The Temptation of St. Antony; Or, A Revelation of the Soul. Gustave Flaubert

child is small, like a dwarf, and yet thickset, like one of the Cabiri, distorted, and with a miserable aspect. White hair covers his prodigiously large head, and he shivers under a sorry tunic, while he grasps in his hand a roll of papyrus. The light of the moon, across which a cloud is passing, falls upon him.

      Antony observes him from a distance, and is afraid of him.

      "Who are you?"

      The child replies:

      "Your former disciple, Hilarion."

      Antony– "You lie! Hilarion has been living for many years in Palestine."

      Hilarion– "I have returned from it! It is I, in good sooth!"

      Antony, draws closer and inspects him – "Why, his figure was bright as the dawn, open, joyous. This one is quite sombre, and has an aged look."

      Hilarion– "I am worn out with constant toiling."

      Antony– "The voice, too, is different. It has a tone that chills you."

      Hilarion– "That is because I nourish myself on bitter fare."

      Antony– "And those white locks?"

      Hilarion– "I have had so many griefs."

      Antony, aside – "Can it be possible? …"

      Hilarion– "I was not so far away as you imagined. The hermit, Paul, paid you a visit this year during the month of Schebar. It is just twenty days since the nomads brought you bread. You told a sailor the day before yesterday to send you three bodkins."

      Antony– "He knows everything!"

      Hilarion– "Learn, too, that I have never left you. But you spend long intervals without perceiving me."

      Antony– "How is that? No doubt my head is troubled! To-night especially …"

      Hilarion– "All the deadly sins have arrived. But their miserable snares are of no avail against a saint like you!"

      Antony– "Oh! no! no! Every minute I give way! Would that I were one of those whose souls are always intrepid and their minds firm – like the great Athanasius, for example!"