The Twilight of the Gods, and Other Tales - Richard Garnett
But one day the door of the chamber was beaten down, and his old wife came
in passionately upbraiding him.
"Sin-Woo," she cried, "thou hast not the heart of a man! Thou wouldest be
deathless, leaving me to die! I shall be laid in the grave, and thou wilt
reign with another! Wherefore have I been true to thee, if not that our
ashes might mingle at the last? Thou hoary sensualist!"
"Su-Ti," said the Emperor, with feeling, "thou dost grievously misjudge me.
I am no heartless sensualist, no butterfly sipper at the lips of beauty. Is
not my soul entirely possessed by this divine creature, whom I love with an
affection infinitely exceeding that which I have entertained for thee at
any period? And how knowest thou," added he, striving to soothe her, "that
I will not give thee to drink of the miraculous potion?"
"And keep my grey hairs and wrinkles through all time! Nay, Sin-Woo, I am
no fool like thee, and were I so, I am not in love with any youth. And know
I not that even if I would accept the boon, thou would'st never give it?"
And she rushed away in fury and hanged herself by her Imperial girdle.
Whereupon all the other wives and concubines of the Emperor did likewise,
as custom and reason prescribe. All the palace was filled with lamentation
and funerals. But the Emperor lamented not, nor turned his gaze from the
sleeper, nor did the sleeper awaken.
And his son came to him angry with exceeding wrath.
"Thou hast murdered my mother. Thou would'st rob me of the crown that is
rightfully mine. I, born to be an Emperor, shall die a subject! Nay, but I
will save thee from thyself. I will pierce thy leman with the sword, or
burn her with fire."
And the Emperor, fearing he would do as he threatened, commanded him to be
slain, as also his brothers and sisters. And he paid no heed to the affairs
of State, but gave all into the hand of the Second, now the Principal
Bonze. And the laws ceased to be observed, and rebellions broke out in the
provinces, and enemies invaded the country, and there was famine in the
land.
And now the Emperor was well-nigh ten years nearer to the gates of death
than when the Sleeping Beauty had been brought to his court. The love of
beauty was nearly quenched in him, but the longing for life grew more
intense. He became angry with the sleeper, that she awakened not, and with
his little remaining strength smote her fiercely on the cheeks, but she
gave no sign of reviving. Remembering that if he gained the potion of
immortality he would himself be plunged into a trance, he made all
preparations for the interregnum. He decreed that he was to be seated erect
on his throne, with all his imperial insignia, and it was to be death to
any one who should presume to remove any of them. His slumbering figure was
to preside at all councils, and to be consulted in every act of state, and
all ministers and officers were to do homage daily. The revived Sleeping
Beauty was to partake of the draught anew, at the same time and in the same
manner as himself, that she might awake with him, and that he might find
her charms unimpaired. All the ministers swore solemnly to observe these
regulations; firmly purposing to burn the sleeper, if sleep he ever did, at
the very first opportunity, and scatter his ashes to the winds. Then they
would fight for the Empire among themselves; each, meanwhile, was mainly
occupied in striving to gain the rebels over to his interest, insomuch that
the people grew more miserable day by day.
And as the aged Emperor waxed more and more feeble, he began to see
visions. Legions of little black imps surrounded him crying, "We are thy
sins, and would be punished--would'st thou by living for ever deprive us
of our due?" And fair female forms came veiled with drooping heads, and
murmured, "We are thy virtues, and would be rewarded--would'st thou cheat
us?" And other figures came, dark but lovely, and whispered, "We are thy
dead friends who have long waited for thee--would'st thou take to thyself
new friends, and forget us?" And others said, "We are thy memories--wilt
thou live on till we are all withered in thy heart?" And others said, "We
are thy strength and thy beauty, thy memory and thy wit--canst thou live,
knowing thou wilt never see us more?" And at last came two warders,
officers of the King of Death, and one of them was laughing. And the other
asked why he laughed, and he replied:
"I laugh at the Emperor, who thinks to escape our master, not knowing that
the moment of his decease was engraved with a pen of iron upon a rock of
adamant a million million years or ever this world was."
"And when comes it?" asked the other.
"In ten minutes," said the first.
When the Emperor heard this he was wild with terror, and tottered to the
couch on which the Sleeping Beauty lay. "Oh, awake!" he cried, "awake and
save me ere it is too late!" And, oh wonder! the sleeper stirred, and
opened her eyes.
If she had been so beautiful while sleeping, what was she when awake! But
the love of life had overcome the love of beauty in the Emperor's bosom,
and he saw not the eyes like stars, and the bloom as of peaches and lilies,
or the aspect grand and smiling as daybreak. He could only cry, "Give me
the potion, lest I die, give me the potion!"
"That cannot I," she said. "The secret was known only to my daughter."
"Who is thy daughter?"
"The hoary woman, she who slept with me in the cavern."
"That aged crone thy daughter, daughter to thee so youthful and so fresh?
"Even so," she said, "I bore her at sixteen, and slumbered for seventy
years. When I awoke she was withered and decrepit: I youthful as when I
closed my eyes. But she had learned the secret, which I never knew."
"The Bonze shall be crucified!" yelled the Emperor.
"It is too late," said she; "he is torn in pieces already."
"By whom?"
"By the multitude that are now coming to do the like unto thee."
And as she spoke the doors were burst open, and in rushed the people,
headed by the most pious Bonze in the Empire (after the late Principal
Bonze), who plunged a sword into the Emperor's breast, exclaiming:
"He who despises this life in comparison with another deserves to lose the
life which he has." Words, saith the historian Li, which have been thought
worthy to be inscribed in letters of gold in the Hall of Confucius.
And the people were crying, "Kill the sorceress!" But she looked upon them,
and they cried, "Be our Empress!"
"Remember," said she, "that ye will have to bear with me for a hundred
years!"
"Would," said they, "that it might be a hundred thousand!"
So she took the sceptre, and reigned gloriously. Among her good acts is
enumerated her toleration of the followers of Lao-tsze. Since, however,
they have ceased to be persecuted by man, it is observed that wild beasts
have lost their ancient respect for them, and devour them with no less
appetite than the members of other sects and denominations.
ABDALLAH THE ADITE
An aged hermit named Sergius dwelt in the wilds of Arabia, addicting
himself to the pursuit of religion and alchemy. Of his creed it could only
be said that it was so much better than that of his neighbours as to cause
him to be commonly esteemed a Yezidi, or devil worshipper. But the better
informed deemed him a Nestorian monk, who had retired into the wilderness
on account of differences with his brethren, who sought to poison him.
The imputation of Yezidism against Sergius was the cause that a certain
inquisitive young man resorted to him, trusting to obtain light concerning
the nature of demons. But he found that Sergius could give him no
information on that subject, but, on the contrary, discoursed so wisely and
beautifully on holy things, that his pupil's intellect was enlightened, and
his enthusiasm was inflamed, and he longed to go forth and instruct the
ignorant people around him; the Saracens, and the Sabaeans, and the
Zoroastrians, and the Carmathians, and the Baphometites, and the
Paulicians, who are a remnant of the ancient Manichees.
"Nay, good youth," said Sergius, "I have renounced the sending forth of
missionaries, having made ample trial with my spiritual son, the Prophet
Abdallah."
"What!" exclaimed the youth, "was Abdallah the Adite thy disciple?"
"Even so," said Sergius. "Hearken to his history.
"Never have I instructed so promising a pupil as Abdallah, nor when he was
first my disciple do I deem that he was other than the most simple-minded
and well-intentioned of youths. I always called him son, a title I have
never bestowed on another. Like thee, he had compassion on the darkness
around him, and craved my leave to go forth and dispel it.
"'My son,' said I, 'I will not restrain thee: thou art no longer a child.
Thou hast heard me discourse on the subject of persecution, and knowest
that poison was administered to me personally on account of my inability to
perceive the supernatural light emanating from the navel of Brother
Gregory. Thou art aware that thou wilt be beaten with rods and pricked with
goads, chained and starved in a dungeon, very probably blinded, very
possibly burned with fire?'
"'All these things I am prepared to undergo,' said Abdallah; and he
embraced me and bid me farewell.
"After certain moons he returned covered with weals and scars, and his
bones protruded through his skin.
"'Whence are these weals and scars?' asked I, 'and what signifies this
protrusion of thy bones?'
"'The weals and the scars,' answered he, 'proceed from the floggings
inflicted upon me by command of the Caliph; and my bones protrude by reason
of the omission of his officers to furnish me with either food or drink in
the dungeon wherein I was imprisoned by his orders.'
"'O my son,' exclaimed I, 'in the eyes of faith and right reason these
scars are lovelier than the moles of beauty, and the sight of thy bones is
like the beholding of hidden treasure!'
"And Abdallah strove to look as though he believed me; nor did he entirely
fail therein. And I took him, and fed him, and healed him, and sent him
forth a second time into the world.
"And after a space he returned, covered as before with wounds and bruises,
but comely and somewhat fat.
"'Whence this sleekness of body, my son?' I asked.
"'Through the charity of the Caliph's wives,' he answered, 'who have fed me
secretly, I having assured them that in remembrance of this good work each
of them in the world to come would have seven husbands.'
"'How knewest thou this, my son?' I inquired.
"'In truth, father,' he said, 'I did not know it; but I thought it
probable.'
"'O my son! my son!' exclaimed I, 'thou art on a dangerous road. To win
over weak ignorant people by promises of what they shall receive in a
future life, whereof thou knowest no more than they do! Knowest thou not
that the inestimable blessings of religion are of an inward and spiritual
nature? Did I ever promise any disciple any recompense for his
enlightenment and good deeds, save flogging, starvation, and burning?'
"'Never, father," said he, 'and therefore thou hast had no follower of thy
law save one, and he hath broken it.'
"He left me after a shorter stay than before, and again went forth to
preach. After a long time he returned in good condition of body, yet
manifestly having something upon his mind.
"'Father,' he said, 'thy son hath preached with faithfulness and
acceptance, and turned thousands unto righteousness. But a sorcerer hath
arisen, saying, "Why follow ye Abdallah, seeing that he breathes not fire
out of his mouth and nostrils?" And the people give ear unto the words that
come from this man's lips, when they behold the flame that cometh from his
nose. And unless thou teachest me to do as he doth I shall assuredly
perish.'
"And I told Abdallah that it was better to perish for the truth's sake than
to prolong life by lies and deceit. But he wept and lamented exceeding
sore, and in the end he prevailed with me; and I taught him to breathe
flame and smoke out of a hollow nut filled with combustible powder. And I
took a certain substance called soap, but little known in this country, and
anointed his feet therewith. And when he and the sorcerer met, both
breathing flame, the people knew not which to follow; but when Abdallah
walked over nine hot ploughshares, and the sorcerer could not touch one of
them, they beat his brains out, and became Abdallah's disciples.
"A long time afterward Abdallah came to me again, this time with a joyful,
and yet with somewhat of a troubled look, carrying a camel-hair blanket,
which he undid, and lo! it was full of bones.
"'O father,' he said, 'I bring thee happy tidings. We have found the bones
of the camel of the prophet Ad, upon which his revelation was engraved by
him.'
"'If this be so,' said I, 'thou art acquainted with the precepts of the
prophet, and hast no need of mine.'
"'Nay, but father,' said he, 'although the revelation was without question
originally engraved by the prophet on these very bones, it hath come to
pass by the injury of time that not one letter of his writing can be
distinguished. I have therefore come to ask thee to write it over again.'
"'What!' I exclaimed, 'I forge a revelation in the name of the prophet Ad!
Get thee behind me!'
"'Thou knowest, father,' he rejoined, 'that if we had the original words of
the prophet Ad here they would profit us nought, as by reason of their
antiquity none would understand them. Seeing therefore that I myself cannot
write, it is meet that thou shouldst set down in his name those things
which he would have desired to deliver had he been now among us; but if
thou wilt not, I shall ask Brother Gregory.'
"And when I heard him speak of having recourse to that cheat and impostor
my spirit was grieved within me, and I wrote the Book of Ad myself. And I
was heedful to put in none but wholesome and profitable precepts, and more
especially did I forbid polygamy, having perceived a certain inclination
thereunto in my disciple.
"After many days he came again, and this time he was in violent terror and
agitation, and hair was wanting to the lower part of his countenance.
"'O Abdallah,' I inquired, 'where is thy beard?'
"'In the hands of my ninth wife,' said he.
"'Apostate!' I exclaimed, 'hast thou dared to espouse more wives than one?
Rememberest thou not what is written in the Book of the prophet Ad?'
"'O father,' he said, 'the revelation of Ad being, as thou knowest, so
exceedingly ancient, doth of necessity require a commentary. This hath been
supplied by one of my disciples, a young Syrian and natural son of Gregory,
as I opine. This young man can not only write, but write to my dictation,
an accomplishment in which thou hast been found lacking, O Sergius. In this
gloss it is set forth how, since woman hath the ninth part of the soul of
man, the prophet, in enjoining us Adites (as we now call ourselves) to take
but one wife, doth instruct us to take nine; to espouse a tenth would, I
grant, be damnable. It ensues, therefore, that having become enamoured of a
most charming young virgin, I am constrained to repudiate one of the wives
whom I have taken already. To this, each thinking that it may be her turn
speedily, if not now, they will in no wise consent, and have maltreated me
as thou seest, and the dens of wild beasts are at this moment abodes of
peace, compared to my seraglio. What is even worse, they threaten to
disclose to the people the fact, of which they have unhappily become aware,
that the revelation of the blessed Ad is not written upon the bones of a
camel at all, but of a cow, and will therefore be accounted spurious,
inasmuch as the prophet is not recorded to have ridden upon this quadruped.
And seeing that thou didst inscribe the characters, O father, I cannot but
fear that the fury of the people will extend unto thee, and that thou wilt
be even in danger of thy life from them.'
"This argument of Abdallah's had much weight with me, and I the more
readily consented to his request as he did not on this occasion require any
imposture at my hands, but merely the restitution of his domestic peace.
And I went with him to his wives, and discoursed with them, and they agreed
to abide by my sentence. And, willing to please him, I directed that he
should marry the beautiful virgin, and put away one of his wives who was
old and ugly, and endowed with the dispositions of Sheitan.
"'O father,' said Abdallah, 'thou hast brought me from death unto life! And
thou, Zarah,' he continued, 'wilt lose nought, but gain exceedingly, in
becoming the spouse of the wise and virtuous Sergius.'
"'I marry Zarah!' I exclaimed, 'I! a monk!'
"'Surely,' said he, 'thou would'st not take away her husband without giving
her another in his stead?'
"'If he does I will throttle him,' cried Zarah.
"And I wept sore, and made great intercession. And it was agreed that there
should be a delay of forty days, in which space if any one else would marry
Zarah, I should be free of her. And I promised all my substance to any one
who would do this, and no one was found. And she was offered to thirteen
criminals doomed to suffer death, and they all chose death. And at the last
I was constrained to marry her. And truly I have now the comfort of
thinking that if I have offended by encouraging Abdallah's deceits, or
otherwise, the debt is paid, and Eternal Justice hath now nothing against
me; for verily I was an inmate of Gehenna until it came to pass that she
was herself translated thither. And respecting the manner of her
translation, inquire not thou too curiously. It was doubtless a token of
the displeasure of Heaven at her enormities that the water of the well of
Kefayat, which had been known as the Diamond of the Desert, became about
this time undrinkable, and pernicious to man and beast.
"As I sat in my dwelling administering to the estate of my deceased wife,
which consisted principally of wines and strong liquors, Abdallah again
appeared before me.
"'Hast thou come,' said I, 'to solicit me to abet thee in any new
imposture? Know, once for all, that I will not.'
"'On the contrary,' said he, 'I am come to set thee at ease by proving to
thee that I shall not again require thy assistance. Follow me.'
"And I followed him to a great plain, where was a host of armed horsemen
and footmen, more than I could number. And they bore banners on which the
name of Abdallah was embroidered in letters of gold. And in the midst was
an ark of gold, with the bones of Ad's camel, or cow. And by this was a
great pile of the heads of men, and warriors were continually casting more
and more upon the heap.
"'How many?' asked Abdallah.
"'Twelve thousand, O Apostle of God,' answered they, 'but there are more to
come.'
"'Thou monster!' said I to Abdallah.
"'Nay, father,' said he, 'there will not be more than sixteen thousand in
all, and these men were unbelievers. Moreover we have spared such of their
women as were young and handsome, and have taken them for our concubines,
as is ordained in the eleventh supplement to the Book of Ad, just
promulgated by my authority. But come, I have other things to manifest unto
thee.'
"And he led me where a stake was driven into the earth, and a man was
chained unto it, and fuel was heaped all around him, and many stood by with
lighted torches in their hands.
"'O Abdallah,' I exclaimed, 'wherefore this atrocity?'
"'This man,' he replied, 'is a blasphemer, who hath said that the Book of
Ad is written on the bones of a cow.'
"'But it is written on the bones of a cow! 'I cried.
"'Even so,' said he, 'and therefore is his heresy the more damnable, and
his punishment the more exemplary. Had it been indeed written on the bones
of a camel, he might have affirmed what pleased him.'
"And I shook off the dust from my feet, and hastened to my dwelling. The
rest of Abdallah's acts thou knowest, and how he fell warring with the
Carmathians. And now I ask thee, art thou yet minded to go forth as a
missionary of the truth?"
"O Sergius," said the young man, "I perceive that the temptations are
greater, and the difficulties far surpassing what I had thought. Yet will I
go, and I trust by Heaven's grace not to fail utterly."
"Then go," said Sergius, "and Heaven's blessing go with thee! Come back in
ten years, should I be living, and if thou canst declare that thou hast
forged no scriptures, and worked no miracles, and persecuted no
unbelievers, and flattered no potentate, and bribed no one with the promise
of aught in heaven or earth, I will give thee the philosopher's stone."
ANANDA THE MIRACLE WORKER
The holy Buddha, Sakhya Muni, on dispatching his apostles to proclaim his
religion throughout the peninsula of India, failed not to provide them with
salutary precepts for their guidance. He exhorted them to meekness, to
compassion, to abstemiousness, to zeal in the promulgation of his doctrine,
and added an injunction never before or since prescribed by the founder of
any religion--namely, on no account to perform any miracle.
It is further related, that whereas the apostles experienced considerable
difficulty in complying with the other instructions of their master, and
sometimes actually failed therein, the prohibition to work miracles was
never once transgressed by any of them, save only the pious Ananda, the
history of whose first year's apostolate is recorded as follows.
Ananda repaired to the kingdom of Magadha, and instructed the inhabitants
diligently in the law of Buddha. His doctrine being acceptable, and his
speech persuasive, the people hearkened to him willingly, and began to
forsake the Brahmins whom they had previously revered as spiritual guides.
Perceiving this, Ananda became elated in spirit, and one day he exclaimed:
"How blessed is the apostle who propagates truth by the efficacy of reason
and virtuous example, combined with eloquence, rather than error by
imposture and devil-mongering, like those miserable Brahmins!"
As he uttered this vainglorious speech, the mountain of his merits was
diminished by sixteen yojanas, and virtue and efficacy departed from him,
insomuch that when he next addressed the multitude they first mocked, then
hooted, and finally pelted him.
When matters had reached this pass, Ananda lifted his eyes and discerned a
number of Brahmins of the lower sort, busy about a boy who lay in a fit
upon the ground. They had long been applying exorcisms and other approved
methods with scant success, when the most sagacious among them suggested:
"Let us render the body of this patient an uncomfortable residence for the
demon; peradventure he will then cease to abide therein."
They were accordingly engaged in branding the sufferer with hot irons,
filling his nostrils with smoke, and otherwise to the best of their ability
disquieting the intrusive devil. Ananda's first thought was, "The lad is in
a fit;" the second, "It were a pious deed to deliver him from his
tormentors;" the third, "By good management this may extricate me from my
present uncomfortable predicament, and redound to the glory of the most
holy Buddha."
Yielding to this temptation, he strode forward, chased away the Brahmins
with an air of authority, and, uplifting his countenance to heaven, recited
the appellations of seven devils. No effect ensuing, he repeated seven
more, and so continued until, the fit having passed off in the course of
nature, the patient's paroxysms ceased, he opened his eyes, and Ananda
restored him to his relatives. But the people cried loudly, "A miracle! a
miracle!" and when Ananda resumed his instructions, they gave heed to him,
and numbers embraced the religion of Buddha. Whereupon Ananda exulted, and
applauded himself for his dexterity and presence of mind, and said to
himself:
"Surely the end sanctifies the means."
As he propounded this heresy, the eminence of his merits was reduced to the
dimensions of a mole-hill, and he ceased to be of account in the eyes of
any of the saints, save only of Buddha, whose compassion is inexhaustible.
The fame of his achievement, nevertheless, was bruited about the whole
country, and soon reached the ears of the king, who sent for him, and
inquired if he had actually expelled the demon.
Ananda replied in the affirmative.
"I am indeed rejoiced," returned the king, "as thou now wilt without doubt
proceed to heal _my_ son, who has lain in a trance for twenty-nine days."
"Alas! dread sovereign," modestly returned Ananda, "how should the merits
which barely suffice to effect the cure of a miserable Pariah avail to
restore the offspring of an Elephant among Kings?"
"By what process are these merits acquired?" demanded the monarch.
"By the exercise of penance," responded Ananda, "in virtue of which the
austere devotee quells the winds, allays the waters, expostulates
convincingly with tigers, carries the moon in his sleeve, and otherwise
performs all acts and deeds appropriate to the character of a peripatetic
thaumaturgist."
"This being so," answered the king, "thy inability to heal my son
manifestly arises from defect of merit, and defect of merit from defect of
penance. I will therefore consign thee to the charge of my Brahmins, that
they may aid thee to fill up the measure of that which is lacking."