laims:

"Help, my God!"

The shadows resume their former position.

"Ah! it was an illusion--nothing more. It is useless for me to torment
my soul, I have no need to do so--absolutely no need!"

He sits down and crosses his arms.

"And yet methought I felt the approach ... But why should _he_ come?
Besides, do I not know his artifices? I have repelled the monstrous
anchorite who, with a laugh, offered me little hot loaves; the centaur
who tried to take me on his back; and that vision of a beautiful dusky
maid amid the sands, which revealed itself to me as the spirit of
voluptuousness."

Antony walks up and down rapidly.

"It is by my direction that all these holy retreats have been built,
full of monks wearing hair-cloths beneath their goatskins, and numerous
enough to furnish forth an army. I have healed diseases at a distance. I
have banished demons. I have waded through the river in the midst of
crocodiles. The Emperor Constantine has written me three letters; and
Balacius, who treated with contempt the letter I sent him, has been torn
by his own horses. The people of Alexandria, whenever I reappeared
amongst them, fought to get a glimpse of me; and Athanasius was my guide
when I took my departure. But what toils, too, I have had to undergo!
Here, for more than thirty years, have I been constantly groaning in the
desert! I have carried on my loins eighty pounds of bronze, like
Eusebius; I have exposed my body to the stings of insects, like
Macarius; I have remained fifty-three nights without closing an eye,
like Pachomius; and those who are decapitated, torn with pincers, or
burnt, possess less virtue, perhaps, inasmuch as my life is a continual
martyrdom!"

Antony slackens his pace.

"Certainly there is no one who undergoes so much mortification.
Charitable hearts are growing fewer, and people never give me anything
now. My cloak is worn out, and I have no sandals, nor even a porringer;
for I gave all my goods and chattels to the poor and my own family,
without keeping a single obolus for myself. Should I not need a little
money to get the tools that are indispensable for my work? Oh! not
much--a little sum! ... I would husband it.

"The Fathers of Nicaea were ranged in purple robes on thrones along the
wall, like the Magi; and they were entertained at a banquet, while
honours were heaped upon them, especially on Paphnutius, merely because
he has lost an eye and is lame since Dioclesian's persecution! M