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The Jaws of Night (Fragment of a Planned Mystery) Andrei Bely Leon Bakst's portrait of Bely (1905) The corner of a plateau in the mountains, the last refuge of the Christians, cut off from the rest of the world by deep abysses. It is dark. The lace formed by the stars is pale and misty. To the right, the edge of a cypress grove. To the left, enormous rocks. The mountain plateau comes to an abrupt end in a steep precipice that plunges down to the depths. Along the edge of the precipice there is a stone railing. White patches glow in the depths of the night: these are glacial mountain peaks on the far side of the abyss. To the left, out of sight behind the rocks, stands an oil lamp whose flickering yellow gleams illumine this corner of the plateau. The yellow light falls in dull spots on the white costumes. The Christian women, tightly covered from head to foot, have gathered to pray before retiring for the long night. The prayer is now over, but they are loath to part without exchanging a few words. There are prophetesses among them. At least two or three are present. Their long gray hair falls down over their shoulders as a mark of sorrow and contrition. At the very brink, an old prophet, sunk in a deep catatonic sleep, has leaned his white head.against the railing. On his knees rests the delicate head of a frail little boy with hair white as flax. They are both asleep. The two of them, like marble statues, stand out vividly against the black night. Around the old man there is a semi-circle of greenish phosphorescent light which illumines the immediate vicinity. As they approach the railing, the Christian women become illumined by a slight glow and grow radiant. When they leave the lighted area, they continue for a while to radiate an almost tangible aureole, which then gradually goes out. The Christian women speak in a constrained and hushed tone of voice. A CHRISTIAN WOMAN: Twenty-four hours have passed. And the day has not reappeared. A SECOND: There has been no day for a long time now. A cold night has taken its place. Only the moon has risen and set. The sun has not appeared. A THIRD: But sisters, what if the sun never appears again? What if the sun at its last crimson setting has said farewell to us forever and forever: what if the sun has gone to its eternal rest? ALL: The sun has disappeared ... A PROPHETESS (to the Third ChristianWoman): Shame upon you, sister. Mortal anguish has hemmed us in. But we must bum away this anguish in the flame of hope. Are we not all doomed to death in any case? THIRD (endeavoringto smile): I do not complain, my mother. I knew the fate I was choosing. AN OLD CHRISTIAN WOMAN (seatedon a rock): Since then three years have passed, three long years. We have suffered much. PROPHETESS (picking up a silver censer and blowing on the grains of incense): Let us suffer patiently a little longer, my children. Our sufferings will not last forever. ALL: We keep the faith. We shall die in this faith. THIRD: How sad it is not to see the sun. It was warm and golden. Now the sun has disappeared. SECOND: And the day, how beautiful it was! Now golden, now bright as dew, now white as pearl. Dazzling splendor. Vistas open on all sides. And all of it crystal clear. FIRST: Both the day and the light were God given. But we did not value his gifts. We did not offer up thanks to God. We did not compose prayers in honor of the golden day, nor hymns in honor of the rose-colored dawn. The Lord has taken away the dawn, and the Lord has taken away the day. And we bemoan our fate, like poor lost sheep. SECOND: And yet not long ago it was different. You could sing on a sunny day, drenched in the bright beams. Sorrow might hang heavy upon your shoulders, but underfoot there were sunny spots and patches. You...

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