by George Moore
We will return, said they, to the lord with thine insolent answer, and she saw the angels spread their wings and depart up into the beautiful morning sky, passing over the clouds into the blue spaces beyond. They will reach the ramparts of heaven before many hours have passed, she said to herself.
CHAPTER 35.
IAHVEH IS IMPATIENT and restless, Lilith said, for she could see him in her well looking over the battlements awaiting his archangels; and she could see too the scouting cohorts of seraphim and cherubim that he had sent forth, seeking the wings of their brethren on every horizon. At last one of the winged messengers stood before the lord. Michael and Gabriel and Raphael have been seen by our distant brethren, he said, and they have passed the word on to us. I have arrived with the news for the lord, glad to be the first to bring it. At these words the angels broke into song, and spreading out their wings they formed circle-wise around the lord, who, after thanking them, dismissed them abruptly, his mind being perturbed and beset with thoughts of the news that his archangels were bringing to him.
All things were reflected in his wisdom; he was distraught thereby, and Michael, Gabriel and Raphael dared not advance from the battlement on which they had alighted. Our lord Iahveh, said Michael, after many wanderings we return to thee. Is Lilith returning to Adam? the lord asked. We were flying one night above an island — Michael began. Her words were, Lord, Gabriel interjected, that she was one of Lucifer’s vassals and obedient only unto him. Whereat a cloud gathered on the lord’s face, and Michael and Raphael regretted Gabriel’s admission that Lilith had vowed herself unto Satan. Whereupon Iahveh’s face was like the whirlwind, and the mountains shook with his voice. She will not return to Adam, the Lord repeated, and the subaltern angels hid themselves in the clefts. A companion must be given to Adam, for I have promised him one. Tell me of your discovery of Lilith; and begin thy narrative, he said, raising his eyes to Michael, Michael began: But God was listless and gave a poor ear to the story of the great flying excursion, wonderful though it was; and Gabriel, seeing that Michael was speaking dryly, began to grow impatient, and might have related the curious dreams that befell them in the cave if the Lord had not dismissed his archangels suddenly, saying: leave me to meditate. And for many days the Lord sat in his golden chair, his brow darkened by the shadows of coming difficulties, his thoughts revolving in memories of his wars against the highest and best-beloved of the archangels.
Lucifer had plotted against him, the cohorts had been at battle pursuing the foe or being pursued by the foe, æon after æon. Heaven was without music of harp and lyre, only the clash of swords and shields was heard echoing from æon to æon, while the war was pursued from star to star across the sky and down the sky, angels falling into the pit and rising out of the pit to renew the fight. But at last the Lord’s angels discovered a way to victory, the evil angels were enclosed within the gates of hell, and when the gates clashed upon them, the Lord said: we are at peace again; the weariness of battle is over, and peace broods once more in heaven. But my perplexities are not over yet. I have created an earth so that I may have a garden in which to place Adam, whom I wish to separate from the other neutrals. Let my will be done, said the Lord, and instantly Adam found himself in a garden with Lilith for his ghostly visitor, till Lucifer, who still plotted against the Lord, bade her away from Adam, for in his evil heart he hoped through Adam to bring Iahveh’s kingdom to naught. He must have a companion, said the Lord, for after his great victory over Lucifer the Lord’s heart was softened, and he was moved to abide in peace in his heaven among the angels, listening to their glorifications, to their praise, to their songs, to the music of harp and of timbrel year after year, century after century, æon after æon. But over Iahveh himself is a law, and by virtue of that law I am compelled to create, to equalise all things, to pair all. Again the Lord was troubled, and he asked himself in vain why this was so, for was he not, since Lucifer’s overthrow, almighty? almighty, yes, but he must create, though his creations might lead to his own destruction in some distant time. A fate there is behind the gods surely, he muttered once again and, compelled by his fate, he descended one night into the garden of Eden and reached out his hand to take a rib out of the side of Adam, and with that rib he made a creature like unto Adam, and when Adam woke in the morning he found God’s last work, Eve, sleeping by his side.
God was pleased with his work, and Adam wondered at her shape, Eve’s sloping shoulders surprised him, and her bosom even more so; he could not understand why she should bulge under her throat; and he said she is so heavy about the hips, that she’ll never be much good at the climbing of trees after fruit; I shall have to climb and shake the branches for her. The other differences in her shape seemed to him still more strange; she seemed to him incomplete, and wondering at her incompleteness he walked towards the river, thinking that she seemed to need washing and would smell the sweeter after plunging. As he was about to turn back to ask her to come to the river with him he remembered that to rouse her would be unkind, so peaceful was her sleep and so healthful did it seem. So he turned towards the river again, but his steps had awakened Eve, who, sitting up on her buttocks, watched him, and the instinct of pursuit arising in her in an instant, she followed him, stumbling over the ground in her great hurry.
Over the brink he went head foremost into a deep pool, and she, knowing nothing of water and its dangers, tumbled in after him, making a great plop, fortunately causing him to look round, and, seeing what had happened, Adam dived. He didn’t recover her, and dived again, and this time he managed to get hold of her by the hair, and by it he towed her to the bank and laid her out, wondering why she lay so still. It might be well to let some of the water run out of her, he said to himself, so he turned her over, and when she had vomited forth her eyes opened, and it was not long before she was sitting up and asking Adam to tell her what had fallen out. Thou art Eve, he answered, the companion that Iahveh promised me. We are in Eden; and the river is for swimmers, and until thou hast learnt to swim thou must not venture into the deep pools. But I will teach the art to thee; and it pleased Eve to hear that she was going to learn from Adam. But shall I go under the water? she asked. Adam answered that he would support her. She liked to hear that his hand would be under her chin. But her thoughts turning from to-morrow suddenly, she said: but thou hast not told me how I came hither.
Adam looked forward to telling her the whole story, for since he had washed her as she lay unconscious on the bank, and disentangled her hair, she had begun to seem different in his eyes, and they went through the garden together, Adam showing the fruit trees that abounded, giving her fruit to eat, and Eve gathering flowers, wherewith to weave into a wreath for her hair.
Iahveh gave thee to me for I was lonely in this garden, he said, and her eyes brightened, and she said: who is Iahveh? Hush, said Adam, the sacred name must be spoken more reverently; he put his fingers to his lips, and the alarmed twain stood gazing at the pillared fir-trees that grew round the stone altar, their skins drying quickly in the warm air. A touch of autumn was in it, but the sun was glowing, and when the lonely cloud that had hidden the sun for a minute passed on, the garden by the spell of contrast seemed more beautiful than before. Come thou with me to his altar, Eve: I would thank him for his gift to me of thee, and they went up the path, and as soon as he had thrown himself on the ground and bowed himself three times, and muttered in his beard, he arose and, taking Eve’s hand in his, he said: by Iahveh’s altar I will tell the story of Iahveh’s wars against Lucifer.
Eve listened because Adam’s voice pleased her, but she would rather have heard his voice on a subject nearer to them than the clashing of shields of long ago, the hurling of swords and the thrusting of spears in the abyss; and despite her desire to please Adam her thoughts were often away from the conflicts that had taken place in the middle air over against the ramparts of heaven and about the gates of the pit.
Adam was at this time a young man of comely presence, tall and lithe, and Eve w
ould not have had his shoulders different from what they were. They flanged out from the neck nobly, and she liked his long, thin, sinewy arms, and the big hands that she could see were stronger than hers. His chest is flat and the hips narrow; his legs are long and sinewy, not round, like mine, she said. I like his shape, she murmured, and hoped that he liked hers. Now of what are you thinking? he said. I was thinking, she answered, that if thou hadst headed the army of Lucifer thou wouldst have conquered Iahveh. Adam’s face filled with shadow, so lightly did she speak the name, and he said: thou must not think such wicked thoughts, and leaving the altar he paced before her. His steps pleased her, so strong and rhythmical were they, and she enjoyed his back, so strong did it seem. Thou art the most beautiful thing in this garden, she said, and my eyes will never weary of overlooking thee. Now what is this hairy thing I see, and what use is it? she said. And Adam did not answer her. He was thinking the while of the great battles of long ago, the clashing of the shields and the dense array of spears, but at last her hands awoke him from his reverie. Don’t pull it so, he said, and she loosed his beard. Why have I not one? she asked; my poor face is bare. But it is more beautiful bare than hairy. I have often wished to be without my beard. But I would not wish thee without it, she answered, and each was a gazing stock to the other. Adam’s muscles were Eve’s admiration, and the sweet roundnesses of Eve’s limbs, Adam’s. Why these breasts? he said. Dost not like them? she asked. Yes; they are beautiful. How flat and shapeless am I. Say not so, thou art very beautiful, Adam. How much stronger, how much fleeter, and she continued to find pleasure in Adam as they walked along and across the garden under the fruit trees, eating of the purple figs and the pink peaches, Adam showing how the fruit must be skinned before it can be eaten and Eve doing as she was bidden: though her appetite had not yet begun to awaken she ate the fruit, for she could not do anything except that which she thought would please Adam. But thou wilt not listen to the valour of the angels, said Adam. I will listen, she replied, when I grow weary of looking upon thee. But wilt thou grow weary of me? Adam asked. And they fell to pondering on the chance words that had been uttered. At last Eve asked: whither leads that path? It leads, he answered, to the fig-trees, under whose shelter I sleep at night. Let us go thither, for I would share thy bed, she said. Thou shalt share it, Eve, but before we lie down together thou must learn to pray to Iahveh.
Eve had little heart for learning prayers, and his face telling his disapprobation, she said: thou art not satisfied with me. And on these words they fell asleep on the flowering bank. And they slept till morning arose on the garden, as children do.
CHAPTER 36.
IT WAS THE sparrows twittering in the vine that awoke Adam, and laying his hand on Eve’s shoulder, who was still asleep, he said: the day is beginning; come, let us offer thanks to Iahveh for the joyful light, and Eve, rousing herself from her sleep, said: thy will be done, and she followed Adam up the hill-side, and imitated him in all things, throwing herself on the ground and bowing herself three times; and when this ritual was accomplished she gave ear to Adam’s prolonged mutterings, and strove to understand them, but soon her brain wearied, and she might have renounced the task of trying to follow his repentance for the sins he had committed in heaven if she had not suddenly heard the name of Lilith. Now who can Lilith be? One of the angels of whom Adam tells such long stories? she asked herself. Somebody he knew before the fall, she added, and resolved to await an occasion when she could inquire of him who Lilith might be. Nor was it long before she heard him speak of Lilith’s visits to the garden. By whose orders did she come to the garden: Iahveh’s or Lucifer’s? she asked herself, and the question would have been put to Adam if he had not been muttering prayers, and if the thought had not come to Eve that it might be well for her to get a confession from Adam that the memory of the days he had spent in the garden with Lilith were still dear to him. Iahveh is but a blind, she said, as she set the peaches and figs she had gathered before Adam; and while he ate thereof she began to speak to him of their thanksgivings, and offerings of fruits, and to tell the hope she cherished that the day’s work before them would be pleasing to Iahveh, making herself pleasing to Adam thereby and advancing herself still further in his favour when she returned to the stories he had told her yesterday as if she had been considering them ever since: the clashing of the shields when Iahveh’s angels descended to give battle unto Lucifer; how Gabriel whirled his sword and an entire legion fell before it, and how a plump of spears fell back before Michael’s spear. On these feats and on the recital of Raphael’s ruses in outflanking the enemy, Adam relied to engage her mind, and remembering how languidly she had listened yesterday he was overjoyed at seeing that he had in the main misjudged her, and began to relate the story over again from the beginning, watching her carefully all the time; but her attention never relaxed, and she showed desire to be instructed, saying: thou wast wise not to join with Lucifer’s angels, for Iahveh is all-powerful, and knowing him to be all-powerful, thou hadst the wisdom to refrain. I knew the power of Iahveh the almighty, Adam answered her. And Lucifer, she said, must have known that too. Yes, he too knew him to be an almighty God. Then why, she asked innocently, did Lucifer rebel against that which he knew to be almighty?
At this question a cloud came into Adam’s face, and he began a tangled explanation to which Eve listened, knowing well that the thing she desired to hear would soon be made known to her. So she had patience with Adam, and listened to his prolix relation that although God was almighty he had, as it were, delegated the administration of evil to Lucifer, reserving to himself the administration of all good things. This was the first circle of thought into which Adam descended. He descended into still further circles, and with Eve’s eyes upon him he couldn’t doubt that she listened. But did she understand? he asked himself, and was satisfied that she did. And then, as if picking up her thoughts a little farther on, Eve said: thou wast lonely in the garden before he gave me to thee? and Adam answered innocently: not lonely, for there was Lilith. At which she opened her eyes as if she had not heard the name before, and asked: who is Lilith? Who is Lilith? Adam answered; and he seemed to drop back into a past time and away from her.
The sound of her name carried him as a sudden breeze carries a barque from the shore out into the sea. He seemed to forget the woman by his side, and when he spoke it was not Eve that prompted him to speak but a sudden memory. Lilith, he said, was my wife before thou earnest. We were angels in heaven before the fall. Adam’s thoughts seemed to die away, and Eve had to awaken him with her voice. And she came to visit thee in the garden? She came to me, he answered, between waking and sleeping and in dreams. Didst never see her in the noonday as thou seest me? Eve asked. And Adam knew not how to shape an answer that Eve would understand, for Lilith was clear to Adam only so long as he did not try to express her in words, or think about her too closely.
The mist at the edge of the stream vanishes in the morning when the sun’s heat is strong, and the mist returns to the edge of the stream when the sun sinks behind the hills. She was evanescent, Alec, as the mist, yet she was very real, more real than Eve sitting by him; Adam could not put his thoughts into words and Eve would not have understood him if he had said: Lilith is the reality behind the appearance. By appearance I mean all that our senses reveal to us. An orange will serve for an example. We know an orange only through our senses — sight, hearing, touch and smell — but it may be held that there is something behind the appearance and that if we willingly forgo the appearance we reach reality, that which is behind the appearance. You find it difficult to follow this, Alec, but the hermit that you told me of, Scothine, who lived in the woods on watercress and on the crags by the sea on gulls’ eggs, may have gained the reality that is perhaps behind the appearance. Be this as it may, that was his aim: he was, in something more than the conventional sense of the words, a seeker of reality. We are always told, Alex answered, by the clergy that the world we live in is but a shape of the real world that is be
yond heaven, is it that you would be telling me, sir? Well, not exactly that, Alec, but something like that. And now, to get on with the story. Eve listened to Adam, trying to puzzle out his idea of Lilith to her, all the while mad jealous she was of this ghostly playmate who used to come to him in dreams, bringing such anguish of delight with her. But she was, begob, too wise a woman to show her jealousy, and she continued to listen to Adam, who, she could see, gained great pleasure from his narrative, he being one of those who retired into the past as some do into a church. At times we’d all like to get the world behind us. And in these moments we’re all seekers of reality, Alec. I think that I’m beginning to comprehend, he answered. But women aren’t like that, I’m thinking; for them life is all in the present.
CHAPTER 37.
IF THOU WOULDST learn swimming, come with me to the river, said Adam, and Eve followed Adam thither, doubtful, without enthusiasm, one might say in fear, for since yesterday her memory of the suffocating moments that she had passed under the water was more distinct. But Adam was firm with her; and supporting her with one hand, he bade her put her trust in him, and told her that in a little while she would cross the river as easily as the animal swimming in the current yonder. Ah, now he has gone under. Drowned, said Eve. No; he has come up yonder. He has caught a fish. Eve had not yet seen any fishes, and began to be interested in them, and in the animal that had caught the fish. Trust thyself to me, Adam said; and let thy legs and hands move together.
Eve was now tired, and begged to be allowed to return to the bank, but after resting, the swimming lesson was continued, and with so much success that hope was held out to her that she would be able to cross the river in a few days, a thing which she very much wished to do, for the brown animals they had seen diving in the current brought the fish they caught in their jaws to a great flat rock, and Eve was curious to learn what became of the fishes they brought thither. She could see four little brown spots, but did not know that these were the otters’ cubs; nor that otters lived upon fish. And every morning, to please Adam, she applied herself to the task of learning to swim in the pool, and, as he had foreseen, in a few days her arms and legs began to move together, and in a few days more she was on the other side of the river, wading very quietly towards the rock on which the cubs waited.