“It is explained;”—said Lilith—“The explanation is in every soul’s inmost consciousness. You all know the Law and feel it—but knowing, you ignore it. Men were intended by Law—God’s Law—to live in brotherhood; but your world is divided into nations all opposed to each other,—the result is Evil. There is a Law of Health, which men can scarcely be forced to follow—the majority disobey it; again, the result is Evil. There is a Law of ‘Enough’—men grasp more than enough, and leave their brother with less than enough,—the result is Evil. There is a Law of Love—men make it a Law of Lust,—the result is Evil. All sin, all pain, all misery, are results of the Law’s transgression,—and God cannot alter the Law, He Himself being part of it and its fulfilment.”
“And is Death also the Law?” asked El-Râmi—“Wise Lilith!—Death, which concludes all things, both in Law and Order?”
“There is no death,” responded Lilith—“I have told you so. What you call by that name is Life.”
“Prove it!” exclaimed El-Râmi excitedly, “Prove it, Lilith! Show me Yourself! If there is another You than this beloved beauty of your visible form, let me behold it, and then—then will I repent of doubt,—then will I pray for pardon!”
“You will repent indeed,”—said Lilith sorrowfully—“And you will pray as children pray when first they learn ‘Our Father.’ Yes, I will come to you; watch for me, O my erring Belovëd!—watch!—for neither my love nor my promise can fail. But O remember that you are not ready—that your will, your passion, your love, forces me hither ere the time,—that, if I come, it is but to depart again—for ever!”
“No, no!” cried El-Râmi desperately—“Not to depart, but to remain!—to stay with me, my Lilith, my own—body and soul,—for ever!”
The last words sounded like a defiance flung at some invisible opponent. He stopped, trembling—for a sudden and mysterious wave of sound filled the room, like a great wind among the trees, or the last grand chord of an organ-symphony. A chill fear assailed him,—he kept his eyes fixed on the beautiful form of Lilith with a strained eagerness of attention that made his temples ache. She grew paler and paler,—and yet, ... absorbed in his intent scrutiny he could not move or speak. His tongue seemed tied to the roof of his mouth,—he felt as though he could scarcely breathe. All life appeared to hang on one supreme moment of time, which like a point of light wavered between earth and heaven, mortality and infinity. He,—one poor atom in the vast Universe,—stood, audaciously waiting for the declaration of God’s chiefest Secret. Would it be revealed at last?—or still withheld?
XXXVII.
All at once, while he thus closely watched her, Lilith, with a violent effort, sat up stiffly erect and turned her head slowly towards him. Her features were rigidly statuesque, and white as snow,—the strange gaunt look of her face terrified him, but he could not cry out or utter a word—he was stricken dumb by an excess of fear. Only his black eyes blazed with an anguish of expectation,—and the tension of his nerves seemed almost greater than he could endure.
“In the great Name of God and by the Passion of Christ,”—said Lilith solemnly, in tones that sounded far-off and faint and hollow—“do not look at this Shadow of Me! Turn, turn away from this dust of Earth which belongs to the Earth alone,—and watch for the light of Heaven which comes from Heaven alone! O my love, my belovëd!—if you are wise, if you are brave, if you are strong, turn away from beholding this Image of Me, which is not Myself,—and look for me where the roses are—there will I stand and wait!”