Marie Corelli
The Soul of Lilith, Vol. 2
(1892)
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About the print version:
THE SOUL OF LILITH
BY
MARIE CORELLI
AUTHOR OF 'ARDATH,' 'A ROMANCE OF TWO WORLDS,' 'THELMA,' 'VENDETTA!' ETC.
'Not a drop of her blood was human,
But she was made like a soft sweet woman'
DANTE G. ROSSETTI
IN THREE VOLUMES. VOL. II. SECOND EDITION LONDON
RICHARD BENTLEY AND SON Publishers in Ordinary to Her Majesty the Queen
1892 [All rights reserved]
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THE SOUL OF LILITH
CHAPTER I.
INTO the beautiful room, glowing with its regal hues of gold and purple,
where the spell-bound Lilith lay, El-Râmi led his thoughtful and seemingly
reluctant guest. Zaroba met them on the threshold and was about to speak,--but
at an imperative sign from her master she refrained, and contented herself
merely with a searching and inquisitive glance at the stately monk, the like of
whom she had never seen before. She had good cause to be surprised,--for in all
the time she had known him, El-Râmi had never permitted any visitor to enter the
shrine of Lilith's rest. Now he had made a new departure,--and in the eagerness of her
desire to know why this stranger was thus freely admitted into the usually
forbidden precincts, she went her way downstairs to seek Féraz, and learn from
him the explanation of what seemed so mysterious. But it was now past ten
o'clock at night, and Féraz was asleep,--fast locked in such a slumber that
though Zaroba shook him and called him several times, she could not rouse him
from his deep and almost death-like torpor. Baffled in her attempt, she gave it
up at last, and descended to the kitchen to prepare her own frugal
supper,--resolving, however, that as soon as she heard Féraz stirring she would
put him through such a catechism, that she would find out, in spite of El-Râmi's
haughty reticence, the name of the unknown visitor and the nature of his errand.
Meanwhile, El-Râmi himself and his grave companion stood by the couch of
Lilith, and looked upon her in all her peaceful beauty for some minutes in
silence. Presently El-Râmi grew impatient at the absolute impassiveness of the
monk's attitude and the strange look in his eyes--a look which expressed nothing but solemn compassion and reverence.
"Well!" he exclaimed almost brusquely--"Now you see Lilith, as she is."
"Not so!" said the monk quietly--"I do not see her as she is. But I have
seen her,--whereas, ... you have not!"
El-Râmi turned upon him somewhat angrily.
"Why will you always speak in riddles?" he said--"In plain language,
what do you mean?"
"In plain language I mean what I say"--returned the monk
composedly--"And I tell you I have seen Lilith. The Soul of Lilith is
Lilith;--not this brittle casket made of earthy materials which we now look
upon, and which is preserved from decomposition by an electric fluid.
But--beautiful as it is--it is a corpse--and nothing more."
El-Râmi regarded him with an expression of haughty amazement.
"Can a corpse breathe?" he inquired--"Can a corpse have colour and
movement? This Body was the body of a child when first I began my
experiment,--now it is a woman's form full-grown and perfect--and you tell me it is a corpse!"
"I tell you no more than you told Féraz," said the monk coldly--"When
the boy trespassed your command and yielded to the suggestion of your servant
Zaroba, did you not assure him that Lilith was dead?"'
El-Râmi started;--these words certainly gave him a violent shock of
amazement.
"God!" he exclaimed--"How can you know all this?--Where did you hear it?
Does the very air convey messages to you from a distance?--Does the light copy
scenes for you, or what is it that gives you such a superhuman faculty for
knowing everything you choose to know?"
The monk smiled gravely.
"I have only one method of work, El-Râmi"--he said--"And that method you
are perfectly aware of, though you would not adopt it when I would have led you
into its mystery. 'No man cometh to the Father, but by Me.' You know that old
well-worn text--read so often, heard so often, that its true meaning is utterly
lost sight of and forgotten. 'Coming to the Father' means the
attainment of a superhuman intuition--a superhuman knowledge,--but as you do not
believe in these things, let them pass. But you were perfectly right when you
told Féraz that this Lilith is dead;--of course she is dead,--dead as a plant
that is dried but has its colour preserved, and is made to move its leaves by
artificial means. This body's breath is artificial,--the liquid in its veins is
not blood, but a careful compound of the electric fluid that generates all
life,--and it might be possible to preserve it thus forever. Whether its growth
would continue is a scientific question; it might and it might not,--probably it
would cease if the Soul held no more communication with it. For its growth,
which you consider so remarkable, is simply the result of a movement of the
brain;--when you force back the Spirit to converse through its medium, the brain
receives an impetus, which it communicates to the spine and nerves,--the growth
and extension of the muscles is bound to follow. Nevertheless, it is really a
chemically animated corpse; it is not Lilith. Lilith herself I know."
"Lilith herself you know!" echoed El-Râmi, stupefied--"You know ...! What is it that you would imply?"
"I know Lilith"--said the monk steadily, "as you have never known her. I
have seen her as you have never seen her. She is a lonely creature,--a wandering
angel, for ever waiting,--for ever hoping. Unloved, save by the Highest Love,
she wends her flight from star to star, from world to world,--a spirit
beautiful, but incomplete as a flower without its stem,--a bird without its
mate. But her destiny is changing,--she will not be alone for long,--the hours
ripen to their best fulfilment,--and Love, the crown and completion of her
being, will unbind her chains and send her soaring to the Highest Joy in the
glorious liberty of the free!"
While he spoke thus, softly, yet with eloquence and passion, a dark
flush crept over El-Râmi's face,--his eyes glittered and his hand trembled--he
seemed to be making some fierce inward resolve. He controlled himself, however,
and asked with a studied indifference"Is this your prophecy?"
"It is not a prophecy; it is a truth;" replied the monk gently--"If you doubt me, why not ask Her? She is here."
"Here?" El-Râmi looked about vaguely, first at the speaker, then at the
couch where the so-called "corpse" lay breathing tranquilly--"Here, did you say?
Naturally,--of course she is here."
And his glance reverted again to Lilith's slumbering form.
"No--not here--" said the monk with a gesture towards the
couch--"but--there!"
And he pointed to the centre of the room where the lamp shed a mellow
golden lustre, on the pansy-embroidered carpet, and where from the tall crystal
vase of Venice ware, a fresh, branching cluster of pale roses exhaled their
delicious perfume. El-Râmi stared, but could see nothing,--nothing save the
lamp-light and the nodding flowers.
"There?" he repeated bewildered--"Where?"
"Alas for you, that you cannot see her!" said the monk compassionately.
"This blindness of your sight proves that for you the veil has not yet been
withdrawn. Lilith is there, I tell you;--she stands close to those roses,--her white form radiates like lightning--her hair is like the glory
of the sunshine on amber,--her eyes are bent upon the flowers, which are fully
conscious of her shining presence. For flowers are aware of angels' visits, when
men see nothing! Round her and above her are the trailing films of light caught
from the farthest stars,--she is alone as usual,--her looks are wistful and
appealing,--will you not speak to her?"
El-Râmi's surprise, vexation and fear were beyond all words as he heard
this description,--then he became scornful and incredulous.
"Speak to her!" he repeated--"Nay--if you see her as plainly as you
say--let her speak!"
"You will not understand her speech--" said the monk--"Not unless it be
conveyed to you in earthly words through that earthly medium there--" and he
pointed to the fair form on the couch--"But, otherwise you will not know what
she is saying. Nevertheless--if you wish it,--she shall speak."
"I wish nothing--" said El-Râmi quickly and haughtily--"If you imagine
you see her,--and if you can command this ...
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