[Projectapollo-announce] and sheer vanity. Why therefor

[Milone <spi...@vb...>]

Ffectionately; and, when he had prayed earnestly to God, he sent him
forth from the palace. So Nachor stepped forth with a contrite heart,
and went bounding into the depths of the desert, like as doth an hart,
and came to a den belonging to a monk that had attained to the dignity
of the priesthood, and was hiding there for fear of the pressing danger.
With a right warm heart knelt Nachor down before him, and washed his
feet with his tears, like the harlot of old, and craved holy Baptism.
The priest, full of heavenly grace, was passing glad, and did at once
begin to instruct him, as the custom is, and after many days, perfected
him with baptism in the name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the
Holy Ghost. And Nachor abode with him, always repentant of his sins, and
blessing that God who never willeth that ally should perish, but
receiveth all that turn again unto him, and lovingly accepteth the
penitent. Now on the morrow when the king heard what had befallen
Nachor, he despaired of the hopes that he once had in him: and, seeing
those wise and foolish orators of his mightily discomfited, he was at
his wits' end. Them he visited with terrible outrage and dishonour,
scourging some severely with whips of oxhide, besmearing their eyes with
soot, and casting them away from his presence. He himself began to
condemn the impotence of the gods falsely so called, although as yet he
refused to look fully at the light of Christ, for the dense cloud of
darkness, that enveloped him, still bound the eyes of his heart. Howbeit
he no longer honoured his temple-keepers, nor would he keep feasts, nor
make drink offerings to his idols, but his mind was tossed between two
opinions. On the one hand, he poured scorn on the impotence of his gods;
on the other, he dreaded the strictness of the profession of the Gospel,
and was hardly to be torn from his evil ways, being completely in
slavery to the pleasures of the body, and like a captive drawn towards
sinful lusts, and being drunken, as saith Esay, but not with wine, and
led as it were with the bridle of evil habit. While the king was thus
wrestling with two opinions, his noble and truly royal-hearted son dwelt
at peace in his palace, proving to all men by his deeds the nobility,
order and steadfastness of his nature. Theatres, horse-races, riding to
hounds, and all the vain pleasures of youth, the baits that take foolish
souls, were reckoned by him as nothing worth. But he hung