Nile the monastic story of the murder of the monks on Mount Sinai and the captivity of Theodulus, his son

See also: Tales of the massacre of the monks on Mount Sinai and the captivity of Theodulus, son of St. Nilov. Neil of Sinai NILI ANCYRANI NARRATIO DE CAEDE MONACHORUM IN MONTE SINA The work of Nil Sinait, the translation of which into modern Russian is being brought to the attention of the domestic reader for the first time, had a truly amazing fate in the science of modern times. Almost every aspect of its form and content has become the subject of the most furious debate since the end of the last century. Moreover, all participants in the mentioned discussions used the only edition of Possin that existed at that time (Nili opera quaedam nondum edita / Ed. P. Possinus. P., 1639. reprinted in the Patrology of Migne [Migne J. P. Patrologiae cursus completus. Series Graeca. T. 79. P., 1865. Col. 589–694 .]), knowing full well about his complete inadequacy. Paradoxically, the first critical edition of this small monument appeared only in 1983! (Nilus Ancyranus. Narratio de caede monachorum in monte Sina / Ed. F. Conca. Lipsiae, 1983 (Bibliotheca Teubneriana). This translation is based on this edition.) Here is just one example of how poor quality text can complicate a research task. In 1924, F. M. Abel published a note where, on the basis of one discrepancy cited by Min, he suggested that the “Tale” mentions the settlement of Sbaita in the Negev desert (Abel F. M. Une mention byzantine de Sbaita // Byzantion. 1924. 1. P. 51–58.) (Possin’s main text included “Bitch”). Meanwhile, looking into the critical apparatus of Konka's edition (pp. 49, 20), one can find that the reading of Σουκα is available in only one manuscript, while three codes give a completely clear Συβαιτα, i.e. the fact of the mention of Sbaita does not even require separate evidence. Despite the lack of a reliable text, debate over the Tale continued for several decades. They were concentrated mainly around the following three problems: authorship, genre nature (and the related question of the share of artistic fiction), and the historical reliability of the numerous ethnographic details about the Bedouin nomads reported by Nile. [211] Let's start with authorship. Among the works of the Orthodox Fathers of the Church, a place of honor belongs to the letters and treatises of St. Nile of Ancyra (d. about 430), which treat various issues of Christian ethics and monastic life. At the same time, “The Tale of the Massacre of the Monks on Mount Sinai” in all codices without exception is attributed to “Monastic Nile,” who was already firmly identified in Byzantine times with Nile of Ancyra. This identification was first questioned by K. Heussi in 1917 (Heussi K. Untersuchungen zu Nilus dem Asketen. Lpz, 1917 (Texte und Untersuchungen zur Geschichte der altchristlischen Literatur, 42.2).) His conclusions, based mainly on a comparison of the literary style of the “Tale” and the works undoubtedly belonging to Rev. Nile, were received with somewhat hasty enthusiasm, and the thesis about the inauthenticity of our monument (or about the non-identity of Nile Sinaite with Nile of Ancyra) found its way into almost all general manuals and reference books on patristics (See, for example, Quasten J. Patrology. V. III. Utrecht, 1960. P. 496 f.; Altaner B., Stuiber A. Patrologie. Leben, Schriften und Lehre der Kirchenvater. Freiburg-Basel-Wien, 1978. S. 334.). Accordingly, the assessment of “The Tale” as a historical source suffered (more on this below). More recently, however, the arguments of the skeptics have been subjected to extensive and reasoned criticism (Ringshausen H. Zur Verfasserschaft und Chronologie der dem Nilus Ancyranus zugeschriebenen Werke: Inaugural-Dissertation. Frankfurt am Main, 1967.). F. Conca, who prepared a new edition of the text, in my opinion, quite convincingly proves that it is precisely in the field of style between the messages and treatises of Nilus of Ancira, on the one hand, and the “Tale”, on the other, that there are many parallels (Conca F. Osservazioni sullo stile di Nilo Ancirano // JOB. 32, II/3. P. 217–225.), and the existing discrepancies are not so much are great so that they cannot be explained by different genre settings. Since the data of the manuscript tradition are completely unambiguous, the onus probandi as a result again turned out to be those who deny that the “Tale” belongs to Nil of Ancyra. As far as I know, they have not yet put forward any new arguments, which means that the monument can be considered the creation of St. Nila. There is some confusion regarding the genre nature of the Tale. The fact is that, purely functionally, this work belongs to hagiography, since it was included in the menia and was used in liturgical practice in the commemoration of the venerable fathers - victims of the Arab raid. However, already in the last century, a striking similarity between Nile’s work and monuments of a completely different genre - the Hellenistic novel was noticed (The newest work on this topic: Conca F. Le Narrationes di Nilo e il romanzo greco // Atti del IV Congresso Nazionale di Studi Bizantini. Lecce, 1983. P. 343–354.). The confusion arose due to the fact that the researchers proceeded from the following premise: if the “Tale” is a hagiographic work, then it can be trusted, but if it is a novel, then it cannot be believed. For example, V. Christides (Christides V. Once again the “Narrations” of Nilus Sinaiticus // Byzantion. 1973. 43. P. 39–50.) justifies the high historical value of the story by the fact that it was written for the Sinai monks, and therefore could not contain, obviously, incorrect information about the same region. On the other hand, it is known that the Hellenistic novel is very characterized by fantastic descriptions of various exotic customs and unknown peoples (the most striking example is Heliodorus’ “Ethiopica”). In fact, one has no direct relation to the other - no matter what genre the “Tale” belongs to, its realism does not depend on it. Unlike Christides and many others, I believe that in this case we are not talking about a “hagiographic novel” or a “novella”. The only sign of a hagiography or hagiographical story in the analyzed monument is the exact date of death of the Sinai fathers (Nilus Ancyranus. Narratio. P. 26, 9–10.) (calendar fixation is necessary to establish the cult). To understand the fundamental non-hagiographic nature of “The Tale of the Massacre of the Monks,” it is enough to carefully consider the description of monastic life in Sinai (Chapter 3). As you can see, it is completely impersonal - while there are several alternatives (for example, some grow bread, while others eat only wild plants), there is no special indication of exactly how the dead monks labored. Only as a transitional remark it is said: “But they, being in such a disposition and thus serving the Divine, suddenly, like an unexpected storm, a barbarian horde flew from somewhere” (p. 20, [212] 3–4). Moreover, the story itself about the murder of the monks is only one of the episodes in the development of the main plot of a purely novel type - about the separation and reunion of Nile and his son Theodulus. To believe that Rev. Neil wrote just such an essay with the aim of glorifying his fallen brothers, which would mean suspecting him of hypertrophied egocentrism. Therefore, as it seems to me, what we have before us is nothing more than a novel, which subsequently, due to some features of its content, began to perform hagiographic functions that were originally unusual for it. This can explain the absence of any introduction and conclusion and even a final doxology (such as “... To Him be glory, honor and worship... forever and ever, Amen”). Does it follow that there is no historical reality behind Neil's story? Of course not. Even the most skeptical scholars admitted that the author of the Tale was well versed in the topography of Sinai and southern Palestine. Doubts about its reliability were raised primarily by the abundant and detailed information about the customs of nomadic Arab tribes and the political situation in the areas where the action takes place. It is interesting, however, that even when reading a very detailed article by one of the main skeptics, J. Henninger (Henninger J. Ist der sogenannte Nilus-Bericht eine brauchbare religionsgeschichtliche Quelle? // Anthropos. 1955. 50. S. 82-148.), one gets the impression that very many of Neil’s messages are confirmed in other sources, although the author of the work is trying to prove the opposite. A strong supporter of the historical authenticity of the “Tale” is the largest modern specialist on Byzantine-Arab issues, I. Shahid (See Shahid I. Byzantium and the Arabs in the Fifth Century. Washington, 1989. P. 134 f.). The autobiographical nature of Neil’s writing is a completely different matter. Did all this really happen to him and his son Theodulus? It seems impossible to give a definite answer to this question. A “story” is about equally likely to be an autobiographical narrative, pure fiction, or something mixed. We will be able to find out for sure only if, for example, the Life of Nile of Ancyra is suddenly discovered somewhere. In the meantime, everyone has the right to have a personal opinion on this matter, and nothing more. The main goal of the translation was, if possible, to convey to the Russian reader the refined rhetorical finishing of the original, i.e., literary objectives in this case prevailed over historical ones. Some shades still had to be sacrificed. So, although it is very likely that Neil deliberately used alliteration, I did not try to convey them in the Russian text, since I am not completely sure that the effect would have been the same as the author intended. I hope, however, that there will be readers who will appreciate this little masterpiece of late antique prose. Wandering after the raid of the barbarians, I came to Faran (an oasis in the southwest of the Sinai Peninsula (modern Feiran), south of Raifu, inhabited mainly by sedentary Arabs. According to legend, its inhabitants were converted to Christianity in the middle of the 4th century by the monk Moses, a local native.) and heard some people passing by extolling the hermit life and, turning to each other, making it There are many praises that, they say, it is filled with silence and free from all turmoil, and with calmness strengthens the structure of the soul, reflecting on visible things and through them ascending in the path that brings us closer to the knowledge of God, which all sages from time immemorial unanimously consider the highest goal and perfect bliss. And when I, constantly looking at them with eyes full of tears, groaned with the greatest anguish (for I sat completely stunned by the disasters that had happened, and my face still clearly spoke of my misfortune), they, apparently wanting to talk with me, turned off the road and sat down on either side of me. And after waiting a little, they saw that I was silent and groaning, they both persistently and compassionately asked about the reason for my confusion. And since I groaned in response with even greater pain - for the question again awakened the slightly calmed memory to suffering, and the story of the events again made the thought see what had happened as if with one’s own eyes, imprinting in the mind what experience conveyed to the senses - they said: “Have you been depressed by something false that we have said, O elder, and are you sitting and [213] mourning the error in our views, or are you enduring some suffering, akin to what we talked about, and is it what you grieve about, secretly stung by memories? For the sorrow that empties you from within cries out for no small torment, as evidenced by your tears.” Then only the prompting of these men loosened my constrained tongue, and I said: “What, then, what should I answer if the cloud of despondency does not allow me to clearly discern a judgment about the truth? I am of the same opinion as you, and, knowing the benefits of living in the desert, I admire it very much, so this forced me, conquered by an attraction to it, to leave everything - home, homeland, friends, relatives, loved ones, property. But it also destroyed the person dearest to me and left me, as you see, alone, deprived of all consolation, and suffering does not allow me to praise the desert, because the misfortune that happened overcame the passion that possessed me. For when one passion overcomes another, it leaves nothing at all defeated, necessarily wanting to dominate completely and rejecting the other as hostile if it calls for joint existence.” But what nonsense! I began to reason, leaving the cry for my son, and my thoughts, which previously did not allow me to think about anything other than the murder of Theodul, found a distraction. For this image constantly remains with me, picturing in my imagination his death in various ways of killing, now in one, now in another, and it seems to me as if I hear him screaming in pain, and see him falling to the ground from the blow. I imagine in my mind what I would probably see with my own eyes if I were present. Alas, poor child, whether you live or die: oh, bitter slavery, if you escaped death; Oh, grave without burial, if a barbaric sword has struck you. Should I grieve over your slavery, should I cry over your death? After all, if you have become a slave, which probability does not allow you to think (for when this barbarian right hand is not quick to kill, serving a temper that is always thirsty for human blood?), what then becomes of you? Of course, daily beatings, merciless orders, inexorable threats, bestial and bloodthirsty life, hard work that exceeds your strength, guards from which you cannot escape, no hope of freedom, daily fear of death, the sword is [always] nearby: for it is with them that the barbarians are accustomed to measure their annoyance, not being accustomed to beating with a belt or rods, but knowing one punishment for large and small offenses - death, the more Moreover, it is their custom to easily play with someone else’s destruction even without any sin, either in a drunken riot, or obeying a causeless impulse. If you died, where did your body receive the fatal blow? Where did your blood flow from? How did you fight in convulsions on the bloody ground while your unfortunate legs danced their death dance? How did you beg the barbarian who was killing you, wanting to soften his cruelty with pitiful gestures? After all, you did not understand each other’s speech - speech that, giving a request harmonious proportionality, inclines an angry soul to mercy. What kind of place did your corpse take? What beasts have torn your limbs to pieces? What birds have fed on your flesh? What light, rising, saw what was hidden in your womb, contemplating with its own eyes the expelled entrails? What was preserved after wild animal fangs - what was left behind by satiety, or what turned out to be inedible due to its hardness and now lies in the open air, not receiving a proper burial due to desolation? If someone had brought and given me the remains, or had brought them and placed them in front of them, I would have had at least a small consolation in my suffering, speaking to the preserved part of the body as if it were living and sentient, be it bone, flesh or hair. For those who are less unfortunate in the misfortunes that befall them have great delight in grief, and they truly enjoy this second luxury, caring for a long time for their sick loved ones and during this period being satiated with contemplation, sitting next to the dying and listening to their last words, accompanying them in the funeral procession and seeing how they put the last seal on the grave - because all this is farewell and funeral, and the sympathy of friends - brings a lot and considerable consolation to the mourner, alleviating despondency. And how can I mitigate my suffering from this, if I don’t know the image of death, and the appearance of the deceased, what he was like at death, was not captured in the imagination. For the appearances of those whose features were not transmitted to memory by sight are unstable and uncertain, each time being imprinted differently and tormenting the deceived mind with changing images. O unknown troubles, oh unknown misfortune! I don’t know what to mourn, I don’t understand what to grieve about. Should we mourn the dead or the living? About someone captured or killed? About one who endures bitter slavery or about one who endured the pain of slaughter? After all, in captivity he is easily subject to all kinds of torment and incurs punishment on himself, even without wanting it, because the decision is made by the will of his master. O you, who until now shared everything in life with me, but experienced captivity alone - you accompanied me on a long journey, together [214] you tasted the hardships of a foreign land, you were nearby in the hardships of the desert, imitating Isaac by obedience to your father’s will. And how did this last misfortune make you lonely and you alone suffer the misfortunes of captivity? Why did they take pity on me and escape the sword? Why, by the hand of the murderer, was I also not added to the rest of the dead, but received mercy in order to experience even greater troubles, deprived of quick deliverance and having found a long and painful sorrow for you? “And since I see that you sympathize with me,” I said, “and feel the same as the one who suffered (and the attention with which you listen and frequent sighs are evidence of this for me), I will tell you in detail everything that happened to me, without verbosity, if you have time to listen and some need does not call you to your own needs. For narration is difficult for a preoccupied soul, which thinks more about the subject of its troubles than about listening.” They, showing by appearance and voice that they were dissatisfied with the question, said: “And what pastime is preferable than to heal a suffering heart and exhaust the sorrow of a tormented soul? After all, just as a cloud loses its blackness, shedding raindrops, and gradually loses its gloom, getting rid of the watery darkness, so the soul is relieved of despondency when it describes its own misfortunes, as if the burden goes away along with the story of sorrowful events. After all, suffering that is silent about causes the same pain as fluid in an inflamed wound, when pus constantly presses, not finding an outlet through which it could pour out.” So, it seemed to me that what they said was true, and that’s where I began my story. “My friends, two sons were born to me, one, whom I sit here and mourn, and the other, who remained with his mother. And after that I stopped marital intercourse, considering that they would be enough for procreation or for caring for [our] old age. For I reasoned that every rational being should not indulge in pleasures to the point of satiety and not abuse the permission of the law to desecrate nature, but, having served the purpose of the Creator, Who arranged marriage not to quench passion, but to multiply the race, to stop quickly, so that when later the strength fades and the urges fade away in the natural tranquility of old age, not to attribute to themselves the feat of chastity achieved by the compulsion of age, and not conscious zeal. After all, one who has not fought does not erect a trophy, and an athlete cannot boast of victory if the competition was canceled and he was not defeated because no one fought with him. No, the fighter is adorned by reason, which rules over lust in the prime of youth, when it burns, when passions are burning, and which suppresses the urge towards marital intercourse, even legal, and thereby testifies that it has autocratic power. I was drawn by a certain strong lust to those places where I was now destroyed, and my mind was completely inspired by silence, unable to see or think anything other than it. After all, when love takes possession of someone’s soul, it forcibly tears it away from everything, even very significant, and carries it to the object of attraction, but it does not refuse and does not think about work, or effort, or dishonor. For everything zealously serves desire, willingly enduring tyranny and welcoming the yoke of obedience, under voluntary and self-imposed compulsion. And so, since it commanded to set off, and it was impossible to resist such an imperious order, taking the children - and they were still very small - I brought them to their mother and gave one to her, and kept the other with me and informed me of my decision, and with a stern face insisted that I would not allow myself to be convinced. She, who had not previously been accustomed to objecting, and then seeing from my face that I would not accept persuasion, although she could not bear the blow and hold back her tears, nevertheless let [us] go on the road, yielding to necessity rather than consciously approving this matter. For seeing the inflexibility of the decision and thinking about the pain of separation, she, neglecting her own grief, cared about what was pleasing to me, and wanted to be defeated where she could not win even if she wanted. And you know what the separation of those once united by the legal bond of marriage and who have become one body according to the ineffable dispensation of the One Who Bound is like - what pain is caused by a sword cutting the body, the same is the separation of those who have become one flesh. I was amazed at the power of lust when I saw that it had overcome both nature and long-term attachment, and how great it was, I guessed from the fact that it broke the indestructible bonds that usually only death breaks, giving freedom from sorrows through insensibility. For the living, feelings make pain unbearable for the time being, recalling closeness and spiritual [215] inclination, unless the desire for a greater good immediately dulls the severity of the previous one. It was this desire that made me a lover of silence and guided me to the desired desert, and for a long time gave me a wonderful mood, and I enjoyed great peace and, with a fair wind, steered straight to the goal, until it is unknown how and from where a whirlwind flew in and raised this storm, which crushed the peace-bearing vessels of the holy bodies. She crushed, but did not sink, smashed, but did not take away anything from the cargo, for the helmsmen, taking with them all the trade luggage, turned from the sea to the sky, leaving scattered boards for the pirates.” “But what is the reason for the murder? - they asked. – And so those who served God impeccably were handed over to the wicked for destruction, becoming the plaything of a barbarian hand, and the power of providence was inactive, remaining silent during such a tragedy, and did not prevent the raid, although it could have, did not strike the cruel aliens with blindness (See Gen. 19:11.), did not wither the lawless right hands (See 1 Kings 13:4.), raised against the saints, as, according to Scripture, often happened for the sake of the blessed. After all, the Babylonians, who once unrighteously went to war against Hezekiah (See 2 Kings 19:35; Isa. 37:36. In the Bible, however, we are talking about the Assyrians.), returned with nothing, and they could not harm the besieged, and lost many from their own army, when they all went to sleep in full force, and in the morning a very small number were alive, unable to say how one hundred and eighty were killed five thousand, and who did it. For such a beating was the work of one angel in one night in silence, and the equipped and armed dead lay, believed to be asleep, without a wound from the sword, but deprived of souls, truly dead, but without any traces of killing, leaving their comrades to wonder for a long time about what had happened. For each one pushed his neighbor to wake him up, but he was motionless, he called - but he remained silent, examined the body - there were no wounds on it, looked for breath in the nostrils - and the one he was looking for was not there, until the sun, shining in the morning, explained what had happened, showing the signs of death with the color of the dead. And again, the Assyrians, who attacked Elisha (See 2 Kings 6:12 ff.) and sought to kill the saint, and the Sodomites, who approached Lot’s house because of the angels (See Gen. 19:10–11.), were struck with blindness and handed over to the ridicule and playground of those whom they were looking for, if they wanted to do evil to them. After all, some tried to feel for the door, while others walked, not knowing where they were being led, having near what they came for, but as if unable to approach him, like the sick and crippled, carrying useless weapons, as if they had lost either strength or the limbs necessary for battle, because the vision that guided them had either completely died or was sleeping in a deep sleep. And so one unarmed man was followed captive by so many enemies who could easily have been killed in cliffs and abysses, if such had been the intention and design of the guide. And they were saved when, through the care of the prophet, they regained their sight and were able to see the road leading to their homeland. At another time, when the wicked king was angry with the prophet, who denounced lawlessness, and raised his armed right hand against him (See note 2.), the hand with the sword was raised to expose the desire to kill, but remained withered in a raised form, like a statue that cannot take any other position than the one that the master who cast it gave it from the very beginning, so that the body of the prophet would not suffered what the unrighteous hand intended to do in the service of lawless wrath. So how did the dead now die without help, and the will of the murderers easily completed its work, and they did not encounter any obstacle from anywhere? “What is the need now,” I answered, “to talk about Providence? And who is capable of comprehending the judgments of God in order to show the righteousness of the sovereign’s economy in such difficult events? Every human thought exhausts itself in this study, overcome by the boundlessness of understanding, unable to find a reasonable reason for what is happening. After all, many such things have happened before, and the intentions of the evil ones were carried out when justice for the time being kept silent about the reward for insolence and withheld vengeance - of course, because the hour of judgment takes upon itself the exaction of their punishment. For just as Cain, being jealous of Abel, whose piety was attested by God, killed [216] him (See Gen. 4:8), and upset his parents, who had never seen a dead person and did not know at all what death was, and angered God because he dared to kill for the first time; and he reduced the race in the new creation, which had just begun to grow, and did not regret as a brother the one with whom he had a common birth and upbringing, and did not want to preserve it as a consolation in desolation, although he would have had to live alone with his parents on such an expanse of earth - after all, then people were not yet numerous, giving each other consolation with their multitude? And how did Jezebel illegally order the stoning of Naboth, who did not give her possession of the vineyard (See 1 Kings 21:13.)? And how did three hundred and sixty priests fall from one sword of Doik (See 1 Samuel 22:18. According to the Bible, there were 85 killed priests)? Or how, again, in Jerusalem, when certain enemies took possession of it, countless numbers of righteous people were killed and thrown to be devoured by beasts and birds of prey? Mourning them, the hymnist said: The corpses of Your servants were given to the birds of the air to be eaten, the bodies of Your saints to the beasts of the earth; They shed their blood like water around Jerusalem, and there was no one to bury them (Ps. 78:2-3). And how did the hosts of prophets and apostles perish due to the malice of lawless people, sawn to death, stabbed to death, cruelly stoned, not only having not done anything worthy of death, but also having always been the benefactors of their murderers? I'm not even talking about the innocent age of babies, how some under Pharaoh were drowned in river waters, condemned to this death out of fear of the youth who would grow out of them, and others were mercilessly exterminated by the sword under Herod (See Matt. 2:16), having experienced mortal pain before they tasted the pleasures of life, so that the one who was suspected of being a king would not be unnoticed. And the Judge reconciled with all this, allowing the arbitrariness of the vile murderers to be carried out unhindered, for He set the limit of retribution for their deeds on the day of judgment, and until now he has endured for a long time, preserving until then the punishment for breaking the law. But to touch upon these dogmas, as I have already said, now is not the time and beyond my strength; they require a lot of time and skillful language to reconcile them in a manner befitting God’s justice. But I will say what my grief forces me to say - maybe I will feel better, and I will ease the unbearable torment a little. For I cannot bear a memory whose effect I have already seen and experienced. I don’t know how I endured that reminder of which I reject as painful. I am almost disgusted by my eyes, as the cause of those images that I am forced to look at all the time, so that suffering constantly stings me, bitterly depressed at night by dreams, and by thoughts during the day. Because even when I fall asleep, I cannot sleep carefree, like many whom sleepy torpor frees from the worries of the day - even then I am disturbed by a certain vision of what has happened and shows images of those who have just been killed and struggling in agony from a fresh wound, which again renews the pain. It is necessary, however, since the sequence of the story allows it, to first describe the life of the saints living in those places and talk about how the barbarians who attacked them live, so that the content of the story has proper proportionality and nothing is omitted that should reach the attention of inquisitive listeners. After all, keeping silent about what you want to know causes grief (as it is always annoying not to achieve what you want) until the knowledge satisfies desire. So, the named tribe wanders through the desert, stretching from Arabia to the Egyptian Red Sea and the Jordan River, never engaging in either trade or agriculture, but obtaining food exclusively by the sword. For they either hunt desert animals and live by eating their meat, or somehow meet their necessary needs by robbing those passing along the roads where they have settled - and if, due to a lack of both, their supplies are depleted, then they eat domestic animals (that is, racing camels), leading a beast-like and carnivorous life. They slaughter one camel per family or camp (κατα συγγενειφы η συσκηνιας) and, having softened the hardness of the meat over low heat so that it does not yield to too much effort, they tear it with their teeth, and so they feed, one might say, like dogs (κυνικως) not knowing God, neither intelligible nor man-made, but worshiping the morning star (Goddess al-‘Uzza’, also called Kaukabta (star) and Beltit (Mistress).) and sacrificing at her rising what [217] is the best of the booty, when they have something left from a robber raid fit for slaughter. They especially try to bring her boys, distinguished by their beauty and prime age, whom they slaughter at dawn on a pile of stones collected for this purpose. This, friends, torments me greatly and confuses me, as if the appearance of a boy, having something attractive and tempting for their legalized wickedness, would not become useful to the lawless for their plans, and the body of a pure soul would not become a sacrificial offering for the unclean to the murderer-demons, for atonement and purification, as they think, having become accustomed to mercilessly making human sacrifices and not knowing pity for the children they kill, even if they beg them, crying like sirens. If there are no boys, they put a flawless white camel on her knees and dance around her three times. And this circumambulation and the song that they composed in honor of the star are led by either one of the rulers, or one of the venerable old priests, and after the third time, when the crowd has not yet finished singing, but carries the last words of the chant on his tongue, he, drawing his sword, strikes hard on the neck tendon and is the first to quickly taste the blood. And then everyone else runs up with swords, and some cut off a small piece of the skin along with the wool, others grab and cut off whatever is available from the meat, and still others get to the offal and entrails, leaving nothing uneaten from the victim that could appear to the rising sun. For they do not abstain even from bones and marrow, conquering hardness with persistence and overcoming hardness with long effort. This is the law of life and beliefs among the barbarians, and thus they, living in the desert, move from place to place, setting up camps where they can find abundant grass for livestock and plenty of water. Those who lead a monastic life, having chosen a few places in the desert where they can somehow satisfy the needs of the body due to the abundance of water, some have built huts, while others huddle in caves and grottoes, and those few who, through their efforts, can force the barrenness of the desert to produce bread, cultivating small and joyless fields with a small shovel, eat wheat, as much as need forces them to consume for a meager life - and the majority stick to raw vegetables and tree fruits, having loved a simple and unsophisticated table, having long said goodbye to the tricks of cooks and bakers, so as not to spend a lot of time on serving the body, neglecting more necessary occupations, but to honor the Divine with a pure and sober mind, without burdening the mind with feasts of the flesh and not indulging the pleasure of the belly with the steam of stews. For insatiable gluttony has now become so intensified that it forces one to serve lust by sight, smell, and taste, by rubbing juices in, diversifying the kindled pleasure with various smells, colors and qualities. For it is not enough for delicacy hunters to have a difference in taste or the dissimilarity of the smells of dishes, if the diversity of colors in the gravy does not attract and stimulate the appetite, before tasting it treats the vision with a golden, white or more watery hue than ink. After all, in order to please the sense of smell, you should mix the most fragrant aromas into the gravy, and in order for the throat to be pleasant, you need to mix the qualities of sweet and spicy, tart and salty for pleasure. And the sight should not be left without pleasure - for this, safflower and rice, saffron and juice-like nut sauces and many various other dyes in a picturesque mixture form the coloring of the dish, so that from everywhere the master stomach has a generally recognized perfection of cooking, as if trusting the aforementioned senses to experienced judges who are well able to evaluate the sensations under their jurisdiction. But this is not the lifestyle of the above-mentioned people and is not aimed at luxury - after all, they not only abandoned the quality of pleasant things, ridiculing everything that is beyond necessity as vain and useless, but in relation to most of the remaining ones they extend the zeal of their abstinence to quantity, taking as much food as necessary so as not to die against the will of the Creator of Life and not to lose the payment for good labors during life. So, some eat food on Sunday, spending the entire week without food, others divide it in half, having meals twice a week, and others eat every other day, showing with reasonable diligence that they do not need food, but obey the laws of nature, barely inclining to the compulsion of the body and then condescending to its need when they see that the vital force is completely exhausted and can no longer serve the appropriate virtues labors. For everyone is tormented by such zeal for the angelic life that in contentment with little he wants to imitate the absence of needs and strives to overcome the lack of nature with an excess of zeal. The royal coin is not in use among them, since they do not know about buying and selling. For each freely gives to the other what he needs, receiving in return what he himself needs, and they treat each other with vegetables, tree fruits and a small amount of bread, showing [218] signs of love with the help of what is available. After all, love is manifested not in the difference of substance, but in the generosity of spiritual disposition, which clearly expresses the generosity of intention even in small gifts. But even envy, which especially tends to follow success, never had a place there, and the superiority of the more brilliant in good did not prompt the less glorious to envy him, just as the former was not forced by boasting to exalt himself over the other, deceiving him into pride in his achievements. For he who stands higher in the advantages of virtue of his own free will remains modest, attributing everything to the power of the Divine, and not to his own labors, not as a doer of good things, but as an instrument of grace operating in him. And the one who lags behind, perhaps due to physical weakness, humbles himself even against his will, believing that the cause of powerlessness is not natural weakness, but lightness of intention. This is how they, one more modest than the other, and all together - all together, try to have superiority not in conceit, but in a glorious life. After all, for this reason, having left the inhabited world, they live in the desert, showing their accomplishments to God, from Whom workers hope to receive reward for their labors, and not showing their deeds in God to people, whose praises tend to spoil both zeal and reward, weakening the first with recklessness to the point of negligence, and diminishing the second with the deceit of praise. For the one who seeks human glory for his deeds, having received the desired reward, is deprived of the true reward, no longer expecting another, which it would be reasonable to demand instead of what he achieved, having sold tireless labor for it, defeated by human glory and having lost eternal and true glory. They do not live close to each other, but their dwellings are located at a considerable distance from one another, about twenty stages or more, not because of misanthropy and bestiality - is this conceivable given their attitude towards each other described above? - but out of a desire, in great peace, to cultivate morals towards what pleases God, and an effort to continuously communicate with God, which in crowds and turmoil is either difficult or impossible, because anxiety from neighbors distracts the thought from intense concentration and makes it revolve around inappropriate objects, since from long practice it has learned to be carried away by the pleasant rather than the useful. On Sundays, they go to a meeting in church and come together for weekly communication with each other, so that the complete separation does not interrupt over time the connection of like-mindedness, little by little giving rise to oblivion of the duty of justice towards each other. After all, deliberate solitude usually leads to savagery of temperament, a long habit of weaning one off from loving involvement and sociability. Therefore, they partake of the Divine Mysteries and treat each other to exercise in proper speech, and anoint each other with moral instructions. After all, it is precisely these that a virtuous life needs most of all for the struggle, revealing the secret machinations of the enemy, so that none of those ignorant of the methods of combat will be caught by them. For those who do not have a material basis for their actions, sin remains in idleness in the sense of action, and the whole battle takes place in the mind, where death occurs easily and implicitly for those who see the external, without witnesses, arising from decisions of moral choice. Therefore, those experienced in wrestling, educating those who are inexperienced and have just begun competitions, advise contrasting abstinence with the passion of gluttony. For she throws arrows into the soul, drawing the furious sting of fornication, and tests the strength of those still competing, whether they still stand on the platform, firmly resting their shins, or whether they are agile in quickly intercepting the enemy. After all, he who gives in to the pleasure of food turns out to be an easy prey for hypogastric passions, defeat in small things foreshadows a greater fall. And so those who are busy in childhood competitions are admonished by those who are older and have gained experience in fighting for a long time in asceticism and know well how to cope with such tricks of the enemy. The more perfect forbid themselves and each other vanity and pride, advising them to beware of them, like pitfalls near the harbor, because it is they, after the hardships of sailing and battles with the waves, that plunge those who have not been shipwrecked among the turmoil of passions and storms of unclean thoughts into the last disastrous danger. For just as those caught in a sea storm, fearing imminent dangers, are forced to stay awake and sober due to frequent waves and menacing winds, and near the harbor sometimes in a calm environment they stumble upon hidden shoals, relaxing in carefree thoughts, and at the very entrance to the port they immediately throw out all the cargo that was not lost among the sea storms - they never bowed to the attack of temptations, but passed them without damage thanks to Asceticism and perseverance after a victory often rely on acquired good skill or, out of foolishness, look with some arrogance at those who are apparently more careless, like fighters who, just before the crown and reward, suffer [219] a difficult and irreparable fall, or sailors who throw away their cargo after making a long and terrible voyage, untimely and in one moment losing little by little and with difficulty accumulated wealth, which, in addition to losses, awaits reproaches of frivolity. For vanity, perhaps, deprives one of payment for what has been done and makes the work useless for workers, and pride, along with damage, also carries the great danger of self-conceit, humiliating God, the Helper in good deeds, and attributing to oneself the power of accomplishments. Therefore, the prophet says about the first that he who earns wages earns for a wallet with holes (Hag. 1:6), so that as soon as it is put in, it falls out and does not linger in the wallet, but quickly spills out past the strings (Pun - αποδεσμος here “purse” and δεσμος - “string.”), because the hole through which falls out, wider than the one in which they put it. After all, this is vanity - in it, gain is accompanied by loss, since at the same time as the action, what is done is nullified due to the bad direction of the mind. And the Book of Proverbs speaks on a different matter: “God opposes the proud” (Prov. 3:34), contrasting the Humiliated with the Humiliated as an enemy and ill-wisher. Therefore, reflecting on the inhabitants of that desert, Moses and Elijah, they practice the modesty characteristic of those in whose land they live, and consider it fair to imitate their virtue. For Moses was not moved to arrogance by the greatness of his power, and Elijah was not moved to the point of madness by the miracle of the sacrifice (See 1 Kings 18:36 ff.), but both of them always and at all times maintained the same state, without changing their way of thinking following the change in circumstances. In this state, Moses, avoiding the snares of the Egyptians and tending Jethro’s sheep, became a spectator of that wondrous vision when the wood of the bush appeared to him stronger than the all-consuming fire, and the foliage blossomed in the midst of the flames (See Ex. 3:2.). Later, leading the people on the return journey, he became a lawgiver on this mountain (See Ex. 20:1ff.) for the Jewish, and now for every tribe, because grace through natural kinship passed on to the entire race. For the laws of life shone forth, placed on a candlestick, despite the fact that the letters were once hidden under a vessel before clarification came. And Elijah came here, fleeing from Jezebel, and, falling asleep on this land, the next morning he found a baked cake and a jug of water (1 Kings 19:6), and settled in this cave, clothing his body in a mantle, the ancient clothing of the forefathers, and saw God here in the quiet wind (1 Kings 19:12), and heard a voice announcing laws. And here is the first and last evidence of the steadfastness and patience of these men: they live their whole lives in that very desert, only passing through which the Israelites grumbled, eating ready-made divine (Literally “ambrosial”) food from heaven and scolding such a table. They could not withstand the forty-day absence of their leader and were unable to properly manage the autocracy of freedom, but quickly fell away, abusing freedom for wickedness (See Ex. 24:18; 32:1ff.), - and these all the time philosophize in solitude, lacking what is necessary, being themselves teachers of piety. But, being in such a disposition and thus serving the Divine, suddenly, like an unexpected storm, a barbarian horde flew from somewhere, and early in the morning, immediately after the end of the sacred chants, the godly lawless attacked. It happened to me and my son to be there, for I had descended from the Holy Mountain to visit the saints at the bush, as I had long been in the habit of doing. And rushing in like mad dogs, grabbing and screaming inarticulately, they collected what was prepared for winter food (for this purpose they dry and save those edible tree fruits that can be stored), and they forced us to carry them, took us out of the church and, having taken off our rags, lined us up naked in a row to kill our elders. Then, standing around, they pulled out their swords in a rage, moving their burning eyes around and, first ordering the priest of the holy place to stretch out his neck, they did not strike both at once (because there were two standing near him), but one after the other, from both sides, they slashed him on the back with swords. But he did not cry out in pain and [220] did not turn his face, did not show a trace of this torment, but only crossed himself and whispered with his lips: “Blessed is the Lord.” And one blow struck from the back to the cheek, cutting the ear, and the other from the shoulder reached the chest. And so the blessed one, swaying slightly, fell in a splendid pose, not revealing anything ugly either from the murder or from the nakedness, but a certain grace bloomed in his body, hiding the ugliness of nudity. And the saint almost predicted this the night before in both word and deed, treating those present at the dinner to more than usual and saying: “Who knows if we will all gather together again before death for refreshments and meals?” Then they took and killed the old man who lived with him, who was also old and greatly exhausted by the labors of asceticism, and the boy who was still serving them (Possible translation: “servant.”) in the following way. One of the barbarians ordered him to collect some scattered fruits, and he, to please the orderer, sat down with zeal, stretching out his hem with his hands and picking up what was lying, showing, of course, his efforts to please him, as capable of work, thinking with this to buy life if he turns out to be diligent. But nothing helped or softened the barbaric ferocity, far from reasonable considerations, to the humanity of thoughts. For the other, standing behind him, began to secretly remove the sword from its sheath, and he, either hearing the sword being pulled out, or suspecting death, as if frightened by the noise, slightly turned his face, distraught with horror, back, and the one standing next to him began to frighten him with a barbaric cry and grimaces, and after that, resting the sword between the collarbones, with great force he drove it vertically from the liver muscles (ηπατικου κρεμαστηρος, i.e. muscles on which the liver is supported.) into the sternum, and he, before the weapon was pulled out, collapsed dead, either having died earlier from fear, or because of the crushing blow, not having time to realize death, which quickly removed the soul from the vessels of the body and instantly freed it from the shackles from which it had difficulty emerging, bound by strong plexuses. And for the rest of us, I don’t know for what reasons, they drove us away, gesturing to allow us to escape, while they still held bloody swords in their hands. And some ran through the crevices, hastening to reach the mountain, for they do not approach it, thinking that God once stood on it and spoke to them, and I froze, numb in hopeless bewilderment, and connected in my gut with the boy, could not leave and did not want salvation, bound by the bonds of nature, until the boy, making signs with his eyes for me to leave, with difficulty persuaded me to leave. And my legs walked forward, and behind them, incomprehensibly how, my whole body moved, but my heart did not want to leave, often forcing my face to turn towards the boy, unable to concentrate on the direction of my gaze, and was busy walking, but pitifully turned back. So, I moved towards the mountain, following those in front, and, looking from there, I saw how they were leading away the unfortunate youth, who himself did not freely look around, but hid from those who were taking him away a secret appeal to me. For such is the connection of nature - it is not dissolved by bodily separation, but is strengthened even more. After all, when the soul does not have an object of desire nearby, it becomes even more inflamed, leading the memory to it and constantly occupying it entirely, not having anything available that could satisfy the desire. And what and how great the torment of those separated in this way is, those who have endured it know from experience, and those who have not experienced it, let them learn from the example of dumb creatures who are consumed by the natural and spontaneous power of compassion of cubs for mothers and mothers for cubs, which, during separation, exposes with many evidence signs of love in obvious suffering. After all, the cow being taken away moos often and mournfully, constantly looking back at the weaned calf and with the expression of her eyes screaming about great torment. For since nature had no other part of the body of the dumb to express the passion that possessed them, she placed evidence of grief in the eyes alone, as if making them cry out in dejection about a state that could not be announced in any other way. [The calf], with difficulty being torn off and resisting the forcible removal, then resorts to the udder, as if to a sacred refuge, and, since it cannot with its hands, holds on to it with its mouth, then rushes in circles around its mother, crying out in disorderly running about trouble, because it is deprived of a word capable of crying about suffering. Having found myself at the top of the mountain, I don’t know how - for the mind did not accompany the body, following the one being led away and reflecting on his misfortune - and no longer seeing the son, who had disappeared from view due to the distance and was now probably in despair (The Greek text is not entirely clear: και τουτου αμηχανουντος λοιπον, ως εικος. I translate the pronoun τουτου as referring to Theodulus.), I turned my speech to God, both pitying the captive son, and mourning the murdered saints: “O blessed and thrice-blessed ones,” I said, “Where are your labors of abstinence now?” Where is the effort of resilience? Is this the crown you have received for your long struggle? Did you expect such a reward for your blessed asceticism? Is not the path of righteousness in vain? Are the efforts of virtue not in vain? Because Divine providence left you without help when you were to be killed and justice did not resist the murderers, but the lawless right hand took control of the bodies of the saints, and wickedness boasts of its victory over piety, boasting, of course, before the truth as if it had been defeated. Why didn't the bush light the ancient flame? Why didn’t she incinerate the visiting villains with fire? And why didn’t the earth, when it parted, accept them, as at another time it swallowed up tents and families, the entire assembly of Korah? And why were the terrible horrors of Mount Sinai left alone, without striking the wicked with the sound of thunder and countless flashes of lightning?” But the power of vengeance was inactive, without punishing the criminals with unprecedented blows and thunder strikes and without delivering the victims of the crime with a powerful hand, so that they too would experience a miracle, having learned the incredible power of irresistible force. But the pious fell without help at the very bush and Mount of the Law, like dumb [242] sacrificial animals. Where was the power that drowned the Egyptians and made the abyss their grave? And where is she who struck the foreigners who fought against Israel with hail stones, and brought victory to her people without labor and without blood, and again, at another time, when they attacked the Holy Land, sent them into a frenzy and forced them to fight among themselves, not knowing in darkness that they were killing each other, and not recognizing their comrades being killed? Where did [this power] hide its intercession without protecting the offended? But she curbed the wild fury of lions and the irresistible power of fire, honoring virtuous living and loudly announcing the piety of the youths - so how did she make the virtue of these people doubtful, leaving them deprived of all help and allowing them to be considered unworthy of care? But this is said by despondency and sorrow, which even forces those who try to think sensibly in misfortunes to blaspheme, and one can excuse the passion that has taken possession of the mourner and convinces him to say many things even against his will, suppressed, perhaps, by the enormity of misfortunes, because help often left the righteous, giving them over to the tyrants to suffer in various tortures and unholy execution, so that the tested courage of the fighters and the radiant power of faith shone forth, not losing its boldness even to death, but in suffering conquering all the fury of the tormentors. Since those who remained did not want to leave the desert, preferring death to indifferent (That is, not distinguishing between good and evil (αδιαφορου).) city life, so those killed decided to die better than endure the evil reigning in the universe, because they knew that mental death is worse than physical death and that to fall in sin is more dangerous than from the sword, since the second brings short and temporary pain, and the first - long and constant punishment. When the barbarians, having killed and robbed many others in the desert, retreated to a fair distance, and the night already made it possible to leave, we went down and began burying the bodies, and found two who had long since died, and one saint still breathing and somehow able to speak. So, sitting down next to him, we spent the whole night mourning what had happened, and the elder admonished us not to be surprised by such temptations and said: “After all, it is Satan’s custom to ask God for those who are tempted. How many of Job’s loved ones did he kill, some by fire, others by the sword, others by the fall of the house. But don’t let these events, he said, confuse you. For the Organizer of the competition knows with what purpose he gives the fighters to the enemy, laying down for those who gratefully accept the blows, glorious rewards and prizes, such as those revealed by the great Job, who received doubly everything that seemed lost, or rather, much more, and incomparably superior. For what eye has not seen, and ear has not heard, and has not entered into the heart of man, this is what God has prepared (1 Cor. 2:9) who labored for Him in contests of piety, above both sensation and intellect. Because it was fitting for the great-gifted God to surpass the labors with reward and to outshine the competition with crowns, and to give the ascetics what they did not hope and did not expect to receive, in order to pay the due reward, and to make grace out of the reward because of the superior honor.” So he spoke and greeted those present with kisses while he had the strength to utter words and move his tongue. Then, after his death, we interred him with tears along with the others and managed to get to you while the darkness still made our arrival unnoticed. Of those killed, two were named Paul and John, and the presbyter was Theodulus. And they died, having acquired perfection, on the eighth day after Epiphany, that is, the fourteenth day of January. For the reverent, wanting to join in the memory of the saints, always try to find out both the day and the names. Others were killed many years before, and their commemoration is also performed on this day because of the distance of the journey and the large number of people gathered” (There is a story by a certain Ammonius about these earlier murders of monks by Bedouins in Sinai and Raifa.). While we were still saying this, news came that someone had escaped from the [barbarian] camp, and after a short time he arrived to us, not yet erasing the traces of fear from his face and unable to calm his emotional excitement, and, moreover, breathing heavily from a long run, in anxiety and confusion, as if [243] his pursuers were close and were already catching up with him. Then, when asked how he escaped, he answered: “In conversations at dinner, they promised in the morning to sacrifice me and your son to the star and erected an altar and laid firewood, and we did not know why. And this was told to me by one of my fellow captives, who managed to secretly hear their speech (What is meant here is not entirely clear: perhaps this captive knew the language of the barbarians and therefore could understand what they were saying. However, from what follows it seems to follow that there were no language problems between the barbarians and their victims (which would be quite natural if both of them spoke Arabic).). I let [the boy] know about the intentions of the barbarians, and said that if we do not flee, in the morning the sun will not shine alive for us and we will no longer see rays of light with these eyes. And he, fearing to be captured, remained, answering that he would not escape the will of God, wherever he was, even hiding in secret places. But when I saw in the darkness that everyone was overcome by sleep - after all, they were also very intoxicated - I first crawled, crouching to the ground, so that even if someone was awake, he would not detect me by the outlines of my towering body, and then, moving a little away from the camp, I ran, keeping the direction here and quickly rushing on the wings of fear. I reasoned that either I would escape the murder they had planned by fleeing, or, if captured, I would not suffer anything beyond my predetermined death, and in general, I preferred the uncertainty of hope to certain evil. For from the danger that could not be avoided by remaining, it was natural to escape by entrusting salvation to the help of the legs. After all, I know that they helped many and many times more than thousands of defenders, because the legs take care of their own salvation better than others, considering everything that happens to be common to the whole body. And so, I was not deceived in my intention, but I was saved thanks to what I rely on immediately after God, and I came to you, without suffering, as you see, any evil. The fear of the ferocity of the barbarians is still in my eyes, I am stunned by their lawless deeds and filled with horror at what they dared to do. For, having seized my master in the desert (i.e., the Faran adviser Magadon - see below.) together with the general, when they, having finished public affairs, were returning to you, they took them to themselves with all their property, and the general, who resisted, was chopped into pieces along with his servants, and mine, with his son (and he was, as you know, a very young boy), who submitted to them, they took away with them. Since the sun was already approaching the horizon, they camped where evening found them, and, having prepared a rich feast from the plunder from us, they took him and the boy as table companions, telling them to be calm and not to be afraid of anything at all: he, they say, would return home safe and sound - so they deceived - along with his son, because the rest were enough to ransom two souls. And a little later they seemed to begin to fulfill the promise, ordering that they should come to them, carrying with them water and bread for food, for the sake of the credibility of the trick, so that the hope of life from the provisions would give credibility to the deception, and the hypocrisy would seem to be a real concern, and the barbarous cunning would not arouse any suspicion of skillful malice. And along with them they sent two already matured young men as companions, as if for safety on the way, who were secretly instructed, taking them a short distance from the camp, to kill them. So, the guides, having attacked them in the manner described above, stab the boy before his father, so that he would suffer doubly, both seeing the murder and experiencing death. And immediately they finished him off with many blows, moaning with a loud voice about their treachery and deception - for we heard how one sobbed pitifully, and the other screamed in pain and with each blow let out a painful cry, allowing us to judge by the sound of the wounds inflicted. So, he, deceived by good promises, tasted pitiful death. For he should have guessed from the misfortunes of others about his own, thanks to which it was no longer possible to avoid death, but it would have been possible to endure it, long expected, in a more tolerable manner - after all, an unexpected misfortune, having arrived, necessarily leads to confusion, and an expected one, having found the mind ready to experience it, makes the misfortune easier, since it has already been considered many times in thoughts and its arrival did not surprise the prepared. The fact is that in the evening, at dinner, at which they honored him with toasts, they wanted to play their usual and favorite game - the upcoming entertainment consisted of killing and slaughtering a man - and they sent one of his servants to drink (and they killed the other before). He accepted the same force under duress, because his thirst died out of fear even before his body, but still, being frightened, he accepted it. For when he drank, the compulsion was obvious, betraying involuntary gurgling, because his lips did not calmly send the drink down his throat, but his swallowing muscles, as if deadened and not pushing through as [244] usually, the stagnant and not passing drink, with difficulty sent what had accumulated between his jaws into the larynx, as if into a steep gorge, with loud sounds of sips. Then they sent the young man to kill him - for they entrust them with murder, teaching them to be ferocious from childhood. And he, rejoicing, went to such a cruel deed, laughing, showing pleasure from what he was doing, and, approaching the lying person, first hit the cervical vertebrae, causing a small cut due to the hardness of the bones. Then, drawing his sword near his mouth, from there he pierced him from one side to the other, and, striking again at the first wound, he returned, dancing and shaking his sword in the air. The same one twitched in pain for a long time and wriggled in the blood with groans, and in the end curled up, bent his head to his stomach, pulled his legs there, and, as if wanting to rise in this position, rolled onto the hot coals lying nearby. And, apparently, feeling even greater pain from the fire, he was forced again, like a fish, to jerk his arms and legs even more strongly, constantly raising the burned parts of his body upward. But being no longer able to help himself, because the strength flowed out of him along with the blood, he died, melting away, at the stake, punished simultaneously with two torments, from the sword and fire. The very next day after this drama, when we were traveling, as in the desert, not in a direct way, but wandering, forced to move here and there among the rough terrain, skirting steep cliffs and crossing untrodden and impassable ravines, they saw from a great distance a place where some grass grew, and because of the greenery, they considered it convenient for parking, or they judged that someone from monastics, directed the movement there, directing the passage of pack animals as if from the open sea to the harbor. When they arrived, they found that the place was no worse than their assumptions and did not deceive hopes with a false impression, because there was an abundance of water, with its purity pleasing the eyes even before the taste, and in the mouth with the pleasantness of the taste revealing the pleasure of sight as insignificant, there was also grass suitable for grazing animals. So, having removed the luggage from the camels, they released them to graze in the wild, and they themselves ran to the water and began to drink, splash, and wash themselves, simply not knowing how to take advantage of the abundance of water. Dancing near it and praising the source, they saw at the foot of the mountain a certain trace of a hut, and they all ran to it in one breath, competing to get ahead of each other, and, approaching, surrounded the cave. For such was this dwelling, surrounded at the entrance with a few stones, so that the animals would not have easy access to it because of the openness. Then, running in there one at a time - because there was no more room - they brought out the husband, respectable in both appearance and disposition, and dragged him along, not embarrassed, not pale. And placing him on some rock, they killed him with stones (because they had no swords), laughing and chanting. Then, having gone a short distance from there, they seized another young man, pale, emaciated and bearing on his face the signs of their way of life, and they also finished him off with a sword, and he uttered exclamations of gratitude and expressed gratitude to them for taking his life while he adhered to virtue. For he said that he was quite afraid of the uncertainty of the end, lest a stumbling block of will or some external reason break the firmness of his intention, convincing or forcing him to think something other than the vows given to God. We didn’t go far from there, and then a certain green place appeared - and the growing trees gave it this appearance - and the barbarians again ran towards it, competing in the speed of their feet. As they approached, they found a small house and in it a teenager, whose courage and nobility the barbarians themselves marveled at. For he did not agree to show the hidden cells and thereby be saved, which was promised to him if he showed, and did not want to either leave the hut or take off his tunic, saying that betraying those who could hide was treason, and to obey any kind of coercion at all was cowardice and baseness. “After all, those who practice greatness of soul,” he said, “are not allowed to give in to fear, even if it seems that the threat carries considerable danger. For habit becomes the road to greater things, and cowardice, once learning to take over, commands one to neglect great blessings and teaches one to betray piety itself if the fear of misfortune finds the will already fallen due to cowardice. After all, if now I easily throw away the independence and autocracy of thought, fearing imminent death, unless I am faced with torture and threatened with torture, will I not go over to the side of wickedness, accustomed to prefer the painless to the useful? Therefore, despairing of achieving what you expect, do not hesitate to do what you want, because I will not indicate the places where the God-loving people live, although I know them, and I will not go out the door at your order, and I will not take off the himation, so that, while I am still conscious and in control of my choice, someone will not see me naked and see a body hitherto invisible to my own eyes. After death, let everyone do whatever he wants to the insensitive, for this is not a reproach to the will as defeated, but an involuntary enduring of insensibility, when the thought capable and obliged to resist is no longer [245] absent. For the soulless, of course, is insensitive, and the insensitive is not involved in passion, but what is not involved in passion is, by general recognition, free from blame for what it suffers, equally deprived of the power to endure and not to endure. Therefore, I will die inside and in clothes, as I please, and will not do anything against my will, by force, like a slave - I will be killed on the same platform where I competed, and this hut, which has long received the sweat of virtue, and now the blood of valor, will be my grave.” The villains, unable to bear his bold speech and enraged by the courage of his spirit, seemed to go berserk and kill him with as many blows as his body could bear. For each, wanting to take out his anger on him, did not consider the blades of the previous ones sufficient retribution if he himself, plunging the sword, did not quench his indignation with his own hands. Therefore, among them there were more of those who struck this noble man dead than alive, and only then did they leave, burning with anger, because the tortured body was not enough for them for a more severe punishment. After him, we met three travelers in the desert, who calmed down their still inflamed rage a little, satisfying the remnants of the rage into which he had led them. For just as wild animals or hunting dogs, if the prey just appears and runs away, become irritated by failure and become even more furious and pursue what they catch again with greater zeal, compensating for their former idleness with secondary reliability, so these vile killers ran to the people who appeared and, drawing their swords even before approaching, killed them immediately as soon as they got there, attacking them with such the ferocity with which they would attack the one who had angered them if they captured him again. And not having yet sheathed their swords, but holding them naked in their hands and stained with hot and steaming blood, they saw two cells (As can be seen from the context, the word μοναστηριον in the Nile means not “monastery”, but “hermit’s dwelling.”) in the place where they passed, located not directly on the road, but on the side on both sides, at a distance of thirty furlongs from each other. friend and fifteen - from the place where we were, both at an equal distance, like points on a circle from the center of the circle. So, dividing, they went with half each, leaving the plunder in place along with the beasts of burden. And in the southern cell I don’t know who was killed and how, but the one who lived to the north, when he, sensing our approach by the sound of arrows in his quivers due to his fast running, took off running, they pulled their bows and pierced them with many arrows. Then, when he fell face down, they approached him and did not leave him to die from the wounds he had already received, which were enough for this, but he was still breathing and near death, they turned him over on his back and cut him open from the groin to the ribs, and the entrails that fell out of the cut, hanging on his sides on both sides, began to poke with spears until they tore them to pieces before leaving. After these things, as I said before, I ran away, but I don’t know what happened to your son, who stayed behind. I left him alive, but not with good hope about his life because of whispers about [his impending] death.” So what did I endure in my soul (if I still had a soul), hearing this and clearly remembering the night vision - for in a dream I read a letter recently handed to me by someone I knew, and on the outside of the scroll was written: “After God, to my lord and father, blessed Theodulus” (The epithet “blessed” indicates the deceased.)? My heart was torn, my insides were torn, my strength was in paralysis, in a word, I melted away with all my limbs, having heard the news, consistent with the dream and no longer leaving any doubt or uncertainty in the assumption of death, the reliability of which was confirmed by two testimonies. And as if deafened by the sudden roar of colliding clouds, I no longer cried or moaned, but looked at him intently, without blinking, with a frozen gaze. For the power that has governed the ages has, of course, become numb within me and inactive, leaving dead the senses guided by the art of nature. After all, such excessive grief petrifies people and makes them more insensitive than stones, and retains the tearful moisture below, preventing it from passing to the eyes with the density of their breath. And by Divine providence, one of the women who was there, whose son was the murdered youth (for those who managed to hide had already notified the dead), with difficulty brought me out of this petrification. For when she learned that her son had been hacked to death, courageously resisting the murderers, she deed showed her kinship with him, appearing as his truly genuine mother. For having put on festive clothes and changing her entire appearance to a more solemn one, she stretched out her hands to heaven, sending up the following words to the Savior God: “I entrusted my son to you, Master, and he is saved from me, both now and forever; She entrusted the boy to you, and he was truly preserved safe and sound. After all, I do not think about the fact that he died or [246] how he ended his life, but I think about the fact that he escaped all sinful experience; not that his body was wounded and that he met a bitter death, but that he brought there a pure and immaculate soul and betrayed his spirit into Your hands unsullied. I count rewards by wounds and measure crowns by blows: let your body contain more, so that you may receive a greater reward. From there give me the price for womb-bearing, from there bring me the reward for childbirth, from there send down the price of breastfeeding. Share with me the reward for your labors - for we both worked together. You fought, and I loved the wounds received in the struggle; You have struggled, and I rejoice in the struggle with you; you resisted barbarian wrath, and I fought against the tyranny of nature; you despised death, and I overcame pity; You patiently endured the pain of slaughter, and I withstand the torture of my insides being torn apart. Mine is equal to yours and not inferior to it: you win by the severity of the pain, and I have the advantage of the length of time. After all, your death, although very painful, was short-lived, and I endure long pain, although I endure it steadfastly, philosophizing. I am not insensitive to suffering, but I overcome pain with effort. I suffer because the bonds of my womb are falling apart, and I am tormented in the womb, but with a prudent thought I restrain the suffering that arises from there. For what is the use of mad crying if the one who has left never returns? Therefore, I did not imitate carnal mothers who unmanly grieve at such misfortunes, I did not follow the example of physical parents who consider this life to be the only one, who, not knowing the future life, consider separation from their loved ones in the present to be terrible and difficult. I did not tear my tunic and did not beat my bare chest with my hands, did not tear my hair, did not scratch my face with my nails, confident that you live an immaculate life with God and that soon I will have a breadwinner there in my old age, when my meager vessel is broken in some way. Blessed am I among mothers, having presented such an ascetic to God, blessed and tri-blessed. For now I truly dare to boast, now that you have gone, about whom I was afraid, lest envy would do me something bad through you, planning a threat to your soul. But go, child, go on your way, go. For I will not give up primacy to the forefather Abraham in litigation with him, I will not want to have second place after him, because he, having received the order, with zeal and dispassionately offered his son to God as a sacrificial animal (cf. Gen. 22:1ff.). After all, it is not clear whether he would have remained impassive even after the sacrifice, because many, while maintaining a steadfast spirit in action, after completing it, bowed to sadness, exposing their natural weakness with repentance. Now I take courage and change sorrowful despondency into joy, while time, consuming others, shows them defeated by suffering, its duration gradually eroding the supports of their fortitude, while memory, renewing the ulcer, gives the thought leisure to think freely about the painfulness of suffering. For it is difficult and very difficult to maintain a correct judgment unyielding for a long time, because the power of thought easily inclines to the opposite mood. I once mourned widowhood and moaned, helpless, about the lost care of your father - but now why shed tears, why weep, since I have such a representative before God, who can protect me from there in misfortunes, and give my gray hairs even more generous care in old age, powerfully drawing from eternal mercies and pouring out more abundantly than from the royal treasuries over which you were in charge during your lifetime? For in those, what is spent decreases, since what is accumulated in them is limited by measure, but among the first, the raining ones, there will never be a lack of exuded talents.” Because of this, I, so pitifully relaxed by the suffering of my son, lowered my head and, finding myself weaker in courage than the woman, was ashamed of those present, admired her, and mocked myself, taking the words of the noble woman as a slap in the face and condemning her prudence for my madness. For, considering it fair to blame God for what I suffered, I then realized my sin when I learned from the example of a woman that one can endure the onslaught of any misfortune. After all, the conscience, which has fallen into despondency due to visible unbearability, is often awakened to joy by the sobriety of the victim, having learned not to give in to suffering easily from someone who has successfully coped with it. So, the council of the inhabitants of Paran, having heard the news, decided not to remain silent about the daring crime, but to announce it to the king of the barbarians. And they sent to him two so-called walkers, complaining about the violation of the negotiated truce. And such services are performed by young men who will soon begin to grow beards, a little older than the ephebes, who carry nothing with them except a bow and arrow, a javelin and flint. For they use this to survive on the road, one for hunting, and the other for making a fire for roasting, because they have a great abundance of firewood and brushwood in any place, since no one cuts down what grows in the desert. [247] And while they were making this journey, we went out to collect the bodies, and when we arrived, we discovered that the five-day-old dead had not undergone anything that is natural for the many-day-old dead to endure, they did not stink, did not become moist, and were not touched by the birds of prey or wild animals that are in the habit of spoiling corpses. And Magadon’s servant also said that they lay there for so long - that was the name of the adviser killed by the barbarians. There were these in Bethrambia - Proclus, in Gath - Hypatius, in the monastery of Salail - Isaac; Macarius and Mark, killed outside in the desert, Benjamin in outer Elim, Eusebius in Thola and Elijah in Aza - and of the last two, we found the second with many wounds, but still alive, and, having brought him, they put him in a cell, and we ourselves began to bury the bodies of the rest. Returning again to him, we no longer found him alive, but found him lying dead by a bowl of water: apparently, feeling thirsty due to inflammation of his wounds, he, having drunk, fell face down on his knees, and in this position his soul left him, having died. So, having buried him like the others, we went out to find out what the leader of the barbarians answered. And as soon as we entered Paran, messengers arrived, delivering a message from him confirming peace and calling on the victims, especially the relatives of the still living captives, to come to him. If someone wanted retribution for those killed, he said that he was ready to hand over the perpetrators for punishment, and agreed to return all the loot to the robbed. For, as he wrote, he did not want to violate the terms of the peace, valuing the treaty with them because of the benefits received from them. After all, communication with them brings considerable profit to the barbarians, who find in their well-being help in the needs of their poverty. Therefore, having prepared gifts and appointed ambassadors to renew the broken peace, they sent them and us the next day, so that we, they say, would go with good hope. On the eighth day of our journey - for the whole journey to it took twelve days - we began to experience a lack of water, and there was a great need to quench our thirst, and we were already expecting death, which always lurks in shortages. The experts in those places said that somewhere nearby there was a source, and this inspired the sufferers, who overcame the present misfortune with hope for the future. For dreaming hope nourishes no worse than truth, comforting complete despair with expectation and raising fallen strength with its own hand. Therefore, many fled, trying to get to the sought-after majority and wanting to taste to their hearts' content what they needed, and each headed in his own direction, where the hope of success led each, and, looking around from afar, they searched with a gaze, exploring what was hidden with the help of their eyes, like lamps. I also walked, following at a pace those running in front, as perhaps someone else would say, not keeping up with the stronger ones due to lack of strength due to senile weakness, and as I will say, not wanting to humiliate the dignity of my condition by disorderly running - for so far I was no worse than before able to cope with the need, despite the fact that it can move the body beyond its strength, pushing the aspiration towards the goal even in an unusual way. The source lay along the direction of my movement, but was hidden behind a hill located in the gap - for I, each time leaving those who diverged on either side, walked in the middle, assuming that no matter from which side they found what I was looking for, I would not be at a great distance from it. When I slightly looked out from behind the hill, having overcome its top, I was the first to see both the source and the barbarians scattered around it, and, having stumbled upon merciless enemies, I was not embarrassed by surprise and was not overcome by great fear, but, being between fear and joy, I consoled myself in such a misadventure and said that either I would find their son and would willingly be in slavery with him, enjoying the sight of my beloved and softening the hardships of slavery with sweet contemplation, or I will be killed, and the painful sorrow will end. And they jumped up and ran towards me in a crowd, and, catching me while I stood, as if stunned, in thought, they dragged me mercilessly. Those who went for water with me, seeing them, but not yet noticed by them, turned around and silently set off back, secretly and quickly, falling on their faces and, like reptiles, crawling to hide their flight. And I, although I was tormented, dragged, and all sorts of cruelties were committed, I did not pay attention to it and, torn apart, did not even feel what was happening, but my mind was entirely occupied with the search for the boy, and I looked for him, looking around with wandering eyes, which often resemble, and do not truly give external images the appearance of what you are thinking about. For the mind in the imagination seems to see with its eyes what is imprinted in its imagination, and because of the thirst to see it, it gives everything the desired appearance. A little time passed while this was happening, and then warriors from our detachment arrived and, appearing from above the hill, caused great confusion among the barbarians. For when they announced their presence with a war cry, no one remained in place, but every piece of land, long before teeming with bodies, immediately turned out to be empty. For everyone, hastening to escape, took to flight, unable to take anything with them, and hurried to flee, as if pursued by panic terror. For they were so overcome by fear of what they saw - after [248] such fearlessness that they did not even look back at their pursuers, fearing that they would be overtaken, but every time, having someone behind them, they pulled out their swords, and struck some, and killed many, mistaking their own confusion for the presence of warriors, until the distance to which they fled allowed them to finally catch their breath, allowing them to look around and see their pursuers. After all, fear makes you consider the danger more formidable and encourages you to imagine more than what actually exists, since fear exaggerates what is happening. So, having arrived there, the soldiers found what the fugitives had left behind and made great fun out of what they had prepared, spending the rest of the day there. Having traveled four more days, we came to the camp, and the ambassadors, whom we reported, were invited to a conversation with Haman - this was the name of the king of the barbarians - and, having presented gifts, received a favorable response, took a tent next to him and tasted abundant hospitality, until a careful search revealed the loot of the raid. And they finished it in a short time, and my heart was beating fast, and I waited with bated breath for news. And every noise, no matter who made it, seemed to whisper the rumor of who I was striving for, and the ears were sensitive to the sounds of voices, and the mind listened to them, like messengers, waiting to see if they would announce the life or death of the boy. For he who is unable to find out about the object of his aspirations and is torn by doubts, is unstable and rushes to every thought, until a clear declaration of the truth resolves hopeless uncertainty and calms the mind, disturbed by obscurity. And when they came with not very cheerful faces, I, assuming that their gloominess indicated bad news, said: “There is no need for words - after all, your faces with their expressions tell of misfortune, and suffering cries out before the tongue, foreshadowing with its appearance what will be expressed in words. I will not be deceived by plausible explanations or outwitted by convincingly composed speeches. You probably came up with a plausible excuse, wanting to hide the sad truth under a beautiful lie for the time being. I do not listen to words that can take on a deceptive appearance of plausibility, but I see in the face the suffering of the soul. For it is her image, clearly revealing her secret disposition, and it is not inherent in it by a feigned appearance to show in reality a different mood than the one that she has, lurking in the depths. After all, when a word wants, because of the ease of pronunciation, it can cheerfully talk about sorrowful things, giving the sounds the structure it wants, like an ugly hetaera, skillfully hiding her natural appearance with induced embellishments and transforming the truth with deceptive colors. The face does not allow one to hide spiritual suffering, but becomes an impartial judge of the implicit, revealing a secret disposition with a visible expression and not being able to outwit grief with a forced smile, so that even a mirror, which by nature reflects what the image that enters it says, will not show a face darkened by grief as cheerful and blooming. Therefore, either tell the truth without pretense, which is what I ask of you, or know that your faces have already expressed it, as I said before. For what is the use of false consolation to briefly inspire the distressed, and then depress him even more when the sad truth comes out?” So, they, having assured me with many oaths that he had not died, but was sold alive to one of the inhabitants of the city of Elusa, advised me to go there, because there, according to them, I would find my son - but my grief was at least cured to some extent, but not completely. For what, I wondered, if he is alive, and the worst fear of death has disappeared, but, sold, is in slavery and is deprived of the opportunity to live with me? After all, necessity does not allow the pleasure of being completely pure, blocking the path to the aspirations of inclination and restraining freedom of intention by someone else's will, while the soul by nature wants to enjoy autocracy and freely revel in what it likes, as it wants, without being forced by anyone to serve what it does not want. However, later I went to the indicated city with two guides whom they gave me, and on the way we met a certain young man who was following the pack animals. And this was the one who saw me in the camp and knew thoroughly about my affairs, and who, being in Elus and hearing talk about my son, that he was captured by the barbarians, of course, told him about me and, having delivered him a letter with the good news, carried [now] a letter from him to me. Seeing me from afar, he began to approach with a smile, and from my memories I realized that his features were not unknown to me and did not seem alien at first glance. And finding himself next to me, he turned to me with a cheerful face, not like a stranger, and, stretching out his right hand, put it behind his back and, bringing his shoulder blade to his shoulder, with his fingertips he pulled out a letter from the quiver, handed it to me and informed me that my son was alive, urging me to rejoice and not lose good hopes because of his slavery: after all, the one who bought him was a priest of the Divine Mysteries of Christ, and the boy began to serve in the priestly rank. For now, he has been entrusted with the first duties of clerks, but with his diligence he shows great hopes for a speedy advancement, having given many examples of virtue in a short [249] time and convincing everyone to make such a decision, leading them to this by the good behavior of his behavior. I, as a poor and homeless man, thanked him with exclamations of praise and wished him many blessings, because I had nothing with which to honor him for his good service. And I attributed all the providence to God and gave grateful tears for the unexpected joy to Him, who began to dispel the misfortune that seemed hopeless and return us to our original well-being. When I came to the city, I first sought out the holy church as the cause of good things, and gave it due honor, watering the floor with tears and filling God’s sanctuary with cries of lamentation. From there I was escorted to the house where the boy lived, and many went ahead and hastened to announce my arrival with good news. For everyone knew from the rumor that had already passed that I was the notorious father of the one sold into slavery to them, and there was no one who did not show signs of joy by his appearance, but everyone, as if seeing a hopelessly lost loved one, with a cheerful face, rejoicing, showed a mood sharing my joy. So, when we found ourselves near the gate, they called him and said that I had come, and led him to meet me. When we saw each other, neither I nor he expressed any pleasure, but both began to cry, flooding their faces with tears, as well as the tunics on their chests. And he ran up, hardly recognizing me - after all, both the hair on my head and my clothes were dirty, so that I could not be easily recognized - but, apparently believing the messengers rather than his own eyes, he walked with outstretched arms to passionately embrace me. I, despite the crowd surrounding him, quickly recognized him - his facial features were still the same, clearly imprinted on me by the worries of memory - and, unable to control my joy, I immediately lost my bodily strength and, falling unconscious, lay on the ground, mistaken by many for a dead man. After all, for a long time, because of grief, I was absolutely no different from a dead man, except that I saw and breathed while dead. So, by grasping and hugging me, he barely made me wake up from my swoon and find out who I was, where I was and who I saw before my eyes. Here I, in turn, hugged and kissed him, returning him with the same hugs, insatiably satisfying my long-standing lust. Then, turning to words, I began to justify myself and convince him that I was to blame for all the troubles he experienced, taking him away from his homeland and forcing him to settle in an often ruined country - and this was true. After all, would he ever have experienced anything bad, living in his native land and living in his fatherland, where there was peace everywhere and there was no threat of such malice from anywhere? And those who consider fate inevitable and claim that some necessity leads those who suffer to their fate, let them go away. Finally, I asked him to tell about what happened to him during his stay with the barbarians, because the story was no longer sad when the trials were over. For just as health after illness and healing after injury pleases and does not sadden, so the story of regrettable things after deliverance gives a lot of pleasure, perhaps as much as the pain caused by experiencing them. And he, groaning heavily and deeply, with eyes full of tears, said: “What is the use, father, in memories of painful things? After all, memory has a habit of awakening the victim’s ulcers. For, even if the narrative is pleasing to the ears of the listener because of the love of stories, giving one pleasure in the suffering of another, it nevertheless does not leave the survivor free from the pain of past suffering, almost in the same way awakening compassion and, as if by a touch, causing the scar of a still poorly healed wound to ache. But since I know that you will not stop bothering until you find out what you want - you want to find in my extraordinary salvation an object of praise, having become accustomed to praising God even for insignificant good deeds - listen with a courageous spirit, so that, compassionately moaning about the misfortunes that have happened because of my father’s pity, I will not be brought to sobs and so that pitiful sobs will not interfere pronounce words if my voice, as is natural, is interrupted by the inarticulate sounds of crying. So, the slave Magadon, of course, told you a lot after his escape, and repetition of this, perhaps, would distract and burden the ear, thirsting for what it needs, but often experiencing nausea from repetition due to satiety and verbosity - the same thing that happened after his escape must be stated, since you order. As he said - and he, of course, said - the barbarians decided on my slaughter, and in the evening everything was ready for the sacrifice: altar, sword, libation, cup, incense, and in the early morning death was coming, if God had not prevented it, as He did. When he, without hiding his escape from me, ran away, and his capture was already doubtful due to the distance of the journey and the difficulty [250] of pursuit, because not only the time from evening to dawn gives the fugitive a sufficient interval, but also due to the uncertainty of the direction, the method of pursuit was incomprehensible (for who is such a skillful tracker and successful guesser of the unknown to track down [someone] in such an expanse of desert, not finding no trace of his movement? - after all, it is all rocky and cut by ravines and does not show the trace left on it), I lay face down on the ground, turning my face down, and with my mind soaring high on the wings of sorrow and, in view of the impending death, completely occupying my thoughts with prayer without any distraction, I secretly spoke such words to God. After all, when there is no fear, the thoughts in inebriated people are scattered, imagining trade, sea voyages, construction, plantings, betrothals, weddings, childbirth, military service, earnings, litigation, courts, tribunes, thrones, heralds, leaders, revenge on enemies, meetings and communication with friends, public positions, leadership, orders and royal dignity itself, and when circumstances concentrate it thanks to fear in the face of danger, turning away from those things on which he is accustomed to scatter himself, being fearless and free, he becomes completely absorbed in his grief and, begging, asks for God, the only one. Who with a light wave gives a way out of a hopeless situation and says: “Lord, Creator of all visible and intelligible creation, in Whose hand are the hearts of all Your Creatures; turning into pity the savagery of unreasonable anger, when with prudent judgment You want to save those condemned to death by an authoritative sentence, taming the fury of wild animals eager to devour human bodies, pacifying the spreading gust of fire, and with one wave sending numbness to the flaring flame, and keeping those condemned to death unharmed, and making hair and skin stronger with ineffable and miraculous power fire (This refers to the three youths thrown into the fiery furnace - cf. Dan. 6:22 ff.), save the one who has nowhere to hope for help and who is about to be deprived of life by an enemy sentence, who is probably already dead, do not let my blood become a libation to demons, and let not the wicked spirits rejoice at the child of my flesh. They prepared me for sacrifice to the star, the namesake of depraved passion. May the hitherto pure body not become a slaughter and sacrifice for the demon, the same name as debauchery, but change the bestial heart of the savages to condescension and meekness, You, Who changed the inflamed anger of the Median king Assuir against Esther (See Esther 5:1, Church Slavonic version. However, in all versions of the book of Esther we are talking about King Artaxerxes.) and turned cruel rage into compassionate mercy, save the soul who set out to serve You, return to the old father, Your servant, intact his son, who will be godly to the extent that his intention [is realized]. After all, I am now embarking on this confession not out of fear of danger, so that the promise is considered payment for salvation, for by the power of thought I have already anticipated the agony of dying suffering. Show that faith brings salvation rather than speed of feet, and that hope in You is stronger than flight. The one who was to be sacrificed at dawn fled from death, and by flight gained salvation, but I remained, awaiting Your decision, and am in the hands of the enemy, relying on Your help. He trusted in his feet, and I in Your strength: let the Divine hope not be weaker than the bodily hope. He saved himself by taking advantage of the darkness to escape, and it is good that he was saved: behold, daylight has caught me, so save me by Your wisdom, You who have given light to the living to fulfill Your commandments.” The morning found me sleepless in such prayers with bitter tears, and, raising my head, I saw the morning star appear above the horizon. So, rising from the ground, I sat down, hugging my knees with my hands and bowing my face full of tears on them, and again cried out in my heart to the One who could deliver me with the powerful power of the Spirit, and said: “Work miracles with me Thy mercy (Cf. Church Slavonic text Ps. 15:3.), Lord of life, and having also the power of death, Who worked miracles with the saints who found themselves in trouble and saved from all sorrow, so that we have the boldness to call on You and be confident that we will continue to be saved, no matter what disasters we find ourselves in, having in them an example of Your help. You saved Isaac, who was already lying at the very altar, from slaughter, and with the sound of your voice you stopped your father, who intended to thrust the sword (See Gen. 22:9 ff.). You saved Joseph from his brother’s right hand, which was intent on murder (See Gen. 37:26–27), and when they again began to plot against him, You brought him out of unjust bonds and imprisonment and, after a long mourning, returned him to his reigning father (See Gen. 41:14, 40 ff.; 45:26 ff.). You delivered his father Jacob from a similar misfortune, freeing him from envy because of his fatherly [251] blessing (See Gen. 27:27.) and saving the fierce Esau from the rage of the fierce Esau at Laban in Mesopotamia (Wed. Gen. 27:43.), where you also saved Moses, who fled from the tyranny of the Egyptians (Such information not in the Bible. Perhaps Neil is relying on an apocryphal source (unless we are talking about the exodus of Moses from Egypt along with all the Jews). You, having raised two dead youths from their beds, through prophetic prayer, presented them alive to their widowed mothers (See 1 Kings 17:21–22; 2 Kings 4:34–36). One and the same You, the unchanging Lord, with the same power did extraordinary things then and now. Return me too to my father, who trusts in Your mercy, O Lord, and with Your help, stop the inconsolable crying, and let those who do not know Your name marvel at the power of Your might, O exalted King of all power!” While I was busy with this, they awoke in confusion, because the hour of the sacrifice had passed, for the sun had already illuminated the earth, and, not finding a second one, they asked me what had happened. And having received the answer that I, being with them, did not know about the one who was not visible, they calmed down, without threatening me and without showing signs of irritation. Then my spirit came to its senses, and I blessed God, who did not neglect the prayer of the humble, and then I began to have courage and boldness, because, of course, it was God who gave me such grace. And when they ordered me to eat the abomination, I objected and did not obey their orders to have fun with the women, until at last we came close to a populated area. For then, I don’t know with what intentions, they brought me to a village called Sibaita and announced to the local residents about my sale. But having returned home many times with nothing, because no one wanted to give more than two gold pieces, they finally took me out, stood me, as usual, near the village and put a naked sword to my neck, telling everyone that if no one bought, they would immediately kill me. I prayed to the buyers who came, with both hands outstretched, and called on them to give as much as the barbarians asked, and not to be petty, giving a price for human blood, and said that I would reimburse the money in a short time, and I would be a diligent slave to the one who bought me, if he wished, even after reimbursement of the price, recognizing as master the one who bought my life. So, only someone here, taking pity on me, who was sobbing and shedding tears, finally bought it, and from there, as you know, I was resold here, if you reduce many events to a brief retelling. After all, I see that you are excited, and close to tears, and are going to confuse your joy with crying. This is what I endured, father, and, having endured, I was freed, and now you glorify God for my unexpected and extraordinary salvation.” “But you,” I said, “my child, in poverty, experienced a thousand dangers and suffered many deaths in anticipation, although by the grace of God you escaped real death, for truly it is the same thing to expect death and to experience it in practice. I’m not saying that it’s even harder: after all, the cut does not cause as much pain as the anticipation that precedes it, which with prolonged fear stretches the ulcer of grief and makes the expected pain, as if real, last for a long time. In the hour of this torment, I opened my mouth to the Master and promised severe slave service in abstinence and other hardships, if only I would get you back alive, and in a dream I heard a voice saying: “May the Lord establish the word that came out of your mouth.” And it is impossible, my child, for the one who confirmed his promise with the Divine answer to break his obligation and lie, since the prayer found such a good outcome.” “And I,” he said, “will diligently set to work with you, father, and will share the promise with you, because I shared the grace and received most of the benefits. After all, you escaped the experience, and I escaped the very experience of death. Meanwhile, even if all the gifts of God were for the benefit [only] of you, you would need to, thanking God for your father, attribute both the benefit and the reward to yourself, even if for this benefit you would have to endure something terrible. For if Jephthah, who made a vow for victory in the war, had his daughter serve with her own death and agreed to become a slaughter and sacrifice for her father’s accomplishments, then who would I be if I had not hastened to pay my father’s penalty, especially since I would have given the debt to God, Whose custom is to repay the repayment with repeated grace and Who accepts the repaid debt not as a debt, but as a loan, and recognizes that I owe repay, turning the new gift into another recompense for the debtor’s gratitude, as if for a loan; Who always lavishes favors and always signs the debt to those who borrow favors, and considers any return of them to be generosity, so that, being the eternal Beginning of mercies, he gives mercies even as a debtor because of His philandering and generous nature? Therefore, father, having me as a diligent co-payer, begin to repay the debt - God, of course, knowing our [252] strength, in accordance with it, will demand what is due, and will not slander the weakness of nature, exacting backbreaking labor.” I added my prayer to these words and said: “May they be fulfilled in practice, my child, and may they appear in reality, so that the promise finds a good conclusion, and the vow becomes effective, and reward follows the labors. For this is the goal and limit of every deed done according to God, so that the deeds are sealed with reward, and the crowns testify to the struggle, because the reliability of the reward is somehow inherent in revealing the dignity of the deeds, and indisputable rewards - to be evidence of the feat. The God-loving bishop there, who had courted us for a long time and not in the least allowed us to recover from previous misadventures, urged us to stay with him and kindly promised all kinds of rest in everything, but so that, due to suspicion regarding the money paid for the boy, it would not seem as if he was using coercion and demanded to stay rather like a master, he allowed us to do whatever we wanted, only in one case using violence against us, placing a yoke on us against our desire priesthood. For we, reflecting on the burden of service, complained, annoyed, and the burden imposed on us was unbearable, exceeding our strength, and hardly suitable for the saints - as far as the way of life is concerned. After all, it seemed difficult to those who were called, and they, being called, argued that this dignity was above them, and for a long time objected to God, exposing their unworthiness, and refused ordination under the pretext of weakness, although they were better suited for this work than all those present, and because of the exercise of goodness they could more accurately have boldness towards God in service. He said that honor befits labor, believing that this dignity was a reward for the hardships of struggle. So, when we wanted to leave from there and go home, very generously supplied with provisions for a long and fairly extensive journey, he, wishing that the grace of God would accompany us, giving us peace from now on, let us go, not foolishly boasting of his position as a master, as perhaps someone else would have boasted of power over what he had bought, but alleviating even the seeming misfortune with many admonitions, forbearance and moderation disposition avoiding looking arrogant. Let my story end here, where disasters ceased, after many sufferings, God’s grace gave rise to a more joyful life. (In manuscript V (Vaticanus Palatinus graecus 351, f. 57v) there follows, among other things, the following poem (= Anthologia Palatina I, 100): The Nile river stream will water the rich lands, Nila the monk’s speech delights people’s minds.)