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The Alchemist, v. 1, issue 5, February 1941
Page 6
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6 ---- ALCHEMIST ---- herbs. He gropes his way along, trying to see it in the half-darkness, though the veils of acrid smoke which sear his eyes. The chapel is dimly lit by sanctuary lamps suspended from gilded chandeliers; pink glass pendants ornament them. Hyacinthe motions him to be seated while she goes over to a group already assembled; Durtal notes, ere she returns, that the women present far outnumbered the men. He cannot make out their faces as they are hooded, and the accursed smoke drowns out what feeble light emanates from the lamps. The conversation is in whispers, and seems to be grave in tone. At length a choir boy, garbed in red, proceeds to the end of the chapel, lighting a stand of candles. The altar is now visible; it is an ordinary Catholic Church altar on a tabernacle, above which stands a Christ. But this Christ is altered; the head has been raised, the neck lengthened, and wrinkles worked into the face so that it's expression is bestial. The chalice, covered with a pall, is placed in front of the tabernacle: now the choir boy folds the altar cloth, wriggles his haunches, stand tiptoe on one foot, flipping his arms as if to fly away like a cherub, as he lights the black tapers. The scent of coal tar and pitch is now added to the stench in this stuffy room. Durtal recognizes this choir boy as the fairy who guarded the chapel entrance; he understands at once the role reserved for this man, whose sacrilegious nastiness is substituted for the purity of childhood, acceptable to the church. Then another choir boy, hollow-chested and withered, similarly made up with grease paint and cosmetics, hobbles about, joining the first. Hyacinthe tells Durtal that the incense is as [salt?] from the street, leaves of henbane, da[illegible], dried nightshade, and myrrh. These are the perfumes delighted to Satan,
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6 ---- ALCHEMIST ---- herbs. He gropes his way along, trying to see it in the half-darkness, though the veils of acrid smoke which sear his eyes. The chapel is dimly lit by sanctuary lamps suspended from gilded chandeliers; pink glass pendants ornament them. Hyacinthe motions him to be seated while she goes over to a group already assembled; Durtal notes, ere she returns, that the women present far outnumbered the men. He cannot make out their faces as they are hooded, and the accursed smoke drowns out what feeble light emanates from the lamps. The conversation is in whispers, and seems to be grave in tone. At length a choir boy, garbed in red, proceeds to the end of the chapel, lighting a stand of candles. The altar is now visible; it is an ordinary Catholic Church altar on a tabernacle, above which stands a Christ. But this Christ is altered; the head has been raised, the neck lengthened, and wrinkles worked into the face so that it's expression is bestial. The chalice, covered with a pall, is placed in front of the tabernacle: now the choir boy folds the altar cloth, wriggles his haunches, stand tiptoe on one foot, flipping his arms as if to fly away like a cherub, as he lights the black tapers. The scent of coal tar and pitch is now added to the stench in this stuffy room. Durtal recognizes this choir boy as the fairy who guarded the chapel entrance; he understands at once the role reserved for this man, whose sacrilegious nastiness is substituted for the purity of childhood, acceptable to the church. Then another choir boy, hollow-chested and withered, similarly made up with grease paint and cosmetics, hobbles about, joining the first. Hyacinthe tells Durtal that the incense is as [salt?] from the street, leaves of henbane, da[illegible], dried nightshade, and myrrh. These are the perfumes delighted to Satan,
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