Pabo, the Priest: A NovelBaring-Gould, S. (Sabine)
History
Pabo, the Priest: A Novel
Baring-Gould, S. (Sabine)
Great Britain -- History -- Henry I, 1100-1135 -- Fiction; Priests -- Fiction; Wales -- Fiction
Native princes had respected the sanctuary of David, but an English King
and foreign adventurers were not likely to regard its privileges, nor
fear the wrath of the saint who had hitherto rendered it inviolable.
Bishop Bernard had at his back not only the whole spiritual force of
the Latin Church, the most highly concentrated and practically organized
in Christendom, but he was specially the emissary of the English King,
with all the physical power of the realm to support him; and what was
the prospect of a little green basin in the mountains, isolated from the
world, occupied by three thousand people, belonging to the most loosely
compacted Church that existed, with no political force to maintain its
right and champion its independence--what chance had the sanctuary of
David in Caio against the resentment of the English King and the Roman
Church? Neither, as experience showed, was likely to pass over an
affront. One would sustain the other in exacting a severe chastisement.
The hermit, who after over thirty years of retirement in one cell, far
up the Mount Mallaen, had suddenly, and unsolicited, left his retreat to
appear once more among his fellow-men, and then to pronounce a sentence
of wo, had sunk exhausted after this supreme effort of expiring powers,
and had been removed into the Archpriest's house, where he was
ministered to by Morwen, Pabo's wife.
The old man lay as one in a trance, and speechless. His eyes were open,
but he saw nothing on earth, and no efforts could induce him to take
nourishment. With folded hands, muttering lips, and glazed eyes he
continued for several days. Pabo and his wife looked on with reverence,
not knowing whether he were talking with invisible beings which he saw.
He answered no questions put to him; he seemed not to hear them, and he
hardly stirred from the position which he assumed when laid on a bed in
the house.
The hermit of Mallaen had been regarded with unbounded reverence
throughout the country. He had been visited for counsel, his words had
been esteemed oracular, and he was even credited with having performed
miraculous cures.
That he was dying in their midst would have created greater attention
and much excitement among the people of Caio at any other time, but now
they were in a fever over the events of the bishop's visit, their alarm
over the enforcing of the decree on marriages, and their expectation of
punishment for the rough handling of their unwelcome visitors; and when
one night the old hermit passed away, it was hardly noticed, and Morwen
was left almost unassisted to pay the last duties to the dead, to place
the plate of salt on his breast when laid out, and to light the candles
at the head.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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