'I see. I see. You torture yourself uselessly. I know how it is.'
'No, Messer Leonardo, you do not yet know all. He said that Christ had died in vain, had not risen triumphant from the grave, had not vanquished death, but that His body lay mouldering in the tomb. And when he said this, I burst into weeping, and he had compassion on me, and tried to bring me comfort. And he said: "Weep not! There is no Christ, but there is Love, Great Love, the daughter of Great Knowledge. Who knoweth all, loveth all." Master, he used your very words! "Of old," he said, "they taught that love came of weakness, of wonder, of ignorance; but I tell you it comes of strength, of truth, of wisdom; for the serpent lied not when he said, Eat of the tree of the knowledge of good and evil, and ye shall be as gods." And then I knew him that he came of the devil! I cursed him, and he withdrew himself; but he said he would come again.'
Leonardo listened with as much interest as if this were no longer the delirium of sickness. He felt the gaze of his disciple, now almost calm, but terribly accusatory, sink into the secret depths of his soul.
'And the most fearsome thing,' continued Giovanni, slowly withdrawing himself from the Master, and looking him full in the face with fixed and piercing eyes; 'the most fearsome was that, as he spake to me thus, he smiled. Yes, he could smile! He smiled, as you smile upon me now—you!'
And his face became suddenly pale as wax, and with starting eyes and contorted features, he pushed Leonardo from him, and cried in a wild shout of terror:—
'Thou! Thou again! Thou hast cozened me! In the name of God, begone. Get thee behind me, Accursed One!'
At these words the Master rose, and with compelling eyes fixed on his disciple, he said:—
'Giovanni, of a truth you will do well to leave me. You remember it is said in the Scripture, "He that feareth is not made perfect in love." If you loved me with perfect love you would have no fear; you would know that all this is delusion and madness; that I am not what men suppose; that I have no Semblance; and that, perchance, I believe more truly in Christ my Saviour than do those who call me Antichrist. Farewell, Giovanni.'
His voice shook with inexpressible bitterness, which was, however, unresentful. He rose to go.
'Have I spoken truth?' he asked himself, and felt that if his pupil could only be saved by lies, he still was unable to lie. Boltraffio flung himself upon his knees at Leonardo's feet.