Cleopatra: Chapter 6

Chapter 6

OF THE INITIATION OF HARMACHIS; OF HIS VISIONS; OF HIS PASSING TO THE
CITY THAT IS IN THE PLACE OF DEATH; AND OF THE DECLARATIONS OF ISIS, THE
MESSENGER

In silence we passed into the Shrine of Isis. It was dark and bare--only
the feeble light from the lamp gleamed faintly upon the sculptured
walls, where, in a hundred effigies, the Holy Mother suckled the Holy
Child.

The priest closed the doors and bolted them. "Once again," he said, "art
thou ready, Harmachis?"

"Once again," I answered, "I am ready."

He spoke no more; but, having lifted up his hands in prayer, led me to
the centre of the Holy, and with a swift motion put out the lamp.

"Look before thee, Harmachis!" he cried; and his voice sounded hollow in
the solemn place.

I gazed and saw nothing. But from the niche that is high in the wall,
where is hid that sacred symbol of the Goddess on which few may look,
there came a sound as of the rattling rods of the sistrum.[*] And as I
listened, awestruck, behold! I saw the outline of the symbol drawn as
with fire upon the blackness of the air. It hung above my head, and
rattled while it hung. And, as it turned, I clearly saw the face of
the Mother Isis that is graven on the one side, and signifies unending
Birth, and the face of her holy sister, Nephthys, that is graven on the
other, and signifies the ending of all birth in Death.

[*] A musical instrument peculiarly sacred to Isis of which
the shape and rods had a mystic significance.--Editor.

Slowly it turned and swung as though some mystic dancer trod the air
above me, and shook it in her hand. But at length the light went out,
and the rattling ceased.

Then of a sudden the end of the chamber became luminous, and in that
white light I beheld picture after picture. I saw the ancient Nile
rolling through deserts to the sea. There were no men upon its banks,
nor any signs of man, nor any temples to the Gods. Only wild birds moved
on Sihor's lonely face, and monstrous brutes plunged and wallowed in his
waters. The sun sank in majesty behind the Libyan Desert and stained
the waters red; the mountains towered up towards the silent sky; but in
mountain, desert, and river there was no sign of human life. Then I knew
that I saw the world as it had been before man was, and a terror of its
loneliness entered my soul.

The picture passed and another rose up in its place. Once again I saw
the banks of Sihor, and on them crowded wild-faced creatures, partaking
of the nature of the ape more than of the nature of mankind. They fought
and slew each other. The wild birds sprang up in affright as the fire
leapt from reed huts given by foemen's hands to flame and pillage. They
stole and rent and murdered, dashing out the brains of children with
axes of stone. And, though no voice told me, I knew that I saw man as
he was tens of thousands of years ago, when first he marched across the
earth.

Yet another picture. Again I beheld the banks of Sihor; but on them fair
cities bloomed like flowers. In and out their gates went men and women,
passing to and fro from wide, well-tilled lands. But I saw no guards or
armies, and no weapons of war. All was wisdom, prosperity, and peace.
And while I wondered, a glorious Figure, clad in raiment that shone
as flame, came from the gates of a shrine, and the sound of music went
before and followed after him. He mounted an ivory throne which was set
in a market-place facing the water: and as the sun sank called in
all the multitudes to prayer. With one voice they prayed, bending in
adoration. And I understood that herein was shown the reign of the Gods
on earth, which was long before the days of Menes.

A change came over the dream. Still the same fair city, but other
men--men with greed and evil on their faces--who hated the bonds of
righteous doing, and set their hearts on sin. The evening came; the
glorious Figure mounted the throne and called to prayer, but none bowed
themselves in adoration.

"We are aweary of thee!" they cried. "Make Evil King! Slay him! slay
him! and loose the bonds of Evil! Make Evil King!"

The glorious Shape rose up, gazing with mild eyes upon those wicked men.

"Ye know not what ye ask," he cried; "but as ye will, so be it! For if
I die, by me, after much travail, shall ye once again find a path to the
Kingdom of Good!"

Even as he spoke, a Form, foul and hideous to behold, leapt upon him,
cursing, slew him, tore him limb from limb, and amidst the clamour of
the people sat himself upon the throne and ruled. But a Shape whose
face was veiled passed down from heaven on shadowy wings, and with
lamentations gathered up the rent fragments of the Being. A moment she
bent herself upon them, then lifted up her hands and wept. And as she
wept, behold! from her side there sprang a warrior armed and with a
face like the face of Ra at noon. He, the Avenger, hurled himself with
a shout upon the Monster who had usurped the throne, and they closed in
battle, and, struggling ever in a strait embrace, passed upward to the
skies.

Then came picture after picture. I saw Powers and Peoples clad in
various robes and speaking many tongues. I saw them pass and pass in
millions--loving, hating, struggling, dying. Some few were happy and
some had woe stamped upon their faces; but most bore not the seal of
happiness nor of woe, but rather that of patience. And ever as they
passed from age to age, high above in the heavens the Avenger fought
on with the Evil Thing, while the scale of victory swung now here now
there. But neither conquered, nor was it given to me to know how the
battle ended.

And I understood that what I had beheld was the holy vision of the
struggle between the Good and the Evil Powers. I saw that man was
created vile, but Those who are above took pity on him, and came down
to him to make him good and happy, for the two things are one thing. But
man returned to his wicked way, and then the bright Spirit of Good, who
is of us called Osiris, but who has many names, offered himself up for
the evil-doing of the race that had dethroned him. And from him and the
Divine Mother, of whom all nature is, sprang another spirit who is the
Protector of us on earth, as Osiris is our justifier in Amenti.

For this is the mystery of the Osiris.

Of a sudden, as I saw the visions, these things became clear to me. The
mummy cloths of symbol and of ceremony that wrap Osiris round fell from
him, and I understood the secret of religion, which is Sacrifice.

The pictures passed, and again the priest, my guide, spoke to me.

"Hast thou understood, Harmachis, those things which it has been granted
thee to see?"

"I have," I said. "Are the rites ended?"

"Nay, they are but begun. That which follows thou must endure alone!
Behold I leave thee, to return at the morning light. Once more I warn
thee. That which thou shalt see, few may look upon and live. In all my
days I have known but three who dared to face this dread hour, and of
those three at dawn but one was found alive. Myself, I have not trod
this path. It is too high for me."

"Depart," I said; "my soul is athirst for knowledge. I will dare it."

He laid his hand upon my shoulder and blessed me. He went. I heard the
door shut to behind him, the echoes of his footsteps slowly died away.

Then I felt that I was alone, alone in the Holy Place with Things
which are not of the earth. Silence fell--silence deep and black as the
darkness which was around me. The silence fell, it gathered as the cloud
gathered on the face of the moon that night when, a lad, I prayed upon
the pylon towers. It gathered denser and yet more dense till it seemed
to creep into my heart and call aloud therein; for utter silence has
a voice that is more terrible than any cry. I spoke; the echoes of my
words came back upon me from the walls and seemed to beat me down. The
stillness was lighter to endure than an echo such as this. What was I
about to see? Should I die, even now, in the fulness of my youth and
strength? Terrible were the warnings that had been given to me. I was
fear-stricken, and bethought me that I would fly. Fly!--fly whither? The
temple door was barred; I could not fly. I was alone with the Godhead,
alone with the Power that I had invoked. Nay, my heart was pure--my
heart was pure. I would face the terror that was to come, ay, even
though I died.

"Isis, Holy Mother," I prayed. "Isis, Spouse of Heaven, come unto me, be
with me now; I faint! be with me now."

And then I knew that things were not as things had been. The air around
me began to stir, it rustled as the wings of eagles rustle, it took
life. Bright eyes gazed upon me, strange whispers shook my soul. Upon
the darkness were bars of light. They changed and interchanged, they
moved to and fro and wove mystic symbols which I could not read.
Swifter and swifter flew that shuttle of the light: the symbols grouped,
gathered, faded, gathered yet again, faster and still more fast, till my
eyes could count them no more. Now I was afloat upon a sea of glory; it
surged and rolled, as the ocean rolls; it tossed me high, it brought me
low. Glory was piled on glory, splendour heaped on splendour's head, and
I rode above it all!

Soon the lights began to pale in the rolling sea of air. Great shadows
shot across it, lines of darkness pierced it and rushed together on its
breast, till, at length, I was only a Shape of Flame set like a star on
the bosom of immeasurable night. Bursts of awful music gathered from far
away. Miles and miles away I heard them, thrilling faintly through the
gloom. On they came, nearer and more near, louder and more loud, till
they swept past, above, below, around me, swept on rushing pinions,
terrifying and enchanting me. They floated by, ever growing fainter,
till they died in space. Then others came, and no two were akin. Some
rattled as ten thousand sistra shaken all to tune. Some rank from the
brazen throats of unnumbered clarions. Some pealed with a loud, sweet
chant of voices that were more than human; and some rolled along in the
slow thunder of a million drums. They passed; their notes were lost in
dying echoes; and the silence once more pressed in upon me and overcame
me.

The strength within me began to fail. I felt my life ebbing at its
springs. Death drew near to me and his shape was _Silence_. He entered
at my heart, entered with a sense of numbing cold, but my brain was
still alive, I could yet think. I knew that I was drawing near the
confines of the Dead. Nay, I was dying fast, and oh, the horror of it!
I strove to pray and could not; there was no more time for prayer. One
struggle and the stillness crept into my brain. The terror passed; an
unfathomable weight of sleep pressed me down. I was dying, I was dying,
and then--nothingness!

_I was dead!_

A change--life came back to me, but between the new life and the life
that had been was a gulf and difference. Once again I stood in the
darkness of the shrine, but it blinded me no more. It was clear as the
light of day, although it still was black. I stood; and yet it was not
I who stood, but rather my spiritual part, for at my feet lay my dead
Self. There it lay, rigid and still, a stamp of awful calm sealed upon
its face, while I gazed on it.

And as I gazed, filled with wonder, I was caught up on the Wings of
Flame and whirled away! away! faster than the lightnings flash. Down I
fell, through depths of empty space set here and there with glittering
crowns of stars. Down for ten million miles and ten times ten million,
till at length I hovered over a place of soft, unchanging light, wherein
were Temples, Palaces, and Abodes, such as no man ever saw in the
visions of his sleep. They were built of Flame, and they were built of
Blackness. Their spires pierced up and up; their great courts stretched
around. Even as I hovered they changed continually to the eye; what was
Flame became Blackness, what was Blackness became Flame. Here was the
flash of crystal, and there the blaze of gems shone even through the
glory that rolls around the city which is in the Place of Death. There
were trees, and their voice as they rustled was the voice of music;
there was air, and, as it blew, its breath was the sobbing notes of
song.

Shapes, changing, mysterious, wonderful, rushed up to meet me, and bore
me down till I seemed to stand upon another earth.

"Who comes?" cried a great Voice.

"Harmachis," answered the Shapes, that changed continually. "Harmachis
who hath been summoned from the earth to look upon the face of Her that
Was and Is and Shall Be. Harmachis, Child of Earth!"

"Throw back the Gates and open wide the Doors!" pealed the awful Voice.
"Throw back the Gates and open wide the Doors; seal up his lips in
silence, lest his voice jar upon the harmonies of Heaven, take away his
sight lest he see that which may not be seen, and let Harmachis, who
hath been summoned, pass down the path that leads to the place of the
Unchanging. Pass on, Child of Earth; but before thou goest, look up that
thou mayest learn how far thou art removed from Earth."

I looked up. Beyond the glory that shone about the city was black night,
and high on its bosom twinkled one tiny star.

"Behold the world that thou hast left," said the Voice, "behold and
tremble."

Then my lips and eyes were sealed with silence and with darkness, so
that I was dumb and blind. The Gates rolled back, the Doors swung wide,
and I was swept into the city that is in the Place of Death. I was swept
swiftly I know not whither, till at length I stood upon my feet. Again
the great Voice pealed:

"Draw the veil of blackness from his eyes, unseal the silence on his
lips, that Harmachis, Child of Earth, may see, hear, and understand, and
make adoration at the Shrine of Her that Was and Is and Shall Be."

And my lips and eyes were touched once more, so that my sight and speech
came back.

Behold! I stood within a hall of blackest marble, so lofty that even
in the rosy light scarce could my vision reach the great groins of the
roof. Music wailed about its spaces, and all adown its length stood
winged Spirits fashioned in living fire, and such was the brightness of
their forms that I could not look on them. In its centre was an altar,
small and square, and I stood before the empty altar. Then again the
Voice cried:

"O Thou that hast been, art, and shalt be; Thou who, having many names,
art yet without a name; Measurer of Time; Messenger of God; Guardian of
the Worlds and the Races that dwell thereon; Universal Mother born of
Nothingness; Creatix uncreated; Living Splendour without Form, Living
Form without Substance; Servant of the Invisible; Child of Law; Holder
of the Scales and Sword of Fate; Vessel of Life, through whom all Life
flows, to whom it again is gathered; Recorder of Things Done; Executrix
of Decrees--_Hear!_

"Harmachis the Egyptian, who by Thy will hath been summoned from
the earth, waits before Thine Altar, with ears unstopped, with
eyes unsealed, and with an open heart. Hear and descend! Descend, O
Many-shaped! Descend in Flame! Descend in Sound! Descend in Spirit! Hear
and descend!"

The Voice ceased and there was silence. Then through the silence came
a sound like the booming of the sea. It passed and presently, moved
thereto by I know not what, I raised my eyes from my hands with which I
had covered them, and saw a small dark cloud hanging over the Altar in
and out of which a fiery Serpent climbed.

Then all the Spirits clad in light fell upon the marble floor, and with
a loud voice adored; but what they said I could not understand. Behold!
the dark cloud came down and rested on the Altar, the Serpent of fire
stretched itself towards me, touched me on the forehead with its forky
tongue and was gone. From within the cloud a Voice sweet and low and
clear spoke in heavenly accents:

"Depart, ye Ministers, leave Me with my son whom I have summoned."

Then like arrows rushing from a bow the flame-clad Spirits leapt from
the ground and sped away.

"O Harmachis," said the Voice, "be not afraid, I am She whom thou dost
know as Isis of the Egyptians; but what else I am strive not thou
to learn, it is beyond thy strength. For I am all things, Life is my
spirit, and Nature is my raiment. I am the laughter of the babe, I am
the maiden's love, I am the mother's kiss. I am the Child and Servant of
the Invisible that is God, that is Law, that is Fate--though myself I be
not God and Fate and Law. When winds blow and oceans roar upon the
face of the Earth thou hearest my voice; when thou gazest on the starry
firmament thou seest my countenance; when the spring blooms out in
flowers, that is my smile, Harmachis. For I am Nature's self, and all
her shapes are shapes of Me. I breathe in all that breathes. I wax and
wane in the changeful moon: I grow and gather in the tides: I rise with
the suns: I flash with the lightning and thunder in the storms. Nothing
is too great for the measure of my majesty, nothing is so small that
I cannot find a home therein. I am in thee and thou art in Me, O
Harmachis. That which bade thee be bade Me also be. Therefore, though I
am great and thou art little, have no fear. For we are bound together
by the common bond of life--that life which flows through suns and stars
and spaces, through Spirits and the souls of men, welding all Nature to
a whole that, changing ever, is yet eternally the same."

I bowed my head--I could not speak, for I was afraid.

"Faithfully hast thou served Me, O my son," went on the low sweet Voice;
"greatly thou hast longed to be brought face to face with Me here in
Amenti; and greatly hast thou dared to accomplish thy desire. For it is
no small thing to cast off the tabernacle of the Flesh and before the
appointed time, if only for an hour, put on the raiment of the Spirit.
And greatly, O my servant and my son, have I, too, desired to look on
thee there where I am. For the Gods love those who love them, but with a
wider and deeper love, and under One who is as far from Me as I am from
thee, mortal, I am a God of Gods. Therefore I have caused thee to be
brought hither, Harmachis; and therefore I speak to thee, my son, and
bid thee commune with Me now face to face, as thou didst commune that
night upon the temple towers of Abouthis. For I was there with thee,
Harmachis, as I was in ten thousand other worlds. It was I, O Harmachis,
who laid the lotus in thy hand, giving thee the sign which thou didst
seek. For thou art of the kingly blood of my children who served Me from
age to age. And if thou dost not fail thou shalt sit upon that kingly
throne and restore my ancient worship in its purity, and sweep my
temples from their defilements. But if thou dost fail, then shall the
eternal Spirit Isis become but a memory in Egypt."

The Voice paused; and, gathering up my strength, at length I spoke
aloud:

"Tell me, O Holy," I said, "shall I then fail?"

"Ask Me not," answered the Voice, "that which it is not lawful that I
should answer thee. Perchance I can read that which shall befall thee,
perchance it doth not please Me so to read. What can it profit the
Divine, that hath all time wherein to await the issues, to be eager to
look upon the blossom that is not blown, but which, lying a seed in the
bosom of the earth, shall blow in its season? Know, Harmachis, that I
do not shape the Future; the Future is to thee and not to Me; for it is
born of Law and of the rule ordained of the Invisible. Yet thou art free
to act therein, and thou shalt win or thou shalt fail according to thy
strength and the measure of thy heart's purity. Thine be the burden,
Harmachis, as thine in the event shall be the glory or the shame. Little
do I reck of the issue, I who am but the Minister of what is written.
Now hear me: I will always be with thee, my son, for my love once
given can never be taken away, though by sin it may seem lost to thee.
Remember then this: if thou dost triumph, thy guerdon shall be great; if
thou dost fail, heavy indeed shall be thy punishment both in the flesh
and in the land that thou callest Amenti. Yet this for thy comfort:
shame and agony shall not be eternal. For however deep the fall from
righteousness, if but repentance holds the heart, there is a path--a
stony and a cruel path--whereby the height may be climbed again. Let it
not be thy lot to follow it, Harmachis!

"And now, because thou hast loved Me, my son, and, wandering through the
maze of fable, wherein men lose themselves upon the earth, mistaking the
substance for the Spirit, and the Altar for the God, hast yet grasped a
clue of Truth the Many-faced; and because I love thee and look on to
the day that, perchance, shall come when thou shalt dwell blessed in my
light and in the doing of my tasks: because of this, I say, it shall be
given to thee, O Harmachis, to hear the Word whereby I may be summoned
from the Uttermost, by one who hath communed with Me, and to look upon
the face of Isis--even into the eyes of the Messenger, and not die the
death.

"_Behold!_"

The sweet Voice ceased; the dark cloud upon the altar changed and
changed--it grew white, it shone, and seemed at length to take the
shrouded shape of a woman. Then the golden Snake crept from its heart
once more, and, like a living diadem, twined itself about the cloudy
brows.

Now suddenly a Voice called aloud the awful Word, then the vapours burst
and melted, and with my eyes I saw that Glory, at the very thought of
which my spirit faints. But what I saw it is not lawful to utter. For,
though I have been bidden to write what I have written of this matter,
perchance that a record may remain, thereon I have been warned--ay, even
now, after these many years. I saw, and what I saw cannot be imagined;
for there are Glories and there are Shapes which are beyond the reach
of man's imagination. I saw--then, with the echo of that Word, and the
memory of that sight stamped for ever on my heart, my spirit failed me,
and I sank down before the Glory.

And, as I fell, it seemed that the great hall burst open and crumbled
into flakes of fire round me. Then a great wind blew: there was a sound
as the sound of Worlds rushing down the flood of Time--and I knew no
more!

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