Then a veiled woman approached the monk, holding in her hand a branch of myrtle.  She said to him—­

“Look!  Some seek eternal beauty, and place their ephemeral life in the infinite.  Others live without much thought.  But by that alone they submit to fair Nature, and they are happy and beautiful in the joy of living only, and give glory to the supreme artist of all things; for man is a noble hymn to God.  All think that happiness is innocent, and that pleasure is permitted to man.  Paphnutius, if they are right, what a dupe you have been!”

And the vision vanished.

Thus was Paphnutius tempted unceasingly in body and mind.  Satan never gave him a minute’s repose.  The solitude of the tomb was more peopled than the streets of a great city.  The devils shouted with laughter, and millions of imps, evil genii, and phantoms imitated all the ordinary transactions of life.  In the evening, when he went to the spring, satyrs and nymphs capered round him, and tried to drag him into their lascivious dances.  The demons no longer feared him.  They loaded him with insults, obscene jests, and blows.  One day a devil, no longer than his arm, stole the cord he wore round his waist.

He said to himself—­

“Thought, whither hast thou led me?”

And he resolved to work with his hands, in order to give his mind that rest of which it had need.  Near the spring, some banana trees, with large leaves, grew under the shade of the palms.  He cut the stalks, and carried them to the tomb.  He crushed them with a stone, and reduced them to fibres, as he had seen ropemakers do.  For he intended to make a cord, to replace that which the devil had stolen.  The demons were somewhat displeased at this; they ceased their clamour, and the girl with the theorbo no longer continued her magic arts, but remained quietly on the wall.  The courage and faith of Paphnutius increased whilst he pounded the banana stems.

“With Heaven’s help,” he said to himself, “I shall subdue the flesh.  As to my soul, its confidence is still unshaken.  In vain do the devils, and that accursed woman, try to instil into my mind doubts as to the nature of God.  I will reply to them, by the mouth of the Apostle John, ’In the beginning was the Word, and the Word was God.’  That I firmly believe, and that which I believe is absurd, I believe still more firmly.  In fact it should be 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.