Peter the Priest. Mór Jókai
IN THE MONASTERY.
There were six of them besides the Prior and Abbot. The seventh was away in the village, collecting the gifts of charity.
"Benedicite," began the Prior. "Here is a message from our most gracious patroness." With that he laid upon the table a sealed letter in Latin, which the others passed from hand to hand. All understood it, but it was evident that not one of them liked the letter, for they turned up their noses, pursed their lips and knit their eyebrows.
"One of us is bidden to the court of our most munificent patroness to educate her only son."
"He is a little devil!" exclaimed the Abbot.
"He talks and whistles in church," cried another.
"He reviles the saints and the souls of the departed."
"He torments animals." Each one had something to say; especially the last.
"He is the accursed child of a mad mother."
"She is the destruction of all men," continued the Abbot. "She sins against all the commandments."
"She tramples under foot all the sacraments."
"She is a raging fury and a sacrilegious witch."
"She sent her husband to his grave with a deadly drink."
The Prior met all these horrible comments with a stoical calm. "Still she is our gracious patroness, and her son also will one day be our patron. We must drink the bitter cup to its dregs. Let us choose."
Still all shook their heads.
"I have the fever in my bones," said one, rubbing his leg.
"I have trouble with my liver," said another, and as proof he put out his tongue to the opposite brother, who hastened to say:
"It is my vocation to heal the sick."
Now all three looked at the fourth, who felt very confident of having the best excuse:
"And I am not acquainted with the Scythian speech, neither the Hungarian nor the Slavic."
The fifth was embarrassed what excuse to give:
"I have taken a vow never to speak to a woman."
Evidently no one cared for the office.
"Then let us send Peter," said the Prior calmly.
At this all five cried out: "He is too young," said one.
"But he is stern of character," replied the Prior.
"He will meet with very great temptations," threw in a second.
"The greater will be his triumph," returned the Prior.
"But he is still only a brother," a third protested.
"We can make him a father," the Prior answered. An answer which brought them all to their feet, opposing it loudly:
"That cannot be! that cannot be! our rules are against it."
"Then let some one else go," said the Prior coldly.
Silence fell upon the group: they shrugged their shoulders, fell back into their large richly carved arm-chairs, and murmured:
"Then let Peter be made father, and let father Peter go."
It was the student John's week in the bake-house, and from there he had heard every word; and now that the worthy fathers had gone away, he came out of the bake-house and hobbled off to the kitchen. The master of the kitchen was not there, but Samuel, a fellow-student, hung over the edge of a large two-handled tub. John was lank, and Samuel was thickset; both were in rags, out of respect to the golden saying, "In rags is a student at his best." It was the daily duty of these two students to carry to the pigs this large tub full of kitchen refuse. As soon as John saw that the kitchen master was not there, he began rummaging in the tub among the crusts of bread, apple parings, and scraps of mouldy cheese, selecting with an experienced eye.
"Leave some for Peter," growled Samuel, without raising his head from his knees.
John could not answer, for both cheeks were full. Samuel sprang up full of envy that John should be enjoying his feast with such gusto.
"Stop, you rascal! Leave some for the pigs." Then John looked for the pole to put through the handles of the tub.
"Take hold of the other end."
"I won't. Peter will be here soon and he carries it out alone."
"Peter will not be here."
"I hear his cart creaking now."
"All the same, he won't carry that tub out again. I heard what they said when I was in the bake-house."
"What did they say?" And the two sat down together on the edge of the tub for a gossip.
"The mistress of the castle sends for an instructor for her son, and they say that he a small devil."
"That's true, he's equal to twelve."
"He whistles in church."
"He puts sulphur in the incense when he assists at mass!"
"He curses and reviles the saints and the souls of the departed."
"He torments animals."
"You're right he does! He put a lighted sponge in my donkey's ear, and the poor beast smashed my cart."
"They said that he is as wild as his mother; and the Abbot said of her that she was the ruin of every man. Is that so?"
"Yes, she is a witch, who bridles men and rides them off to the devils' dance."
"They did say that she was a witch, and and that she broke all the ten commandments, and put the sacraments under her feet; and listen—they said that she mixed poison in her husband's drink, and he died of it!"
"That's like her! Once they sent me to her with a letter, and she ordered a cup of mead that had something in it that made me feel all night long as if I must crawl up the wall."
"But the Prior said that she was our gracious patroness, and that her son would one day be our patron, and that we must drink the bitter cup."
"I can see how they all trembled!"
"One said that he had fever in his bones, another had trouble with his liver, a third said he was busy healing the sick, a fourth that he did not know either Hungarian or Slavic, and the fifth was bound by a holy vow not to speak to a woman."
"And so in the end they send Peter."
"The Devil's in you! You've guessed it!"
"It may turn out well for him."
"One thought he was still too young, and the Prior said, but he is of strong character; another that he would be exposed to great temptations; several objected that Peter was still a brother. Then the Prior said, we'll make him a father. Then all objected, and the Prior said, Then one of you must go. Then they all gave in and said, well, make Peter a father, and let Father Peter be the one to go."
And then both the students began to laugh. "Peter will be in the right place there!" In the mean time, the creaking of the cartwheels stopped at the rear door; then came a knock; through this rear gate was an entrance into the court, but the duty of door-tender was limited to the main entrance.
"Do you hear? Peter's knocking."
"You hear him, yourself."
"Go open