THE FEAST.
The next day, they reached Madocsany, and the second day after, the
feast began. They had hardly time to get rested. In truth, the feast
began. The beautiful Lady of Madocsany did not close her gates, as she
had said she should do, on the way home: she did not try to find any
thick veil for her head to cover her face before the eyes of the world.
The one expression, "On my word as a knight", had kindled a new glow in
her heart. What was the world to her now! Whoever did not respect her,
she did not respect. Contempt for contempt. The people of the castle did
not go abroad, but they broached their casks, spread their tables, and
summoned the pipers; and where there are spread tables, good wine, and
fair women, there are guests in plenty. It is true, it was a mere revel.
Not one personage of note. Perhaps the same drunken set that frequented
the Mitosin Castle when there were feasts there; if so, no one could
afford to reproach his neighbor. At Mitosin they criticised the Lady of
Madocsany, and at Madocsany the Lord of Mitosin. They flattered both,
and drank to the health of the one who owned the wine; and Father Peter
tarried with them in the interval. He no longer spent his nights in
singing psalms, but listened to the reckless conversation of this motley
crowd. No one counted it against him that he had been driven from the
Castle at Bittse; here it is no disgrace, quite the contrary, to be the
beloved of a beautiful woman, the more glorious because it was unlawful;
they clapped him familiarly on the shoulder, and admitted him as their
companion. And he had to accept this quietly, and realize that there was
something still more disgraceful than to be despised by men of position,
and that was to be honored by the worthless. So he spent every evening
with them; every evening, the side of the castle toward the Waag was
lighted up, so that the household at Mitosin could see what a great
feast it was. In their sledging parties on the frozen Waag, with sound
of bells and bright torches, music, and crack of whip, they passed so
near Mitosin Castle that their voices floated up to the windows of Lord
Grazian Likovay. What sport! Father Peter took his part. "A lucky dog!
he knew when to lay down his cowl," they said to his face.
In his sleeping room he was alone: for since their return from the
Bittse wedding, the mother had kept her child with her. She no longer
urged him to study, and all his days were spent in playing. As soon as
Father Peter was alone in his room, he drank a pitcher of water, and
poured another over his head, to wash away all traces left on his face
by the revellers' kisses. Then he knelt down before his bed, and
struggled with serious thoughts; his brow on his folded hands. The old
man was aroused in him, the defiant,--the man of hot, passionate love;
the devil of pride was struggling to break the fetters of his vow.
Already he felt a loathing for the cowl he wore. His soul was no longer
oppressed by the weight of a great guilt. The insult of the father had
released him from the blood-money for the son.
Friday before this, a message had come from the Jesuit monastery to the
lady of the castle, to the effect that she should not serve her guests
any meat that day, and that she should send back Peter, who must be
brought before an ecclesiastical court for his sins of conduct. The
widow sent back in reply a letter and a purse. In the letter she said:
"I send you back, not one, but a thousand Peters;" and in the purse were
a thousand gold pieces stamped for the emperor Peter. And the fathers
made answer: "Also serve the fish."
Tihamer Csorbai had a horror of Father Peter. He could not find his
faith again. Every dream misled him: and there were dreams that his
waking moments carried on,--fabulous treasures, for which the waking man
had only to stretch out his hand to hold what he had seen in the dreams
of sleep.
During these few days, Idalia was not recognizable. For days at a time,
she would not leave her sitting-room, but worked there with her maids
like a simple peasant girl who prepares her trousseau. She stayed at the
banquet only long enough to eat and drink, and then vanish. This great
tumult was only to defy the world. She herself played the coy maiden,
who waits for her wooer, and whispers to her mother, "There is a suitor
in the house." If by chance she met Father Peter, she drew back before
him.
Sunday morning, the company scattered to the four winds. "Six days shalt
thou eat and drink, but the seventh is holy--" so it stands written.
When the bells for early mass rang, Idalia dressed herself for church,
and took her jewelled prayer-book in her hand. But first she summoned
Father Peter.
"I am going to church. Perhaps for the last time to the Roman church. Do
not come to-day; leave me alone. Meantime, take care of my only
treasure." And then she covered Cupid's cheek with kisses, and went to
church.
"Do you see how fond my mother is of me?" said Cupid, throwing his arms
about Father Peter's neck. "Since we have come back she is so fond of
me. That's because you're fond of her, I know, for she whispered it in
my ear. You're not Father Peter, but Tihamer. Nights, she says this name
over and over, and then she hugs and kisses me. Once I asked her who
Tihamer was; at that she turned red, and laughing loudly, covered my
mouth; then she took me up on her lap and kissed me. 'Wouldn't it be
fine if you had to say Papa-Tihamer?' That means you. I know; you need
not try to make believe to me,--you're no monk; I knew that when you
threw the ball at the Fool's head. Do you know what my mother and her
four maids are working at in her quarters? Come, I'll show you, there's
nobody there. They're all gone to church." And the child dragged Father
Peter into his mother's innermost room, where he had never been before.
It was a marvel of convenience and elegance. Cupid ran to a richly
carved wardrobe, which he opened. In it hung a rich travelling cloak
trimmed with rosettes, and large buttons, lace, and gold embroidery.
"That's what they've been sewing and embroidering. And do you know who
is to have this for a present? Why, it's for Tihamer, and nobody else.
They told me not to tell anybody, but I'll just tell you. To-day is
Sunday and to-night, when you go to bed, you'll find on your bed these
clothes, and riding boots, and a gold sword. Yes, you can try them all
on and see if they fit."
Father Peter looked around him. He thought he caught sight of the
tempting countenance of a grinning demon behind him, and this urged him
a step farther.
"Yes, and I know something more," Cupid went on. "From to-day on, every
night down in the summer house, there'll be two horses saddled, and the
key is left in the rear gate. I heard her arrange it all with the
gate-keeper. For you know the monks down there keep watch over our gate
day and night, so that if Father Peter should once try to escape from
here, they could pursue him and catch him and throw him down into a deep
dungeon, because he tried to run away. But if you two slip out through
the garden gate some night, on those good horses, with me tucked under
the cloak of one of you, then the monks may follow, but they will never
overtake us."
Cupid's shafts all went home. All these preparations fitted so well into
the framework of those dreams which the monk pursued day and night,
when they did not pursue him. The entire plan of flight was completed;
all one had to do was to adopt it. All obstacles were removed. The monk
who flees with a woman may be arrested in any village, bound and brought
back; but when a distinguished couple, on richly caparisoned horses,
dash along, who would stop them?
"But you're not going to leave me, I'll tell you that beforehand," Cupid
ran on. "There's a little fox-skin ready for me too, and little boots
bordered with rabbit; don't be afraid, Mamma won't leave me behind. She
takes me up on her lap now, just as she used to when I was a little boy,
and as we are in the picture. Would you like to see the picture? I'll
show it to you. It isn't everybody can see it at any time. It's shut up,
but I know just how to press the springs, so it will open." He was then
in front of the carved work which divided as he pressed a spring. When
the picture came in sight, it lighted up the whole room, it was of such
radiant beauty. It was an Italian masterpiece--Venus and Cupid, the
veritable goddess of the myth, with the magic charms of beauty, in the
act of bathing her child; her eyes were turned toward the spectator,
languishingly, roguishly, seductively; a companion piece to the Venus
of Correggio. The monk held his hands before his eyes,--he was dazzled.
"Shut it up," he ordered the boy.
"You're not afraid of it, are you, that it will hurt you?"
Father Peter hurried out of Idalia's room. At the door, he met the lady.
His eyes betrayed the struggle of his soul. Idalia was gracious, and
acted as if she had noticed nothing. She looked down.
"I have just come from church, Father. I have sinned, and wish to
confess."
Father Peter looked at her in astonishment.
"Yes, I have sinned in the church, and now I have come for you to shrive
me. I sinned at the altar when I was praying. I prayed God: 'I thank
Thee, Lord, that Thou hast not prevented me from doing what I vowed to
do, and that was to rob Thine altar of one whom my heart loves. I thank
Thee that Thou hast sent upon us shame and disgrace to drive him away
from Thy holy offices. I beg Thee, I pray Thee, grant me to hurry him
away with me to destruction. Close the gates of Heaven against us. Grant
that I may make him a heretic and a denier of the saints. Grant me to
lead this saint out of the number of Thy believers; send me Thy evil
angel to aid me in this work of mine.' This was my prayer at the altar
named in honor of Ignatius Loyola, while they were singing the Dominus
vobiscum. It was a sin, Father, I smite my breast and own it was a sin,
I kneel before you; do you absolve me?"
Father Peter took the hand of the penitent and raised her. His tongue
could with difficulty shape the words, "I absolve you."
"You do absolve me!" cried the woman, and pressed passionately the hand
that he, unthinking, had left in hers. "Then you have absolved me, and I
bind you to it."
Then she hurried in triumph from the room, leaving him alone. From the
inner room rang out the laugh of Venus and Cupid. To be sure, the
picture was still open, and probably it was at that they laughed.