CHAPTER VIII.
"INTROIBO ad altare Dei." Montanelli stood before the high altar amonghis ministers and acolytes and read the Introit aloud in steady tones.All the Cathedral was a blaze of light and colour; from the holidaydresses of the congregation to the pillars with their flaming draperiesand wreaths of flowers there was no dull spot in it. Over the openspaces of the doorway fell great scarlet curtains, through whose foldsthe hot June sunlight glowed, as through the petals of red poppies ina corn-field. The religious orders with their candles and torches, thecompanies of the parishes with their crosses and flags, lighted up thedim side-chapels; and in the aisles the silken folds of the processionalbanners drooped, their gilded staves and tassels glinting under thearches. The surplices of the choristers gleamed, rainbow-tinted, beneaththe coloured windows; the sunlight lay on the chancel floor inchequered stains of orange and purple and green. Behind the altar hunga shimmering veil of silver tissue; and against the veil and thedecorations and the altar-lights the Cardinal's figure stood out in itstrailing white robes like a marble statue that had come to life.
As was customary on processional days, he was only to preside at theMass, not to celebrate, so at the end of the Indulgentiam he turnedfrom the altar and walked slowly to the episcopal throne, celebrant andministers bowing low as he passed.
"I'm afraid His Eminence is not well," one of the canons whispered tohis neighbour; "he seems so strange."
Montanelli bent his head to receive the jewelled mitre. The priest whowas acting as deacon of honour put it on, looked at him for an instant,then leaned forward and whispered softly:
"Your Eminence, are you ill?"
Montanelli turned slightly towards him. There was no recognition in hiseyes.
"Pardon, Your Eminence!" the priest whispered, as he made a genuflexionand went back to his place, reproaching himself for having interruptedthe Cardinal's devotions.
The familiar ceremony went on; and Montanelli sat erect and still, hisglittering mitre and gold-brocaded vestments flashing back the sunlight,and the heavy folds of his white festival mantle sweeping down over thered carpet. The light of a hundred candles sparkled among the sapphireson his breast, and shone into the deep, still eyes that had no answeringgleam; and when, at the words: "Benedicite, pater eminentissime,"he stooped to bless the incense, and the sunbeams played among thediamonds, he might have recalled some splendid and fearful ice-spiritof the mountains, crowned with rainbows and robed in drifted snow,scattering, with extended hands, a shower of blessings or of curses.
At the elevation of the Host he descended from his throne and kneltbefore the altar. There was a strange, still evenness about all hismovements; and as he rose and went back to his place the major ofdragoons, who was sitting in gala uniform behind the Governor, whisperedto the wounded captain: "The old Cardinal's breaking, not a doubt of it.He goes through his work like a machine."
"So much the better!" the captain whispered back. "He's been nothing buta mill-stone round all our necks ever since that confounded amnesty."
"He did give in, though, about the court-martial."
"Yes, at last; but he was a precious time making up his mind to.Heavens, how close it is! We shall all get sun-stroke in the procession.It's a pity we're not Cardinals, to have a canopy held over our headsall the way---- Sh-sh-sh! There's my uncle looking at us!"
Colonel Ferrari had turned round to glance severely at the two youngerofficers. After the solemn event of yesterday morning he was in a devoutand serious frame of mind, and inclined to reproach them with a want ofproper feeling about what he regarded as "a painful necessity of state."
The masters of the ceremonies began to assemble and place in order thosewho were to take part in the procession. Colonel Ferrari rose from hisplace and moved up to the chancel-rail, beckoning to the other officersto accompany him. When the Mass was finished, and the Host had beenplaced behind the crystal shield in the processional sun, the celebrantand his ministers retired to the sacristy to change their vestments, anda little buzz of whispered conversation broke out through the church.Montanelli remained seated on his throne, looking straight before him,immovably. All the sea of human life and motion seemed to surge aroundand below him, and to die away into stillness about his feet. A censerwas brought to him; and he raised his hand with the action of anautomaton, and put the incense into the vessel, looking neither to theright nor to the left.
The clergy had come back from the sacristy, and were waiting in thechancel for him to descend; but he remained utterly motionless. Thedeacon of honour, bending forward to take off the mitre, whisperedagain, hesitatingly:
"Your Eminence!"
The Cardinal looked round.
"What did you say?"
"Are you quite sure the procession will not be too much for you? The sunis very hot."
"What does the sun matter?"
Montanelli spoke in a cold, measured voice, and the priest again fanciedthat he must have given offence.
"Forgive me, Your Eminence. I thought you seemed unwell."
Montanelli rose without answering. He paused a moment on the upper stepof the throne, and asked in the same measured way:
"What is that?"
The long train of his mantle swept down over the steps and lay spreadout on the chancel-floor, and he was pointing to a fiery stain on thewhite satin.
"It's only the sunlight shining through a coloured window, YourEminence."
"The sunlight? Is it so red?"
He descended the steps, and knelt before the altar, swinging the censerslowly to and fro. As he handed it back, the chequered sunlight fell onhis bared head and wide, uplifted eyes, and cast a crimson glow acrossthe white veil that his ministers were folding round him.
He took from the deacon the sacred golden sun; and stood up, as choirand organ burst into a peal of triumphal melody.
"Pange, lingua, g]oriosi Corporis mysterium, Sanguinisque pretiosi Quem in mundi pretium, Fructus ventris generosi Rex effudit gentium."
The bearers came slowly forward, and raised the silken canopy over hishead, while the deacons of honour stepped to their places at his rightand left and drew back the long folds of the mantle. As the acolytesstooped to lift his robe from the chancel-floor, the lay fraternitiesheading the procession started to pace down the nave in stately doublefile, with lighted candles held to left and right.
He stood above them, by the altar, motionless under the white canopy,holding the Eucharist aloft with steady hands, and watched them as theypassed. Two by two, with candles and banners and torches, with crossesand images and flags, they swept slowly down the chancel steps, alongthe broad nave between the garlanded pillars, and out under the liftedscarlet curtains into the blazing sunlight of the street; and the soundof their chanting died into a rolling murmur, drowned in the pealingof new and newer voices, as the unending stream flowed on, and yet newfootsteps echoed down the nave.
The companies of the parishes passed, with their white shrouds andveiled faces; then the brothers of the Misericordia, black from head tofoot, their eyes faintly gleaming through the holes in their masks. Nextcame the monks in solemn row: the mendicant friars, with their duskycowls and bare, brown feet; the white-robed, grave Dominicans. Thenfollowed the lay officials of the district; dragoons and carabineersand the local police-officials; the Governor in gala uniform, with hisbrother officers beside him. A deacon followed, holding up a great crossbetween two acolytes with gleaming candles; and as the curtains werelifted high to let them pass out at the doorway, Montanelli caught amomentary glimpse, from where he stood under the canopy, of the sunlitblaze of carpeted street and flag-hung walls and white-robed childrenscattering roses. Ah, the roses; how red they were!
On and on the procession paced in order; form succeeding to form andcolour to colour. Long white surplices, grave and seemly, gave placeto gorgeous vestments and embroidered pluvials. Now passed a tall andslender golden cross, borne high above the lighted candles; now thecathedra
l canons, stately in their dead white mantles. A chaplain paceddown the chancel, with the crozier between two flaring torches; then theacolytes moved forward in step, their censers swinging to the rhythm ofthe music; the bearers raised the canopy higher, counting their steps:"One, two; one, two!" and Montanelli started upon the Way of the Cross.
Down the chancel steps and all along the nave he passed; under thegallery where the organ pealed and thundered; under the lifted curtainsthat were so red--so fearfully red; and out into the glaring street,where the blood-red roses lay and withered, crushed into the red carpetby the passing of many feet. A moment's pause at the door, while thelay officials came forward to replace the canopy-bearers; then theprocession moved on again, and he with it, his hands clasping theEucharistic sun, and the voices of the choristers swelling and dyingaround him, with the rhythmical swaying of censers and the rolling trampof feet.
"Verbum caro, panem verum, Verbo carnem efficit; Sitque sanguis Christi merum----"
Always blood and always blood! The carpet stretched before him like ared river; the roses lay like blood splashed on the stones---- Oh, God!Is all Thine earth grown red, and all Thy heaven? Ah, what is it toThee, Thou mighty God----Thou, whose very lips are smeared with blood!
"Tantum ergo Sacramentum, Veneremur cernui."
He looked through the crystal shield at the Eucharist. What was thatoozing from the wafer--dripping down between the points of the goldensun--down on to his white robe? What had he seen dripping down--drippingfrom a lifted hand?
The grass in the courtyard was trampled and red,--all red,--there wasso much blood. It was trickling down the cheek, and dripping from thepierced right hand, and gushing in a hot red torrent from the woundedside. Even a lock of the hair was dabbled in it,--the hair that lay allwet and matted on the forehead--ah, that was the death-sweat; it camefrom the horrible pain.
The voices of the choristers rose higher, triumphantly:
"Genitori, genitoque, Laus et jubilatio, Salus, honor, virtus quoque, Sit et benedictio."
Oh, that is more than any patience can endure! God, Who sittest on thebrazen heavens enthroned, and smilest with bloody lips, looking downupon agony and death, is it not enough? Is it not enough, without thismockery of praise and blessing? Body of Christ, Thou that wast brokenfor the salvation of men; blood of Christ, Thou that wast shed for theremission of sins; is it not enough?
"Ah, call Him louder; perchance He sleepeth!
"Dost Thou sleep indeed, dear love; and wilt Thou never wake again? Isthe grave so jealous of its victory; and will the black pit under thetree not loose Thee even for a little, heart's delight?"
Then the Thing behind the crystal shield made answer, and the blooddripped down as It spoke:
"Hast thou chosen, and wilt repent of thy choice? Is thy desire notfulfilled? Look upon these men that walk in the light and are clad insilk and in gold: for their sake was I laid in the black pit. Look uponthe children scattering roses, and hearken to their singing if it besweet: for their sake is my mouth filled with dust, and the roses arered from the well-springs of my heart. See where the people kneel todrink the blood that drips from thy garment-hem: for their sake was itshed, to quench their ravening thirst. For it is written: 'Greater lovehath no man than this, if a man lay down his life for his friends.'"
"Oh, Arthur, Arthur; there is greater love than this! If a man lay downthe life of his best beloved, is not that greater?"
And It answered again:
"Who is thy best beloved? In sooth, not I."
And when he would have spoken the words froze on his tongue, for thesinging of the choristers passed over them, as the north wind over icypools, and hushed them into silence:
"Dedit fragilibus corporis ferculum, Dedit et tristibus sanguinis poculum, Dicens: Accipite, quod trado vasculum Omnes ex eo bibite."
Drink of it, Christians; drink of it, all of you! Is it not yours? Foryou the red stream stains the grass; for you the living flesh is searedand torn. Eat of it, cannibals; eat of it, all of you! This is yourfeast and your orgy; this is the day of your joy! Haste you and come tothe festival; join the procession and march with us; women and children,young men and old men--come to the sharing of flesh! Come to the pouringof blood-wine and drink of it while it is red; take and eat of theBody----
Ah, God; the fortress! Sullen and brown, with crumbling battlementsand towers dark among the barren hills, it scowled on the processionsweeping past in the dusty road below. The iron teeth of the portculliswere drawn down over the mouth of the gate; and as a beast crouchedon the mountain-side, the fortress guarded its prey. Yet, be the teethclenched never so fast, they shall be broken and riven asunder; and thegrave in the courtyard within shall yield up her dead. For the Christianhosts are marching, marching in mighty procession to their sacramentalfeast of blood, as marches an army of famished rats to the gleaning; andtheir cry is: "Give! Give!" and they say not: "It is enough."
"Wilt thou not be satisfied? For these men was I sacrificed; thou hastdestroyed me that they might live; and behold, they march everyone onhis ways, and they shall not break their ranks.
"This is the army of Christians, the followers of thy God; a greatpeople and a strong. A fire devoureth before them, and behind them aflame burneth; the land is as the garden of Eden before them, and behindthem a desolate wilderness; yea, and nothing shall escape them."
"Oh, yet come back, come back to me, beloved; for I repent me of mychoice! Come back, and we will creep away together, to some dark andsilent grave where the devouring army shall not find us; and we will layus down there, locked in one another's arms, and sleep, and sleep, andsleep. And the hungry Christians shall pass by in the merciless daylightabove our heads; and when they howl for blood to drink and for flesh toeat, their cry shall be faint in our ears; and they shall pass on theirways and leave us to our rest."
And It answered yet again:
"Where shall I hide me? Is it not written: 'They shall run to and froin the city; they shall run upon the wall; they shall climb up upon thehouses; they shall enter in at the windows like a thief?' If I build mea tomb on the mountain-top, shall they not break it open? If I dig me agrave in the river-bed, shall they not tear it up? Verily, they are keenas blood-hounds to seek out their prey; and for them are my wounds red,that they may drink. Canst thou not hear them, what they sing?"
And they sang, as they went in between the scarlet curtains of theCathedral door; for the procession was over, and all the roses werestrewn:
"Ave, verum Corpus, natum De Maria Virgine: Vere passum, immolatum In cruce pro homine! Cujus latus perforatum Undam fluxit cum sanguinae; Esto nobis praegustatum Mortis in examinae."
And when they had left off singing, he entered at the doorway, andpassed between the silent rows of monks and priests, where they knelt,each man in his place, with the lighted candles uplifted. And he sawtheir hungry eyes fixed on the sacred Body that he bore; and he knew whythey bowed their heads as he passed. For the dark stream ran down thefolds of his white vestments; and on the stones of the Cathedral floorhis footsteps left a deep, red stain.
So he passed up the nave to the chancel rails; and there the bearerspaused, and he went out from under the canopy and up to the altar steps.To left and right the white-robed acolytes knelt with their censers andthe chaplains with their torches; and their eyes shone greedily in theflaring light as they watched the Body of the Victim.
And as he stood before the altar, holding aloft with blood-stained handsthe torn and mangled body of his murdered love, the voices of the guestsbidden to the Eucharistic feast rang out in another peal of song:
"Oh salutaris Hostia, Quae coeli pandis ostium; Bella praemunt hostilia, Da robur, fer, auxilium!"
Ah, and now they come to take the Body----Go then, dear heart, to thybitter doom, and open the gates of heaven for these ravening wolves thatwill n
ot be denied. The gates that are opened for me are the gates ofthe nethermost hell.
And as the deacon of honour placed the sacred vessel on the altar,Montanelli sank down where he had stood, and knelt upon the step; andfrom the white altar above him the blood flowed down and dripped uponhis head. And the voices of the singers rang on, pealing under thearches and echoing along the vaulted roof:
"Uni trinoque Domino Sit sempiterna gloria: Qui vitam sine termino Nobis donet in patria."
"Sine termino--sine termino!" Oh, happy Jesus, Who could sink beneathHis cross! Oh, happy Jesus, Who could say: "It is finished!" This doomis never ended; it is eternal as the stars in their courses. This is theworm that dieth not and the fire that is not quenched. "Sine termino,sine termino!"
Wearily, patiently, he went through his part in the remainingceremonies, fulfilling mechanically, from old habit, the rites that hadno longer any meaning for him. Then, after the benediction, he kneltdown again before the altar and covered his face; and the voice of thepriest reading aloud the list of indulgences swelled and sank like afar-off murmur from a world to which he belonged no more.
The voice broke off, and he stood up and stretched out his hand forsilence. Some of the congregation were moving towards the doors; andthey turned back with a hurried rustle and murmur, as a whisper wentthrough the Cathedral:
"His Eminence is going to speak."
His ministers, startled and wondering, drew closer to him and one ofthem whispered hastily: "Your Eminence, do you intend to speak to thepeople now?"
Montanelli silently waved him aside. The priests drew back, whisperingtogether; the thing was unusual, even irregular; but it was withinthe Cardinal's prerogative if he chose to do it. No doubt, he had somestatement of exceptional importance to make; some new reform from Rometo announce or a special communication from the Holy Father.
Montanelli looked down from the altar-steps upon the sea of upturnedfaces. Full of eager expectancy they looked up at him as he stood abovethem, spectral and still and white.
"Sh-sh! Silence!" the leaders of the procession called softly; and themurmuring of the congregation died into stillness, as a gust of winddies among whispering tree-tops. All the crowd gazed up, in breathlesssilence, at the white figure on the altar-steps. Slowly and steadily hebegan to speak:
"It is written in the Gospel according to St. John: 'God so loved theworld, that He gave His only begotten Son that the world through Himmight be saved.'
"This is the festival of the Body and Blood of the Victim who was slainfor your salvation; the Lamb of God, which taketh away the sins of theworld; the Son of God, Who died for your transgressions. And you areassembled here in solemn festival array, to eat of the sacrifice thatwas given for you, and to render thanks for this great mercy. And I knowthat this morning, when you came to share in the banquet, to eat of theBody of the Victim, your hearts were filled with joy, as you rememberedthe Passion of God the Son, Who died, that you might be saved.
"But tell me, which among you has thought of that other Passion--of thePassion of God the Father, Who gave His Son to be crucified? Which ofyou has remembered the agony of God the Father, when He bent from Histhrone in the heavens above, and looked down upon Calvary?
"I have watched you to-day, my people, as you walked in your ranks insolemn procession; and I have seen that your hearts are glad within youfor the remission of your sins, and that you rejoice in your salvation.Yet I pray you that you consider at what price that salvation wasbought. Surely it is very precious, and the price of it is above rubies;it is the price of blood."
A faint, long shudder passed through the listening crowd. In the chancelthe priests bent forward and whispered to one another; but the preacherwent on speaking, and they held their peace.
"Therefore it is that I speak with you this day: I AM THAT I AM. For Ilooked upon your weakness and your sorrow, and upon the little childrenabout your feet; and my heart was moved to compassion for their sake,that they must die. Then I looked into my dear son's eyes; and I knewthat the Atonement of Blood was there. And I went my way, and left himto his doom.
"This is the remission of sins. He died for you, and the darkness hasswallowed him up; he is dead, and there is no resurrection; he is dead,and I have no son. Oh, my boy, my boy!"
The Cardinal's voice broke in a long, wailing cry; and the voices of theterrified people answered it like an echo. All the clergy had risen fromtheir places, and the deacons of honour started forward to lay theirhands on the preacher's arm. But he wrenched it away, and faced themsuddenly, with the eyes of an angry wild beast.
"What is this? Is there not blood enough? Wait your turn, jackals; youshall all be fed!"
They shrank away and huddled shivering together, their pantingbreath thick and loud, their faces white with the whiteness of chalk.Montanelli turned again to the people, and they swayed and shook beforehim, as a field of corn before a hurricane.
"You have killed him! You have killed him! And I suffered it, because Iwould not let you die. And now, when you come about me with your lyingpraises and your unclean prayers, I repent me--I repent me that I havedone this thing! It were better that you all should rot in your vices,in the bottomless filth of damnation, and that he should live. What isthe worth of your plague-spotted souls, that such a price should be paidfor them? But it is too late--too late! I cry aloud, but he does nothear me; I beat at the door of the grave, but he will not wake; I standalone, in desert space, and look around me, from the blood-stained earthwhere the heart of my heart lies buried, to the void and awful heaventhat is left unto me, desolate. I have given him up; oh, generation ofvipers, I have given him up for you!
"Take your salvation, since it is yours! I fling it to you as a bone isflung to a pack of snarling curs! The price of your banquet is paid foryou; come, then, and gorge yourselves, cannibals, bloodsuckers--carrionbeasts that feed on the dead! See where the blood streams down from thealtar, foaming and hot from my darling's heart--the blood that was shedfor you! Wallow and lap it and smear yourselves red with it! Snatch andfight for the flesh and devour it--and trouble me no more! This is thebody that was given for you--look at it, torn and bleeding, throbbingstill with the tortured life, quivering from the bitter death-agony;take it, Christians, and eat!"
He had caught up the sun with the Host and lifted it above his head; andnow flung it crashing down upon the floor. At the ring of the metal onstone the clergy rushed forward together, and twenty hands seized themadman.
Then, and only then, the silence of the people broke in a wild,hysterical scream; and, overturning chairs and benches, beating at thedoorways, trampling one upon another, tearing down curtains and garlandsin their haste, the surging, sobbing human flood poured out upon thestreet.
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