Saint Francis (25 page)

"At the foot of your throne, Holy Father, I place the Rule which will govern my brothers and myself. Please condescend to affix your sacred seal to it."

The pope riveted his eyes upon Francis. "Francis of Assisi," he said slowly in a grave, exhortatory tone, "Francis of Assisi, I discern flames around your face. Are they the flames of the Inferno or the flames of Paradise? I have no confidence in visionaries who seek the impossible: perfect love, perfect chastity, perfect poverty. Why do you wish to surpass human bounds? How dare you presume to attain the heights reached only by Christ, the pinnacle where He now stands alone, unrivaled? Insolence, that's what it is, unbounded insolence! Take care, Francis of Assisi: Satan's true face is arrogance. Who can assure you it is not the devil who is goading you to place yourself in front of everyone else in order to preach the impossible?"

Francis bowed his head humbly. "Holy Father," he said, "give me permission to speak by means of parables."

"More insolence!" roared the pope. "That is the way Christ spoke." "Forgive me, Holy Father, but I cannot do otherwise. Without any conscious desire on my part, my thoughts, and not only my thoughts but also the greatest hope and the greatest despair, turn into tales when they remain for any period of time within me. If you rip open my heart, Holy Father, you will find there only dances and tales--nothing else."

He crossed his arms and was silent. The pope gazed at him mutely. Francis waited to hear his voice, but when the other did not speak he lifted his head and asked, "Shall I continue, Holy Father?"

"I am listening."

"When an almond tree became covered with blossoms in the heart of winter, all the trees around it began to jeer. 'What vanity,' they screamed, 'what insolence! Just think, it believes it can bring spring in this way!' The flowers of the almond tree blushed with shame. 'Forgive me, my sisters,' said the tree. 'I swear I did not want to blossom, but suddenly I felt a warm springtime breeze in my heart.' "

This time the pope was unable to restrain himself.

"Enough!" he cried, jumping to his feet. "Your arrogance knows no bounds, and neither does your humility. Inside you God and Satan are wrestling, and you know it."

"Yes, I know it, Holy Father, and that is why I have come to seek salvation from you. Extend your hand to me; help me! Aren't you the head of Christendom? And I, am I not a soul in danger? Help me!"

"I'll speak with God and come to a decision. Goodbye!"

Francis prostrated himself; then, walking backwards he passed through the doorway, followed by myself.

We wandered through the streets, walking on air like two drunks. The alleyways opened and closed like accordions, the houses swayed, the bell towers tilted, the air filled with white wings. In order to make our way we had to stretch out our arms as though we were swimming. Frequently it seemed to us that we were being called by name, but when we turned to look we saw no one. Fine ladies sailed in front of us-- frigates driven by a splendid following wind, all sails aloft; behind us we heard a sea of men, taverns, and neighing horses. Large clusters of black grapes hung around the windows of the houses, and the ancient Lateran Church was a thousand-year-old vine whose tentacles embraced doors, windows, balconies, the entire city, and then vanished into the sky, heavy with fruit.

When we reached the river we climbed down the bank, plunged our heads into the water, and refreshed ourselves. Our minds became steady again; the world about us did also, and the grapes disappeared. Francis looked at me in surprise, as though seeing me for the first time.

"Who are you?" he asked in an anxious voice. But he came to himself immediately, and fell into my arms. "Forgive me, Brother Leo. I see everything as though for the first time. What is this whir that surrounds us on every side? Is it the city, is it Rome? And where are the Apostles, where is Christ? Come, let's go away!"

He glanced around him and lowered his voice. "Did you hear the pope? Yes, you were there, you heard him. How prudently he spoke, how staidly, with what confidence! Whoever follows him will never be damned to perdition, but neither will he ever leap above the mud which is man. As for us, Brother Leo, our purpose is to leap above the mud which is man!"

"But can we?" I dared ask. I regretted my words, however, the moment I uttered them.

"What did you say?" demanded Francis, halting.

I shrank back. "Nothing, Brother Francis. I didn't say anything; it was the Tempter speaking inside me."

Francis smiled bitterly. "And how long, Brother Leo, is the Tempter going to continue to speak inside you?"

"Until I die, Brother Francis. He'll die at the same time."

"Place your trust in man's soul, Brother Leo, and do not listen to the advice of prudence. The soul can achieve the impossible."

He proceeded quickly along the riverbank, his feet sloshing through the mud. Suddenly he halted and waited for me. He placed his hand heavily on my shoulder.

"Brother Leo, open your mind and engrave deeply there what I am about to tell you. The body of man is the bow, God is the archer, and the soul is the arrow. Understand?"

"Yes and no, Brother Francis. What are you trying to say? Bring your idea closer to the ground so that my brain can reach it."

"What I mean, Brother Leo, is this: There are three kinds of prayer.

"The first: 'Lord, bend me, or else I shall rot.'

"The second: 'Lord, do not bend me too much, for I shall break.'

"The third, Brother Leo, is our prayer: 'Lord, bend me too much, and who cares if I break!' Just as there are three kinds of prayer, so there are three kinds of men. Record it well in your mind, and do not tremble. . . . I don't know how many times I've told you this, but I say it again: Even now you have time to turn back, to escape--to keep yourself from breaking!"

I seized Francis' hand and kissed it.

"Bend me too much, Brother Francis," I said, "and who cares if I break!"

We continued on for some time in silence. I marched in Francis' tracks, jubilantly, but at the same time I trembled at the thought that unworthy as I was I should be following this pale dangerous man who prayed God to bend him too much, even though he break. . . . But what was I to do? I found myself voicing the same prayer, the only difference being that while Francis exulted, I trembled. He had told me to turn back--how could I? The angelic bread that he was feeding me was much too delicious. I remembered one night when the friars grumbled because they were hungry. Francis frowned and grew angry. "You are hungry," he said, "because you do not see the angelic loaf which lies in front of you as big as a millstone; you do not see it, and thus you do not reach out to cut and eat the slice which will satisfy your hunger for all eternity!"

Suddenly there was a familiar voice behind us: "Brother Francis! Brother Francis!"

We turned. A panting monk was racing to catch up with us.

"It's Father Silvester!" cried Francis, and he ran to greet him. "What are you doing here? Why did you abandon your flock?" he asked, squeezing him in his arms. Silvester, though breathless and weeping, began to speak immediately.

"Bad news, Brother Francis!" he said, gasping for air. "As long as you were with us the Tempter prowled outside our fold. He ground his teeth and howled, but dared not jump the fence and enter. He smelled your breath, Brother Francis, and this made him tremble. But now that you've left--"

"He jumped the fence and entered?"

"Yes, Brother Francis, he jumped the fence and entered. He bent over and whispered in the ears of Sabattino, Angelo, Ruffino; he fell upon the other brothers also, while they were asleep and their souls unguarded, and spoke to them of soft beds, good food, women. The next morning they all awoke short of breath, scowling, and without rhyme or reason they spoke rude words to one another and began to quarrel. Many times after that they even came to blows. It was in vain that I stepped between them and shouted, 'Peace, brothers, let us live in harmony! Where is your fear of God? Aren't you ashamed to act this way in front of Francis? He is here among us and sees and hears us!' But there was little chance they would listen to me. 'We're starving,' shouted Sabattino. 'Tell Francis his trained bears won't dance unless he feeds them! We want to eat, to eat!' The Tempter had dug his talons into their bellies and was dragging them down into hell."

"Bernard too? Pietro?" asked Francis in anguish.

"Bernard and Pietro stayed off by themselves, always together, always praying."

"And Elias?"

"Elias wants to alter your Rule, Brother Francis. It seems too strict to him, too inhuman. He says absolute Poverty is oppressive, and that human nature is incapable of reaching perfect Love, or perfect Chastity either. He comes and goes, talks with the brothers both openly and in secret, and spends his nights writing the new Rule, with Antonio as his scribe. He has formidable goals in mind. He says he wants to build churches, monasteries, universities, to send missionaries far and wide to conquer the world. For he says that everyone-- everyone in the world--must put on the hood and appear in this way before God."

Francis sighed. "What else is there to report, Father Silvester? Do not spare me anything. Speak."

"Capella is another who has raised his individual banner. He finds your Rule too soft and wants to follow you to Rome to receive papal sanction for a new order which he plans to establish personally. He says we should eat meat only once a year, on Easter day. The rest of the year nothing but bran and water, except on Sundays we can add a little salt. Also, since conversation is a luxury, we must not talk among ourselves, but only to God. He threw away his green hat with its red ribbon: kicked it, trampled it furiously, shouting, 'No hat! No hood either! We'll go about bareheaded, summer and winter!' "

"Do not stop, do not stop, Father Silvester," said Francis. "These are the deepest wounds. Strike!"

"New brothers have been arriving continually. They are educated and intelligent, are forever reading the thick manuscripts they carry round with them, or else writing or giving discourses in church; and they wear leather sandals, robes without patches, and laugh whenever they see us. How could we rebel against them, we who were your original brothers? With you absent, Brother Francis, we have no strength--how could we resist? Once two of the younger brothers spent the night in a house of pleasure. 'Where were you all night long?' I asked them the next morning when they returned exhausted and breathless. They didn't want to answer, but they gave off a strange, bitter smell, and Brother Bernard fainted."

Francis leaned against me to keep from falling.

"The original brothers scattered," continued Father Silvester. "I forced myself to be patient, saying you would return quickly to expel the Tempter and put everything in order again. But then a terrible thing happened, Brother Francis. It was Good Friday, and when the friars had assembled together in the evening, we found we had nothing to eat--the good people of Assisi had grown tired of feeding us. I began to speak to the brothers about Christ's Passion and to praise God for permitting us to spend this day, the day of His crucifixion, in prayer and complete abstinence. 'A full belly weighs down our prayers,' I said to them; 'it turns to lead and prevents them from ascending to heaven. The devil rejoices when he sees a man afraid of hunger.' But while I was speaking to them I was suddenly startled by the appearance of a black, well-nourished billy goat in the doorway. It had twisted horns, eyes which flashed bright green in the darkness, and a short pointed beard that was all aflame. Five or six of the brothers shouted with joy and leapt to their feet the moment they saw the goat. One of them had a long knife; the others undid their knotted cords and made nooses, then darted forward to lasso the animal around the neck. The buck rose on his hind legs, danced for a moment, and immediately shot off with a bound for the forest, the brothers in hot pursuit. I ran too, shouting at them, 'Stop, brothers, open your eyes! It's not a buck; it's Satan. You are committing a great sin!' But who could expect them to listen to me? Hunger had driven them frantic. They let fly their ropes and the brother with the dagger leaned forward, peering into the darkness and swinging his armed hand up and down into the buck--or so he thought; but he was only knifing the air. The goat continued to elude them. It kept turning around to look at them, and its eyes, in the darkness, were filled with flames. 'It's the devil,' I shouted. 'Don't you see the fires? I adjure you in the name of Christ Crucified-- stop!' Several of the brothers became frightened and halted; but then the goat halted also--it seemed to be afraid the brothers might leave it--and without losing a second the brother with the knife jumped chest first on top of the animal. I watched them wrestle for a few moments, and then suddenly the knife entered the goat's belly and the black buck collapsed to the ground, bleating happily. Then the remaining brothers dashed forward, and in a flash the buck was torn limb from limb and in the mouth of each of the brothers there was a chunk of meat, dripping with blood. They chewed hurriedly, swallowed, grabbed a new mouthful; then, as though they had become drunk, they began to dance around the severed head and twisted horns, blood and fire dripping from their mouths. All this time I was beating my breast and weeping. There were thick fumes of sulphur weighing down the air; and suddenly--O Lord, Thou art indeed great-- suddenly I saw the head move, saw it with my own two eyes. It rose into the air; the body came together and glued itself to the severed neck, the four hoofs rested squarely on the ground, I heard a short taunting bleat, and then, fully alive, the buck vanished into the night. But the brothers continued to dance and eat, unconcerned: the Tempter had bewitched their eyes, and they had seen nothing. I did not go back to the Portiuncula, but departed for Rome in order to fall at your feet, Brother Francis, and cry out to you: The brotherhood is in danger, our souls are in danger--come!"