The World of Romance | Page 9

William Morris
very much in the habit of crucifying
children in mockery of the Holiest, holding gorgeous feasts while they
beheld the poor innocents die? These men are Atheists, you are in a
trap, yet quit yourself like a man."
"Ah, sharp one," thought I, the author, "where are you at last? try to
pray as a test.--Well, well, these things are strangely like devils.--O
man, you have talked about bravery often, now is your time to practise
it: once for all trust in God, or I fear you are lost."
Moreover it increased my horror that there was no appearance of a
woman in all these rooms; and yet was there not? there, those things--I
looked more intently; yes, no doubt they were women, but all dressed
like men;--what a ghastly place!
"O man! do your duty," my angel said; then in spite of the bloodshot
eyes of man and woman there, in spite of their bold looks, they quailed

before me.
I stepped up to the bed-side, where under the velvet coverlid lay the
dying man, his small sparkling eyes only (but dulled now by coming
death) showing above the swathings. I was about to kneel down by the
bed-side to confess him, when one of those--things--called out (now
they had just been whispering and sniggering together, but the priest in
his righteous, brave scorn would not look at them; the humbled author,
half fearful, half trustful, dared not) so one called out:
"Sir Priest, for three days our master has spoken no articulate word;
you must pass over all particulars; ask for a sign only."
Such a strange ghastly suspicion flashed across me just then; but I
choked it, and asked the dying man if he repented of his sins, and if he
believed all that was necessary to salvation, and, if so, to make a sign,
if he were able: the man moved a little and groaned; so I took it for a
sign, as he was clearly incapable either of speaking or moving, and
accordingly began the service for the administration of the sacraments;
and as I began, those behind me and through all the rooms (I know it
was through all of them) began to move about, in a bewildering
dance-like motion, mazy and intricate; yes, and presently music struck
up through all those rooms, music and singing, lively and gay; many of
the tunes I had heard before (in the nineteenth century) I could have
sworn to half a dozen of the polkas.
The rooms grew fuller and fuller of people; they passed thick and fast
between the rooms, and the hangings were continually rustling; one fat
old man with a big belly crept under the bed where I was, and wheezed
and chuckled there, laughing and talking to one who stooped down and
lifted up the hangings to look at him.
Still more and more people talking and singing and laughing and
twirling about, till my brain went round and round, and I scarce knew
what I did; yet, somehow, I could not leave off; I dared not even look
over my shoulder, fearing lest I should see something so horrible as to
make me die.

So I got on with the service, and at last took the pyx, and took thereout
the sacred wafer, whereupon was a deep silence through all those
rooms, which troubled me, I think, more than all which had gone
before, for I knew well it did not mean reverence.
I held It up, that which I counted so holy, when lo! great laughter,
echoing like thunder-claps through all the rooms, not dulled by the
veiling hangings, for they were all raised up together, and, with a slow
upheaval of the rich clothes among which he lay, with a sound that was
half snarl, half grunt, with a helpless body swathed in bedclothes, a
huge swine that I had been shriving tore from me the Holy Thing,
deeply scoring my hand as he did so with tusk and tooth, so that the red
blood ran quick on to the floor.
Therewithall he rolled down on to the floor, and lay there helplessly,
only able to roll to and fro, because of the swathings.
Then right madly skirled the intolerable laughter, rising to shrieks that
were fearfuller than any scream of agony I ever heard; the hundreds of
people through all those grand rooms danced and wheeled about me,
shrieking, hemming me in with interlaced arms, the women loosing
their long hair and thrusting forward their horribly-grinning unsexed
faces toward me till I felt their hot breath.
Oh! how I hated them all! almost hated all mankind for their sakes;
how I longed to get right quit of all men; among whom, as it seemed,
all sacredest things even were made a
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