They recall the life of a dead man, and are, despite their bright colours, the shadows of a shadow.The life of a dead man! O vanity!""He is dead, but he lived," replied the voice; "and thou wilt die, and wilt not have lived."From that day, Paphnutius had not a moment's rest.The voice spoke to him incessantly.The girl with the theorbo looked fixedly at him from underneath the long lashes of her eye.At last she also spoke--"Look.I am mysterious and beautiful.Love me.Exhaust in my arms the love which torments you.What use is it to fear me? You cannot escape me; I am the beauty of woman.Whither do you think to fly from me, senseless fool? You will find my likeness in the radiancy of flowers, and in the grace of the palm trees, in the flight of pigeons, in the bounds of the gazelle, in the rippling of brooks, in the soft light of the moon, and if you close your eyes, you will find me within yourself.It is a thousand years since the man who sleeps here, swathed in linen, in a bed of black stone, pressed me to his heart.It is a thousand years since he received the last kiss from my mouth, and his sleep is yet redolent with it.You know me well, Paphnutius.How is it you have not recognised me? I am one of the innumerable incarnations of Thais.You are a learned monk, and well skilled in the knowledge of things.You have travelled, and it is by travel a man learns the most.Often a day passed abroad will show more novelties than ten years passed at home.You have heard that Thais lived formerly in Argos, under the name of Helen.She had another existence in Thebes Hecatompyle.And I was Thais of Thebes.How is it you have not guessed it? I took, when I was alive, a large share in the sins of this world, and now reduced here to the condition of a shadow, I am still quite capable of taking your sins upon me, beloved monk.Whence comes your surprise? It was certain that, wherever you went, you would find Thais again."He struck his forehead against the pavement, and uttered a cry of terror.And every night the player of the theorbo left the wall, approached him, and spoke in a clear voice mingled with soft breathing.And as the holy man resisted the temptations she gave him, she said to him--"Love me; yield, friend.As long as you resist me I shall torment you.
You do not know what the patience of a dead woman is.I shall wait, if necessary, till you are dead.Being a sorceress, I shall put into your lifeless body a spirit who will reanimate it, and who will not refuse me what I have asked in vain of you.And think, Paphnutius, what a strange situation when your blessed soul sees, from the height of heaven, its own body given up to sin.God, who has promised to return you this body after the day of judgment and the end of time, will Himself be much puzzled.How can He place in celestial glory a human form inhabited by a devil, and guarded by a sorceress? You have not thought of that difficulty.Nor God either, perhaps.Between ourselves, He is not very knowing.Any ordinary magician can easily deceive Him, and if He had not His thunder, and the cataracts of heaven, the village urchins would pull His beard.He has certainly not as much sense as the old serpent, His adversary.He, indeed, is a wonderful artist.If I am so beautiful, it is because he adorned me with all my attractions.It was he who taught me how to braid my hair, and to make for myself rosy fingers with agate nails.You have misunderstood him.When you came to live in this tomb, you drove out with your feet the serpents which were here, without troubling yourself to know whether they were of his family, and you crushed their eggs.I am afraid, my poor friend, you will have a troublesome business on your hands.You were warned, however, that he was a musician and a lover.What have you done? You have quarrelled with science and beauty.You are altogether miserable, and Iaveh does not come to your help.It is not probable that he will come.Being as great as all things, he cannot move for want of space, and if, by an impossibility, he made the least movement, all creation would be pushed out of place.My handsome hermit, give me a kiss."Paphnutius was aware that great prodigies are performed by magic arts.
He thought--not without much uneasiness--"Perhaps the dead man buried at my feet knows the words written in that mysterious book which exists hidden, not far from here, at the bottom of a royal tomb.By virtue of these words, the dead, taking the form which they had upon earth, see the light of the sun and the smiles of women."His chief fear was that the girl with the theorbo and the dead man might come together, as they did in their lifetime, and that he should see them unite.Sometimes he thought he heard the sound of kissing.
He was troubled in his mind, and now, in the absence of God he feared to think as much as to feel.One evening, when he was kneeling prostrate according to his custom, an unknown voice said to him--"Paphnutius, there are on earth more people than you imagine, and if Iwere to show you what I have seen, you would die of astonishment.
