"Praised be the Lord," said the priest and placed the dlesti the table. Goldmund murmured the respoaring straight ahead.
The priest said nothing. He waited and said nothing, until Goldmund grew restless and seargly raised his eyes to the man in front of him.
This man, he now saw to his fusion, was not only wearing the habit of the fathers of Mariabronn, he also wore the insignia of the office of Abbot.
And now he looked into the Abbots face. It was a bony face, firmly, clearly cut, with very thin lips. It was a face he knew. As though spellbound, Goldmund looked into this face that seemed pletely formed by mind and will. With unsteady hand he reached for the dlestick, lifted it and held it closer to the strao see his eyes. He saw them and the dlestick shook in his hand as he put it ba the table.
"Narcissus!" he whispered almost inaudibly. The cellar began to spin around him.
"Yes, Goldmund, I used to be Narcissus, but I abahat name a long time ago; youve probably fotten. Sihe day I took the vows, my name has been John."
Goldmund was shaken to the roots of his being. The whole world had ged, and the sudden collapse of his superhuman effort threateo choke him. He trembled; dizziness made his head feel like ay bladder; his stomach tracted. Behind his eyes something burned like scalding sobs. He loo sink into himself, to dissolve in tears, to faint.
But a warning rose from the depths of the memories of his youth, the memories that the sight of Narcissus had jured up: once, as a boy, he had cried, had let himself go in front of this beautiful, strict face, these dark omnist eyes. He could never do that again. Like a ghost, Narcissus had reappeared at the stra moment of his life, probably to save his life—and now he was about to break into sobs in front of him again, or faint? No, no, no. He trolled himself. He subdued his heart, forced his stomach to be calm, willed the dizziness out of his head. He could not show any weakness now.
In an artificially trolled voice, he mao say: "You must permit me to go on calling you Narcissus."
"Do, my friend. And dont you want to shake my hand?"
Again Goldmund dominated himself. With a boyishly stubborn, slightly ironie, like the one he had occasionally taken in his student days, he forced out an answer.
"Five me, Narcissus," he said coldly and a trifle blasé. "I see that you have bee Abbot. But Im still a vagrant. And besides, our versation, as much as I desire it, wont unfortunately last very long. Because, Narcissus, Ive beeeo the gallows, and in an hour, or sooner, Ill probably be hanged. I say this only to clarify the situation for you."
Narcissuss expression did not ge. He was much amused by the boyish boasting streak in his friends attitude and at the same time touched. But he uood and keenly appreciated the pride that kept Goldmund from collapsing tearfully against his chest. He, too, had imagiheir reunion differently, but he had no obje whatsoever to this little edy. Goldmund could not have charmed his way bato his heart any faster.
"Well yes," he said, with the same pretended casualness. "But I reassure you about the gallows. Youve been pardoned. I have beeo tell you that, and to take you away with me. Because you ot remain in this city. So well have plenty of time to chat with each other. Now will you shake my hand?"
They shook hands, holding on for a long time, pressing hard and feeling deeply moved, but th