Brother Cyril shook his head
"I must explain myself more carefully," he said. "Let me ask you, in the
first place, what is the most serious thing in the world."
"Religion."
"Exactly. Now, what is religion? The consummation of the soul by itself in
divine ecstasy. What is life but love, and what is love but laughter? In other
words, religion is a joke. There is the spirit of Dionysus and there is the spirit
of Pan; but they are twin phases of laughter. Religion is a joke. Now what is
the most absurd thing in the world?"
"Woman."
"Right again. And therefore she is the only serious island in this ocean of
laughter. While we hunt and fish, and fight, and otherwise take our pleasure,
she is toiling in the fields and cooking, and bearing children. So, all the
serious words are jests, [213] and all the jokes are earnest. This, oh my
brother, is the key to my light and sparkling conversation."
"But — "
"I know what you are going to say. You can reverse it again. That is
precisely the idea. You keep on reversing it; and it gets funnier and more
serious every time, and it spins faster and faster until you cannot follow it,
and your brain begins to whirl, and presently you become That Spiral Force
which is of the Quintessence of the Absolute. So it is all a simple and easy
method of attaining the summit of perfections, the stone of the Wise, True
Wisdom and Perfect Happiness."
"Listening to you," reflected Brother Onofrio, with a whisk of the rapier,
"produces something of this effect!"
"Then praise the Father of All for making me, and let us go to break our
fast!"
In the refectory a telegram awaited Cyril Grey. He read it carefully,
destroyed it, and, looking with quaint spieglish eyes at Brother Onofrio,
refrained ostentatiously from a prolonged fit of laughter. His face grew
exceedingly grave, and he spoke with the weightiest deliberation. "I deeply
regret to be obliged to inform you," he said at last, "that the exigencies of the
situation combine to make it incumbent on me to proceed to instant action by
asking you to pass the sugar."
With sullen grace Brother Onofrio complied. "What saith the  Scripture?"
asked Cyril, still more portentous. "Ornithi gluku — a little bit of sugar for
the bird!" [214]