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There is, so to speak, a lively and refreshing time between the youths of both sexes, while the band plays its utmost, and Evangel, Kyrie, and Credo are recited to the music of Trovatore and Traviata.
I came in while the Kyrie was going on, played the last part, and when the priest intoned the Gloria I made a cadence, so different, however, from what is usually heard here, that every one looked round in surprise, and above all Holzbauer. He said to me, "If I had known you were coming, I would have put out another mass for you." "Oh!" said I, "to puzzle me, I suppose?"
He flung the casket upon the table and spread its fateful contents again before him. His hand flew over the papyrus with marvellous speed and skill. He knew that all his faculties were at his full command and unwontedly acute. Bias was surprised at his sport by a sudden clapping of his master’s hands. “What is it, kyrie?” “Go to Agis. He keeps the gaming-house in the Ceramicus. You know where.
Christe eleison! brother dear Our liberator from all ill Strong in Thy virtue, free from fear, And be our help to virtue still. Christe eleison! God and man Our only consolation here Oh! do not leave us 'neath the ban Of sorrow perilous and drear. Oh! Kyrie, Father Kyrie Son Kyrie Spirit we adore The Triune God Thee, only One! Grant we may praise Thee evermore!
Isidore writes that they come from Greek liturgy and the opening words Kyrie eleison seem to indicate remnants of an old litany. Formerly they were read oftener during the liturgical year than we now are called on to repeat them. They are sometimes referred to as the preces flebiles, tearful prayers, because they are said in times of penance, and are formed to excite tears.
A burst of music answered her, . . music that rushed wind-like downwards and swept in strong vibrating chords over the land, again the "KYRIE ELEISON! CHRISTE ELEISON! KYRIE ELEISON!" pealed forth in the same full youthful-toned chorus that had before sounded so mysteriously outside Elzear's hermitage and the separate crimson rays glittering aurora-wise about her radiant figure, suddenly melted all together in the form of a great cross, which, absorbing moon and stars in its fiery redness, blazed from end to end of the eastern horizon!
In the dim flicker he could just recognize the burly shipmaster Hasdrubal and gigantic Hib, the Libyan “governor,” whose ebon face betrayed itself even there. “We have expected you, kyrie,” said Hiram, who was one of the group. “Thanks be to Hermes and to you all. I have told my guide already I will be grateful. Where is he?” “In the kitchen behind, your Lordship. We were singularly favoured.
“ ‘He?’ Whom do you mean?” “It’s not overeasy to tell, kyrie. He calls himself Critias, and wears a long black beard and tangled hair. Phormio brought him home one evening—said he was the prōreus of a Melian trireme caulking at Epidaurus, but was once in the fish trade at Peiræus and an old friend. I told Phormio we had enough these days to fill our own bellies, but my husband would be hospitable.
Those who had been able to do so, had knelt upon the seats, whilst the others joined their hands, or repeatedly made the sign of the cross; and when the murmured prayers were followed by the Litanies of the ritual, every voice rose, an ardent desire for the remission of the man's sins and for his physical and spiritual cure winging its flight heavenward with each successive Kyrie eleison.
So for several nights, coming late, going early. Then to-night he comes a bit before his wont. He and Phormio drank more than common. After Phormio sent me away, they talked a long time and in louder voice.” “You overheard?” Democrates gripped his arm-chair. “Yes, kyrie, blessed be Athena! The stranger spoke pure Attic such as your Excellency might use.
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