From that moment, I remember nothing more, until, on recovering from the
state of utter unconsciousness into which I fell with these words, I
found myself in my cell, on my couch, and carefully watched by Cyrillus.
The frightful vision of the unknown stood yet vividly before mine eyes.
Cyrillus, however, laboured to convince me, that this had been but an
illusory phantom of my own brain--heated by the zeal and ardour of my
discourse.
But the more that he exerted himself for this purpose, the more deeply
did I feel shame and repentance at my own behaviour in the pulpit--As to
the audience, they, as I afterwards understood, concluded that a sudden
madness had seized upon me; for which notion, my last exclamation had,
no doubt, afforded them abundant reason.
I was in spirit utterly crushed and annihilated. Shut up like a
prisoner in my cell, I subjected myself to the severest penitential
inflictions; and strengthened myself by zealous prayer for contention
with the adversary, who had appeared to me, even on consecrated ground,
and only in malice and mockery had put on the features and garb of the
miraculous painter of the Lime-Tree.
No one but myself would acknowledge that he had seen the man in the
violet-coloured mantle; and, with his usual kindness, the Prior
Leonardus, very zealously spread a report, that my conduct had arisen
merely from the first attack of a severe nervous fever, by which I had
been so frightfully borne away in my discourse, and confused in my
ideas. Indeed, without any pretence, I was, for a long time, extremely
ill, and this too for several weeks after I had again resumed the
ordinary conventual mode of life.
However, I at last undertook once more to mount the pulpit;--but,
tormented by my own inward agitation, and still haunted by the restless
remembrance of that horrid pale spectre, I was scarcely able to speak
connectedly, much less to give myself up as before to the spontaneous
fire of eloquence. My sermons, on the contrary, were now stiff,
constrained, and laboriously patched up from disjointed fragments. The
audience bewailed the loss of my rhetorical powers,--gradually gave up
their attendance,--and the superannuated brother who had formerly
preached, and who was now much superior to me, again took his place; so
that I was utterly superseded.
* * * * *
After some time lost in this manner, it happened, that a certain young
Count, then on his travels, (under a feigned name,) with his tutor, came
to the monastery, and desired to see whatever we had to boast of that
was rare and curious. I was accordingly obliged to open the reliquary
chamber,--the gleam of a fine sunset shone upon the strange furniture of
this ghastly old room, and the visitors, with an ironical smile on their
features, marched in. To my vexation, I was left with them alone; for
the Prior, who had till now been with us, was called away to attend a
sick person in the town of Koenigswald.
* * * * *
Gradually I had got through all that I intended to shew, and had
minutely described every article, when, by chance, the Count's eye fell
upon the curious old cabinet, adorned with grotesque carvings, in which
was deposited the box with the Devil's Elixir.
Though for some time I dexterously evaded their questions, yet, at last,
the Count and his tutor, joining together, urged me so far, that I could
not avoid telling them, at once, the legends relating to the contents of
this cabinet. In short, I repeated to them the whole story of St Anthony
and the devil, nor (unluckily) did I leave out the warning which brother
Cyrillus had given me, as to the danger of opening the box, or even the
cabinet. Notwithstanding that the Count was of the Catholic religion,
both he and his tutor seemed to have little or no faith in sacred
legends. They both indulged in an exuberance of odd fancies and witty
remarks on this comical devil, who had carried about bottles under his
ragged mantle. At last, the tutor thought proper to assume a serious
demeanour, and spoke as follows:--
"Do not, reverend sir, be offended with the levity of us men of the
world. Be assured, on the contrary, that we both honour the Saints, and
look on them as the most admirable examples of mortals inspired by
religion, who, for the salvation of their souls, and edification of
mankind, sacrificed all the enjoyments of life, and even life itself.
But as to legends and stories such as you have just now related, in my
opinion, these are, though not always, yet in many instances, (of which
this is one,) only ingenious allegories, which, by misconception, are
absurdly supposed to be histories of events that took place in real
life."
With these words, the tutor had suddenly drawn aside the sliding cover
of the box, and taken out the black strangely-formed bottle. Now,
indeed, as brother Cyrillus had remarked to me, there spread itself
abroad a strong odour, which appeared, however, anything rather than
stupifying. It was, in a high degree, agreeable, generous, and
refreshing.
"Hah!" exclaimed the Count, "now would I take any bet, that the Devil's
Elixir is neither more nor less, than excellent old wine of Syracuse!"
"Unquestionably," said the tutor; "and if the bottle really came from
the posthumous property of St Anthony, then, brother, you are more
fortunate than the King of Naples, who, on one occasion, expected to be
able to taste real old Roman wine; but, from the bad custom among the
Romans, of pouring oil into the necks of their bottles instead of using
corks, was debarred that gratification.
"Though this bottle," continued he, "is by no means so old as the
Augustan age, yet, having been St Anthony's, it is certainly by far the
most ancient that we are likely to meet with; and, therefore, reverend
sir, you would, in my opinion, do well to apply the relic to your own
use, and to sip up its contents with good faith and courage."
"Undoubtedly," resumed the Count, "this old Syracusan wine would pour
new strength into your veins, and put to flight that bodily
indisposition under which, reverend sir, you now seem to labour."
Hereupon the tutor pulled a cork-screw from his pocket, and,
notwithstanding all my protestations to the contrary, opened the bottle.
It seemed to me, as if, upon drawing the cork, a blue flame ascended
into the air, which directly afterwards vanished. More powerfully then,
the vaporous odour mounted out of the flask, and spread itself through
the chamber!
The tutor tasted in the first place, and cried out with
rapture--"Admirable, admirable Syracusan! In truth, the wine cellar of
St Anthony was by no means a bad one; and if the devil really was his
butler, then certainly he had no such evil intentions towards the Saint
as people commonly suppose!--Now, my Lord Count, taste the wine!"
The Count did so, and confirmed what the tutor had said. Indeed he took
a long draught, instead of a taste, from the bottle. They renewed their
witticisms and merriment over the relic, which, according to them, was
decidedly the finest in all the collection. They wished heartily, that
they could have a whole cellar of such rarities, etc. etc.
I heard all this in silence, with my head sunk down, and with eyes fixed
on the ground. The _badinage_ of the strangers was to me, in my present
mood of mind, abhorrent and tormenting. In vain did they urge me to
taste the wine of St Anthony! I resolutely refused, and at last was
allowed to shut up the bottle, well corked, into its proper receptacle.
Thus, then, I had _for once_ triumphed and escaped. The strangers,
indeed, would have endeavoured to prove, that this trial of the wine was
but a venial transgression; but even of _venial_ transgressions, I had
at that time a proper abhorrence, knowing that they formed the sure and
ample foundation for mortal sins.
The strangers left the monastery. But, as I sat alone in my cell, I
could not disguise from myself, or deny, that I felt a certain
cheerfulness of mind, and exhilaration of spirit. It was obvious that
the powerful and spirituous odour of the wine had revived me. No trace
or symptom of the bad effects of which Cyrillus had spoken did I
experience. On the contrary, an influence the most opposite became
decidedly manifest.
* * * * *
The more that I now meditated on the legend of St. Anthony, and the more
livelily that I called to mind the words of the tutor, the more certain
did it appear to me, that the explanations of the latter were correct
and well-founded. Then, first, with the rapidity and vehemence of
lightning, the thought rushed through me, that on that unhappy day, when
the horrible vision broke the thread of my discourse, I too had been on
the point of interpreting the legend of St Anthony in the same manner as
an ingenious allegory. With this thought another soon was united, which
filled my mind so completely, that every other consideration almost
faded away.
"How," said I to myself, "if this extraordinary and odoriferous drink
actually possessed the secret efficacy of restoring thy strength, and
rekindling that intellectual fire which has been so frightfully
extinguished? What, if already some mysterious relationship of thy
spirit, with the mystical powers contained in that bottle, has been
plainly indicated, and even proved, if it were no more than by
this,--that the very same odour which stunned and distracted the weakly
Cyrillus, has, on thee, only produced the most beneficial effects?"
* * * * *
When already I had at various times even resolved to follow the counsel
of the strangers, and was in the act of walking through the church
towards the reliquary room, I perceived an inward, and, to myself,
inexplicable resistance, which held me back. Nay, once, when on the very
point of unlocking the cabinet, it seemed to me as if I beheld in the
powerful _alto relievo_ of the antique carvings on the pannel, the
horrible countenance of the painter, with his fixed glaring eyes, of
which the intolerable expression still penetrated through my heart, and
vehemently seized by a supernatural horror, I fled from the room, in
order to prostrate myself at one of the altars in the church, and repent
of my temerity!
But, notwithstanding all my endeavours, the same thought continued to
persecute me, that only by participation in that miraculous wine could
my now sunk spirit be refreshed and restored. The behaviour of the Prior
and the monks, who treated me with the most mortifying, however well
intended, kindness, as a person disordered in intellect, brought me to
absolute despair; and as Leonardus granted me a dispensation from the
usual devotional exercises, in order that I might completely recover my
strength, I had more time for reflection. In the course of one long
sleepless night, persecuted and tortured by my inward sense of
degradation, I resolved that I would venture all things, even to death,
and the eternal destruction of my soul, in order to regain the station
that I had lost. I was, in short, determined to obtain my former powers
of mind, or to perish in the attempt.