And taking advantage of the general confusion, Father Hierotheus, protected by his acolytes, swiftly passed out.
Father Missail went apart and began to pray in a low voice, repeating again and again: “Calamity threatens! Calamity threatens! Shield us, Holy Virgin!——”
But the monks began to shout and quarrel more wildly than before.
“Spiridon, you infidel, listen: the Son sits on a throne at the right hand of the Father!” “Well, that is right, leave him there!” “No, he drags the Son off the throne, and puts him down at His Father’s feet!”
“Cursed, cursed, cursed, Anathema! If an angel reveal what is not in the Scriptures let him be anathema!”
“You ignoramuses! You know not how to discuss the Scriptures! What is the good of wasting time or argument on you, village blockheads!”
“God has blinded you for standing up against Truth! Curse you, may you perish!”
“May we have nothing to do with you, either in this world, or the next!”
All spoke together, and no one listened. Now not only those who believed in the Unity of the Trinity disputed fiercely with those who believed in the three distinct Persons, but brethren of the same persuasion were ready to shout themselves hoarse over mere nothings: the swinging of the thurifer in the shape of a cross; the eating of garlic on Annunciation-day, the crossing of the legs during confession. Babel was let loose. Every comma and iota in the old books roused wrathful disputations.