Nicias ran up to him, covered him with his cloak, and dragged him and Thais into by-streets where they were safe from pursuit.They ran for some time in silence, and when they thought they were out of reach of their enemies, they ceased running, and Nicias said, in a tone of raillery in which a little sadness was mingled--"It is finished then! Pluto ravishes Proserpine, and Thais will follow my fierce-looking friend whithersoever he will lead her.""It is true, Nicias," replied Thais, "that I am tired of living with men like you, smiling, perfumed, kindly egoists.I am weary of all Iknow, and I am, therefore, going to seek the unknown.I have experienced joy that was not joy, and here is a man who teaches me that sorrow is true joy.I believe him, for he knows the truth.""And I, sweetheart," replied Nicias, smiling, "I know the truths.He knows but one, I know them all.I am superior to him in that respect, but to tell the truth, it doesn't make me any the prouder nor any the happier."Then, seeing that the monk was glaring fiercely at him--"My dear Paphnutius, do not imagine that I think you extremely absurd, or even altogether unreasonable.And if I were to compare your life with mine, I could not say which is preferable in itself.I shall presently go and take the bath which Crobyle and Myrtale have prepared for me; I shall eat the wing of a Phasian pheasant; then I shall read --for the hundredth time--some fable by Apuleius or some treatise by Porphyry.You will return to your cell, where, leaning like a tame camel, you will ruminate on--I know not what--formulas of incarnations you have long chewed and rechewed, and in the evening you will swallow some radishes without any oil.Well, my dear friend, in accomplishing these acts, so different apparently, we are both obeying the same sentiment, the only motive for all human actions; we are both seeking our own pleasure, and striving to attain the same end--happiness, the impossible happiness.It would be folly on my part to say you were wrong, dear friend, even though I think myself in the right.
"And you, my Thais, go and enjoy yourself, and be more happy still, if it be possible, in abstinence and austerity than you have been in riches and pleasure.On the whole, I should say you were to be envied.
For if in our whole lives, Paphnutius and I have pursued but one kind of pleasurable satisfaction, you in your life, dear Thais, have tasted diverse joys such as it is rarely given to the same person to know.Ishould really like to be for one hour, a saint like our dear friend Paphnutius.But that is not possible.Farewell, then, Thais! Go where the secret forces of nature and your destiny conduct you! Go, and take with you, whithersoever you go, the good wishes of Nicias! I know that is mere foolishness, but can I give you anything more than barren regrets and vain wishes in payment for the delicious illusions which once enveloped me when I was in your arms, and of which only the shadow now remains to me? Farewell, my benefactress! Farewell, goodness that is ignorant of its own existence, mysterious virtue, joy of men! Farewell to the most adorable of the images that nature has ever thrown--for some unknown reasons--on the face of this deceptive world!"Whilst he spoke, deep wrath had been brewing in the monk's heart, and it now broke forth in imprecations.
"Avaunt, cursed wretch! I scorn thee and hate thee.Go, child of hell, a thousand times worse than those poor lost ones who just now threw stones and insults at me! They knew not what they did, and the grace of God, which I implored for them, may some day descend into their hearts.But thou, detestable Nicias, thou art but a perfidious venom and a bitter poison.Thy mouth breathes despair and death.One of thy smiles contains more blasphemy than issues in a century from the smoking lips of Satan.Avaunt, backslider!"Nicias looked at him.
"Farewell, my brother," he said, "and may you preserve until your life's end your store of faith, hate, and love.Farewell, Thais! It is in vain that you will forget me, because I shall ever remember you."On quitting them he walked thoughtfully through the winding streets in the vicinity of the great cemetery of Alexandria, which are peopled by the makers of funeral urns.Their shops were full of clay figures painted in bright colours and representing gods and goddesses, mimes, women, winged sprites, &c., such as were usually buried with the dead.
He fancied that perhaps some of the little images which he saw there might be the companions of his eternal sleep; and it seemed to him that a little Eros, with its tunic tucked up, laughed at him mockingly.He looked forward to his death, and the idea was painful to him.To cure his sadness he tried to philosophise, and reasoned thus--"Assuredly," he said to himself, "time has no reality.It is a ****** illusion of our minds.Then, if it does not exist, how can it bring death to me? Does that mean that I shall live for ever? No, but Iconclude therefrom that my death is, always has been, as it always will be.I do not feel it yet, but it is in me, and I ought not to fear it, for it would be folly to dread the coming of that which has arrived.It exists, like the last page of a book I read and have not finished."This argument occupied him all the rest of the way, but without ****** him more cheerful; and his mind was filled with dismal thoughts when he arrived at the door of his house and heard the merry laughter of Crobyle and Myrtale, who were playing at tennis whilst they were waiting for him.
Paphnutius and Thais left the city by the Gate of the Moon, and followed the coast.
"Woman," said the monk, "all that great blue sea could not wash away thy pollutions."He spoke with scorn and anger.
