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Updated: June 22, 2025
In proportion to any man's reputation for orthodoxy and sanctity, Philammon's judgment of him was stern and pitiless.
In wit, Athene; Hera in majesty; in beauty, Aphrodite! 'And who are they? asked Philammon. The porter stopped, surveyed him slowly from foot to head with an expression of boundless pity and contempt, and was in the act of walking off in the ecstasy of his disdain, when he was brought to suddenly by Philammon's strong arm. 'Ah! I recollect. There is a compact.... Who is Athene?
'Haven't you heard what the monk says?-we can never get ever those cataracts. 'We'll stop his old wives' tales for him, and then settle for ourselves, said Smid; and springing from the thwart where he had been sitting, he caught up a bill with one hand, and seized Philammon's throat with the other.... in a moment more, it would have been all over with him....
Now go; you have been favoured beyond your deserts, and should learn that the philosopher can practise what the Christian only preaches, and return good for evil. And he put into Philammon's hand a slip of paper, and bid one of the secretaries show him to the outer door.
But from that man, and coming unexpectedly as the finishing stroke to all his disappointment and disgust, it was intolerable; and in an instant Peter's long legs were sprawling on the pavement, while he bellowed like a bull for all the monks in Nitria. A dozen lean brown hands were at Philammon's throat as Peter rose. 'Seize him! hold him! half blubbered he. 'The traitor! the heretic!
Her lips were opened to speak; but the words that should have come from them reached God's ear alone; for in an instant Peter struck her down, the dark mass closed over her again ... and then wail on wail, long, wild, ear-piercing, rang along the vaulted roofs and thrilled like the trumpet of avenging angels through Philammon's ears.
Years might pass before Philammon's education was matured, and with them golden opportunities which might never recur again. 'Ah! she sighed at times, 'that Julian had lived a generation later! That I could have brought all my hard-earned treasures to the feet of the Poet of the Sun, and cried, "Take me! Hero, warrior, statesman, sage, priest of the God of Light! Take thy slave!
On that point, indeed, he obtained nothing but fresh invective; but when his companions, after talking of the triumph which the true faith had gained that morning, went on to speak of the great overthrow of Paganism twenty years before, under the patriarch Theophilus; of Olympiodorus and his mob, who held the Serapeium for many days by force of arms against the Christians, making sallies into the city, and torturing and murdering the prisoners whom they took; of the martyrs who, among those very pillars which overhung their heads, had died in torments rather than sacrifice to Serapis; and of the final victory, and the soldier who, in presence of the trembling mob, clove the great jaw of the colossal idol, and snapped for ever the spell of heathenism, Philammon's heart burned to distinguish himself like that soldier, and to wipe out his qualms of conscience by some more unquestionable deed of Christian prowess.
The Scriptures cannot lie! cried a voice from the farther end of the room. It was Philammon's. He had been listening to the whole lecture; and yet not so much listening as watching, in bewilderment, the beauty of the speaker, the grace of her action, the melody of her voice, and last, but not least, the maze of her rhetoric, as it glittered before his mind's eye like a cobweb diamonded with dew.
All was activity and excitement; and it was no wonder if Philammon's curiosity had tempted him to drift down almost abreast of the barge ere he descried, peeping from under a decorated awning in the afterpart, some dozen pairs of languishing black eyes, turned alternately to the game and to himself.
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