by John Fowles
A. What I was is ashes, it is punishment for my long and wilful blindness.
Q. That answers not my question.
A. Christ's mercy comes oft where it seems least deserved.
Q. There I'll not dispute, mistress.
A. It cannot be for what I was, nor what I am, tho' that is better than what I was. It shall be for what I do.
Q. What shall you do?
A. What women are in this world to do, whether they will it or not.
Q. All this has taken place that you may be by child?
A. The child I bear is but the carnal sign.
Q. Sign of what?
A. More light and more love.
Q. The child shall bring them, or you by giving it birth shall do so?
A. She shall bring the more.
Q. What, are you so certain she shall be of your sex? Answer.
A. I cannot, in thy alphabet.
Q. Mistress, there is one and one only alphabet, that is plain English. How are you certain of this?
A. I know not, save I am.
Q. And when she is grown, I doubt not she shall preach and prophesy.
A. She shall be handmaid to Holy Mother Wisdom.
Q. Is it not to a most wicked and blasphemous greater station still that you aspire for her? (Non respondet.) Have I not plumbed thy depths? Is it not so among thy prophets? Do they not most impiously assever that when Christ is come again, He shall be changed to woman? May God forgive me for uttering the very thought, dost thee not in secret believe there is now carried in thy womb such a woman-Christ?
A. No, no, I swear no, I am not so vain, I have never said this, even to my inmost heart.
Q. Said it, thou mayst not. I wager thou'st thought it.
A. No, I say no. How should such a one come from so great a sinner?
Q. How indeed, unless she believed herself grown saint - as well she might, having been vouchsafed to meet God and His Son, and the Holy Spirit beside. Do you deny that by your prophetick lights such a Christ in petticoats may come?
A. I deny with all my soul I have believed it she I carry.
Q. Be not so modest, mistress. You have been honoured by the most high. Why should you not believe a diviner seed than that of Dick at work inside you?
A. Thee would snare me. Thee knows not what it is to be woman.
Q. I have a wife, and two daughters both older than you, and grand-daughters beside. What is woman? Mistress, i have heard that riddle, and had it answered.
A. No riddle. As I was used when whore, so I may be used still. And all women beside.
Q. How, all women are whores?
A. Whores in this. We may not say what we believe, nor say what we think, for fear we be mocked because we are women. If men think a thing be so, so must it be, we must obey. I speak not of thee alone, it is so with all men, and everywhere. Holy Mother Wisdom is not heard nor seen, nor what she might bring if she were let.
Q. What she would bring, we'll pass. I'd know what you would bring in the womb, mistress.
A. She I carry, yea, she shall be more than I, I am but brought to bring her. That she shall be Jesus Christ who comes, I say I am not worthy, nor so vain. Whoever she shall be, I shall not weep, no, but shall thank the Lord with all my heart I was given her. And 'tis time I tell thee this more. His Lordship was not lord in this world alone, but in a far greater, that he must conceal. What I took as his cruelty was his kindness, tho' I saw it not at the first, and sign also he saw this world's people do live in the night of Antichrist. He spake most often in such a manner he might not be obliged to say what he was, unless to those that grace awakened. Yea, he was as one that finds himself in a country at war with his own, where he must dissemble his true allegiance; yet would not hide all, to those he might trust or had hope in. Mistake not, I do not say he was He of the Book. I say he was of His spirit, and both spake and did for Him, in His name. I spake this yesterday of his Lordship and his man, how in much they seemed as one. And now do I see they were as one in truth, Dick of the carnal and imperfect body, his Lordship of the spirit; such twin natures as we all must hold, in them made outward and a seeming two. And as Jesus Christ's body must die upon the Cross, so must this latterday earthly self, poor unregenerate Dick, die so the other half be saved. I tell thee now again I believe that other self shall be seen no more upon this earth, no not ever as he has been; yet is he not dead, but lives in June Eternal, and is one with Jesus Christ, as I saw. There, I have said it plain, too short and plain, and thee will not believe.
Q. You say, his Lordship was carried away upon this maggotmachine, it was sent divinely to bear him from this world?
A. Yes.
Q. Despite he first hired you and set you to great lewdness?
A. So I might see there lay the road to Hell. He took no part nor pleasure in it.
Q. Despite his other self, this carnal self you speak of, this brute Dick, did take such pleasure?
A. For which he must die. It became not, after that first, base or lewd pleasure; but as I said, pity and affection, which it surprised me I felt so strong, as I said; and could not understand it should be thus. Now I know he who wept in my arms was the fallen half, the flesh, the shadow beneath the light, and suffered in such knowledge; so Christ, when He cried was forsaken.
Q. Despite most of all, that none other has seen this in them? I gave you truth there, mistress. The master disdainful of all expected of his noble rank, disobedient of his gracious father, disrespectful of God, rebellious to family duty, the servant closer kin to a beast than to a human being; so might be said of them, so were they to all the world save you.
A. I care not what other people believed. I know only what I believe myself; and shall do, till I die.
Q. You say his Lordship must conceal, he must dissemble his true allegiance, to wit that he is, or was, of the spirit of the Redeemer. How is this, mistress? Is it so Our Lord conducted himself - did He not most eximiously hold truth above all else? Why, does the Evangel ever bear report of Him concealing and dissembling, like some two-faced spy in fear for his own skin? What say you to that? Is it not blasphemy even to think it?
A. The Pharisees are grown strong.
Q. What mean you by that?
A. Christ cannot come as He would to this world, it is too dark with sin. He shall come when it is purged of Antichrist, in all His glory. In these presents He should be crucified again, if He were known to be among us, and did teach as He taught before; and the more so, should He come as woman. All would be as thee, and put him to mock and scorn, crying that God cannot partake of the sex of Eve, it is blasphemy. He shall come when Christians are grown true Christians again, as they were at the first. Then shall He come as He is, or She as She is.
Q. Meanwhile there are ventured only surrogates and agents, is it so?
A. Thee'd see all by this world's lights. Hast thee not read the Apostles? Except a man be born again, he cannot see the kingdom of God. Things seen are temporal; unseen, is eternal. Faith is the substance of things hoped for, the evidence of things not seen. So did God frame this world. Thee'd keep me still cunning harlot, thee'd keep his Lordship still disobedient son, and Dick, mere beast. If so thee see, so it must be, thee cannot change. Once only born, thee must live by thy lights, willy-nilly.
Q. Mistress, this stinks of rank pride, for all your face of humility.
A. I am proud in Christ, but naught else. I will speak for His light, notwithstanding I speak it ill.
Q. And in defiance of all common and prescribed belief?
A. Christ's kingdom is not must. If a thing must be, it is not of Christ. A harlot must be always harlot, is not Christ. Man must rule always over woman, is not Christ. Children must starve, is not Christ. All must suffer for what they are born, is not Christ. No must by this world's lights is Christ. It is darkness, 'tis the sepulchre this world doth lie in for its sins.
Q. Now you would deny the very heart of Christianity. Doth the sacred Bible not prescribe our duty, what we mu
st do?
A. It tells what it is best we do, not what we must; for many do not do it.
Q. Must we not obey Christ?
A. If first we are free not to obey Him; for He would have us choose Him freely, therefore we must be free also to choose evil and sin and darkness. There is no must in that. So have I heard Brother Wardley speak. Christ dwells always in tomorrow, in hope however much we sin and are blind today, tomorrow the scales shall drop and we be saved. And further, how all His divine power and His mystery must lie in this, that He tells us man may change of his own will; and by His grace, so be redeemed.
Q. This your belief you have taken of Wardley?
A. Also of my own mind, when I look upon my past life, and this present.
Q. Does not this belief, that man may change, the which any reasonable man may approve in matters of the soul and its redemption, not show itself a most opprobious and dangerous principle when it is carried into matters of this world? Must it not lead to civil war and revolution, to the upsetting of all lawful order? Does it not become the most wicked notion that every man must change, and be brought to his change by bloody force and cruel tumult if he will not do so of his own free will?
A. Such change is not of Christ. Even though it be done in His name.
Q, Is not this why the Prophets have parted company with the Quakers - who will not take sword in hand for their beliefs?
A. 'Tis no more true than wheaten bread is brown. We would conquer by our faith and by persuasion alone; not by the sword. Such is not Christ's way.
Q. Then now you deny Wardley. For yesterday he did proclaim to me he would go sword in hand against those who did not believe as he did; and made other contumacious threats upon the present government of this nation.
A. He is man.
Q. And seditious.
A. I know him better than thee. Among his own, he is kind and compassionate. And of good sense, except where he is threatened by persecution.
Q. I tell thee, he has no good sense, and one day soon shall suffer for it. No matter, enough of thy sermoning. Let us come now to Dick. You would make more of him than any who knew him before. Do you say behind his outward there was hidden one less lacking?
A. He did suffer for what he was, he was no beast in that.
Q. Do you say as much, he understood far better than most supposed?
A. He understood he was fallen.
Q. And else beside? You have said most high things of his master. What make you of this: was it not Dick who did seem to lead on the last morning? He, not his Lordship, who seemed best to know when you should leave the highway, as when you should dismount and proceed afoot? He who did first mount above while his Lordship and you did wait below?
A. Some knowledge in him there was that more complete men, even such as his Lordship, lack.
Q. You saw nowhere evidence to conclude either had been in these parts on previous occasion?
A. None.
Q. It must seem that Dick had known the place, by what he did? You have no suspicion, by what means he knew?
A. He knew not of God by rote; yet of his heart. As beasts may return home, though lost at great distance from it, and no man to guide them.
Q. Do you maintain, your June Eternal and your visions was as home to him?
A. He did greet Holy Mother Wisdom when first she came to us so a faithful dog long kept from its mistress, who now must fawn upon her.
Q. Jones said he did run from the cavern before you came out yourself as one in great fear and horror, that had but a single thought, to escape. What dog does so, having refound its mistress?
A. One that cannot cross its sin, and is not fit.
Q. Why doth this Holy Mother Wisdom, that will show such kindness and mercy to you, show none to a poor creature? Why is he let to run off and commit this great sin of felo de se?
A. Thee'd have me answer what only God can answer.
Q. I'd have thee answer what I may believe.
A. I cannot.
Q. Then I'll put such an answer in thy mind. Might he not in his ignorance be moved by one likely cause alone, that he did see his Lordship killed before his eyes, or snatched away, in some manner henceforth lost to him as protector?
A. I know not what passed, I slept.
Q. Mistress, first, he leads you to this place, which doth further lead to the presumption he knew what should pass there; yet despite this, what doth pass doth bring him to end his days. Is not this most dark?
A. All is dark if God wills it.
Q. And dark also, woman, tho' falsely so, if you yourself will answer thus, and play the self-elected saint among the clouds, above such flim-flam things as common reason. I marked it when first I told you Dick was dead. What woman hears the father of the child she bears is dead, and makes so little cry and to-do as you? As if she but hears of a nobody's death? Yet who declares herself later more enamoured of him than of any other, she, why she of all women, who's known more lovers than stinking flesh has blow-flies? Who answers now she cannot tell, she cannot know, the matter is of no consequence? What of this?
A. This of it, I do bear his child, and yet my heart rejoices he is dead; and that for his sake, not mine. Now he shall rise again, without his sins.
Q. Is this your Christian fellowship?
A. I say again, thee'd have me mirror of my sex, that thine has made. I will not suit. I have told thee I was harlot still, I did sate his lust; for so was he, lust incarnate, as bull or stallion. Can thee not see I am changed, I am harlot no more, I am Christ's reborn, I have seen June Eternal? I will not suit. By faith the harlot Rahab perished not with them.
Q. Thou art worse than reformed harlot. Thou art bishopess, woman, why, thou'dst dare to make a theology of thy foolish fancyings, thy flibberty-gibberty dreamings with thy June Eternals here, thy Holy Mother Wisdoms there - what right hast thou to coin such names, when even thy fellow conventiclers know them not?
A. I have told them to none save thee, nor shall not. Other names beside I have not told thee, nor shall not. All are no more than words in this world, tho' signs to greater than words hereafter. Are thy steeple-house hymns and anthems evil, that use words to rejoice in the Lord? Are they not to praise Him, 'less licensed by government?
Q. Watch thy tongue.
A. If thee'll watch thine.
Q. This is brazen impudence.
A. 'Twas not I that provoked it.
Q. Enough. It was this, to thy mind Dick died by guilt of his lust for thee?
A. So he might cross and deny his fleshly self, that sinned.
Q. Thou wast never by child before?
A. No.
Q. Tho' with more than ample chance. How many times wast thou ridden, of a busy night? (Non respondet.) A pox on thy piety, answer. (Non respondet.) No matter, I may guess. What of this bastard thou'dst palm off on thy man?
A. My barrenness was Christ's will; and His will, that I am what I now am. My husband shall be her father in this world, as Joseph to Jesus, she shall be no bastard.
Q. What of its father not in this world?
A. Thy world is not my world, nor Jesus Christ's neither.
Q. I will have it said what thou'dst hide from me, woman. Which is the most father in thy unruly mind-is it Dick or is it his Lordship?
A. His Lordship is what he is, no less, no more; which is not father in this world.
Q. But in another thou dost count him so?
A. Of the spirit, not the seed.
Q. Is it not divinely appointed it is sin to rebel against the authority of man? Witnessed in the Almighty's first act, and ever after?
A. 'Tis reported so, by men.
Q. The Holy Bible is false witness?
A. Witness from one side alone. Which fault lies in man, not in God or His Son. Eve came of Adam's rib, so 'tis said in the second of Genesis. In the first 'tis said God created man and woman in His own image, male and female created He them. Which Our Lord Jesus Christ did further speak of in the Gospel of St. Matthew
, the nineteenth chapter; and there nothing of ribs, but of Moses, who did allow men to put away their wives. And Jesus Christ said, from the beginning it was not so. Equal were they made.
Q. I do not believe thee a new-born woman, no, not one tittle, beneath thy plain cap and petticoat. Thou hast found a new vice, that is all. Thy pleasure's now to fly in the face of all our forefathers have in their wisdom told us we must believe; there hast thou malignantly found shot to weight a base resentment. Thou wert drab to serve men for their pleasure, was it not so? And now thou'dst have them serve thine, and put off the old as a ribband, a last year's fashion, thou cunning jade. Religion is thy mask, no more. 'Tis all the better to have thy unwomanly revenge.
A. Thee'll not snare me so.
Q. Snare, snare, what snare?
A. Thee'd have me say I am lost in revenge, as termagant or virago; and cannot answer to the good reason for fear it be taken for the bad.
A. I'll tell thee my evil purpose. Most in this world is unjust by act of man, not of Our Lord Jesus Christ. Change that is my purpose.
* * *
Ayscough stares at her, this assertion once made. Now it is he who is slow to reply. She sits bolt upright in her armless wood chair, hands as always on her lap, intent on his eyes, as if she faced the Antichrist in person. Her eyes may hold still some hint of meekness, but her face seems pinched, determined to be obdurate, to concede nothing. Ayscough speaks at last, it seems rather more of her, than to her.
'Thou art a liar, woman. Thou art a liar.'
There is no reaction in her expression. John Tudor looks up at her from his shorthand, as he has often in the interrogatory, during such pauses. She stares. So it has gone, since the beginning; always the lawyer on the attack, always Rebecca staring, slow-answering in her manner. It has become obvious Ayscough's patience grows thin. He had opted to begin in a kinder, more polite way than on the previous day; yet as things wore on, knew she did not give to such pretended respect. Neither soft nor hard words would break her, reveal the enigma she hid: what really happened. Once or twice his mind slipped back to the days of the real question; interrogation aided by rack and thumbscrew. By that method at least one had got to the bottom; but the Bill of Rights had ended such procedures in England. Except for high treason, they survived only in wicked and degenerate Catholic countries like France; and for all his faults Ayscough was English, not French. That did not prevent him feeling a growing ill temper.