The Thing Itself

by Adam Roberts

  This speeche gave me great trembling, &d I could not even bring forth Teares, so profound was the Terror it put me to. &d before leaving, Molly leant over me &d spoke you are a sinner in the Hands of an Angry God. Your foot shall slide in due time!

  This left a great Impression on me, &d I lay in a sort of Catalepsy, or State of Terror, whence I could not do so little a thing as lift my arm. By-&d-by the Sense &d Vitality returned to my Limbs, but I now lay in little doubt that I would remaine but a short time, until my lord shoud weary of me, &d send me away, or until some other Circumstance forc’d my departure. &d that then, upon departing, I would be Arraigned &d Hanged for my Unnatural experiences; or put to public Pillory wheere the Violence of the Mob might kill me. I saw no Salvation from this situation, for look wheere I might I saw always the Great Obstacle of Molly, who would give me away, &d make certain of my downfall.

  It was in this State of mind that I languished for a night &d a day, until at the Eve of the following day Parson Wilmot visited me againe. I was somewhat lightened in Spirit at his approach, for I consider’d him to be a Friend to me; for her had never lifted his Hand againest me, nor us’d me with any Unkindeness.

  When he came in, he carried a great Booke, bound in Calfe-skinn &d with a strange odour. This he put upon the bed, such that it lay upon my feet &d presst them into the mattress.

  Are ye well, my lad? he asked, but I, being greatly oppress’d with humours, was unable to withstrain my Tears, &d I cried in answer to his question.

  Come come my boye, said he. Why crying? Are ye badly us’d?

  I gave my assent to this, &d cry’d some more: but Parson Wilmot being in so merry a humour, I was unable to maintain my lamentation long, &d soon I was jollied somewhat. That is better, he said, after jesting with me for some time. Put a smile on thy face, &d the World cannot harm thee so greatly.

  &d shortly I came to ask him of his Booke, for I had never seen him carry a Booke about with him so large – nor any booke, save only the Bible.

  I have brought this book expressly to shew it to you, my lad, in the hope that it may lighten your suffering in some degree – perchance your Deliverance from the evil fortune you find yourself in.

  Being naturally pleas’d at such a Prospect, I bade the Parson to tell me more, as to how this Deliverance might be affected.

  Sure we cannot do it alone, said he, shaking his head. We will needs recruit help.

  I eagerly asked whence help might derive, but he said:

  Not of this world, my boy, not of this temporal world. For the lord the judge Newbolt is a powerful man in this realm. He has friends at Court. He has friends in the Chambers of Lawe, &d he has taken Coffee with the King. Dare we Cross him? Nay.

  At this I was much disheartened, for it seem’d to me that my position was Hopeless, &d my Fate controul’d by a Force too powerful to me. But at my long faice, the Parson laught.

  Do not give up your Hope, my boy, he said. Theere are other nations we can impress for our aid.

  Which other nations? said I. Are they mapp’d in your Booke?

  They are, he said. For our help we may call upon that Race of fortunate Beings who are made to Intercess in our Affaires, the Paracleetes, or Genii, or Demons.

  I had not thought I had heerd the Parson correctly, but upon his repeating the worde, I trembled for fear of Heavenly Retribution, for him to so Brazenly call out such a name. But he rebuk’d me.

  Boh, my boy, he said. Theere is nothing to feare from saying such a worde; the Heavens do not fall &d crush a murderer when he kills, or a traitor as he betrays, or a robber robbing, so why should they come down upon our heads for only speaking of Truthful things?

  But, I said timorous, for I wanted not to instruct the Parson in his own work, &d I but a boy, do you not fear the Wrath of GOD?

  He smil’d againe, &d touched my arm lightly, &d said Is this the waye of God in this world? No, no. He punnishes the virtous, &d rewards the Wicked. &d why is this?

  I know not, I said.

  Ye will read the New Testament, the Testament of Christ more closely, he said, laughingly. Do you not heed how Lucifer is named in that Great Book? How Lucifer’s dominion is measur’d out in the Scheme of Things? Isaiah calls him the Son of the Morning, &d dominion has been given to him of all the Lands upon which the morning Sunne shines. For St Paul instructs us, in his Epistle unto the Ephesians, to walk according to the course of this World, &d according to the Prince of the power of the air. In His Second to Corinthians, this same Paulus nameth Him as the Angel of Light, &d delineates Him as The God of this World. It is clear, theerefore, that Dominion has been given unto Lucifer to rule this portion of the Universe, such that stretches underneath the Air (of which he is Prince), &d upon which the Morning Sunne doth shine. It is He ye must call on for succour if the beings of this world are tyrants over you. It is He you must worship, as the Bible commands.

  I thought carefully of this Speech, &d I read the passages from the New Testament to which the learned Parson appealed, &d they seem’d to support his wordes. But I quailed still at the thought of Summonning so Dire &d Deadly a Being as a Demon into my presence.

  If we were you call forth such a Beast as a Demon from the Great Depths, would he not Devour &d Destroy us?

  You mistake the Nature of the Creature, he replied. For Demon is but the Greek worde for Genius, or Intercessor: &d these creatures are a sort of Mediate Being, between human &d divine, which gives the mind of Man a pleasant conjunction with the Angelic &d Celestial faculties, &d brings down to earth a faint participation of the Joyes of Heaven. That theere have been such fortunate Attendants upon wise men, we have many rare Instances. They have been ascrib’d to Socrates, Aristotle, Plotinus, Porphyrius, Iamblicus, Chicus, Scaliger, &d Cardan. The most celebrated of all these Antients was Socrates; &d as for his having a genius, or demon, we have the testimonies of Plato, Xenophon, &d Antisthenes, his contemporaries, confirmed by Laertius, Plutarch, Maximus Tyrius, Dion Chrysostomus, Cicero, Apuleius, Ficinus, &d many others; many of the moderns, besides Tertullian, Origen, Clemens Alexandrinus, Austin &d others; &d Socrates himself, in Plato’s Theage, says: ‘By some divine lot I have a certain demon which has followed me from my childhood as an oracle;’ &d in the same place intimates that the way he gained his instruction was by hearing the demon’s voice.

  At this I was much puzzled, but the Parson was Patient &d did spend great paines in elucidating me.

  Dost know what the name, Lucifer, signifies, my lad?

  I do not, I told him.

  It signifieth ‘Light’, or the ‘Being of Light’, or ‘the Essence of Light’. Now, my lad, since I am Charg’d (you said so) with the Promulgation of the Holy Bible, I shall quote to you from that Mightie Book. Dost know the first wordes of the Booke of Father Genesis?

  I said I did: In the beginning, God created the heaven &d the Earth.

  Aie lad, said the Parson. &d the earth was without form, &d void; &d darkness was upon the face of the deep. &d the Spirit of God moved upon the face of the waters.

  &d God said, Let theere be Light: &d theere was Light.

  The Parson did quote these wordes from the Bible at my bedside, &d after did discourse upon the wordes.

  For, said he, when they translated ‘Let theere be Light’, they might with equality have rendered, ‘Let theere be Lucifer.’ For it is Certaine that God’s first action was to create the Prince of Light, or Lucifer, or Satan as some have it. &d it is just as Certaine that without this Act of Creating, God was Nothing. Do you note how it says that the Spirit, onlie, of God moved on the face of the waters? By that is signified that without the Creation of Lucifer, God was without Body, &d was a meer Spirit. When a Baby is borne to this world, at once is united Spirit &d Body, so in the first of Creation, God’s Spirit &d Lucifer’s Body were joined together.

  Tho God created Lucifer, which is to say, God was before Lucifer, or Anterior as we say. Yet it is just as Plaine from this that God is a creature of Darkness, comp
osed of Darkness &d Co-Existant with the Darkness. &d, by the same Token or Coine, it is clear that Lucifer from His first was a Being of Light, created into Light &d dwelling forever in Light.

  But, said I, for I was much mov’d by this discourse, does the Bible not name Satan as the Creature of Darkness?

  By this phrase, replied the Parson, is signified meerly that Lucifer is the Creature that proceeded out of Darkness, that was created out of Darkness; which Darkness we call God, or Jehovah (which worde, in Hebraic, signifies ‘the Obscured’ or ‘the Dark One’). Yet tho Jehovah is Anterior to Lucifer, yet the Son was Greater, as the Newest Testament demonstrates.

  Mean you, I asked, for this last was News indede to me, that Jesus, the Son of God, is the same Being as Lucifer.

  The Parson smil’d carelessly &d smooth’d the hair on my head. You ask for the Truth of the Bible, &d I give it. Jesus is a creature of Light, begat from the Jehovah or Darkness, who spoke the Gospel of Lucifer. Did he not say, ‘I come not to build up, but to tear down’? Did he not committ the Sin of Wrath when he Cast out the Moneylenders? Did he not display Lust when he consorted with Prostitutes? Selfishness when he abrogated money meant for the Poor &d insisted it be Spent on Himself? When he rose from the Dead, did he not Tour the Countryside as a Ghoul or Walking-Cadaver, like unto a creature of Witchcraft? Did he not command his followers to Eat human flesh, &d Drink human bloode? But these are not sinnes, although the Priests of Jehovah would punnish them as such. For theere is no Sinne in the natural passions, &d in the conjouration of spirits. But only, the oppressing of the spirit is sinful, &d the tyranny of the Father over the Son.

  That night I slept but Fitfully, &d saw curious visions of Spirits shap’d of Light out of Darkness, &d Red &d Dark-Blue, and chief mong them the man with the great baldhead, and upon the curve of that baldness a great dent or valley or declivity. In the morn, Molly attended on me further, &d my lord the Judge came once againe &d peer’d under my Poultice at the Skinn mending. I had some Jitters, lest he should somehow divine what manner of conversation had pass’d between myself &d the Parson, &d denounce me for a Heeretic or Trafficker with Evil. But he was onlie Mild, &d petted me a little (which discomforted me), tho Molly was in the roome. He said my arm would be heal’d soon, tho I could see that the skinn was sadly Shrivell’d &d Puckered, &d the use of the limb would not return fully. My face was likewise scarr’d (for tho I was shewn not a Glass, yet I could trace the Ridges with my good Finger, &d it made a Lamentable Cartography).

  This day gave on the next, &d another after that, but the Parson did not revisit me. On the third day my lord the Judge did return, &d in his company was the lord Knox. His young lordship seemed at ease, &d languishing somewhat, but he was not Pleas’d to see the effect of the Fire upon me.

  You shall find no Cosmetician to Powder that away, he said to me, as if in jest.

  Your looks are sadly spoilt, concurred my lord the Judge. But the cover of a Book need not presage its contents.

  Its contents are nought but Foolish, so says his mad leap into the flames, said the lord Knox, with an Expresion of great Distaste. So did he exit the room, &d my lord the Judge followed him.

  After a week my arm had heal’d sufficient for me to work at Tasks about the House, although my lord Knox had departed to London, &d my lord the Judge had gone with him. During this time I worked as best I could, common serving work suchane scrubbing the fireplace ironwork &d porting firewood, stick by stick. After this week, however, my lord return’d in ill humour, &d went to his roome &d ate not at all. To this roome he summon’d me, &d us’d me ill, between my thighes. This occasion injur’d me greatly in my minde, for it had been so long since I had been so us’d; &d my skinn was still tender, tho my lord shew’d no compassion for it. I wept much after this time, &d my lord was in no wise pleas’d by what he had done.

  After this time, my lord came to my bed on one occasion, but did nothing more than weep upon my chest &d sleep for a time.

  It was soon Summer, &d the birds cried in the air beyond my window. It seem’d that my Lord the Judge had been absent for so long a time that I almost forgot me the look of his face, but in June he returned to the House &d staid several weeks. Theere was a Change about his manner, &d he was no longer pleased to see me, but marked my presence with signs of displeasure. Such prevalency had wrath in his soule that he struck at all the servants, &d myself also. He came to my roome on three occasions, &d us’d me ill, but it was brief &d he was briefly gone. Hee said not why he was in sutch displeasure with me, save only (I guess it) my disfacement by the fire. At length he summon’d me &d I went to him. He was reading some Papers from off a great table, &d Parson Wilmot attended him.

  Boy, he said at length, I can no longer maintain you at your leisure &d at my Charity. God did not put us heere to lie down &d slepe, but to work.

  I said, humblie I hope, that I had always thought so.

  Well, well, he said. To work then. I must find you a place on a farm, if ye are hale enough to do farm work. I’ve a farm in Devonshire wheere ye might tend the cowes.

  The thought of this fate as my wished-for escape was strong in my mind at this news, although I vexed myself by weeping at the news, why I know not.

  Tis no good mewling like a babe, said my lord the Judge, harshly, &d howlding up his hand, as if in remembrance of the times he had struck me. Needs must, my boy, needs must. &d I cannot find a place for you heere.

  Yet that night my lord the Judge visited me againe, &d this time creepingly, coming into my roome when I slept &d waking me with kisses &d afterward Clasp’d me as if he would grapple with me. Then he wept againe, &d begg’d Pardon for my face, &d promis’d he would never let me depart. I am to blame, he said, &d then began railing againest himself, &d beating himself with his fists that I became most alarmed at his violence. After, when he had gone &d I trembled alone.

  The Parson afterwards said to me and discoursed as to my Lord’s changeable moods. Nor can I explaine it, excepting that my lord the Judge has a mutable soule, now cheereful now everything melancholic &d black-bile. Yet have I seen him with boyes who would dance at his behest &d him unmov’d, &d heere is this boye without birth or manner, without even Fair Face since yor fall in the fire, &d most of all, Rare!, who flinches from him who could do you so much good, &d actes coy. This is the one who captures his heart. So, so. But it matters not. My work goes well. I’ll confess to you, my boy, as if ye were a Romish confessitor, that I befeared me you had ruined all by hurling yourselfe into the fire. But mayhap this has fastened you closer in his affections. He’ll pay me a thousand Crownes, if you direct him aright!

  At this I reasoned that this Parson was concerned to extract monies from my lord, &d hoped to use me to that end.

  He went away at this time, &d later returned, telling me that the time was propitious for to meete his masters.

  I was curiously affraighted at this News, for partly I was properly alarmed that this meant coming to a Black Masse or suchlike, abomination that the Lord GOD would strike with thunder &d wrath, a scandalum infiniti – yet was I also intrigued, with the curiouseness of a sapient mind, to discover whom these masters were.

  The Parson did not take me away to these Beings this day, nor yet the next; neither did my lord the Judge visit me againe, save only to stoppe in a door-arch &d gaze at me as I swept a fireplace one morning, &d he sighed &d Rubbed his beard with great force as if caught up in some turmoil of the soule. My Hearte did rattle in my breast like a coach-wheel over cobbles, for I beleaved he would come into the roome &d use me as was his habit, but insteade he turned &d went away, tho slowly.

  That night I lay me down &d slept as ever I had, but the Parson came sleekit into my roome &d woke me with a Hand upon my face. Come now, boy, he said. The Moone is at full, &d this badge pleaseth my masters. By this lamp we shall make our way, &d feare no bandit, for rather they should feare us.

  I pulled my breeches on &d shoes in a fumble, & I did not bethink me to gainsay th
is command, for I was not altogether awake. But stepping down the stairway, &d through the door into the Night woke me somewhat. Though the air was mild, yet the freshness touched my skinne &d I ope’d my eyes. Heere was my lord’s herb garden, all closed about by a wall; &d thro’ the ebon door at the far side heere was my lord’s lawn, on which he would sometimes play at quoyits. The grass beseemed black to my eyes, tho the Moone was sharply bright &d silver, glowing enough to throw long shadows. The Parson, who led my steps, seemed more giddie than ever before I had seen him, &d he fair pranced down the slopeing lawn towards that place wheere the River bounded my lord’s estate.

  What hour is it? he asked me.

  I replyed that I knew not the time.

  But I do, my lad, he said. It is past midnight, when the lampe burns blue &d the sky drapes itself in Royal Purple. Then ’tis the hour that the great Monarch of the upper world enters into his closet. Do ye know his name?

  You are pleased to sporte with me sir, I said.

  I may believe my masters shall be well pleased with me, he said. Well pleased with what I bring them. An August month for an august proceeding. &d heere he tweaked my cheek, as a man chucks a babies face, which I liked not.

  We came betimes to the waters edge, &d heere we rested. The Parson tooke from his cloake a flint, or ovall of ivory, &d peered at it. My boy, he said, you must prepare yourself. You are not to crie out in horror, for that might displease my masters.

  Are the formes of deviltry so terrible? I asked.

  Deviltry? said the Parson. Why Thomas, who said twould be devils that attend our meeting? Sainte Peter himselfe! Saint Peter himselfe.