The Three Musketeers (The Modern Library) - Alexandre Dumas [137]
“Ordination!” D’Artagnan echoed, flabbergasted, for he still could not bring himself to believe what both the hostess and Bazin had told him. “Ordination!” he repeated, looking in bewilderment at the trio before him.
Aramis sat back in his armchair with the same easy grace he would have assumed on a formal visit to the bedside of a lady of the Court. Nonchalantly he looked down at his hand, as white and as dimpled a hand as the fairest woman might boast; then he dropped his arm so that the blood might flow down to his fingertips. “Well, D’Artagnan, just as I told you, Monsieur le Principal would wish my thesis to be thoroughly dogmatic, whereas I would prefer it to be thoroughly idealistic. That is why Monsieur le Principal has proposed this subject: Utraque manus in benedicendo clericis inferioribus necessaria est—”
D’Artagnan, whose education was rudimentary, did not flinch at this learned quotation any more than he had flinched when Monsieur de Tréville had uttered certain incomprehensible words about gifts he believed D’Artagnan had received from the Duke of Buckingham.
Aramis however was not duped by the Gascon’s imperturbability. With exquisite tact he added urbanely:
“I need scarcely translate the Latin for you as you know it means That it is indispensable for priests of the inferior orders to employ both hands when they bestow the benediction. Monsieur le Principal assures me the topic has not been treated and I myself see what magnificent possibilities it offers.”
“An admirable subject!” the Jesuit confirmed and “Admirably dogmatic!” the Curé approved, for, about as well versed in Latin as D’Artagnan, he observed the Jesuit’s every move in order to keep in step and echo him verbatim. As for D’Artagnan, he remained totally indifferent to the zeal and enthusiasm of the clerics. “Prorsus admirabile, admirable indeed,” Aramis continued blandly, “but the subject requires a profound study of both the Scriptures and the Church Fathers. In all humility, D’Artagnan, I confessed to these ecclesiastical savants that my duties in mounting guard and serving the King have caused me to neglect my studies somewhat. Accordingly, facilius natans, swimming in my own waters, so to speak, I ventured that a subject of my own choosing might offer to these arduous theological problems something of the comfort moral science offers to the study of metaphysics in the realm of philosophy.”
D’Artagnan felt bored to tears, so too the Curé.
“See what an exordium!” the Jesuit commented.
“Exordium,” the Curé repeated for want of something to say.
“Quemadmodum inter coelorum immensitatem,” Aramis said, “All ways are good so but we reach the vast world of heaven!” As he glanced at D’Artagnan to see what effect all this produced, he saw but a vast yawn, fit to break even a Gascon’s jaw. “Let us speak French, Father,” he urged the Jesuit, “Monsieur D’Artagnan will enjoy our conversation the more.”
“Ay, gentlemen, I confess I am tired out after my journey and all this Latin confuses me.”
Somewhat vexed, the Jesuit agreed; the Curé glanced gratefully at D’Artagnan and the Jesuit went on:
“Let us see, my friends, what sense is to be derived from this gloss . . .” He sighed cavernously, “Moses, the servant of God . . . he was but a servant, remember . . . Moses, I say, blessed with his hands, you understand . . . he had acolytes hold up his two arms while the Hebrews fell victoriously upon their enemies . . . in other words, he blessed with both hands. . . . Besides, what does the Gospel say? It says imponite manus not imponite manum, the hands, plural, not the hand.”
“Imponite manus,” the Curé echoed with an appropriate gesture, “lay on both hands!”
“Of course in the case of Saint Peter there was a slight difference,” the Jesuit continued. “His successors, the Popes said: Porrige digitos, bless with the fingers.” He coughed. “Do you follow me?” he asked hopefully.
“Certainly,” Aramis exclaimed gleefully, “but the point is a subtle one.”