absurd. If it were not so, I should not believe; I should know. And it is not that which we know which gives eternal life; it is faith only that saves."
He exposed the separated fibres to the sun and the dew, and every morning he took care to turn them, to prevent them rotting; and he rejoiced to find that he had become as simple as a child. When he had twisted his cord, he cut reeds to make mats and baskets. The sepulchral chamber resembled a basket-maker's workshop, and Paphnutius could pass without difficulty from work to prayer. Yet still God was not merciful to him, for one night he was awakened by a voice which froze him with horror, for he guessed that it was the voice of the dead man.
The voice called quickly, in a light whisper —
"Helen! Helen! come and bathe with me! come quickly!"
A woman, whose mouth was close to the monk's ear, replied —
"Friend, I cannot rise; a man is lying on me."
Paphnutius suddenly perceived that his cheek rested on a woman's breast. He recognised the player of the theorbo, who, partly relieved of his weight, raised her breast. He clung tightly to the sweet, warm, perfumed body, and consumed with the desire of damnation, he cried —
"Stay, stay, my heavenly one!"
But she was already standing on the threshold.
