CHAPTER VII

The pope said a grand mass for them, and at the gospel he enters the

pulpit, a burly figure of a man with sad eyes.

"The blessing of the Father and the Son and the Holy Ghost be with you

and about you, Amen.

"It is not to you, Nicolo Polo, that I wish to speak, nor to you,

Matthew Polo, for neither of you are my ambassadors to the Great Khan.

Merchant and sportsmen, I honor you, and you have my blessing, but you

have no hopes of mine. The dirty diversions of the world are between

your eyes and glory," said he. "It's only myself, an old and sorrowful

man, and this child, a young and hopeful one, can understand; old men

having sight of visions, and young men dreaming dreams...

"Now in the matter of converting the Great Khan and his numerous

millions, first let wisdom speak. I have little hopes. He wants to be

argued into it, you see. Religion is not a matter of argument. It is a

wisdom that surpasses wisdom. It drifts in men's souls as the foggy

dew comes unbidden to the trees. It is born before our soul, as the

horned moon is born before our eyes.

"And now, my child, you might say, 'What is the use of sending me to

China if he knows I cannot bring these millions into the fold? My dear

son, there is the wisdom surpassing wisdom. A great and noble thought

must not die. Things of the spirit we cannot reckon as a husband-man

reckons his crops. There is a folk on the marches of Europe, and they

are ever going into battle, and they always fall. Their results are

nothing. But their name and their glory will endure forever...

"My dear son, God has put wisdom in my head and beauty into yours.

Wisdom is needed for the governance of this world, but beauty is needed

for its existence. In arid deserts there is no life. Birds do not

sing in the dark of night. Show me a waste country, and I'll show you

a brutal people. No faith can live that is not beautiful...

"The beauty God has put in your heart, child, you must always keep...

How much I think of it I'll tell you. I'm an old man now, an old and

broken man, and in a few years I'll stand before my Master.

"'What have you seen on my earth,' He'll ask me, 'you who followed St.

Peter!'

"'Lord! Lord!' I'll tell Him, 'I've seen mighty things. I've seen the

bridegroom leave his bride and the king his kingdom, the huckster leave

his booth, and the reaper drop his hook, that they might rescue Your

Holy Sepulchre from pagan hands.'

"'And anything else?' He'll ask.

"'And I've seen a young man go out into the desert and over his head

was a star...'

"You may think you have failed, child, but remember that in the coming

times your name and fame will awaken beauty, and many's the traveler on

the hard road will find his courage again, and he thinking of Marco

Polo. And many's the young man will dream dreams, and many's the old

man will see visions, and they reading the book by the golden

candle-light; and many's the young girl will give you love, and you

dead for centuries. But for this you must keep your dream.

"Now you'll think it's the queer pope I am to be telling you things

like this instead of demanding converts. But the wisdom that surpasses

wisdom comes to you with the Annointing of the Oil. 'I knew a man in

Christ above fourteen years ago,' writes Saint Paul, '(whether in the

body I cannot tell, or whether out of the body I cannot tell. God

knoweth.)

"'How that he was caught up into paradise, and heard unspeakable words,

which is not lawful for a man to utter.'

"Now you see there is a wisdom surpassing wisdom, and it is out of this

fount of wisdom I am drawing when I speak to you these words.

"Child, I will not keep you any longer. Only to say this, and this is

the chiefest thing: never let your dream be taken from you. Keep it

unspotted from the world. In darkness and in tribulation it will go

with you as a friend; but in wealth and power hold fast to it, for then

is danger. Let not the mists of the world, the gay diversions, the

little trifles, draw you from glory.

"Remember!

"Si oblitus fuero tui Jerusalem,--If I forget thee, O Jerusalem,--

"Oblivioni detur dextera mea,--let my right hand forget her cunning--

"Adhaereat lingua mea faucibus meis, si non meminero tui,--if I do not

remember thee, let my tongue cleave to the roof of my mouth--

"Si non proposuero Jerusalem, in principis laetitiae meae,--If I prefer

not Jerusalem above my chief joy.

"I shall now send a prayer to Heaven," he said, "to keep you safe in

the strange foreign ways, to protect you against wind and tempest,

against pestilence and sudden death, against the powers of darkness,

and Him who goes up and down the world for the ruin of souls."

And he turned to the high altar again, and now you'd hear his voice

loud and powerful, and now low and secret, and the bell struck, and the

acolyte intoned the responses, and all of a sudden he turned and spread

forth his hands.

"Ite! Let you go now. Missa est."

Messer Marco Polo · 第 7 / 23 章