Charles Kingsley

“ She was to follow her destiny, and be base, miserable, self-condemned. She was to crush the voice of conscience and reason, as often as it awoke within her, and compel herself to believe that she was bound to be that which she knew herself bound not to be. She was to shut her eyes to that present palpable misery which was preaching to her, with the voice of God Himself, that the wages of sin are death. ”

“ Philammon was about to lift her up, when Miriam caught him by the arm, and in a hurried whisper—'Are you mad? Will you ruin your own purpose? Why did you tell her this? Why did you not wait—give her hope—time to collect herself—time to wean herself from her lover, instead of terrifying and disgusting her at the outset, as you have done? Have you a man's heart in you? No word of comfort for that poor creature, nothing but hell, hell, hell—See to your own chance of hell first! ”

“ And Wulf bade him be strong, and blest him for it.'
'He was right,' sobbed Philammon.
'Then I thought he would love me for obeying him, though I loathed it!—Oh, God, how I loathed it! . . . . But how could I fancy that he did not like my doing it? Who ever heard of any one doing of their own will what they did not like?'
Philammon sobbed again, as the poor civilized savage artlessly opened to him all her moral darkness. What could he say? . . . . he knew what to say. The disease was so utterly patent, that any of Cyril's school-children could have supplied the remedy. ”

“ The door opened, and in walked, neither monks nor guard, but Wulf and Smid.
'Heyday, young monk!' cried the latter worthy, with a loud laugh— 'Veils here, too, eh? At your old trade, my worthy portress of hell-gate? Well, walk out now; we have a little business with this young gentleman.'
And slipping past the unsuspecting Goths, Pelagia and Miriam hurried downstairs.
'The young one, at least, seems a little ashamed of her errand . . . . Now, Wulf, speak low; and I will see that no one is listening at the door.'
Philammon faced his unexpected visitors with a look of angry inquiry. ”

“ She does but follow her nature; who can be angry with her, if destiny have informed so fair an animal with a too gross and earthly spirit? Why weep over her? Dust she is, and unto dust she will return: while you, to whom a more divine spark was allotted at your birth, must rise, and unrepining, leave below you one only connected with you by the unreal and fleeting bonds of fleshly kin.'
Philammon crushed the letter together in his hand, and strode from the house without a word. The philosopher had no gospel, then, for the harlot! No word for the sinner, the degraded! Destiny forsooth! ”

“ Oh, men, men! all alike! They love us for their own sakes, and we love them for love's sake. We live by love, we die for love, and yet we never find it, but only selfishness dressed up in love's mask . ”

“ At last the Goths appeared, forcing their way through the mob in a close column. There were no litters with them. Where, then, were Pelagia and her girls? Where, too, was the hated figure of the Amal? and Wulf, and Smid? The men came on, led by Goderic and Agilmund, with folded arms, knitted brows, downcast eyes: a stern
disgust, not unmingled with shame, on every countenance, told Philammon afresh of his sister's infamy.
Goderic passed him close, and Philammon summoned up courage to ask for Wulf . . . . Pelagia he had not courage to name. ”

“ For this I puffed myself up in the vain hope of becoming not as other men are—superior, forsooth, to my kind! It was not enough for me to be a man made in the image of God: but I must needs become a god myself, knowing good and evil.—And here is the end! I call upon my fine philosophy to help me once, in one real practical human struggle, and it folds its arms and sits serene and silent, smiling upon my misery! Oh! fool, fool, thou art filled with the fruit of thy own devices! ”

“ When I and the girls began to practise, all the old feelings came back—the love of being admired, and applauded, and cheered; and dancing is so delicious!— so delicious to feel that you are doing anything beautiful perfectly, and better than every one else! ”

“ Philammon hesitated one moment.
'What I dare you know already. But it would be an unlawful thing, surely, to use violence.'
'Settle your philosopher's doubts for yourself. I have made my offer. I should have thought that a man in his senses could give but one answer, much more a mad monk.'
'You forget the money matters, prince,' said Smid, with a smile. ”

“ He must love me for myself, because I am worth loving, because he honours, worships me, or let me die. I, whose boast was, even when I was basest, that I never needed such mean tricks, but conquered like Aphrodite, a queen in my own right! I have been my own love- charm: when I cease to be that, let me die!'
'One as mad as the other!' cried Miriam, in utter perplexity. 'Hist! what is that tramp upon the stairs?'
At this moment heavy footsteps were heard ascending the stairs . . . . All three stopped aghast: Philammon, because he thought the visitors were monks in search of him ”

“ She fled forth into the desert, and there, naked and barefoot, clothed only with her hair, and feeding on the herb of the field, she stayed fasting and praying till her dying day, never seeing the face of man, but visited and comforted by angels and archangels. ”

“ Therefore mind; if you do not bring a good guard to-morrow night, your life will not be safe. The whole city is out in the streets; and Odin alone knows what will be done, and who will be alive, eight-and- forty hours hence. Mind you!—The mob may do strange things, and they may see still stranger things done. ”

“ And we can hold the house a week.'
'But how can we get speech of the guards?'
'We will slip round by water. And, after all, deeds will win them better than talk. They will be forced to fight on the same side as we, and most probably be glad of our help; for if the mob attacks any one, it will begin with the Prefect.'
'And then—Curse their shouting! Let the soldiers once find our Amal at their head, and they will be ready to go with him a mile, where they meant to go a yard.'
'The Goths will, and the Markmen, and those Dacians, and Thracians, or whatever the Romans call them. ”

“ Get me out a boat and half a dozen men, and I and Goderic will go round by the canal to the palace, and settle a thing or two with the guards.'
'Why should not the Amal go, and offer our help himself to the Prefect?'
'What? Would you have him after that turn against the hound? For troth and honour's sake, he must keep quiet in the matter.'
'He will have no objection to keep quiet—trust him for that! But don't forget Sagaman Moneybag, the best of all orators,' called Smid laughingly after him, as he went off to man the boat. ”