Ardath by Marie Corelli (reading in the dark .txt) 📖

As I live, with all my soul I do accept thy Master Christ, as mine utmost good, and His Cross as my proudest glory! … but yet, bethink thee, Edris, bethink thee of this world,—its wilful sin, its scorn of God, and all the evil that like a spreading thunder-cloud darkens it day by day! Oh, wilt thou leave me desolate and alone? … Fight as I will, I shall often sink under blows, . . conquer as I may, I shall suffer the solitude of conquest, unless THOU art with me! Oh, speak!—is there no deeper divine intention in the marvellous destiny that has brought us together?—thou, pure Spirit, and I, weak Mortal?

Has love, the primal mover of all things, no hold upon thee? …

If I am, as thou sayest, thy Beloved, loved by thee so long, even while forgetful of and unworthy of thy love, can I not NOW,—now when I am all thine,—persuade thee to compassionate the rest of my brief life on earth? … Thou art in woman’s shape here on this Field of Ardath,—and yet thou art not woman! Oh, could my love constrain thee in God’s Name, to wear the mask of mortal body for my sake, would not our union even now make the Sorrowful Star seem fair? … Love, love, love! Come to mine aid, and teach me how to shut the wings of this sweet bird of paradise in mine own breast!

… God! Spare her to me for one of Thy sweet moments which are our mortal years! … Christ, who became a mere child for pity of us, let me learn from Thee the mystic spell that makes Thine angel mine!”

 

Carried away by his own forceful emotion he hardly knew what he said, . . but an unspeakable, dizzy joy flooded his soul, as he caught the look she gave him! … a wild, sweet, amazed, half-tender, half-agonized, wholly HUMAN look, suggestive of the most marvellous possibilities! One effort and she released her hand from his, and moved a little apart, her eyes kindling with celestial sympathy in which there was the very faintest touch of self-surrender. Self-surrender? … what! from an Angel to a mortal? … Ah no! … it could not be,—yet he felt filled all at once with a terrible sense of power that at the same time was mingled with the deepest humility and fear.

 

“Hush!”—she said, and her lovely, low voice was tremulous,—

“Hush!—Thou dost speak as if we were already in God’s World! I love thee, Theos! … and truly, because thou art prisoned here, I love the sad Earth also! … but dost thou think to what thou wouldst so eagerly persuade me? To live a mortal life? … to die?

… to pass through the darkest phase of world-existence known in all the teeming spheres? Nay!”.. and a look of pathetic sorrow came over her face.. “How could I, even for thee, my Theos, forsake my home in Heaven?”

 

Her last words were half-questioning, half-hesitating, … her manner was as of one in doubt.. and Theos, kneeling still, surveyed her in worshipping silence. Then he suddenly remembered what the Monk and Mystic, Heliobas, had said to him at Dariel on the morning after his trance of soul-liberty: . . “If, as I conjecture, you have seen one of the fair inhabitants of higher spheres than ours, you would not drag her spiritual and death-unconscious brightness down to the level of the ‘reality’ of a mere human life? … Nay, if you would you could not!” And now, strange to say, he felt that he COULD but WOULD NOT; and he was overcome with remorse and penitence for the egotistical nature of his own appeal.

 

“My love—my life!” he said brokenly,—“Forgive me,—forgive my selfish prayer! … Self spoke,—not I, . . yet I had thought Self dead, and buried forever!” A faint sigh escaped him … “Believe me, Sweet, I would not have thee lose one hour of Heaven’s ecstasies, . . I would not have thee saddened by Earth’s wilful miseries, … no! not even for that lightning-moment which numbers up man’s mortal days! Speed back to Angel-land, my Edris!—I will love thee till I die, and leave the Afterward to Christ. Be glad, thou fairest, dearest One! … unfurl thy rainbow wings and fly from me! … and wander singing through the groves of Heaven, making all Heaven musical, . . perchance in the silence of the night I may catch the echo of thy voice and fancy thou art near! And trust me, Edris! … trust me! … for my faith will not falter, … my hope shall not waver, … and though in the world I may, I MUST have tribulation, yet will I believe in Him who hath by simple love overcome the world!”

 

He ceased, . . a great quiet seemed to fall upon him,—the quiet of a deep and passive resignation.

 

Edris drew nearer to him,—timidly as a shy bird, yet with a wonderful smile quivering on her lips, and in the clear depths of her starry eyes. Very gently she placed her arms about his neck and looked down at him with divinely compassionate tenderness.

 

“Thou beloved one!” she said, “Thou whose spirit was formerly equal to mine, and to all angels, in God’s sight though through pride it fell! Learn that thou art nearer to me now than thou hast been for a myriad ages! … between us are renewed the strong, sweet ties that shall nevermore be broken, unless …” and her voice faltered,—“Unless thou, of thine own Free Will, break them again in spite of all my prayers! For, BECAUSE thou art immortal even as I, though thou art pent up in mortality, even so must thy Will remain immortally unfettered, and what thou dost firmly elect to do, God will not prevent. The Dream of thy Past was a lesson, not a command,—thou art free to forget or remember it as thou wilt while on earth, since it is only AFTER Death that Memory is ineffaceable, and, with its companion Remorse, constitutes Hell.

Obey God, or disobey Him,—He will not force thee either way, . .

constrained love hath no value! Only this is the Universal Law,—

that whosoever disobeys, his disobedience recoils on his own head as of Necessity it MUST,—whereas obedience is the working in perfect harmony with all Nature, and of equal Necessity brings its own reward. Cling to the Cross for one moment.. the moment called by mortals, Life, … and it shall lift thee straightway into highest Heaven! There will I wait for thee,—and there thou shalt make me thine own forever!”

 

He sighed and gazed at her wistfully.

 

“Alas, my Edris! … Not till then?” he murmured.

 

She bent over him and kissed his forehead,—a caress as brief and light as the passing flutter of a bird’s wing.

 

“Not till then!”—she whispered—“Unless the longing of thy love compels!”

 

He started. What did she mean? … His eyes flashed eager inquiry into hers, so soft and brilliantly clear, with the light of an eternal peace dwelling in their liquid, mysterious loveliness,—

and meeting his questioning look, the angelic smile brightened more gloriously round her lips. But there was now something altogether unearthly in her beauty, … a wondrous inward luminousness began to transfigure her face and form, . . he saw her garments whiten to a sparkling radiance as of sunbeams on snow, … the halo round her bright hair deepened into flame-like glory —her stature grew loftier, and became as it were endowed with supreme and splendid majesty, . . and the exquisite fairness of her countenance waxed warmly transparent, with the delicate hue of a white rose, through which the pink color faintly flushes soft suggestions of ruddier life. His gaze dwelt upon her in unspeakable wondering adoration, mingled with a sense of irrepressible sorrow and heaviness of heart, … he felt she was about to leave him, . . and was it not a parting of soul from soul?

 

Just then the Sun stepped royally forth from between the red and gold curtains of the east,—and in that blaze of earth’s life-radiance her figure became resplendently invested with vivid rays of roseate lustre that far surpassed the amber shining of the Orb of day! Awed, dazzled, and utterly overcome, he yet strove to keep his straining eyes steadily upon her,—conscious that her smile still blessed him with its tenderness, … he made a wild effort to drag himself nearer to her, . . to touch once more the glittering edge of her robe … to detain her one little, little moment longer! Ah! how wistfully, how fondly she looked upon him! …

Almost it seemed as if she might, after all, consent to stay! …

He stretched out his arms with a pathetic gesture of love, fear, and soul-passionate supplication.

 

“Edris! … Edris!”.. he cried half despairingly. “Oh, by the strength of thine Angelhood have pity on the weakness of my Manhood!”

 

Surely she heard, or seemed to hear! … and yet she gave no answer! … No sign! … No promise!—no gesture of farewell! …

only a look of divine, compassionating, perfect love, . . a look so pure, so penetrating, so true, so rapturous, that flesh and blood could bear the glory of her transfigured Presence no longer,—and blind with the burning effulgence of her beauty, he shut his eyes and covered his face. He knew now, if he had never known it before, what was meant by “an Angel standing in the sun!”

[Footnote: Revelation, chap, xix., 17.] Moreover, he also knew that what Humanity calls “miracles” ARE possible, and DO happen,—

and that instead of being violations of the Law of Nature as we understand it, they are but confirmations of that Law in its DEEPER DEPTHS,—depths which, controlled by Spiritual Force alone, have not as yet been sounded by the most searching scientists. And what is Material Force but the visible manifestation of the Spiritual behind it? … He who accepts the Material and denies the Spiritual, is in the untenable position of one who admits an Effect and denies a Cause! And if both Spiritual and Material BE

accepted, then how can we reasonably dare to set a limit to the manifestations of either the one or the other?

 

*

 

When he at last looked up, Edris had vanished! He was alone, . .

alone on the Field of Ardath, … the field that was “barren” in very truth, now she, his Angel, had been drawn away, as it seemed, into the sunlight, . . absorbed like a paradise-pearl into those rays of life-giving gold that lit and warmed the reddening earth and heaven!

 

Slowly and dizzily he rose to his feet, and gazed about him in vague bewilderment. He had passed ONE NIGHT on the field! One night only! … and he felt as though he had lived through years of experience! Now, the VISION was ended, . . Edris, the REALITY, had fled, . . and the World was before him, . . the World, with all the unsatisfying things it grudgingly offers, . . the World in which Al-Kyris had been a “City Magnificent” in the centuries gone,—and in which he, too, had played his part before, and had won fame, to be forgotten as soon as dead! Fame! … how he had longed and thirsted for it! … and what a foolish, undesirable distinction it seemed to him now!

 

Steadying his thoughts by a few moments of calm reflection, he remembered what he had in charge to do, . . TO REDEEM HIS PAST. To use and expend whatever force was in him for the good, the help, the consolement, and