Agnes of Sorrento

  CHAPTER XV

  THE SERPENT'S EXPERIMENT

  Father Francesco sat leaning his head on his hand by the window ofhis cell, looking out upon the sea as it rose and fell, with thereflections of the fast coming stars glittering like so many jewelson its breast. The glow of evening had almost faded, but there was awan, tremulous light from the moon, and a clearness produced by thereflection of such an expanse of water, which still rendered objects inhis cell quite discernible.

  In the terrible denunciations and warnings just uttered, he had beenpreaching to himself, striving to bring a force on his own soul bywhich he might reduce its interior rebellion to submission; but, alas!when was ever love cast out by fear? He knew not as yet the only remedyfor such sorrow,--that there is a love celestial and divine, of whichearthly love in its purest form is only the sacramental symbol andemblem, and that this divine love can by God's power so outflood humanaffections as to bear the soul above all earthly idols to its onlyimmortal rest. This great truth rises like a rock amid stormy seas,and many is the sailor struggling in salt and bitter waters who cannotyet believe it is to be found. A few saints like Saint Augustine hadreached it,--but through what buffetings, what anguish!

  At this moment, however, there was in the heart of the father one ofthose collapses which follow the crisis of some mortal struggle. Heleaned on the window-sill, exhausted and helpless.

  Suddenly, a kind of illusion of the senses came over him, such as isnot infrequent to sensitive natures in severe crises of mental anguish.He thought he heard Agnes singing, as he had sometimes heard her whenhe had called in his pastoral ministrations at the little garden andpaused awhile outside that he might hear her finish a favorite hymn,which, like a shy bird, she sung all the more sweetly for thinkingherself alone.

  Quite as if they were sung in his ear, and in her very tones, he heardthe words of Saint Bernard, which we have already introduced to ourreader:--

  "Jesu dulcis memoria, Dans vera cordi gaudia: Sed super mel et omnia Ejus dulcis praesentia.

  "Jesu, spes poenitentibus, Quam pius es petentibus, Quam bonus te quaerentibus, Sed quis invenientibus!"

  Soft and sweet and solemn was the illusion, as if some spirit breathedthem with a breath of tenderness over his soul; and he threw himselfwith a burst of tears before the crucifix.

  "O Jesus, where, then, art Thou? Why must I thus suffer? She is not theone altogether lovely; it is Thou,--Thou, her Creator and mine. Why,why cannot I find Thee? Oh, take from my heart all other love but Thinealone!"

  Yet even this very prayer, this very hymn, were blent with theremembrance of Agnes; for was it not she who first had taught him thelesson of heavenly love? Was not she the first one who had taught himto look upward to Jesus other than as an avenging judge? Michel Angelohas embodied in a fearful painting, which now deforms the SistineChapel, that image of stormy vengeance which a religion debased byforce and fear had substituted for the tender, good shepherd ofearlier Christianity. It was only in the heart of a lowly maiden thatChrist had been made manifest to the eye of the monk, as of old he wasrevealed to the world through a virgin. And how could he, then, forgether, or cease to love her, when every prayer and hymn, every sacredround of the ladder by which he must climb, was so full of memorialsof her? While crying and panting for the supreme, the divine, theinvisible love, he found his heart still craving the visible one,--theone so well known, revealing itself to the senses, and bringing with itthe certainty of visible companionship.

  As he was thus kneeling and wrestling with himself, a sudden knockat his door startled him. He had made it a point, never, at any hourof the day or night, to deny himself to a brother who sought him forcounsel, however disagreeable the person and however unreasonable thevisit. He therefore rose and unbolted the door, and saw Father Johannesstanding with folded arms and downcast head, in an attitude of composedhumility.

  "What would you with me, brother?" he asked, calmly.

  "My father, I have a wrestling of mind for one of our brethren whosecase I would present to you."

  "Come in, my brother," said the Superior. At the same time he lighteda little iron lamp, of antique form, such as are still in common usein that region, and seating himself on the board which served for hiscouch, made a motion to Father Johannes to be seated also.

  The latter sat down, eyeing, as he did so, the whole interior of theapartment, so far as it was revealed by the glimmer of the taper.

  "Well, my son," said Father Francesco, "what is it?"

  "I have my doubts of the spiritual safety of Brother Bernard," saidFather Johannes.

  "Wherefore?" asked the Superior, briefly.

  "Holy father, you are aware of the history of the brother, and of theworldly affliction that drove him to this blessed profession?"

  "I am," replied the Superior, with the same brevity.

  "He narrated it to me fully," said Father Johannes. "The maiden he wasbetrothed to was married to another in his absence on a long journey,being craftily made to suppose him dead."

  "I tell you I know the circumstances," said the Superior.

  "I merely recalled them, because, moved doubtless by your sermon, hedropped words to me to-night which led me to suppose that this sinful,earthly love was not yet extirpated from his soul. Of late the womanwas sick and nigh unto death, and sent for him."

  "But he did not go?" interposed Father Francesco.

  "No, he did not,--grace was given him thus far; but he dropped wordsto me to the effect, that in secret he still cherished the love ofthis woman; and the awful words your Reverence has been speaking to usto-night have moved me with fear for the youth's soul, of the which I,as an elder brother, have had some charge, and I came to consult withyou as to what help there might be for him."

  Father Francesco turned away his head a moment and there was a pause;at last he said, in a tone that seemed like the throb of some deep,interior anguish,--

  "The Lord help him!"

  "Amen!" said Father Johannes, taking keen note of the apparent emotion.

  "You must have experience in these matters, my father," he added, aftera pause,--"so many hearts have been laid open to you. I would crave toknow of you what you think is the safest and most certain cure for thislove of woman, if once it hath got possession of the heart."

  "_Death!_" said Father Francesco, after a solemn pause.

  "I do not understand you," said Father Johannes.

  "My son," said Father Francesco, rising up with an air of authority,"you do _not_ understand,--there is nothing in you by which you shouldunderstand. This unhappy brother hath opened his case to me, and Ihave counseled him all I know of prayer and fastings and watchings andmortifications. Let him persevere in the same; and if all these fail,the good Lord will send the other in His own time. There is an end toall things in this life, and that end shall certainly come at last. Bidhim persevere and hope in this. And now, brother," added the Superior,with dignity, "if you have no other query, time flies and eternitycomes on,--go, watch and pray, and leave me to my prayers, also."

  He raised his hand with a gesture of benediction, and Father Johannes,awed in spite of himself, felt impelled to leave the apartment.

  "Is it so, or is it not?" he said. "I cannot tell. He did seem to winceand turn away his head when I proposed the case; but then he made fightat last. I cannot tell whether I have got any advantage or not; butpatience! we shall see!"