Page:Blackwood's Magazine volume 046.djvu/245

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1839.]
Pietro d'Abano.
231

recess, the mighty book of his science. "Is it time?" cried Berecynth. "Peace!" said the old man solemnly, "and disturb not the holy charm with any useless mischievous babbling." He read, at first softly, and then in a louder and more vehement voice, as he moved up and down with measured steps, within the circle. After a time, he stopped and cried out, "Go, and see what sort of appearance the heavens present."

"Thick darkness," answered his servant, returning, "is over the face of the sky; the clouds are gathering, and rain is beginning to fall." "The heavens are propitious!" cried the old man—"we must succeed." He now knelt down, and, muttering imprecations, frequently touched the floor with his forehead. His countenance was flushed, and his eyes sparkled. He muttered the holy names which man is forbid to speak; and after a while he again sent his servant out to examine the firmament. Meanwhile, the gathering storm began to rage with all its force; lightning and thunder were slipt from their leashes, and the house trembled to its foundations. " Hearken to the storm!" cried Berecynth, coming back in haste, —"Hell bas broken loose from below, and is abroad with all his fires; and what with the crashing thunderbolts that are bursting upon us from above, the globe herself is almost shaken from her sphere. Cease your incantations, lest the very bands break which hold the solid universe together!"

"Fool! madman!" cried the magician—" Peace with that drivelling chatter! Haste and throw wide open all the doors—the door of the house also."

The dwarf departed to execute his master's commands. The magician, in the mean time lighted the consecrated tapers. With shuddering steps he approached the great torch which stood upon a lofty stand, and when it, too, had taken fire, then he prostrated himself to the ground, and offered up louder and louder adjurations. His eyes streamed with fire; his limbs trembled as if convulsively; and the cold sweat of anxiety burst forth from every pore. With frantic gestures, and in dreadful terror, the dwarf came bounding back from his errand, and took refuge within the circle. "The world is bursting into pieces!" cried he, with pale features and chattering teeth. "All the elements of honor and fury are abroad; but every living creature has retreated into the innermost recess of its dwelling, in order to escape the anguish of this terrible time."

The old man raised his countenance from the ground, death-pale, and with an expression of unfathomable horror, cried aloud in a strange accent "Silence! miserable slave! and disturb not the work. Take heed that you lose not your senses. The most appalling is yet to come."

With a loud voice, as if he would burst his chest, he again commenced reading and praying. His breath often tailed; and the violent exertions he made, appeared as if they would kill him. Then suddenly was heard a confused noise of voices wrangling with one another. They whispered they raved —they laughed —they blended together in song and with the whole was mixed up an intricate chiming of strange instruments. All the utensils now became living, and danced up and down the apartment. From every wall in the house, strange creatures of all kinds came pouring forth —beasts and monsters, abortions and living caricatures of the most abominable description —and writhed and twisted themselves about in figures of the most complicated variety.

"Master!" cried Berecynth, the house will soon be too small to hold them. What is to be done with this interminable host of spectres? Surely they must eat up one another. Alas! woe's me! each one of them is ever developing itself into ghastlier and more frantic numbers. I shall lose my senses amid their swarms, their yellings, and fitings—their bursts of laughter, and shrieks of passionate dreariment. Look! master, look! the walls are dilating—the chambers are stretching themselves away into vistas of infinity. We stand amid immeasurable halls. The ceilings are lifting themselves up into vaults of unfathomable height. And still the phantoms are shooting forth on all sides, and ever keep multiplying themselves with the growing space. What is to be done? Have you no succour for us amid the trials of this dreadful hour?"

Here Pietro raised himself up, dreadfully exhausted. "Look out once more," said be in a low voice; "direct thine eyes to the Cathedral, and tell me what thou see'st."