— But this isn't. . you can't go now?
Gwyon looked him full in the face for the first time. — Spain is a land to flee across, he said, motionless, forcing the other face to lower in chagrin at the sight of his own undetermined features, as loss spread from his eyes out to the edges of his face, the emptiness in the eyepiece of a telescope where a point of light expands into a field of space and a worldless universe.
— She. . They ejaculated at the same instant.
— She came to me there, Gwyon went on with somniloquent evenness, — in this monastery. I was almost asleep, and I felt her hand. I got up, I got to the window as fast as I could, and there, the moon had sent a stream of light in, across the room, right across the room to me. There it was in the sky. The moon. . warm, like the moon. .
— Yes but you can't. . I'm not a child any more! and you can't. . you used to tell me the Thessalonian witches tried to draw it down. . Gwyon watched him vacantly as he turned away, abrupt movements round the far end of the table as though evading the image, or a mock image of the figure Gwyon had conjured. — And if it's she standing over us…?
— "The moon is always in motion," says Arnobius.
— To hell with Arnobius.
— "According to your representation she is a woman, with a countenance that does not alter, though her daily variation carries her through a thousand forms," Gwyon finished, and his querulous voice failed.
— That. . that, never mind all that! The words were harsh and uneven as he shook his head, shaking away the paraselene. — I came for you! he cried out at Gwyon.
— Yes. .? Gwyon whispered, his hands finding one another before him on the table, as his features reformed and his eyes recovered their glitter.
— If I've come for the priesthood, and you. .
— Yes, you. . You brought the bull, the gold bull, Reverend Gwyon said leaning forward.
— The what? Yes, that, but listen. .
— And you've come for the priesthood, Gwyon went on tensely.
— Yes I've come back, I've come to you, because you can tell me. . what I must know. He lowered his eyes, then raised them gleaming before Gwyon could interrupt again. — Though why you, better than someone else, because I… then I'll be a minister, I'll know what I'm doing. . I'll out-preach Saint Bernard. Mothers will hide their sons, wives will hide their husbands for fear my preaching will tempt them away. Yes, he broke up so many homes the deserted wives formed a nunnery. I'll form seventy-two nunneries. Yes, "And the brother shall deliver up the brother unto death, and the father the child: and the children shall rise up against their parents, and cause them to be put to death. ." Why, I'll go to Laodicea, and I… I'll be God's Fool Himself, he finished, swinging round to the windows again so abruptly that his hand cracked against the frame. He clutched it quickly in the other, then threw it out again. — Look! Look, the wren, do you see? he cried out.
A wren fluttered to an evergreen outside, its weight not enough to dislodge the snow on the spray where it landed.
— I'll go out like the early Christian missionaries did at Christmas, to hunt down the wren and kill him, yes, when the wren was king, do you remember, you told me. . When the wren was king, he repeated, getting breath again, — at Christmas.
The wren had flown, as he turned from the window and approached with burning green eyes fixed on Gwyon. — King, yes, he repeated, — when the king was slain and eaten, there's sacrament. There's sacrament. Then at the side of the table he paused and lowered his head, a closed wrist couched in the back of his neck, mumbling, — Homo. . homoi. . what I mean is, Did He really suffer? And. . no, that's not it, I mean. . He stopped; and clinging to the edge, sank into his chair.
Reverend Gwyon sat high at the helm, steadying, hands stretched forth to the edge of the sail of wrapping paper, looking down at him as though he were trying to clamber aboard. Then, — Are you prepared? Gwyon brought out, his eyes gleaming with the challenge.
— Prepared?
— The priesthood. The trials before you, for the priesthood.
— Trials?
— There must be priests, strong and passionless, able to renounce the things of this world. . Gwyon reached out and took his wrist, as though to pull him aboard. — To preach Him Who offers rest from sin, and hope beyond the grave. Born of the Rock, He comes forth to offer Remission of sins, and Everlasting Life.
— Yes…
— Priests to administer Baptism, the Oath, and the Sign on the Brow, and the Communion of Bread and Cup. To preach Redemption, Sacramentary Grace, and Salvation, through the Lord of Hosts, the God of Truth who rewards for acts of piety. .
— Yes, yes. . Gwyon's grip was tight as a closed vise on his wrist. It became tighter.
— To be his priest, are you prepared? Gwyon repeated. — To be inured to hardship? strengthened against temptation? and your body rendered passionless?
— But I… yes, good God, there's no passion left in me now.
— To renounce the things of this world?
— There's nothing here I want. . Nothing.
— And when the crown is offered you. . Gwyon came on, straining with intensity.
— Yes, the third temptation, "All these things will I give thee. ." No, I'm through with that. He twisted in Gwyon's grip. — He offered me all that, and he's behind me. He gave me all that, and he's behind me. Just being here I've renounced him, just coming here, I've renounced all he gave me. He paused, and when Gwyon did not speak but continued to grip his wrist and fix all his attention, as he had before, with his eye, went on, — Do you think he didn't take me up on a high mountain, and show me all the kingdoms of the world? and the glory of them? and offer them to me? and give them to me? And here. . now… if this is not Renunciation. .
— Could you face fifty days of fasting? Gwyon demanded suddenly.
— Why. . why yes, if…
— Could you stand two days exposed to extreme heat?
— But…
— And twenty days in the snow?
— But I…
— There are twelve trials of fortitude, Gwyon went on in a voice of intense confidence, — you must face heat and cold, hunger, thirst, and the terrors of drowning, before you take the sacramentum and be sealed on the forehead as his priest.
— But all this. .
— You cannot be his priest without passing through all the disciplines, Gwyon said, relaxing his grip a little, speaking with an admonishing tone. — You must give proof of self-control and chastity, as Nonnus says in his In Sancta Lumina. To be rendered strong and passionless, in order to convert the army first, Gwyon went on, looking toward the window, his voice sinking to a reflective note.
— But Father. . Father. .
— Yes, Gwyon said closing his grip again, bringing his eyes back to the eyes which stared at him. — I have passed through all the grades, of course, to be the Pater Patrum. And then, he went on intent again, — after your death. .
— My death?. .
— After the cruciati you must die, of course, after the torments, when you have passed through all the disciplines, when you have attained Cryphius, and Miles, and Leo, and Perses, and Helío-dromus. .
— Die?…
— How else may the soul be relieved of the dread necessity of its lower nature? Gwyon demanded bending toward him.
— Father!. .
— Yes, at my hands, Gwyon said looking at him steadily, — you must die at the hands of the Pater Patratus, like all initiates.