«...Иисус Наставник, помилуй нас!»

Now Antony had confidence. It became clear to him that the "Roman" danger and the "Roman" evil had lost their power for him, God's help was with him, he found himself in a place of grace, in a distant city, where Christianity flourished and where the holy power dwelt (the only obstacle to inclusion in this life, according to the monk's soul, was his ignorance of the Russian language, although now Anthony had a guide to this language). The decision ripened at once — And the monk went into the city to pray to Saint Sophia the Wisdom of God and to see the great saint Nicetas. The first impression of the city was the most favorable (And seeing the splendor of the church, and the rite, and the dignity of bishop, he rejoiced in his soul, and prayed and went about everywhere), but only the first of the plans was fulfilled: the tongue, its ignorance, again tripped up, which was to providentially remind the monk again of the language, of the new task — the need to assimilate it. Comprehension of this task and, apparently, the choice already made in his soul, after examining him and praying in St. Sophia, forced Anthony to refuse an immediate meeting with St. Nicetas (the monk had not yet appeared to St. Nicetas at that time, since he had not yet learned the Slovene and Russian language and custom). And again Anthony puts his hopes in God: he returns to himself, and for the time being his place of residence is the same saving stone-foundation (for the Christian Church also stands on the rock of Peter), where he began... praying..., standing day and night, that God would reveal the Russian language to him. And God heard and again, responding to the call, came to the rescue, again concealing His participation: the new miracle was framed as something natural, ordinary, everyday, and everything happened as if it were not Anthony who needed people, but people needed Anthony. And there began to come to him the people and citizens living nearby, for the sake of prayers and blessings, and by God's providence the monk soon began to understand and speak in the Russian language from them. The mastery of the language happened, it seems, quickly. But even now, in answer to people's questions about the fatherland and what land is born and raised, and about its coming, the monk in no way told them about himself, calling himself a sinner. Of course, one can think that Anthony feared complications for himself in "anti-Roman" Novgorod if people learned about his "Roman" origin. But this was hardly the main thing. Rather, Anthony proceeded from two considerations: in fact, he considered his sinfulness to be the main thing in himself (this was his name: calling himself a sinner), and he declared it openly and emphatically, but in addition he saw in his salvation the miraculous intervention of God's will, and in his modesty, humility and awareness of his own unworthiness he considered it impossible to reveal this secret of his. And later, when Anthony revealed this secret to Nicetas, in response to his urgent request, he fell down before the saint on his face and wept bitterly, and beseeched the saint, that he would not tell this mystery to anyone, until the monk in this life; and this mystery was told in one, all in a row; the second to whom Anthony told his secret was his disciple Andrew; This was done just before the death of the monk: to conceal the secret, which now should become a secret not about himself, but about God and only about God, about his miracles, he no longer had the right, and Andrew had to inform people about it: and the monk saw his departure to God, calling me and calling me his spiritual father, and confessed well with tears; And the monk told my wretchedness about his coming from Rome, and about the stone, and about the wooden vessel, about the barrel [...] and commanded me to write all this after my repose, and to give it to the church of God, to those who read and obey for the crawling of the soul, and for the correction of good deeds...

The rumor about Anthony and his virtues reached Saint Nicetas when the monk had already mastered the Russian language and nothing prevented their meeting. And it was not only a matter of hearing (there were so many of them!): the hearing was only an approximate reflection of the holy essence which, before seeing Anthony, Nikita, who undoubtedly possessed visionary abilities, felt. As already mentioned, the monk immediately after meeting with the "Greek Gothfin" and praying in Hagia Sophia, apparently in a state of some euphoric impulse, went to St. Nicetas in order to see him. He went, but did not reach it, apparently ashamed in his heart of this impulse and as if remembering that he, Anthony, knew neither the Russian language nor Russian customs. And he returned to his stone. When Anthony began to understand Russian speech and learned to speak in Russian, Saint Nicetas, as if by intuition, understood that the right moment for the meeting had come. The first initiative of the meeting belonged to Antony, but it did not end in anything. Now the initiative was taken by the saint himself, who sent for Anthony. Anthony experienced two opposite feelings when the messenger led him to the saint – fear and joy (having been in the cmpax in the majesty, he was also possessed with joy): fear – from natural timidity, shyness, and even more from the premonition that inevitably the conversation would have to touch on what constituted the mystery of Anthony; joy — from the upcoming meeting with the saint, the head and pastor of the entire flock of Christians of Novgorod the Great. Religious interests stood for Anthony above everything else, the thirst for spiritual communion was great, and he believed that it would be quenched when he met with the saint. And now Anthony is with him. A prayer has been created. With fear and love, the blessing of the saint was accepted, as if from God's hand. The meeting was heated and emotional. On the part of Anthony – joy and love, on the part of the saint – striving for Anthony, the essence of which was immediately revealed to him, and the saint, having foreseen by the Holy Spirit about the monk, and began to ask him – about the same things about which Anthony was asked by the people who met the monk on the morning of the first day, and by the "Greek Gothin". It seems that the answers to these questions, at least in a general form, the saint knew or could have known from the rumor about Anthony that had reached him. Did the saint want to verify the authenticity of these answers or to hear them directly and personally from the mouth of the monk himself? — Quite possibly. But it seems that he had another, more distant goal. Perhaps he sensed the presence of mystery and Anthony's unwillingness to reveal the mysteries, for the sake of human glory.

That is why the saint is so persistent, offensive and almost threatening — Saint Nicetas with a great rebuke, and also with an exorcism, questioning the monk, and saying: "Shall I, brother, not hang up my mysteries?" and that God hath revealed to our humility concerning thee; but thou shalt receive disobedience from God. Anthony fell on his face, wept bitterly and besought the saint not to reveal this secret to anyone. And to him, the saint, he revealed everything about himself, as in spirit. Nicetas's persistence was for good: listening to Anthony's story, he did not think of him as a man, but as an angel of God, and rising from his place and laying down the pastor's staff, and for many hours he prayed and marveled at what was there, as God glorifies His servant. The discharge of tension was stormy and touching — Saint Nicetas fell to the ground before the monk, asking for blessing and prayer from him; The monk fell to the ground before the saint [...] And both lay on the ground and wept, smearing the ground with tears for many hours, asking each other's blessing and prayers.

The figure of St. Nicetas in the "Legend" is very important. He was the first to recognize the great gift of Anthony, with which he had been vouchsafed by God, and in the miracle of his transfer to Novgorod he recognized a kind of repetition of the miracle of Elijah the Tezbite or the apostles, who were brought to the clouds for the dormition of the Most-Pure Mother of God. Nikita regarded the miraculous arrival of Anthony in Novgorod as a sign of divine attention to the city, its marking: "Thus and our city the Lord hath swept thee, blessed and betrayed the newly-enlightened people with Thy saint. Some time later, Bishop Nikita himself visited Anthony. He stepped down from the stone and went to meet him. The saint walked around the place of the village of that village, as if he saw it in a broad perspective, in which the past and the future are united, the miracle of the "first times" (hardly by chance, having learned about the miracle of Anthony about the Mother of God, Nicetas remembered the miracle of the apostles, carried by air to the dormition of the Virgin Mary) and the miracle of "this day", and made his choice, guessing to them the destiny of Anthony and, perhaps his secret desire. God and the Most-Pure Mother of God willed, – he said to the monk, – and having chosen this place, he desires that by thy venerability a church of the Most-Pure Mother of God of her honorable and glorious nativity be erected, and that there should be a great monastery for the salvation of me; Wherefore on the eve of the feast of that feast God hath set Me in this place. The Most-Pure Mother of God, Anthony and this place in the land of Novgorod seemed to come together, and Saint Nicetas sealed this event only with his own word. But Nicetas, although he had heard of the miracles and fearing temptation, nevertheless decided once more to verify what his visionary feeling so convincingly told him: he went around the villagers one by one and asked them about the appearance of the monk at that place. And their opinion was in accord with the feeling of the saint: he unanimously decided: in truth, more holy than God, this man of God was brought by water on a stone. The heart of the saint was kindled with spiritual love for Anthony, and he blessed the monk and withdrew to his own courtyard at Hagia Sophia. But he had already made an internal decision and it was only necessary to think over the practical details.

How this decision of St. Nicetas was carried out is described in a very short (only four phrases) chapter of the "Tale" entitled "On the Conception of the Most Holy Theotokos of the Anthony Monastery in Great Novegrad", the most historically reliable and verifiable part of the "Antony" text. The brevity of this chapter gives it a tinge of efficiency, composure, and documentary. Saint Nicetas sent for the posadniks John and Prokofii, Ivan's children. My children, tell me," he turns to them, "there is in your patronymic a village near the city, the river Volkhov. God and the Most-Pure Mother of God willed to be erected in this place to the church of the Most-Pure Mother of God of Her honorable and glorious Nativity, to build her monastery with this strange Monk Anthony, and a prayer will be sent up to God for the salvation of your souls, and the remembrance will be your parent. Having listened to the saint with love, the posadniks built land for the church and under the monastery for all the countries of fifty fathoms. On this land Nicetas commanded to build a small church made of wood, and to consecrate it and to place a single cell as a refuge. One has to be surprised at how simply, practically, taking into account the interests of all interested parties, the problem was solved. At this stage, Anthony is somewhat pushed aside, although his role is undeniable; however, it manifests itself in a different plane: his miraculous vision of the Most Pure and his personal holiness are the seed that is to bear fruit, already visible to all, material, on the soil of harsh realities.

The "Roman" theme in the Novgorod reality arises once again in the chapter designated as "The Miracle of Our Venerable and God-bearing Father Anthony the Roman on the Finding of the Vessel of the Delva, that is, the Barrel, with the Venerable Monk's Estate." In particular, it contains the best description in the "Tale" of an episode from everyday Novgorod life. Life prose and miracle surprisingly naturally coexist with each other. The following happened. Immersed in concern for the well-being of the house of the Most-Pure Mother of God, Anthony after morning prayer goes to the fishermen (fishermen) and, offering them a grivna of silver, asks them to cast their nets into the Volkhov — and if you have anything, then into the house of the Most-Pure Mother of God. Fishermen, who worked unsuccessfully all night long and caught nothing, tired (only exhausted), not believing in luck, did not want to do this. The monk begged them to heed his request, and they finally agreed. The result was beyond all expectations — they [...] threw the man into the river into the Volkhov and brought a multitude of great fish to the shore, through the prayers of the saint; The darkness was almost overwhelmed, as if it were Nikoli Yasha. This was the first miracle - "small". But there was also the second, the "great" one, which determined much in what directly concerned the Anthony Monastery. This "great" miracle reminded us for the last time of Rome and the "Roman" heritage, so graciously used in Novgorod: he also took out a vessel of wood, a delva, and this barrel was bound everywhere with iron hoops. Anthony blessed the fishermen — my child! see the mercy of God: how God provides for his servants; And I bless you, and give you fish; and a vessel for himself in the ground [...] since God entrusted him for the creation of a monastery. But immediately there was a serious complication - a conflict between the fishermen who caught the delva and Antony. Hate the good devil, although he will do evil to the monk, strike and harden the heart with the cunning of those fishers, and they began to offer the monk fish, and they wanted to appropriate the barrel for themselves (and our barrel exists), and also with cruel words annoying and reproaching the monk. Refusing to argue and quarrel (my lords, I have no imam with you about this), Anthony suggested that the fishermen go to the judges of the city (for the judge is ordained by God, and the people of God reason). The fishermen, apparently confident of success, willingly agreed, went with Anthony to court and began to confront him. The first word belonged to the monk. He set forth the subject of the dispute and in conclusion substantiated his rights to the barrel – this barrel God entrusted to me for the creation of a monastery of our Most-Pure Lady Theotokos and the Ever-Virgin Mary. The judge asked the fishermen to answer him, "Is it so, as the elder said?" They also lied when justifying their rights to the barrel - ... but our barrel is; Wherefore we are cast into this water to keep for ourselves. Anticipating a difficult situation in which the judge could find himself, the monk suggests that he ask the fishermen what is inside the barrel. The fishermen are at a loss what to answer to this. In order not to prolong the uncertainty and to come to a final decision as soon as possible, alleviating the situation of all, Anthony announces the history of this barrel and its contents: this barrel of our frailty, given to the water in Rome by our sinful hands, and the enclosure in the barrel is the vessels of the church of gold and silver and crystal, chalices and dishes, and many other consecrated things of the church, And gold and silver from the possessions of my parents, and this treasure thrown into the sea for the sake of guilt, lest the sacred vessels be defiled by the heretics of God, and by the demonic sacrifices of the everlasting, and the signatures on the vessels written in the Roman language. Of course, the barrel was opened, all its contents, which Antony told about, were found and given to him, the fishermen left in shame.

But this episode, interesting in itself, plays the role of a double motivation as part of the whole: the succession of the "Roman" heritage by Novgorod and the now possible erection of a stone church and the beginning of the construction of the monastery (it is worth paying attention to the "stone" theme of the "Legend" in connection with the monk: the saving stone that brought Anthony by sea from the "Roman country" to Novgorod became the only house of the saint in the new place, and he stubbornly refused all other offers to move to a new home, until it became possible to turn the newly acquired "Roman" estate into a stone church and monastery, which henceforth became his permanent home until his death). Joyful, offering thanks to God, Anthony went to Saint Nicetas, and the latter, having given much praise to God about this and having judged with his prudent reasoning, turned to Anthony, once again formulating the idea of the "Roman-Novgorodian" succession with his characteristic clarity and large-scale vision: Venerable Anthony! For God hath set thee by the waters on the stones of Rome the Saviour in Great Novehrad, and also give thee the barrel which was cast in Rome, that thou mayest erect a church of the stone of the Most-Pure Mother of God, and that thou mayest build the monastery. A little later, the same idea is repeated once again, when the activities of Anthony are summed up — ... building everything from a barrel, when God set it from Rome on the waters in Great Novehrad, and sweating and toiling.

This addition – both sweat and labor – is very significant, because after the discovery of the "Roman" barrel in the Volkhov waters in Novgorod, labor as construction, economic activity, prudent care for the brethren and gathering them, in a word, organization, but also love, moving everything, became the most important component of Anthony's activity. The "Legend" also informs about the location of the acquired treasure for the time being in the sacristy (for observance), and about the beginning of construction, and about the purchase of land near the monastery and fishing (for the needs of the monastery), and about the establishment of the boundaries of the monastery territory, and about the legal registration of this act (and demarcated the boundaries, gave the letter, and wrote in his spiritual charter). Summing up this period of Anthony's life, the compiler of the Life writes: "He began to labor unceasingly all day long, and applying labor to labor, and at night without sleep, standing on a stone and praying [...] And the brethren began to tidy up to the monk. And he received it with love. The reserved and "suffering" monk was replaced by an active, calculating, clearly seeing perspective leader, with whom he was always at his side, even in difficult earthworks, St. Nikita (... measure the place of the church [...] begin to put the church in your honest hands and dig). With pride and love, the author of the "Tale" tells about all the stages of the construction and growth of the monastery: and the church was laid in stone, and God made it, and the signatures decorated it with all kinds of decorations, the images and vessels of the church with gold and silver, and vestments, and divine books [...], as befitting the church of God; And then he laid the table of stone [...], and built the cells, and built the fence, and established with all the abundance of good, as in the year. And it is especially emphasized that all this was done at his own expense, on the "Roman" estate: the monk did not accept the estate from anyone, neither from the prince, nor from the bishop, nor from the nobles of the city, but only a blessing from the miracle-maker Nikita the bishop, but built everything from this barrel, even from Rome [...].

Anthony's further activity, although it takes much longer than that which has been discussed so far, is much less elucidated in the Tale. In fact, everything has already been said: the monastery is founded, built and flourishes, the brethren grow, spend their lives in righteous labors and prayers, the "Roman" Anthony has long since become Novgorodian, Russian. There remains to be said a few things that relate more to the life of the monk himself than to the theme of the "Roman-Novgorodian" and even more so Italian-Russian meetings.

Nicetas died, and this death was grieved by Anthony (the monk was in great sorrow and in tears over the repose of Saint Nicetas; for great was the spiritual counsel that had among themselves). The monastery continued to expand (to begin to expand, as it is said in the "Legend"). There was a need to elect an abbot, and Anthony began to consult with the brethren. Many of those who could become hegumen were consulted, and did not find such a person. There were no disagreements among the brethren – only Anthony should become hegumen. For this they all asked him: we beseech thee, hearken unto us beggars, that thou mayest receive the priestly rank, that thou mayest also be an abbot, that thou mayest offer an honest sacrifice to God, bloodless for our sin, that thy sacrifice may be acceptable to God in the most heavenly altar; For we know a little of thy labors and feats in this place, for a man can bear so many labors in the flesh, unless the Lord helps. Anthony said that he was unworthy of this choice (I am unworthy of a great rank), and he proposed to choose from among the brethren a man of good faith and worthy of such a cause. Brethren with tears – Holy Father, do not listen to us poor, but save us! Anthony agreed to act according to the will of God. God will, he said, whatever God wills, He will do it. Anthony and the brethren went to Niphon, who at that time occupied the episcopal throne (characteristic is the omission of Archbishop John Popian, who occupied the throne for twenty years, see the 1st New Years, under the years 1100 and 1130: Archbishop John came to Novgorod in the month of December on the 20th and in the same summer the Archbishop John of Novagorod departed; cf. Khoroshev 1980, 23–25, etc.). Niphon supported the choice of the brethren, for he loved the monk for his great virtue. Anthony was ordained a deacon, then a priest, and finally an abbot. During the 16 years of his abbotship, he fell into the flock of Christ. There is not a word about these years in the "Tale". On the other hand, the voice of Andrew is heard more clearly, telling that before his death the monk revealed his secret to him (see above), and about what Anthony said to the brethren immediately before his death. A prayer, a few words about the burial of Anthony, in which Niphon participated with a multitude of the people of that city, with candles, and with candila, with psalms, and stumps, and spiritual songs, the order of Niphon to set forth the life of the monk and the already mentioned curse by the Romans, who had departed from the Orthodox Greek faith and had been converted into the Latin faith, complete the "Tale".

* * *

Whether the compiler of Antony's Life believed that his hero was really a Roman, or whether he simply felt and understood that it was in the spirit of the times to consider Anthony a Roman, that invention and improvisation were not a sin, and that the end justified the means, remains not fully known. And, to tell the truth, and in a fairly broad perspective, not so important. If the compiler of the "Life" believed in the Roman origin of Antony, it means that this opinion was firmly rooted in rumor, became its legitimate property, and vox populi — vox Dei and rumor is not judged — especially since in this case it is probably of a venerable age. And they do not judge not only because it is "popular" and/or "God's", but also because rumor itself is always on the verge of true and untrue, genuine and inauthentic, past and non-existent, that it lives by this uncertainty, moreover, that this is a condition of its existence, and for this reason alone rumor cannot be called to judgment. If the idea of making Anthony a Roman arose consciously, for the sake of a certain concept or mood or fashion, then it is unlikely that the author of the Tale was its inventor: the compilation of a Life is too responsible and complex a thing to be based on such an unexpected invention (it is another matter that the Life can legitimize and make "official" a version that has already been circulating). Be that as it may, in this case, too, the "guilty" lived until the compilation of the Life of Anthony. And in the sixteenth century, Anthony was already well known as a Roman in Novgorod and, at least partially, outside of it, which is confirmed by other sources, apparently independent of the Tale. Moreover, even cases of apparent dependence on the "Life", as, for example, the icons of Anthony the Roman, beginning in the 16th century (cf. the icon from the collection of A. S. Uvarov or the icon from the collection of I. S. Ostroukhov, see Antonova-Mneva 1963, NoNo 369, 611, etc.) and reproducing the most diagnostically important motifs (Anthony on a stone, Anthony against the background of a monastery, or offering a church to the Mother of God), in principle, they can rely on sources common to them and to the "Legend" [in connection with the icons depicting Anthony the Roman, it is appropriate to assume that he himself was gifted aesthetically, and this was manifested not only in the mystical plane (the contemplation of the Most-Pure Mother of God by the intelligent eyes as a kind of "intelligent" drawing), but also in a completely practical one — in the decoration of the church: ... and the signature adorned it with all kinds of adornment..., as befitting the church of God, cf. above]. But even if the one who was the first, so to speak, to connect the "Roman" theme with the historical Anthony of the twelfth century were known exactly, then his "guilt" is by and large very relative. The tribute to history, as far as can be judged from the fact that it is verifiable, is generously given, in the small space of the text a number of unconditional historical figures are collected, placed in a sequence of which there is no reason to doubt. But no description that claims to depict the "historical" can, firstly, be complete and, secondly, completely free from the evaluation associated with the distance between the present day in which the describer finds himself and the day that is described (this time gap always inevitably leads to a kind of attraction, and the task is not to avoid or neutralize them, but to to understand them as an expression of the situation describing, if you will, the measures of its "subjectivity"). "He-continuity" and "subjectivity" are always present in historical description and cannot be ignored, and not as a necessary evil, but as a conditio sine qua non of a description that claims to be truly historic. In this context, it becomes clear that the historian, with the most resolute emphasis on the strictness of description, on factographic, on "objectivity", always has the freedom of conjecture, compositional construction, motivations, meaningful interpretation, etc. It is only important to realize that the measure of this freedom must be known to the describer himself, and that this measure is different in different epochs and in different traditions. An author of the sixteenth century or an even earlier period, who combined Anthony with the "Roman" theme, should hardly be considered a greater "fantasist" for his time (adjusted for the genre of the hagiography, in which the "historical" is only a co-present principle) than Karamzin for the beginning of the nineteenth century, who, according to the recognition of authoritative historians of our century, was nevertheless in many respects "historically" more accurate than Solovyov and Klyuchevsky precisely because that he was fully aware of "his" contribution to historical description, of "his" disturbing role as a describer.

Of course, it is very unlikely that Antony was Italian, although this possibility should not be completely ruled out. The argument according to which the definition of Anthony the Roman appears only in the sixteenth century does not have the force of absolute proof and, moreover, is generally doubtful: rumor, oral tradition, in particular the "grassroots", could have known Anthony as a Roman much earlier, and it was the "popularity" and "orality" of this tradition that could prevent the appearance of Anthony the Roman in written texts for a long time. Probably, the point of view according to which Anthony could be called a Roman on the grounds that he, a Russian man, a Novgorod merchant, traveled or sailed to Italy, perhaps even visited Rome (an exceptional event at that time, but not subject to complete exclusion) or some other country of the "Roman" ("Latin") faith. In old Russian texts, representatives of other peoples of Western Europe were often called "Latins" ("Romans"). Having visited Rome or the "Roman-Latins" in the broad sense and returned to his homeland, he could well be called "Roman" as a proper name (in our century after the First World War, many people who returned from German captivity were called, sometimes not without irony, according to the model of Vaska the German, etc.; in part, the same definition often "stuck" to the name of a proper person, immoderately fond of something foreign, cf. in the XVIII century the model "proper name (Russian) & French", etc.; cf. one of Pushkin's Lyceum nicknames).