his comes from the refectory."
He rushed to the door and threw it hastily open, then stood, as if
chained to the threshold, and stared with horror at the mad spectacle
before him.

There were no murderous strangers there playing wild havoc amongst his
monks: but the worthy fathers themselves were making the fierce tumult
which filled the prior with alarm. The saloon no longer resembled the
ascetic, peaceful refectory of cloister brothers. It was changed into
a battle-field, upon which the two hosts thirsting for blood stood
opposed.

The table upon which the glasses, plates, and dishes seemed to have been
thrown together in wild disorder, was shoved to one side, and in the
open space the monks stood with flashing eyes, uttering curses and
imprecations; not one of them remarked that the prior and Cocceji stood
at the door, astonished spectators of this unheard-of combat.

"Silence!" said the father guardian, making frantic gesticulations
toward the monks who stood opposed to him and his adherents--"silence!
no one shall dare within these sacred walls to speak of the Prussian
heretical king in any other way than with imprecations. Whoever wishes
success to his arms is an apostate, a traitor, and heretic. God has
raised the sword of His wrath against him, and He will crush him
utterly; He has blessed the weapons of his adversaries as Clement has
also done. Long live Maria Theresa, her apostolic majesty!"

The monks by his side roared out, "Long live Maria Theresa, her
apostolic majesty!"

"She will not be victorious over Frederick of Prussia," cried Father
Anselmo, the leader of the opposite party. "The Pope has blessed the
arms of Daun, but God himself has blessed the weapons of Frederick. Long
live the King of Prussia! Long live the great Frederick!"

"Long live the great Frederick!" cried the monks by the side of Father
Anselmo.

The party of the father guardian rushed upon them with doubled fists;
the adversaries followed their example. "Long live Theresa!" cried the
one. "Long live Frederick!" cried the other--and the blows and kicks
fell thickly right and left, with the most lavish prodigality.

It was in vain that the prior advanced among them and commanded
peace--no one regarded him. In their wild and indiscriminate rage they
pressed him and shoved him from side to side, and in the heat of the
battle several powerful blows fell upon his breast; so the poor prior
took refuge again at the door near Cocceji,