Chapter 53 Chapter Forty-eight

night There was a great fire, and the forces of hell prevailed, caught off guard and without command The old man was silent.He spread his hands over the book, as if stroking the pages, flattening them for easier reading, or shielding the book from bird claws. "It was all in vain," William said to him, "and it is over now. I have found you, and I have found the book, and all the others died in vain." "Not in vain," said George, "perhaps too many people. If you need evidence that the book is cursed, you have got it. Not one more is enough to prove that their lives were not lost in vain." pity."

"Adeso!" cried William. "Stay at the door. Don't let him out!" But he spoke too late, because I wanted to jump at the old man earlier, so as soon as the darkness fell, I jumped forward, trying to go around the other side of the table.It was too late before I realized that George, who could move freely in the dark, might take this opportunity to sneak towards the door.We heard a ripping of paper behind us—a bit vague because it was coming from another room.At the same time we heard another sound, the harsh groan of hinges. "Mirrors!" cried William, "he's going to lock us in!"

The two of us rushed to the entrance following the sound.I tripped over a stool and fell to the ground.But now I can't control the pain.All I thought was that once George locked us up we'd never get out, that we'd never find a way to open the door in the dark, and we'd never know how to operate the mechanism from that side. I believe William was as desperate as I was, because we both reached the doorstep at the same time, pressing hard against the back of the mirror that was closed towards us.Fortunately we arrived in time, and under our pressure the door stopped, ready to open again at any moment.Obviously, George knew that the conflict was not evenly matched, so he let it go.We jumped out of the cursed room, but we didn't know which direction the old man was heading, and there was still suffocating darkness in front of us.

Suddenly I remembered: "Teacher, I brought the flint and steel!" "Then what are you waiting for?" cried William. "Find the oil lamp and light it!" I turned and rushed to End of Africa again, fumbling for an oil lamp in the darkness.I found it right away, thank God, and took the flint and steel out of my frock.My hands trembled, and I tried two or three times without success. William panted at the door: "Hurry up, hurry up!" Finally I hit the spark. "Hurry up!" William urged me again, "or the old man will eat the whole Aristotle!"

"And die!" I yelled, rushed forward and joined the search. "I don't care if he dies or not, that damned monster!" roared William, moving from side to side, looking around. "He's got so much poison that he's sure to die. But I want the book!" Then he stopped, and said calmly again. Said, "Wait a minute. If we're in such a panic again, we'll never find him. Be quiet, let's not move just yet." We stopped and held our breath.In the silence, we heard the sound of a human body bumping into a bookcase not far away, knocking down several books.

"Over there!" We shouted in unison. We ran in the direction of the noise, but immediately realized we had to slow down.In fact, as soon as we walked out of the "End of Africa", the library was filled with the whirring sound of the wind, which echoed the strong wind outside. As long as we quickened our pace, the flame of the oil lamp was in danger of being extinguished.Since we can't move too fast, we have to slow George down too.But William thought differently. He shouted: "Now we have light again, you can't run away, old man!" The ability of medium perception speeds up the speed of movement.Not long after, we heard another noise and followed it into the "Y" room of "Yspania".We see him lying on his stomach, his hands still clutching the books, trying to get up from the pile of books that have slid off the table.He tried to stand up, but continued tearing at the pages, determined to devour his loot as quickly as possible.

By the time we caught up, he was on his feet, sensing our approach, turned to face us, and backed away.Under the light of the red fire, his face looked horrific, his facial features were distorted, a stream of sweat flowed from his forehead along his cheeks, his usually dead white eyes were covered with red bloodshot eyes, and a few pieces of paper hung on his mouth. It looked like a beast that had overfed and couldn't swallow any more food.With the torment of worry, the poison that ran through his veins, and the urgency of his fearful determination, his usually respectable figure looked grotesquely grotesque.At other times his appearance might have made people laugh, but at this moment we are no different from animals, like dogs approaching prey.

We could have caught him calmly, but instead we jumped on him.He twisted his body, holding the book tightly to his chest with both hands.I grabbed him with my left hand, and tried to raise the lamp with my right hand, but the flame burned him accidentally.He felt a burst of heat, and let out a low cry, and a few pieces of paper spewed out of his mouth. At the same time, he let go of the book with his right hand, and swiped vigorously towards the oil lamp, causing the oil lamp to fly away from his hand—— The oil lamp just landed on the pile of books that had just slipped from the table, the lamp oil splashed out, and the flame immediately jumped onto the fragile parchment, and the pile of books was peeled and burned like dry wood.

Everything happened with lightning speed, as if those ancient books longed to burn, and laughed for a moment at the satisfaction of their hunger.Seeing that the situation was wrong, William let go of the blind old man.George felt that he was free from the restraints, and he took a few steps back.William hesitated for a moment, almost too long, whether to grab George again or put out the little fire first.An older ancient book burned out in an instant, leaving only a tongue of flame leaping upwards. Strong winds, which might have blown out small flames, fueled leaping flames, and even carried sparks flying about.

"Put the fire out! Quick!" cried William, "or everything will be burned!" I rushed to the fire, but stopped because I didn't know what to do.William rushed over to assist me.Our hands are outstretched, and our eyes are busy searching for something to put out the fire.With an idea, I hurriedly took off my robe and threw it towards the fire.But now the flames were so high that they consumed my clothes in no time.The fire continued unabated.I retracted my hot hands and turned to Willem, and saw George leaning in again, right behind Willem.The heat became so intense that the old man easily noticed it.So he knew exactly where the fire was, and threw the sequel to Aristotle's Essay on Poetry into the fire.

In a burst of rage, William pushed the old man hard.George bumped into a bookcase, hit his head squarely against the corner, and fell to the ground... but William let out a low curse and ignored him.He turned to look at the pile of books.It was too late, the book left by the old man had been burned. At this moment, the sparks thrown to the surroundings under the gust of wind have found a new landing point on another cabinet of books, turning into raging anger.At this time, the fire scene in the room has not only one place, but two places. William realized that we could not put out the fire with bare hands, so he decided to save the book with a book.He grabbed a book bound more firmly than the others, and tried to use it as a weapon against the fire.However, as he threw the book into the fire, more sparks were stirred. Although he tried to dissipate the sparks with his foot, it had the opposite effect. Burning bits of parchment flew like bats in the air, and the whistling wind blew them towards other books. Even more unfortunate, this is the messiest room in the maze.Rolled manuscripts hung from the shelves; some books were unraveled, and the pages were allowed to run out of the cover. There are scattered books that Malachi (who has had no assistant for several days) has neglected to replace.So after George's fall, there were parchments all over the room waiting to be burned. It didn't take long for it to become a blazing fire place, and even the bookcase joined the festival, and it started to rattle.I realized that the whole labyrinth was like a sacrificial pile of sticks, just waiting for the first spark to fall. William said, "Water, we need water!" But he added, "But where is water to be found in this purgatory?" I shouted: "The kitchen, there is a kitchen downstairs!" William looked at me in confusion, his face was flushed red by the blazing flames. "Yes, but when we go down and up again... let the devil have it!" he cried. "At any rate, this room is out of order, and the next room may be doomed. Let's go downstairs at once. I'm going to get water, you rush out and sound the alarm. We need a lot of help!" We made our way to the stairs.The fire also illuminated several adjacent rooms, and the light became darker and darker as we went down, so that we almost groped forward in the last two rooms.Twilight moonlight penetrated the office, from which we went downstairs into the dining room.William rushed into the kitchen.I ran to the dining room door and frantically pulled the latch down.As soon as I stepped outside, I ran towards the dormitory, only then did I realize that I couldn't wake up the monks one by one.On a whim, I rushed into the chapel and looked for the passage to the tower. God bless me, I found it right away.I went upstairs and pulled all the ropes and sounded the alarm.I pulled hard, and the middle bell rope pulled me off the ground as it went up.The backs of my hands were burned in the library, and now I've worn out my otherwise uninjured palms, oozing blood from the friction as they slipped across the rope, and I just let go. By this point, though, I had made enough noise.I rushed out of the chapel just in time to see the first monks hurrying out of their quarters, and the servants rushing out of their quarters in a panic.I really couldn't explain it, because I couldn't speak at all, and when I finally blurted it out, it was in Germanic that no one understood.I point my bloody finger to the window of the southern tower, and an unusual light has shone through the glass window.Judging by the blazing brightness, I realized that the fire had spread to other rooms as I ran down to ring the bell.All the windows in the African part, and the wall between the south and east towers, had faint and irregular tongues of flame. "Water! Get some water!" I yelled. At first no one noticed.The monks usually think that the library is a sacred and inviolable forbidden place, so that no one thinks that it is threatened unexpectedly by the ordinary thatched cottage at this moment.Then they raised their heads to look at the window, but they just murmured silent prayers and murmured fear, presumably thinking that there was another mysterious phenomenon.I grabbed them by the clothes and begged them to understand, and finally someone translated my sobbing into human language. It was Nicholas of Morimondo, and he said: "The library is on fire!" "Yes." I replied in a low voice, slumped on the ground exhausted. Nicholas immediately took contingency measures, issued orders to the servants, and instructed the monks around him to send some to open all the doors of the cathedral, and others to fetch water and various utensils.He directed the people present to go to the various wells and water tanks of the monastery, and ordered the cattlemen to lead the donkeys and mules out to carry water... If these instructions were issued by a very authoritative person, everyone would have no objection Obey immediately. But the servants were accustomed to obey Remigio, the scribe to Malachi, and the others to the Abbot.The thing is, none of these three people was there.The monks looked for the abbot everywhere, wanting to listen to his instructions and comfort, but they could not find him.Only I know that he is dead, or dying, at this moment, imprisoned in an airless, unbearably hot tunnel. Nicholas pushed the cowherds to move, but other monks also pushed them in the other direction out of good intentions.Some of the brothers were clearly distracted, while others were too sleepy to keep their eyes open.Now that I have regained the strength to speak, I try to explain to them, but I was only a boy, almost naked after my monk's robe was thrown into the flames, my face was covered with plaster, and my body was clean and hairless. The numbness caused by the cold in the morning is really hard to arouse their trust. Finally Nicholas managed to get some people into the kitchen.Someone had opened the kitchen door by then, and another, more wisely, had brought some torches.We found the kitchen in such disarray that William must have turned the place over while looking for water and vessels to hold it. Just then William appeared at the door of the restaurant, his eyebrows were scorched, his clothes were smoking, and he was holding a large pot in his hand.My sympathy welled up, but I felt helpless.I knew that even if he carried water upstairs instead of throwing it away, and even if he ran back and forth many times, he probably couldn't save the fire.I remembered St. Augustine's story of seeing a boy scoop sea water with a gourd root.The child was an angel, and he did it to amuse the saint who wanted to know the mysteries of nature. William was like that angel, he leaned wearily against the doorknob and said to me: "It can't be helped, we can't put out the fire, even if all the monks in the monastery come to help. The library is gone. After all, he is not like an angel, and he couldn't help crying after speaking. I hugged him and he pulled the tablecloth over me.We stopped there, very discouraged, and looked around. There was chaos in front of my eyes.People run up the winding staircase empty-handed, meeting others who are also descending empty-handed.Driven by curiosity, they ran upstairs, and now they have to come down to get water.Some of the wiser ones immediately started looking for basins and pots, only to realize that there simply wasn't enough water in the kitchen.Suddenly, the cowherd drove the mule into the big room, and unloaded the large water tank from the mule's back.But they did not know where to go upstairs to the office, and it was some time before some of the scribes told them.They went upstairs and immediately stumbled downstairs again, terrified.The water tanks were broken, and the water flowed all over the place, although some of the tanks had been passed upstairs by the braver.I followed them to carry water and went upstairs to the office.Puffs of smoke rolled down from the passageway of the library.The last few who had tried to go up to the eastern tower had come down, coughing and red-eyed, announcing that breaking into that purgatory was impossible. That's when I saw Benno.He carried a large basin of water and climbed up from downstairs, his face twisted.He heard the words of the people coming down from upstairs and attacked them: "Hell will swallow you all, Rufu!" He turned around, as if asking for help, and saw me. "Adesso," he called, "library... library..." Without waiting for my answer, he rushed to the bottom of the stairs and plunged bravely into the smoke.That was the last time I saw him. I heard a crack from above, and stones mixed with plaster fell from the ceiling of the office.The keystone of the vaulted ceiling, carved in the shape of a flower, fell loose and nearly hit me on the head.The floor of the maze is broken. I rushed downstairs and went straight outside.Some servants brought ladders and tried to climb from the outside to the upstairs window and lift the water up.But the highest ladder reaches only as high as the office window, and the person who climbs it cannot open the window from the outside.They sent word that someone else should open the window from the inside, but at this juncture, no one dared to go upstairs anymore. I looked up at the attic window.The whole library was now a smoking furnace, with flames racing from room to room, racing swiftly through the dry parchment.All the windows were brightly lit, and a puff of black smoke rose from the roof, and the fire had reached the beams.The cathedral, which seemed to be extremely strong, exposed its weakness in this situation. For a long time, its walls have corroded from the inside, and the scattered stones have allowed the flames to burn all the wood parts at will. Suddenly, some windows seemed to be forced by internal forces, burst and shattered, and sparks flew outside, dotting the dark night sky.The wind had died down a bit, which was unfortunate, because a strong wind might have blown out the sparks, but the lesser wind would have only made them burn more and carried them about.Just then there was a loud explosion: part of the floor of the labyrinth gave way, and the burning beams must have followed it to the floor of the next story.Now I see the blazing flames in the office, where books and papers are also scattered, and naturally the fire will be out of control once it breaks out.I heard the miserable cries of a group of scribes, tearing their hair in agony, trying to go upstairs to save their beloved manuscripts. Impossible, the kitchen and dining room have become chaotic intersections, people rushing in from all directions, shoulder to shoulder.Everyone bumped into a ball and fell to the ground. Those who were holding the basin splashed all the water in the basin.The mule who was led into the kitchen sensed the fire and rushed out of the fire, knocking down several people, even the groom was ignored.Evidently, this group of wise, pious, but unskilled people blocked the possibility of rescue when no one directed them. The whole monastery is in chaos, but this is only the beginning of the tragedy.The flames of victory continued to shoot out from the windows and the roof, and with the help of the wind, they burst down in all directions, and finally touched the roof of the chapel.Everyone knows that the grandest cathedrals are also the most vulnerable to fire.The House of God looks as rich and strong as the holy city of Jerusalem due to the stones displayed on the exterior, but the walls and ceilings are supported by fragile beams, and the columns of the church are usually towering like a forest of oaks Spectacular and solid - in fact most of the columns are really oak, plus many of the trimmings are also wood, altars, seats, panels with painted books, benches, candlesticks, and this chapel is certainly no exception , although its beautiful gate fascinated me when I first arrived.It was not long before the chapel was on fire.By this time, everyone understood that the fate of the entire monastery was at stake, and began to run more realistically, and the situation only became more chaotic. Speaking of which, the chapel has more passages and is easier to defend than the library. The secrecy of the library predestined its own destiny.The chapel is always open because of the continuous prayer time.But by this time the stored water had been used up, and the few remaining wells, in this case, were nothing but a drop in the bucket, not enough for the needs.The fire in the chapel should have been extinguished by a collective effort, but no one knew how to do it at the moment.What's more, the fire burns from above. It is not easy to climb to such a high place to fight the fire with soil or rags on your shoulders.When the fire reached below, it was impossible to put it out with sand, because the ceiling collapsed and even crushed several firefighters. Thus, the sighs of lament at the burning of so many riches were now joined by cries of pain as faces were burned, limbs were crushed, and bodies were buried under the sudden collapse of the vaulted roof. The wind was strong again, which just fueled the fire and spread the flames.Immediately after the chapel, the barn and stables were also on fire.Frightened animals rushed out of the fence, kicked down the gate, and ran wildly. Cows, sheep, horses, and pigs neighed and hooted, and sparks jumped to the manes of many horses. Through everything they pass, there is no goal and no rest.I saw old Alinardo wandering in a dazed bewilderment, only to be knocked down by Brunelles with his mane on fire, dragged for a while on the ground, and left in the courtyard, a sad shapeless mass .But I have no way or time to save him, or mourn his end, because similar scenes can be seen everywhere. ※Bandhammer Academy's E-Book※ The ignited horses carried the flames where the wind had not yet carried them, and the foundry was ablaze, and the novice's dormitory was not spared.Groups of people running around with no aim or purpose.I saw Nicholas, wounded in the head and torn in his frock, kneeling in the passage before the gate, cursing loudly.I saw Pacificus, abandoning the rescue work, trying to catch a mad mule, and when he succeeded, he shouted to me to follow his example and run for my life. I wondered where William had gone, fearing that he would be crushed under the collapsed wall.After searching for a while, I found him near the corridor.He had his travel bag in hand, and when the flames reached the Pilgrim's quarters, he rushed to his room to salvage at least his most precious possessions.He brought my luggage down too, and I scrambled for a piece of clothing to put on.We stopped, panting, and looked around. The fate of the monastery is beyond doubt.Almost all buildings have been affected by fire, some larger and some smaller.The few houses that haven't burned down won't last long either.Because now everything is destined to be Zhu Rong's feast.Only the part without buildings is still safe, the tea garden, the garden outside the corridor... It is impossible to fight the fire. Once we gave up the idea of ​​fighting the fire, we stood in an open and safe place and watched everything. We watched the slowly burning chapel, because after the entire wooden part of the building had blazed up, the flames usually lingered for hours, sometimes days.The cathedral fire was not the same, the flames quickly spread to the kitchen due to the combustibles everywhere.As for the attic, a labyrinth had stood for centuries, but now it was completely destroyed. "It was once the greatest library in Christendom," said William, "and now the Antichrist is really at hand, for no learning can hold him back, and we have seen his face this evening, after all. gone." I asked in astonishment, "Whose face?" "I mean George. In that face distorted by hatred of philosophy, I saw for the first time the portrait of the Antichrist. He was not from the tribe of Judah, or from a distant land. False Christs may be born of piety itself, of excessive love for God or truth, as pagans are often born of saints and prophets. Fear the prophets, Adso, and he who is ready to die for the truth People, for they routinely cause others to die with them, usually before them, and sometimes in their place. George has done a diabolical scandal, because he loves his truth pervertedly, so in order to destroy falsehood would do anything. George was afraid of Aristotle's second book because it might really teach how to twist the face of every truth so we don't become slaves to our own ghosts. Maybe, It is the task of those who love mankind to make men laugh at truth, to 'make truth ridiculous' and the only truth is to learn to free ourselves from our mad passion for truth. " "But, sir," I said sadly, "you say that now because your heart is wounded. Anyway, you have discovered a truth tonight, and that is the thread you have been unraveling over the past few days. And got it. George won, but you uncovered his plot, so you beat him..." "There was no conspiracy," William said, "and I discovered it by mistake." His statement contradicts himself, and I don't know if William did it on purpose. "But the marks in the snow lead you to surmise that Brunelles was real," I said, "and Adelmo really killed himself, and Venantius didn't really drown in a vat. Yes, the labyrinth is really arranged in the way you imagine, and you really have to touch the word 'cquatuor' to enter the 'End of Africa', and the mysterious book is really written by Aristotle... I can Mention many true things, which you have discovered with the help of your knowledge..." "I have never doubted, Adso, the appearances of truth, which are the only evidence by which man can guide himself in this world. What I do not understand is the relationship between these appearances. Through the pattern of the Revelation Tracked down Jorge, the pattern seemed to underlie all crimes, however that was just a coincidence. I figured out Jorge by looking for a single culprit for all the crimes, and we found out that each crime was committed by a different person, or none Man. I found George after a plan devised by a rational and perverted mind, and there was no plan, or rather, George was subdued by his own original design, and there was a chain of causes, And these causes contradict each other and progress independently, resulting in a relationship that does not form any plan. In this way, what intelligence and wisdom do I have? I have always been stubborn and pursued the superficial order, but in fact I should understand that in There is no order in this world at all.” "But in imagining a false order, you still find something..." "You said it very well, Adso, and I want to thank you. The order that our mind imagines, like a net, or a ladder, is built to get something. But then you have to throw the ladder away. Open, because you find that even if it is useful, it is still meaningless. Er muor ge-lichesame die leiter abewerfen, so er an ir ufgetigen... Is that what you said?" "That's our language. Who told you that?" "A mystic in your country. He wrote somewhere, I forget what. It doesn't matter if no one ever finds that manuscript again. The only truth that works is an instrument that will be thrown away .” "You have no reason to blame yourself, you have tried your best." "Try one's power, but that is very limited. It is very difficult to accept the concept that there can be no order in the world, because that is contrary to the free will and omnipotent power of God. Therefore God's freedom is our sin declaration, at least our proud declaration." I—for the first and last time in my life—had rushed to a theological conclusion: "But how can a man who exists 'necessarily' be completely polluted by the 'possible'? What, then, is God to primordial chaos?" The difference? Doesn't affirming God's absolute omnipotence and absolute freedom mean that God doesn't exist?" William looked at me blankly and said, "If a scholar answers yes to your question, how can he continue to convey his knowledge?" I did not understand what he meant, so I asked, "Do you mean that without evidence of truth, it is impossible to communicate knowledge. Or do you mean that you can no longer communicate what you know, Because other people won’t allow you to do this?” ※Bandhammer Academyの重学E Book※ At this moment, part of the roof of the dormitory collapsed, making a loud bang, and a ball of sparks rushed into the sky.Some sheep and goats wandered past us in the clearing, whining in terror.A group of servants also ran past us, shouting so loudly that they nearly knocked us down. "It's such a mess here," William said. "In the riots, nothing needs to be said."