Chapter Chapter 88 · 第88章

Soon after this there came into the dark chamber to fetch Pierre, not

the Rhetor but Pierre’s sponsor, Willarski, whom he recognized by his

voice. To fresh questions as to the firmness of his resolution Pierre

replied: “Yes, yes, I agree,” and with a beaming, childlike smile,

his fat chest uncovered, stepping unevenly and timidly in one slippered

and one booted foot, he advanced, while Willarski held a sword to his

bare chest. He was conducted from that room along passages that turned

backwards and forwards and was at last brought to the doors of the

Lodge. Willarski coughed, he was answered by the Masonic knock with

mallets, the doors opened before them. A bass voice (Pierre was still

blindfolded) questioned him as to who he was, when and where he was

born, and so on. Then he was again led somewhere still blindfolded,

and as they went along he was told allegories of the toils of his

pilgrimage, of holy friendship, of the Eternal Architect of the

universe, and of the courage with which he should endure toils and

dangers. During these wanderings, Pierre noticed that he was spoken

of now as the “Seeker,” now as the “Sufferer,” and now as the

“Postulant,” to the accompaniment of various knockings with

mallets and swords. As he was being led up to some object he noticed a

hesitation and uncertainty among his conductors. He heard those around

him disputing in whispers and one of them insisting that he should be

led along a certain carpet. After that they took his right hand, placed

it on something, and told him to hold a pair of compasses to his left

breast with the other hand and to repeat after someone who read aloud

an oath of fidelity to the laws of the Order. The candles were then

extinguished and some spirit lighted, as Pierre knew by the smell, and

he was told that he would now see the lesser light. The bandage was

taken off his eyes and, by the faint light of the burning spirit,

Pierre, as in a dream, saw several men standing before him, wearing

aprons like the Rhetor’s and holding swords in their hands pointed at

his breast. Among them stood a man whose white shirt was stained with

blood. On seeing this, Pierre moved forward with his breast toward the

swords, meaning them to pierce it. But the swords were drawn back from

him and he was at once blindfolded again.

“Now thou hast seen the lesser light,” uttered a voice. Then the

candles were relit and he was told that he would see the full light; the

bandage was again removed and more than ten voices said together: “Sic

transit gloria mundi.”

Pierre gradually began to recover himself and looked about at the room

and at the people in it. Round a long table covered with black sat some

twelve men in garments like those he had already seen. Some of them

Pierre had met in Petersburg society. In the President’s chair sat a

young man he did not know, with a peculiar cross hanging from his

neck. On his right sat the Italian abbé whom Pierre had met at

Anna Pávlovna’s two years before. There were also present a very

distinguished dignitary and a Swiss who had formerly been tutor at the

Kurágins’. All maintained a solemn silence, listening to the words

of the President, who held a mallet in his hand. Let into the wall was

a star-shaped light. At one side of the table was a small carpet with

various figures worked upon it, at the other was something resembling an

altar on which lay a Testament and a skull. Round it stood seven large

candlesticks like those used in churches. Two of the brothers led Pierre

up to the altar, placed his feet at right angles, and bade him lie down,

saying that he must prostrate himself at the Gates of the Temple.

“He must first receive the trowel,” whispered one of the brothers.

“Oh, hush, please!” said another.

Pierre, perplexed, looked round with his shortsighted eyes without

obeying, and suddenly doubts arose in his mind. “Where am I? What am

I doing? Aren’t they laughing at me? Shan’t I be ashamed to remember

this?” But these doubts only lasted a moment. Pierre glanced at

the serious faces of those around, remembered all he had already gone

through, and realized that he could not stop halfway. He was aghast

at his hesitation and, trying to arouse his former devotional feeling,

prostrated himself before the Gates of the Temple. And really, the

feeling of devotion returned to him even more strongly than before. When

he had lain there some time, he was told to get up, and a white leather

apron, such as the others wore, was put on him: he was given a trowel

and three pairs of gloves, and then the Grand Master addressed him. He

told him that he should try to do nothing to stain the whiteness of that

apron, which symbolized strength and purity; then of the unexplained

trowel, he told him to toil with it to cleanse his own heart from vice,

and indulgently to smooth with it the heart of his neighbor. As to the

first pair of gloves, a man’s, he said that Pierre could not know

their meaning but must keep them. The second pair of man’s gloves

he was to wear at the meetings, and finally of the third, a pair of

women’s gloves, he said: “Dear brother, these woman’s gloves are

intended for you too. Give them to the woman whom you shall honor most

of all. This gift will be a pledge of your purity of heart to her whom

you select to be your worthy helpmeet in Masonry.” And after a pause,

he added: “But beware, dear brother, that these gloves do not deck

hands that are unclean.” While the Grand Master said these last words

it seemed to Pierre that he grew embarrassed. Pierre himself grew still

more confused, blushed like a child till tears came to his eyes, began

looking about him uneasily, and an awkward pause followed.

This silence was broken by one of the brethren, who led Pierre up to the

rug and began reading to him from a manuscript book an explanation of

all the figures on it: the sun, the moon, a hammer, a plumb line, a

trowel, a rough stone and a squared stone, a pillar, three windows, and

so on. Then a place was assigned to Pierre, he was shown the signs of

the Lodge, told the password, and at last was permitted to sit down.

The Grand Master began reading the statutes. They were very long, and

Pierre, from joy, agitation, and embarrassment, was not in a state to

understand what was being read. He managed to follow only the last words

of the statutes and these remained in his mind.

“In our temples we recognize no other distinctions,” read the Grand

Master, “but those between virtue and vice. Beware of making any

distinctions which may infringe equality. Fly to a brother’s aid

whoever he may be, exhort him who goeth astray, raise him that falleth,

never bear malice or enmity toward thy brother. Be kindly and courteous.

Kindle in all hearts the flame of virtue. Share thy happiness with thy

neighbor, and may envy never dim the purity of that bliss. Forgive thy

enemy, do not avenge thyself except by doing him good. Thus fulfilling

the highest law thou shalt regain traces of the ancient dignity which

thou hast lost.”

He finished and, getting up, embraced and kissed Pierre, who, with tears

of joy in his eyes, looked round him, not knowing how to answer the

congratulations and greetings from acquaintances that met him on all

sides. He acknowledged no acquaintances but saw in all these men only

brothers, and burned with impatience to set to work with them.

The Grand Master rapped with his mallet. All the Masons sat down in

their places, and one of them read an exhortation on the necessity of

humility.

The Grand Master proposed that the last duty should be performed,

and the distinguished dignitary who bore the title of “Collector

of Alms” went round to all the brothers. Pierre would have liked

to subscribe all he had, but fearing that it might look like pride

subscribed the same amount as the others.

The meeting was at an end, and on reaching home Pierre felt as if he had

returned from a long journey on which he had spent dozens of years, had

become completely changed, and had quite left behind his former habits

and way of life.