BOOK SEVENTH.
CHAPTER 4. ANArKH.
(continued)
"Ah bah! a wretched cap of a Montaigu! Isn't that it?"
"The complaint says tunicam and not cappettam. Do you
know Latin?"
Jehan did not reply.
"Yes," pursued the priest shaking his head, "that is the
state of learning and letters at the present day. The Latin
tongue is hardly understood, Syriac is unknown, Greek so
odious that 'tis accounted no ignorance in the most learned to
skip a Greek word without reading it, and to say, 'Groecum
est non legitur.'"
The scholar raised his eyes boldly. "Monsieur my brother,
doth it please you that I shall explain in good French
vernacular that Greek word which is written yonder on the wall?"
"What word?"
"'ANArKH."
A slight flush spread over the cheeks of the priest with
their high bones, like the puff of smoke which announces on
the outside the secret commotions of a volcano. The student
hardly noticed it.
"Well, Jehan," stammered the elder brother with an effort,
"What is the meaning of yonder word?"
"FATE."
Dom Claude turned pale again, and the scholar pursued carelessly.
"And that word below it, graved by the same hand,
'Ayáyvela, signifies 'impurity.' You see that people do know
their Greek."
And the archdeacon remained silent. This Greek lesson
had rendered him thoughtful.
Master Jehan, who possessed all the artful ways of a spoiled
child, judged that the moment was a favorable one in which
to risk his request. Accordingly, he assumed an extremely
soft tone and began,--
"My good brother, do you hate me to such a degree as to
look savagely upon me because of a few mischievous cuffs and
blows distributed in a fair war to a pack of lads and brats,
quibusdam marmosetis? You see, good Brother Claude, that
people know their Latin."
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