Voumn I PRICE TEN SHILLINGS & SIXPENCE NUMnnR VII

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OFFICIAL THE EQUINOX /,//

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MARCH
1912 0.5
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ALEISTER
CROWLEY’S
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MORTADELLO
or, The Angel of Venice
A PLAY 1N FIVE ACTS

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THE EQUINOX
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THE EQUINOX
ΗΕ OFFICIAL ORGAN OF THE A.- .A.
THE REVIEW OF SCIENTIFIC ILLUMINISM
EDITED BY MARY D’ESTE STURGES
SUB—EDITOR: VICTOR B. NEUBURG
An VIII VOL. . No. VII Θ in m

MARCH MCMXII
ο. s.

“THE METHOD OF SCIENCE—THE AIM OF RELIGION"

WIELAND E? CO.
3 GREAT JAMES STREET, GRAY’S INN
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mimm Frau, Landon

 CO NT Ε ΝΤ5
nm:
EDITORIAL
LIBER I
LIBER XI u
LIBER LXIV ::
LIBER LXVI 29
LIBER CLXXV 37
LIBER CCVI 59
LIBER CCXXXI 69
LIBER CD 75
LIBER CDLXXIV 77
LIBER DLV
LIBER DCCCXXXI 93
LIBER DCCCLXVIII 101
LIBER CMXIII 105
ADONIS. By ALEIsTER CROWLEY 117
THE GHOULS, BY ALmsTER CROWLEY l59
THE FOUR WINDSI BY ALEISTER CROWLEY l79
INDEPENDENCE. BY ALEISTER CROWLEY 181
SNOWSTORMI By ALEISTER CROWLEY I85
A BRIEF ABSTRACT OF THE SYMBOLIC REPRESENTATION OF
THE UNIVERSE DERIVED BY DOCTOR JOHN DEE
THROUGH THE SKRYING OF SIR EDWARD KELLYI
BY ALEISTER CROWLEY 229
APOLLO BESTOWS THE VIOLIN. By ALEISTER CROWLEY 244
DIANA OF THE INLET. BY KATHARINE SUSANNAH PRICHARD 249
SILENCE. By ETHEL ARCHER 290
MEMORY OF LOVE. BY MEREDITH STARR 291
ACROSS THE GULF, BY ALEISTER CROWLEY 293
THE TEMPLE OF SOLOMON THE KING (Caminued) 355
MY CRAPULOUS CONTEMPORARIES. No. ν., ΤΗΕ BISMARCK
OF BATTERSEA. By A. QUILLER, JUN. (ALEISTER CROWLEY)
ARTHUR IN THE AREA AGAIN. By ALEISTER CROWLEY
...
407
THE BIG STICKY REVIEWS 3‘! ALEISTER CROWLEY AND JOHN ‫?ץמאמ‬ ...
A BIRTHDAY. BY ALEISTER CROWLEY 419

νπ Α
 LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS
LIBER E (Two Plates) [Ming ;₪”!/‫?שמש‬
ALEISTER CROWLEYI BY AUGUSTUS JOHN ₪;/‫?!”"ןמ‬
PRANAYAMA PROPERLY PERFORMED “ἕξ
THE SIGILS OF THE XXII 70
LIBER TAV 76

THE HOLY TABLE 230

SIGILLVM DEI AEMETH :32
THE FOUR GREAT WATCH-TOWERS WITHIN GENERAL VIEW
THE GREAT WATCH-TOWER OF THE EAST
,, ,, ,, WEST

,, ,, ,, NORTH ᾽“
,, ,, ,, SOUTH
THE BLACK CROSS, OR TABLE OF UNION
THE ENOCHIAN ALPHABET 238
THE SIGILS OF AIRES
ψ
THE STELE OF REVEALING (OBVERSE) 368

,, ,, (REVERSE) 369

LIBER LEGIS 386

LIBER Ε. SUPPLEMENTARY INSTRUCTION IN ASANA

. The Dying Buddha These [hice recumbent positionis me

J
:, The Hanged Man. more ‫ ?;ש מ‬rm repose after mcdi-
3. π.:
Corpse. ‫[ !ןמ ? ת מ‬or mediu-non mn.
4. The Auowhead.
These posilions with bowed head (ne suilnble
for Asum and or medi uion, but not for
he hy,
J Pmmyama.
7. ‫ ?'חש‬Pmanelugmm.
[Tim-e page: are reser ed for Official Pronoumemmls by th: Chime/[01’
ift/te A.'. A.'.

Persons wishing for information, assistance, further inter-

pretation, etc., are re uested to communicate with
THE CHANCELLOR OF THE A.'. A.'.
c/o THE EQUINOX,
3 Great James Street,
W.C.
Telephone : CITY 8987,

or to call at that address by appointment. A representati e

will be there to meet them.

Probationers are reminded that the ob ect of Probations

and Ordeals is one: namely, to select Adepts. But the
method appears twofold: (i) to fortify the t; (ii) to eliminate
the un tr
The Chancellor of the A.'. A.'. iews without satisfaction
the practice of Probationers wor ing together. A Probationer
should wor with his Neophyte, or alone. Breach of this rule
may pro e a bar to ad ancement.

Some of the wea er brethren ha ing found the postures

in Liber Ε too dif cult, the pitiful heart of the Praemonstrator
of A.'.A.'. has been mo ed to authorise the publication of
additional postures, which will be found facing this page.
An elderly, corpulent gentleman of sedentary habit has been
good enough to pose, so that none need feel debarred from
de oting himself to the Great Wor on the ground of physical
in rmity.
 Owing to the unnecessary strain thrown upon Neophytes
by unprepared persons totally ignorant of the groundwor
ta ing the Oath of a Probationer, the Imperator of A.". A .,
under the seal and by the authority of V.V.V.V.V., ordains
that e ery person wishing to become a Probationer of A. : Α.".
must rst pass three months as a Student of the Mysteries.
He must possess the following boo s :—
1, The EgUINo , from No. to the current number.
1

2. " Ra a Yoga,” by Swami Vi e ananda.

3. “The Shi a Sanhita,” or ”The Hathayoga
Pradipi a."
4. " οπ Om Pa ."
5. "The Spiritual Guide,” by Miguel de Molinos.
6- “ 777-"
7. “ Rituel et Dogme de la haute Magie," par Eliphaz
Le i, or its translation, by A. Ε. Waite.
“
8. The Goetia of the Lemegeton of Solomon the
King,"
9. “Tannhauser,” by A. Crowley.
IO. " The Sword of Song,” by A. Crowley.
11. “Time,” by Α. Crowley.
12. “ Eleusis,” by A. Crowley.
[These four last items are to be found in his
Collected Wor s
13. “The Boo of the Sacred Magic of Abra-melin
the Mage."
An e amination in these boo s will be made. The Student
is e pected to show a thorough ac uaintance with them, but
not necessarily to understand them in any deeper sense. On
passing the e amination he may be admitted to the grade of
Probationer.
 EDITORIAL
IT is with no light heart that I ta e the reins of the go ern-
ment of this magazine from the hand of our belo ed Editor,
Aleister Crowley, a reproduction of whose portrait by
Augustus John faces this page.
For this Se enth Number of the EgUINo is the most
important that has hitherto appeared. It contains the
Account of the Re elation made in Egypt to Frater ... at
The E uino of the Gods, with facsimiles of Liber Legis
and of the Stele of Re ealing, the base of all our Wor .
Yet it beho es our Editor, our Brother, our Friend, and
our Father, to enter upon that Magical Retirement which
has been so wonderfully ushered in by our Se en Times
Blessed Soror VIRAKAM.
And so let us lea e Him, seated upon the Immortal Lily,
his body ed as the Earth, his Spirit freer and as boundless
as the Air, his Soul a piercing Flame of Fire; what new
wonder, what further Un eiling he may bring, let us not
as ; let us await with that eager Scepticism which is his own
unsullied sword.
”( ” ?

Coincident with the retirement of Aleister Crowley, who

always pays for e erything, comes a rise in the price of this
Magazine, to meet the great e pense of the coloured plates
and other illustrations, and the Great Hebrew Dictionary in
No. VIII.
3
 THE EQUINOX

The American mar et ha ing absorbed nearly all unsold

copies of bac numbers, the price of all copies of Nos. I.
and II. is ad anced to one guinea, that of Nos. III.-VI. to
half-a-guinea. There are still a few sets of the Edition de
Lu e at ten guineas; single numbers, two guineas each. We
shall be glad to buy saleably undamaged copies at a small
discount on these prices.
(11 ?

FRATER PERDVRABO has now written a complete Illustrated

Treatise on Mysticism and Magic at the re uest, and by the
hand, of SOROR VIRAKAM. It is written to suit those who
as yet now nothing of the sub ect. It will be published
shortly at a popular price, under the title of BOOK FOUR.
MARY D'ESTE.
LIBER B

Αξι
SVB FIGVRA
1
 A.'.A. . ?

Publication in Class .
Imprimatur:
N,FraAn.A.m
 LIBER B
VEL MAGI

SVB FIGVRA 1

00. One is the Magus: twain His forces: four His

weapons. These are the Se en Spirits of Unrighteousness;
se en ultures of e il. Thus is the art and craft of the
Magus but glamour. How shall He destroy Himself ?
o. Yet the Magus hath power upon the Mother both
directly and through Lo e. And the Magus is Lo e, and
bindeth together That and This in His Con uration.
I. In the beginning doth the Magus spea Truth, and
send forth Illusion and Falsehood to ensla e the soul. Yet
therein is the Mystery of Redemption.
2. By His Wisdom made He the Worlds; the Word that
is God is none other than He.
3. How then shall He end His speech with Silence? For
He is Speech.
4. He is the First and the Last. How shall He cease to
number Himself?
5. By a Magus is this writing made nown through the
mind of a Magister. The one uttereth clearly, and the other
understandeth; yet the Word is falsehood, and the Under-
standing dar ness. And this saying is Of All Truth.
7
 THE EQUINOX
6. Ne ertheless it is written; for there be times of
dar ness, and this as a lamp therein.
7. With the Wand createth He.
8. With the Cup preser eth He.
9. With the Dagger destroyeth He.
10. With the Coin redeemeth He.
I 1. His weapons ful l the wheel; and on What A le that
turneth is not nown unto Him.
12. From all these actions must He cease before the curse
of His Grade is uplifted from Him. Before He attain to That
which e isteth without Form.
13. And if at this time He be manifested upon earth as a
Man, and therefore is this present writing, let this be His
method, that the curse of His grade, and the burden of His
attainment, be uplifted from Him.
14. Let Him beware of abstinence from action. For the
curse of His grade is that He must spea Truth, that the
Falsehood thereof may ensla e the souls of men. Let Him
then utter that without Fear, that the Law may be ful lled.
And according to His Original Nature will that law be
shapen, so that one may declare gentleness and uietness,
being an Hindu; and another erceness and ser ility, being a
Jew; and yet another ardour and manliness, being an Arab.
Yet this matter toucheth the mystery of Incarnation, and is
not here to be declared.
15. Now the grade of a Magister teacheth the Mystery of
Sorrow, and the grade of a Magus the Mystery of Change,
and the grade of Ipsissimus the Mystery of Sel essness,
which is called also the Mystery of Pan.
16. Let the Magus then contemplate each in turn, raising
8
 LIBER B
it to the ultimate power of In nity. Wherein Sorrow is Joy,
and Change is Stability, and Sel essness is Self. For the
interplay of the parts hath no action upon the whole. And
this contemplation shall be performed not by simple medita—
tion—how much less then by reason? but by the method
which shall ha e been gi en unto Him in His initiation to the
Grade.
I7. Following which method, it shall be easy for Him to
combine that trinity from its elements, and further to combine
Sat-Chit—Ananda, and Light, Lo e, Life, three by three into
nine that are one, in which meditation success shall be That
which was rst adumbrated to Him in the grade of Practicus
(which re ecteth Mercury into the lowest world) in Liber
XXVII., " Here is Nothing under its three Forms.“
18. And this is the Opening of the Grade of Ipsissimus,
and by the Buddhists it is called the trance Nerodha—
Samapatti.
19. And woe, woe, woe, yea woe, and again woe, woe,
woe unto se en times be His that preacheth not His law to
men!
20. And woe also be unto Him that refuseth the curse of
the grade of a Magus, and the burden of the Attainment
thereof.
2:. And in the word CHAOS let the Boo be sealed;
yea, let the Boo be sealed
LI BER NV
SVB FIGVRA
XI
 A.'.A, . ‫?י‬

Publication in Class D
(for Winners of the Ordeal X.).
Imprimatur:
999
ν.ν.ν.ν.ν.
- -

. .

N. Fra A A . ' .

Ο . 7a 4.
 LIBER NV
SVB FIGVRA XI

οοο. This is the Boo of the Cult of the In nite Without.

oo. The Aspirant is Hadit. Nuit is the in nite e pansion
of the Rose; Hadit the in nite concentration of the Rood.
(Instruction of VVVVV.)
0. First let the Aspirant learn in his heart the
First Chapter of the Boo of the Law. (Insfrnction of
V. V. V. V. V.)
1. Worship, i.e. identify thyself with, the Khabs, the secret
Light within the Heart. Within this, again, une tended, is
Hadit.
This i: ine rst þmcli of Meditation (cum. . 6 and 21).
2. Adore and understand the Rim of the St l of
Re ealing.
“ Abo e, the gemrned azure is
The na ed splendour of Nuit;
She bends in ecstasy to iss
The secret ardours of Hadit.”
This is the/675! þmcli of Intelligence ( . 1-. 4).
3.A oid any act of choice or discrimination.
leis is thefirst þractice of EMics ( . [. 22).
3
 THE EQUINOX
4. Consider of si and fty that 5o 6:o.12.
ο the circumference, Nuit.
the centre, Hadit.
.

1 the unity proceeding, Ra-Hoor-Khuit.

2 the world of illusion.

Nuit thus comprehends All in None.
Also 50 6 56 5 6 II, the ey of all Rituals.
And 50 6:300, the Spirit of the Child within.
(Note NFL9272, the Shemhamphorash and the Quinaries
of the odiac, etc.)
This is second þmctice of lhfelh'gehee ( . 1.
24, 25).
the Consciousness of the
5. The Result of this Practice is
Continuity of E istence, the Omnipresence of the Body of
Nuit.
In other words, the Aspirant is conscious only of the
In nite Uni erse as a single Being. (Note for this the
importance of Paragraph 3. ED.)
This is rs! Indication of Nature of the Rem/f
( . [. 26).
6. Meditate upon Nuit as the Continuous One resol ed
into None and Two as the phases of her being.
[For the Uni erse being self—contained must be cap-
able of e pression by the formula (h—h) o. For if
not, let it be e pressed by the formula h—m p. That
is, the In nite mo es otherwise than within itself, which is
absurd. BD.
This is seeohdpmelz‘ee of Meditation ( . 1. 27).
7. Meditate upon the facts of Samadhi on all planes, the
liberation of heat in chemistry, oy in natural history, Ananda
14
 LIBER NV
in religion, when two things oin to lose themsel es in a
third.
This is the third practice of Meditation (cc . [. 28,
29, 30).
8. Let the Aspirant pay utmost re erence to the Authority
of the A A and follow Its instructions, and let him swear
a great Oath of De otion unto Nuit.
This is the seeohdþmetiee of Ethics ( . 1. 32).
9. Let the Aspirant beware of the slightest e ercise of his
will against another being. Thus, lying is a better posture
than sitting or standing, as it Opposes less resistance to gra i-
tation. Yet his rst duty is to the force nearest and most
potent e.g. he may rise to greet a friend.
;

This is the 70161566?!/‫ ?!שח‬ofEthics (cc . 1. 41).

10. Let the Aspirant e ercise his will without the least
consideration for any other being. This direction cannot be
understood, much less accomplished, until the pre ious
practice has been perfected.
This is the fourth 122/‫ ??שש‬uthies (ec . 1. 42, 43, 44).
11. Let the Aspirant comprehend that these two practices
are identical.
Thi5 is the ”₪611?/‫ ?!שש‬f Intelligence ( . 1. 45).
12. Let the Aspirant li e the Life Beautiful and Pleasant.
For this freedom hath he won. But let each act, especially of
lo e, be de oted wholly to his true mistress, Nuit.
This is the fth ππ of Ethics ( . 1. 51, 52, 61, 63).
13. Let the Aspirant yearn toward Nuit under the stars of
Night, with a lo e directed by his Magical Will, not merely
proceeding from the heart.
This is thefies! practice anagic/ Art ( . 1. 57).
5
 THE EQUINOX
14.The Result of this Practice in the subse uent life of
the Aspirant is to ll him with unimaginable oys: to gi e
him certainty concerning the nature of the phenomenon called
death ; to gi e him peace unalterable, rest, and ecstasy.
This is seeum! mlimlion of Nature of Rem/l
( . 1. 58).
15.Let the Aspirant prepare a perfume of resinous woods
and gums, according to his inspiration.
This is πιἰ ππ of Magieh A 71 ( . 1. 59).
16. Let the Aspirant prepare a Pantacle, as follows.
Inscribe a circle within a Pentagram, upon a ground
s uare or of such other con enient shape as he may choose.
Let the circle be scarlet, the Pentagram blac , the ground
royal blue studded with golden stars.
Within the circle, at its centre, shall be painted a sigil
that shall be re ealed to the Aspirant by Nuit Herself.
And this Pentacle shall ser e for a Telismatic Image, or
as an Eidolon, or as a Focus for the mind.
This is 1157461129!/ ‫ (! ?!ש‬./11048106 Art (ιl. . 60).
17. Let the Aspirant nd a lonely place, if possible a place
in the Desert of Sand, or if not, a place unfre uented, and
without ob ects to disturb the View. Such are moorlands,
iens, the open sea, broad ri ers, and open elds. Also, and
especially, the summits of mountains.
There let him in o e the Goddess as he hath Wisdom and
Understanding so to do. But let this In ocation be that of
a pure heart, i.e. a heart wholly de oted to Her, and let him
remember that it is Hadit Himself in the most secret place
thereof that in o eth. Then let this serpent Hadit burst
into ame.
16
 LIBER NV
This is thefourth practice of Magit/ Art (ct- . 61.
.
18. Then shall the Aspirant come a little to lie in Her
bosom.
This is the third Indication of the Nature of the Result
(te . I. 61).
19. Let the Aspirant stand upon the edge of a precipice in
act or in imagination. And let him imagine and suffer the fear
of falling.
Ne t let him imagine with this aid that the Earth is
falling, and he with it, or he from it; and considering the
in nity of space, let him e cite the fear within him to the
point of ecstasy, so that the most dreadful dream of falling
that he hath e er suffered be as nothing in comparison.
This is the fourth practice of Mea’itatiou. (Instruction of
7.7.7.7.7.(
20. Thus ha ing understood the nature of this Third
Indication, let him in his Magic Rite fall from himself into
Nuit, or e pand into Her, as his imagination may compel
him.
And at that moment, desiring earnestly the Kiss of Nuit,
let him gi e one particle of dust, i.e. let Hadit gi e himself up
utterly to Her.
This is the fth pmrtice ofMagith Art ( . [. 61).
21. Then shall he lose all in that hour.
This is the fourth Indication of the Nature of the Result
( . [. 61).
22. Let the Aspirant prepare a lo esong of rapture unto
the Goddess, or let him be inspired by Her unto this.
This is the si th mttiee Magz'th Art ( . 63).
23. Let the Aspirant be clad in a single robe. An
11 B 17
 THE EQUINOX
“abbai " of scarlet wrought with gold is most suitable. (The
abbai is not unli e the apanese imono. It must fold simply
o er the breast without belt or other fastening. ED.)
This is the se enth practice of Magich Art (cc l
. 61).
24. Let the
Aspirant wear a rich head-dress. A crown of
gold adorned with sapphires or diamonds with a royal blue
cap of maintenance, or nemmes, is most suitable.
This is the eighth practice of Magic Art ( .
[. 61).
25. Let the Aspirant wear many ewels such as he may
possess.
This is the ninth practice ofMagich Art ( . I. 63).
26. Let the Aspirant prepare an Eli ir or libation as he
may ha e wit to do.
This is the tenth practice uagich Art ( . I. 63).
27. Let the Aspirant in o e, lying supine, his robe spread
out as it were a carpet.
This is the ele enth practice of Magic Art. (Instruction
of V. V. V. V. V.)
28. Summary. Preliminaries.
These are the necessary possessions.
I. The Crown or head-dress.
The Jewels
. The Pantacle.
oar-em. ?
The Robe.
The Song or Incantation.
. The Place of In ocation.
‫ אי‬.
The Perfume.
The Eli ir.
18
 LIBER NV
29, Summary continued. Preliminaries
These are the necessary comprehensions.
!, The Natures of Nuit and Hadit, and their
relation.
2. The Mystery of the Indi idual Will.
30. Summary continued. Preliminaries.
Theseare the meditations necessaryto be accomplished.
. The disco ery of Hadit in the Aspirant, and
indenti cation with Him.
2. The Continuous One.
3. The alue of the E uation ” (—n).
4. Cremnophobia.
31. Summary continued. Preliminaries.
These are the Ethical Practices to be accomplished.
I . Assertion of Kether—point—of— iew.
2. Re erence to the Order.
3. Abolition of human will.
4. E ercise of true will.
5 De otion to Nuit throughout a beautified life.
32 Summary continued. The Actual Rite.
.Retire to desert with crown and other insignia
and implements.
Burn perfume.
Chant incantation.
Drin unto Nuit of the Eli ir.
(!'-PQ."

Lying supine, with eyes ed on the stars,

practice the sensation of falling into
nothingness.
Being actually within the bosom of Nuit, let
Hadit surrender Himself.
I9
 THE EQUINOX
33, Summary concluded The Results,
1. E pansion of consciousness to that of the
In nite.
z. “ Loss ofall” the highest mystical attainment.
3. True Wisdom and Perfect Happiness.

20
LIBER ISRAFEL
SVB FIGVRA
LXIV

2I
 A. ,A,'.
Publication in Class B.
Imprimatur:
N,FraA.'.A.'.
 LIBER ISRAFEL
SVB FIGVRA LXIV

[This boo was formerly called " Anubis,” and is referred to the 20th ey,
“ The Angel.”

ο. The Temple being in dar ness, and the Spea er

ascended into his place, let him begin by a ritual of the
Enterer, as followeth.
I. \ Procul, 0 procul este profani.
2. Bahlasti! Ompehda!
3. In the name of the Mighty and Terrible One, I proclaim
that I ha e banished the Shells unto their habitations.
4. I in o e Tahuti, the Lord of Wisdom and of Utterance,
the God that cometh forth from the Veil.
5. Ο Thou Ma esty of Godhead! Wisdom—crowned
!

Tahutil Lord of the Gates of the Uni ersa! Thee, Thee, I

in o e.
Ο Thou of the Ibis Head! Thee, Thee I in o e.
Thou who wieldest the Wand of Double Power Thee,
Thee I in o el
Thou who bearest in Thy left hand the Rose and Cross
of Light and Life: Thee, Thee, I in o e.
Thou, whose head is as an emerald, and Thy nemmes
as the night-s y blue! Thee, Thee I in o e.
23
 THE EQUINOX
Thou, whose s in is of aming orange as though it
burned in a furnace! Thee, Thee I in o e
6. Behold I am Yesterday, To-Day, and the Brother of
!

To—Morrow!
I am born again and again
Mine is the Unseen Force, whereof the Gods are
sprung! Which is as Life unto the Dwellers in the Watch-
Towers of the Uni erse.
I am the Charioteer of the East, Lord of the Past and of
the Future.
I see by mine own inward light: Lord of Resurrection;
Who cometh forth from the Dus , and my birth is from the
House of Death.
7. Ο ye two Di ine Haw s upon your Pinnacles!
Who eep watch o er the Uni erse!
Ye who company the Bier to the House of Rest!
Who pilot the Ship of Ra ad ancing onwards to the
heights of hea en I
Lord of the Shrine which standeth in the Centre of the
Earth !

8. Behold,He is in me, and I in Him!

Mine is the Radiance, wherein Ptah oateth o er the
rmament!
I tra el upon high!
I tread upon the rmament of Nu!
I raise a ashing ame, with the lightning of Mine Eye!
E er rushing on, in the splendour of the daily glori ed
Ra: gi ing my life to the Dwellers of Earth‘
9. HI say " Come up upon the mountains
" the Celestial
1

Waters shall ow at my Word

24
 LIBER ISRAFEL
For I am Ra incarnate!
Khephra created in the Flesh!
I am the Eidolon of my father Tmu, Lord of the City
of the Sun!

10. The God who commands is in my mouth!

The God of Wisdom is in my Heart!
My tongue is the Sanctuary of Truth!
And a God sitteth upon my lips.
11. My Word is accomplished e ery day!
And the desire of my heart realises itself, as that of
Ptah when He createth!
I am Eternal; therefore all things are as my designs;
therefore do all things obey my Word
12. Therefore do Thou come forth unto me from Thine
abode in the Silence: Unutterable Wisdom! All-Light!
All-Power!
Thoth! Hermes! Mercury! Odin!
By whate er name I call Thee, Thou art still nameless
to Eternity: Come Thou forth, I say, and aid and guard me
in this wor 01 Art.
134 Thou, Star 01 the East, that didst conduct the
Magi!
Thou art The Same all-present in Hea en and in
Hell!
Thou that ibratest between the Light and the Dar -
ness!
Rising, descending! Changing e er, yet e er The
Same!
The Sun is Thy Father!
Thy Mother the Moon !

25
 THE EQUINOX
The Wind hath borne Thee in its bosom; and Earth hath
e er nourished the changeless Godhead of Thy Youth !

14. Come Thou forth, I say, come Thou forth!

And ma e all Spirits sub ect unto Me:

So that e ery Spirit 01 the Firmament

And of the Ether,
And of the Earth,
And under the Earth.
On dry land
And in the Water,
Of whirling Air
And of rushing Fire,
And e ery Spell and Scourge 01 God the Vast One, may
be obedient unto Mel
15. I in o e the Priestess of the Sil er Star, Asi the
Cur ed One, by the ritual 01 Silence.
16. I ma e open the gate 01 Bliss; I descend from the
Palace 01 the Stars ; I greet you, I embrace you, 0 children
01 earth, that are gathered together in the Hall of Dar ness
17. (A pause.)
18. The Speech in the Silence.
The Words against the Son 01 Night.
The Voice of Tahuti in the Uni erse in the Presence 01
the Eternal.
The Formulas 01 Knowledge.
The Wisdom 01 Breath.
The Root 01 Vibration.
The Sha ing 01 the In isible.
The Rolling Asunder 01 the Dar ness.
The Becoming Visible 01 Matter.
26
 LIBER ISRAFEL
The Piercing of the Scales of the Crocodile
The Brea ing Forth of the Light!
19. (Follows the Lection.)
20. There is an end of the speech; let the Silence of dar —
ness be bro en ; let it return into the silence of light.
21. The spea er silently departs; the listeners disperse
unto their homes; yea, they disperse unto their homes.

27
 LIBER STELL E RUBE/E
A secret ritual oprep, the Heart of IAO-OAI, deli ered unto V.V.V.V.V,
for his use in a certain matter of Liber Legis, and written down under the
gure
LXVI

29
 A .
‫?י‬
. A .
‫?י‬

Publication in Class A.
Imprimatur:
N.FraA.‘.A.‘.
 LI BER ST ELLA? RU BE/E
I. Apep dei eth Asar.
2. Let e cellent irgins e o e re oicing, son of Night!

3. This is the boo of the most secret cult of the Ruby

Star. It shall be gi en to none, sa e to the shameless in
deed as in word.
4. No man shall understand this writing—it is too subtle
or the sons of men.
5. If the Ruby Star ha e shed its blood upon thee;
if in the season of the moon thou hast in o ed by the
Iod and the Pe, then mayst thou parta e of this most
secret sacrament.
6. One shall instruct another, with no care for the matters
of men’s thought.
7. There shall be a fair altar in the midst, e tended upon
a blac stone.
8. At the head of the altar gold, and twin images in green
of the Master.
9. In the midst a cup of green wine.
o. At the foot the Star of Ruby.
11. The altar shall be entirely bare.
12. First, the ritual of the Flaming Star.
13. Ne t, the ritual of the Seal.
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 THE EQUINOX
I4. Ne t, the infernal adorations of OAI.
Mu pa telai,
Tu wa melai
a, , .
Tu fu tulu !

Tu fu tulu
Pa, Sa, Ga.
Qwi Mu telai
Ya Pu melai;
, , .
'Se gu malai;
Pe fu telai,
Fu tu lu.
O chi balae
Wa pa malae :—
Ut! π! Ut!
Ge; fu latrai,
Le 11 malai
K tl H t !
N t!
Al Om
Rel meai
Ti—Ti—Til
Wa la pelai
Tu fu latai
Wi, Ni, Bi.
15. Also thou shalt e cite the wheels with the e wounds
and the e wounds.
16. Then thou shalt e cite the wheels with the two and
32
 LIBER STELL/E RUBE/E
the third in the midst; e en h and u, Θ and , 6 and ?,
and .
17. Then the e—and the si th.
18. Also the altar shall fume before the master with
incense that hath no smo e.
19, That which is to be denied shall be denied ; that
which is to be trampled shall be trampled; that which is to
be spat upon shall be spat upon.
20. These things shall be burnt in the outer re.
2L Then again the master shall spea as he will soft
words, and with music and what else he will bring forward
the Victim.
22. Also he shall slay ayoung child upon the altar, and
the blood shall co er the altar with perfume as of roses
23. Then shall the master appear as He should appear-—
in His glory.
241 He shall stretch himself upon the altar, and awa e it
into life, and into death.
25. (For so we conceal that life which is beyond.)
26. The temple shall be dar ened, sa e for the re and the
lamp of the altar.
27. There shall he indle a great re and a de ouring.
28. Also he shall smite the altar with his scourge, and
blood shall ow therefrom.
29. Also he shall ha e made roses bloom thereon.
30. In the end he shall offer up the Vast Sacri ce, at the
moment when the God lic s up the ame upon the altar.
3i. All these things shalt thou perform strictly, obser ing
the time.
32. And the Belo ed shall abide with Thee.
n c 33
 THE EQUINOX
Thou shalt not disclose the interior world of this rite
33.
unto any one: therefore ha e I written it in symbols that
cannot be understood
34. I who re eal the ritual am 1A0 and 0A1; the Right
and the A erse.
35. These are ali e unto me.
36. Now the Veil of this operation is called Shame, and
the Glory abideth within.
37. Thou shalt comfort the heart of the secret stone with
the warm blood. Thou shalt ma e a subtle decoction of
delight, and the Watchers shall drin thereof.
38. I, Apep the Serpent, am the heart of IAO. Isis shall
await Asar, and I in the midst.
39. Also the Priestess shall see another altar, and perform
my ceremonies thereon.
40. There shall be no hymn nor dithyramb in my praise
and the praise of the rite, seeing that it is utterly beyond.
4 . Thou shalt assure thyself of the stability of the altar.
42. In this rite thou shalt be alone.
43. I will gi e thee another ceremony whereby many shall
re oice.
44. Before all let the Oath be ta en rmly as thou raisest
up the altar from the blac earth.
45. In the words that Thou nowest.
46. For I also swear unto thee by my body and soul that
shall ne er be parted in sunder that I dwell within thee coiled
and ready to spring.
47. I will gi e thee the ingdoms of the earth, Ο thou
Who hast mastered the ingdoms of the East and of the
West.
34
 LIBER STELL/E RUBE/E
48. I am Apep, 0 thou slain One. Thou shalt slay thyself
upon mine altar: I will ha e thy blood to drin .
49. For I am a mighty ampire, and my children shall
suc up the wine of the earth which is blood.
50. Thou shalt replenish thy eins from the chalice of
hea en.
51. Thou shalt be secret, a fear to the world.
52. Thou shalt be e alted, and none shall see thee; e alted,
and none shall suspect thee.
53. For there are two glories di erse, and thou who hast
won the rst shalt en oy the second.
54. I leap with oy within thee; my head is arisen to stri e.
55. O the lust, the sheer rapture, of the life of the sna e in
the spine!
56. Mightier than God or man, I am in them, and per ade
them.
57. Follow out these my words.
58. Fear nothing.
Fear nothing.
Fear nothing.
59. For I am nothing, and me thou shalt fear, Ο my irgin,
my prophet within whose bowels I re oice.
60. Thou shalt ear with the fear of lo e: I will o ercome
thee.
61. Thou shalt be ery nigh to death.
62. But I will o ercome thee; the New Life shall illumine
thee with the Light that is beyond the Stars.
63. Thin est thou? I, the force that ha e created all, am
not to be despised.
64. And I will slay thee in my lust.
35
 THE EQUINOX
65. Thou shalt scream with the oy and the pain and the
fear and the lo e—so that the Ο Ο of a new God leaps out
among the Stars.
66. There shall be no sound heard but this thy lion-roar
of rapture; yea, this thy lion-roar of rapture.

36
ASTART Ε
VEL

LIBER BERYLLI
SVB FIGVRA
CLXXV

37
 A.' A. .
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‫?י‬

Publication in Class .
Imprimatur:
N.FraA.'.An
 LIBER ASTARTE
VEL BERYLLI
SVB FIGVRA CLXXV

o. This is the boo of Uniting Himself to a particular

Deity by de otion.
1. Consideration: before tne Tnres ola’. First, concerning
the choice of a particular Deity. This matter is of no import,
sobeit that thou choose one suited to thine own highest nature.
Howsoe er, this method is not so suitable for gods austere as
Saturn, or intellectual as Thoth. But for such deities as in
themsel es parta e in anywise of lo e it isa perfect mode.
2. Concerning prime met/md of this Magz'e Art.
Let the de otee consider well that although Christ and Osiris
be one, yet the former is to be worshipped with Christian,
and the latter with Egyptian rites. And this although the
rites themsel es are ceremonially e ui alent. There should,
howe er, be one symbol declaring the transcending of such
limitations; and with regard to the Deity also, there should
be some one af rmation of his identity both with all other
similar gods of other nations, and with the Supreme of whom
all are but partial re ections.
3. Concerning chz'efþ/ace of de e/teni This is the
Heart of the de otee, and should be symbolically represented
39
 THE EQUINOX
by that room or spot which he lo es best. And the dearest
spot therein shall be the shrine 01 his temple. It is most
con enient if this shrine and altar should be se uestered
in woods, or in a pri ate gro e, or garden But let it be
protected from the profane
4. Concerning the [mage of [he Deity, Let there be an
image of the Deity; rst, because in meditation there is
mindfulness induced thereby; and second, because a certain
power enters and inhabits it by irtue of the ceremonies; or
so it is said, and We deny it not. Let this image be the most
beautiful and perfect which the de otee is able to procure; or
if he be able to paint or to car e the same, it is all the better.
As for Deities with whose nature no Image is compatible, let
them be worshipped in an empty shrine. Such are Brahma
and Allah. Also some post-capti ity conceptions of Jeho ah.
5. Further concerning the shrine. Let this shrine be
furnished appropriately as to its ornaments, according to the
boo 777. With i y and pine-cones, that is to say, for
Bacchus, and let lay before him both grapes and wine. So
also for Ceres let there be com, and ca es; or for Diana
moon-wort and pale herbs, and pure water. Further, it is
well to support the shrine with talismans 01 the planets, signs
and elements appropriate. But these should be made accord-
ing to the right Ingenium of the Philosophus by the light of
the Boo 777 during the course of his De otion. It is also
well, ne ertheless, if a magic circle with the right signs and
names be made beforehand.
6. Concerning/lae ceremonies. Let the Philosophus prepare
a powerful In ocation of the particular Deity, according to his
Ingenium. But let it consist 01 these se eral parts:
40
 LIBER ASTARTE
First, an Imprecation, as of a sla e unto his Lord.
Second, an Oath, as of a assal to his Liege.
Third, a Memorial, as of a child to his Parent.
Fourth, an Orison, as of a Priest unto his God.
Fifth, a Collo uy, as of a Brother with his Brother.
Si th, a Con uration, as of a Friend with his Friend.
Se enth, a Madrigal, as of a Lo er to his Mistress.
And mar well that the rst should be of awe, the second
of fealty, the third of dependence, the fourth of adoration, the
fth of con dence, the si th of comradeship, the se enth of
passion.
7. Furi/127 121718/ ‫?שמש‬ ceremonies. Let then this In-
ocation be the principal part of an ordered ceremony. And
in this ceremony let the Philosophus in no wise neglect the
ser ice of a menial. Let him sweep and garnish the place,
sprin ling it with water or with wine as is appropriate to the
particular Deity, and consecrating it with oil, and with such
ritual as may seem him best. And let all be done with
intensity and minuteness.
8 Contaming Mopem'oa’ of de otion, and the om/s thereof.
Let a ed period be set for the worship; and it is said that
the least time is nine days by se en, and the greatest se en
years by nine. And concerning the hours, let the Ceremony
be performed e ery day thrice, or at least once, and let the
sleep of the Philosophus be bro en for some purpose of
de otion at least once in e ery night.
Now to some it may seem best to appoint ed hours for
the ceremony, to others it may seem that the ceremony should
be performed as the spirit mo es them so to do : for this there
is no rule.
41
 THE EQUINOX
9. Concerning Robe: and Instrumenis. The Wand
and Cup are to be chosen for this Art; ne er the Sword or
Dagger, ne er the Pantacle, unless that Pantacle chance to be
01 a nature harmonious. But e en so it is best to eep the
Wand and Cup; and if one must choose, the Cup.
For the Robes, that of a Philosophus, or that 01 an Adept
Within is most suitable ; or, the robe best tted 101 the ser ice
of the particular Deity, as a bassara for Bacchus, a white robe
for Vesta. So also, for Vesta, one might use for instrument
the Lamp; or the sic le, or Chronos.
ιο. Concerning the Intense and Lihations. The incense
should follow the nature 01 the particular Deity; as, mastic
for Mercury, dittany for Persephone, Also the libations, as,
a decoction of nightshade for Melancholia, or 01 Indian hemp
for Uranus.
II. Concerning harmony of the tererhonies, Let all
these things be rightly considered, and at length, in language
01 the utmost beauty at the command of the Philosophus,
accompanied, if he ha e s ill, by music, and interwo en, if the
particular Deity be ocund, with dancing. And all being
carefully prepared and rehearsed, let it be practised daily until
it be wholly rhythmical with his aspiration, and as it were, a
part of his being,
12᾽ Coneerning ariety of ceremonies. Now, seeing
that e ery man differeth essentially from e ery other man,
albeit in essence he is identical, let also these ceremonies assert
their identity by their di ersity. For this reason do We lea e
much herein to the right Ingenium of the Philosophus.
I 3. Concerning the life of de otee. First, let his way
of life be such as is pleasing to the particular Deity. Thus to
42
 LIBER ASTARTE
in o e Neptune, let him go a- shing; but if Hades, let him
not approach the water that is hateful to Him.
[4. Further, concerning life af de otee. Let him
cut away from his life any act, word, or thought, that is
hateful to the particular Deity; as, unchastity in the case of
Artemis, e asions in the ease of Ares. Besides this, he should
a oid all harshness or un indness of any ind in thought,
word, or deed, seeing that abo e the particular Deity is One
in whom all is One. Yet also he may deliberately practise
cruclties, where the particular Deity manifests His lo e in
that manner ; as in the case of Kali, and of Pan. And there—
fore, before the beginning of his period of de otion, let him
practise according to the rules of Liber Jugorum.
I 5. Furl/ten concerning life of tne de otae. NOW, as
many are fully occupied with their affairs, let it be nown that
this method is adaptable to the necessities of all.
And We bear witness that this which followeth is the Cru
and Quintessence of the whole Method.
First, if he ha e no Image, let him ta e anything soe er,
and consecrate it as an Image of his God. Li ewise with his
robes and instruments, his suffumigations and libations: for
his Robe hath he not a night-dress; for his instrument a
wal ing—stic ; for his suffumigation a burning match, for his
libation a glass of water?
But let him consecrate each thing that he useth to the
ser ice of that particular Deity, and not profane the same to
any other use,
16. Contz'nnatz'on. Ne t, concerning his time, if it be short.
Let him labour mentally upon his In ocation, concentrating
it, and let him perform this In ocation in his heart whene er
43
 THE EQUINOX
he hath the leisure. And let him seize eagerly upon e ery
opportunity for this.
17. Caulinuatz'an. Third, e en if he ha e leisure and
preparation, let him see e er to bring inward the symbols,
so that e en in his well-ordered shrine the whole ceremony
re ol e inwardly in his heart, that is to say in the temple of
his body, of which the outer temple is but an image.
For in the brain is the shrine, and there is no Image
therein ; and the breath of man is the incense and the libation.
18. Can/inualz'an. Further concerning occupation. Let
the de otee transmute within the alembic of his heart
e ery thought, or word, or act into the spiritual gold of his
de otion.
As thus: eating. Let him say: “I eat this food in
gratitude to my Deity that hath sent it to me, in order to gain
strength for my de otion to Him."
Or: sleeping. Let him say: “I lie down to sleep, gi ing
than s for this blessing from my Deity, in order that I may
be refreshed for new de otion to Him."
Or: reading. Let him say: “I read this boo that I may
study the nature of my Deity, that further nowledge of Him
may inspire me with deeper de otion to Him.”
Or: wor ing. Let him say: ”I dri e my spade into the
earth that fresh owers (fruit, or what not) may spring up
to His glory, and that I, puri ed by toil, may gi e better
de otion to Him.”
Or, whate er it may be that he is doing, let him reason
it out in his own mind, drawing it through circumstance and
circumstance to that one end and conclusion of the matter.
And let him not perform the act until he hath done this.
44
 LIBER ASTARTE
As it is written Liber VII. cap. .—
:

22. " E ery breath, e ery word, e ery thought, is an

act of lo e with thee.
23. " The beat of my heart is the pendulum of lo e,
24. "The songs of me are the soft sighs :
25. "The thoughts of me are ery rapture :

26. ”And my deeds are the myriads of Thy children,

the stars and the atoms.”
And Remember Well, that if thou wert in truth a lo er,
all this wouldst thou do of thine own nature without the
slightest aw or failure in the minutest part thereof.
19. Concerning tne Le z'z'ons. Let the Philosophus read
solely in his copies of the holy boo s of Thelema, during the
whole period 01' his de otion. But if he weary, then let him read
boo s which ha e no part whate er in lo e, as for recreation.
But let him copy out each erse of Thelema which bears
upon this matter, and ponder them, and comment thereupon.
For therein is a wisdom and a magic too deep to utter in any
other wise,
20. Concerning tne Medifalz'ons. Herein is the most potent
method of attaining unto the End, for him who is thoroughly
prepared, being puri ed by the practice of the Transmutation
of deed into de otion, and consecrated by the right performance
of the holy ceremonies. Yet herein is danger, for that the
Mind is uid as uic sil er, and bordereth upon the Abyss,
and is beset by many sirens and de ils that seduce and attac
it to destroy it. Therefore let the de otee beware, and
precise accurately his meditations, e en as a man should
build a canal from sea to seal
21. Continuation. Let then the Philosophus meditate
45
 THE EQUINOX
upon all lo e that hath e er stirred him. There is the lo e
01 Da id and of Jonathan, and the lo e of Abraham and Isaac,
and the lo e of Lear and Cordelia, and the lo e of Damon and
Pythias, and the lo e 01 Sappho and Atthis, and the lo e of
Romeo and Juliet, and the lo e of Dante and Beatrice, and
the lo e 01 Paolo and Francesca, and the lo e 01 Caesar and
Lucrezia Borgia, and the lo e of Aucassin and Nicolette, and
the lo e 01 Daphnis and Chloe, and the lo e 01 Cornelia and
Caius Gracchus, and the lo e 01 Bacchus and Ariadne, and
the lo e 01 Cupid and Psyche, and the lo e of Endymion and
Artemis, and the lo e of Demeter and Persephone, and the
lo e 01 Venus and Adonis, and the lo e of La shmi and
Vishnu, and the lo e 01 Si a and Bha ani, and the lo e 01
Buddha and Ananda, and the lo e of Jesus and John, and
many more.
Also there 15 the lo e of many saints for their particular
deity, as 01 St Francis 01 Assisi for Christ, of Sri Sabhapaty
Swami for Maheswara, of Abdullah Ha i Shirazi 101 Allah, 01
St Ignatius Loyola 101' Mary, and many more.
Now do thou ta e one such story e ery night, and enact
it in thy mind, grasping each identity with in nite care and
zest, and do thou gure thyself as one 01 the lo ers and thy
Deity as the other. Thus do thou pass through all ad entures
01 lo e, not omitting one; and to each do thou conclude:
How pale a re ection is this 01 my lo e for this Deity!
Yet from each shalt thou draw some nowledge 01 lo e,
some intimacy with lo e, that shall aid thee to perfect thy
lo e, Thus learn the humility 01 lo e from one, its obedience
from another, its intensity from a third, its purity from a
fourth, its peace from yet a fth.
46
 LIBER ASTARTE
So then thy lo e being made perfect, it shall be worthy of
that perfect lo e of His.
22. Further concerning inedifation. Moreo er, let the
Philosophus imagine to himself that he hath indeed succeeded
in his de otion, and that his Lord hath appeared to him, and
that they con erse as may be tting.
23. Concerning Mysterium Triangle. Now then as
three cords separately may be bro en by a child, while those
same cords duly twisted may bind a giant, let the Philosophus
learn to entwine these three methods of Magic into a Spell,
To this end let him understand that as they are One,
because the end is one, so are they One because the method
is One, e en the method of turning the mind toward the
particular Deity by lo e in e ery act.
And lest thy twine slip, here is a little cord that wrappeth
tightly round and round all, e en the Mantram or Continuous
Prayer.
24. Concerning Manli/ain or Continuous Prayer. Let
the Philosophus wea e the Name of the Particular Deity into
a sentence short and rhythmical; as, for Artemis: π ον,
π ον, ι ; or, for Shi a: Namo Shi aya namaha Aum;
or, for Mary: A e Maria; or, for Pan, αι ο ον
Haw How; or, for Allah: Hua Allahu alazi lailaha illa Hua.
Let him repeat this day and night without cessation
mechanically in his brain, which is thus made ready for the
Ad ent of that Lord, and armed against all other.
25. Concerning Acti e and Passi e. Let the
Philosophus change from the acti e lo e of his particular
Deity to a state of passi e awaiting, e en almost a repulsion,
the repulsion not of distaste, but of a sublime modesty.
47
 THE EQUINOX
As it is written, Liber LXV. ii. 59. I ha e called unto Thee,
and I ha e ourneyed unto Thee, and it a ailed me not. 60. I
waited patiently, and Thou wast with me from the beginning.
Then let him change bac to the Acti e, until a eritable
rhythm is established between the states, as it were the
swinging ο a Pendulum. But let him re ect that a ast
intelligence is re uired for this; for he must stand as it were
almost without himself to watch those phases of himself.
And to do this is a high Art, and pertaineth not altogether to
the grade of Philosophus. Neither is it of itself helpful, but
rather the re erse, in this especial practice.
26. Concerning Silence. Now there may come a time in
the course of this practice when the outward symbols of
de otion cease, when the soul is as it were dumb in the
presence of its God. Mar that this is not a cessation, but a
transmutation of the barren seed of prayer into the green
shoot of yearning. This yearning is spontaneous, and it shall
be left to grow, whether it be sweet or bitter. For often
times it is as the torment of hell in which the soul burns and
writhes unceasingly. Yet it ends, and at its end continue
openly thy Method.
27. Concerning 11655/ ? Another state wherein at times
the soul may fall is this dar night, And this is indeed
purifying in such depths that the soul cannot fathom it. It is
less li e pain than li e death. But it is the necessary death
that comes before the rising of a body glori ed.
This state must be endured with fortitude; and no means
of alle iating it may be employed. It may be bro en up by
the brea ing up of the whole Method, and a return to the
world without. This cowardice not only destroys the alue
48
 LIBER ASTARTE
of all that has gone before, but destroys the alue of the Oath
of Fealty that thou hast sworn, and ma es thy Will a
moc ery to men and gods.
28. Camel/Ming [he De þlz'ons of the De il. Note well
that in this state of dryness a thousand sedUCtions will lure
thee away; also a thousand means of brea ing thine oath in
spirit without brea ing it in letter. Against this thou mayst
repeat the words of thine oath aloud again and again until
the temptation be o ercome.
Also the de il will represent to thee that it were much
better for this operation that thou do thus and thus, and see
to affright thee by fears for thy health or thy reason,
Or he may send against thee isions worse than madness,
Against all this there is but one remedy, the Discipline
of thine Oath, So then thou shalt 80 through ceremonies
meaningless and hideous to thee, and blaspheme shalt thou
against thy Deity and curse Him. And this mattereth little,
for it is not thou, so be that thou adhere to the Letter of
thine Obligation, For thy Spiritual Sight is closed, and to
trust it is to be led unto the precipice, and hurled therefrom.
29. Furl/1W of Mi: mailer. Now also subtler than all
these terrors are the Illusions of Success. For one instant’s
self-satisfaction or E pansion of thy Spirit, especially in this
state of dryness, and thou art lost For thou mayst attain the
False Union with the Demon himselfi Beware also of e en
the pride which rises from ha ing resisted the temptations.
But so many and so subtle are the wiles of Choronzon
that the whole world could not contain their enumeration.
The answer to one and all is the persistence in the literal
ful lment of the routine. Beware, then, last, of that de il
VII D 49
 THE EQUINOX
who shall whisper in thine ear that the letter illeth, but the
spirit gi eth life, and answer: E cept a corn of wheat fall into
the ground and die, it abideth alone; but if it die, it bringeth
forth much fruit.
Yet shalt thou also beware of disputation with the de il,
and pride in the cle erness of thine answers to him. There—
fore, if thou hast not lost the power of silence, let it be rst and
last employed against him.
3o, Concerning the En imm'ng of Me Hearl. Now learn
that thy methods are dry one and all. Intellectual e ercises,
moral e ercises, they are not Lo e. Yet as a man, rubbing
two dry stic s together for long, suddenly found a spar , so
also from time to time will true lo e leap unas ed into thy
meditation. Yet this shall die and be reborn again and again.
It may be that thou hast no tinder near.
In the end shall come suddenly a great ame and a
de ouring, and burn thee utterly
Now of these spar s, and of these splutterings of ame,
and of these beginnings of the In nite Fire, thou shalt thus
be aware. For the spar s thy heart shall leap up, and thy
ceremony or meditation or toil shall seem of a sudden to go
of its own will; and for the little ames this shall be increased
in olume and intensity; and or the beginnings of the In nite
Fire thy ceremony shall be caught up unto ra ishing song,
and thy meditation shall be ecstasy, and thy toil shall be a
delight e ceeding all pleasure thou hast e er nown
And of the Great Flame that answereth thee it may
not be spo en; for therein is the End of this Magic Art
of De otion.
31. Comz'demtz'om with regard fo the use of &/‫ שש‬.? It
50
 LIBER ASTARTE
is to be noted that persons of powerful imagination, will, and
intelligence ha e no need of these material symbols. There
ha e been certain saints who are capable of lo e for an idea as
such without it being otherwise than degraded by idoliszng
it, to use this word in its true sense. Thus one may be
impassioned of beauty, without e en the need of so small a
concretion of it as “the beauty of Apollo," “the beauty of
roses,” “ the beauty 01 Attis." Such persons are rare; it may
be doubted whether Plato himself attained to any Vision of
absolute beauty without attaching to it material ob ects in the
rst place. A second class is able to contemplate ideals
through this eil a third class need a double eil, and cannot
;

thin 01 the beauty 01 a rose without a rose before them.

For such is this Method of most use; yet let them now
that there is this danger therein, that they may mista e
the gross body of the symbol for the idea made concrete
thereby.
32. Considerations of fin/[her danger to those not purged
of materia! thought. Let it be remembered that in the nature
of the lo e itself is danger. The lust of the satyr for the
nymph is indeed 01 the same nature as the af nity of Quic -
lime for water on the one hand, and of the lo e of Ab for
Ama on the other; so also is the triad Osiris, Isis, Horus
li e that 01 a horse, mare, foal, and of red, blue, purple. And
this is the foundation 01 Correspondences.
But it were false to say “ Horus is a foal " or “ Horus is
purple.” One may say " Horus resembles a foal in this
respect, that he is the offspring 01 two complementary beings.”
33, Further of this ”miter. So also many ha e said truly
that all is one, and falsely that since earth is That One, and
51
 TH Ε EQUINOX
ocean is That One, therefore earth is ocean. Unto Him good
is illusion, and e il is illusion; therefore good is e il, By
this fallacy of logic are many men destroyed.
Moreo er, there are those who ta e the image for the God ;

as who should say, my heart is in Tiphereth, and an Adeptus

is in Tiphereth ; I am therefore an adept.
And in this practice the worst danger is this, that the lo e
which is its weapon should fail in one of two ways.
First, if the lo e lac any uality of lo e, so long is it not
ideal lo e. For it is written of the Perfected One: “ There is
no member of my body which is not the member of some god.”
Therefore let not the Philosophus despise any form of lo e,
but harmonise all. As it is written: Liber LXI, 32. “ So
therefore Perfection abideth not in the Pinnacles or in the
Foundation, but in the harmony of One with all.”
Second, if any part of this lo e e ceed, there is disease
therein. As, in the lo e of Othello for Desdemona, lo e‘s
ealousy o ercame lo e‘s tenderness, so may it be in this lo e
ofa particular Deity. And this is more li ely, since in this
di ine lo e no element may be omitted.
It is by irtue of this completeness that no human lo e may
in any way attain to more than to forthshadow a little part
thereof.
34. Concerning Mani/fauhons. These are not necessary to
this method. On the contrary, they may destroy the con-
centration, as counter—irritants to, and so alle iations of, the
supreme morti cation which is the Absence of the Deity
in o ed.
Yet as in mortal lo e arisesa distaste for food, or a pleasure
in things naturally painful, this per ersion should be endured
52
 LIBER ASTARTE
and allowed to ta e its course. Yet not to the interference
with natural bodily health, whereby the instrument of the soul
might be impaired.
And concerning sacri ces for lo e‘s sa e, they are natural
to this Method, and right.
But concerning oluntary pri ations and tortures, without
use sa e as against the de otee, they are generally not natural
to healthy natures, and wrong. For they are sel sh. To
scourge one’s self ser es not one's master; yet to deny one’s
self bread that one’s child may ha e ca e is the act of a true
mother.
35. Furi/zar concerning illori‘i cntions. If thy body, on
which thou ridest, be so disobedient a beast that by no means
will he tra el in the desired direction, or if thy mind be
baul ish and elo uent as Balaam‘s fabled Ass, then let the
practice be abandoned Let the shrine be co ered in sac cloth,
and do thou put on habits of lamentation, and abide alone.
And do thou return most austerely to the practice of Liber
Jugorum, testing thyself by a standard higher than that
hitherto accomplished, and punishing effractions with a
hea ier goad. Nor do thou return to thy de otion until that
body and mind are tamed and trained to all manner of
peaceable going.
36. Concerning minor meinods all'/a ant in ceremonies.
. Rising on the planes. By this method mayst thou assist
the imagination at the time of concluding thine In ocation.
Act as taught in Liber O, by the light of Liber 777.
37. Concerning minor meinods (m'/"mum! in the ceremonies.
. [1511262711/ ‫ ??ש‬magic. Ha ing made by thine Ingenium
a talisman or pantacle to represent the particular Deity, and
53
 THE EQUINOX
consecrated it with in nite lo e and care, do thou burn it
ceremonially before the shrine, as if thereby gi ing up the
shadow for the substance But it is useless to do this unless
thou do really in thine heart alue the talisman beyond all else
that thou hast.
38. Concerning minor method: zmynwm/ in the ceremonies.
lll. Rehearsal It may assist if the traditional history 01 the
particular Deity be rehearsed before him; perhaps this is best
done in dramatic form. This method is the main one recom—
mended in the “ E ercitios Espirituales " ofSt Ignatius, whose
wor may be ta en as a model. Let the Philosophus wor
out the legend 01 his own particular Deity, and apportioning
days to e ents, li e that life in imagination, e ercising the
e senses in turn, as occasion arises.
39. Concerning minor matters ald/"mum! in the ceremonies.
IV. Dnresse. This method consists in cursing a deity
recalcitrant; as, threatening ceremonially “ to burn the blood
of Osiris, and to grind down his bones to powder.” This
method is altogether contrary to the spirit of lo e, unless the
particular Deity be himself sa age and relentless ; as, Jeho ah
or Kali. In such a case the desire to perform constraint and
cursing may be the sign of the assimilation 01 the spirit 01 the
de otee with that of his God, and so an ad ance to the Union
with Him.
404 Concerning the mine aff/zis 171107712!/‫ ??”ץ”ש‬of Union
or Smnadhi. All Samadhi is de ned as the ecstatic union of
sub ect and ob ect in consciousness, with the result that a
third thing arises which parta es in no way of the nature 01
the two.
It would seem at rst sight that it is 01 no importance
54
 LIBER ASTARTE
whate er to choose an ob ect of meditation. For e ample,
the Samadhi called Atmadarshana might arise from simple
concentration of the thought on an imagined triangle, or on
the heart.
But as the union of two bodies in chemistry may be
endothermic or e othermic, the combination of O ygen with
Nitrogen is gentle, while that of O ygen with Hydrogen is
e plosi e; and as it is found that the most heat is disengaged
as a rule by the union of bodies most opposite in character,
and that the compound resulting from such is most stable, so
it seems reasonable to suggest that the most important and
enduring Samadhi results from the contemplation of the
Ob ect most opposite to the de otee. [On other planes, it has
been suggested that the most opposed types ma e the best
marriages and produce the healthiest children. The greatest
pictures and operas are those in which iolent e tremes are
blended, and so generally in e ery eld of acti ity. E en in
mathematics, the greatest parallelogram is formed if the lines
composing it are set at right angles. ED
41. Com-[mium from the foregoing. It may then be
suggested to the Philosophus, that although his wor will be
harder his reward will be greater if he choose a Deity most
remote from his own nature. This method is harder and
higher than that of Liber Ε. For a simple ob ect as there
suggested is of the same nature as the commonest things of
life, while e en the meanest Deity is beyond uninitiated
human understanding. On the same plane, too, Venus is
nearer to man than Aphrodite, Aphrodite than Isis, Isis than
Babalon, Babalon than Nuit.
Let him decide therefore according to his discretion on the
55
 THE EQUINOX
one hand and his aspiration on the other: and let not one
outrun his fellow.
42. ”‫; ש‬/‫ ?! ש‬concerning the alue of Mi: Mel/md, Certain
ob ections arise. Firstly, in the nature of all human lo e is
illusion, and a certain blindness. Nor is there any true lo e
below the Veil of the Abyss. For this reason We gi e this
Method to the Philosophus, as the re ection of the E empt
Adept, who re ects the Magister Templi and the Magus.
Let then the Philosophus attain this method as a foundation
of the higher Methods to be gi en to him when he attains those
higher grades.
Another ob ection lies in the partiality of this Method.
This is e ually a defect characteristic of the Grade.
43. Cm mz'ng :; ”Mable danger ofSuc ss. It may occur
that owing to the tremendous power of the Samadhi, o er-
coming all other memories as it should and does do, that the
mind of the de otee may be obsessed, so that he declare his
particular Deity to be sole God and Lord. This error has
been the foundation of all dogmatic religions, and so the cause
of more misery than all other errors combined.
The Philosophus is peculiarly liable to this because from
the nature of the Method he cannot remain sceptical ; he must
for the time belie e in his particular Deity. But let him (1)
consider that this belief is only a weapon in his hands, (2) af rm
suf ciently that his Deity is but an emanation or re ection or
eidolon ofa Being beyond him, as was said in Paragraph 2.
For if he fail herein, since man cannot remain permanently
in Samadhi, the memorised Image in his mind will be
degraded, and replaced by the corresponding Demon, to
his utter ruin.
56
 LIBER ASTARTE
Therefore, after Success, let him not delight o ermuch in
his Deity, but rather busy himself with his other wor , not
permitting that which is but a step to become a goal. As it is
written also, LiberCLXXXV. " remembering that Philosophy
:

is the E uilibrium of him that is in the House of Lo e.”

44. Comemz'ng secrecy, and the rz'z'es 0f B/oad. During
this practice it is most wise that the Philosophus utter no word
concerning his wor ing, as if it were a Forbidden Lo e that
consumeth him. But let him answer fools according to their
folly; for since he cannot conceal his lo e from his fellows,
he must spea to them as they may understand.
And as many Deities demand sacri ces, one of men,
another of cattle, a third of do es, let these sacri ces be
replaced by the true sacri ces in thine own heart. Yet if thou
must symbolise them outwardly for the hardness of thine
heart, let thine own blood, and not another’s, be spilt before
that altar.‘
Ne ertheless, forget not that this practice is dangerous,
and may cause the manifestation of e il things, hostile and
malicious, to thy great hurt.
45. Concerning (: further sacri/ite. Of this it shall be
understood that nothing is to be spo en nor need anything
;

be spo en to him that hath wisdom to comprehend the

number of the paragraph. And this sacri ce is fatal beyond
all, unless it be a sacri ce indeed. Yet there are those who
ha e dared and achie ed thereby.
46, Concerning yet a further sacri [ . Here it is spo en
of actual mutilation. Such acts are abominable; and while
IThe e ceptions to this rule pertain neither to this practice, nor to this
grade. N, Fra. A.".A.'.
57
 THE EQUINOX
they may bring success in this Method, form an absolute bar
to all further progress,
And they are in any case more li ely to lead to madness
than to Samadhi. He indeed who purposeth them is already
mad.
47. Concerning human ufa/im. During this practice
thou shalt in no wise withdraw thyself from human relations,
only guring to thyself that thy father οι“ thy brother or thy
wife is as it were an image of thy particular Deity. Thus
shall they gain, and not lose, by thy wor ing, Only in the
case of thy wife this is dif cult, since she is more to thee than
all others, and in this case thou mayst act with temperance,
lest her personality o ercome and destroy that of thy Deity.
48. Camemmg Me Holy Guardian Angel Do thou in
no wise confuse this in ocation with that.
49. The Benediction, And so may the Lo e that passeth
all Understanding eep your hearts and minds through IAn
AAnNAI CABAn and through BABALON of the City of the
Pyramids, and through Astart the Starry One green-girdled
in the name ARARITA. Α Ν

58
LIBER RV
VEL

SPIRITVS
SVB FIGVRA
CCVI

59
 A . . A .
'
Publication in Class B.
Imprimatur:
N.FraA. .A.'.
 LIBER RV
VEL SPIRITVS

SVB FIGVRA cc r
2. Let the elator obser e the current of his breath.
3. Let him in estigate the following statements, and pre—
pare a careful record of research.
(a) Certain actions induce the ow of the breath
through the right nostril (Pingala); and, con—
ersely, the ow of the breath through Pingala
induces certain actions,
( ) Certain other actions induce the ow of the
breath through the left nostril (Ida), and con ersely,
(6) Yet a third class of actions induce the ow of the
breath through both nostrils at once (Sushumna),
and con ersely
(d) The degree of mental and physical acti ity is
interdependent with the distance from the
nostrils at which the breath can be felt by the
bac of the hand.
4. First mt/iae. Let him concentrate his mind upon
the act of breathing, saying mentally “ The breath ows in,”
“The breath ows out," and record the results. (This
practice may resol e itself into Mahasatipatthana(1/z'a’e Liber
61
 THE EQUINOX
XXV.) or induce Samadhi. Whiche er occurs should be
followed up as the right Ingenium of the elator, or the
ad ice of his Practicus, may determine.)
5. Second mctz’ce. Pranayama. This is outlined in
Liber Ε. Further, let the elator accomplished in those
practices endea our to master a cycle of ο. 20. 40 or e en 16.
32. 64. But let this be done gradually and with due caution.
And when he is steady and easy both in Asana and Franz-
yama, let him still further increase the period.
Thus let him in estigate these statements which follow:
(a) If Pranayama be properly performed, the body
will rst of all become co ered with sweat This
sweat is different in character from that custom-
arily induced by e ertion. If the Practitioner rub
this sweat thoroughly into his body, he will greatly
strengthen it.
( ) The tendency to perspiration will stop as the
practice is continued, and the body become auto-
matically rigid
Describe this rigidity with minute accuracy.
(5) The state of automatic rigidity will de elop into

a state characterised by iolent spasmodic mo e—

ments of which the Practitioner is unconscious,
but of whose result he is aware. This result is
that the body hops gently from place to place.
After the rst two or three occurrences of this
e perience Asana is not lost. The body appears
(on another theory) to ha e lost its weight almost
completely, and to be mo ed by an un nown
force.
62
 PRAMAYAMA PROPERLY PERFORMED.
11 !?been round necessary show this because students wen: trying
do 11 without ”‫שחש‬:? in eum ways incorrculyiEm .

.. π ... oil’um mn. The ι...ι "‫תמשש‬-;! ? or me image is due me

spasmodic trembling which accompanics the adieu.
2. Kunbha nm, 3. The end of Rc a am‘
 LIBER RV
(a') As a de elopment of this stage, the body rises
into the air, and remains there for an appreci—
ably long period, from a second to an hour or
more.
Let him further in estigate any mental results which
may occur.
6. Thim’ fme/iae. In order both to economize his time and
to de elop his powers, let the elator practise the deep full
breathing which his preliminary e ercises will ha e taught
him during his wal s. Let him repeat a sacred sentence
(mantra), or let him count, in such a way that his footfall
beats accurately with the rhythm thereof, as is done in
dancing. Then let him practise Pranayama, at rst without
the Kumba ham, and paying no attention to the nostrils
otherwise than to eep them clear. Let him begin by an
indrawing of the breath for 4 paces, and a breathing out or
4. paces. Let him increase this gradually to 6.6, 8.8, 12.12,
16.16, and 24.24, or more if he be able. Ne t let him practise
in the proper proportion 4.8, 6.12, 8.16, 12.24 and so on.
Then, if he choose, let him recommence the series, addinga
gradually increasing period of Kumbha ham.
7. Four”; þmdi . Following on this third practice, let
him uic en his mantra and his pace, until the wal de elops
into a dance. This may also be practised with the ordinary waltz
step, using a mantra in three-time, such as π ον, π ον
‫;שמ‬/\!”? or IAo; Αο SABAO; in such cases the practice may
be combined with de otion to a particular deity; see Liber
CLXXV. For the dance as such it is better to use a mantra
of a non—committal character, such as ? ναι, ο a o , TD ,/ ‫? שמ‬
or the li e.
63
 THE EQUINOX
8. Fifth ‫ ?;ששחש‬Let him practise mental concentration
during the dance, and in estigate the following statements :
(a) The dance becomes independent of the will.
( ) Similar phenomena to those described in 5 (a) (b) ( )
(a') occur.
Certain important mental results occur.
(6)

9. A note concerning the depth and fulness of the breathing.

In all proper e piration, the last possible portion of air should
be e pelled. In this the muscles of the throat, chest, ribs,
and abdomen must be fully employed, and aided by the
pressing of the upper arms into the an s, and of the head
into the thora .
In all proper inspiration, the last possible portion of air
must be drawn into the lungs.
In all proper holding of the breath, the body must remain
absolutely still.
Ten minutes of such practice is ample to induce profuse
sweating in any place of a temperature of 17 C. or o er.
The progress of the elator in ac uiring a depth and
fulness of breath should be tested by the respirometer.
The e ercises should be carefully graduated to a oid
o erstrain and possible damage to the lungs.
This depth and fulness of breath should be ept as much
as possible, e en in the rapid e ercises, with the e ception of
the si th practice following.
10. Si th practice. Let the elator breathe as shallowly
and rapidly as possible. He should assume the attitude of
his moment of greatest e piration, and breathe only with the
muscles of his throat. He may also practise lengthening the
period between each shallow breathing.
64
 LIBER RV
(This may be combined when ac uired with concentration
on the Visuddhi cha ra, i.e. let him his mind unwa eringly
upon a point in the spine opposite the laryn . ED.)
.‫ ח‬Se /ml ; þmcfz' . Let the elator breathe as deeply?
and rapidly as possible.?
12. Ezghthpmcfz e. Let the elator practise restraint of
breathing in the following manner.
At any stage of breathing let him suddenly hold the
breath, enduring the need to breathe until it passes, returns,
and passes again, and so on until consciousness is lost,
either rising to Sainadhi or similar supernormal condition,
or falling into obli ion.
I3. Ninthþmcti . Let him practise the usual forms of
Pranayama, but let Kumbha ham be used after instead of
before e piration. Let him gradually increase the period of
this Kumbha ham as in the case of the other.
[4. A note concerning the conditions of these e periments.
The conditions fa ourable are dry and bracing air, a warm
climate, absence of wind, absence of noise, insects, and all
other disturbing influences,1 a retired situation, simple food
eaten in great moderation at the conclusion of the practices of
morning and afternoon and on no account before practising.
Bodily health is almost essential, and should be most care—
fully guarded. (See Liber CLXXXV., Tas of a Neophyte.)
A diligent and tractable disciple, or the Fractions of the
elator, should aid him in his wor . Such a disciple should
be noiseless, patient, igilant, prompt, cheerful, of gentle
manner and re erent to his master, intelligent to anticipate
᾽ Note that in the early stages of concentration of the mind, such
annoyances
become negligible.
u E 65
 THE EQUINOX
his wants, cleanly and gracious, not gi en to speech, de oted
and unsel sh. With all this he should be erce and terrible
to strangers and all hostile in uences, determined and igo-
rous, unceasingly igilant, the guardian of the threshold,
It is not desirable that the elator should employ any
other creature than a man, sa e in cases of necessity. Yet
for some of these purposes a dog will ser e, for others a
woman. There are also others appointed to ser e, but these
are not for the elator.
15. Tent/1 þmclz' , Let the elator e periment if he will
with inhalations of o ygen, nitrous o ide, carbon dio ide, and
other gases mi ed in small proportion with his air during his
practices. These e periments are to be conducted with
caution in the presence of a medical man of e perience, and
they are only useful as facilitating a simulacrum of the results
of the proper practices, and thereby enheartening the elator.
16. Eia/mih practice. Let the elator at any time
during the practices, especially during periods of Kum-
bha ham, throw his will utterly toward his Holy Guardian
Angel, directing his eyes inward and upward, and turning
bac his tongue as if to swallow it.
(This latter operation is facilitated by se ering the fraenum
linguae, which, if done, should be done by a competent
surgeon. We do not ad ise this or any similar method of
cheating dif culties. This is, howe er, harmless.)
In this manner the practice is to be raised from the
physical to the spiritual plane, e en as the words Ruh, Ruach’
Pneuma, Spiritus, Geist, Ghost, and indeed words of almost
all languages, ha e been raised from their physical meaning
of wind, air, breath, or mo ement, to the spiritual plane.
66
 LIBER RV
(RV is the old root meaning yoni, and hence Wheel (Fr.
roue, Lat. rota, wheel), and the corresponding Semitic
root means " to go.” Similarly Spirit is connected with
“ spiral." —-Ed.)
17. Let the elator attach no credit to any statements that
may ha e been made throughout the course of this instruction,
and re ect that e en the counsel which We ha e gi en as
suitable to the a erage case may be entirely unsuitable to his
Own.

67
LIBER LI BER
ARCANORVM ν CARCERORVM n
ATV "a TAHVTI QLIPHOTH
QUAS VIDIT CVM SVIS
ASAR IN GENIIS
AMENNTI
SVB FIGVRA ADDVNTVR SIGILLA ET
CCXXXI NOMINA EORVM
 A , '. A .‫?י‬

Publication in Class A.
Imprimatur:
N.FraA. .A.',
LIBER XXII DOMARUM MERCURII LIBER XXII CARCERORUM QLIPHOTH
CUM SUIS GENIIS CUM SUIS GENIIS
‫?א‬ ?

;,. a 2 -
;1
BIL-V
‫?” ח‬
ξΞ ‫?א‬ with ? ”““ V
‫ן‬. n “U“ ?

91:11:
.,;
; .

- 4-‫י ש י יי‬ ‫א מ‬ 4 ‫ א‬- ‫א‬ ‫ן‬

1 u

:
?1? Θ?
5653

‫ש”מ‬
,, ‫”? ייא‬ ‫מ‬: 80:
”
?
 LIBER CCXXXI
(This boo is true up to the grade of Adeptus E emptus. V.V.V.V.V. 8', 3".)

o. A, the heart of IAO, dwelleth in ecstasy in the secret

place of the thunders. Between Asar and Asi he abideth
in oy.
1. The lightnings increased and the Lord Tahuti stood
forth. The Voice came from the Silence. Then the One ran
and returned.
2. Now hath Nuit eiled herself, that she may open the
gate of her sister.
3. The Virgin of God is enthroned upon an oyster-shell;
she is li e a pearl, and see eth Se enty to her Four. In
her heart is Hadit the in isible glory.
4. Now riseth Ra-Hoor—Khuit, and dominion is estab—
lished in the Star of the Flame.
5. Also is the Star of the Flame e alted, bringing
benediction to the uni erse.
6. Here then beneath the winged Eros is youth, delighting
in the one and the other.
He is Asar between Asi and Nepthi; he cometh forth
from the eil.
7. He rideth upon the chariot of eternity; the white and
the blac are harnessed to his car. Therefore he re ecteth
the Fool, and the se enfold eil is re eiledi
71
 THE EQUINOX
8. Also came forth mother Earth with her lion, e en
Se het, the lady of Asi.
9. Also the Priest eiled himself, lest his glory be profaned,
lest his word be lost in the multitude.
IO. Now then the Father of all issued as a mighty wheel;
the Sphin , and the dog—headed god, and Typhon, were bound
on his circumference.
11. Also the lady Maat with her feather and her sword
abode to udge the righteous.
For Fate was already established.
12. Then the holy one appeared in the great water of the
North; as a golden dawn did he appear, bringing benediction
to the fallen uni erse.
13. Also Asar was hidden in Amennti and the Lords of
;

Time swept o er him with the sic le of death.

14. And a mighty angel appeared as 3 woman, pour-
ing ials of woe upon the ames, lighting the pure
stream with her brand of cursing. And the ini uity was
ery great.
15. Then the Lord Khem arose, He who is holy among
the highest, and set up his crowned staff for to redeem the
uni erse.
16. He smote the towers of wailing; he bra e them in
pieces in the re of his anger, so that he alone did escape
from the ruin thereof.
17. Transformed, the holy irgin appeared as a uidic re,
ma ing her beauty into a thunderbolt.
18. By her spells she in o ed the Scarab, the Lord Kheph—
Ra, so that the waters were clo en and the illusion of the
towers was destroyed.
72
 LIBER
Then the sun did appear unclouded, and the mouth of
19.
Asi was on the mouth of Asar.
20. Then also the Pyramid was builded so that the Initia-
tion might be complete.
21. And in the heart of the Sphin danced the Lord
Adonai, in His garlands of roses and pearls ma ing glad the
concourse of things; yea, ma ing glad the concourse of things.

THE GENII OF THE 22 SCALES OF THE SERPENT AND OF TIIE ‫! ”ש‬-‫? ) ש‬

‫א‬ Atu.iao-uta[& y . . . . . . Amprodias?

Be b‘aoooabitom . . . . . . Baratchial?
Gitwnosap wllois . . . . . . GargoPhias?
anazartame [3:51 . , . . . . Dagdagiel?
Ηοο-οο - . . . . . . . Hemethterith?
‫ י‬Vuaretza——[a secret name follows . . . . Uriens?
' oomasar . . . . . . . amradiel
Chi a-abrahadabra-cada iii . . . . . Characith
ealtzer- -de cr al . . . . . . Temphioth?
᾽
ν α πξ π . , . . . . Yamatu?
Keruguna iel . . . . . . . Kurgasia ?
Lusanaherandraton . . . . . . Lafcursia ?
‫ מ‬Malai . . . . . . . . Mal unofat?
Nadimraphoroioz 9alai . . . . . Niantiel?
Salaelal amrodnaeciz . . . . . Sa sa salim?
:; anaaaoooc -iz . . . . . . A’ano’nin?
a Puraemetaiiapnmetai . . . . . . Parfa iras
?
Xaneazeran69-iz [69 :sh, . . . . Tzu ii'u
QaniAnay -ipamai . . . . . . Quliel ?
Ra-a-gioselahladnaimawa-iz . . . . . Raf fu?
w Shabna -odobor . . . . . . Shalicu
n Thath’th‘thitht huthAthi . . . . . Thantifa ath
73
 THE EQUINOX
NOTE BY H. FRA, P. 7 ‫ י‬4? (1899) ON THE R.O.T.A. BY THE
QABALAH OF NINE CHAMBERS
Units are di ine—The upright Triangle.
Tens re ected—The a erse Triangle.
Hundreds e uilibrated—The He agram their combination.
I. Light—[Here can be no e il. ‫?א‬ The hidden light—the “wisdom of God
foolishness with men.”
᾽ The Adept bearing Light.
? The Light in dar ness and illusion.
[Khephra about to rise
2. Action—J Acti e and Passi e—dual current, etc—the Alternating Forces
in Harmony.
: The Contending Forces— uctuation of earth-life,?
‘I The Twins embracing—e entual glory of harmonised life

under Θ.
3. The Way—[Here also no e il : The Higher Self.
'
The se ere discipline of the Path.?
‫ ש‬The udgment and resurrection?
[o“ oD and 5 6D rituals ?
4. Life—W The Mother of God. Aima.
The Son Slain.?
n The Bride.?
5. Form (Puri cation).—‘I The Supernal Sulphur purifying by re.
?
The Infernal Water TIL, purifying by putrefaction.
This wor is not complete; therefore is there
no e uilibration.
6. \-‫ ?”!ש ש מ‬The Reconciler [1 of \ ? abo e.
D The Reconciler below [lion and eagle, etc. .
This wor also un nished.
7. [Eri .— The Powers of Spiritual Regeneration.
[The .A.M. as Osiris risen between Isis and Nephthys. The
path of , ? Diana, abo e his head
? The
gross powers of generation.
8. Rule— The Orderly Ruling of di erse forces.
The Ruin of the Unbalanced Forces.?
9. Slabi/igyr-D The Force that represses e il.
The Force that restores the world ruined by e il.?
74
 LIBER TAV
νΕι
KABBALE TRIVM LITERARUM
SVB FIGVRA
CD

75
 A , ' . A. ' .
Publication in Class A.
Imprimatur:
N. Fra4'.A.'.A.'.
 LIBER [KABBAL/E TRIUM LIT aRARUMJ n SV ! "(: a Cl)

. .
‫ש‬-\! ‫ש‬ ‫מ‬ Ν

Arm ο, Aira Η....“

w
:Ξ mas;—9153
ac?
em
C
Cam"?
Claim
π: ‫ש‬- : ??
515 /. :?mam—imam
mam.-oa;?

‫ש‬ ;-
‫ש שחש‬ ?
,-‫? ש ת ש‬
mrazm.
ΞΞ

Ξ,
‫? ש‬

ea o: ‫א‬ 3 ‫ש‬ ?

‫ש‬
Camisoles.?

... m:;
‫ש חח‬
c;,?
2995.-‫? משמ‬
90 Erica.

...:ΞΞ :
P:? C: Q::w.
Han- :

:.
immo? ‫? ש‬ ‫ש‬
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?

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mss.

ΘΗ,... menm
Ξ ‫ש ח חשח‬
...-Ξ
‫ש‬

C.?mz m Cam-Ju

.... . o:
o:
Ξ: .........:π
magnnm;

mono mono em
"ro ‫? ש‬

.0059:8105

... ,... hoc?

wan.-no
69- ‫?א‬

‫ש‬ ? ‫? ש‬
ura
?

Canon.”
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CWT;
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Ξ .? mwmanr? αο α
Ξοπ Ξ :
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nr

his analysis may be chec ed by adding the columns critically,

69 8 ,93,114,135,246,35 Di iding by 3 we get 23, 27, 31, 3
45,8 21 11 which in the Sepher Sephiroth mean re spe cti ely Life,
Purity, N egation, “38 1 :418, Innocent, Formation, Fray er,
Weeping, l'ha analogies are ob ious.
LIBER OS ABYSMI
VEL

DAATH
SVB FIGVRA
CDLXXIV

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‘

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Imprimatur:
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 LIBER OS ABYSMI
VEL DAATH
SVB FIGVRA CDLXXIV

1. This boo is the Gate ο the Secret of the Uni erse.

2. Let the E empt Adept procure the Prolegomena of Kant,
and study it, paying special attention to the Antinomies.
3. Also Hume's doctrine of Causality in his “ En uiry."
4. Also Herbert Spencer’s discussion of the three theories
of the Uni erse in his " First Principles," Part I.
5. Also Hu ley’s Essays on Hume and Ber eley.
6. Also Crowley‘s Essays: Berashith, Time, The Soldier
and the Hunchbac , et cetera.
7. Also the ”Logi ” of Hegel.
8 Also the “ Questions of King Milinda" and the Buddhist
Suttas which bear on Metaphysic.
9. Let him also be accomplished in Logic. (Formal Logic,
Keynes.) Further let him study any classical wor s to which
his attention may be suf ciently directed in the course of his
reading.
10. Now let him consider special problems, such as the
Origin of the World, the Origin of E il, In nity, the Absolute,
the Ego and the non—Ego, Freewill and Destiny, and such
others as may attract him.
79
 THE EQUINOX
11. Let him subtly and e actly demonstrate the fallacies
of e ery nown solution, and let him see a true solution by
his right Ingenium.
12. In all this let him be guided only by clear reason, and
let him forcibly suppress all other ualities such as Intuition,
Aspiration, Emotion, and the li e.
13. During these practices all forms of Magic Art and
Meditation are forbidden to him. It is forbidden to him to
see any refuge from his intellect.
14. Let then his reason hurl itself again and again against
the blan wall of mystery which will confront him.
15. Thus also following is it said, and we deny it not.
At last automatically his reason will ta e up the practice,
sua sponte, and he shall ha e no rest therefrom
16. Then will all phenomena which present themsel es to
him appear meaningless and disconnected, and his own Ego
will brea up into a series of impressions ha ing no relation
one with the other, or with any other thing.
17. Let this state then become so acute that it is in truth
Insanity, and let this continue until e haustion.
18. According to a certain deeper tendency of the indi—
idual will be the duration of this state.
19. It may end in real insanity, which concludes the acti i-
ties of the Adept during this present life, or by his rebirth into
his own body and mind with the Simplicity of a little child.
20. And then shall he nd all his faculties unimpaired,
yet cleansed in a manner ineffable.
21. And he shall recall the simplicity of the Tas of the
Adeptus Minor, and apply himself thereto with fresh energy
in a more direct manner.
80
 LIBER OS ABYSMI
22. And in his great wea ness it may be that for awhile
the new Will and Aspiration are not puissant, yet being
undisturbed by those dead weeds of doubt and reason which
he hath uprooted, they grow imperceptibly and easily li e a
ower.
23. And with the reappearance of the Holy Guardian
Angel he may be granted the highest attainments, and be truly
tted for the full e perience of the destruction 01 the Uni erse,
And by the Uni erse We mean not that petty Uni erse
which the mind of man can concei e, but that which is
re ealed to his soul in the Samadhi of Atmadarshana.
24.. Thence may he enter into a real communion with
those that are beyond, and he shall be competent to recei e
communication and instruction from Oursel es directly
25, Thus shall We prepare him for the Confrontation of
Choronzon and the Ordeal 01 the Abyss, when we ha e
recei ed him into the City of the Pyramids.
26, So, being of Us, let the Master of the Temple
accomplish that Wor which is appointed.
(In Liber CDXVIII. is an ade uate account of this Ordeal
and Reception. See also Liber CLVI. for the preparation)
27. Also concerning the Reward thereof, of his entering
into the Palace of the King’s Daughter, and of that which
shall thereafter befall, let it be understood of the Master of
the Temple. Hath he not attained to Understanding? Yea,
erily, hath he not attained to Understanding?

u F 81
LIBER H A D
SVB FIGVRA
DLV

83
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' . A .
' .

Publication in Class D
(for Winners of the Ordeal X).
Imprimatur:
7'7‘7‘ ' ‫י‬

V.V.V.V4V. . . .

N.FraA,‘ Α .
Ο . 7 4".
 LIBER H A D
SVB FIGVRA DLV

οοο This is the Boo of the Cult of the In nite Within.

oo. The Aspirant is Nuit. Nuit is the in nite e pansion
of the Rose; Hadit the in nite concentration of the Rood.
(lust;/When f V. V. V. V.V)
o. First let the Aspirant learn in his heart the Second
Chapter of the Boo of the Law. 627011”/‫ ? שח‬of V V. V. V. V)
1. Worship, i.e. identify thyself with, Nuit, as a lambent
ame of blue, all-touching, all-penetrant, her lo ely hands
upon the blac earth, and her lithe body arched for lo e, and
her soft feet not hurting the little owers, e en as She is
imaged in the Stel of Re ealing.
This z': the-675! þmclz'ce of Meditatz'on ( . 1. 26).
2. Let him further identify himself with the heart of Nuit,
whose ecstasy is in that of her children, and her oy to see
their oy, who sayeth: Ilo e you! I yearn to you. Pale or
purple, eiled or oluptuous, I who am all pleasure and
purple, and drun enness of the innermost sense, desire you.
Put on the wings, and arouse the coiled splendour within you.
Come unto me! . . . Sing the rapturous lo e—song unto mel
Burn to me perfumes Wear to me ewels! Drin to me, for
!

lo e you! I lo e you! I am the blue-lidded daughter of

85
 THE EQUINOX
Sunset; I am the na ed brilliance of the oluptuous night-
s y. To me! To me!
This is the second fracticeof Mali/align (α . l. 13, 61.
63, 64, 65).
3.Let the Aspirant apply himself to comprehend Hadit as
an une tended point clothed with Light ineffablei And let
him beware lest he be dazzled by that Light,
This is lhe rsz‘pmctiee of Intelligence (α . I . 2).
4. Let the Aspirant apply himself to comprehend Hadit
as the ubi uitous centre of e ery sphere concei able.
This is the second mctiee of Intelligence (cum. I , 3).
5. Let the Aspirant apply himself to comprehend Hadit as
the soul of e ery man, and of e ery star, con oining this in
his Understanding with the Word ( . . z). " E ery man
and e ery woman is a star." Let this conception be that of
Life, the gi er of Life, and let him percei e that therefore the
nowledge of Hadit is the nowledge of death.
This is the lhim’pmeliee of Intelligence (ee . , 6)
6. Let the Aspirant apply himself to comprehend Hadit
as the Magician or ma er of Illusion, and the E orcist or
destroyer of Illusion, under the gure of the a le of the Wheel,
and the cube in the circle. Also as the Uni ersal Soul of
Motion.
(This conception harmonises Thoth and Harpocrates in a
ery complete and miraculous manner. Thoth is both the
Magus of Taro (see Lib. 418) and the Uni ersal Mercury;
Harpocrates both the destroyer of Typhon and the Babe on
the Lotus. Note that the “Ibis position ” formulates this
conception most e actly. ED.)
This is thefann‘h pyridine of [nz‘elhgenee ( . ll. 7).
86
 LIBER H A D
7. Let the Aspirant apply himself to comprehend Hadit
as the perfect, that is Not, and sol e the mystery of the
numbers of Hadit and his components by his right Ingenium.
This is the fth þmcti !?[/”!6114967666 ( . ll. 15, 16).
8. Let the Aspirant, bearing him as a great King, root
out and destroy without pity all things in himself and his
surroundings which are wea , dirty, or diseased, or other-
wise unworthy. And let him be e ceeding proud and
oyous.
This is ”7561974666?/ !!!? afElhics ( . [I. 18, 19, 20, 21).
9. Let the Aspirant apply himself to comprehend Hadit
as the Sna e that gi eth Knowledge and Delight and bright
glory, who stirreth the hearts of men with drun enness. This
sna e is blue and gold; its eyes are red, and its spangles
green and ultra-Violet.
(That is, as the most e alted form of the Serpent
Kundalini.)
This is the 52"th practice of [hie/[game ( . . 22,
50, 51).
10. Let him further identify himself with this Sna e.
This is the semmiþmctice ”1164664160/” !? ( l
. . 22).
II. Let the Aspirant ta e wine and strange drugs,
according to his nowledge and e perience, and be drun
thereof.
(The Aspirant should be in so sensiti e a condition that a
single drop, perhaps e en the smell, should suf ce. ED.)
This is ihe rst þmcti of Magich Ari ( . 1 . 22).
12. Let the Aspirant concentrate his consciousness in the
Rood Cross set up upon the Mountain, and identify himself
with It. Let him be well aware of the difference between Its
87
 THE EQUINOX
own soul, and that thought which it habitually awa es in his
own mind.
This is the 76161562?/‫ ?!שש‬of Medifalim, alid as it will be
foimll’, a ”7612671510?!/ ‫( ?ש‬md hai/many and ” ‫ ?”!?ששמ‬f the
fme/ires af [hie/[game ( . . 22),
13. Let the Aspirant apply himself to comprehend Hadit
as the Unity which is the Negati e. (Ain Elohim. ED.)
This is the se em‘h þmdire of bite/[game (cu/ . . 23).
14.. Let the Aspirant li e the life of a strong and beautiful
being, proud and e alted, contemptuous of and erce toward
all that is base and ile.
This is the seama’ fme/ite of Ethics ( . H. 24, 25,
45-49, 52. 56-60)
15. Let the Aspirant apply himself to comprehend Hadit
according to this 26th erse of the Second Chapter of the
Boo of the Law. And this shall be easy for him if he ha e
well accomplished the Third Practice of Meditation.
This is the eighth þme/ice 13767166!/‫( ?!?”תחש‬ . 1 . 26).
16. Let the Aspirant destroy Reason in himselfaccording
to the practice in Liber CDLXXIV.
This is lhefoiin‘h þmctiee of Meditation (eum:. . 27-33)
17. Let the Aspirant obser e duly the Feasts appointed
by the A . . A . ' . and perform such rituals of the elements
‫?י‬

as he possesseth, in o ing them duly in their season.

This is the second fme/ize of Magieh AM (can: I .
35-43)-
Hadit
18. Let the Aspirant apply himself to comprehend
as a babe in the egg of the Spirit (A asha. Ε .) that is
in isible within the 4 elements,
This is the him'h þmeiiee of Intelligence (α . . 49).
88
 LIBER H A D
19. The Aspirant seated in his Asana will suddenly
commence to breathe strangely, and this without the Operation
of his will; the Inspiration will be associated with the
thought of intense e citement and pleasure, e en to e -
haustion; arid the E piration ery rapid and forceful, as if
this e citement were suddenly released.
This is the rst and last Indication of the Sign of the
Beginning af this Result (cum. . 63)
20. A light will appear to the Aspirant, une pectedly.
Hadit will arise within him, and Nuit concentrate Herself
upon him from without, He will be o ercome, and the
Con unction of the In nite Without with the In nite Within
will ta e place in his soul, and the One be resol ed into the
None.
This is the first [Iittieatibri of the Nature of the Result
(cam. 1 . 61, 62, 64).
21. Let the Aspirant strengthen his body by all means in
his power, and let him with e ual pace re ne all that is in
him to the true ideal of Royalty. Yet let his formula, as a
King’s ought, be E cess.
This is the thirdg mctice of Ethics (cum. 1 . 7o, 71).
22. Το the Aspirant who succeeds in this practice the
result goes on increasing until its clima in his physical
death in its due season. This practice should, howe er,
prolong life,
This is the 5860116 Indication of Nature of the Rem/t
( . I. 66, 72-74).
23. Let the Adept aspire to the practice of Liber XI. and
preach to man ind.
This is the fourth Practice ξ Ethics (cum. . 76).
89
 THE EQUINOX
the Name, fours uare, mystic,
24. Let the Adept worship
wonderful, of the Beast, and the name of His house; and
gi e blessing and worship to the prophet of the lo ely
Star.
7712": 2'5 the/3ft ; practice ofE/hz'rs ( . 78, 7g).
.

25. Let the Aspirant e pand his consciousness to that of

Nuit, and bring it rushing inward. It may be practised by
imagining that the Hea ens are falling, and then transferring
the consciousness to them.
This is the/ fthþmctz' ofMedz‘latz'm. (Instruction of
V.V.V.V.V.)
26. Summary. Preliminaries.
These are the necessary possessions
I. Wine and strange drugs.
27. Summary continued. Preliminaries.
These are the necessary comprehensions.
I. The nature of Hadit (and of Nuit, and the relations
between them.)
28 Summary continued. Preliminaries.
These are the meditations necessary to be accomplished.
1. Identi cation with Nuit, body and spirit,
Identi cation with Hadit as the Sna e.
Identi cation with Hadit as the Rood Cross.
Destruction of Reason.
(."-PQ"?

The Falling of the Hea ens.

29. Summary continued. Preliminaries.
These are the Ethical Practices to be accomplished.
I. The destruction of all unworthiness in one‘s self
and one‘s surroundings.
2. Fulness, almost iolence, of life.
90
 LIBER H A D
30. Summary continued. Preliminaries.
These are the Magic Arts to be practised.
I. During the preparation, perform the In ocations of
the Elements.
2. Obser e the Feasts appointed by the A A
31, Summary continued. The actual Practice,
1. Procure the suitable into ication.
2. As Nuit, contract thyself with in nite force upon
Hadit.
32. Summary continued. The Results.
Peculiar automatic breathing begins.
A light appears.
Samadhi of the two In nites within aspirant.
???

lntensi cation of 3 on repetition

Prolongation of life.
Death becomes the clima of the practice.
33. Summary concluded.
These are the practices to be performed in to en of
Than sgi ing for success.
i. Aspiration to Liber XI.
2. Preaching of Θ ιι to man ind.
3. Blessing and Worship to the prophet of the lo ely
Star.

91
LIBER TAV
SVB FIGVRA
DCCCXXXI

93
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?

Publication in Class B.
Imprimatur:
N.FraAn.A.‘
 LIBER TAV
SVB FIGVRA DCCCXXXI

(This boo was formerly called VESTAr It is referred to the path of Virgo and
the letter Ved.)

I.
L This is the Boo of drawing all to a point.
2.Herein are described three methods whereby the
consciousness of the Many may be melted to that of the One.

FIRST METHOD
o. Let a magical circle be constructed, and within it an
upright Tau drawn upon the ground Let this Tau be
di ided into 10 s uares (see Liber CMLXIII., Illustration 1).
I. Let the Magician be armed with the Sword of Art.ll
2. Let him wear the blac robe of a Neophyte.
3. Let a single small ame of camphor burn at the top of
the Tau, and let there be no other light or ornament
4. Let him “open ” the Temple as in DCLXXL, or in any
other con enient manner.
1
This ritual is preferably performed by the Adept as an Hermit armed with wand
and lamp, instead of as in te tin.
95
 THE EQUINOX
5. Standing at the appropriate uarters, at the edge of
the circle, let him banish the 5 elements by the appropriate
rituals.
6. Standing at the edge of the circle, let him banish the
7 planets by the appropriate rituals. Let him face the
actual position of each planet in the hea ens at the time of
his wor ing.
7. Let him further banish the twel e signs of the odiac
by the appropriate rituals, facing each sign in turn.
8. Let him at each of these 24 banishings ma e three
circuits widdershins, with the signs of Horns and Harpo—
crates in the East as he passes it
9. Let him ad ance to the s uare of Mal uth in the Tau,
and perform a ritual of banishing Mal uthi But here let
him not lea e not the s uare to circumambulate the circle, but
use the formula and God-form of Harpocrates.
10, Let him ad ance in turn to the s uares Jesod, Hod,
Netzach, Tiphereth, Geburah, Chesed, and banish each by
appropriate rituals.
11. And let him now that such rituals include the pro—
nunciation of the appropriate names of God bac wards, and
also a curse against the Sephira in respect of all that which it
is, for that it is that which distinguishes and separates it from
Ketherl
12. Ad ancing to the s uares of Binah and Cho mah in
turn, let him banish these also. And for that by now an awe
and trembling shall ha e ta en hold upon him, let him banish
these by a supreme ritual of inestimable puissance. And let
him beware e ceedingly lest his will falter, or his courage faill
13, Finally, let him, ad ancing to the s uare of Kether,
96
 LIBER TAV
banish that also by what means he may. At the end whereof
let him set his foot upon the light, e tinguishing it ; 1 and, as
he falleth, let him fall within the circle.

SECOND METHOD
1. Let the Hermit be seated in his Asana, robed, and let
him meditate in turn upon e ery se eral part of his body until
that part is so unreal to him that he no longer includes it in
his comprehension of himself. For e ample, if it be his right
foot, let him touch that foot, and be alarmed, thin ing, “A
foot! What is this foot? Surely I am not alone in the
Hermitage! "
And this practice should be carried out not only at the
time of meditation, but during the day’s wor .
2. This meditation is to be assisted by reasoning; as,
“This foot is not If I should lose my foot, I should still
I.
be I. This foot is a mass of changing and decaying esh,
bone, s in, blood, lymph, etc,, while I am the Unchanging and
Immortal Spirit, uniform, not made, unbegotten, formless,
self-luminous," etc.
3. This practice being perfect for each part of the body,
let him combine his wor ings until the whole body is thus
understood as the non-Ego and as illusion.
4. Let then the Hermit, seated in his Asana, meditate
upon the Mulaclhara ca ra and its correspondence as a power
of the mind, and destroy it in the same manner as aforesaid.
Also by reasoning: ”This emotion (memory, imagination,
intellect, will, as it may be) is not I. This emotion is
1
If armed with wand and lamp, let him e tinguish the light with his hand—N.
VII G 97
 THE EQUINOX
transient: Iam immo able, This emotion is passion; lam
peace.” And so on.
Let the other Ca rams in their turn be thus destroyed,
each one with its mental or moral attribute.
5. In this let him be aided by his own psychological
analysis, so that no part of his conscious being be thus left
undestroyed. And on his thoroughness in this matter may
turn his success.
6. Lastly, ha ing drawn all his being into the highest
Sahasrara Ca ra, let him remain eternally ed in meditation
thereupon.
7. Aum.
THIRD METHOD
1.Let the Hermit stimulate each of the senses in turn,
concentrating upon each until it ceases to stimulate.
[The senses of sight and touch are e tremely dif cult to
con uer. In the end the Hermit must be utterly unable by
any effort to see or feel the ob ect of those senses. O. M,
2. This being perfected, let him combine them two at a time.
For e ample, let him chew ginger (taste and touch), and
watch a waterfall (sight and hearing), and watch incense (sight
and smell), and crunch sugar in his teeth (taste and hearing),
and so on.
3, These twenty- e practices being accomplished, let him
combine them three at a time, then four at a time.
4. Lastly, let him combine all the senses in a single ob eCt,
And herein may a si th sense be included. He is then to
withdraw himself entirely from all these stimulations, perinde
ac cada er, in spite of his own efforts to attach himself to them.
5. By this method it is said that the demons of the Ruach,
98
 LIBER TAV
that is, thoughts and memories, are inhibited, and We deny
it not. But if so be that they arise, let him build a wall
between himself and them according to the method.
6. Thus ha ing stilled the oices of the Si , may he sense
the subtlety of the Se enth
7. Aum.
[We add the following, contributed by a friend at that time without the
A A and its dependent orders He wor ed out the method himself, and
we thin it may pro e useful to many Ο. .

(I) The beginner must rst practise breathing regularly

through the nose, at the same time trying hard to imagine
that the breath goes to the A na and not to the lungs
The prana yama e ercises described in the EgUINOX, Vol.
I,, No. 4, p. 101, must ne t be practised, always with the idea
that A na is breathing.
Try to realise that þoze/ef, not air, is being drawn into the
A na, is being concentrated there during Kumbha a, and is
i ifying the A na during e piration, Try rather to increase
the force of concentration in A na than to increase e ces-
si ely the length of Kumbha a, as this is dangerous if rashly
underta en
(2) Wal slowly in a uiet place; realise that the legs
are mo ing, and study their mo ements. Understand thor-
oughly that these mo ements are due to ner e messages sent
down from the brain, and that the controlling power lies in
the A na. The legs are automatic, li e those of a wooden
mon ey: the power in A na is that which does the wor , is
that which wal s. This is not hard to realise, and should
be grasped rmly, ignoring all other wal ing sensations.
Apply this method to e ery other muscular mo ement.
99
 THE EQUINOX
(3) Lie at on the bac with the feet under a hea y piece
of furniture. Keeping the spine straight and the arms in a
line with the body, rise slowly to a sitting posture, by means
of the force residing in the A na (i.e. try to pre ent the mind
dwelling on any other e ertion or sensation).
Then let the body slowly down to its original position.
Repeat this two or three times e ery night and morning, and
slowly increase the number of repetitions.
(Δ,) Try to transfer all bodily sensations to the A na :
e.g.,
“ am cold ” should mean “ Ifeel cold," “
or, better still, I am
aware of a sensation of cold "——transfer this to the A na,
“ The A na is aware,” etc,
(5) Pain if ery slight may easily be transferred to the
A na after a little practice The best method for a beginner
is to imagine he has a pain in the body and then imagine
that it passes directly into the A na, It does not pass through
the inter ening structures, but goes direct. After continual
practice e en se ere pain may be transferred to the A na.
(6) Fi the mind on the base of the spine and then
gradually mo e the thoughts upwards to the A na.
(In this meditation A na is the Holy of Holies, but it is
dar and empty.)
Finally, stri e hard to dri e anger and other obsessing
thoughts into the A na, Try to de elop a tendency to thin
hard of A na When these thoughts attac the mind, and let
A na con uer them.
Beware of thin ing of “ my A na." In these meditations
and practices, A na does not belong to you; A na is the
master and wor er, you are the wooden mon ey,

[00
LIBER VIARVM VUE
SVB FIGVRA
DCCCLXVIII

IOI
 A. .A.'.
Publication in Class .
Imprimatur:
N.FraA.',A.‘.
 LIBER VIARVM ν ΑΞ
SVB FIGVRA DCCCLXVI II

2. n The Formulation of the Body of Light. Liber O.

W The Passage of the King’s Chamber. Liber Η Η Η.
eum
20.
55100) 19. Adeplus.
The Illumination of the Sphere. Liber H Η Η.?
;0
18. P The Di ining of Destiny. Liber Memori Vise CMXIII.
am 17. below The Adoration under the Starry Hea en. Liber XI., NV (from?
Liber CCXX.)?
‫ן‬ ?
16. paulus
The Destruction of the House of God. Liber XVI.
15. Nine
The Sabbath of the Adepts. Liber CCCLXX.
“ π
14. ?
S rying in the Spirit Vision: The Ladder of Jacob. Liber O.
13. ν The Preparation of the Corpse for the Tomb. Liber XXV.

. ‫ מ‬The Sleep of Siloam. Liber CDLI.?

M. The Protection of the Sphere Liber Ο.?
below
The E ocation of the Mighty Ones, Liber?
‫ י‬The Absorbion o( the Emanations. Liber DCCCXI.?
mum
‫? שמ‬
The Passing of the Hall of the Balances. Liber XXX.?
n The Ritual of the Holy Graal. Liber CLVI.?
r The Utterance of the Pythoness. Liber MCXXXIX.
Se en

ψαι

;?
am
M. The Forthcoming of the Hierophant. Liber VIII. (8th [Ethyr?
in Liber 418).?
The Formulation of the Flaming Star. Liber V.?
below

mgndns

Three
'I The Incarnation of the Inmost Light. Liber DLV Had (from
Liber CCXX.)
I.
below The Supreme Ecstasy of Purity. Liber LXXIII.?
The Uni ersal Af rmations and Denials. Liber B ( .).?
Three
‫ א‬The transcending of all these; yea, the transcending of all these.?
Se en Inferiors: Se en Superiors: Se en abo e All:
and Se en Interpretations of e ery Word.

103
LIBER ‫? אשיח‬
VIA: MEMORUE
SVB FIGVRA
CMXIII

105
 A. '. A. '
Publication in Class .
Imprimatur:
N‘FraA.'.A.‘
 LIBER ‫? אשיח‬
VI./E MEMORUE

SVB FIGVRA CMXIll

οοο. May be.
[00. It has not been possible to construct this boo on a
basis of pure Scepticism. This matters less, as the practice
leads to Scepticism, and it may be through it
o. This boo is not intended to lead to the supreme
attainment. On the contrary, its results de ne the separate
being of the E empt Adept from the rest of the Uni erse, and
disco er his relation to that Uni erse.
I. It is of such importance to the E empt Adept that We
cannot o errate it. Let him in no wise ad enture the plunge
into the Abyss until he ha e accomplished this to his most
perfectest satisfaction.
2. For in the Abyss no effort is anywise possible. The
Abyss is passed by irtue of the mass of the Adept and his
Karma. Two forces impelhim: (I) the attraction of Binah, (2)
the impulse of his Karma; and the ease and e en the safety
of his passage depend on the strength and direction of the
latter.
3. Should one rashly dare the passage, and ta e the
irre ocable Oath of the Abyss, he might be lost therein
through [Eons of incalculable agony; he might e en be
107
 THE EQUINOX
thrown bac upon Chesed, with the terrible Karma of failure
added to his original imperfection.
4, It is e en said that in certain circumstances it is
possible to fall altogether from the Tree of Life, and to attain
the Towers of the Blac Brothers. But We hold that this is
not possible for any adept who has truly attained his grade,
or e en for any man who has really sought to help humanity
E en for a single second,1 and that although his aspiration
ha e been impure through anity or any similar imperfection.
5. Let then the Adept who nds the result of these medita—
tions unsatisfactory refuse the Oath of the Abyss, and li e so
that his Karma gains strength and direction suitable to the
tas at some future period.
6. Memory is essential to the indi idual consciousness;
otherwise the mind were but a blan sheet on which shadows
are cast. But we see that not only does the mind retain im-
pressions, but that it is so constituted that its tendency is
to retain some more e cellently than others. Thus the great
classical scholar, Sir Richard Jebb, was unable to learn e en
the schoolboy mathematics re uired for the preliminary
e amination at Cambridge Uni ersity, and a special act of
the authorities was re uired in order to admit him,
7. The rst method to be described has been detailed
in Bhi hu Ananda Metteya’s “Training of the Mind “
(EQUINOX, 1.5, pp. 28—59, and especially pp, 48-56). We ha e
little to alter or to add. Its most important result, as regards
the Oath of the Abyss, is the freedom from all desire or
clinging to anything which it gi es. Its second result is to
1
Those in possession of Liber CLXXXV. will note that in e ery grade but
one the aspirant is pledged to ser e his inferiors in the Order:
108
 LIBER ‫? אשיח‬
aid the adept in the second method, by supplying him with
further data for his in estigation
8. The stimulation of memory useful in both practices
is also achie ed by simple meditation (Liber Ε), in a certain
stage of which old memories arise unbidden. The adept
may then practise this, stopping at that stage, and encourag—
ing instead of suppressing the ashes of memory.
9. oroaster has said, “E plore the Ri er of the Soul,
whence or in what order you ha e come; so that although
you ha e become a ser ant to the body, you may again rise
to that Order (the A.", A:.) from which you descended,
oining Wor s (Kamma) to Sacred Reason (the Tao)."
10. The Result of the Second Method is to show the
Adept to what end his powers are destined. When he has
passed the Abyss and become NEMO, the return of the
current causes him “to appear in the Hea en of Jupiter as
ι morning star or as an e ening Star”1 In other words, he
should disco er what may be the nature of his wor . Thus
Mohammed was a Brother re ected into l'etzach, Buddha
a Brother re ected into Hod, or, as some say, Daath. The
present manifestation of Frater . to the outer is in Tiphereth,
to the inner in the path of Leo.
11 First Method. Let the E empt Adept rst train
himself to thin bac wards by e ternal means, as set forth
here following,
(a) Let him learn to write bac wards, with either hand,
( ) Let him learn to wal bac wards.
1
The formula of the Great Wor “Sol e er Coagula," may be thus inter-
preted. Sol e, the dissolution of the Self in the In nite; Coagula, the
presentation of the In nite in a concrete form to the outer. Both are necessary
to the Tas of a Master of the Temple,
109
 THE EQUINOX
( ) Let him constantly watch, if con enient, cinemato-
graph lms, and listen to phonograph records,
re ersed, and let him so accustom himself to
these that they appear natural, and appreciable as
a whole
(a!) Let him practise spea ing bac wards; thus, for
“I am He” let him say, “ Eh ma 1.”
(e) Let him learn to read bac wards. In this it is
dif cult to a oid cheating one's self, as an e pert
reader sees a sentence at a glance. Let his disciple
read aloud to him bac wards, slowly at rst, then
more uic ly.
() Of his own ingenium let him de ise other methods.
12. In this his brain will at rst be o erwhelmed by a
sense of utter confusion ; secondly, it will endea our to e ade
the dif culty by a tric . The brain will pretend to be wor ing
bac wards when it is really normal. It is dif cult to describe
the nature of the tric , but it will be uite ob ious to anyone
who has done practices (a) and (b) for a day or two. They
become uite easy, and he will thin that he is ma ing
progress, an illusion which close analysis will dispel.
13. Ha ing begun to train his brain in this manner, and
obtained some little success, let the E empt Adept, seated in
his Asana, thin rst of his present attitude, ne t of the act of
being seated, ne t of his entering the room, ne t of his robing,
et cetera, e actly as it happened. And let him most strenu-
ously endea our to thin each act as happening bac wards.
It is not enough to thin : “ I am seated here, and before that
I was standing, and before that I entered the room," etc,
That series is the tric detected in the preliminary practices.
110
 LIBER J'lNW'n
The series must not run “ ghi-def—abc,” but “ ihgfedcba”: not
“horse a is this " but " esroh a si siht.” Το obtain this
thoroughly well, practice ( ) is ery useful. The brain will be
found to struggle constantly to right itself, soon accustoming
itself to accept “ esroh ” as merely another glyph for ”horse.”
This tendency must be constantly combated.
14. In the early stages of this practice the endea our
should be to meticulous minuteness of detail in remembering
actions; for the brain’s habit of thin ing forwards will at rst
be insuperable. Thin ing of large and comple actions, then,
will gi e a series which we may symbolically write “ op rstu-
hi lmn-abcdefg." If these be split into detail, we shall ha e
“ stu—p r—o—mn- l—hi —fg—cde—ab,” which is much nearer
to the ideal “ utsr ponml ihgfedcba.”
15. Capacities differ widely, but the E empt Adept need
ha e no reason to be discouraged if after a month‘s continuous
labour he nd that now and again for a few seconds his brain
really wor s bac wards.
16. The E empt Adept should concentrate his efforts upon
obtaining a perfect picture of e minutes bac wards rather
than upon e tending the time co ered by his meditation.
For this preliminary training of the brain is the Pons
Asinorum of the whole process.
17. This e minutes’ e ercise being satisfactory, the
E empt Adept may e tend the same at his discretion to co er
an hour, a day, a wee , and so on. Dif culties anish before
him as he ad ances; the e tension from a day to the course
of his whole life will not pro e so dif cult as the perfecting of
the e minutes
r8. This practice should be repeated at least four times
I
 THE EQUINOX
daily, and progress is shown rstly by the e er easier running
of the brain, secondly by the added memories which arise.
19, It is useful to re ect during this practice, which in
time becomes almost mechanical, upon the way in which
effects spring from causes. This aids the mind to lin its
memories, and prepares the adept for the preliminary practice
of the Second Method.
20. Ha ing allowed the mind to return for some hun-
dred times to the hour of birth, it should be encouraged to
endea our to penetrate beyond that period. If it be properly
trained to run bac wards, there will be little dif culty in
doing this, although it is one of the distinct steps in the
practice,
21, It may be then that the memory will persuade the
adept of some pre ious e istence. Where this is possible, let
it be chec ed by an appeal to facts, as follows
22 It often occurs to men that on isiting a place to
which they ha e ne er been, it appears familiar. This may
arise from a confusion of thought or a slipping of the memory,
but it is concei ably a fact.
If, then, the adept " remember " that he was in a pre ious
life in some city, say Cracow, which he has in this life ne er
isited, let him describe from memory the appearance of
Cracow, and of its inhabitants, setting down their names,
Let him further enter into details of the city and its customs.
And ha ing done this with great minuteness, let him con rm
the same by consultation with historians and geographers, or
by a personal isit, remembering (both to the credit of his
memory and its discredit) that historians, geographers, and
himself are ali e fallible. But let him not trust his memory
112
 LIBER romam
to assert its conclusions as fact, and act thereupon, without
most ade uate con rmation.
23. This process of chec ing his memory should be
practised with the earlier memories of childhood and youth
by reference to the memories and records of others, always
re ecting upon the fallibility e en of such safeguards.
24. All this being perfected, so that the memory reaches
bac into aeons incalculably distant, let the E empt Adept
meditate upon the fruitlessness of all those years, and upon
the fruit thereof, se ering that which is transitory and worth—
less from that which is eternal. And it may be that he being
but an E empt Adept may hold all to be sa ourless and full
of sorrow.
25. This being so, without reluctance will he swear the
Oath ofthe Abyss,
26. Second Methodi Let the E empt Adept, forti ed by
the practice of the First Method, enter the preliminary
practice of the Second Method.
27. Second Method. Preliminary Practices. Let him,
seated in his Asana, consider any e ent, and trace it to its
immediate causes. And let this be done ery fully and
minutely. Here, for e ample, is a body erect and motionless.
Let the adept consider the many forces which maintain it;
rstly, the attraction of the earth, of the sun, of the planets,
of the farthest stars, nay, of e ery mote of dust in the room,
one of which (could it be annihilated) would cause that body
to mo e, although so imperceptibly. Also, the resistance of
the oor, the pressure of the air, and all other e ternal
conditions. Secondly, the internal forces which sustain it,
the ast and comple machinery of the s eleton, the muscles,
VII H 113
 THE EQUINOX
the blood, the lymph, the marrow, all that ma es up a man.
Thirdly, the moral and intellectual forces in ol ed, the mind,
the will, the consciousness. Let him continue this with
unremitting ardour, searching Nature, lea ing nothing out.
28 Ne t let him ta e one of the immediate causes of his
position, and trace out its e uilibrium. For e ample, the
will. What determines the will to aid in holding the body
erect and motionless?
29, This being determined, let him choose one of the
forces which determined his will, and trace out that in similar
fashion; and let this process be continued for many days
until the interdependence of allthings is a truth assimilated in
his inmost being.
30, This being accomplished, let him trace his own history
with special reference to the causes of each e ent. And in
this practice he may neglect to some e tent the uni ersal
forces which at all times act on all, as for e ample the attrac—
tion of masses, and let him concentrate his attention upon the
principal and determining or effecti e causes.
For instance, he is seated, perhaps, in a country place in
Spain. Why? Because Spain is warm and suitable for medita-
tion, and because cities are noisy and crowded. Why is Spain
warm? and why does he wish to meditate? Why choose
warm Spain rather than warm India? To the last uestion:
Because Spain is nearer to his home. Then why is his home
near Spain? Because his parents were Germans. And why
did they go to Germany? And so during the whole meditation.
31, On another day, let him begin with a uestion of
another ind, and e ery day de ise new uestions, not only
concerning his present situation, but also abstract uestions.
114
 LIBER ‫ אשית‬:?
Thus let him connect the pre alence 01 water upon the surface
of the globe with its necessity to such life as we now, with
the speci c gra ity and other physical properties of water, and
let him percei e ultimately through all this the necessity and
concord of things, not concord as the schoolmen 01 old belie ed,
ma ing all things for man’s bene t or con enience, but the
essential mechanical concord whose nal law is inertia. And
in these meditations let him a oid as if it were the plague any
speculation sentimental or fantastic
32. Second Method. The Practice Proper. Ha ing then
perfected in his mind these conceptions, let him apply them to
his own career, forging the lin s of memory into the chain of
necessity.
And let this be his nal uestion : Το what purpose am I
tted? Of what ser ice can my being pro e to the Brothers
of the A A if I cross the Abyss, and am admitted to the
City 01 the Pyramids ?
33. Now that he may clearly understand the nature of this
uestion, and the method of solution, let him study the
reasoning of the anatomist who reconstructs an animal from
a single bone To ta e a simple e ample.
34‘ Suppose, ha ing li ed all my life among sa ages, a
ship is cast upon the shore and wrec edi Undamaged among
the cargo is a “ Victoria." What is its use? The wheels
spea 01 roads, their slimness of smooth roads, the bra e of
hilly roads. The shafts show that it was meant to be drawn
by an animal, their height and length suggest an animal 01 the
size of a horse. That the carriage is open suggests a climate
tolerable at any rate for part of the year. The height of the
bo suggests crowded streets, or the spirited character of the
115
 THE EQUINOX
animal employed to draw it. The cushions indicate its use to
con ey men rather than merchandise; its hood that rain
sometimes falls, or that the sun is at times powerful. The
springs would imply considerable s ill in metals ; the arnish
much attainment in that craft
35. Similarly, let the adept consider of his own case. Now
that he is on the point of plunging into the Abyss, a giant
Why? confronts him with uplifted club.
36, There is no minutest atom 01 his composition which
can be withdrawn without ma ing him some other than he is,
no useless moment in his past Then what is his future?
The “ Victoria” is not a waggon; it is not intended for
carting hay. It is not a sul y; it is useless in trotting races
37. So the adept has military genius, or much nowledge
of Gree : how do these attainments help his purpose, or the
purpose of the Brothers? He was put to death by Cal in, or
stoned by Heze iah as a sna e he was illed by a illager, or
;

as an elephant slain in battle under Hamilcar. How do such

memories help him ? Until he ha e thoroughly mastered the
reason for e ery incident in his past, and found a purpose for
e ery item Of his present e uipment,1 he cannot truly answer
e en those Three Questions that were rst put to him, e en
the Three Questions of the Ritual of the Pyramid he is not ;

ready to swear the Oath of the Abyss.

38. But being thus enlightened, let him swear the Oath of
the Abyss yea, let him swear the Oath 01 the Abyss
;

1 A Brother nown to me was repeatedly baf ed in this meditation But one

day being thrown with his horse o er a sheer cliff of forty feet, and escaping
without a scratch or a bruise, he was reminded ofhis many narrow escapes from
death. These pro ed to he the last factors in his problem, which, thus
completed, sol ed itself in a moment, 0. M.
116
 ADONIS
AN ALLEGORY
BY

ALEISTER CROWLEY

124!/” !!! ta Adam's.?

117
 PERSONS OF THE ALLEGORY
THE KING OF BABYLON, tributary to the King of Greece
HERMES, a Gree ”11512562/ ?
THE LADY PSYCHE
THE COUNT ADONIS, at rst nown as the Lam! Esarhaddon
THE LADY ASTARTE
The Wart/tar: of the K ”; of Babylon
HANUMAN, Ser ant to Hermes
CHARIS,
ELPIS, Attendant: an Psyche
PISTIS,
T!”22 Aged Women
Handmaidens and Sla e.r of Aslarte
 ADONIS
ACT I
SCENEI: The hanging gardens af Ba y/an. R., the Hause
of the Lady Astarte ; L., a gateway; C., a hraad
lawn enriched with clustered lowers ana’ sen/;Stnres.
The 52222 is mgn his setting. On a wuth under the
wait of the city regias-es the Lare! Esarhaddan, fanned
by two sla es, a negro boy and a fair Kahyle girl, clad
in yellow and blue, the boy’s robes being co ered with
a eil of sil er, the girl’s with a eil afgola’.
They are singing ta him m ly :
THE BOY. All crimson— eined is Tigris’ ood;
The sun has stained his mouth with blood
THE GIRL. Orange and green his standards sweep.
THE BOY. His minions een.
THE GIRL. His maidens weep.
THE BOY. But thou, Lord, thou! The hour is nigh
When from the prow of lu ury
Shall step the death of all men’s hearts,
She whose li e breath, a daggers darts,
A Viper’s ice, an adder’s grip,
A coc atrice ’twi t lip and lip,
She whose blac eyes are suns to shower
I 19
 THE EQUINOX
Lo e’s litanies from hour to hour,
Whose limbs are scythes li e Death’s, of whom
The body writhes, a lotus-bloom
Swayed by the wind of lo e, a crime
Too sweetly sinned, the ueen of time,
The lady of hea en, to whom the stars,
Se en by se en, from their bars
Lean and do worship—e en she
Who hath gi en all her sweet self to thee,
The Lady Astartel
THE GIRL. Peace, Ο peace!
A swan, she sails through ecstasies
Of air and marble and owers, she sways
As the full moon through midnight’s haze
Of gauze—her body is li e a do e
And a sna e, and life, and death, and le el
THE Bo l E en as the twilight so is she,
Half seen, half subtly apprehended,
Ethereally and bodily.
The soul incarnate, the body transcendedl
THE GIRL. Aching, aching passionately,
Insufferably, utterly splendid
!

THE BOY. Her lips ma e pale the setting sun

!

THE GIRL. Her body blac ens Babylon !

THE BOY. Her eyes turn midnight’s mur to grey !

THE GIRL. Her breasts ma e midnight of the day!

THE BOY. About her, sua e and subtle, swims
The mus and madness of her limbs!
THE GIRL. Her mouth is magic li e the moon's.
THE BOY. Her breath is bliss
!

120
 ADONIS
THE GIRL. Her steps are swoons!
[ENTER ASTARTE, with her/We hmza’lhaidehs.
THE BOY. Away, awayl
THE GIRL With heart’s accord,
Το lea e his lady to our 10rd [They go out.
THE BOY. Let him forget our ser ice done
Of palm—lea es wa ed, that ne er tires,
In his enchanted Babylon
Of in nite desires!
[ASTARTE neels at [he foot of [he couch, mm’ ta ing
thefeet of Esa /htm’a’oh in her hamis, 6071875 them with
isses.
ASTARTE. Nay, ne er wa e! unless to catch my nec
And brea me up with isses—ne er sleep,
Unless to dream new pains impossible
Το wa ing!
Girls with more than dream’s address,
Wa e him with perfume till he smile, with stro es
Softer than moonbeams till he turn, and sigh,
With e slow drops of wine between his lips
Until his heart hea e, with young thrills of song
Until his eyelids open, and the rst
And fairest of ye greet him li e a ower,
So that awa ened he may brea from you
And turn to me who am all these in one.

IST MAIDEN. Here is the wealth

Of all amber and mus ,
Secreted by stealth
In the domes of the dus !

121
 THE EQUINOX
2ND MAIDEN. Here the caress
Of a chee -—let it stir
The rst liens of liesse
Not to me—but to herI

3RD MAIDEN. Here the uintessence

Of dream and delight,
E o ing the presence
Of sa our to sight!

4TH MAIDENi List to the trill

And the ripple and roll
Of a tune that may thrill
Thee through sense to the soul !

5TH MAIDEN. Loo on the fairest,

The masterless maid l
Ere thine eye thou unbarest,
I ic er, I fade,

ALL.Wa e! as her garland is tossed in the air

When the nymph meets Apollo, our forehead is bare,
We di ide, we disperse, we dislimn, we disse er,
For we are but now, and our lady for e er!
[They go .
ESARHADDON. I dreamed of thee!
Dreams beyond form and name I
It was a chain of ages, and a ash
Of lightning—which thou wilt—since—Oh I see
Nothing, feel nothing, and am nothing—ash
Of the uni erse burnt through l

122
 ADONIS
ASTARTE. And I the ame!
ESARHADDON. Wreathing and roaring for an ageless aeon,
Wrapping the world, spurning the empyrean,
Drowning with dar despotic imminence
All life and light, annihilating sense—
I ha e been sealed and silent in the womb
Of nothingness to burst, a babe’s bold bloom,
Into the upper aethyr of thine eyes.
Oh I one gra e glance en indles Paradise,
One spar le sets me on the throne abo e,
Mine orb the world‘
ASTARTE. Nay, stir not yet Let lo e
Breathe li e the zephyr on the unmo ed deep,
Sigh to awa ening from its rosy sleep;
Let the stars fade, and all the east grow grey
And tender, ere the rst faint rose of day
Flush it. Awhile! Awhile! There's crimson bars
Enough to blot the noblest of the stars,
And bow for adoration ere the rim
Start li e God‘s spear to ware the world of Him I

Softly!
ESARHADDON. But iss me!
ASTARTE With an eyelash rst!
ESARHADDON. Treasure and torture!
ASTARTE. Tantalising thirst
Ma es the draught more delicious. Hea en were worth
Little without the purgatory, earth
ESARHADDON. You ma e earth hea en.
ASTARTE. And hea en helll To choose thee
Is to interpret misery “ Το lose thee."
123
 THE EQUINOX
ESARHADDON. Ayl death end all if it must end thy
iss!
ASTARTE. And death be all if it con rm life’s bliss !

ESARHADDON. And death come soon if death ll life’s

endea our!
ASTARTE. And if it spill life’s intage, death come ne er!
ESARHADDON. The sun sets. Bathe me in the rain of
gold!
ASTARTE. These pearls that dec ed it shimmering star-cold
Fall, and my hair falls, wreathes an aureole.
E en as thy lo e encompasses my soul !

ESARHADDON. I am blinded; I am bruised; I am stung.

Each thread
Hisses.
ASTARTE. There’s life there for a thousand dead !

ESARHADDON. And death there for a million!

ASTARTE. E en so.
Life, death, new life, a web spun soft and slow
By lo e, the spider, in these palaces
That ta eth hold.
ESARHADDON, Ta e hold I
ASTARTE. Keen oyaunees
Mi with the multitudinous murmurings,
And all the isses sharpen into stings.
Nay! shall my mouth ta e hold? Beware! Once fain,
How shall it e er lea e thy mouth again ?
ESARHADDON. Why should it?
ASTARTE. Is not sleep our master yet?
ESARHADDON. Why must we thin when wisdom would
forget?
124
 ADONIS
ASTARTE. Lest we in turn forget to ll the hour.
ESARHADDON. The pensi e bee lea es honey in the ower.
ASTARTE. Now the sun's rim is dipped. And thus I dip
My gold to the horizon of thy lip.
ESARHADDON. Ah! . . .

ASTARTE. There’s no li uor, none, within the cup.

ESARHADDON. Nay, draw not bac ; nay, then, but lift
me up.
I would the cup were molten too ; I’d drain
Its blasting agony.
ASTARTE. In ain.
ESARHADDON. In ain?
Nay, let the drin er and the draught in one
Blaze up at last, and burn down Babylon!
ASTARTE. All but the garden, and our bed, and—see!
The false full moon that comes to riVal me.
ESARHADDON. She comes to lamp our lo e.
[A chime of (Be/ls without.
ASTARTE, I’ll tire my hair.
The ban uet waits. Girls, follow me.
[They go aut, lea ing ESARHADDON.
ESARHADDON. How fair
And full she sweeps, the buoyant barge upon
The gilded cur es of Tigris. She's the swan
That drew the gods to gaze, the fawn that called
Their passion to his glades of emerald,
The maid that maddened Mithras, the uic ui er
Of reeds that drew Oannes from the ri er! . . .
She is gone. The garden is a wilderness.
Oh for the ban uet of the lioness,
125
 THE EQUINOX
The rich astounding wines, the indling meats,
The music and the dancers! Fiery seats
Of empire of the archangels, let your wings
Ramp through the empyrean l Lords and Kings
Of the Gods, descend and ser e us, as we spurn
And trample life, ll death’s sardony urn
With lo es immortal —how shall I endure
This moment’s patience? Ah, she comes, be sure!
Her foot its on the marble. . . . Open, gate!
[The gale, not of the house hm‘ of lhe garden, opens.
The Lady Psyehe α απ. She is clothed in α’
þurþ/e, as mourning, and her hair is hound with
ez fii/ef of cypress and ammo. She is attended by
three maidens and l'ha/ee aged women.
What tedious guest arri es?
PSYCHE. White hour of fate!
I ha e found him !

ESARI—IADDON. Who is this? . . . Fair lady, pardon.

You see the mistress of the garden?
PYSCHB. I thought I had found the lord I see .
Your pardon, lord. These eyes are weary and wea
With tears and my ain search.
ESARHADDON. Whom see you then?
PSYCHE. My husband— my sole miracle of men,
The Count Adonis.
[ESARHADDON staggers !”!!!/!1115 on the eoneh.
PSYCHE. You now of him?
ESARHADDON. No.
I cannot tell what struc me so.
I ne er heard the name.
126
 ADONIS
PYSCI-IE. Indeed, your eyes
Are li er his than wedded dragon- ies
!

Your brows are his, your mouth is his—-

Yet all’s awry
!

ESARHADDON. May be it is!

PYSCHE. Oh, pardon. Mine is but a mad girl’s glance.
Adonis is this soul’s inheritance
All else is madness.
ESARHADDON. Mad Mad Mad Mad! Mad
! ! ! !

Why say you this? Who are you ? Sad? Glad?

Bad !

Bad! Bad! Spea , spea ! Blea pea of mystery?

Wea chee of modesty?
PSYCHE. Oh, pardon me!
I did not mean to mo e you thus.
ESARHADDON. I am stirred
Too easily. You used a shameful word!
PSYCHB. Accept my sorrow I am all alone
In this blac night. My heart is stone,
My limbs are lead, mine eyes accurst,
My throat a hell of thirst. . . .
My husband; they suppose him dead. . , .

They made me wear these weeds. Could I

In my heart credit half they said,
Not these funereal robes should wrap me round,
But the white cerements of a corpse, and high
Upon a pyre of sandal and ebony,
Should dare through ame the ine uitable profound1

But only these of all mine household come

In faith and hope and lo e so far from home,
127
 THE EQUINOX
And these three others oined me—why, who nows?
But thou, lord, in whose face his li eness shows—
At the rst glance—for now, i' faith, 'tis gone ‫י‬1?
Hast thou dwelt alway here in. Babylon?
ESARHADDON. Now must I laugh—forgi e me in your
sorrow
My life's not yesterday and not to-morrow,
I li e; I now no more.
Ps c —IE. How so?
ESARHADDON, I fear
I now but this, that I’m a stranger here.
They call me the Lord Esarhaddon-name
Borrowed or guessed, cannot tell
1
I came
Whence I now notisome malady
Destroyed my memory,
PSYCHEI Oh, were you he! But yet I see you are not.
Had you no to ens from the life forgot?
ESARHADDON. Nay, I came na ed into Babylon,
I li e the starlight and sleep through the sun.
I am happy in lo e, I am rich, I eat and drin ,
I gather goods, I laugh, I ne er thin
Know me the prince of perfect pleasure
!

‫י‬5161113?? Yet
Is there not something that you would forget ?
Some fear that chills you ? While you tal to me
I see you glance behind you fearfully,
ESARHADDON (wz hfwti efeaa/ amounting to horror),
You see the Shadow?
PSYCHE. No: slim shadows stretch
From yonder moon, and woo the world, and etch
128
 ADONIS
With their fantastic melancholy grotes ues
The earth—man’s destiny in arabes ues.
ESARHADDON. You are blind! You are mad See where
he stands I

It is the King of Babylon,

Ree ing daggers in his hands—
And blac blood oozes, oozes, throbs and dips
From his eyes and nostrils to his lips
That he suc s, gnashing his fangs. Upon
His head is a crown of s ulls, and mon eys mew
And gibber and mop about him. S ew! Spew! Ugh!
Hu Mow! Mow! Mow! they go—cannot you
!

hear them ?
What? ha e you courage to go near them ?
PSYCHE. Nothing is there.
ESARHADDON, Oh, but he has the head
Of a boar, the blac boar Night! All dead, dead,
dead,
The eyes of girls that once were beautiful
Hang round his nec . Whac Crac ! he slaps a s ull
1

For a drum—Smac ! Flac ! Thwac ! Bac , I'll not

attac .
Quac !
Quac ! there’s duc s and de ils on his bac .
Keep him away. You want a man, you say?
Well, there’s a ing for you to—day.
Go, iss him I Slobber o er him! His ribs
Should be readily tic led. Wah! Wah! Wah she ibs,
!

Ugh! there he came too close. I’ll bite the dust;

I’ll lic the slime ο Babylon Great lust,
Great god, great de il, gra-gra-gra-gra! Spare me!
VII I 129
 THE EQUINOX
Ta e this wench, though she were the womb that
bare me!
See! Did I tell you, he’s the King, the King,
The King of Terrors. See me gro elling!
Yah !
Hal
PSYCHE. There’s nothing there. Are you a man
Το craze at naught?
ESARHADDON. Immitigable ban1

Immitigable, pitiful, profound—

Ban, can, fan, ran, and pan is underground,
Round, bound, sound—Oh ha e pity! . . .
Who art thou
Whose coming thus unmans me? Not till now
Saw I, or felt I, or heard I, the King
So mumbling near; blac blood’s on e erything.
Boo! Scowl Be off! Out! Vanish! Fly! Begone !

Out! Off! Out! Off! I’m King of Babylon.

Oh no Thy pardon. Spare me! 'Tis as a Slip
1

0’ th’ lip. Now ip rip bawdy harlot, s ip!

! 1

[He f/lreafem her. She 2 !/‫ ?!ש ש‬but hold: her ground.
Strip, yes, I'll strip you na ed, strip your esh
In strips with my lips, gnaw your bones li e a dog.
Off, sow! Off, grumpet Strumpet! Scum—pit Flails
1 1

to thresh
Your body! Clubs to mash your face in! Kni es
Το cut away your cat’s nine li es!
ASTARTE. (Entering hastily.) What’s this? Who are
you? What right ha e you to come
And ma e this ha oc in the home?
Can you not see what wrec your tempest ma es?
I30
 ADONIS
Begone! I ha e a ery ight of sna es
To lash you hence!
PSYCHE. It may be mines the right.
It may be you are nothing in my sight,
It may be I ha e found my 10rd at last;
And you—his concubine? May be out-cast.
ASTAR‘I‘E. This is the sure thing, that I chase thee. Sla es!
Hither your whips! that are more blac with blood
Of such as this thing than your s ins with isses
Of your sun’s frenzy. [The Sla e: Hm ”!?.
PSYCHE. Thou ain woman Now!

I now him, lost, wrec ed, mad, but mine, but mine,
Indissolubly dowered with me, my husband,
The Count Adonis!
ESARHADDON. Ah !

[Ha z/ls, “! into the [mm of ASTARTE.

ASTARTE. Ho! guard 115 now
And lash this thing from the garden
[The slawsform in line 66/71/9872 PSYCHE and the others.
PSYCHE. Adonis !

ESARHADDON. Ah !

Astarte, there’s some sorcery abroad.

ASTARTE. The spell is bro en, dear my lord.
There is a wall of ebony and steel
About us.
ESARHADDON. What then do I feel
When that name sounds?
ASTARTE. A tric of mind.
Things bro en up and left behind
Keep roots to plague us when we least e pect them.
131
 THE EQUINOX
The wise—and thou art wise—let naught affect them.
Let us to feast!
ESARHADDON. Ah no! I tremble still,
Despite my reason and despite my will.
Let me lie with thee here awhile, and dream
Upon thine eyes beneath the moon,
Whose slanted beam
Lights up thy face, that sends its swoon
Of languor and hunger through
The in nite space that se ers two
So long as they cannot rise abo e
Into the unity of lo e,
Howe er close loc hands and feet,
Only one moment may they meet;
When in the one pang that runs le el
With death and birth, the royal re el,
The lo er and the lo ed adore
The thing that is, when they are not.
ASTARTE. No morel
Bury thy face between these hills that threat
The hea en, their rosy spears (the gods that fret)
Tipping thine ears, and with my hair I’ll hide thee;
And these mine handmaidens shall stand beside thee,
And mi their nightingale with lion
Of the guard that chorus and clash iron,
While as a ri er laps its ban s
My ngertips caress thy an s!
(Chm/m.)
MEN. Under the sun there is none, there is none
That hath heard such a word as our lord hath begun.
132
 ADONIS
WOMEN. Under the moon such a tune, such a tune
As his thought hath half caught in this hea en of June.
MEN. Ne er hath night such a light, such a rite!
WOMEN. Ne er had day such a ray, such a sway!
MEN. Ne er had man, since began the earth’s plan,
Such a bliss, such a iss, such a woman as this!
WOMEN. Ne er had maid since God bade be arrayed
Earth’s bowers with his owers, such a man to her
powers I
MEN. Mi in the measure,
Blac grape and White cherry!
A passion, a pleasure,
A torment, a treasure,
You to be mournful and we to be merry !

WOMEN. We shall be solemn

And gra e and alluring,
You be the column
Upstanding, enduring.
We be the i y and ine
Το entwine—
My mouth on your mouth, and your mouth on
mine!
MEN. Burnish our blades
With your eils,
Merry maids !

WOMEN. Se er their cords

With the scales
Of your swords !
MEN. As a whirlwind that lic s up a leaf
Let us bear
33
 THE EQUINOX
You, an aureate sheaf
Adrift in the airl
WOMEN. As a butter y ho ers and flits,
Let us glide
Το bewilder your wits
Bewitched by a bride !

MEN. Now, as the stars shall

Encircle the moon,
Our ran s let us marshal
In time and in tune!
WOMEN. Leading our lady and lord
To the feast,
Ere the night be abroad,
The blac rose of the east!
MEN AND WOMEN. Arise arise! the feast is spread,
l

The wine is poured ; the singers wait

Eager to lure and lull ; the dancers tread
Impatient to in o e the lords of Fate.
Arise, arise the feast delayed delays
!

The radiant raptures that must crown its ways.

ASTARTE. Come now. Ah! still the pallor clings?
Wine will redeem the roses. Stretch the strings
Of thy slac heart! Still trembling? Lean on me!
This shoulder could hold up eternity.
[They gofort ; to the 1511149212

134
 ADONIS

SCENE u. THE HALL OF THE PALACE OF ASTARTE. Ony ,

atgibai-ter, þarþhyi/y (md inaltat/iita are their/[1175; and
the oor of mosaic. [h the high sent is ASTARTE, on her
right HERMES, :: Gree þhysician. He is a slight, old
man, with ier/5mg eyes and e ery mar of agili/y mili
igam/. His dress is that fa Baby/Wish 51612171/ ”??

HERMES. And now, polite preliminaries past,

Tell me, dear lady, what the little trouble is!
ASTARTE. It was uite sudden.
HERMES. Good; not li e to last.
It bursts, such malady a brittle bubble is!
HOW is the pulse? Allow me!
ASTARTE. Not for me
Your s ill. My husband’s lost his memory.
HERMES. Yet he remembers you?
ASTARTE. O uite, of course !
HERMES, Let it alone! Don’t og the willing horse!
Where I to cure him by my magic spells,
The odds are he'd remember someone else !

ASTARTE. Ah, but—a month ago—a woman came—

HERMES. Cool—warm—hot—now we’re getting near the
(lamel
ASTARTE. And what she said or did who nows?
HERMES. These men!
AsrARTE. Yes! But he’s ne er been the same since then 1

I' e ta en endless trouble not to fret him,

Done e erything I could to please and pet him,
And now this wretched woman has upset him !

l35
 THE EQUINOX
HERMES, Was he distressed much at the time?
ASTARTE. Distressed ?
Mad as an elephant in spring!
HERMES. I guessed
It. Thin he too a fancy to the girl?
ASTARTE. Well, honestly, I don’t. My minds a whirl
With worry. She’s a imsy creature, rags
Of sentiment, and tears, and worn—out tags
Of wisdom.
HERMES. Yes, you’ e nothing much to fear
While you appear as . . . what you do appear.
ASTARTE. Well, there they stood, crying li e butchered
swine,
She and her maids. It seems she’s lost her man,
Can’t get another, wanted to claim mine.
I put a stopper on the pretty plan.
But e er since—well, I can’t say what’s wrong,
But something-s, wrong.
HERMES. Yes; yes. Now is it long?
ASTARTE. About a month.
HERMES. What physio ha e you tried?
ASTARTE. The usual things ; young ipers s inned and
dried
And chopped with rose-lea es; cow’s hoof stewed in
dung,
One pilule four times daily, on the tongue;
Lar ’s brains in urine after e ery meal,
With ust a touch of salt and orange—peel.
HERMES. And yet he is no better?
ASTARTE. Not a whit.
136
 ADONIS
Oh yes, though, now I come to thin of it,
Snails pounded up and ta en after food
Did seem to do some temporary good.
Of course we ept him on a doubled diet.
HERMES. Ha e you tried change of air, and rest, and
uiet ?
ASTARTE. No; what a strange ideal
HERMES. As strange as new.
Yet there seems somehow something in it too!
Still, here’s where silence is worth se en speeches—
I might get strangled by my' brother leeches,
Now, are you sure you want him cured?
ASTARTE. Why, yes,
Why should I call you in?
HERMES. But none the less
It might be aw ward his remembering more
ASTARTE. I simply want him as he was before.
HERMES. And if it should turn out, as I suspect,
He was this woman's husband.
ASTARTE. Then select
A—you now—something suitable—to put her
Where she won‘t worry me, or want a suitor.
HERMES. I understand you; but I’m old ; your beauty
Might fail to ma e me careless of my duty.
ASTARTE. I’ll ta e the ris .
HERMES. Then let me see the ictim;
If bound, we’ll loosen him; if loose, constrict him.
There, madam, in one phrase from heart to heart,
Lies the whole mystery of the healer’s art!
Where is the pathic?
37
 THE EQUINOX
ASTARTE. Hush! in Babylon
We say “ the patient.”
HERMES. Yes?
ASTARTE It’s often one.
For Babylonish is so uaint a tongue
One often goes too right by going wrong!
I’ll call him from the garden. [Goes out,
HERMES (alone), Is there need
To see the man? He's simply off his feed.
A child could see the way to ma e him hearty:
More e ercise, less food —and less Astarte !

[Enter ESARHADDON.
I greet your lordship.
ESARHADDON. Greeting, sir !

HERMES. And so
We’re not as healthy as a month ago?
The pulse? Allow me! Ahl Tut! Tut! Not bad,
The tongue? Than s Kindly tell me what you had
For dinner.
ESARHADDON. Nothing: practically nothing.
I seem to loo on food with utter loathing.
HERMES. Just so; but you contri ed to pec a bit.
ESARHADDON. Only a dozen uails upon the spit,
A little sturgeon coo ed with oysters, wine,
Mushrooms and cray sh. . .
HERMES. That is not to dine.
ESARHADDON. Well, after that I toyed with pheasant
pasty,
Sliced—you now how—with pineapple.
HERMES. Eat hasty?
138
 ADONIS
ESARHADDON. No, not at all Well, then a suc ing-pig
Stuffed with grape, Oli e, cucumber, peach, gy
And lemon. Then I tri ed with a curry—
HERMES. You’re sure you didn’t eat it in a hurry?
ESARHADDON. Quite sure. The curry was simplicity
Itself— plain prawns. Then there was —— let me
see !—
A dish of fruit, then a id roasted whole,
Some enison fried with goose—li er, a roll
Of ery tender spicy well-coo ed eal
Done up with honey, oli e oil, and meal,
Some sweets, but only three or four, and those
I hardly touched,
HERMES. But why now ?
ESARHADDON. I suppose
I wasn’t hungry
HERMES. Diagnosis right;

A simple case of loss of appetite!

Surely they tempted you with something else.
ESARHADDON. A few li e lobsters broiled within their
shells.
I ate two only.
HERMES. That e plains the tongue.
Now let me listen 1

Sound in heart and lung.

(And I should thin 50 ) ’Twas a sage that sung:
“ Whom the Gods lo e, lo e lobsters; they die
young."
And a yet greater sage sublimely said:
" Loo not upon the lobster when it’s red "l

39
 TH Ε EQUINOX
ESARHADDON. A Babylonish bard has said the same
Of wine.
HERMES, Ah, wine now? Out with it! Die game!
ESARHADDON. By n and tail of great Oannes, I
Am the mere model of sobriety.
HERMES. What did you drin for dinner?
ESARHADDON. Scarce a drop
At any time—four agons, there I stop.
With ust a as of barley-wine to top.
HERMES. Just so becomes a nobleman of sense
Whose moderation errs toward abstinence.
ESARHADDON. Abstinence! That‘s the word I couldn’t
thin of
I'm an abstainer. E erything I drin of
Is consecrated by a melancholic
Priest.
HERMES. Which pre ents it being alcoholicl
ESARHADDON. Sir, you appear to understand my case
As no one else has done. Appalling face
These uac s ha e that crowd Babylon. Your
fee ?
Though none can pay the ser ice done to me.
HERMES. One moment. What about your memory?
Well, ne er mind, ust follow my ad ice;
That will come bac before you say “ nife ” twice.
First, re your sla es, the rogues that thie e and
laze :

A sla e‘s worse than two masters now-a—days.

Ne t, li e on nothing but boiled beans and tripe,
With once a wee a melon—when they’re ripe.
I40
 ADONIS
Ne t, send the Lady Astarte up the ri er;
She loo s to me to ha e a touch of li er.
And you must teach your muscles how to harden,
So stay at home, and labour in the garden !

ESARHADDON. You damned insulting blae guardl Char-

latan I
Quac I
Tric ster! Scoundrel Cheating medicine—
l

man l

You ordure—tasting pri y-snif ng rogue,

You thin because your humbug is the ogue
You can beard me ?
HERMES, I’ll tell you ust one thing.
Disobey me, and—trouble with the King!
ESARHADDON. Ring-a—ling-ting I
Ping Spring
! !

HERMES. That’s coo ed his goose.

I’lltell Astarte, though it’s not much use. [He goes aut.
It's only one more of life's little curses—
The best of women ma e the worst of nurses !

141
 THE EQUINOX

SCENE . THE CONSULTING-ROOM OF HERMES. [1 has [700

parts, the rst lled with stu ed crocodiles, sna es,
astrolabes, sleeletons, lainz s of strange shaþe, ast rolls of
‘z apyri, ases containing such ob ects as a foetus, a
mummied child, a si —legged sheet. Hands (ob iously
those of criminals) ha e been [tainted with phos horus,
and gi e light. Seulftures 0 winged bulls and bric s
inscribed with arrow—head characters are ranged about
the walls. A chain of eleibhant’s bones co ered with its
hide contains the doctor, 7000 is dressed as before in a long
01060 7006 co ered with mysterious characters. On his
head is a high conical caþ of 01060 57/0 dotted with gold
stars In his right hand is 0 wand of human teeth strung
together, in his left 0 “ 0000 " of s uare faba-lea es bound
in sil er. At the 0060 0 the room is 0 bloc/ curtain 6070-
letely eiling its second portion. This curtain is co ered
with cam/istic characters and terrif /ing images in white.
[Enter the ser ant of HERMES, a negro uglier than an
ape. He is immensely long and lean; his body
hangs forward, so that his arms 0607/1” touch the
ground He is clad in a tightly tting suit of
scarlet, and wears a scarlet s ull-cap. He 070065
deeg obeisante‘
HERMES Spea , Hanuman!
HANUMAN. A lady.
[HERMES nods gra ely E it HANUMAN.
HERMES. Abaoth I

Abra as! Furl Furl Aeou! Thoth!

[Enter the LADY PSYCHE with one attendant.
142
 ADONIS
Eel 001 Uu! Iao Sabaoth!
Dogs of Hell
Mumble spell !
Up! Up! Up!
Sup! Sup! Sup!
Ul Aoth 1

Abaothl
Abraoth 1

Sabaoth!
Li id, loath,
Obey the oath !

Ah !
[He Shuts the hee/ with a snap.
You ha e come to me because you are crossed
In lo e.
PSVCHE. Most true, sir!
HERMES. Ah you're Gree !
!

PSYCHE‘ As you yourself, sit,

HERMES. Then I’ e lost
My pains. 1 need not fear to spea .
I too you for 3 fool. Ηο! eil, di ide!
[HANUMAN ap ears and lays 015 hand on a cont,
Things are much pleasanter the other side.
[Τhe [lectur 1070705 ofr hi5 6/0110 ana’ mþ, his straggling
white hair and long ointed heard, aþþearihg a: a
youth ei;/esse:! fashionably; at the 5011716 time the
111710171 pulled 00110 Show: a 70010 furnished with
the lu ury of a man of won/(l, A low halcony
of marble at the oath gi es 11 iew of the city, and
of the Tigris winding far into the distance, where
1/1111 blue mountains 71771 the horizon

43
 THE EQUINOX
[The doctor conduci: his dient to a lounge, where they
sit.
HERMES. Bring the old Chian, Hanuman!
[The negro goes to obey.
This o e
Is the accepted way of scaring fol ;
And if they‘re scared, they may nd con dence
Which is half cure Most people ha e no sense.
If only they would sweat, and wash, eat slow,
Drin less, thin more, the leech would star e or go
But they prefer debauchery, disease,
Clysters, drugs, philtres, lth, and paying fees!
Now then, to business!
PSYCHE‘ Tell me how you guessed
It was my heart that found itself distressed !

HERMES. I always sing a woman ust that song;

In twenty years I’ e ne er once been wrong.
Seeing me thus mar ellously wise,
Veneration follows on surprise:
Sometimes they will do what I ad ise!
PSYCHE. I see. You ha e real nowledge.
HERMES. Not to be learnt at college!
PSYCHE. Good; you’re my man. I am come from Greece,
Where the Gods li e and lo e us, sorrowing
For my lost husband. I ha e found him here,
But with his memory gone, his mind distraught,
Li ing in lu ury with a courtesan
(I could forgi e him that if he new me),
Filled with a blind unreasoning fear of what
Who nows? He’s haunted by a spectre ingl
144
 ADONIS
HERMES. Physicians must now e erything:
Half the night burn learning’s candle,
Half the day de ote to scandal.
Here’s the mischief of the matter
That I learn most from the latter!
Yesterday I paid a isit
Το the fair . . . Astarte, is it?
Saw the itchen and the closet,
Deduced diet from deposit,
Saw where sil worm oined with swan
Το ma e a bed to sleep upon,
Saw the crowd of cringing na es
That ha e made their masters sla es,
Saw Astarte—diagnosed
What had made him see a ghost !

PSYCHE. Can you cure him?

HERMES. In my hurry
(And a not unnatural worry
At the name of lobster curry)
I so far forgot my duty
As to mention to the beauty
What . . . well here’s the long and short
!

of it I
Just e actly what I thought of it.
Tempests, by Oannes' n!
PSYCHE. Sorry that he'd called you in?
HERMES. So much so that I’d a doubt
If he wouldn’t call me out!
PSYCHE. Then he will not hear your counsel?
HERMES. No; I bade him li e on groundsel ;

11 K 145
 THE EQUINOX
But the little social friction
Interfered with the prescription.
PSYCHE. There's no hope, then ?
HERMES. Lend an ear!
We may rule him by his fear!
Somehow we may yet contri e
That he see the King, and li e !

Ha e you in uence?
PSYCHE. At Court?
Plenty, in the last resort
Letters from his suzerain!
HERMES. You are high in fa our then?
PSYCHE. Ay, that needs not to be sworn;
I am his own daughter borni
HERMES. In thy blood the spar di ine
Of Olympus ?
PSYCHE. E en in mine
HERMES. Har , then! At the Hour of Fears
When the lordly Lion rears
In mid-hea en his bul of bane
Violently Vi id, sha es his mane
Ma estical, and Sna e and Bull
Lamp the horizon, and the full
Fire of the moon tops hea en, and spurns
The stars, while Mars ruddily burns,
And Venus glows, and Jupiter
Ramps through the s y astride of her,
Then, unattended, let the King
Press on the little secret spring
That guards the garden, and entering
146
 ADONIS
Lay once his hand upon him, e en
While in the white arms of his hea en
He swoons to sleep. That dreadful summons
From the wild witchery his woman’s,
That shaft of shattering truth shall splinter
The pine of his soul’s winter.
Then do thou following cry once
His name; as from eclipse the sun’s
Supernal splendour springs, his sight
Shall leap to light.
PSYCHEl Shall leap to light!
Master, this wisdom how repay?
HERMES. I am sworn unto thy father—Nay!
Weep not and neel not! See, mine art
[The two other hahdmaidehs are sem standing hy their
fel/ow.
Hath wrought such wonder in thine heart
That—loo !
PSYCHE. Ahl Pistis, Elpis how
l

Are you here? You were not with me now!

You ed me. Charis only came
Through those dar dreams.
HERMES. Farewell [
Proclaim
For my reward my art’s success
More than yourself need happiness.
PSYCHE. Farewell and prosper greatly!
[She goes out with her maidens.
HERMES. And thou, li e high and stately
In glory and gree tenfold
That which thou hadst of old [He draw: the curtain.
l

147
 THE EQUINOX

SCENE I : ΤΗΕ ANTECHAMBER 01: THE KING’S PALACE. It is a

ast hall of blac marble. At the eornersfonrfonntains
play in basins of eoloarea’ marble. At the bac a narrow
door z‘llarea’ by ast man-balls in white marble.
[n mid—stage the LADY PSYCHE, seated on the ground, her long
hair nnloosea', her robe of shining sil er, monrns.
W'ith her are the three hand/haidau boweol and mourning at
frontof the stage R., c., ana’ L. The aged women are
grong etl in front of stage C., on the ste s which lead to
the hall.
No light comes sa e through the robes of the LADY PSYCHE
from the ewels that aa’or/I her. Their glimmer is, how-
e er, such as to ll the hall with Inoony raa’ianee, misty
ttim, ana’ lost in the astness of the building

PSYCHE. Silence grows hateful; hollow is mine heart

Here in the fateful hall; I wait apart.
Dimmer, still dimmer dar ness eils my sight;
There is no glimmer heralding the light.
I, the King‘s daughter, am but serf and thrall
Where Time hath wrought her cobweb in the hall.
This blood a ails not; where’s the Signet ring
Whose puissance fails not to arouse the King?
Heir of his heart, I am uncrowned; then, one
That hath no art or craft in Babylon.
left my home and found a assal’s house—
This lampless dome of death, ertiginous!
Ο or the foam of billows that carouse
About the crag—set columnsl for the breeze
I48
 ADONIS
That fans their agging Caryatidesl
For the gemmed estibule, the porch of pearl,
The bowers of rest, the silences that furl
Their wings upon mine amethystine chamber
Whose lions shone with emerald and amber!
Ο for the throne whereon my father’s awe,
Lofty and lone, lets liberty lo e law!
All ustice wrought, its sword the healer’s nife!
All mercy, not less logical than life!
Alas I wait a widowed suppliant
!

Betrayed to fate, blind trampling elephant.

I wait and mourn. Will not the dust disclose
The Unicorn, the Unicorn that goes
About the gardens 01 these halls of Spring,
First of the wardens that defend the King?
First ower 01 Spring, rst maiden of the mom,
Wilt thou not bring me to the Unicorn ?
[7he Uhteorh þasses e er He has the swifthess of the
horse, the li/amem of the deer, the whiteness pf the
παι“, horn of ₪6 ham/hat. He couches upon the
right side of the LADY PSYCHB.
Hail I thou that holdest thine appointed station,
Lordliest and boldest of his habitation,
Silence that foldest o er its creation
!

[The Liar; fa es o er. He ts redder than the setting

sun. He couches uþon the left Sitte of the LADY
PSYCHE.
Hail ! thou that art his Ward and warrior,
The brazen heart, the iron pulse 01 war !

Up start, up start! and set thyself to roar!

149
 THE EQUINOX
[The Peaeooh passes (wer. This feaeoe/a is great that
50
hisfan, as he 515760115 it on touching before the face of
the LADY PSYCHE, /'ts the 11/0016 of the hat/.
Hail glory and light his ma esty that hideth,
!

Pride and delight whereon his image rideth,

While in thic night and dar ness he abidethl
[Τhe stage now o’arhens. E en the tight 50611 hy the
16111615 of the LADY PSYCHE is e tingnishect. Then,
from the gate of the Patoee between the 111011-
00115 there issneth a golden haw In his 06016
is a ewel which he drops into the [amp that hangs
from the height 000716 the 06011 of the LADY PSYCHE.
This [ain‘t remains dar/z. During this dar ness the
Unicorn, the Lion, 01111 the Peaeoe/e disappear.)
Lo e me and lead me through the blind abyssesl
Fill me and feed me on the crowning isses,
Li e owers that ic er in the garden of glory,
Pools of pure li uor li e pale ames and hoary
That lamp the lightless ernpyrean! Ah! lo e mel
All space be sightless, and thine eyes abo e mel
Thrice burnt and branded on this bleeding brow,
Stamp thou the candid stigma—e en now !

[The 1071115 ashes forth into dazzling 0111 momentary

raa’ianee. A s it goes 0111 0 tone of white light is seen
upon the heaa’ of THE LADY PSYCHE, 01111 before her
stana’s a figure of 1101116056 height 61000611 anzi hooded
in perfect h/aehness.
THE KING. Come! for the throne is hollow. The eagle
hath cried :

Come away! The stars are numbered, and the tide

r50
 ADONIS
Turns. Follow! Follow Thine Adonis slumbered.
As a bride
Adorned, come, follow Fate alone is fallen and wried.
I

Follow me, follow! The un nown is satis ed.

[The LADY Ps cr-IE 15 lifted to her feet. [71 51167166 she
bows, aha’ 171 51/67166 fol/aws him 115 he 1117715 ahd
ad ance: to the gate while the 6117111171fat/5.

SCENE : THE GARDEN OF THE LADY ASTARTE. THE LORD

ESARHADDON is lying 071 ₪6 mach with his mistre s.
Their arms are ihtei/twihea’. They aha’ ₪617 sla es and
”1111116715 are 11// fat/eh into the ab;/sse: of deeþ sleeþ.

It 15 a dead/e55 Might,- and the fit/imam, apg i/oathihg

mid—hea en, 611515 but the shortest shadows.

The M117771111 of the 37/6666

I am the Breeze to bless the bowels,
Sigh through the trees, caress the owers;
Each folded bud to sway, to swoon,
With its green blood beneath the moon
Stirred softly by my iss I bear;

The soft reply of amber air

To the e haled sighs of the heat
That dreams and dies amid the wheat,
From the cool breasts of mountains far—
Their serried crests clasp each a star!
The earth’s pulse throbs with mighty ri ers;
With her low sobs God’s hea en ui ers ;
I5
 THE EQUINOX
The dew stands on her brow with lo e
;

She aches for all the abyss abo e,

Her roc s and chasms the li ely strife
Of her sharp spasms of lust, of life.
Har ! to the whisper of my fan,
My sister iss to maid and man.
Through all earth’s wombs, through all sea's wa es,
Gigantic glooms, forgotten gra es,
l haunt the tombs of ings and sla es.
I hush the babe, I wa e the bird,
I wander away beyond stars unstirred,
Soften the ripples of the tide,
Soothe the bruised nipples of the bride,
Help stars and clouds play hide-and-see ,
Wind seamen’s shrouds, bid ruins spea ,
Bring dreams to slumber, sleep to dream
Whose demons cumber night’s e treme.
And softer sped than dream or death
Quiet as the dead, or slain lo e‘s breath,
I sigh for lo es that swoon upon
The hanging gro es of Babylon.
Each terrace adds a shower of scent
Where lass and lad seduce content ;

Each Vine that hangs con rms the stress

Of purer pangs of drun enness;
Each marble wall and pillar swer es
Ma estical my course to cur es
Subtle as breasts and limbs and tresses
Of this caressed sua e sorceress’s
That ra es and rests in wildernesses
152
 ADONIS
Whose giant gifts are strength that scars
Her soul and lifts her to the stars,
Sa age, and tenderness that tunes
Her Spirit‘s splendour to the moon’s,
And music of passion to outrun
The ery fashion of the sun.
Hush ! there’s a stir not mine amid the gro es,
A foot di ine that yet is not li e lo e‘sl
Hush! let me furl my forehead I’ll be gone
!

Το ic er and curl abo e great Babylon.

[The Gate of the Garden opens. THE LADY PSYCHE
ad ances and muhe: way for THE KING OF BABYLON
He is attended hy rnany comfanies of warriors in
arrnonr of hnrnished sil er and gold, with swords,
sg ears, and shields.
These tei/ee up position at the baa/e of the stage, in perfect
silence of foot as of throat
[THE LADY PYSCHE remains standing by the gate ; THE
KING OF BABYLON ad ances with in nite stealth,
dignity, slowness, and power, toward the conch
PSYCHE. Life? Is it life? What hour of fate is on the
bell?
Of this supreme ordeal what issue? Hea en or
hell?
I am stripped of all my power now when I need it
most;
I am empty and unreal, a shadow or a ghost.
All the great sta e is thrown, e en now the dice are
falling.
All deeds are loc ed in lin s, one to another calling
53
 THE EQUINOX
Through time: from the dim throne the rst rune that
was rec’d
By God, the supreme Sphin , determined the last
deed.
[THE KING OF BABYLON reaches forth his hand and arm.
I! is the ham! and arm of a she/elm. He touches
theforeheaa’ of the sleeþmg Iani. Instant/y, radiant
and 6 ?!/ ‫ ?שש‬a aha/e gm'e is seen erect
PSYCHE. Adonis
ADONIS. Psyche I

[They run together and embrace.

PSYCHE. Ah I
long—lost!
ADONIS. My wife
Light, O intolerable! In nite lo e 0 life
Beyond death!
PSYCHE. I ha e found thee!
ADONIS. I was thine
PSYCHE. I thine
From all the ages [

ADONIS. To the ages!

PSYCHE. Mine!
[The KING passes o er and deþm'ts.
Chorus af Soldiers
Hail to the Lord l

Without a spear, without a sword

He hath smitten, he hath smitten, one stro e of his
Worth all our weaponed puissances.
There is no helm, no hauber , no cuirass,
No shield of se enfold steel and se enfold brass
154
 ADONIS
Resists his touch; no sword, no spear but shi ers
Before his glance. Eternally life ui ers
And reels before him; death itself, the hound of God,
Slin s at his heel, and lic s the dust that he hath trod.
[Τheyfollow their Lord, singing.
PSYCHE. I am a dewdrop focussing the sun
That res the forest to the horizon,
I am a cloud on whom the sun begets
The iris arch, a fountain in whose ets
Throbs inner re of the earth’s heart, a ower
Slain by the sweetness of the summer shower.
ADONIS. I am myself, nowing I am thou.
Forgetfulness forgotten now!
Truth, truth prime al, truth eternal,
Unconditioned, sempiternal,
Sets the God Within the shrine
And my mouth on thine, on thine.
[THE LADY ASTARTE wahes. lh her arms is the 6071556 of
the LORD ESARHADDON.
ASTARTE. Ο fearful dreams! Awa e and iss me! Awa e!
I thought I was crushed and strangled by a sna e.
[She rises. The to sefa/is.
He is dead! He is dead! Ο lips of burning bloom,
You are ashen. [The awfails.
The blac laughter of the tomb!
Then let me ill myself! Bring death distilled
From nightshade, mon shood, Let no dawn regild
This night. Let me not see the damned light
Of day, but drown in this blac -hearted night!
Ho, sla es I
[ADONIS and PSYCHE ad ance fo her,
155
 THE EQUINOX
ADONIS. Thyself a sla e! What curse (unbated
Till patient earth herself is nauseated)
Is worse than this, an handmaiden that creeps
Into her mistress’ bed while her lord sleeps,
And robs her?
ASTARTE. And what worse calamity
Than his re enge? But lea e me, let me die!
[She falls from; a! their feet.
PSYCHE. Add robbery to robbery! We need thee
Το ser e us. Let us raise thee up and feed thee,
Comfort and cherish thee until the end,
Less sla e than child, less ser itor than friend,
ADONIS. Rise! let the breath ow, let the lips af rm
Fealty and lo e. Το the appointed term
Within thy garden as belo ed guests
Of thine, let us abide. Now lips and breasts
Touching, three bodies and one soul, the triple troth
Con rm.
PSYCHE. The great indissoluble oath !

ASTARTE. Lift me !
[They raise her; all embrace.
By him that e er reigns upon
The throne, and wears the crown, of Babylon,
I ser e, and lo e.
PSYCHE. This iss con rm it!
ADONIS. This !

ASTARTB. Iha e gained all in losing all. Now iss

Once more with arms lin ed !

ADONIS. The dawn brea s!

ASTARTE. Behold
Lo e’s blush!
I 56
 ADONIS
PSYCHE. Light‘s brea ing!
ADONIS, Life’s great globe of gold I

ASTARTE, Come! let us brea our fast.

PSYCHE. My long fast’s bro en.
ADONIS. Let us tal of lo e.
PSYCHE. Lo e‘s rst-last word is spo en.
ADONIS. Nayl but the tides of trouble are transcended.
The word’s begun, but ne er shall be ended.
And though the sun forsa e the maiden east,
Life be for us a ne er—fading feast.
[They go ion/Jam’s the home, singing.
ALL. The crown of our life is our lo e,
The crown of our lo e is the light
That rules all the region abo e
The night and the stars of the night;
That rules all the region aright,
The abyss to abysses abo e;
For the crown of our lo e is the light,
And the crown of our light is our lo e.

57
 THE GHOULS
CROQUIS DE CROQUE—MITAINE
PAR

ALEISTER CROWLEY

Ta Gwendalm Ο !"

59
 PERSONS OF THE PLAY
STANISLAS WASKA, :: “ ι“...
FENELLA LOVELL, his pupil, a gzþsy girl
M‘PHERSON, the doctor at Foyer:
An Underta er
THE M‘ALISTER, [gird ofBole z'ne and herilor of 1/12 buryzhg-g mnd
GEORGE FOSTER. Pauel/a,: la er
 THE GHOULS
SCENE I: A bedroom in the hotel at Foyers. A large ofen
window gi es on Loch Ness and Mealtfa ournie, ablaze
in the sun. In the bed lies Washa, fro ped with /)illows,
his face a ghastly ochre. He is absolutely bald and hair-
less 011 his teeth are gone but the unnatural/y long fangs
‫י‬,?

of his canines. By the bed are medicine-bottles on a

small table, and on the bed 61056 ta his hands, which lie
claws u on the sheets, is his iolin—ease.
1106
O er him bends the doetor, 0 red, burly Scot. By the window
stands Fenella, fantastically dressed in red, yellow, and
blue, her blaoh hair wreathed with owers. She is slight,
thin, with ery short shirts, her sfider legs encased in
;11116 blue stoohings. Her golden shoes with their e -
aggerated heels ha e ?0516 buc les. In her ?016 face her
round blaeh eyes blaze. She is ranged and powdered;
her thin lips are ;501111611 hea ily. Her shoulder-bones
stare from her low—neehed dress, and a diamond dog-collar
elasps her shining throat. She 15 about se enteen years
old. She is standing by 01501 of blue china eontaining a
hydrangea, tearing at the 0105501115 111 her ner ousness.
THE DOCTOR [rising and addressing her . There is ery
little li elihood of his regaining consciousness.
VII L [61
 THE EQUINOX
FENELLA. He‘s done for, then?
M‘PHERSON. Both lungs gone. I don't now how he’s
li ed this last month.
FENELLA. Oh, he’s a tough one. [Lowering her wice,
You now, they say he’s sold his soul to the de il.
M‘PHERSON. If he has, the bill’s o erdue.
FENELLA. When will he die?
M‘PHERSON. One can’t say e actly. Maybe an hour, maybe
less. Or he might last till morning.
FENELLA. How can I tell?
M‘PHERSON. You can't tell. I'll loo in again in an hour.
I’m off to the laird's; his leddy's near her time. I'll loo in
as I pass.
FENELLA. All right. I’ll wire for the underta er to come
down from In erness by the afternoon boat.
M‘PHERSON. But, Good God I the man isn't dead.
FENELLA. But you say he will be by morning !

᾽ ΗΕ ΞΟΝ. Anyhow you needn’t trouble. He’s in the

hotel now; he came down this morning for old Mrs Fraser of
Stratherric .
FENELLA. All right. I’ll tal to him. [The doctor goes
In an hour’s time, then. I hope you’ll ha e something more
de nite to say—why can’t I get into the sunshine? I ha en’t
been out for three days.
M‘PHERSON [ut Me dom/ . Well, you wouldn't ha e a
nurse.
FENELLA. No, I wouldn’t. He’s my master: I’ll ne er
lea e him till he’s dead. How do I now what she’d do?
M‘PHERSON. In an hour then. Good day.
[He goe out and closes door.
162
 THE GHOULS
FENELLA [crying after him .Send that underta er up if
you see him [AI/me, will/ ing ‫( ?”ץ‬mci down the roam nerwm/y
!

Iwish I dared touch the Stradl But he’s not dead yet. I
could nish him if I new how.
FENELLA. [Goes ta window, mul 61/ ‫ ? ש‬An answering
whistle. FENELLA [arms out, It's all right, George, I hope.
The doctor says it will be o er in an hour, or at latest, by
morning. You shall lie in my arms all night. I’ll dri e you
mad. I'll play on the Strad at last. You shall die, dear. Do
you lo e me? . . . Yes, I now. 0! I can see it in your
eyes. To—night, then. Or to-morrow and for e er! Will
you ta e me to Paris? I should li e to li e on Montmartre,
and set the city on re while I played, as Nero did. What an
orchestra, the roaring ames !

WASKA [sit/Mg up m bed . What the de il are you doing,

Fenella? Who are you tal ing to?
FENELLA. I was tal ing to myself, master. You ha en’t
been ery good company, lately.
WASKA. Ah, you spiteful little beastl Ifyou’d been ind
to me I would ne er ha e been ill.
FENELLA. I’ e nursed you.
WASKA. You’ e stolen my life, damn you, you am-
pirel
FENELLA. Rubbish!
WASKA. Yes; but I’ e been with the de il.
FENELLA. What’s that?
WASKA. He’s gi en me bac my youth and strength.
FENELLA. For what price? What ha e you to gi e ?
WASKA. Ah yes I sold my soul for my art. I am to play
duets with Paganini in hell. But I’ e a new tric . I’m to
163
 THE EQUINOX
ha e you for fty years, and to nd new ways to torture your
soul for his pleasure.
FENELLA. You de il! But I’m Christ’s; you can‘t touch
me. I’m a irgin! I’m a irgin lHe’ll sa e me from you.
WASKA. U! Hu! Hu! you Christ’s! I spit!
FENELLA. Yes; you shall roast ; I can see your esh
burning and blac ening, and smell the Stin of it. For e er!
For e er! Ha! Ha! Ha!
WASKA. Ah! I’ e my strength bac . You shall come to
my bed to-night, Fenella.
FENELLA. Faugh!
WASKA. I’ e the power at last. You ungrateful little wild—
cat! Didn’t I pic you out of the gutter, and care for you li e
my own esh and blood? Didn’t I dress you ne, and teach
you to dance and play?
FENELLA. You ne er let me touch the Strad.
WASKA. No; and you ne er shall. It's the de il’s Strad;
you shan’t touch it. Now, dance for me!
FENELLA. I won’t.
WASKA. You will. If you don’t, I’ll put a curse on you!
I’ll twist your spider-legs with rheumatism!
FENELLA. All right: I'll dance.
[She dame: hghl/y and gracefully for him. He claps
his home’s/ray the time.
WASKA. Bra o! Bra o! But put passion into it. You’ e
got to lo e me now.
FENELLA. Lo e you! Lo e a corpse! Lo e a wrin led,
haggard, toothless old wolf. Filth! Filth! Ifyou had sense
enough to now what your own bed was li e—this last
month.
164
 THE GHOULS
WASKA. You’ll sleep in it to-night. I’ll get a child on you
to—night! An imp! A monster! A thing with horns and
hoofs!
FENELLA. You‘ll die to—night! Your pact’s up. Die,
stin , rot, you rag! And all the sulphur of hell will ne er
fumigate your soul.
WASKA. I’ll beat you for this. Bring me the whip!
FENELLA. Your dog—whip days are done. [She ha’s the
whip Ta e that! [She lashes him 067055 the face. No
bloodfo/lows the blow See! you’ e no strength.
[She gi es him α litt/e ush. He fulls hath on the
iii/law, gasþz'hg.
WASKA. Now hear me curse you !
[A lahoeh at the door.
FENELLA [weilai/y . Come in !

[The underta er, hat in hami, comes winging in.

UNDERTAKERI Good e ening, miss. I heard you were
wanting to see me.
FENELLA. Yes, measure this corpse.
UNDERTAKER. Why, miss, the man’s not dead.
FENBLLA. He will be to—night.
UNDERTAKER. I’ll come again, miss, when I hear from the
doctor. [He tum: to go.
WASKA [rising . Yes! it’s true, you! But mar me, you
can ma e no boards tough enough nor clamps of steel to hold
me! There’s no gra e deep enough to bury me, no earth
that will lie on me. I'm the de il’s ddler, Mr Underta er!
Now am I afraid, or are you ?
UNDERTAKER. I see he’s not in his right mind, miss.
Consumpti es is often li e that at the last. [He goes out.
WASKA. It’s true, Fenella, I’m dying. I lied to you.
165
 THE EQUINOX
Now come here! D’ye see, I’m tired of my bargain. I’m
afraid of hell. Loo you, here's my plan. You’ll bury the
Strad with me, and maybe, when the trumpet sounds, if I
play the ”Messiah,” Christ’ll hear me, and ta e me up to
hea en. There’s not many ddlers li e me either in hea en
or on earth. Paganini’s in hell; you can hear it in his
music; he’s writhing and roasting in hell, I say. Shouldn't
that be enough for Master Satan?
FENELLA, I don't care where you are, so long as you’re
out of here. The Strad's mine, you promised it to me. You
swore it on the holy cross I
WASKA. Only if you slept with me. I‘m not to be cheated.
I’m not the one to gi e something for nothinghdamn you for
a greedy, heartless wench.
FENELLA. Damn you! Before you’re cold I’ll play
your dirge on it; and it shall sound li e a wedding
march.
WASKA. Oh no! you won’t! Come closer! [She obeys
Here, you‘ e ne er seen this. [He ta es a little wooden 67055
from under [he fii/ow. It's the wood of the True Cross!
Now swear, or I’ll curse you ! Ta e it in your hand! Say it
after me.
[She ta es the !!!055 and 721561115 the oath after him.
I, Fenella Lo ell, the gipsy, swear by my soul’s sal ation
and by the blessed wood of the holy rood, to bury my master’s
iolin with him—don’t falter, damn you l—and if I‘don’t,
may Christ spit me out, Christ spit me out, and may I fall
into hell and be roasted for e er by de ils with pitchfor s,
Amen! And on earth may my hair fall out, and my eyes
rot in my head, and the lupus eat my nose, and the cancer eat
166
 THE GHOULS
my tongue, and my throat be twisted, and my lungs wither
away, and my heart be torn out, and my li er be eaten by
worms, and my bowels be thrown to the dogs. May my s in
be white with the leprosy, and my blood corrupted with the
plague, and my bones rotted with the po ; so hear me,
blessed Christ, Amen I [FENELLAfa/Jsfuin/ing,
She won‘t dare now I
[A 471064 a! door. M‘PHERSON follows it.
Now, doctor, I’m your man!
[Hefal/s bat/ on the þi/Iaws. The doctor rushesfamam')
mm’ 11462465 his e amination
M‘PHERSON. Dead this time, and no error! Come, Miss
Lo ell, bear up! [He if/3 FENELLA.
FENELLA. Dead, did you say?
M‘PHERSON. I‘m sorry to say so.
FENELLA. 0, if it had only come ten minutes earlier! . . .
Go !
Lea e me Send the people to do what must be done I
!

M‘PHERSON. I’m thin ing you‘d be the better for a doze of

physic yourself.
FBNELLA, Do you thin the priest can ta e off dead men’s
curses ?
M‘PHERSON. I’m afraid that's hardly in my line. But I’ll
send for a priest from Fort Augustus. I suppose he was a
Catholic ?
FENELLA. He was a de il from hell. Oh gol Go! Lea e
me to horror and to fear. Icould iss death it‘s life I shrin
:

from. Go! Please go I

M‘PHERSON. It’s the indest thing I can do. But I’ll loo
in later. [He goes out.
FENELLA. Bury it with him Oh, if I dared once touch it,
I

167
 THE EQUINOX
I’d dare steal it. But I can’t. It’s too horrible. They say
there are fol who don‘t fear curses. If I could sell my soul
as he did—but how shall I get the de il to hear me? There’s
a way. But I don’t now it. Bury it with him? And—oh!
blessed God thou hast sa ed me—I seel I see!
!

[She nn: to the window,

George! George! He‘s dead—come up! I‘ e something
to tell you. Quic !
[She dantes to the 11007 and z'mþatiently ttngs it open.
GEORGE FOSTER comes running np the stain. He is a
313101112 !/ ‫ ש‬.? with 11/11 face, long blande hair, and dnl!
eyes. She 02115/‫ ?) ן‬her arms mund him and co ers him
with hing: nnd ξ
GEORGE. Don’t, Fenella darling! You hurt!
FENELLA. The old de il’s done for. I’m yours! And the
Strad's mine, if you’re bra e! Oh! iss me iss me!
l

iss me!
GEORGE. Ought we to ma e lo e when he’s lying dead?
FENELLA. Oh, your oughts! Did your nurse ne er tell
you that ought stands or nothing?
GEORGE. Anyhow, I don’t li e it.
FENELLA. He’s dead! Can a dead man see and hear?
Loo ! I spit in the lthy face—does he whip me as he used,
and curse me? Ah, but he cursed me! And that’s where you
must help.
GEORGE. I’ll help you in anything.
FENELLA. It’s a dreadful thing! But you can win me!
GEORGE. I won you long ago.
FENELLA. Not that much! [She ic s her/ingens. But
if you'll get the Strad for me, I'm yours for e er!
168
 THE GHOULS
GEORGE.Then we’ll ta e it.
FENELLA. Ο! but I’ e sworn to bury it with him.
GEORGE. Get the priest to absol e you. I suppose he
forced you to swear.
FENELLA. Oh noI I swore it on the wood of the True
Cross. But I didn't swear not to get it afterwards !

GEORGE. Get it afterwards?

FENELLA. Yes dig him up and ta e it
;

GEORGE. 0! I couldn’t. It’s too horrible. You mustn't

as me to do a thing li e that.
FENELLA. Well, then, I’ll get someone else.
GEORGE. No! I'll do it.
FENELLA. Swear to me!
GEORGE. By the body of Christ, I'll do it.
FENELLA. Then iss me! Come, where he can see us!
GEORGE. He can’t see us. He’s dead.
FENELLA. His soul can see.
GEORGE. Those lthy eyes of his glare li e a de il’s still.
FENELLA. Kiss me! Then we‘ll put pennies on them.
[She dags . That horrible dropped aw loo s as if he were
laughing. He used always to laugh hollow, li e curses
ringing and echoing in the dome of hell.
GEORGE. Let’s tie it up with a hand erchief! [A noc .
FENELLA. Come in! [Enter the UNDERTAKER as before.
UNDERTAKER. Pardon, miss, the doctor told me as how
the angel ’ad passed.
FENELLA. Yes: he’s dead. Measure him. That iolin
has to be buried with him. He was always afraid of being
buried ali e; ma e a ery thin shell, so that it can be
opened easily.
169
 THE EQUINOX
UNDERTAKER. Right, miss. I’ll nish it with short nails.
If he was to struggle, it‘d come open easy.
FENELLA, Just what I want.
UNDERTAKER. Pardon, miss, but I hope he died easy.
FENELLA. It’s ne er ery dif cult, is it? I thin there
are only three people in history who failed at it.
UNDERTAKER. O, miss, I meant right with his Ma er.
FENELLA. He was a good Catholic, and belie ed in the
resurrection of the body. So do I. Now we'll lea e you to
your wor .
[She 65?/‫ ?!חן‬GEORGE’S arm, (md mm of ‫ ? שש‬him down
stain.
UNDERTAKER. A precious old 'un, and by the loo s of him
a precious bad 'un.

CURTAIN.

170
 THE GHOULS
SCENE 11 :The Burying—ground at Boleshine. It is ery
ancient; the walls are lined with tombs whose tablets ha e
been scarred by bit/lets, A t the bat/ , in mid-stage, is a
little tower with a window, intended for a watcher in the
days when body-snatching was common. There are many
tombs and stones; bones lie here and there, for the
digging of e ery fresh gra e disinters se eral dead.
lt is entered by a wooden grate between s uare stone pillars
on the left, near front of stage. It being the height of
summer in the northern Highlands, it is fairly light,
although cloudy and mean/en
Near the centre is the fresh tomb of Stanislas Washa, loose
earth ilea’ into a mound. Thefoot of the monndfaees the
footlzghts. The gate is o ened by FENELLA, fearfnlly
ad ancing, followed by GEORGE with a sz ade.
They tip-toe in silence to the new gra e, then staþ and listen.
FENELLA. All right. Get along. E ery second increases
the danger.
GEORGE. I’ll wor ; you listen.
[He sets to war/ to sho el away the loose earth.
FENBLLA. 1 can hear half way to Foyers on the road.
GEORGE. Yes; you ha e perfect ears.
FENELLA. No nonsense now. Don't stri e the spade in
li e that you'll wa e the county.
;

[The howl of a ball—dog, e actly li e the crying of a

child, is heardfar 017
GEORGE. All right. It’s only that damned dog of
M‘Alister’s. He does it e ery night.
FENELLA. He sees the ghost of old Lord Lo at.
171
 THE EQUINOX
GEORGE. Old Lord Lo at?
FENELLA. Yes they beheaded him after the ’45. He rolls
;

his head up and down the corridors.

GEORGE. Pleasant pastime !
FENELLA. What else is a man to do?
GEORGE. What’s that tapping? [He staffs to listen.
FENBLLA. Go on !
It's only the 016 woman.
GEORGE. What old woman?
FENELLA. Her son was a lunatic. They let him out cured,
as they thought. His mother came up here with him to lay
owers on his father’s gra e ; and he caught her legs and
smashed her brains against the wall.
GEORGE. Oh damn it!
FENELLA. You baby! So e er since she comes from time
to time to try and pic her brains off the wall.
GEORGE. I’m damned if I li e this ob. Here, hang the
ddle ; let‘s get out.
FENELLA. The last you’ll see of me if you do. There,
you’re nearly through with the rst bit. Hullo there’s a cart.
!

GEORGE. By God, yes. It’s coming this way.

FENELLA. They’re bound to see us. Come along; we’ll
hide in the loo out.
[They ga ‫ ?ש‬stage and enter the narrow !1007 of the tower.
The mise af the 1746784565!/ ‫ ? ש‬By and by one dis—
tingnishes two a’rnnhen oices singing “ We are na
fou’." They grow 71er loud ana’ die away again.
[Re—enter FENELLA and GEORGE.
GEORGE.That’s better. I don't mind carts and Scotchmen.
It’s your ghosts I’m afraid of.
FENELLA. Get on, then! [He sets to wor again.
172
 THE GHOULS
FENELLA [sings in a low oice —
The ghost is chilly in his shroud :—
Laugh aloud! Laugh aloud!
His bones are rattling in the wind;
His teeth are chattering with the cold ;

For he is dead, and out of mind,

And oh! so cold!

He wal s and wal s and wraps his shroud

(Laugh aloud! Laugh aloud!)
Around his bones. He shi ers and glares,
For hell is in his heart stone—cold—
What is the use ο spells and prayers
Το one so cold?

The dogs how! when they scent his shroud.

Laugh aloud! Laugh aloud !

The illage lads and lasses feel

A breath of bitter wind and cold
Blow from those bones of ice and steel
So cold! So cold !

GEORGE. My God, Fenella, I thin you want to dri e

me mad.
FENELLA. Not here, dear. Come, there‘s nobody about
You may iss me, for there's the wood of the cof n.
GEORGE. O don't let us lose time!
FENELLA. No! I’ll eep time.
[She dances fantastical/y to the rhythm of his
sho e/ling
73
 THE EQUINOX
GEORGE. Don’t. You’ e got all my ner es on edge.
What’s that? [He starts iolently.
FENELLA. A ner e, I suppose. Come now. I’ll ta e this
end.
[They lift out the et)/fin. She fractures a chisel.
And now to crac the nut! Good old underta er! He’s
done his ob beautifully.
[Τhe lid of the [afin comes ef; they Set it aside.
GEORGE. And there’s the Strad for my darling!
[He gi es her the iolin, aha! isses her.
FENELLA. Ah! my beauty, my beauty! Mine at last.
Don’t iss me, you fooll It's the Strad that I lo e, not you.
Put the lid bac uic ! We’ll be off!
GEORGE. So that’s the than s Iget, curse you, is it? I’ e
a olly good mind to smash the beastly thing.
FENELLA, You dare! Don’t be a fool, George! All my
lo e when we’re bac safely. Ta e the lid !

[A whistle is heard, of.

. . . Oh,myGOdl . .. [A
try of: " Heel, Shir/a, heel! "
GEORGE. It’s the M‘Alister with his cursed bloodhounds!
What does he want at this time 0’ night?
FENELLA. Oh, he’s as mad as a March Hare!
GEORGE. He’s the heritor of the gra eyard. If he comes,
we're done for! Oh God! Oh God! What shall we do?
FENELLA. Do? Why, tell him the whole story. He’s a
good Chap and an artist. He‘ll understand that you can’t
bury the third best Strad in the world! And, besides, I’ll
ma e lo e to him.
GEORGE. You treacherous whore!
I74
 THE GHOULS
FENELLA. Always a gentleman! I tell you what, my
friend.I'm my own mistress now, and tired of being yours.
GEORGE. I wish I’d cut my hand off rather than helped
you.
FENELLA. Cut your stupidity off, and your tal . Here’s
the laird on the road now.
[THE M'ALISTERaþþmm leaning on lite/mm.
THE M‘ALISTER, Hullo! what are you doing in my gra e-
yard, young lady?
FENELLA. Digging up a corpse. . . . Why, it’s the
M‘Alister!
THE M‘ALISTER. Yes. Isn’t that Miss Lo ell? Fine
night, isn‘t it? I suppose you don’t want any help? All
right.
GEORGE. O Than you, sir.
than you, sir.
FENELLA. Ne er mind my poor friend: he‘s not used to
this sort of thing—shut up, will you, you fool! May I
come up to tea to—morrow?
THE M‘ALIerR. Oh, come to lunch, and we'll try for a
rabbit afterwards. Good night! One o’cloc . Er—this
ghoul act, you now! I should hurry o er the meal; there
may be all sorts of asses about.
FENELLA. Than s so much. Good night. Get on, George.
[THE M‘ALISTER goes off
You idiot! You nearly spoilt e erything.
GEORGE. It’s all right.
FENELLA. Yes, no than s to you Get on with the wor .
l

[Loud laughter, of, distant

Lord, there’s fools abroad! Wor men from Foyers, I
should thin . [Poim‘s a : L. And, yes, there’s fol from
75
 THE EQUINOX
In erfarigaig, too. [Points mi", R. I can hear them tal ing
—religion, of all things!
GEORGE. We’re caught li e rats in a trap! Let’s get into
the tower !

FENELLA. And lea e the body there? We’ e no time.

Blessed Saints of Godl I ha e it. What a fool you are!
They’re not fond of the road ust here, the best of times. I’ll
try the rst isses of my beauty [she reaches for the iolin .
—if that doesn’t frighten them, I‘m a Dutchman!
GEORGE. Oh how cle er you are!
FENELLA. E en if they come and see us, they’ll thin we’re
de ils.
GEORGE. So you are, Fenellal
[She has ta en the w’oliu from its ease und begin: to play.
In a few moments two hem/deu' men enter R. and loo/
o er the wall
THE MEN. Lord, sa e us 1
[They ee in terror.
FENELLA. Sa ed 1
The only thing now is the Foyers
men they may be too drun to be afraid
: 1

[She luys again, a wilder melody. Both she and GEORGE

lose themsel es in the beauty ofthe music. STANISLAS
WASKA suddenly sits up in his eo in, and tears of the
wmþþz'ngs. A horrihle grin distorts his face, and
with u ehohing 70117 he leaps at GEORGE, catching him
by the throat
WASKA. Go on, Fenella! You were worthy Of the Strad,
after all.
[She shriehs and drops the ddle. GEORGE goes limp,
strangled
I’ e illed your lo er, my ne irgin. I heard e ery word
176
 THE GHOULS
you said, I watched e ery lthy iss till you put the pennies
on my eyes. The de il told the truth after all.
[FENELLA, breahingfrain her slu or, starts to lee, WASKA
stumbles to his feet, rearing, and chases her among
the tainhs. She tritis and falls. He eatehes her up
anu' carries her to the ion/er. They disu pear
Stop your shrie ing, harlot! You’ll only dri e the
fol away! Ah! we’ll ha e a ne new story of Boles ine
gra eyard.
Satan! Satan Satan I than thee! Thou hast ept
! !

thy word and I’ll eep mine!

Satan Satan Satan Oh, the bliss! Fenella, mine,
! ! !

mine! Fenella !

[He thrusts the earþse afFENELLA haifz‘hrough the window,

where it hangs [uni
Mine she was, by God, though I’m dead this hour!
[He comes ont, staggering, fails o er 0 wound, crawls on
hands 0110' hnees to his gra e.
Satan! what a morsel! what a bonne bouche! What a
sa oury to wind up life’s feast!
Well, here’s my cof n. There‘s no place li e home. I
must play my own dirge. [He seals himself in it.
[He ta es the iolin, 0110151095 0 a’irge.
This time it’s the real thing. No play, no pay. I’ e had
my fun, and here's the price of it. [He ;5/0315 again.
And now Good night.
[Ciaspzng the ddle to his breast, he lies down in the ea n.
Silence then the death-rattle. WASKA haif rises, and
‫י‬,?

fails dead. A pause

[Euler THE M‘ALISTER, at the gate.
u M 177
 THE EQUINOX
THE M'ALISTER. Too much shrie ing and ddling from my
pretty little ghoul. I wonder what’s happened.
[He enters ihe gra eyard, and approaches the gra e.
Nobody here I Who‘s that?
[Bends o er the corpse of GEORGE, and e amine: it.
Why, you’re dead, my poor, putrid poopstic ‘ Died of
too much brains—I don’t thin ‘ [Goes π siege to lower.
Good Godl Fenella! What are you doing there?
[He ta es her homo .
Dead, too. Died of too much—temperament, I’m betting.
Well, there’s nothing ali e here but the ddle.
I’ll follow my usual rule and obey the Scriptural in unction
to let the dead bury their dead. But I'm heritor of this
gra eyard, and I thin I’ll inherit this ddle.
[He þan : 1/ into 1/5 ease, lur : it under his arm, and goes
auf.
All right, Shi a! Nothing the matter! Home, boy!
[He Sim/1‘5 to whisfle a fig.

CURTAIN
 THE FOUR WINDS
THE South wind said to the palms:
My lo ers sing me psalms ;
But are they as warm as those
That Laylah’s lo er nows ?
The North wind said to the rs:
I ha e my worshippers;
But are they as een as hers ?
The East wind said to the cedars :

My friends are no seceders;

But is their faith to me
As rm as his faith must be?
The West wind said to the yews :

My children are pure as dews;

But what of her lo er’s muse?
So to spite the summer weather
The four winds howled together.
But a great Voice from abo e
Cried : What do you now of lo e?
Do you thin all Nature worth
The littlest life upon earth?
79
 THE EQUINOX
I made the germ and the ant,
The tiger and elephant

In the least of these there is more

Than your elemental war.

And the lo ers whom ye slight

Are precious in my sight.

Peace to your mischief—brewing l

I lo e to watch their wooing.

Of all this Laylah heard

Ne er a word.

She lay beneath the trees

With her lo er at her nees
He sang of God abo e
And of lo e.

She lay at his side

Well satis ed,

And at set of sun

They were one.
Before they slept her pure smile curled;
“ God bless all lo ers in the World! ”

And so say I the self—same word ;

Nor doubt God heard.

180
 INDEPENDENCE
COME to my arms—is it e e? is it morn?
15 Apollo awa e? Is Diana reborn?
Are the streams in full song? Do the 'woods whisper hush
Is it the nightingale? Is it the thrush?
Is it the smile of the autumn, the blush
Of the spring? Is the world full of peace or alarms?
Come to my arms, Laylah, come to my arms!

Come to my arms, though the hurricane blow.

Thunder and summer, or winter and snow,
It is one to us, one, while our spirits are curled
In the crimson caress: we are fond, we are furled
Li e lilies away from the war of the world.
Are there spells beyond ours? Are there alien charms ?
Come to my arms, Laylah, come to my arms!

Come to my arms! is it life? is it death?

Is not all immortality born ο your breath?
Are not hea en and hell but as handmaids of yours
Who are all that en ames, who are all that allures,
Who are all that destroys, who are all that endures ?
1 am
yours, do I care if it heals me or harms?
Come to my arms, Laylah, come to my arms !

181
SNOWSTORM
A TRAGEDY
BY

ALEISTER CROWLEY
PERSONS REPRESENTED IN THE PROLOGUE

HERMANN, (m Old Wuodmtter

GRI EL, his l/sze
DANIEL, Gram; in the Stab/:: of ERIK, Prime ofFiard/and
 SNOWSTORM
PROLOGUE
The soene re resents the cottage of the woodeutter. [t is
surrounded by an in nity of ‫ ?;ח ש‬trees, gi ing an im-
ression ofgreat dreariness and monotony, The cottage,
on the contrary, is e tremely cheerful, almost gay
Lo ing care has heen employed to decorate it and to eep
it e cellently tidy. There is only a ery small clearing
about the rot/age, and a natural þath through the wood
The daylight is slowly fading throughout the scene.
Enter by the þath the woodehtter and his wife, whose names
are HERMANN and GRI EL. They carry hea y loads of
wood.
HERMANN. Terrible hard times. The days and the ways
get longer, and the wood harder to cut, and harder to sell.
GRI EL. Ay. But the fowls do well. And they do say
the Prince may come to the lodge again soon.
HERMANN. For a day or two. What’s that?
GRI EL. And then there’s always George,
HERMANN. Yes; he’s head waiter now.
GRI EL. I mistrusted the lad’s going to the big town.
Terrible dangerous are those cities for an honest boyl
I85
 THE EQUINOX
HERMANN. Oh! he’s a good lad. He’s doing well.
GRI EL, He will soon ha e a beer—house of his own.
HERMANN. Ah that's as may be.
[

[They throw down their wood by the door of the galiuge.

GRI EL. He's our own good lad.
[She goes in and busz'es herself with the/ire, etc.
HERMANN. What's for supper to-night, lass ?
GRI EL. Peas and bacon. And some of the beer George
sent us.
HERMANN. Good! Good! . . . .
It's a hard life, lass, woodcutting. Do you mind the day
we wed ?
GRI EL. Nigh thirty years ago. Ye were going to be the
Prince’s Forester, I mind.
HERMANN. Ah, youth! Life is harder than our dreams
tell us.
GRI EL. That’s you men. You must always be dreaming.
Cowards, I call you.
HERMANN. No, lass, I see the hardness of life ust as
much as you do. There's only one thing good enough to
ta e us through it. And that’s lo e.
GRI EL, Ay, lad.
HERMANN. We’ e ne er fallen out, lass?
GRX EL. Imind the rst day ye laid the shaft of the big
a e to my bac .
HERMANN. Summer lightning, lass. I ga e ye no more
than ye deser ed.
GRI EL.Ah!
HERMANN, Το dance with a low blac smith! Damn ye,
ye were aye a forward wench.
186
 SNOWSTORM
GRI EL. And what of the fair at Stormwald last month?
[She light: the lamþ 111 the coliage.
HERMANN. Ay, in Stormwald the girls are ne.
GRI EL. If I did clout ye with the re—sho el, ye de—
ser ed it.
HERMANN. No harm, lass, no harm if the girls of Storm—
wald now a proper man.
GRI EL. Bah ye white-headed old sinner. Do ye thin I’m
!

afraid of them? And you no better than (she comes ou! of the
cottage) this old bundle of wood. Drybones!
HERMANN. We’ e been happy, lass.
[She sit: 011 the humile of wood hy his side.
GRI EL. Ay, lad, lo e's all in life.
HERMANN. It's something to loo bac on, now that the
twilight gathers.
GRI EL. With you, lad, I don’t fear the dar .
HERMANN. George is a ne boy,
GRI EL. If only Gretel had not died.
HBRMANN. God nows best, dear lass !

GRI EL. Ay, God nows best. But I wish he wouldn‘t

interfere.
HERMANN. Lass I Lass !

GRI EL. Ye don’t understand. A man’s aye ready with his

God. A wife cares naught for God or for her man, but only
for her bairns. [HERMANN 15 hegz'nhihg to weeþ.
It's good you can weep still. You had a true heart, a
woman’s heart. Ye old fool!
[She hrushes away her 071m tears.
HERMANN. Always my own goodwifel Har ! There’s a
horse in the forest.
187
 THE EQUINOX
GRI EL. Some fool of 3 forester.
HERMANN. A forester wouldn’t come here at this time ο’
night.
GRI EL. Here he is, whoe er it is.
[A oice of. " Haio—ho! Goodman waodmtter, do
you [I' e underground .? "
HERMANN (ca/ ing). Ta e the path to your left. Tie up
your horse at the turning.
GRI EL. What did I tell you? The prince is coming to
the lodge and we shall sell all our wood!
HERMANN. Ihope we may. . , . Here he comes. You’re
right, maybe. It’s the prince’s li ery. [Enter DANIEL.
DANIEL. Tum—ti-um-ti-um-tum I Good day and be damned
to you, goodmanl
HERMANN. What d’ye want?
Fine day, sir.
DANIEL. Logs, wooden-head! Great, fat, roaring pine—logs,
oozing with sap! Logs, by God, and ho! for the bonny
winter!
HERMANN. Ay! so the Prince is come hunting.
DANIEL. No, you old rascal. Mind your own business!
Do you thin I am the trusted con dant of His Highness
through blabbing his affairs?
HERMANN. Beg pardon, E cellency! I mistoo your
E cellency for that damned, Cheating groom, Daniel.
DANIEL. You old ruf anl Well, shut your head, and bring
the logs up.
HERMANN. When ?
DANIEL. Now.
HERMANN. All right. (Ca/ls.) Wife, shoulder the biggest
bundle of logs up to the lodge.
I88
 SNOWSTORM
GRI EL (within). All right.
HERMANN. And what‘s the news of the Court?
DANIEL. Nothing beyond the usual, goodman. The
Princess is so—so—so—so. The Du e left last wee . We' e
been dull, dull.
HERMANN. And what’s the madcap Prince been up to?
DANIEL. Our good Prince is busied as e er with the high
cares of the Fatherland.
GRI EL, Nasty, tric y, little beast, I thin I do! Always
after the girls.
DANIEL. Insolent woman! His Highness is de oted as
e er to the Princess Maud.
GRI EL. None of your theatre girls, all legs, oh no!
HERMANN. Hold your scolding tongue, woman! Get the
gentleman a glass of beer!
[She pm: down the load and goes in,
DANIEL. Than s, good man. Well, between oursel es,
man and man, I don’t mind telling you, there’s a air old
how—d’ye—do.
HERMANN. Ah! I thought that now.
DANIEL. A real amboree! A good old buster!
HERMANN. Ha! Ha!
DANIEL. That‘s really what we’re here for. I’m telling
you. Oh yes, I’m telling you! Lord God Almighty! It’s a
rare old in ytoodlerayl
HERMANN. Ha! Ha! Ha! Ha!
DANIEL. Three wee s ago we were on horsebac .
HERMANN. Ay!
DANIEL. Outside the Opera.
HERMANN. Ho!
 THE EQUINOX
DANIEL. In a dar little street off the A elstrade.
HERMANN. Hillo-ho!
DANIEL. Mas ed.
HERMANN. Whew!
DANIEL. Jee! Armed.
Armed!
HERMANN.
DANIEL. Το the teeth.
HERMANN. Whew,
DANIEL. With a led horse.
HERMANN. He! He!
DANIEL. And we stopped the carriage of pretty Nerissa
Wadlstern, and idnapped her — What d'ye thin 0’
that ?
HERMANN. Ye gay young de ils! Well, I‘ e done as
much myself in my day.
DANIEL. So we dragged her off screaming, and ha e been
eeping out of the way e er since. Oh! I tell you she was a
tigress; but he made her lo e him, somehow, So we’re
coming bac into society. A month’s hunting at the Lodge
here, for the rst step.
[Euler GRI EL with the 686 T ey al! ahin/e.
HERMANN. And what does the Princess say to it?
DANIEL. Ha en’t heard. But I suppose she’s about crazy
mad.
GRI EL.So she might be, with her waster ofa husband.
HERMANN. Oh! he’s a good Prince. But perhaps his
wife’s a Tartar li e some I now!
DANIEL. Here, none of your insolence to their Highnesses !

Than s, goodman, I'll be off. Hurry up to the lodge with

those logs l [Goes (if
190
 SNOWSTORM
HERMANN. Ay! I’ll load the mule now!
GRI EL. What mule d’ye mean?
HERMANN. The cross-tempered, two—legged beast !
[He pie/ ; ‫ ?ן‬6!/‫ שחש‬and fut: z'! on her bac . She
drops it, and, canning up a faggot, be/aboztrs
him. He ultimate/y gets it from hee, and returns
her blows. During the ght they interchange
7116711541 / ”‫ש‬:?
HERMANN. Old scarecrow!
GRI EL. Cross-eyed old Satyr!
HERMANN. Wizened witch !

GRI EL. Pig-dog!

HERMANN‘ Humped 016 sow!
GRI EL. I’ll ma e ye grin the other side of your face, ye
mon ey!
HERMANN. Blac —faced 016 sca enger !

GRI BL. Pot—bellied beerswillerl

HERMANN, Ye blasted lying 016 whore! Ta e that!
GRI EL. Dirty bastard White-headed old crocodile!
!

[Bath being aut of breafn, ihey si! down and begin

to cry‘
HERMANN. I meant no harm, wife, but you angered
me.
Ay! it’s always my fault.
GRI EL.
HERMANN. No, lass. It was that lthy fellow from the
lodge that came between us.
GRI EL. The breath 01 a Court is ruin to simple
happiness.
HERMANN. Well, iss, lass!

191
 THE EQUINOX
GRI EL. There, lad! [They iss,
And now, we’d better get the wood up to the lodge.
[They each ‫ ?שמש‬a bundle and mo e amine/y !
And now, what was he telling you about the Prince?
HERMANN. Ah that’s a State secret!
[At comer ofþal/z.
GRI EL. Well, you’ll ha e to tell me! [E ./eunt.

192
 PERSONS REPRESENTED IN ACT I

ERIK, Prime of Hem/land

MAUD, his Wtfe
NERISSA, a Violinist
HEINDRIK, ‫ ( ?!ן‬α α of Infantry, attached to the‘oerson of the Primes:
FOUR OFFICERS, unior to Heindn'h
GUSTAVE, Con dential Ser ant to Eri
DANIEL, a Groom to Eri

ACT I
WINTER

A northern country. A lodge in the forest.

There is a
glass ontonilding, lu uriously furnished and decorated.
A dining-tahle with two chairs. Two lounge chairs
and a smaller fgh/e.
PRINCE ERIC and NERISSA ha e ust nished dinner, and
are chatting inana’ioly, leaning across the too/e. He
isses her.
The Steward GUSTAVE enters with eof ze and lioueurs which
he flaees on the small table. He goes out.
The PRINCE tahes NERISSA under his arm to the lounge
chairs. On the way they pass the door, go into the
garden, loo/ up at the shy, and shi er.
ERIK. Snow to—night, snow-maiden!
NERISSA. Yes.
VII N 193
 THE EQUINOX
ERIK. But . . . [He points to the house.
NERISSA. Yes. [She laughs.
ERIK, Let us go in.
[He ta es her to theirs, where they sit and drinh
tofee, ete.
Enter L., on 0175667 in furs, HEINDRIK. He watches them
for a while in silence, ma es a sign of warning to
some one in the buehgrouna’, anu' retires discreet/31.
[ERIK touches a hell. Enter GUSTAVE.
ERIK. Put out the big lights.
GUSTAVE. Yes, Highness.
[He goes out and iloes so. In the balcony is only the rosy
glow of shorted lai/iþ: in the roof
[Enter HEINDRIK, L. This time he hee/zone to his eomfonions.
[Enter PRINCESS MAUD. She is militet! in o’er/e furs.
Four o ioersfollow. They are among the pines
HEINDRIK. Your Highness was perfectly right.
MAUD. I cannot see properly. I must see with my own
eyes.
HEINDRIK. Your Highness should not enture nearer.
MAUD. I must see.
HBINDRIK. Then let us creep through the pines and watch
from behind the fountain.
MAUD [with a gesture ofhuughty disgust . Ah—h! . . .
Lead on. [They go through the pines and stand watching.
MAUD. I cannot see yet. Let us go to the doorway.
HEINDRIK. It is dangerous, Highness.
MAUD. I am dangerous. [She goes stealthilyforworol anu'
neels ot the door, loo/ging through. HEINDRIK follows her.
He has drawn his sword. ERIK and NERISSA are now in eueh
!94
 SNOWSTORM
other’s anus. MAUD noa’s and rises ; they retire to the
fountain
MAUD. So! I ha e seen. Is e erything prepared?
HEINDRIK. Your Highness will nd e erything in order.
[.4 buying ofgreat houna’s.
HEINDRIK. Bac , Highness!
[They a’z’saffear among the pines, and go of L.
ERIK. The dogs are uneasy to-night. I am uneasy. I am
going to nish my cigar in the forest. No; you must not
come. My snow-maiden will ta e cold.
[He hz'sses har and goes into the house, presently ?0015150111-
zng c. with three tnnnense grey boarhouna’s on leash.
He [noses them; they soain er about and return at
his whistle
ERIK. Gusta e!
[Enteu GUSTAVE c. ERIK throws the leash to him.
GUSTAVE leashes them anaI goes of c. ERIK goes to
window, and watches NERISSA, who is lying 0010/8 half
aslee . Then he opens algor, and cal/5.
ERIK. Nerissa! [She/nines ‫י‬11 ?

NERISSA. Eri !
ERIK. Get your ddle, dewdrop! I want you to play me
"
the Abendlied.” [She runs into house.
ERIK [sings :
.'Twas I that found the icicle on the lip of the cre asse:
'Twas I that found the gentian on the mountain pass:
’Twas I that found the re to melt the maiden of the
snow :

’Twas I that pluc ed the ower—and I wear it, so!

[Placing his hand on his heart.
195
 THE EQUINOX
Nerissa drew the crystal spring from the music wells that
slumbered;
Nerissa drew my tears till the angels were outnumbered ;
And I with trapper's forest-lore, and sher’s craft and Wiles,
Hunted the shy bird of her soul, a secret spring of smiles.
[Snow begins to fall slowly in the garden.
The April dawn of lo e awo e Nerissa’s snowy mountain;
The sun of passion thawed at last the frozen fountain;
And I, who shared a sterile throne, share now a blissful bower——
Nerissa, oh Nerissa! God preser e this hour!
[He sees NERISSA has returned and is standing at the
door
ERIK. Go in, child! It is cold. See, the snow is begin—
ning to fall.
[He oins her. They enter. He lee s and halts the door.
ERIK throws himself into a chair
ERIK. Now, sweetheart, the “Abendlied.”
[NERISSA plays. Daring her erfornianee HEINDRIK has
again enterea’ stealthily, and watches
ERIK. And now!
[He ta/zes NERISSA into home, and switches of light.
HEINDRIK gi es 11 warning sign to his companions.
The light goes up in the room abo e. Enter c.,
GUSTAVE, ad ances uietly to fonntain, ana’ stands
waiting. HEINDRIK whistles softly
GUSTAVE. Ad ance. All is safe.
[HEINDRIK ad ances. They greet each other, out without
sha ing hands
GUSTAVE. Ha e you the money?
HEINDRIK. Here.
196
 SNOWSTORM
GUSTAVE. Let me count it.
[He presse: the spring of rm 81881718 loa/eh, and e amines
ihe bug which HEINDRIK hamis ta mm.
GUSTAVE. A thousand, two, three, four—no, e, si ,
se en. Don’t be so suspicious, Captain, I shall not run away.
Ten. Right. And the gold? Ah, the olly rouleau . It is
in order.
HEINDRIK. The ey.
GUSTAVE. Here it is. [Gi es it. And the stuff for the dogs?
HEINDRIK. Poor Tiger, and Baresar , and Odinl
[Gi es a pac et.
GUSTAVE. One doesn’t ma e omelettes without brea ing
eggs. I will be ready for you in ten minutes.
HEINDRIK. There are two cars on the road. Yours is the
small one. Your passage is ta en. That and your passports
are with the dri er.
GUSTAVE. Right. I will see to Daniel and the dogs.
Keep out of sight.
HEINDRIK. I will wait among the pines.
[He 78117854 GUSTAVE 781117115 la home.
[Ehier NERISSA 111 her night/ es: a! window abo e, 'wz'th
her m'a/in.
ERIK. Well, snow-maiden, are you still angry with me for
stealing you ?
NBRISSA. I lo ed myself. But now I lo e you.
ERIK [sings :

Ο who on the mountain

Would tremble and shi er?
The spray’s on the fountain;
The sun’s on the ri er.
I97
 THE EQUINOX
The elds are ablush,
And the alley’s alight.
Come! let us crush
Out the wine of delight!
The thaw sends the torrent
Its Bacchanal dance;
The snows that the thaw rent
Glitter and glance.
The garden’s a wonder
Of colour impearlecl;
The spring draws asunder
Its woe from the world.
Come, 0 my maiden,
Into the woods!
The owers, dew-laden,
Sha e light from their hoods.
Dance to the measure
Of Bacchus and Pan
Primae al, the pleasure
Of maiden and man !

[NERISSA plays a [ow-50mg on her inim, then 707 /‫?תשש‬

the window. The light goes out
ERIK. Nerissa !
[En/er GUSTAVE c. with DANIEL, who ‫?ן‬
leading a horse,
saddled
GUSTAV ;Ta e this order to the merchant at Stormwald.
If you ride bac at dawn you will be in plenty of time for
your wor .
198
 SNOWSTORM
DANIEL. Hal Hal Hal Hal Ha!
GUSTAVE. Ride fast, Daniel.
DANIEL. Ohl I shall ha e to pull the old fellow out of bed.
GUSTAVB. Pull his house down, if you li e, as long as we
ha e the champagne in time for brea fast
[DANIEL leafs on Me horse [md M'a’es R. GUSTAVE waits
a minute, Mm ad ances to pines L. HEINDRIK meets
him,
GUSTAVE. All well.
HEINDRIK. Be off with you, then. And don’t ma e too
much of a splash in Paris with all that money.
GUSTAVE. I am not such a fool. And don’t you be such a
fool as to get slac with that little monthly che ue, you now.
HEINDRIK. Don’t you be frightened about money.
GUSTAVE. You’re a bit white. What are you frightened of?
HEINDRIK. Only ghosts.
GUSTAVE. Ah, they wal in your forests.
HEINDRIK. We are doing a ile thing. Necessary, as I
suppose most ile things are.
GUSTAVE. Oh, you ha e a conscience! Consciences wal
in your forests.
HEINDRIK. I’ e a heart as well as a sense of duty.
GUSTAVE. Yes, she’s a pretty girl.
HEINDRIK. And it was ne er her fault.
GUSTAVE. It's ne er the woman’s fault in your forests. 0
race of sentimentalists!
HEINDRIK. He too her as a hound catches a hare.
GUSTAVE. In France “ Jugged Hare” is a concoction of cat.
HEINDRIK. Well, this is not France. France is where you
belong, you.
99
 THE EQUINOX
GUSTAVE. Good luc to your hunting!
HEINDRIK. Good luc !
GUSTAVE. I ha e it uite safe in your little bag. Good—bye,
Heindri . I suppose you despise me. [HEINDRIK z': silent.
Well, you now, you too must wait for histories to be written
before you get much praise,
HEINDRIK. My duty is clear. I am not as ing for praise
GUSTAVE. All my little need is money.
HEINDRIK. You ha e earned thirty pieces of sil er. Be offl
It is time to act.
[E it GUSTAVE, L. ln a momem‘ HEINDRIK gi e: a sig/z,
mm’ MAUD and Me four o/f rs re—em‘er from among
!!!6151146541
MAUD. Now!
HEINDRIK. Highness, your waiting is o er.
MAUD. At last. This snow!
HEINDRIK. It hides our footsteps, Highness. May God's
mercy co er our deeds.
MAUD. Insolent! This is the second time you ha e re-
proached me. A third, and 1 brea you.
HEINDRIK. Pardon, Highness! I now my duty, and I
shall do it.
MAUD. It is I who am wronged, is it not?
HEINDRIK. Ah, Highness, forgi e me! I am your High-
ness’s faithful ser ant. But—do we wipe out one wrong by
doing another?
MAUD. It is right, what we do, by the law of God and man.
HEINDRIK. Then why do I feel it to be wrong?
MAUD. You are a wea fool. Do your duty!
HEINDRIK. I obey, Highness.
200
 SNOWSTORM
MAUD. Without another word.
HEINDRIK. I obey, Highness. Το the death.
[HEINDRIK and other αν;
go out c. MAUD þaee: the
gronna’ impatient/y. The lights go n15, ahone; there
15 a 50111101 of oaths 111111 staffing, and a strewn
MAUD. Ah! Ah! [raising her oice . Is it done?
HEINDRIK [opens window wide . We ha e the prisoners,
Highness.
MAUD. Bring the girl here to me.
HEINDRIK. Yes, Highness.
[He reaþpears c. with NERISSA, who wears a staa/a
MAUD. Did I tell you to cloa her?
HEINDRIK [reþresses his :þeeeh . No, Highness.
MAUD. Ta e it off.
[HEINDRIK hesitates NERISSA och/antes, nnd ing: her
e/oa/a upon the ground at MAUD's feet. She is again in
her nighta’ress
MAUD. You wretched agabond! You gutter creature !

Off to the woods with you Off, baggage

!

trembling.
[NERISSA 511211115

There are plenty of street—corners in Stormwald. Off,

you harlot! [She raises her hand to stri/ee her.
[HEINDRIK interfusa between them, draw: hinzsetfnp, and
salute: MAUD / ?
HEINDRIK. My duty to you, Madam !

[He draws his re ol er, and shoots himself, tnmbh'ng at

her feet nþon NERISSA'S eioah. NERISSA, terrih/y
frightened, 5616011115 and run: of“ into the forest. MAUD
spurns the hoa’y of HEINDRIK with her foot. The
light: aho e go out. A tame, MAUD waiting in stern
201
 THE EQUINOX
silente. Euler the four of cers with PRINCE ERIK
bound oma’ gagged.
MAUD. Ta e that gag out! [They obey Now, Eri , you
are coming bac to the Palace.
ERIK. What ha e you done with Nerissa?
MAUD. Pah The wench ran into the woods—to loo for
men, I suppose. There were none in the garden
ERIK. You she-de il Oh God God, help me to a enge
l !

this night on youl

MAUD. Vengeance! You paltry creature; one new pretty
face is enough. Ne t wee you’ll ha e forgotten all about
your— ddle-prostitute.
ERIK. God help me to a enge this night on you
MAUD [to the of cers Ta e him to the car You can come
1

bac here and hide this fool’s folly.

[She limi: HEINDRIK 01/27” with her mt.
THE OFFICER. Yes, Highness
[They go out. The four o feers return, if! the corpse
of HEINDRIK, which they co er with NERISSA’S cloah,
They gu oiit. A fame. The mow cease: to fall.
The mooh else: c, through the fittest lii the dis/anie
is heam' the how/mg of iz lonely wolf

CURTAIN.

202
 ACT II
SCENE I: The Capital of 72 !!!/‫?!?ן ש‬ Two years and si
mon/h: later.
PRINCE ERIK
OLAF AND KARL, two Noble:
Offen 0/ l!i.? Suite
THE PRINCESS MAUI). HELENA, 1227 c mþzmz' n
27 /‫ ??ת שמשמ‬Beer-drin ers. A Flower Girl
NERISSA

A ₪87/‫?” ן‬ of are en oying Me afternoon sunshine

Some walla (md “ α , others si! and drin .
A DRINKER. [Siege The North has a thousand beauties, and
the South has only one.
But we ha e borrowed a splinter from the spear of
Captain Sun.
We ha e trees as green as their trees;
We ha e apple trees and pear trees !
We ha e girls as sweet as their girls ;

We ha e a en girls and air girls—

And chestnut girls and auburn girls—
And dar er girls with ra en curls!
We do not en y their monotony
Of a nigger for lo e and a palm-tree for botany!
[The guesis of her-hausse ‫[ ?”?שש‬md beat tables.
203
 THE EQUINOX
2 DRINKER. Bra o! Bra o!
4 DRINKER. Hullo! Here comes Prince Eri
3 DRINKER. With Karl and Olaf; I was with them at
Heidelberg.
4 DRINKER. Oh! we now you're the dear friend of e ery-
body with a title But how shortsighted your friends are !

[ERIK, OLAF, mm’ KARL pass o er Mallia/lg.

FLOWER GIRL. A pansy for your button-hole, my prince !

ERIK. [Smiles aha’ acre/is it Heart’s—ease to you, my child.

[OLAF hands her a an‘h.
FLOWER GIRL [curing/5 Than s, noble prince. [To OLAF.
A thousand than s, my lord.
[She runs of, laughing, to ofher cusfomers.
2 DRINKER [5152755 3 DRINKER haw/e . But you were really
intimate with that Italian Count, Conte Alcesto—or was it
Alcestissimo ?—-Rigo de Righi de Righissimo. Where is
he now?
4 DRINKER. “ Where are the snows of yester—year?”
2 DRINKER. " All, all are gone, the old familiar faces."
3 DRINKER. I must be going to the Kurhaus. [EA/it.
2 DRINKER. Mr Count cost him more orins than he could
count !

I DRINKER [rings . A bumble—bee buzzed in my ear:

You cannot drin honey drin beer!
;

Now the wise men of earth

Cannot measure the girth
Of the brain of that brilliant bee!
Bring a boo I bring a boc !

Hang sherry and hoc !

Light Lager’s the tipple for me !

204
 SNOWSTORM
THE WAITER. Hush, sir. The Princess is coming down
the street. The second erse won’t do.
I DRINKER. Oh, we’ll eep the second erse for after dinner.
THE WAITER. And here’s the blind ddler, coming down
yonder to the bridge. [Poz'm‘ of L.
2 DRINKER. What, the girl?
THE WAITER. Yes, Snowstorm.
A GUEST 61113/‫ ?ש ש‬with a mar/zed foreign ament , Why,
she is uite ayoung girl. But her hair is as white as your
s ies.
THE WAITER. Yes, sir, that‘s why we call her Snowstorm.
But it wasn’t always white—it was gold, the pale gold of our
Fiordland sun; and her blind eyes were pale and blue and
spar ling as our Fiordland seas.
GUEST. And as treacherous, perhaps.
WAITER. No, sir. She was a good girl. These gentlemen
will tell you there was ne er a word against her.
I DRINKER. Why, whowas she? Idon’t recognise heratall.
2 DRINKER. Nor I.
4 DRINKER. Nor I. I seem to now her wal .
WAITER. Ah, she only came here two days ago. But I
now her story. No, sir, I had better not say all I now.
But I‘ll tell you this. A ealous woman threw her into the
forest at night in a snowstorm, with only a rag of a night-
gown on her bac . My father was a woodcutter. He found
her in the morning, e hausted in the snow. And when she
saw him she got up and ran, screaming. She too him for a
wolf.
2 DRINKER. Good Godl
WAITER. But he too her to the hut, and my mother tended
205
 THE EQUINOX
her for o er ayear. I saw her last summer‘ When Father
ο nd her the hair was ust as it is now; but it was the long
illn ess that left her blind.
1 DRINKER. Good God! What a chilly story! Can she
play the ddle at all?
VVAITER. You shall hear her and udge for yourself, Sir.
2 DRINKER. There she comes, o er the bridge.
[Enter R., the PRINCESS MAUD and HELENA with two wait-
ing-women anal L., the PRINCE with KARL, OLAF, anol
his o eers. They meet ana’ ehat arnieahly. MAUD
nods, rather furti e/y, to HELENA, who slits away, and
resently nds herself in front of stage with OLAF.
They ha e their bat/es to the audiente,
HELENA. I always lo e that old house [pointing .
OLAF. That one ? [painting .
[Meanwhile she has assea’ a note from her right hanol to
his left hehina’ their hae/es.
HELENA. Yes, that one.
OLAF. So do I.
[MAUD has ta/aen ERIK’s arm and wirth-eat of with him L.,
They follow
2 DRINKER. Than God 1
We can stretch our legs again.
[They methe themsel es comfortable.
I DRINKER. And here comes
your fairy ddler!
[Enter NERISSA, L., groting her way. Reaching c., she
tel/ee: her etzt/e and hegins to þtay a ig. A tt rise and
(lame ronna’ her, the a’rin/eers with the π ι”! women
and eocattes. The ower girl, in front of stage,
does aþa: sent. 2 and 4. DRINKERS oin her, and a
peasant girl ma es the faar/h in an eccentric and
206
 SNOWSTORM
outrageous uae/elle. The music stops. All stoþ,
laughing 0411482/ ‫?מ”מ‬
I DRINKER. Well played, little girl! A ripping dance!
2 DRINKER. Topping, by Jo e.
4 DRINKER. Now, gentlemen, here’s my hat. Florins or
little what's—her-name P—little Snowstorm.
THE WAITER. Ma e it up to a thousand orins, gentlemen,
I DRINKER. A thousand orins!

WAITER. She could earn that, once.

I DRINKER. By Diogenes, you’re as drun as Da id’s sow!
WAITER. Play us something else, Snowstorm. Play us your
best.
2 DRINKER. Yes! Play another dance!
NERISSA. Life isn’t all dancing, sir.
2 DRINKER. No, by Jo e, I suppose your life isn’t.
4 DRINKER. Thunder! Nobody’s is!
NERISSA. I will play you from Bach,
[Sheþ/ays. A!! are hushed m ‫שמש‬/‫ ?; ששח‬At the las!
few ham re—euter L., ERIK with KARL (md twn ( ner;
They simul mm’ “. ERIK 5?!/ );? KARL’s shnu/u’er
mm" Sluggers. She emis. All app/amt
KARL. What is it, sir.
ERIK. Nothing. Tell that girl to play again.
KARL [udwuez‘ug . Mademoiselle, you ha e the honour to
be commanded to play before His Highness.
NERISSA. I will platy—I will play for the Prince
[She z': sez'zeu’ with u storm f eIIzo iou. [Wasterihg herself,
she hegzus the " Serenade.” But she z‘remh/es so
ielem/y that the music is marred. As She gees ah
she reco ers herself, when suddenly her E string maps
207
 THE EQUINOX
NERISSA. l am so sorry, your Highness. My Ε string is
bro en.
is not ery near her, or he might recognise her oice.
[ERIK
Ne er mind another time. Gi e her a gold piece,
ERIK. ;

Karl, [KARL gi es her money. ERIK mo es of with him.

ERIK. She can’t play at 2111, Karl! Funny; that rst piece
sounded so well in the distance, [Tha/ go ofR.
NERISSA [in a faint oice Eri l
THE WAITER. Loo out, gentlemen, she is going to faint.
[He eornesfor-wdrd, mt in time to mich her in his arms.
He carries her into the heer—honse 015 the CURTAINfat/5.

SCENE II: The same afternoon. THE GROUNDS OF THE PALACE.

[t z': aformalgarden, with hedges. There nre a anese
aiþa/esses, and roses in bloom.
Behind, a terrace with hdlnstrnde, and step" lending to garden.
A summer-house in one corner. Statuary In the bac/e—
gronnd, the Palace wot/[5.
PRINCE ERIK
KARL
OLAF
PRINCESS MAUD
HELENA, waiting—weme" to the Primes:

In the summer-house are MAUD and HELENA, sinohing

cigarettes.

HELENA. Is not this dangerous, madam?

MAUD.To see Olaf here? Pshaw! It is nothing I do
things a thousand times more dangerous.
208
 SNOWSTORM
HELENA. But why do it at all?
MAUD. It is farewell. The man bores me. And he begins
to gi e himself airs.
HELENA. He begins to e pect.
MAUD. Which is the psychological moment to disappoint.
Oh, Helena! if you new my heart! It is impossible to
understand me. It is Eri that I lo e. Eri is the only
man I e er cared or—so much! [5/12 maþs !167 ngers
These boys! Damn them all, and their homage and their
impudence. It is only Eri that I lo e.
HELENA. Yes, Madam.
MAUD. I now you thin I am lying. I now you only
understand irtation. You do not understand re enge and
despair.
HELENA. I ha e not a Queen’s heart, madam.
MAUD. Do you understand? I ne er forget that my father
is an emperor. Eri does not lo e me. In all his boyish
follies I belie e he had one lo e—that ddling harlot that I
threw to the wol es. Ah that was my night ofperfect passion.
!

HELENA. I understand lo e. I do not understand hate.

MAUD. Then you do not understand lo e. . . . Why is
Olaf late?
HELENA. There is someone on the terrace, now.
[ERIK and KARL guter L. 011 fem/ace.
MAUD. Loo !
HELENA [1556165 ₪32/ !!!? rmy’ of summer-house, Siamz’z'ng
on the sea/ . It is the Prince and Count Karl.
MAUD. Hush then! Let us be smo ing!
[They 765 /‫ ?! ץש‬cigarettes.
ERIK. I tell you, Karl, I am sic . I am sic of life.
VII ο 209
 THE EQUINOX
KARL.You were merry enough at tennis.
And then I saw that blind girl. It was a memory.
ERIK.
For half a second her playing reminded me of something
that—that—I ha e—forgotten. Karl! I am a prince. I ha e
been treated li e a dog; and I ha e ne er a enged myselff
and the woman I lo ed.
KARL. A enge yourself now!
ERIK. She is too strong for me. There is no wea point
in her armour.
KARL. She?
ERIK. Can you not guess? It is the Princess.
KARL. Highness!
ERIK. I hate her—and I am a doll in her hands.
KARL [dropping on one lanee . Highnessl I beg you to
belie e that I am your most de oted ser ant. . . .
ERIK. \Vhy, yes I ne er doubted it. What is it?
1

KARL. I dare not tell your Highness.

ERIK, Yes, spea ! I command you to spea .
KARL. I am not sure—I ha e thought—things ha e
happened. 4 , ,

ERIK. What things?

KARL. Oh, forgi e me! It touches your Highness’s
honour.
ERIK. The more reason I should now.
KARL. It is . . . some ofus thin that her Highness forgets
her duty. 4 4 .

ERIK. Impossible! She is madly ealous of me.

KARL. I was sure I was wrong, your Highness. But——
ERIK. But
KARL. The Lady Helena blabs.
210
 SNOWSTORM
ERIK. A silly, gossiping fool.
KARL. Not in words, Highness. But she bears herself as
if she held great secrets.
ERIK. So do all those in Whom princes put their trust.
Or—don‘t put their trust!
KARL. A lo er of hers went ery suddenly to the Embassy
in Madrid.
ERIK. Well? Ah !— , . Hush! There goes Olaf.
[OLAF entem R., and descehds ‫ ? שי‬bo w'hgfmfmally to ERIK
615 he passes
I see, And then?
KARL. Watch, Highness. Murder will out.
ERIK. I spy on my wife? I ha e my honour to consider.
KARL. A two—edged sword.
ERIK, I can con de only in you. , . . If you should see or
hear anything . . . tell me. Let me thin . The Chancellor
is asafe man: we must tell him . , , I will go now to his
apartment; do you wait for me in the garden,
KARL. Yes, Highness. . . . I trust your Highness will
forgi e me.
ERIK. You ha e gi en me hope, [He gi es KARL his hand.
KARL falls an me nee and isses ii. ERIK gees aut, L. KARL
waif: maoa’ily uþon !he lea/m , sim ih thought, Meanwhile
OLAF has made his way de ious/y to the summ -home. He
6070: aha’ isses the hami of MAUD.
MAUD. Keep guard, Helena! [HELENA goes out (md ‫ ?”ץ‬the
þaih Come, Olaf [She draws him to her, mm’ ta es him in
!

her arms. They i55.

OLAF. Queen! Queen
MAUD. This is farewell.
 THE EQUINOX
I was afraid it was dismissal.
OLAF.
MAUD. Only a holiday. But I lo e you too much. I am
getting rec less People are beginning to tal ,
OLAF. It is my fault, I cannot control myselfwhen I loo
at you.
MAUI). I ha e got you the best command in the South.
You will come up on lea e; we can meet sometimes.
OLAF. God help me. An hour’s absence is torture,
MAUD. A wee 's absence will cure that.
OLAF. Don’t thin it. Don't thin it 1

MAUD. Kiss me! You must go now. This is dreadfully

dangerous. Karl is there on the terrace.
OLAF. Is there no hope or . . .
MAUD. Not till you come bac ! Hush. Helena signals.
[HELENA gi es a hissing “ St " as KARL descends s/eþsJ Kiss
me. Again. Now go. One last iss. Oh, go! Farewell,
my own Olaf !
OLAF. God preser e your Highness—and eep her lo e
for me.
MAUD. Always. Go now.
OLAF. Good—bye. [HELENAeomes bac/z. OLAF 5 /‫?” ן‬
HELENA. Danger. Karl is coming down into the
garden.
MAUD. Damn! . . . Oh! . . , What fun! Helena, hide
yourself. Let him nd me here.
HELENA. Oh! . . . Suppose the Prince comes bac ?
MAUD. Go round the summer—house. Knoc if he comes
out on the terrace.
[HELENA obeys. KARL comes slowly down the garden, deep
in thought. He reaches the Shimmy—house
212
 S N OWSTO RM
MAUD. Come in, Count !
[KARL starts iolent/y.
KARL. Icra e your Highness’s pardon. I had no idea. , . .
MAUD. Boys ne er ha e.
KARL. Ha e? [He '‫ ?ן‬still uite confused and embarrassed.
MAUD. Any ideas, Come in and sit down.
[He , ./ ‫ ?ש‬aw wardly enough.
KARL. I am attered, Highness, to thin that I thought of
coming into the summer—house, e actly as your Highness did.
MAUD, Count, you are paying compliments. One day you
will be old enough to now that women li e to be bullied.
KARL. Your Highness is laughing at me.
MAUD. Of course, but not as you thin . That is the
meaning of the Woman’s Emancipation mo ement. Men
left off beating their wi es—and the germs of discontent were
sown.
KARL. Your Highness is merry.
MAUD. 13111 uite serious The women cannot get their
husbands to beat them any more, or cannot get husbands at
all. So they force the police to arrest them, and force the
doctors to feed them in prison.
KARL. Your Highness is laughing at me.
MAUD. On my honour, I am serious.
KARL. Then your Highness insults my understanding!
MAUD. E actly. I am trying to get you to slap my face.
KARL. I stri e your Highness?
MAUD. Is it not a smooth chee —and in your heart
wouldn‘t you lo e to smac it?
KARL. I would ill the scoundrel who offered to lift . . .
Α . Quite, uite. But it is 1 who am offering. Won‘t
you bo my ears? Just one little one?
213
 THE EQUINOX
KARL. Highness! Highness! You don't now what you
are saying.
MAUD. Just once! . .You men ha e no courage.
KARL. Idare do all that a man should; ifI dared to do
more, I should be less.
MAUD. That is Sha espeare, and uite spoilt. Come! If
you daren't touch my chee with your hand, do you dare with
your lips ?
KARL. I trust I now my duty too well to insult your
Highness.
MAUD. Poor Highness! What is a Queen to do who
wants a silly boy to iss her? You would be forward
enough with a pretty flower girl. . . . I now you. I suppose
I am not pretty enough.
KARL Your Highness is God’s rose.
MAUD. Then why not pic it? One little iss— ust there
—you may.
KARL. Your Highness, I may not.
MAUD. Perhaps you don’t care for women at all?
KARL. I will lo e my lady.
MAUD. But I am not your lady, my lord?
Before God and within my honour—and your
KARL.
Highness’s honour—you are my lady and 1 your humble
ser ant.
MAUD. You are short-sighted.
KARL. I cannot see beyond my duty.
MAUDI Your lady will nd you a most dreadful prigl . . .
᾽
We pay a hea y price for our crowns. Are you not ashamed
of yourself? You entrap me into ma ing lo e to you !

KARL. Before God, Madam. . . .

214
 SNOWSTORM
MAUD. Hush! HushI You mustn’t swear. So you rob
me of all my modesty . . . you ma e me iss you. [Wi/h a
swi mo ement she draws his fate fo hers, mai! hisses him on
the mouth. She /ets him go, and laughs distracted/y a! his
confusion
KARL [so/75mg mm’ sim/iirierihg . Madam, it is high
treason. [MAUD cohiihues lo laugh.
[HELENA gi es a series of shorf hwit/55 oh the woodwor .
MAUD. So it is! And here’s the Prince coming. Run
for it!
Α ... . . . . . . [ Α pushes him om“
MAUD. You fool! Do you want to ruin me?
[KARL sees [he dizhger, ahdg/ides away alo/ig theþalh.
Helena! Come bac uic .
[HELENA !161715 into the summer-house.
MAUD. Oh, what a fool !
Did you e er see such a
fool ?

HELENA. I am terri ed for your Highness. It is madness.

MAUD. No, it’s only Maraschino.
HELENA. People ha e got drun on Maraschino.
MAUD, I should lo e to see him drun .
HELENA. I thin you did.
MAUD. What? Do you really thin so? Really?
HELENA. There isn't a man ali e who wouldn't go mad—
on the wine of your intage. Only the attery of it is enough,
if he were an icicle.
MAUD. Yes, but if you melt an icicle, it only drips away.
He’s only a prig.
HELENA. And if you ta e away all his ideas of faith and
honour—if you shatter his beliefin the goodness of woman . . .
215
 THE EQUINOX
MAUD.There’s nothing left. You’re wrong. He lo es me
no more than—than—than I lo e him!
HELENA. Oh, it’s impossible. There aren’t such men.
MAUD. We shall see. . . Are they gone?
HELENA. No. They‘ e ust met. They’re going up the
Steps together. I thin the Prince notices something.
MAUD. Keep still, then. I wish they’d go. It‘s cold
here.
HELENA. As the mooncalf obser ed, your Highness is
pleased to est.
MAUD. How dare you? Hush l

[ERIK, 0 fen/ace, tum: mm’ holds KARL the show/der and

[00/25 Sharp/y in ₪63/ ‫?ש‬
ERIK. What's the matter?
KARL. I daren’t say. Oh. . . .
ERIK. Who is in the garden? Answer me.
KARL. Her Highness is in the garden.
ERIK. Yes? What has happened?
KARL. Oh, sir, she has made a est of me!
ERIK. Tell me all. What did she do?
KARL. She pretended, your Highness. . . .
ERIK. Answer me, sir! Pretended what?
KARL. She pretended to be . . .
ERIK. To be what?
KARL. To be in 1 . . . To be fond of me, Highness,
ERIK. Truth? What did she say?
KARL. Oh, ust laughing at me. I do not understand what
it all meant.
ERIK. Did she do anything?
KARL. Yes—oh!
216
 SNOWSTORM
ERIK. What?
KARL. She issed me.
ERIK. And you?
KARL. I told her it was high treason,
ERIK. She meant it! She meant it e ery word! You
were right with your gossip. Please God, we’ll ha e her.
Loo here, boy, run bac . Tell her you thought she was 1651-
ing you; tell her you're madly in lo e, and if you die for it,
you must ha e another iss. I’ll be near—No! She’d hear
me or see me. Test her. Get her to ma e an assignation.
Then we‘ll trap her.
KARL. Oh, sir, my honour!
ERIK. Your honour is in my eeping—and by God! mine
is in yours !

KARL. Sir.
ERIC. Go! 13111 your of cer. It is an order. Carry it
out as I would ha e you. It is the honour of Fiordland that is
at sta e!
KARL. 1 obey, Highness. [He mo es mi".
ERIK. Nerissal If your spirit still haunts this earth,
come! Ho erl Witness that your lo er stri es at last.
Re enge—re enge upon that tigress, that barren she—wolf . . .
de ill de il! de il! Nerissal angel. , . angel whom I
dragged from the empyrean, saint whom 1 tore from your
niche, white do e whose wings I soiled . . . be near me!
aid me! aid me to my engeance!
[E it L. KARL he: reached ihe summer-house. He
falls oh his nees. MAUD and HELENA e change
smiles
KARL. Pardon, Highness.
217
 THE EQUINOX
MAUD. This gentleman may ha e some pri ate communi—
cation for me. Lea e us, Helena!
[HELENA goes aut and eeps guda/d as before.
your Highness, how can you pardon me? I
KARL. Oh,
thought you were testing me—perhaps you are testing me—
but if I perish, I lo e you. Iam mad, I lo e you madly,
madly. Now ill me! Call the guards. I lo e you. Let
me once touch the tips of your ngers and then. . , .
Α . Karll my Karl! my own do e. I meant it. I
lo e you. Come to mel Kiss me! I want to feel your
strong arms round me.
[She embmees him. They em. He !11111051 fam/s, for
/ze must allow and 76126772 caress
I cannot hear it! You are illing me. Be uiet; Helena
Will hear. Go now; lea e me ; I am faint.
KARL. And when shallI . . .
MAUD. At midnight, at the estry door of St Hildebrand’s.
KARL. I will be there. My Princess!
MAUD. Karl! Karl! Go uic ly. The last issi till
midnight. Send Helena to me. [He !225565 her, and goes up
terma: mu! a " L. [HELENA returns.
MAUD. Well?
HELENA, T ara-diddle—iddle—doodle—oodle—ay !

MAUD. I smell a
rat; I see him brewing in the air;
come, let us nip him in the bud. Just the sort of foolish
tric Eri
would try on rne—to send a boy li e that who
can no more lie than y. I soiled him, though !

HELENA. So your Highness will not patronise St Hilde-

brand !

MAUD. Indeed, we shall be two pilgrims. The fool will

218
 SNOWSTORM
hatch some foolish plot— and I shall indicate my innocence.
And I thin I can go one better than that I Come; we must
dress for dinner.
HELENA. Our appetites are whetted‘
MAUD. Yours, I suppose, for lo e ; mine, for some
sharper sweetmeat !

[They ga out, through gai/dm, mm’ π steþs, (mo! of” R. A

þama 67/‫ ?!?שש‬KARL mm’ ERIC, L., cmn in arm, and
iua/12 up and ‫?”? שח‬
ERIK. Very good, boy. E cellent. And now ust one
touch to the masterpiece! We are much of a size . . . I thin
I will see how I loo in a lieutenant’s uniform.
KARL Oh yes, Highness, that will be much better.
ERIK. So I shall be master of the situation, howe er things
turn out.
KARL. Your Highness is a Bismarc ! Always master of
the situation!

[They ga ( ... laughing, as the CURTAIN falls.

219
 PERSONS REPRESENTED
PRINCE ERIK
KARL
PRINCESS MAUD
HELENA
THE FOUR DRINKERS, with Wamen, Elsie, Carlotta, and two others
An ‫ ?” ש שמ‬Pym:
THE CHANCELLOR
A Conooml' File
NERISSA
A Neighbour to NERISSA
ACT III
The same day—1 L30 int
At the hue/ of the Stage is the Palace. The Prince’: apart-
ment is in brilliant light. The other Windows are daz/h.
R. is the church of St ![ /4180704464 ₪8 11851731 door being
well up stage ; fare/let with the wall runs 0444 a enue of
&/‫?;שש‬ L. a row of houses, and [l similar a enue. The
whole character of the 508448 is one of Gothia Gleam.
Enter the Priest L. with two oeolytes mul enters ehureh.
Various towmþeoþle, going home, 67055 stage. Hymn
from within [hui/eh.
ΑΗ ye tottering crags that thrust
Tortured foreheads from the dust,
Palaces of fear wherein
Lur the sacraments of sin,
220
 SNOWSTORM
Be abased before the nod
Of our one Almighty God!
Crag and pinnacle and spire
Hear our hymn !

Disrupt, dislimn!
God is a consuming re.

Dwellers of the dar ness, ee!

Lea e the night to grace and greeI
Whether sleep dissol es the soul
Or igil gains the godly goal,
Be the Lord a puissant aid
Το his children undismayed!
Crag and pinnacle, etc.

[Euler NERISSA ama! a neighbour R.

NEIGHBOUR, That’s the Palace, on the right, dearie. There’s
alight in Prince Eri ’s room. He’s ust going to bed, I
suppose. Now you’re coming along to ha e a bit of supper
with me, lamb, and then you shall go to bed, too.
NERISSA. I don’t thin I shall sleep much to—night. I
thin I shall wander about a little, and play tunes to the
breezes and the nightingales.
NEIGHBOUR. The owls are the only birds abroad. And
there are burglars, lamb. It’s ery late now.
[Enter Is! am! 371i DRINKERS L., mit/L three Campaniam,
and a group of women afz‘he tow”, Moisi/y,
I DRINKER. Hullo! Here’s our little blind ddler girl.
Come along, dear. I’ll mend your ddle for you.
NEIGHBOUR. Go away; you’re drun .
221
 THE EQUINOX
ELSIE. So sorry, dear, we won’t interfere with you. We’re
only going home. [NERISSA and neighbour go o " L.
1 DRINKER. VVe're not
going home. I swear it. I call to
witness yon bright star. [Apostnophz‘zes Castle window.
3 DRINKER. You fool, it isn‘t a star. It’s the moon. It’s
the beautiful moon.
ELSIE. It‘s the window of the Castle.
I DRINKER. I tell you it‘s astar. It isn’t the right colour
for the moon.
3 DRINKER. It’s too big to be a star.
A COMPANION. Boys, it‘s the sun. The rising sun. It’s
not the right shape for a window.
1 DRINKER. So it is, Well, didn‘t I say so? The rising
sun—the star of day!
CARLOTTA. Oh come along and sleep it off!
I DRINKER. Sleep in the beautiful sunshine? Oh, Carlotta,
how wic ed you must be! This is the time when respectable
people get up, and en oy the cool air of the morning. Let us
go into the elds and pic buttercups !

3 DRINKER. Buttercups and daisies!

DRINKER. Let’s sing a hymn of gladness on this bright
1

and beautiful morning!

3 DRINKER. I tell you it's the moon. Elsie, it’s the moon,
isn’t it? You may iss me. Now that’s the moon. What 3
plump, pretty face you’ e got. I’m going to be the man in
the moon.
[He hisses hen se eral times. The others are reeling about
the synem, e cept one man who is leaning, in despair,
against a tree
CARLOTTA. Come along, dear!
222
 SNOWSTORM
1 DRINKER. Why should I come along?
CARLOTTA. You're drun .
I DRINKER. You’rea liar. I’m not too drun to stand. I’m
not too drun to sing (sings):
There’s nothing li e beer
One’s courage to cheer,
A soldier is certain to tell you;
And the militant one
With his sword and his gun
Is always a olly good fellow!

3 DRINKER. Oh, that's a rotten song. Stri e me! I do

belie e there's the man in the moon!
[PRINCE ERIK z': seen for a moment all the lz'ghledwz'udow,
He is in the uniform ufa lieutenant
1 DRINKER. You‘re as drun as it's humanly possible for a
gentleman to be, It's the sun, you owl; there ne er was a
man in the sun. There couldn’t be; it's against human
nature.
3 DRINKER. Well, let's dance, Elsie, turn the band on again I
I DRINKER. No, it’s absurd. Respectable people don’t dance
at our o’cloc in the morning! But I’ll sing. I'll wa e the
birds. I’ll ma e the coc crow, li e poor 016 Peter did. Poor
old Peter
3 DRINKER, Ilea e all that to Elsie. Elsie, my deary I
want a lar . Just ma e up one for me, will you?
ELSIE. I'm so tired. I want to go home to bed.
1 DRINKER (sings):

Gi e rum to the sailor!

It’s always a failure ;
223
 THE EQUINOX
He tosses about on the breast of the ocean.
He is clumsy and stout,
And a booby, a lout,
For his life’s a perpet‘a perpetual motion !

[All thom: 3 last lines of each erse.

The Temperance cran
Gets his booze from the tan ,
A li uor less t or a man than a frog.
His mind isa fog,
And he li es in the bog-
You may bet you can always nd him in the bog
[Chorus
But the soldiers a chap
That can laugh at mishap;
He nds room in Dame Fortune's and Marian’s lap.
And why, do you thin ?
It's a uestion of drin .
He nows what is good when his stomach might sin !
[Chorus
Now this is the reason
His foe he can freeze on,
And defend his good monarch from malice or treason.
His heart's full of cheer
And his belly of beer,
And he ne er—he ne er runs off to the rear!

Chorus.
It may sound ery ueer,
But the truth is uite clear.
He ne er—He ne er runs off to the rear.
224
 SNOWSTORM
[During this song all are mamamg about the S uare, same
arm-ln—awn, some embracing. The light in the Palaee
gags oui.
2 DRINKER. Oh my goodness ! The sun’s gone out.
I DRINKER. It‘s only an eclipse, you fool.
3 DRINKER. Elsie wants me to come home. Now what I
say is. . , .
1 DRINKER. It’s ery dangerous to be out of doors in an
eclipse. I’m going home. Come along, Carlotta; I want you
to teach me cat’s cradle.
CARLOTTA. Not at this time of the night, stupid. I’m
going to tie your nose to the noc er, and run away!
[They all 1/66 of: R. A short fame. As thez'if ?(01665 die
away—ane brea s out, of”, lhla the last thorus—other
?(01665 are hem/rl, af, I.. They aþþnmeh. Euler ERIK
as a Lz’eaz‘maal, mith 6111 alaI man, lhe Chancel/07.
ERIK. Come o er here, Chancellor. You will not be seen
behind these trees. I need not as you to watch closely, and
report truthfully, what may occur.
CHANCELLOR. I cannot belie e that yourHighncss is usti edr
ERIK. Your eyes must be your udge. If I drop this
hand erchief, you will come forward and ma e the arrest.
The men will be concealed in these doorways.
[The organ plays a 1111111130/ )?? ERIK and CHANCELLOR
and heeþ silente
1111601167
CHANCELLOR. It is a dangerous game, your Highness.
ha e pic ed de oted men. The succession is at sta e.
ERIK. I
CHANCELLOR. Highness, I am an old man, and I now
much of successions It is always best to be dumb, and ery
!

nearly always best to be blind.

VII P 225
 THE EQUINOX
You ha e wandered too much among the tombs.
ERIK.
CHANCELLOR. I wished to see if ghosts wal ed.
ERIK. And do they?
CHANCELLOR. Only when madmen call them up! Let the
dead alone.
ERIK. On e ery wind one ghost calls to me.
CHANCELLOR. Ah !
There is more in this than the
honour of Fiordland. I was sure I new all about
successions !

ERIK. Yes, silence ser es their turn. But what if the

Blood of Abel crieth from the ground?
CHANCELLOR. Sir, the blood of the martyrs is the seed of
the Church. But not by engeance upon the murderers.
ERIK, Chancellor, it is useless to dissuade me. I ha e
not slept well or a long while.
CHANCELLOR. And so your udgment is clouded.
ERIK. My udgment shall be the for ed ash of hea en!
CHANCELLOR. Beware whom it may stri e !

ERIK. You always bode.

CHANCELLOR. I ha e li ed long enough to fear calamity.
My daughter caught the chill that illed her on the fairest day
of summer.
ERIK Yes, it is your age that spea s. Is it not ust as
true that storm puri es the air? . . . But enough. Here
comes Karl with his men.
[Enter KARL wit/1 cai/ aml’s le. CHANCELLOR comm/5
himself
ERIK.Get your men into the doorways [He [am-ult.? ;
watt/z, wil/z great ‫י‬, !/‫ ?!!!שש‬for it z': now 1/81/11 (lar/e. It is
nearly time. Enough now. Not a sound.
226
 SNOWSTORM
[KARL has eonoealeol himself 222221 the soldiers in the door-
ways of the houses. ERIK in centre of stage, listening.
After a long pause he seems to 8211612 a 50222221 for he ,?

stniles, raises his nger as a sign, and goes into the

shadow of the 7285173/ þai/eh. Another pause. Foot-
steps are heard, ana’ low oices. The footsteps stop.
Then I-IELENA enters, hehina’ Church, with great
discretion. She loohs ana’ listens hee/dy
HELENA. It is all right.
MAUD [of . Then stay under the trees. They are there?
[HELENA noa’s, with a little langh, amt goes hat/a among
the trees. MAUD enters uietly, and slips munu' hy
the weyn/.
ERIK [imitating the ?(0228 of KARL We are alone, my
beautiful. Come; the car is at the bac of the houses.
[MAUD ana’ ERIK 802/28 out into the seum/e.
ERIK. My darling [He fats his arms about her nee/e.
!

MAUD. What does this mean? How dare you insult your
Princess? Do you thin I should come here, and not
now how to defend myself?
[With a little a’agger she 52721685 him in the throat.
He falls demi/.
CHANCELLOR [rnshing aut . By God, Madam, you ha e
illed the Prince !

Α . The Prince! Eri ! Iha e illed Lo e itself!

Death! What ha e I done? Madman! Oh then, what is
left for me to do? Eri ! Why do you loo at me li e
that? Come home to the Palace!
[She is now at hy E ii R.
HELENA. Madam, I pray you . , .
227
 THE EQUINOX
MAUD. Silence, you fool! Iwill show you how a ueen
can die. [She thrusts the dagger into her side, andfalls, cf.
Eric! .

[All are 77070 granted round the carþse of the Prinee. The
Westry door opens sudden/y. A gigantic þriest, with
a terrihle heard, long and snow-white, brandishing a
huge 67055 of rough wood, rashes oat
PRIEST. Begone, re ellers! Disturb not the sacred night
with your cries! Children of the de il, I am at my prayers,
my prayers for your lost souls! Accursed are ye, accursed of
God Begone!
!

[He retires inta the 7 /‫ ??)מ‬and 5/07/75 the hea y door.

A SOLDIER. He is right! We are accursed. The place is
accursedl
[Panic seizes the/11 all, and they 7775/7 a " R., spar/ting the
eorþse of the Princess, and crying “A coursed .! The
677756 of God is aþan 775 ! We are aeenrse‘d ! "
[The 67/65 die away. Absolute silenee reigns After a
long ;5777756 NERISSA 7 5 seen among the trees, .. She
fee/s her way from tree to tree
NERISSA. This is the s uare. I wonder if his window is
still lighted. He will come to me if he is awa e.
[She 7'5 now near centre of stage, al/nost touching the 6071556
fPRINCE ERIK
[She ta es her 7770/7'77 and flag/5 “ Abide with Me " (or, 775

an alternati e, the Serenade). At the end she waits,

then gi es a sig/z.
I suppose he has gone to sleep. I will go bac . Perhaps
to—morrow! [She turns 0676/6 and goes oat.
CURTAIN.
228
 A BRIEF ABSTRACT OF THE
SYMBOLIC REPRESENTATION
OF THE

UNIVERSE
DERIVED BY DOCTOR JOHN DEE
THROUGH THE SKRYING OF

SIR EDWARD KELLY

229
 [PREFATORY NOTE BY THE EDITOR
We omit in this preliminary s etch any account of the Tables of Soyga, the
Heptarchia Mystica, the Boo of Enoch, or Liber Logaeth. We hope to be
able to deal with these ade uately in a subse uent article
 mi HOLY TABLE.
?7?
7M.J e LrLImr-MLLETTILLI ?? νC
...34

ΞΕ

' ??

ἰΕ ἰΤ

Rf

[DlArAi —

35! g zi r‘E’TMblNM'LUWW‘TCJ

LJLJDI’B

(‫;ץח‬-!”?

:? I'UQTQICJIDKD PHUFLI'IITJI ; DICI &ICIC ID b

PLATE I.
 The S ryer obtained from certain Angels a series of se en
talismans. These, grouped about the Holy Twel efold Table,
similarly obtained, were part of the furniture of the Holy
Table, as shewn in Plate ., opposite.
Other appurtenances of this table will be described
hereafter
11
Other Pantacles were obtained in a similar manner. Here
(Plate .) is the principal one, which, car ed in wa , was
placed upon the top of the table. On four others stood the
feet of the table.
Note rst the Holy Se enfold Table containing se en
Names of God which not e en the Angels are able to
pronounce.
ΞΑΑ ΞΕ Ε,
BT KASES,o
ΗΕ ΕΝΕ
Ε Ο ΕξΑ
ΕΟΟ Ε
ΑΟ ξ᾽᾽ν Ν
Η ΑΑ ξ᾽
These names are seen written without the heptagram
within the heptagonr
231
 THE EQUINOX
By reading these obli uely are obtained names of Angels
called—
(I) Filiae Bonitatis or Filiolae Lucis.
Ε
Me
Ese
Iana
A ele
Azdobn
Stimcul
(2) Filii Lucis‘
I
Ih
Ilr
Dmal
Heeoa
Beigia
Stimcul
[These are gi en attributions to the Metals of the Planets
in this order: Sol, Luna, Venus, Jupiter, Mars, Mercury,
Saturn
(3) Fili Filiarum Lucis.
S
Ab
Ath
Ized
E iei
Madimi
Esemeli
232
SIGILIAVM DEI Ε’ Η,

‫אןי‬. ‫!י‬ .?
 KELLY'S UNIVERSE
(4) Filii Filiorum Lucis.
L (El)
Aw
A e
Liba
Iocle
Hagone )
Ilemese
See all these names in the heptagram of the great seal
So also there are Se en Great Angels formed thus ta e
:

the corner letter S, then the diagonal ne t to it AB, then the

ne t diagonal ATH, then the fourth diagonal, where is I
with ᾽ (which indicates EL), and we ha e the name—
SABATHIEL
Continuing the process, we get
EDEKIEL
MADIMIEL
SEMELIEL
NOGAHEL
CORABIEL
LEVANAEL
These names will be found in the Pentagram and about it.
These angels are the angels of the Se en Circles of Hea en.
These are but a few of the mysteries of this great seal
SIGILLVM DEI ΑΞ ΕΤΗ
111
The Shew-stone, a crystal which Dee alleged to ha e
been brought to him by angels, was then placed upon this
233
 THE EQUINOX
table, and the principal result of the ceremonial s rying of
Sir Edward Kelly is the obtaining of the following diagrams,
Plates III.-VIII.
He symbolized the Fourth-Dimensional Uni erse in two
dimensions as a s uare surrounded by 30 concentric circles
(the 30 fEthyrs or Aires) whose radii increase in a geometrical
proportion.
The sides of the s uare are the four great watch-towers
(Plates IV.-VII.) which are attributed to the elements.
There is also a “ blac cross ” (or “ central tablet” according
to the arrangement shewn—compare the blac cross bordering
the tablets in Plate III. with Plate VIII.).
Plate III. gi es the general iew.
[The re ersed letters which form the word PARAOAN
are written in Enochian for con enience, as our A and O are
not distinguishable re erse from forward
Plate IV. gi es the complete attribution of the tablet
of Air.
The 6th le is called Linea Patris.
The 7th le is called Linea Filii.
The 7th line is called Linea Spiritus Sancti.
This great cross di ides the Tablet into our lesser (sub-
elemental) Tablets, the left-hand top corner being Air of Air,
the right-hand top corner Water of Air, the left-hand bottom
corner Earth of Air, the remaining corner Fire of Air,
Each of these lesser Tablets contains a Cal ary Cross
of ten s uares, which go erns it.
Plates V., VI., and VII. are similar for the other elements.
This is the way in which the names are drawn from the
great Tablets. [E amples ta en from Water Tablet
234
 THE FOUR GREAT \VATCHV’I‘OWERS AND THE BLACK CROSS
WITHIN ( Ε NERAI, VIEW.

,merh

ι ι νπι ; .ι οοαἰι ι ι Τι ι ιπιπ

totLV uade— .LbGosoo þcsPL

onLLaSoaa L

ι αν ι ναοοι
α νιιαι πναν ι

ααο ιι οο πα α
..., omm,

ObeocanmLLL e n aaLm uoL

RogantAcacanTpamstsrLaeop;
Do
rac—15:40cl., oSw—Luan aMb odra α ι ιΔιοο ι ιιἰ ι ιιιι ο ξιαιο Ἠν οΤιν, ο ιι ι ι ν Ha omeLwo:5& AoPo tszLnus; yuoPrda nano iLVSogribLmutt: LaYabioGLCPtmeombLACaLSazt
Lunae..azaOurrz inazaMzst if αοο ι ι οΝο .ι. α Τι οιΤ ιν DwuasVLLTPLH ,.. bmc aLratae πιιι ιιιαι5α, ι ιι ο ιιοπν mbmcCLL w&.uD..Lamþ P:Lwaþar
atob aFlladiVLGLPbcA. -5...L.Lag PrzaoaLisaisg.aaOdnLA L—u unn

m mo

ι
..OXstzOO PO
ο α ι- ι
ι π νι ιι
wW. ο ο ινοαοιν aoGe pr asp
nooa—chTsLa

νον.:α ο

.ιι ι
ιιι
ν ,.

PLATE HI.
 THE GREAT WATCH-TOWER OF THE EAST, A'l‘TRlBU’l‘EI) ΤΟ AIR.

A
A ΔV VA ΔA ACA
AV ? 2A (1 π. A AV V A C1
VA AV V
.
A/V sV

A A A 5ABVA
ΔA AA ΔA AA AΔ ...
I A A AA
d A A1V nsALVA
VA VA VA VA Δ ν ννν
V
.I.
AFA 3V VVLAV
1A 1A

A ΔA AA ΔA zABVA
AA A ... Lπ ΘA VA VA VA VA V

A AA AA ΔA AA AC Δ
Q. ,A VA VA VA VA V
AA VVRAVVVV

LA cA

A AA AA ΔA AA AΟ ‫?א‬ . A VA VA VA VA V
s l7 Bs Pe im PA wy1

LA JA

A AA AA ΔA AA AΟ ( X Ad A AA VAmA IAArA
VA V A VA VA V
VV A dAA

₪ VA7A LAAWV
O.. NW .. WM 811Θ ν ι

(
α π ;78ι π
. m
A J4VnVVzAV1VVmA
Θm
AAJV 7AALAALVAEAACV
o.. Δ
‫?שממש‬
h ...—.
Q d uo X . 8 An

( uo
..AaVALAA3VAAA nAAPA ngwAVJVVLAVr—V,
.m

ΔΘ Δ Θ 71ΔΘ ΔΔ3ΔΘ 4Δ2ΔΔ

V VA AA V V VA A m. d !. . VA AA AV VA A
‫שש‬ ?

VA Θ! AA ΔA
AAJVADA AAVV zVaAVwVVJAV -V

A VA VA VA V A AA AA A
A nA LA

5V
A357

VΔ VA A AA AA ΔA ΔΔ A
A LAAbA C A.AAnVA/.AAE/

A VA VA V 0.. ! .m

AV

A VΔ AA AA ΔA
V bAVAA—JVAHAAWV

VA VA VA V ‫?מ‬ A. m ΘA iSViAVaVVLA n

ΔΔ Δ
I A LA /A J.A &A

A uA ismwam,

A VVLAV
VΔ VA VΔ VA V ‫מ‬ . D Q A AA AA ΔA ΔA
VAIAAFV
Δ

A VΔ VA VΔ VA V ‫מ‬ ΘD 09.—
. A
A AA AAP AA A \A/ Δ
? .
A A

h. ... .
THE GRI- AT WATCH—TOWER OF THE WEST, AT’I‘RIBU’I‘EI) TO WATER.

& V
A V/A AV VV
1
AA AV V : Q n A AV VV VA AV V

V AV AV AV AV VmA LaVLVV
A ?
aV LV DV
ἕ. V VV VV VV VV V
15A

VIV L5A1VAtAA V5V V4VLVVBAV

V AV V1A JaVLVVWAVfVV
AV AV A n2ABVA AA

AV Δ c ( dV VV VV
VEV C V3VV AV1VV
VV VV V

V AV AV ΔV AV ΔT df nV V PV JV LV JV cV
.V VV VV o1 1s c7 ia
VV
s aw w
VV V
VADAAnVA

V AV AV AV AV Δ M. Θ a, ( V VV VV VV VmV
VV
zAbVALAAWVALA LVVaA nz
V
VV
Cs b7 L 19 Jw V a4 zs

V AV AV AV AV Δ 9 ! ? V VV VV VV VV V

A 5VV
d m ΘW 92 VAlA JVVbV

2 u Q V JV WV LV uo
ἕ8 & 8 A JVV
Q ἕ. a K
AVFVV A aVVcV AALAA

V VA ΔV VV VA A ‫?מ‬ m OV VAAA bVV3A

VA
5VrAV

AV AV VΔ A
ΔΘ
V L

dm
V L5 4 . e

V VV VV VV VV V ‫מ‬ Q V AV AV AV ΔV Δ

V VV VV VV VV Vw Θm 5. V AV AV AV ΔV
A nVVJV caAJAA VA1AA V A CVVFA 4A2AAQVA1AA3V

Δ
7 zVBAVFVV
V mV
Δ ΔΔ Α
7

V VV VV Ja
VV VV V — c π AV AV AV AV ΔV Δ
a
nAVzVVmAVrV mAVWVVnAV V

V VV VV VV VV V A FV 3V IV
π V 1V
d V AV ΔV AV ΔV Δ
VALAAWV VV AV V
19

me w
AVaV

ΘV ΔV
AADV

V VV VV VV VV VA π AV AV ΔV Δ
V

:-‫?מ'מ‬ V.?
THE GREAT WATCH-TOWER OF THE NORTH, ATTRIBUTED TO EARTH.

AA V V V V V
ΑV VV ΔA AV V ‫?מ‬ mr m LV
ΘA VnV
AV VV VA A V V
ΔΘ ΔΘ
z1 ae

V ΔV AV ΑV ΔV A r4V
A ‫מ‬ .o m 9V VV VV VV VV V
V m2AbVA

V ΔV AV ΔV ΔV A ‫מ‬ Om ‫?א‬ V VV VV VV VV V
V A 25AJVALAA VA1A

V ΔV AV 1 36 b7 n5 L 1m
ΔVV
AV Δ 2 ( π n . V SALVAbAAAVA

VV VV VV VV V
7 a 19
V LsVaVVPAVCVViA wVVJA

V ΔV AV AV AV 1 .0 V V V VV V V VV V
3V1VV AVKVVVA LVVLV

V LV 3V 1V PV B JV wV aV V sAVbVVcAVaVVCA i VaA P4A

AAaVAmA

AV AV AV AV Δ ? π ΘV VV VV VV VV V
VVDAVIVVAA awV P4A

ἕ (8 m 9 N
ἕ ) . Θ Q Ε 2 d
‫?? י‬ V LV&:V V VV cV mV V JV VQWV JV

VΑ AV
2AAVA5AA3VA3A aQV IQVQAVLVVJAV1V

V A V V V VA AC 9 V VA A V VA Δ

VV VV VV V G . A. V A V A V AV A V Δ

( dV Δ
A mVVmA m5V5AV1VV1AV1V

V VV VV VV VV VC AV AV AV AV
m /V 14 ne a7 aa 19 m

VVLA zVJAVVVVrAV

AA

VV V V VV VV V T d V ΔV A V A V AV Δ
1 VA J7 C8 n9 Jm

?
AWAAJVAPAA/V

VLAV VVdAVIV AnAA.VArAArV V m mV

z (
AAJVAnAAaV

VV VV VV VV V .... O V ΔV AV A V AV Δ
VALAAAV

V VV V V VV VV VT ? .m V ΔV AV A V AV Δ
V V

PLATE νι.
THE GREAT WATCH-TOWER OF THE SOUTH, ATTRIBUTED TO FIRE.

A AV VA AA ΔV A1A
V ...ι d ?A A V V A V Δ Δ V /
Δ
A LA A L5A

/V
A ΔA AA Q1 La 7
A A ΔA Δ M. VA Θ & A V A VA V Δ V A

A ΔΔ AA A A ΔA Δ M.?
9 hA VA VA V Δ V A V
Δ
A3 s a aVa A

/A
A A A LsALVAJAAaVAnA LA

Δ AA A A AA Δ ₪ m Θ A VAnAA
VA VA VΔ Δἕν ιΔΘνΔ ΔΔ ΘΔ Δ
V A
ΔΔ
Ai 4 a nA r

7
nA 1A?

a1 e m7 s ce 1w LA A4

Δ A Δ‫ש‬ 9A V A VΔ V A
:Δ ΘΔΘ

A ΔΔ ΔA AA m V A V

8 ao m

!\ ΔΔ ΔA A Δ ΔA 4V3

A
/AVJVVEA 1AAW? 2 A

O m? .A V A V A VΔ V A
ΔΘπΔΘιΔΘ Δ Δ ΔΘ ΔΘ Δ

Ou Q
ALA CaVQVVVAVBVVJA mAAAV waAJAAwVALAAbV?

d D.
AnA JzAAVAwAAWVAAA /AAJV aV/AVLVVnA iV?

( ‫א‬ Q. w . ) m dm O Q.
H:.

VΔ ΔA VV VΔ A Δ? π V V A AA A V NA A
‫? ח שש‬

A
.m V A V A VA V Δ V ‫מ‬ ππ ΔΘ ΔΘ ΔΘ ΔΘ ΔΘ ΔΘ
A AA
VAVA nAAPA soVJAV VVnAV
AA AA
A z2V A
ΔA Δ
Δ ι ι π

A
WaV AVmVV
VA V A V A VΔ V ‫מ‬ π ΘA AA AAmA aanAAaVAJAA

AA AA ΔA Α

A VA VA V A V Δ V 0 9 ξA AA AA Pe 17 La ao m?
AA ΔΔ
3A1AAAVA1AAAV?
Δ

0 AΔ AA ΔΔ Δ
AAaVAPAAeV?

A VA VA VA V Δ V LA mA aA?
5. A AA nVVCAVJV?

ΔΘ
AVAV? 9 Lw?

A? V? A? V? A? V? A? V? Δ? V? Ο? &? ? d? A? A? A? A? Δ? A? A? Δ? Δ? Δ?
Δ? V? V?

PLATE Vn
THE BLACK CROSS. OR TABLE OF UNION,
ATTRIBU'I‘ICD ΤΟ SPIRIT.

1 V D) D D?

I
& ‫י‬ ‫ש‬

1‫ש‬ \
D

P D D

PLATE VIII.
 KELLY’S UNIVERSE
1.Linea Spiritus Sancti gi es the Three Holy Names of
God of 3, 4, and 5 letters respecti ely.
MPH. ARSL. GAIOL,
2. A whorl around the centre the Tablet gi es the
01
name of the Great Elemental King, RAAGIOSL [similarly
for Air BATAIVAH, for Earth IC HHCAL, for Fire
EDLPRNAA .
3. The 3 lines of the central cross 01 Father, Son,
and Holy Ghost gi e the names of 6 seniors. [Thus the
4 tablets hold 24 “elders," as stated in the Apocalypse
They are drawn of se en letters, each from the centre to the
sides 01 the tablet
SAIINOV Linea Patris
SOAI NT
LAOA RP Linea Filii
LIGDISA [
SLGAIOL
LS RAH [ Linea S.S.
These three sets of names rule the whole tablet, and must
be in o ed before specializing in the lesser angles 01 the sub—
elements.
4. The Cal ary Crosses
The name upon the cross read ertically is the name
which calls forth the powers of the lesser angle.
NELAPR (water of water)
OLGOTA (air of water)
MALADI (earth of water)
IAAASD ( re 01 Water)
235
 TH Ε EQUINOX
The name read horizontally on the cross is that which
compels the e o ed force to obedience.
OMEBB (water of water)
AALCO (air of water)
OCAAD (earth of water)
ATAPA ( re of water)
5. Abo e the bar of the Cal ary Cross remain in each case
four s uares. These are allotted to the Kerubim, who must
ne t be in o ed.
They are TDIM
DIMT
IMTD
MTDI, being metatheses of these four letters.
The initial determines the le go erned; e.g. TDIM go erns
the le which reads T(O)ILVR. These angels are most
mighty and bene olent. They are ruled by names of God
formed by pre ing the appropriate letter from the “ blac -
cross” to their own names.
6. Beneath the bar of the Cal ary Cross remain 16 s uares
not yet accounted for. Here, beneath the presidency of the
Kerubim, rule four mighty and bene olent angels—
INGM
LAOC
VSSN
RVOI
Triliteral names of demons or elementals are to be
7.
formed from these 16 s uares, uniting the two letters on
either side of the upright of the cross with a letter chosen
236
 KELLY’S UNIVERSE
from the Central Tablet or blac cross in accordance with
rules which will be gi en in their due place. Thus GM
IN
OC
LA
et cetera, form bases for these triliteral names.
The following rules e plain how the sides of the pyramids
01 which the s uares are formed are attributed to the Sephiroth,
Planets, Elements, and odiacal signs.
1. Great Central Cross. This has 36 s uares, for the
decanates of the odiac.
On the left side of the Pyramid, Linea Patris has the
Cardinal signs, the sign of the Element itself at the top, in
the order 01 Tetragrammaton (Fire, Water, Air, Earth) going
upwards.
Linea Filii has the Common signs in the same order.
Linea SS. has the Cherubic signs, that of the element on
the left, in the same order, right to left.
But the order of the decans in each sign is re erse, and
thus the planets which ll the right—hand side of the Pyramids
go in the rst two cases downwards, and in the third from
left to right.
The upper sides 01 the Pyramids are all attributed to the
Element of Spirit, the lower sides to the Element of the
Tablet.
Each s uare is also referred to the small card 01 the Tarot
which corresponds to the Decan (see 777).
2. Cal ary Crosses.
Each has 10 s uares.
The upper sides of the Pyramids are uniformly gi en to
237
 THE EQUINOX
Spirit, the lower 51665 10 Sephiroth, in the order shewn.
1116

The left-hand sides are attributed to the element 01 the Tablet,

the right-hand sides to the sub—element of the lesser angle.
3. Kerubic S uares.
The upper sides pertain to the element 01 the Tablet, the
lower sides to the sub-element. Right- and left-hand sides in
this case correspond, according to a somewhat comple rule
which it is unnecessary to gi e here. The attributions to the
Court Cards of the Tarot naturally follow.
4. Lesser S uares.
The upper side of each pyramid is go erned by the Kerub
standing on the pile abo e it. The lower side is go erned by
the Kerub also, but in order descending as they are from right
to left abo e. [See angle of Air 01 Water; the Kerubs go
Earth, Fire, Water, Air (from the s uare mar ed D, the fth
from the left in the top ran of the Tablet), and downward the
lower sides 01 the s uares mar ed O, D, Ε, go Earth, Fire,
Water, Air.
The left-hand side refers to the element of the Tablet, the
right—hand side to the sub-element 01 the lesser angle.
5. The Blac Cross 01 Central Tablet.
The upper and lower sides are e ually attributed to Spirit.
The left-hand sides to the element of the le, in this order
from left to right: Spirit, Air, Water, Earth, Fire.
The right-hand sides to the element of the ran in this
order: Air, Water, Earth, Fire.
IV
Follows Plate IX., the Alphabet in which all this is
written. It is the Alphabet of the Angelic Language. The
238
 KELLY’S UNIVERSE
in ocations which we possess in that tongue follow in their
due place.
[It is called also Enochian, as these angels claimed to be
those which con ersed with the “ patriarch Enoch " of Jewish
fable
V
The Thirty iEthyrs or Aires and their di isions and
angels are as follows [We omit for the present considera-
tion of the parts of the earth to which they are stated to
correspond, and the uestion of the attributions to the
cardinal points and the Tribes of Israel. These are duly
tabulated in Dee's "Liber Scienti , Au ilii, et Victoriae
Terrestris.” :—
NAME OF ‫?! א‬ NAMES OF GOVERNORS. 45885?/ ‫ ?”?ן‬IX ALL.
I. LIL. OCCODON . . . 7209
PASCOMB . . . 2360 14,931
VALGARS . . . 5362
2. ARN. DOAGNIS , . . 3636
PACASNA . . . 2362 15,960
DIALIVA . , . 8962
3. Ο . SAMAPHA . . .
44001
VIROOLI . , . 3660 17,296
ANDISPI . , , 9236i
4. Α . THOTANF . . . 2360
AX IARG . . . 3000‘ 11,660
POTHNIR . . . 6300
5. LIT, LA DIXI . . . 8630
NOCAMAL . . .
2306 16,736
TIARPAX . . . 5802
239
 THE EQUINOX
NAME OF Anus, NAMES OF GOVERNORS. Νξ ξξξξξ ξ IN ALL.
6. MA . SAXTOMP . . . 3620
VAVAAMP 4 . . 9200 20,040
IR IRD 4 . . 7220
7. DEO. OBMACAS . . . 6363
GENADOL . . . 7706 20,389
ASPIAON . . . 6320
8. ID. AMFRES 4 . . 4362
TODNAON . . . 7236 13,900
PRISTAC . . . 2302
9. IP. ODDIORG 4 . . 9996
CRALPIR . 4 , 3620 17,846
DOAN IN . . . 4230
10. AX. LEXARPH . . . 8880
COMANAN 4 . . 1230 11,727
TABITOM . . . 1617

[Note that these 3 names come from the blac cross, with
the addition of an L. This L is one of the 8 re ersed letters
in the four watchtowers, the other se en forming the word
PARAOAN, 9.720 infra.
NAME OF AIRE. NAMES OF GOVERNORS. NUMBERS OF
SERVITORS. lN ALL.
11. ICH. MOLPAND . 4 4
3472
VANARDA . . . 7236 15,942
PONODOL . 4 . 5234
12. LOB. TAPAMAL . . 4

26581
GEDOONS 4
. 4
7772 13,821
AMBRIAL . . .
3391J
240
 Ξ Οι Ε ΕΞΕΝΤΑ ΟΝ
NUMBERS OF IN ALL,
NAME OF AIRE. NAMES OF GOVERNORS. SERVITORS.
13 IRL GECAOND 81111
LAPARIN 15684
3360
DOCEPAX 4213
14 W/TVX TEDOOND 2673
VIVIPOS 9236 20439
OOANAMB 8230
15 ())(() TAHANDO I367
NOCIABI 1367 4620
TASTOXO 1886
16. I.Ii[\ COCARPT 9920
LANACON 9230 28390
SOCHIAL 9240
17 SIGMORF 7623
AVDROPT W 17389
TOCAR I 2634
18 Ξ NABAOMI 2346
AFASAI 7689 19,31 I
YALPAMB 9276
19. () . TOR OXI 6236
ABAIOND 6732 15356
OMAGRAP 2388
20᾽ ILDRON 3626
PAR IBA 7629 14,889
TOTOCAN 3634
21. Ξ CHIRSPA 5536
TOANTOM 5635
5658 16,929
VIXPALG
VII 241
 THE EQUINOX
NUMBERS OF IN ALL-
NAME OF AIRE. NAMES OF GOVERNORS. SERVITORS.
22 LIN. O IDAIA
PARAOAN 6925
CAL IRG

23. ΤΟ . RONOAMB
ONI IMP 21,915
AXANIN

24. Ν Α. ORCAMIR
CHIALPS 24,796
SOAGEEL

25. VTI. MIR IND

OBUAORS 18,201
RANGLAM
26. DES. POPHAND
NIGRANA 18,489
BA CHIM

27. AA. SA IAMI

MATHVLA 22,043
ORPAMB
28. BAG. LABNIXP
FOCISNI 18,066
OXLOPAR

29. RH. VASTRIM

ODRAXTI 21:503
GOM IAM
242
 SYMBOLIC REPRESENTATION
NAME OF ‫?!ח‬ NAMES OF GOVERNORS. Νξ ξξ' ξ ξ IN ALL,

30. TEX. TAONGLA . . , 4632

GEMNIMB . . 9636
ADVORPT . . . 7632
27532
DO INAL . . . 5632
Plate X shows us the names of these go ernors in the
our Watch-Towers. Compare with Plate III.
Note that the sigil of each Go ernor is uni ue; the four
sigils at the corners of Plate X. without the great s uare are
those of the four great Elemental Kings :—
Air Tahaoelo ‘
Water Thahebyobeeatan.
Earth Thahaaotahe.
Fire Ohooohaatani

243
 APOLLO BESTOWS THE VIOLIN
A STORY FOR THE STAGE
I
THE pastureland reached from the border of the oli es and gs
that garlanded the illage to the upper slopes of the mountain,
whose tumbled roc s, re—scarred, frowned the menace of eternal
sterility, the Uni erse against struggling man.
It was not often that Daphnis led his goats too far toward
the crags, for the plain was green and gracious. Only in one
spot was the sward bro en. There did mosses and owers,
yellow, blue, and white, co er a mound as soft and rm as a
maiden’s breast
Daphnis, true child, lo ed to ma e belie e that this mound
was sacred to some nymph. He would ne er in ade the
circle, or allow his goats to wander on it. But he would ta e
his ute and in o e the nymph, or e press the faint stirrings
of manhood in his boyish breast by some such simple song
as this :—
“Goats ο mine. gi e ear, gi e earl
Shun this mound or food or frolic!

Hea en is open ; gods are near

To my musings melancholic.
Spring upon the earth begets
Daffodils and iolets.
Here it was maybe that eus
With his fa ourite too his pleasure;
Here maybe the Satyrs use
With the nymphs to tread a measure,
Let no wanton foot distress
This encircled lo eliness
!

244
 APOLLO BESTOWS THE VIOLIN
Oh, some destined nymph may deign
Through the lilies to come gliding,
Snatch from earth the choral swain,
Hold him in her breast in hiding !

See, they stiri It is the wind :

Of my case they ha e no mind.”
Thus lamenting and complaining the days found him, a
monotony pastoral whose cycle was but peace.
But on the day of the summer solstice, as he plainted
with the old refrain, the lilies stirred more Violently; and the
day was windless. Also it seemed to him as if a faint mist
inhabited their midst. And he sang -‫י‬:?
" Mist, is this the fairy eil
Of the bright one that’s for me?
Too phantastic, false and frail,
See, it melts to anity !

Yet was he eagerly afoot with curiosity, for now the mist
rose in ercer puffs, and little ets of ame spurted and
spar led amid the lilies :-
“ Is it earth herself (he sang) that breathes
In the bosom of the owers?
Is it fatal re that seethes
From the heart of hateful powers ? "
And the tumult of the mound increasing e er, he went
forward a step toward the circle; yet again his self—set fear
caught him, and he drew bac ——and yet again his eagerness
lured him. In the end, reality con uered imagination; he
ad anced delicately up the noll.
Li e the nipple of a breast, earth protruded, red, puc ered,
ssured, This Daphnis saw as he bro e through the tall
lilies. From its centre etted the dus y, rose-red mist. As
he thrust forward his arms to di ide the owers, the beeeze
caught a curl of smo e and mi ed it with his breath.
His head went bac : he half cho ed. Then a strangled
cry bro e from him, turning to wild laughter. His limbs
245
 THE EQUINOX
caught the craze. He leapt and twirled and pirouetted li e
one stung by a tarantula: and all the while meaningless cries
issued from his throat.
The nearer he approached the nipple the more fantastic
were his antics, the more strident his laughter.
Now at the foot of the mound appeared a company of
merchants and sla es ourneying in a cara an. All these,
attracted from their path by the unwonted sounds, beheld
him thus dancing. The whisper went round: “ He is
possessed of the spirit of some God," and they all fell upon
their faces and worshipped.
Then followed the wonder of all; for at high noon was
the sun wrapped in blac ness of eclipse In the gathering
dar ness and the strange shadows Daphnis still leapt and
laughed ; but as the sun was wholly swallowed by the dragon,
he ga e one supreme shrie , and fell e hausted.

II
That which had been a mound of owers was hidden deep
beneath a oor of marble, translucent as mother-of—pearl. Along
each side four elephants of obsidian, crouching, did homage to
the central ob ect of the hall, a slim tripod of sil er, and on their
bac s eight pillars of porphyry were swathed with pythons of
gold and blac . These supported the dome, which glittered
with lapis—lazuli. The shape of the temple was that of a sh
or esica, and nowhere was there any cross or tau to be seen.
Beneath the tripod a circular hole in the marble admitted
the dus y apours which two centuries before had lled
Daphnis with enthusiasm.
Beyond and between each elephant stood e priestesses
in white robes, their faces wrapped closely e en to the eyes,
lest the fumes should cause them to all into trance. Each
of these held in her hand a torch lled with oil pressed from
246
 APOLLO BESTOWS THE VIOLIN
the sacred oli es that grew in the gro es of the temple, and
each was blind and deaf from too long continuance in the
shrine whose glory was so dazzling and whose music so
intense. Each might ha e been a statue of snow at some
anti ue re elry of a Tsar,
Beyond the last of these, where the temple narrowed, was a
shrine hidden, for from the roof hung a eil of purple, on which
were written in golden letters the names and titles of Apollo.
It was the hour of worship with uplifted hands a bearded
;

priest in a oluminous robe of azure and gold cried aloud the

in ocations. He stood beyond the tripod, his face toward
the shrine.
“ Hail to the Lord of the Sun!
Mystic, magni cent one!
Who shall contend with him ? None.
Hail to the Lord of the Sun!
Hail to the Lord of the Bow!
He hath chosen an arrow, and lo !

Shall any a ail with him? No!

Hail to the Lord of the Bow ’᾽ !

And then turning towards the tripod :—

“Hail to the Lord of the Lyre !

Di iner of death and desire,

Prophetic of fa our and re,
Hail to the Lord of the Lyre ! "

With this he turned again and went up to the eil, prostrat—

ing himself se en times. Then again he turned and came to
the tripod and sang :—
“ Prophetess, pythoness, hear !

Child of Apollo, descend!

Smooth from the soul of the sphere
Of the sun, be upon us, befriend!
In the soothsaying smo e of the hollow
Do thou and thine oracle follow
The word and the will of Apollo " !

So saying, he cast incense upon the opening beneath the

tripod, and retired into the shrine. As the smo e cleared,
there was found seated upon the tripod a maiden in aclose
247
 THE EQUINOX
tting dress of crimson sil broidered with gold. Her
masses of blac hair, caught at the crown with a llet of
crimson and gold, fell hea ily around her. She bore a lyre
in her hands. Her eyes were wild and erce, and she sniffed
up the apours of the ca ern with awesome ardour. Feebly
at rst, afterwards frenetically, she pluc ed at the strings.
Hardly a minute—a string snapped; the whole music
arred; and the priest ran from the shrine, shrie ing ”Apollo!
Apollo Veilyour facesl Apollo hath descended." Himselfhe
ung upon the marble before the tripod. There was a noise as
of thunder; the eil was swept open as by a whirlwind, and
Apollo, one ame of gold, entered the temple. As he passed,
the priestesses fell dead and their torches were e tinct. But a
ray 01 glory from abo e, a monstrance to the God, followed
him. Slowly and ma estically he mo ed to the tripod. In his
hands he bore an instrument of wood, 01 unfamiliar shape.
Music of triumph and 01 glory answered his paces.
Το the pythoness he ad anced, thus dancing. He too
the lyre from her hands and bro e it. She stared, entranced.
He put the strange instrument into her hands and, drawing
down her head, pressed his lips to her forehead. Then he
breathed lightly on her hands. Dar ness fell, and lightnings
rent it; thunders answered them. Apollo was gone. After
the thunder the temple was lled with rosy radiance. The old
priest, still prone, raised and let fall his hands, in mechanical
imitation of the signs of in ocation. Obedient, the pythoness
began to play upon the instrument gi en 01 the God, and the
temple shuddered at sounds so ethereal, so soul sha ing, so
di ine. A greater music had been gi en to the world.
She ended. The old priest rose unsteadily to his feet,
crying: “Apollo! Apollo!” staggered, and fell dead before
the tripod.
The light went out.
248
DIANA OF THE INLET
BY

KATHARINE SUSANNAH PRICHARD

Far already thy wild eyes

Unloc my heart-strings as some crystal shaft
Re eals by some chance blaze its parent fount
After long time, so thou re eal'st my soul,
BROWNING,

249
 DIANA OF THE INLET
CHAPTER I
IT was said that the man who li ed alone on the Inlet shore
was mad. He li ed li e a hermit— shed and snared wild—
fowl for food, sometimes bartering a wild bees’ hi e, a platy-
pus s in, or a lyre—bird’s tail with the islanders or Inlet fol ,
for a bag of our or some sail-cloth.
His hut, built of bar and saplings, was on an arm of earth
thrown between the Inlet and the roaring Paci c. Wild
waters besieged its bold outer shore, but within its embrace
the Inlet lay calm as in a basin, sometimes azure, sometimes
sil er.
Old Mary Mahill new his story. Moth’r Mary, all the
Inlet people called her, for she mothered e ery ill—used creature,
forlorn child or sic cow, in the country—side.
A bar ue had been blown on the bar in a gale some years
before The Inlet shermen had rescued one gaunt, white-
s inned man from the wrec He was unconscious, almost
lifeless, when they snatched him from the sea‘ They tended
him with indly sympathy. Moth’r Mary, herself, nursed him
through long months of illness—wee s when he lay tossing
251
 THE EQUINOX
in high fe er, wearying night and day with delirious ra ings
—the cries of a soul in its agony.
“God! God! If there be a god—. . . Where art Thou
—God? . . . There is no god." Always came the same deep,
nal groan.
Ceaselessly that plaint arose. Its anguish, smiting the
starless night, startled the shermen and the sleeping sea—
birds on the midnight sea. It greeted the dawn—a mono—
tonous wailing, ague and clamorous. For long he suffered, and
the old woman watched and tended. The fe erish energy sub-
sided, deep lethargy seized his e hausted body. Not till the
spring, till the awa ening merriment of birds and earthly life
sent a responsi e thrill through sentient nature, did it mo e.
Great-limbed and pallid, with ner eless s eleton body and
ca ernous eyes, he gazed upon the sunlit young earth and sun-
blue sea, uncomprehending.
He grew li e a strong animal. In the clear airs, the open
life, his limbs lled and became rm. Knowledge of the wild
life, the wild creatures of the forest and sea, came to him
intuiti ely. In strength and stature he was before long the
nest man on the Inlet shores. But his mind had sustained
a shoc , and the past was a great blan to him. He went to
li e alone in an isolated co e of the Inlet. The country—fol
thought he was mad, because of the strange and silent life he
chose to lead. All that they new of him was a name; and
that was engra ed on a ring which had fallen from his nger
while he was ill.
Michael Greig!
I recognized it with amazement. I had heard it sounded
in the world of thoughtful men as that of a genius—radiant
252
 DIANA OF THE INLET
as the morning star—a man who had leapt into the arena of
thought, and stood as it were on a dais, an orator with the
ush of youth on his high brows.
His had been an enthusiastic war of words. His argument
dredged modern science of the essences of superstition, and
yet he used the spiritual hypothesis, the ancient faith, with
the re erential simplicity that early association had imbued.
The beautiful myth was a halo bound round the brows of his
dead mother. The patriarchs of Learning, the magi of now—
ledge, with incredulity and amaze paid him homage. Wonder-
ment ga e place to admiration and applause. The laurels of
scholarship were pressed upon him, For awhile the gate to
an immortal fame was a ar. “A youthful daring spirit of
in ention, stimulated by the disco eries of science to ta e its
ight to new and hitherto inaccessible regions,” had been
written of him.
A recluse, Michael Greig immured himself from the
world, that wol sh hunger after nowledge uenching all
impulses but one to push beyond. His soul struggled in the
solitude of a lonely life, though its wings mo ed in the serene
atmosphere of pure philosophy. Lost in a maze of specula-
tions, in lofty abstractions, his brain grew dizzy. “The con-
sciousness of the limitations of man, that sense of an open
Secret—which he cannot penetrate in which is the essence
of religion," probed his faculties, dragging them earthwards.
He was impressed with the futility of toiling thought—the in-
scrutability of the In nite to the Finite. In a chaos of thought,
frenzied with doubt and despair, he cried to the world—that
lay with ears a-gape to hear him,
“ I now nothing—nothing! "

253
 THE EQUINOX
And the world with resentful censure proclaimed him a
charlatan.
Meteor-li e, had Michael Greig ashed through the
scienti c sphere and fallen into obscurity. Abuse engulfed
him, and in an o erwhelming wa e of antagonism the man
was lost.
But here I had found him.
He had found a sanctuary in the South, the south beyond
the most southerly mountains of Australia; o er the ranges
of hea ily—timbered mountains, which the dri ing winds
shroud in clouds.
There in the Spring is an El Dorado of egetable gold.
La ish outspread beauty, wild and rare stretches e ery-
where, gold, gold, the gold of wattle and gorse. Gold is on
the horizon, the dusty road ust edging through it. A cloth of
gold co ers the green-swarded plains, The spirit of tran-
uility broods o er it. Fecund and ernal it is as the
” unfooted plains of Arcady," where roamed the herds of Pan.
From the blue spurs of the Hills the plains stretch: long,
irriguous, ower—lapped plains, erging on the margent of the
seal On the West the Inlet water creeps into a hollow of the
land. The bold outline of the Promontory e tends to the
outer ocean along its Western side.
The forests are dense. The outs irts of hazelwood ma e
the air redolent of its mus y fragrance. The waysideis bright
with owers—heaths, white and scarlet, thrusting speary
points through the sombre-tinted brac en. Red fuchsias droop
in the bending green; purple sarsaparilla and yellow wildepea
cast ines along the ground encircling the fallen timber.
E ery ariety of acacia ma es the shadowy recesses lambent
254
 DIANA OF THE INLET
with blossom. O er a stony cree the light woods are laden
with a down of creamy owers. The cree , swollen with
plentiful rain, mirrors their drooping shades and the blue
patch of s y with its ying scud of clouds. Thin wreaths of
smo e curl from smouldering res in the timber.

255
 CHAPTER II
NEXT day on the Inlet shores I sought and found my fugiti e
from the world of thought—the man whom the country fol
called the madman of the Inlet.
He was a strange being, with splendid barbarian strength
of hairy breast and half na ed limb. His was the gure of a
noble sa age, and I realized that he was mad only in that he
had gone bac se eral decades in his way of life, and that his
memory had suffered an eclipse. He had re erted almost
wholly to the being of primiti e senses. He was again the
sensitized clay, in the place of that electric dust which is our
modern composition. His soul gazed through the sightless
orbs of reason, on a primiti e earth. The great lonely mind,
thrown out upon the world, “ saw God in clouds, and heard
him in the winds.”
We fraternized.
One day I tried to stir his memory. We sprawled on a
spit of sand. The blue waters of the Inlet spat petulantly on
the sea edge.
“ Much learning hath made thee mad,” I uoted softly.
“ I remember an altitude,” he answered me, gra ely, after
some pause, “where my blood froze. Here life glows within
me. There is no cold where the sun is."
I drew his memory gently across the path of the past. It
256
 DIANA OF THE INLET
was strewn with thorns whose sharp points pric ed faint
recollection with darting thoughts.
" There was a lar ," he said, “ that lost his song among the
clouds, and bro e his wings against the s y. There was a
man who strode among the stars. He fell. Maimed, he spent
the rest of his days in the elds of idle wandering. He was a
madman.”
“And now, my Hermit? ” I as ed uietly. “Would he
return? "
" he
“Why should I lea e this place? demanded impetu-
ously, “ lea e the wild hea ens and the sea, the mountains and
the forestry? Their life ebbs and ows with the tide of the
soul. I lo e the wild things, the clouds, the winds, and the
sea-birds. In the morning the wild swans rise. You hear
them drag the water as they mo e, see the ash of sil er
spray. They stretch their long nec s as they y, and the
white tips of their outstretched Wings shine against the pure
morning s y. At night under the shadow of the moon they
drift with shrill melancholy piping. All night they wail from
their breeding beds on the sheltered shore. The mists creep
in from the mainland The moonlight shines on the water,
the wa es brea in li uid sil er. The gulls and gannets with
wild unrest startle their mates, and the wind, lea ing the sea
hushed, sighs up among the landward trees.”
His oice fell into silence. The golden sand at our feet
was fretted with foam. The tussoc y grass about us hissed in
the wind.
“ Paugh! ” spa e the Hermit with a strong man's contempt.
“ Do I want the cities of the world? They are plague spots—
lthy and ree ing of men’s ices. Men and women? Content
257
 THE EQUINOX
among the muc —heaps, they are born and die, calling the
space between, Life.
“ What do want with men. " he added, ercely. "They
are loathsome. With women? They are emptiness, ephemera
of false light, They li e and die li e gnats in the glare of a
day.”
The Hermit laughed harshly.
“The whole world is mad! mad! mad!" he continued,
“grinding and toiling, see ing and soiling, with its scanty
breath, gi ing birth and dying futilely, because it has lost the
way of Life. Here in the solitude is serenity. I li e. Lea e
me this world of sunlight, the sea, the golden sands and
clouded s ies. The mistress of it all I adore. Her breath it
is that sways the sea and the tree-tops, and scatters the stars,
Her spirit possesses me. It has murmured to me through
space and time."
"Ah, I called the moon Diane,” he whispered to me, ”and
worshipped her. My lo e for her is li e the wind beating along
the sea-shore. But it ne er reaches her. I long the more
in nitely.”
“ Diane! " he called softly, with tenderly lo e-lit eyes, and
outstretched arms. The mellow oice dropped. The throb-
bing rhythm of it had palpitated with a profound emotion.
"I will tell you!” he said again, with a rush of words.
" No one has e er nown before. One night she came to me.
Clouds were tossed about the moon. Sea-brea ers bro e with
a moaning roar on the Inlet bar. The foam sprang high.
Sea—weeds and drift-wood swirled about the edge of the sea.
The hea y wa es boomed dully along the sands of the Ninety
Mile Beach. I heard her cry in the wind. It was fainter and
258
 DIANA OF THE INLET
wilder than a wild swan’s winging homeward in the twilight.
The wa es threw her high on the shelly strand. She was cold,
almost lifeless. gathered her into my arms. Her limbs were
white, li e the gleaming breast of a gull, her hair blac as a
cloud, dripping with sea-water. Chaste she was in her still—
ness, and holy. Meaning, I held her body against my breast.
All night long, chill and motionless, she lay in my arms. In
the dawning her eyelids ui ered. She cried. I murmured
words of tenderness, that the wind and the sea had taught
me to woo her with, in the days when I dreamed and waited
her coming.
“ ' Diane! Diane!’ I called her softly, the wild lo e throb-
bing in my throat.
“She trembled. Fear shrouded her eyes.
” ‘Diane!’ I prayed. Then sweet contentment lled those
beauteous eyes. She was no longer afraid. She clung to me,
and slept against my breast.
" We li ed here oyously, with laughter, and tears that were
the dew of happiness, li ed as the birds and owers do. We
chased the rills to their springs in the mountains.
“A cree came down from the hills. We lo ed him. His
life was a merry one in the early year. From a recess in the
blue depths of the hills, he sprang. A lucid pool in the green
moss-bosom 01 his mother earth, he lay. The deep shadows
of a fern dell se uestered his birth. The latticed roof 01 his
fragrant cradle was myrtle and dog wood and hazel, tall tree-
ferns, blue-tinted sapling gums, and mimosa. Lulled by the
low—dropping note 01 the bell-birds, the whispering winds in
the high mountain crags and ra ines awa ened him. He began
to wander. Stray sunlight lit golden upon him. Through
259
 THE EQUINOX
bowering trees he caught a glimpse of the blue s y abo e, and
a tossed cloudlet. He began to sing as he wound through the
shadows. He murmured against his sides. Radiant and green
they were, with meadow fringes of tasselled grass, and yellow-
eyed daisies. He mirrored mid—hea en, azure blue. The
witchery of wattles encompassed him. Golden—haired li e
naiads, in the cool recesses, they ung seducti e arms about
him. Their fragrant presence perfumed the breeze that fanned
him. Laughing sleepily, he lay in their caress, wrapt in golden
sunshine. The birds in the cool of the ban whistled and
warbled, merrily lo e-ma ing. Sil er-bellied minnows, darting
on sandy shallows, blew strings of airy pearls. A platypus
mo ed his solitary way in the shadow.
“ For miles the cree ran through arcades of wa ing wood-
land, with lulling charm of soft, low singing, and she and I
went with him. At night-fall we all three came to the sea.
The ascending star radiantly lit the s y. The great hungry
heart of the sea yearned for the ri er. And I—I yearned for
the lips of my lo e." The oice went out of him throbbed with
a great emotion.
“So passed a time of perfect happiness—so we li ed in
Eden. But one day she ran to me with sobbing cries.
“’ must lea e you, Tenderness!’ she cried piteously;
‘must lea e you. Remembrance has come, and with it a oice
of duty. I thought I had passed the portal of life when the
gods sent me to you, but it is not so. I li e—and must go to
my people.’
"’ held her fast in my arms, and owed that the gods
should not part us.’
“ My gods will
part us,’ she told me with pitiful eyes.
260
 DIANA OF THE INLET
‘They would ma e thee empt and sha en, Tenderness,’ she
cried.

“ She is gone! she is gone! ” moaned the Hermit‘

“ Sh! ” He started. A wild swan walled from a distant
co e.
”Is she calling me, or is it only memory repeating her
tones, ‘Tenderness! Tenderness!’ Diane—my soul!”
He stretched his arms to the sil er moon, as she swam
o er the hummoc s into the pale s y.

261
 CHAPTER III
I IDLED the long summer away with my Hermit.
There was lo e of men between us. He held my heart
with the philosophy and poetry of his madness. Our com-
munion of soul and mind was thought itself spea ing.
“There was a re at the end of the summer,” he told me.
“The blue haze of smo e touched the far-out sea. The heart
of the forest was still when we, she and I, wal ed there in the
heat of the day. The blue breath had crept to its inmost
recesses. The air was sultry with re. The life of the forest
was under its spell—the lea es listless, insects sleepily chir—
ring, the birds unheard. In the silence the presaging moan
of the re, hungry for the green world that lay before it, came.
It had ra ished the ridges. The billowing blac smo e swept
o er the forest. Wreaths of ame leapt higher than the tree—
tops. A terrible heat beat against our bodies. She caught at
my hand.
“‘Let us go to the boat, Tenderness,’ she cried. Her
beautiful wide eyes were lled with apprehension. She clung
to me in fear.”
The man’s throat throbbed with the slow music of his
oice, for remembrance had with it a troubled sweetness.
“'Come! Come!’ she urged. I could not mo e, for the
passion 01 lo e in me, as I held her, swallowed up fear. She
262
 DIANA OF THE INLET
drew me with gentle hands. The ames were brea ing into
our thic et of ferns and mimosa. We came to the beach. Our
boat was hea y and at-bottomed—an old sherman‘s craft.
Diane dro e the white goats into it, at one end. The wind
lled its brown sail, and we mo ed out into the sil er breast
of the Inlet. There we watched the re—billows of ame that
leapt in a glory from the leafage— re clinging and swaying—
loose fragments that ashed and melted mysteriously, in the
hea y dus of smo e, with showering spar s. I was Parsee
and worshipping. She was afraid.
“ ‘ Is it that the Gods are
angry with us? Is it a messenger
they send to ta e me away from you?’ she cried Her
beautiful wondering eyes ept my face prayerfully.
“‘No!’ I told her. ‘Fire is the All-mighty, the men of
old called it life. Does it not spea to you of power in nite
and god-li e, Belo ed?”
The massi e frame trembled with the intensity of his mood.
“ Li e children, close breathing together with worship and
wonder, we watched. The smo e crept out to us, bearing its
harsh smell of burning lea es.
”Birds dropped in the boat. Diane lo ed the birds. They
were her musicians of the woodland. Burnt and bruised, with
tremulous beating wings, they died in her hands. She smoothed
their ruf ed wings, holding them to her face with sorrowing
lo e-words. I had been loo ing towards the shore, and found
her with her lap lled with soft dead bodies. Her tears were
falling o er them.
“ ‘ They sang and were happy!‘ she said. She was aching
with the cruel horror of the re to her beautiful innocents of
earth.
263
 THE EQUINOX
“‘Who told me a God careth for his creatures?’ she
lamented. See, they are panting and hurt, Tenderness! ’

" I comforted her.

“ Loo at its beauty! Watch with me! I said, pointing to
’

the re. She pressed the feathered bodies to her breast in

lo e and grief.
“ The re displayed itself against a pall of smo e, e cres-
cent green lea es of the young gums, burning sil er and
phosphorescent, Ja elins of ame ui ered and chased. The
incense of burning lled the air. Ah! the ma esty and mystery
of Fire. All night we watched, ma ing no sound. Only the
wa es lapping under the boat, and the drift of the wind in the
sails, spa e. Once Diane whispered low, and uic , and soft,
that our hut would burn. Our eyes searched the distant shore.
The glare of the re enwrapped us. We could discern nothing
in it. High up, the ranges dar with smo e, the red columns
of smouldering trees, struc against the s y. The sea smell,
and the cool of the Inlet tides mo ing gently, refreshed us.
Towards dawn she slept, with her head on her arms at my
feet."
“ Diane! "
The word went out of the man with a deep unfathomable
intonation.
" My soul dreaming,” he continued, “I ept hand to the
helm, and day came. Distant and hazy shores hung on the
sea. Smo e, shiftless and blue, drifted along the horizon of
the sea and s y. Dim and still the mystic line, li e a pen-
cilled eto, stretched. In its desolation the forest faced us,
charred and smouldering, all the slender-limbed youth of the
greenwood. The giants and patriarchs of yesterday were
264.
 DIANA OF THE INLET
blac ened and fallen. Here and there a warrior scathed but
ali e outstood, his embattling arms stripped of greenery, of
tangled ferns and sweet-scented bushes that had clung about
his trun . Not a ower, not a sound of a li ing creature. In
its clearing our hut remained, the sentinel trees dead about it.
It seemed to ha e won through much suffering, and stood
with an air of mute homeness for us. Our hearts went out to
it, the bar dwelling of our lo e. She saw, and the oy of her
learning lit my soul. I caught her 10 my breast.
“ ‘ The Gods do lo e us! ᾽ she e claimed in gladness.
“ The cree was crying plainti ely. At noon the wind
dropped. Afterwards, the noise of thunder rattled and echoed
among the hills. It wailed away, with a moaning sob; then
awo e again in shattering crashes—a wild beast's angry fury,
sounding long, and dull, and dead, as it san muttering among
the alleys. Far o er the plains the storm swept. The thun-
derbolts, snapping, shoo the foundations of the hills. The
earth trembled. The oices of earth were mute. The thunder
bro e again and again from its remote rest, muttering, then
brea ing in impotent clashing, ma ing forests and hills and
alleys ua e.
“The rain came, shrouding the purple and hea y blue of
the hills in mist. At e ening the mists lifted. Sunshine
gleamed on the rain—wet world. A cloud curled and gathered
and hung in the western s y, a white radiant cumulus, with
long shaded lines and drifting gulfs of shadow, corrymbi, and
elds of snow. The sun lit golden on its spotless edges. In
the night—dar ness, hea y and thunderous still, in huge shape-
less masses this cloud lay. The lightning played against it,
re ealing mountainous shadows. Spasms of brilliance lit the
b 265
 THE EQUINOX
dar hills, limning each tree and lea et. The ashes circled
the plains and lay out on the cold still sea. Gaps of glory
they made among the silent trees, splashes of radiance in the
barren blac ness. Daggers of light touched forest and sea in
a ash. Through the shallow pools of fresh rain-water, mirror-
ing scattered stars, they darted. Then all was ended, of storm
and re. The globe ota sil er moon swung serene in a cloud-
less s y."
There is a marsh near the Inlet where the stillness ofdeath
reigns. A stream winds somnolently into it, and drifts to
sleep among the water-weeds. The re ection of the blue s y
lies in it. We went there together, the Hermit and 1. He was
in rough, sombre mood.
“She said a nymph slept down there,” he told me, his
oice ibrant. “ Α nymph asleep, as women are without lo e.
She used to stoop o er those damp edges, staining her white
s in with the stagnant waters, to sing and whisper mysterious
things of the man—god who would come and catch up the
dreamer from her trance, and bear her away. In the summer,
at the end of the year, the marsh was dry, the nymph gone.
Diane said that she had gone away with her lo er. The nymph
returns with Autumn. She sleeps all the winters, and springs,
and in the summer she lea es with her lo er again. The
seasons return, but my Lo e comes not bac .”
His deep melancholy oice ceased; and he strode hurriedly
away.
Peering into the green, slimy depths, I saw in fancy the
dreaming nymph, the shadow of her eyes, the ripple of her
mouth. She lies with white arms up—thrown. Her drift-
ing hair wa es with the sleepy ri er mo ement. Sun ewels
266
 DIANA OF THE INLET
spar le in it. The edges of her blue garments crin le o er
the marsh. Meadow-weeds broider her robes, green and
golden, as she sleeps all the autumns and winters and springs.
The fringes of it glisten with wor manship of water— owers.
There is a sheen of green-spun foam motionless upon it.
Seed—mosses ha e wo en her a light eiling. Yellow marsh—
marigolds with their daisy eyes a-stare stretch in a girdle to
the water’s edge. They ha e twined in her dus y hair, with
the white star— owers that shine there. Sometimes she sings
in her sleep, dreamy lilting murmurs that drop and ow
faintly. The sighing weeds echo the tremulous strain. O er
the brilliance of the waste sometimes a sea bird wings. S y
and stream are Vi id with the glory of the owers, and the
golden sunlight.

267
 CHAPTER IV
FRAGMENTARY threads ο gossip were rife about this Diane of
the Inlet. No one new whence she came—whither she dis-
appeared. Moth'r Mary constantly af rmed that she was a
witch! I laughed to thin that serious belief in the blac arts
was not dead, but found that se eral old people in this beau-
tiful wilderness of the world clung to ancient superstitions and
remnants of fol -lore.
Some shermen, dri en by a fresh breeze to a far corner
of the Inlet, had seen a shadowy gure beside the man’s on
the distant beach. They had heard weird laughter, and the
notes of a siren—song softly borne on the wind. Their sails
had apped helplessly in the wind as they tried to turn. They
had tac ed in the treacherous shallows on the further shore
Until night-fall they struggled ainly. Presently the singing
ceased, and behold! the wind at once lled the sails and the
smac s crept uietly into the broader swell. The shermen
told their story in the township, and the crones decided that
witchery had been used.
A settler‘s boy, dri ing home his straying cattle through
the marshes in mid—summer, had seen the white re ection of
a woman’s form in a dar pool of water. Voices came through
the trees. It was a mangro e and ti-tree scrub, wreathed with
the climbing and trailing ines of creepers O er the reedy,
268
 DIANA OF THE INLET
cress-grown, deep—shadowed, still waters, gauzy—winged insects
spawned. The air was thic with them. The sun shone in
shafted light on their iridescent wings. Only the wind and
the sunlight and these light-winged creatures of air had e er
pierced its depths of aporous shadow. But the boy had seen
the tall gure of the Inlet madman among the trees, seen
also a re ection of whiteness and oating hair, in the dar
pool beside him. He had heard ute—li e laughter, its echoing
melody in the leafy stillness, and a deep—throated answer. On
the outs irts of the marsh, by the beaten narrow trac , the
half-scared youngster lay in ambush. He had heard the tin ling
cattle-bells grow faint in the distance. Then, escaping from the
hidden lair, he ran away with the tale.
In the e ening, old men foregathered on the erandah of
the “Ship Inn.” Heads nodded. Tongues wagged wisely.
Mysterious tales of sorcery and the li e went round. They
con ectured that the madman had dealings with the E il One.
This was the reason of his misfortunes. The witch-woman
was, therefore, an emissary of the De il, they concluded.
An old wood-cutter told me his ersion of the mystery,
with professed dissent from the popular notion. He and some
mates had been mar ing trees in a distant part of the forest
and saw a strange spectacle.
A woman all wreathed in owers, bare-armed and bare—
footed, was enthroned on the stump of a tree. In her tangled
dus y hair showery clematis was wo en. The Hermit lay at
her feet, a trailing garland in his hands, his eyes upraised. In
the silence a branch of hazel—wood snapped. Li e a startled
wild creature the woman ed. With swift, na ed feet, her
ower draperies trailing, she anished down the long forest
269
 THE EQUINOX
aisle. The man sprang to his feet, face to face with the sur-
prised intruders. He stood, wild, erce—eyed, li e a lion at
bay. His powerful limbs were ui ering with passionate
strength. Mute and sheepish, the wood-cutter and his mates
slun away down the hill-side
Wandering high up the range, I sought the scene of this
idyll. The mountains rose li e a wall from the green of the
bush tree-tops. There were depths and depths in their blue
recesses. The slope of a timbered spur stood on the erge of
a great forest. Through dim arcades of the forest I passed.
The prime al ma esty, the immensity, of the silent tree-world
wor ed within me. There were patriarchal monarchs of the
green-wood, giants of strength and lusty leafage, young trees
in their slim, igorous youth. Maenads, with rugged bar
ying from glistening na ed limbs, tossed their fragrant
foliage. Dead trees with up-raised ghostly arms dolorously
wailed a miserere to the blue s y.
The hill—path grew steeper, the trees taller. The mountain
gums were li e columns of li ing marble, shining white in
the green forest depths. Sometimes their whiteness was
splashed with ochre, seamed with coral, stained steely blue.
Through a trac that was an alley of sweet—smelling owering
shrubs I went.
Restless torrents tossed between the hills, cascading
sil ery in blue depths of mist. I crept through the dewy fern
gro es—moist and heated, smelling of life in the fertile
mould, through damp ferny co erts of owers. In the long
forest aisles tall wa ing fern-fans shut away the light. I
passed li e a pilgrim, worshipping each fresh phase of the
way, and found the shrine.
27o
 DIANA OF THE INLET
Giant Eucalypts ranged about a grassy glade were the
columns of this woodland temple. A high aulted pa ilion of
lea es lifted and drifted in the winds, showing the blue of mid-
hea en. Mus s and hazel—woods thronged, Mimosas entirely
golden with massy down of blossoms, and acacias in e ery hue
of yellow, hedged about it.
Fern-fans wa ed against the light. Uncurling fronds of
ferny undergrowth, golden—brown and chrysoprase, spread
among the grasses. Clematis lay li e snow among the trees,
drooping in pendulous masses, casting starry trails to wea e
and twine o er the bushes. The ines of the purple sarsa—
parilla ran in festoons, and wound about the stately columns
of the gums. At their bases delicate shoots sprang in a
thic et of pale blue foliage. Near one end of the screening
leafage was the natural altar, agray, hewn tree-stump. Shatted
sunlight played o er the grassy lawn. Flights of butter ies
uttered from the shrubs.
I ung myself into the deep fragrant grasses and pondered.
There is a mysterious spell in the lonely stillness and beauty
of the forest hills. The air, with its mingled mus y aroma of
trees, its wild, hea y fragrance of owers, is narcotic. One
drifts into a hazy dreamland of imagination. The bird-music
swells, the singing and sighing of sweet notes, merry roulades,
the long, ui ering, tender breaths of sound. Throbbing
e ultant tremolos, warbling, whispering, and lonely sobbing
notes, bouts of gusty merriment, rise and all distantly on
the enchanted air. A shri e’s rippled call comes gaily from
the misty gullies. White wings sail across the tree—spaces.
From under a dewy fern the bell—bird’s mellow, li uid note
drops falteringly.
271
 THE EQUINOX
With half—closed eyeloo ed up at the gray tree stump,
1

the woodland altar. And I saw, in fancy, a ower—wreathed

woman, with shadowy hair, garlanded with starry clematis,
ser ing as priestess before it, and the gure of a strong man
who worshipped.
In this wilderness of deep green forest and sapphire Inlet,
Spring made sanctuary. What an Eden it was in its e uisite
lo eliness and solitude! Two renegade souls of our modern
time had made Eden of it. He was the Adam, purged of
"
memory, she the E e, “new-wa ed to woman's primiti e
innocence and purity.
But the day of their happiness was ended.
“ Happiness is the mirage of Life’s Desert,” I told myself.
Twilight was creeping along the istas of the forest

Moth’r Mary told me a story as she clattered bac wards

and forwards from the well in the gleaming. The old woman,
with her stooping gure, short rough s irts, folded shawl and
sun bonnet, had an old-world simplicity. The spring water
splashed o er her pails. The clan ing and arring of her
industrious occupation, the clomping of her hob-nailed boots,
accompanied the igorous recitati e. Her tongue e er wagged
lustily as she wor ed.
I hardly heeded the story as 1 watched the wor ings of
the sunset. The great wall of the forest o erhung us. Im-
penetrable, the green depths faced me, and climbed up the
range. Slim white trun s stemmed the dar ness. The sun
had set in an abandon of gold behind the tree-tops. The
afterglow gilded the ri er meads, where great—horned cattle
roamed nee—deep in herbage. Beyond were the glinting elds
272
 DIANA OF THE INLET
of yellowed summer grass, the sapphire blue of the Inlet on
their far edge.
After the old woman had gone, the story emerged from a
cell of my sub-conscious brain. Night came. The wall 01 the
hills was dar , lit with the red stars of far—off res. I mused
o er this last de elopment of the Inlet Idyll.
The rst lambs of spring were crying li e children in the
chill winds of the morning, Moth’r Mary had said, when the
madman of the Inlet strode into the township. The winter
shadow 01 the hills lay on them still. The gorse was gleaming
golden by the roadsides. Floc s of snowy geese meandering
along the way—side scattered in terror as he passed. He
carried something in his arms. The townsfol —women, bare—
Iegged children, and a few surly men, gathered curiously. He
went to Moth’r Mary‘s humpy at the 131 end 01 the road. She
crossed herself, and muttered a prayer against witchcraft,
when she saw his stalwart, un empt gure. All the country-
side feared him since the rumours of that strange companion
of his solitude had spread.
He was gentle and tender as a woman, as he unfolded his
arms. \Nrapped in the hare-s ins, he carried a childma dar -
s inned baby that walled fretfully. The man’s face was
agonized at its cry.
“ He is sic ,” he said, gi ing the Child to Moth’r Mary,
with piteous eyes.
Half compassionately, half fearfully, the old woman too
the infant. He left it with her, but came often again to the
township bringing her sh and sea-fowl. She lost fear at
the sight of him; scolded him garrulously, ranted, and
interrogated.
273
 THE EQUINOX
But to no purpose. He said the child belonged to him and
would say no more.
She protested that the Hermit was “ soft," not mad. With
serious, tender eyes he watched the child grow, always bring-
ing it some bright feathers or sea-shells to play with.
My rst impulse was to attribute the man’s action to a
compassionate instinct for some woodman’s sic child. Scat-
tered through the forests were the bar huts of log—men and
road—menders. It found no answering sympathy. The solution
to the rustic‘s mind was the witch woman’s e istence. I
found myself agreeing with them, apart from all fanciful
interpretation.
He grew up a slight, wild, merry creature, this boy, and
became the scourge of his old foster-mother‘s life, with his
mischie ous ways. He was always coming bac to her, with
a will-o’-the—wisp affection. The neighbours called him “The
De il‘s Brat,” with odd superstition that powers of e il had
been agents of his birth. He was a lonely child. The man at
the Inlet missed him for wee s sometimes. And at night an
el sh face peering in at her window would gi e Moth’r Mary
such a shoc that she muttered prayers and charms to herself
half the night. Then at dawn her maternal heart would melt
when she found a bare, brown body asleep on her doorstep,
and saw the pathos of the child face in the weariness and peace
of sleep. She crooned a rare wealth of lo e and pity o er him.
On winter nights she left the door unlatched, and by the dead
lea es round the hearth she new who had sheltered there.
Gifts of wild honey, wattle gum, wild cherries, and such li e
childish things, he la ished upon her.
He ept the good country—fol in a tremor with his antics.
274
 DIANA OF THE INLET
He stole their fruit, and chased their cattle away till they
were lost beyond trace in the hills. He lo ed to dash into
their itchens, li e a wild thing out of the night. He would
laugh and blin at the res. The farmers’ wi es called him
" De il’s Brat," and, with superstitious fear of contamination,
chased him away from their own sonsy and blithe children

275
 CHAPTER V
THOUGHT is the music of consciousness. It is the singing
oice of the soul. From a world of intense thin ing this
man had passed. With clouded brain, as from sleep awa ened,
he went into the morning 01 a new life; from the dar ness 01
pessimism into the daylight, with eyes dazzled, and the faith
of a Child. Το him the stars were angels’ eyes. Earth was a
garden—the garden 01 God. The winds and the sun and the
sea had oices, and breathed in his soul. Tutelary nature bred
sense anew, with wild untrammelled strength. The poetry of
an intense mind thro e. A woman’s presence had won him
from taciturn sa agery.
Was he mad, or was that solitary e istence a phase of the
eccentricity to which great minds are a in? I as ed myself,
What of the woman? Was she some agabond gipsy
creature or perhaps the baggage of a distant islander?
Their mutual lo e had imparadised life. That was all I
now
We became close companions, this lonely Man of the Inlet
and I. And we would lie together for hours on the sands in
the sunlight. In my company his strange restlessness was
abated, and although there was a frontier o er which his
memory of personal things could not pass, his mind in the
impersonal realm was igorous and untrammelled.
276
 DIANA OF THE INLET
It was one day ust after he had left me that I made a
disco ery. The point of a sapling with which I carelessly
disturbed the sand suddenly brought to light a wreath of red
berries tied with a woman‘s dar hair.
Gently and carefully searched the sand with my hands,
and found two shell-strung armlets and a nec lace of gray
sea-pearls. A woman’s ornaments, surely!
Then a piece of newspaper, yellow with sea-water and
scarcely legible, hidden among some shells, came to light.
But I read on this scrap of papera paragraph which intimated
that a search party was setting out with a iew of disco ering
traces of a young lady who had been lost o erboard from a
craft called the “ Maiai.” The essel had encountered hea y
weather rounding the Promontory. A welcome lull occurring
after sunset put the passengers and crew off their guard.
Suddenly without the slightest warning an immense sea rose.
“Big as a mountain,” the captain said. It thundered with
terri c crash upon the dec s, sweeping the essel from end to
end. In a few minutes the sea was again tran uili Some
seamen had obser ed a woman's gure standing aft before the
sea came. The lady, it was feared, had been swept off in the
receding swirl of the wa e. Some hope was entertained of her
being pic ed up by stray shermen and being still ali e on
some desolate Straits Island.
The paper was torn where a name had been written.
With the guilty sensations of a peeping Tom, I peered
further into the mystery. According to the ship’s reading, the
wa e had arisen in lat. 38" 5’, and long. 146” 4’ 5’ west. That
would therefore be due east of the Promontory about thirty
miles—the place where my hermit found his Diane.
277
 THE EQUINOX
The Powers who in the British churl “ chancelled the sense
misused ” here blinded me. 1 threw my imagination into the
balance with that madman’s. The poesy of circumstance, the
contemplation 01 a “ soul set free,” lled me. A ery re elry
it was, in the uphea al of those “ laws by which the esh bars
in the spirit.” Lo e lies abo e oursel es. It is that pure
inspiration of the great spirit which made idyll in Eden.
This, then, was the ha en the immaculate woman of my
conception had found. I wondered why she had left her Eden
solitudes. Was it fear for the mam—fear of his passion and
sa age strength if force separated her from him? Did she
thin he was mad? Would they ha e fettered those splendid
limbs, heaped insult and ignominy on the dignity 01 that
great, simple mind? I seemed to hear a oice pleading with
me, the echo of a cry.
“They would ma e thee empt and sha en, Tenderness!"
And again the hopeful “ will come again!"
This scrap 01 paper must ha e come in the drift 01
shermen’s a’e’ m‘s. She had seen it and ed to sta e 011 dis-
co ery.
thought deeply on the tangled s ein of our instincts and
1

con entions. The tide was low. The channels, between the
green mud-ban s, were blue as the cloudless s y. Sea-birds
were feeding on their edge. Gulls and gannets, gathering
along the beach and wading in the sil er—la ed sand, softly
whistled among themsel es.
The wa es rushed murmuringly. Wild swans sailed o er
the broad bosom 011110 Inlet. Sea—snipe wheeled with a ash
01 sil ery wings. Great brown gulls ho ered o er my head.
The wing of a white gull cut the blue s y. The wet sands
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 DIANA OF THE INLET
swarmed with crabs. They peered at me, in re erie, in eigh—
ing against the arti cialities of life. Pertinently, I read them
a sermon.
“ Dearly belo ed Brethren!" said I. “ The night is
gathering out in the west. The tide is coming. Surely it will
creep o er you, and sweep your shells of being into the ocean
of the Un nown. Put not your trust, your foolish, sh-li e
con dence, in sea—fowl, little Brothers. Your opal bac s, your
yellow, frec led legs and golden claws, are anity. Behold the
gull how he sails the ether, touches the mountain clouds of
hea en, pierces the eil of the distance, fathoms the green
depths of the sea. He li es, inspiring ozone on the limitless
horizon, the incense breath of earth, fed from the foams of
summer-lapped islands, and 10! is a Solomon ing-crab in all
his glory li e unto him?
" Crabs! O Crabs! ye are dead in the shells of
your con-
entionalities. You emerald-legged fellow sitting athwart a
coc le-bed, mud-grubber, solemn and silent, lea e worms
and other sweetmeats, mistress, thy prying into massy sea-
weeds and tawdry gew-gaws. Regard the sun. Hear the wind
—the oice of the world, for it is written, ‘ye shall lie on the
sea—shore, among the calcareous fragments of shell- sh and
amphitrite, till the tempests of time annihilate the record of
your e istence.‘
“ One thing is certain that life ies One thing is certain’
and the rest is lies!” chanted, and said " Amen."
The soiled piece of newspaper was crushed in my hand.
" Good-bye,” I called softly to the solitary gure of the
Hermit, standing alone in the sunlight. He was loo ing sea—
wards and did not answer me.
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 THE EQUINOX
" Good-bye, my friend," I called again. “I am going on
embassy to the Moon; shall I tell the woman you want her?”
For I wanted to nd her—Diana of the Inlet.
I had been wandering at dawn one day. Coming bac to
my humpy, the sun at the zenith, the hunger of man—human
and healthy—gnawed at my Vitals. Sounds of disturbance
greeted me, a clac ing of fowls, and bar ing of dogs—my
household gods in angel: A harsh oice and shrill impish
laughter mingled.
Through the trees I could see Moth’r Mary chasing a
half—na ed youngster with a hea y stic . Her short s irts
were ying.
The boy was darting among the apple trees, his bronze
limbs brushing the greenery, his moc ing and teasing laughter
e ing the old woman to tempests of rage. He had apples in
his hands, red—russet, striped yellow and scarlet beauties that
were the pride and oy of her life. She lo ed to hoard and
gaze at them when the south—wester blew up in sleety rain
from the sea, and the snow lay hea ily on the gray hills.
She stood still when she saw me, sha ing her notted sts
at the recreant. Her gray-green eyes were awful. She
spluttered and spat in her haste to tell me of the ragged imp.
He was a handsome, fearless child, and chewed his red
apples with wic ed eyes that were ali e with merry mischief
and alert for ight if need be.
“Ochl Mastherl” cried the old woman, “ th’ De il’s brat
is after thie in’ yer apples, surre! Th' ceows ’6 ’ e let into the
latrnent ’f turnips. I wus carryin’ pim- ins ’nd marrers from
the paddic s, ’n I heart un shoutin’. I thogt that I was dune
wid un, I do!”
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 DIANA OF THE INLET
She turned in rage upon the boy. He s ipped behind the
apple tree.
“ Och thin! I’ll be after yees! " she yelled. But she
trundled away into the house to get me something to eat.
“ It’s him!" she whispered mysteriously to me, preparing
the meal, “th‘ De il’s bratl Shut-re he do be sassy;” she
clasped her old hands, the yellow bony hands of toil. Through
the dar thin lashesl saw her eyes gleam tenderly. “Poor
baby, whisher, whisher, God bliss 'iml Itu bard in th’ winter
mesilf, and T’rasa me darter, surre, she cum ’nd say to me,
‘ye’re dyin’, shurre, y’are,’ she ses, ‘it’s no good feedin’ yer,
’n’ doin’ fer yer; ye’ll die,’ she ses. ‘lt‘d be waste gi in’ ye
what there’s many hungering for.’
“ But De il‘s brat cum ’n’ did fer me, he do.”
She raised her hands and sighed happily. "Och! thin,"
she went on, the withered old face bright with its simple glad-
ness. “I didn’t die."
The boy leapt out of the sunshine. He ung a heap of
blossom on to the ags of Moth‘r Mary‘s itchen. Instantly
the hum of scores of locusts arose. A merry wild thing, he
sped off again with peals of impish laughter.
The old woman clattered after him, in eighing and scolding
indefatigably.

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 CHAPTER VI
AUSTRALIA is the happy hunting ground of my wayward Ego.
Elsewhere, the wearied limbs are carried in incessant pilgrim—
age. Here inebriate, with senses beauty- lled, it droops and
dreams li e a Lotus-eater, deep asleep yet deep awa e.
“Oh! rest ye, brother Mariners! Rest yel" here in the
clear air, dewy plains, the blue hills and hea ily shaded alleys.
Among the trees the shadows lie. Radiant sunlight falls o er
the elds. The dead grasses glow golden. Shafts of purest
light cross the shadows the trees cast.
A symphony of bird—singing, opening with the rst ush
of dawn in the mellow plains and forest aisles, lls the air
with outbursts at rst; and then rapturous melodies, ute-li e
cadenzas of oy, proclaim, “ Belo ed, it is morn! " Descant-
ing on the oy of life, the purity ο Nature, the arisen sun, the
bird world sings.
P ans of irresistible oyous praise ll the sunny morning
hours. The hoarse bass of crows, ah, ah, ah—ing, away on
the plains, the winds leafy murmur in the trees, and the
merry derisi e cac le of laughing ac asses, mingle. Wander-
ing bands of magpies in wild ain-glorious minstrelsy warble
their lays of romance and daring. Some songster, prolonging
the theme with ne conceit in his tuning and turns, out-carols
his choir. The soft throaty chatter of parro uets, the chuc le
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 DIANA OF THE INLET
ofa gray myna in the bole ofa tree, and the buoyant communion
of her mate, the long piping call of mud-lar s across the ats,
the laughing echo of ac asses among the blue depths of
distant hills, fuse in the intermezzo of gladness.
Small birds lift their faint, sweet roundelay. They chirp
and chatter to each other among the thic ets, litanies of lo e
and happiness, little thrilling snatches of song, ibrating,
irresponsi e ecstasies. The soft chirring of the insect-peopled
grasses ourishes sweet accompaniment. All the bright hours
the soft singing continues. Large amber—winged grasshoppers
idly hum about dandelions in the dry, dead grass. Rene—
gade cicadas sing lustily. Butter ies toss in the light airi
The ef orescent trees and sweet shrubs breathe wild warm
fragrance.
I was re elling in my pure oy of life in this golden
south, when I became conscious that I was not there
alone.
A woman was there as well as I, a woman of star-li e eyes
and chill beauty. She ashed past me in the forest, running
li e a startled hare. The wild scarlet had leapt to her chee s.
In her loosened hair, briars caught. The ines of a gay, wild
weed were twined in it. The heath of the dunes was in sight
before her feet lagged.
The sand of the hummoc s, the golden gleam of the
Ninety-mile sands, caught her eye. She climbed the crest of
a hilloc . It swept steeply down and another sister hilloc
rose from its base Her nostrils caught the sea—smell Sil er
meshes of the Inlet were ust isible between the hills.
She laughed wildly and sweetly. The roseate heath crept
li e a ush o er the hill-side. The purple mists drifted
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 THE EQUINOX
between the trees in the alley. The full gleam of the distant
sunlit Inlet re ealed itself.
“ Tenderness! " she called with ringing oice.
Sometimes falling in the red heath she ran on, calling
often again with uic sweet laughter. She struggled for
breath, her limbs trembling and esh torn,
“ Man! Tenderness! " she cried.
Once she waited as she called. Far o er the tells the wind
had seemed to breathe ”Diane!" as it touched her. Merry
wanton laughter was wafted away with it. She ran calling
along the Inlet beach, calling, calling. No windy murmur
answered. Only the echoes rang—echoes of a name,
“ Tenderness! Tenderness! ” drifted o er the Inlet, ming-
ling with the whirr of winds and the cries of the startled sea-
birds.
“ Man! Tenderness! ” she cried, sobbing now, “ Where
are you? Where are you?"
The wind on the hea ing sea snatched at the sound.
“ Where are you? are you?” it wailed.
The clear sandy beach was silent. The bar hut in the
sheltered co e was empty, its doors a ar. Along the boisterous
little cree was no sign of li ing creature. Only a water—rat
splashed out of sight as the woman lifted the green boughs of
the trees. She turned seawards again. Her tremulous lips
framed soundlessly the yearning cry. Her eyes were grown
dar and distended with the agony of that aloneness.
From out a tussoc y hole in the ban ed-up sand, a dar —
s inned, scantily clothed thing, with towsled head and bright,
shy eyes crept. It was more li e some small wild beast than
a child.
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 DIANA OF THE INLET
The woman caught at him.
”Where is he? Where is he?” she as ed ercely. The
boy whimpered.
”Where is he?” the hoarse whispered oice implored.
This strange woman with her torn clothing insisted roughly.
”Him?” ueried the child, fearing, and pointed in the
direction 01 the bar hut.
”Yes! Yes! ” panted the woman.
The child cried softly.
“We were getting birds’ eggs in the tussoc s,” he said
presently.
“Some one was calling. He put up his arms and ran to
the sand—ban , calling to it. He wal ed right out calling. He
was mad. was feart,“ wailed the child. “I could see him
awhile, his head bobbing about among the brea ers, out
there."
A brown nger pointed to where the ocean brea ers tossed
white foam on the Inlet bar.
“Then the sea went o er him." The child sobbed as the
woman hung o er him. “ The wa es came in bigger ’n bigger.
I was feart. The calling came nearer’n nearer. I thought it
was witches.”
Lifting wild, frightened eyes, he continued, " Moth’r Mary
tellt me of th' witch of th’ Inlet. I hid in th' grass. It must
ha e been your calling,” he added. “I heart you meself, but
I thought it was witches—0r— dead men coming out of the
sea to catch me."
The woman laughed harshly. The child bro e away from
her detaining clasp.
She ran to the outer beach. For ninety miles the sea
285
 THE EQUINOX
thundered, thundered and crashed on its wind-swept sands.
\Vith muf ed boom and roar, wa es bro e on the bar. The
wa es rushed shorewards, dar -shadowed, foaming-Upped,
with dripping aws agape—the hungry pac of the [cups de
mer, With hollow growl of baf ed rage, they crashed in foam
and seethed bac , shrie ing their terror and spite to the far-
off sea.
The wild, eet gure of a woman sped o er the sands,
calling her prayers and a name to the pitiless winds, in an
agony that was madness. O ercome at last, she san on the
sand. The spray sprang o er her desolate gure. The wind
lashed her wet hair, her face, with its deathly pallor. Her
eyes were wide with the unearthly light of in nite pain. She
lay on the lonely shore, shrie ing a frenzied lamentation.
Night was glooming in. A child stole across the sand.
Silently he watched beside the solitary gure. The woman’s
clothing was soa ed, the rime of the sea-spray lay in her
tangled hair. The child crept against the dan form. His
serious eyes, wet with distress, co ered her. He pressed a
bare brown hand against her face in mute sympathy. The
woman pushed him roughly away. He touched her stiff hands
with compassionate sorrow. The woman mo ed. She drew
bac and loo ed at him. Her face stern and sun en, deathly
pallid, with eyes distended, and acant, tense lips, she con—
fronted the child.
“Who are you?” she gasped hoarsely, straining her eyes
on the wistful small face.
" Don’t now," he whispered awefully, “ Moth’r Mary said
I b’longed to him,” glancing o er towards where the hut was
hidden in the co e.
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 DIANA OF THE INLET
“ She had me, when I was a baby, but I b’longed to him,"
he reiterated plainti ely.
The woman’s gaze was steady. She de oured the upturned
face with eager eyes. It was wan in the twilight, a child's
face, tanned with sun and sea, bearing nobility of feature and
luminous eyes.
“What is your name?" she demanded softly.
" Moth'r Mary said, he at the Inlet had sold himself to
the De il. She said that no mortal woman was my moth’r
li e th’ children of th’ Dara. She said that I came from a re
in th’ earth. They called me the De il’s brat. He said, the
gods ga e me, and my mother was the moon."
The hoarse chuc le of insane laughter gurgled in the
woman’s throat. She screamed, clutching at her sea-wet hair,
with fearful eyes.
The child began to cry softly.
Then a melting tenderness lled those staring eyes. A
smile mo ed her lips. A low sad sobbing welled sweetly in
her throat. She turned to the child with tremulous lips and
bosom, and tearful eyes. She called softly to him with in nite
lo e and opened arms. Radiant e pectancy was in her shining
eyes. He crept into her arms. She cried and sang o er him,
with oice tuned to a lay of passionate soothing lo e.
On the lonely sea—shore the brea ing wa es tossed spectral
foam. The sea moaned and wept along its length. A solitary
star sprang in the twilight s y.

I found them together, the lonely boy and that wild witch-
woman of Inlet superstition; her beautiful face, the haunting
sorrow of her eyes, are with me still.
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 THE EQUINOX
She tal ed to me with a tender calm. There was deep sad-
ness in the note of her oice. A fearless dignity and e pres—
sion 01 chill nobility enwrapped her.
" My mind is clouded with the dream of a distant time,”
she said, ”a pungent memory, phantom—li e, has haunted me.
In my life and the world beyond, my senses swooned on the
memory of the Inlet. Then came a thrill of eener recol-
lection.”
She spo e on, with dreaming eyes. The pressure of strong
feeling assuaged throbbed in her soft, low oice.
“I recognize in myself that primiti e Woman who arises
to moc at ci ilization and creeds,” she said. “The blood of
Mother E e beats against my brain."
“I want the man! my man—Adam of the Inlet shores! ”
her arms mo ed outwards tremulously. “Here is the I, the
woman soaring o er the immolation of Life, the detestable,
heartless hopelessness of e istence. I am come bac to the
Inlet!” she said.
Her words oiced with a throbbing passion fell softly into
silence Then she spo e again, with the slow speech of a mind
far away.
“The moon is rising on the Inlet,” she said, “a pale,
sil er moon in a dim s y; can't you see it, brea ing on the
dim waters, The wailing 01 the swans, the cries 01 the gulls,
the moan 01 the struggling sea, don’t you hear them?
“ It was the moon he lo ed as did Endymion. And when I
came—a mortal woman, self—sent from a barren and desolate
life, he lo ed and called me after her.”
“Diane! Diane!” Was it the faint wailing note 01 a wild
swan that beat the still air?
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 DIANA OF THE INLET
“ Coming! Coming! " she cried with low harmonious oice
of oyful promise.
She lifted the dar —s inned boy and laid him against her
breast.
“ Our two sel es
ga e thee Soul, Belo ed," she murmured
passionately, cradling the soft dar head in her arms.

Round all the Inlet islands the dawn came stealing, out-
lining the co es and headlands with a sil er thread. All the
sea—birds awo e in clamorous choir, with whirring wings.
Wild swans too their arrowy ight across the shining surface
of the Inlet. Spec led snipe, and red-bills, and oyster-
catchers were feeding at the sil er brim of the sea, Α pelican
arose from a sandy co e, and with slow apping ight winged
seawards.
On an upland that ga e on the Inlet panorama, a woman
Stood. Her eyes, and the sorrowful thought stirring in their
depths, bade farewell to the beautiful scene, the sapphire
blue, loc ed on the west by bold distant mountains. Purple
they were, transfused with the pin glow of the morning
s y. The broad e panse of the Paci c lay beyond the Inlet.
Sea—brea ers rose against the s y. Curlews were rising in
clouds, with shining wings, and shrilled distantly their soft
melancholy calls.
Her tears were falling. They mo ed slowly from sight of
the Inlet shores—the woman and the child, with clinging
hands.

A great moon is rising on the Inlet now, as I ha e often

seen it rise, red-gold. The re ection falling, red—gold li e a
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 THE EQUINOX
wedding-ring, Clasps earth and s y. Under the moon a line
of wild swans drifts with shrill melancholy piping. The moon—
light touches the co es. The water wa es from gold to sil er.
Sea and earth are still, as in an enthralment.
The ision of the woman oats to my memory—Diane of
the Inlet. Her oice clear and thrilling echoes its own fateful
story. Beside her comes a man with splendid strength of
limb and primiti e mind. I hear his deep, tender calling to
the rising moon.
“Diane! Diane!”
All the changing scene and colour of the Inlet rises again
before me, and the idyll of the madman of the Inlet and the
Diane of his imagination.

FINIS

SILENCE
AMID the thunder of the rolling spheres,
Herself unchanged despite the changing years,
She stands supreme, alone.
With trembling hands tight pressed to rigid ears,
Deaf to all prayers, and hopes, and human tears,
One oiceless Horror—louder than all fears,
Filling the great Un nown.
ETHEL ARCHER.
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 MEMORY OF LOVE
0 DREAD Desire of Lo e! Ο lips and eyes!
0 image of the lo e that ne er dies,
But, fed by furti e re, rages most
When Hope and Faith ha e been for e er lost!
0 oft- issed lips and soul-remembered eyes’
Ο stric en heart—the old lo e ne er dies!

O Passion of dead lips that used to cling

To warm red li ing ones that breathed no pain!
0 Passion of dead hours that daily bring
Το life some phantom pale that died in ain! . . .

Some echo tuned to Memory‘s dying strain,

Some witness of the immemorial spring!
MEREDITH STARR.

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ACROSS THE GULF

293
 ACROSS THE GULF
CHAPTER 1

AT last the matter comes bac into my mind.

It is now e years since I disco ered my ste/ at Bula ,
but not until I obtained certain initiation in the city of Benares
last year did the memory of my life in the Twenty—Si th
Dynasty when I was prince and priest in Thebai begin to
return. E en now much is obscure; but 1 am commanded to
write, so that in writing the full memory may be reco ered.
For without the perfect nowledge and understanding of that
strange life by Nilus I cannot fully now and understand this
later life, or nd that Tomb which I am appointed to nd, and
do that therein which must be done
Therefore with faith and con dence do I who was—in a
certain mystical sense—the Priest of the Princes, An h-f—na—
honsu, child of Ta—nech, the holy and mighty one, and of
Bes-na—Maut, priestess of the Starry One, set myself to tell
myself the strange things that befell me in that life.
Thus.
At my birth Aphruimis in the sign of the Lion was
ascending, and in it that strange hidden planet that presides
o er dar ness and magic and forbidden lo e. The sun was
united with the planet of Amoun, but in the Abyss, as showing
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 THE EQUI NOX
that my power and glory should be secret, and in Aterechinis
the second decanate of the House of Maat, so that my passion
and pleasure should li ewise be unprofane. In the House of
Tra el in the Sign of the Ram was the Moon my sweet lady.
And the wise men interpreted this as a to en that I should
tra el afar; it might be to the great temple at the source of
mother Nile; it might be . . .
Foolishness! I ha e scarce stirred from Thebai.
Yet ha e I e plored strange countries that they new not
of: and of this also will I tell in due course.
I remember—as I ne er could while I li ed in Khemi-
land—all the minute care of my birth. For my mother was
of the oldest house in Thebes, her blood not only royal, but
mi ed with the di ine. Fifty irgins in their sil er tissue
stood about her sha ing their sistrons, as if the laughter of
the Gods echoed the cries of the woman. By the bed stood
the Priest of Horus with his hea y staff, the Phoeni for its
head, the prong for its foot. Watchful he stood lest Sebe
should rise from the abyss.
On the roof of the Palace watched the three chief astrologers
of Pharaoh with their instruments, and four armed men from
the corners of the tower announced each god as it rose. 50
these three men ached and sweated at their tas ; for they had
become most an ious, All day my birth had been e pected;
but as Toum drew to His setting their faces grew paler than
the s y; for there was one dread moment in the night which
all their art had failed to udge. The gods that watched o er
it were eiled.
But it seemed unli ely that Fate would so decide; yet so
they feared that they sent down to the priest of Thoth to say
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 ACROSS THE GULF
that he must at all costs a oid the threatening moment, e en
if the li es of mother and child should pay for it; and still
the watchmen cried the hour. Now, now! cried the oldest of
the astrologers as the moment grew near—now! Below in
answer the priest of Thoth summoned all his s ill.
When 10! a rumbling of the abyss. The palace reeled and
fell; Typhon rose mighty in destruction, striding across the
s ies. The world roc ed with earth ua e; e ery star bro e
from its fastening and trembled.
And in the midst lo! Bes—na—Maut my mother; and in her
arms myself, laughing in the midst of all that ruin. Yet not
one li ing creature too the slightest hurt! But the astrologers
rent their robes and beat their faces on the ground; for the
dread moment, the Un nown Terror, had gone by; and with
it I had come to light.
In their terror, indeed, as I learnt long after, they sent
messengers to the oldest and wisest of the priests; the High—
priest of Nuit, who li ed at the bottom of a ery deep well, so
that his eyes, e en by day, should remain ed upon the stars.
But he answered them that since they had done all that
they could, and Fate had re ersed their design, it was e ident
that the matter was in the hands of Fate, and that the less
they meddled the better it would be for them. For he was a
brus ue old man—how afterwards I met him shall be written
in its place.
So then I was to be brought up as be tted one in my
station, half-prince, half—priest. I was to follow my father,
hold his wand and an h, assume his throne.
And now I begin to recall some details 01 my preparation
for that high and holy tas .
d 297
 THE EQUINOX
Memory is strangely fragmentary and strangely i id. I
remember how, when I had completed my fourth month, the
priests too me and wrapped me in a panther’s s in, whose
aming gold and et—blac spots were li e the sun. They
carried me to the ri er ban where the holy crocodiles were
bas ing; and there they laid me. But when they left me they
refrained from the usual enchauntment against the e il spirit
of the crocodile; and so for three days I lay without pro-
tection. Only at certain hours did my mother descend to feed
me; and she too was silent, being dressed as a princess only,
without the sacred badges of her of ce.
Also in the si th month they e posed me to the Sun in
the desert where was no shade or clothing; and in the se enth
month they laid me in a bed with a sorceress, that fed on the
blood of young children, and, ha ing been in prison for a long
time, was bitterly an—hungered; and in the eighth month they
ga e me the aspic of Nile, and the Royal Uraeus serpent, and
the deadly sna e of the South country, for playmates; but I
passed scatheless through all these trials.
And in the ninth month I was weaned, and my mother
bade me farewell, for ne er again might she loo upon my
face, sa e in the secret rites of the Gods, when we should
meet otherwise than as babe and mother, in the garment of
that Second Birth which we of Khemi new.
The ne t si years of my life ha e utterly faded. All that
I can recall is the ision of the greatness of our city ofThebai,
and the se erity of my life. For I li ed on the bac of a
horse, e en eating and drin ing as I rode; for so it becometh
a prince. Also I was trained to lay about me with a sword,
and in the use of the bow and the spear. For it was said that
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 ACROSS THE GULF
Horus—or Men Tu, as we called Him in Thebai—was my
Father and my God. I shall spea later of that strange story
of my begetting.
At the end of se en years, howe er, so great and strong
had I wa en that my father too me to the old astrologer that
dwelt in the well to consult him. This I remember as if it
were but yesterday. The ourney down the great ri er with
its slow days! The crea ing benches and the sweat ofthe sla es
are still in my ears and my nostrils. Then swift moments
of ying foam in some rapid or cataract. The great temples
that we passed; the solitary Ibis of Thoth that meditated on
the shore; the crimson ights of birds;—-but nothing that we
saw upon the ourney was li e unto the end thereof. For in
a desolate place was the Well, with but a small temple beside
it, where the ser ants—they too most holy! of that holy ancient
man might dwell.
And my father brought me to the mouth of the well and
called thrice upon the name of Nuit. Then came a oice
climbing and coiling up the walls li e a serpent, “Let this
child become priestess of the Veiled One! ”
Now my father was wise enough to now that the old man
ne er made a mista e; it was only a uestion of a right inter—
pretation of the oracle Yet he was sorely puzzled and dis—
tressed, for that I was a boy child. So at the ris of his life—
for the old man was brus uel—he called again and said
“ Behold "
my son!
But as he spo e a shaft of sunlight smote him on the nape
of the nec as he bent o er the well; and his face blac ened,
and his blood gushed forth from his month. And the old man
lapped up the blood of my father with his tongue, and cried
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 THE EQUINOX
gleefully to his ser ants to carry me to a house of the Veiled
One, there to be trained in my new life.
So there came forth from the little house an eunuch and
a young woman e ceeding fair; and the eunuch saddled two
horses, and we rode into the desert alone.
Now though I could ride li e a man, they suffered me not;
but the young priestess bore me in her arms. And though I
ate meat li e a warrior, they suffered me not, but the young
priestess fed me at her breast.
And they too from me the armour of gilded bronze that
my father had made for me, scales li e a crocodile’s sewn upon
crocodile s in that cunning men had cured with salt and spices;
but they wrapped me in soft green sil .
So strangely we came to a little house in the desert, and
that which befell me there is not gi en me of the gods at this
time to tell; but I will sleep; and in the morning by their
fa our the memory thereof shall arise in me, e en in me across
these thousands of years of the whirling of the earth in her
course.

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 CHAPTER 11

SO for many years I grew slee and subtle in my woman’s

attire. And the old eunuch (who was ery wise) instructed
me in the Art of Magic and in the worship of the Veiled One,
whose priestess was I destined.
I remember now many things concerning those strange
rituals, things too sacred to write. But I will tell of an
ad enture that I had when I was nine years of age.
In one of the sacred boo s it is written that the secret of
that subtle draught which gi eth ision of the star-abodes of
Duant, whose sight is life eternal in freedom and pleasure
among the li ing, lieth in the use of a certain little secret
bone that is in the Bear of Syria. Yet how should I a child
slay such an one? For they had ta en all weapons from me.
But in a garden of the city (for we had now returned unto
a house in the suburbs of Thebai) was a colony of bears ept
by a great lord for his pleasure. And I by my cunning enticed
a young bear—cub from its dam, and slew it with a great stone.
Then I tore off its s in and hid myself therein, ta ing also its
aw and sharpening the same upon my stone. Then at last
the old she-bear came searching me, and as she put down her
nose to smell at me, ta ing me for her cub, I dro e my
sharpened bone into her throat.
I struc with great fortune; for she coughed once, and
died.
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 THE EQUINOX
Then I too her s in with great labour; and (for it was
now night) began to return to my house. But I was utterly
weary and I could no longer climb the wall. Yet I stayed
awa e all that night, sharpening again upon my stone the
aw—bone of that bear—cub; and this time I bound it to a
bough that I tore off from a certain tree that grew in the
garden.
Now towards the morning I fell asleep, wrapped in the
s in of the old she—bear. And the great bear himself, the lord
of the garden, saw me, and too me for his mate, and came
to ta e his pleasure of me. Then I being roused out of sleep
struc at his heart with all my strength as he rose o er me,
and uitting my shelter ran among the trees. For I struc
not home, or struc aslant. And the old bear, sore wounded,
tore up the s in of his mate; and then, disco ering the cheat,
came after me
But by good fortune I found and wedged myself into a
narrow pylon, too deep for him to reach me, though I could
not go through, for the door was closed upon me. And in the
angle of the door was an old sword disused. This was too
hea y for me to wield with ease; yet I lifted it, and struc
feebly at the claws of the bear. So much I wounded him that
in his pain he dropped and withdrew and began to lic his
paws. Thus he forgot about me; and I, growing bolder, ran
out upon hii-ni He opened his mouth; but before he could
rise, I thrust the sword down it. He tossed his head; and I,
clinging to the sword—hilt, was thrown into the air, and fell
hea ily upon my shoulder. My head too struc the ground;
and I lay stunned.
When I came to myself it was that a party of men and
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 ACROSS THE GULF
women had thrown water in my face and uttered the spells
that re i e from swoon. Beside me, close beside me, lay mine
enemy dead; and I, not forgetful of my uest, too the blade
Of the sword (for it was snapt) and cutoff the secret parts of
the bear and too the little bone thereof; and would ha e gone
forth with my prize. But the great lord of the house spa e
with me; and all his friends made as if to moc at me. But
the women would not ha e it; they came round me and petted
and caressed me; so that angry words were spo en.
But e en as they uarrelled among themsel es, my guard-
ian, the old eunuch, appeared among them; for he had traced
me to the garden.
And when they beheld the ring of the holy ancient man
the astrologer they trembled; and the lord of the house threw
a chain of gold around my nec , while his lady ga e me her
own sil en scarf, broidered with the lo es of Isis and Nephthys,
and of Apis and Hathor. Nor did any dare to ta e from me
the little bone that I had won so dearly; and with it I made
the spell of the Eli ir, and beheld the starry abodes of Duant,
e en as it was written in the old wise boo .
But my guardians were ashamed and perple ed; for though
I was so slee and subtle, yet my manhood already glowed in
such deeds as this—how should I truly become the priestess
of the Veiled One.
Therefore they ept me closer and nursed 1116 with lu ury
and attery. I had two negro sla e-boys that fanned me and
that fed me; I had an harp-player from the great city of
Memphis, that played languorous tunes. But in my mis—
chief I would constantly e cite him to thoughts of war and
of lo e; and his music would grow iolent and loud, so
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 THE EQUINOX
that the old eunuch, rushing in, would belabour him with his
staff.
How well I recall that room! Large was it and lofty; and
there were sculptured pillars of malachite and lapis—lazuli and
of porphyry and yellow marble. The oor was of blac granite;
the roof of white marble On the Southern side was my couch,
a softness of e otic furs. Το roll in them was to gasp or
pleasure. In the centre was a tiny fountain of pure gold. The
sunlight came through the space between the walls and the
roof, while on the other sides I could loo through and up
into the in nite blue.
There was a great python that inhabited the hall; but he
was ery old, and too wise to stir. But—so I then belie ed—-
he watched me and con eyed intelligence to the old magus of
the well.
Now then the folly of my guardians appeared in this; that
while all day I slept and languished and played idly, at night
while they supposed I slept, I slept not. But I rose and ga e
myself to the most iolent e ercises. First, I would go into
my bathing-pool and hold my breath beneath the water while
I in o ed the goddess Auramoth one hundred times. Ne t, I
would wal on my hands around the room; I e en succeeded
in hopping on one hand. Ne t, I would climb each of the
twenty-four smooth pillars Ne t, I would practise the se enty-
two athletic postures. Also in many other ways I would stri e
to ma e my strength e ceeding great; and all this I ept most
secret from my guardians.
At last on one night I resol ed to try my strength; so,
pushing aside the curtain, I passed into the corridor. Spring-
ing upon the soldier that guarded me, I brought him to the
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 ACROSS THE GULF
ground; and with my right hand under his chin, my left on
his right shoulder, and my nee at the nape of his nec , I tore
his head from his body before he could utter a cry.
I was now in my fteenth year; but the deed was mar el-
lous. None suspected me; it was thought a miracle.
The old eunuch, distressed, went to consult the magus of
the well; whose answer was; “ Let the ows of the priestess
be ta en! ”

Now I thought this old man most foolish—obstinate; for I

myself was obstinate and foolish. Not yet did I at all under—
stand his wisdom or his purpose.
It often happens thus. Of old, men sent their priests to
rebu e Nile for rising—until it was nown that his rising was
the cause of the fertility of their elds.
Now of the ows which I too upon me and of my ser ice
as priestess of the Veiled One it shall ne t be related.

305
 CHAPTER III
was the E uino of Spring, and all my life stirred in me.
They led me down cool colonnades of mighty stone clad in
robes of white broidered with sil er, and eiled with a eil of
ne gold web fastened with rubies. They ga e me not the
Uraeus crown, nor any nemyss, nor the Ateph crown, but
bound my forehead with a simple llet of green lea es- er—
ain and mandra e and certain deadly herbs of which it is not
tting to spea .
Now the priests of the Veiled One were sore perple ed, for
that ne er before had any boy been chosen priestess. For be—
fore the ows may be administered, the proofs of irginity are
sought; and, as it seemed, this part of the ritual must be sup-
pressed or glossed o er. Then said the High Priest: “ Let it
be that we e amine the rst woman that he shall touch with
his hand, and she shall suf ce.” Now when I heard this, I
thought to test the God; and, spying in the crowd, I beheld
in loose robes with ushed face and wanton eyes, a certain
courtesan well— nown in the city, and I touched her. Then
those of the priests that hated me were glad, for they wished
to re ect me; and ta ing aside into the hall of trial that woman,
made the en uiry.
Then with robes rent they came running forth, crying out
against the Veiled One; for they found her perfect in irginity,
and so was she e en unto her death, as later appeared
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 ACROSS THE GULF
But the Veiled One was wroth with them because of this,
and appeared in her glittering eil upon the steps of her
temple. There she stood, and called them one by one; and
she lifted but the eye—piece of her eil and loo ed into their
eyes; and dead they fell before her as if smitten of the light-
ning.
But those priests who were friendly to me and loyal to the
goddess too that irgin courtesan, and led her in triumph
through the city, eiled and crowned as is be tting. Now after
some days he that guarded the sacred goat of Khem died, and
they appointed her in his place. And she was the rst woman
that was thus honoured since the days of the E il Queen in
the Eighteenth Dynasty, of her that wearied of men at an age
when other women ha e not nown them, that ga e herself to
gods and beasts.
But now they too me to the pool of li uid sil er—or so
they called it; I suppose it was uic sil er; for I remember
that it was ery dif cult to immerse me—which is beneath
the feet of the Veiled One. For this is the secret of the Oracle.
Standing far off the priest beholds the re ection of her in the
mirror, seeing her lips that mo e under the eil; and this he
interprets to the see er after truth.
Thus the priest reads wrongly the silence of the Goddess,
and the see er understands ill the speech of the priest. Then
come forth fools, saying “The Goddess hath lied”—and in
their folly they die.
While, therefore, they held me beneath the surface of the
pool, the High Priestess too the ows on my behalf saying:
I swear by the orb of the Moon;
I swear by the circuit of the Stars;
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 THE EQUINOX
I swear by the Veil, and by the Face behind the Veil;
I swear by the Light In isible, and by the Visible Dar —
ness; On behalf of this Virgin that is buried in thy water;
To li e in purity and ser ice;
Το lo e in beauty and truth;
Το guard the Veil from the profane;
To die before the Veil; . . .
——and then came the awful penalty of failure.
I dare not recall half of it; yet in it were these words: Let
her be torn by the Phallus of Set, and let her bowels be
de oured by Apep; let her be prostituted to the lust of Besz,
and let her face be eaten by the god .

It is not good to write His name.

Then they loosed me, and I lay smiling in the pool. They
lifted me up and brought me to the feet of the goddess, so
that I might iss them. And as I issed them such a thrill
ran through me that I thought myself rapt away into the
hea en of Amoun, or e en as Asi when Hoor and Hoor—pa-
raat, clea ing her womb, sprang armed to life. Then they
stripped me of my robes, and lashed me with ne twigs of
irgin hazel, until my blood ran from me into the pool. But
the surface of the sil er swallowed up the blood by some
mysterious energy; and they too this to be a sign of accept-
ance. So then they clothed me in the right robes of a priestess
of the Veiled One; and they put a sil er sistron in my hand,
and bade me perform the ceremony of adoration. This I did,
and the eil of the goddess glittered in the dar ness—for night
had fallen by this—with a strange starry light.
Thereby it was nown that I was indeed chosen aright.
So last of all they too me to the ban ueting—house and
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 ACROSS THE GULF
set me 011 the high throne. One by one the priests came by
and issed my lips: one by one the priestesses came by, and
ga e me the secret clasp of hands that hath hidden irtue.
And the ban uet wa ed merry; for all the food was magically
prepared. E ery beast that they slew was irgin; e ery plant
that they pluc ed had been grown and tended by irgins in
the gardens of the temple. Also the wine was spring water
only, but so consecrated by the holy priestesses that one glass
was more into icating than a whole s in of common wine.
Yet this into ication was a pure delight, an enthusiasm wholly
di ine; and it ga e strength, and did away with sleep, and
left no sorrow.
Last, as the rst gray glow of Horma hu paled the deep
indigo of the night, they crowned and clothed me with white
lotus owers, and too me oyously bac into the temple, there
to celebrate the matin ritual of awa ening the Veiled One.
Thus, and not otherwise, I became priestess of that holy
goddess, and for a little while my life passed calm as the
unruf ed mirror itself.
It was from the Veiled One herself that came the Breath
of Change.
On this wise.
In the Se enth E uino after my initiation into her mystery
the High Priestess was found to fail; at her in ocation the
Veil no longer glittered as was its wont. For this they deemed
her impure, and resorted to many ceremonies, but without
a ail. At last in despair she went to the temple of Set, and
ga e herself as a ictim to that dreadful god. Now all men
were much disturbed at this, and it was not nown at all of
them what they should do.
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 THE EQUINOX
Now it must be remembered that the ceremonies are always
performed by a single priestess alone before the goddess, sa e
only at the Initiations,
The others also had found themsel es re ected of her; and
when they learnt of the terrible end of the High Priestess,
they became fearful. Some few, indeed, concealed their failure
from the priests; but always within a day and a night they
were found torn asunder in the outer courts; so that it seemed
the lesser e il to spea truth.
Moreo er, the affair had become a public scandal; for the
goddess plagued the people with famine and with a terrible
and foul disease.
But as for me, I wot not what to do; for to me always the
Veil glittered, and that brighter than the ordinary, Yet I
said nothing, but went about drooping and sorrowful, as if I
were as unfortunate as they. For I would not seem to boast
of the fa our of the goddess.
Then they sent to the old Magus in the well; and he
laughed outright at their beards, and would say no word.
Also they sent to the sacred goat of Khem, and his priestess
would but answer, “ I, and such as I, may be fa oured of
Her," which they too for ribaldry and moc ing. A third
time they sent to the temple of Thoth the Ibis god of wisdom.
And Thoth answered them by this riddle: “On how many
legs doth mine Ibis stand?”
And they understood him not.
But the old High Priest determined to sol e the mystery,
though he paid forfeit with his life. So concealing himself in
the temple, he watched in the pool for the re ection of the
glittering of the Veil, while one by one we performed the
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 ACROSS THE GULF
adorations. And behind him and without stood the priests,
watching for him to ma e a sign. This we new not; but
when it fell to me (the last) to adore that Veiled One, behold!
the Veil glittered, and the old Priest threw up his arms to signal
that which had occurred. And the ash of the Eye pierced the
Veil, and he fell from his place dead upon the priests without.
They buried him with much honour, for that he had gi en
his life for the people and for the temple, to bring bac the
fa our of the Veiled One.
Then came they all ery humbly unto me the child, and
besought me to interpret the will of the Goddess. And her
will was that I alone should ser e her day and night.
Then they ga e me to drin of the Cup of the Torment;
and this is its Virtue, that if one should spea falsely, in o ing
the name of the Goddess, he shall burn in hell isibly before
all men for a thousand years; and that ame shall ne er be
put out. There is such an one in her temple in Memphis, for
I saw it with these eyes. There he burns and writhes and
Shrie s on the cold marble oor; and there he shall burn till
his time e pire, and he sin to that more dreadful hell below
the West. But I dran thereof, and the celestial dew stood
shining on my s in, and a coolness ineffable thrilled through
me; whereat they all re oiced, and obeyed the oice of the
Goddess that I had declared unto them.
Now then was I alway alone with that Veiled One, and I
must enter most fully into that secret period of my life. For,
despite its ending, which hath put many wise men to shame,
it was to me e en as an eternity of rapture, of stri ing and of
attainment beyond that which most mortals—and they initiates
e enI—call di ine.
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 THE EQUINOX
Now rst let it be understood what is the ritual of adora—
tion of our Lady the Veiled One.
First, the priestess performs a mystical dance, by which
all beings whatsoe er, be they gods or demons, are banished,
so that the place may be pure. Ne t, in another dance, e en
more secret and sublime, the presence of the Goddess is
in o ed into her Image. Ne t, the priestess goes a certain
ourney, passing the shrines of many great and terrible of the
Lords of Khem, and saluting them. Last, she assumes the
ery self of the Goddess; and if this be duly done, the Veil
glittereth responsi e.
Therefore, if the Veil glittereth not, one may now that in
some way the priestess hath failed to identify herself with
Her, Thus an impurity in the thought of the priestess must
cause her to fail; for the goddess is utterly pure.
Yet the tas is alway dif cult; for with the other gods one
noweth the appearance of their images; and steadily con-
templating these one can easily attain to their imitation, and
so to their comprehension, and to unity of consciousness
with them. But with Our Veiled One, none who hath seen
her face hath li ed long enough to say one word, or call one
cry.
So then it was of ital urgency to me to eep in perfect
sympathy with that pure soul, so calm, so strong. With what
terror then did I regard myself when, loo ing into my own
soul, I saw no longer that perfect stillness. Strange was it,
e en as if one should see a la e stirred by a wind that one did
not feel upon the chee s and brow!
Trembling and ashamed, I went to the esper adoration.
I new myself troubled, irritated, by I new not what. And
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 ACROSS THE GULF
in spite of all my efforts, this persisted e en to the supreme
moment of my assumption of her godhead.
And then? Oh but the Veil glittered as ne er yet; yea
more! it shot out spar s of scintillant re, sil ery rose, a
shower of ame and of perfume.
Then was I e ceedingly amazed because of this, and made
a Vigil before her all the night, see ing a Word. And that
word came not.
Now of what further befell I will write anon.

3 3
 CHAPTER IV
So it came to pass that I no longer went out at all from the
presence of the goddess, sa e only to eat and to sleep. And
the fa our of her was restored to the people, so that all men
were glad thereof.
For if any man murmured, he was slain incontinent, the
people being mindful of the famine and the disease, and being
minded to ha e no more of such, if it could by any means
be a oided. They were therefore e ceeding punctual with their
gifts.
But I was daily more afraid, being in a great sweat of
passion, of whiCh I dared to spea to no man. Nor did I dare
to spea e en pri ily in mine own heart thereof, lest I should
disco er its nature. But I sent my fa ourite, the irgin Istarah
(slim, pallid, and trembling as a young lotus in the West
Wind), with my ring of of ce, to en uire of the old Magus
of the well.
And he answered her by pointing upward to the s y and
then downward to the earth. And I read this Oracle as if it
were spo en “As abo e, so beneath.” This came to me as I
had ung myself in despair at the feet of my Lady, co ering
them with my tears; for by a certain manifest to en I now
new that I had done a thing that was so dreadful that e en
now—these many thousand years hence—I dare hardly write it.
I lo ed the Veiled One.
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 ACROSS THE GULF
Yea, with the erce passion of a beast, of a man, of a god,
with my whole soul I lo ed her.
E en as I new this by the manifest to en the Veil burst
into a de ouring ame; it ate up the robes of my of ce, lapping
them with its tongues of re li e a tigress lapping blood; yet
withal it burnt me not, nor singed one hair.
Thus na ed I ed away in fear, and in my madness slipped
and fell into the pool of li uid sil er, splashing it all o er the
hall; and e en as I ed that rosy cataract of ame that wrapt
me (from the Veil as it etted) went out—went out—
The Veil was a dull web of gold, no more
Then I crept fearfully to the feet of the goddess, and with
my tears and isses sought to wa e her into life once more.
But the Veil flamed not again; only a mist gathered about it
and lled the temple, and hid all things from my eyes.
Now then came Istarah my fa ourite bac with the ring
and the message; and thin ing that she brought bad news,
Islit her lamb’s-throat with the magic sic le, and her asp’s-
tongue I tore out with my hands, and threw it to the dogs
and ac als.
Herein I erred sorely, or her news was good. Ha ing
re ected thereon, I percei ed its import.
For since the Veil amed always at my assumption, it was
sure that I was in sympathy with that holy Veiled One.
If I were troubled, and new not why; if my long peace
were stirred—why then, so She!
" As abo e, so beneath! ” For e en as I, being man, sought
to grasp godhead and crush it in my arms, so She, the pure
essence, sought to manifest in form by lo e.
Yet I dared not repeat the ceremony at midnight.
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 THE EQUINOX
Instead I lay prone, my arms outstretched in shame and
pain, on the steps at her feet.
And lo! the Veil amed. Then I new that She too blamed
Herself ali e for her ardour and for her abstinence. Thus
se en days I lay, ne er stirring; and all that time the Veil
amed subtly and softly, a steady bluish glow changing to
green as my thought changed from melancholy to desire.
Then on the eighth day I rose and left the shrine and clad
myself in new robes, in robes of scarlet and gold, with acrown
of ine and bay and laurel and cypress. AlsoI puri ed myself
and proclaimed a ban uet. And I made the priests and the
citizens, e ceeding drun en. Then I called the guard, 3116
purged thoroughly the whole temple of all of them, charging
the captain on his life to let no man pass within. So that I
should be absolutely alone in the whole precincts of the
temple.
Then li e an old gray wolf I wandered round the outer
court, lifting up my oice in 3 mournful howl. And an ululation
as of one hundred thousand wol es answered me, yet deep
and muf ed, as though it came from the ery bowels of the
earth,
Then at the hour of midnight I entered again the shrine
and performed the ritual.
As I went on I became in amed with an in nite lust for
the In nite; and now I let it leap unchec ed, a ery lion.
E en so the Veil glowed red as with some infernal re Now
then I am come to the momentof the Assumption; but instead
of sitting calm and cold, remote, aloof, I gather myself to-
gether, and spring madly at the Veil, catching it in my two
hands. Now the Veil was of wo en gold, three thousand
316
 AC ROSS THE GULF
twisted wires; a span thic ! Yet I put out my whole force to
tear it across; and (for she also put out her force) it rent with
a roar as of earth ua e. Blinded I was with the glory of her
face; I should ha e fallen; but she caught me to her, and
ed her di ine mouth on mine, eating me up with the light
of her eyes Her mouth moaned, her throat sobbed with lo e;
her tongue thrust itself into me as a shaft ο sunlight smites
into the palm-gro es; my robes fell shri elled, and esh to
esh we clung. Then in some strange way she gripped me
body and soul, twining herself about me and within me e en
as Death that de oureth mortal man.
Still, still my being increased; my consciousness e panded
until I was all Nature seen as one, felt as one, apprehended as
one, formed by me, part of me, apart from me—all these things
at one moment—and at the same time the ecstasy of lo e
grew colossal, a tower to scale the stars, a sea to drown the
sun . . .
I cannot write of this . . . but in the streets people gathered
apples of gold that dropped from in isible boughs, and
in isible porters poured out wine for all, strange wine that
healed disease and old age, wine that, poured between the
teeth of the dead (so long as the embalrner had not begun
his wor ), brought them bac from the dar ingdom to
perfect health and youth.

As for me, I lay as one dead in the arms of the holy Veiled
One—Veiled no morel—while she too her pleasure of me ten
times, a thousand times. In that whirlwind of passion all my
strength was as a straw in the simoom.
Yet I grew not wea er but strongeri Though my ribs
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 THE EQUINOX
crac ed, I held rm. Presently indeed I stirred; it seemed as
if her strength had come to me. Thus I forced bac her head
and thrust myself upon and into her e en as a comet that
impales the sun upon its horn! And my breath came fast
between my lips and hers; her moan now faint, li e a dying
child, no more li e a Wild beast in torment.
E en so, wild with the lust of con uest, I urged myself
upon her and fought against her. I stretched out her arms
and forced them to the ground; then I crossed them on her
breast, so that she was powerless. And I became li e a mighty
serpent of ame, and wrapt her, crushed her in my coils.
I was the master! . . .
Then grew a ast sound about me as of shouting: I grew
conscious of the petty uni erse, the thing that seems apart
from oneself, so long as one is oneself apart from it.
Men cried " The temple is on re! The temple of Asi the
Veiled One is burning! The mighty temple that ga e its
glory to Thebai is a ame! "
Then I loosed my coils and gathered myself together into
the form of a mighty haw of gold and spa e one last word to
her, a word to raise her from the dead!
But 10! not Asi, but Asarl
White was his garment, starred with red and blue and
yellow. Green was his Countenance, and in his hands he bore
the croo and scourge. Thus he rose, e en as the temple fell
about us in ruins, and we were left standing there.
And I wist not what to say.
Now then the people of the city crowded in upon us, and
for the most part would ha e slain me.
But Thoth the mighty God, the wise one, with his Ibis-
3i8
 ACROSS THE GULF
head, and his nemyss of indigo, with his Ateph crown and his
Phoeni wand and with his An h of emerald, with his magic
apron in the Three colours; yea, Thoth, the God of Wisdom,
whose s in is of tawny orange as though it burned in a furnace,
appeared isibly to all of us. And the 016 Magus of the
Well, whom no man had seen outside his well for nigh
threescore years, was found in the midst: and he cried with
a loud oice, saying:
“ The E uino of the Gods! "
And he went on to e plain how it was that Nature should
no longer be the centre of man’s worship, but Man himself,
man in his suffering and death, man in his puri cation and
perfection. And he recited the Formula of the Osiris as
follows, e en as it hath been transmitted unto us by the
Brethren of the Cross and Rose unto this day:
“For Asar Un-nefer hath said:
He that is found perfect before the Gods hath said:
These are the elements of my body, perfected through suffering, glori ed
through trial.
For the Scent of the dying Rose is the repressed sigh of my suffering;
The Flame-Red re is the energy of my undaunted Will;
The Cup of Wine is the outpouring of the blood of my heart, sacri ced to
regeneration ;
And the Bread and Salt are the Foundations of my Body
Which I destroy in order that they may be renewed.
For I am Asar triumphant, e en Asar Un-nefer the Justi ed One!
I am He who is clothed with the body of esh,
Yet in Whom is the Spirit of the mighty Gods.
I am the Lord of Life, triumphant o er death; he who parta eth with me
shall arise with me.
I am the manifestor in Matter of those whose abode is in the In isible.
I am puri ed: I stand upon the Uni erse: I am its Reconciler with the
eternal Gods: I am the Perfector of Matter; and without me the
Uni erse is not! "
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 THE EQUINOX
All this he said, and displayed the sacraments of Osiris
before them all; and in a certain mystical manner did we all
symbolically parta e of them. But for me! in the Scent of the
dying Rose I beheld rather the perfection of the lo e of my
lady the Veiled One, whom I had won, and slain in the
Winning

Now, howe er, the 016 Magus clad me (for I was yet na ed)
in the dress of a Priest of Osiris. He ga e me the robes of
white linen, and the leopard’s s in, and the wand and an h.
Also he ga e me the croo and scourge, and gift me with
the royal girdle On my head he set the holy Uraeus serpent
for a crown; and then, turning to the people, cried aloud:
" Behold the Priest of Asar in Thebai!
" He shall proclaim unto ye the worship of Asar; see
that ye follow him! "
Then, ere one could cry “ Hold " he had anished from
l

our sight.
I dismissed the people; I was alone with the dead God;
with Osiris, the Lord of Amennti, the slain of Typhon, the
de oured of Apophis . . .
Yea, erily, I was alone!

320
 CHAPTER V
Now then the great e haustion too hold upon me, and I fell
at the feet of the Osiris as one dead. All nowledge of terres-
trial things was gone from me; I entered the ingdom of the
dead by the gate of the West. For the worship of Osiris is to
oin the earth to the West; it is the cultus of the Setting Sun.
Through Isis man obtains strength of nature; through Osiris
he obtains the strength of suffering and ordeal, and as the
trained athlete is superior to the sa age, so is the magic of
Osiris stronger than the magic of Isis. So by my secret
practices at night, while my guardians stro e to smooth my
spirit to a girl’s, had I found the power to bring about that
tremendous e ent, an E uino of the Gods,
Just as thousands of years later was my secret re olt
against Osiris— or the world had suffered long enough!—
destined to bring about another E uino in which Horus
was to replace the Slain One with his youth and igour and
ictory.
I passed therefore into these glowing abodes of Amennti,
clad in thic dar ness, while my body lay entranced at the
feet of the Osiris in the ruined temple.
Now the god Osiris sent forth his strange gloom to co er
us, lest the people should percei e or disturb; Therefore I lay
peacefully entranced, and abode in Amennti. There I con—
fronted the de ouring god, and there was my heart weighed
321
 THE EQUINOX
and found perfect; there the two-and—forty Judges bade me
pass through the pylons they guarded; there I spo e with the
Se en, and with the Nine, and with the Thirty-Three; and at
the end I came out into the abode of the Holy Hathor, into
her mystical mountain, and being there crowned and garlanded
I re oiced e ceedingly, coming out through the gate of the
East, the Beautiful gate, unto the Land of Khemi, and the city
of Thebai, and the temple that had been the temple of the
Veiled One. There I re oined my body, ma ing the magical
lin s in the prescribed manner, and rose up and did adoration
to the Osiris by the fourfold sign. Therefore the Light of
Osiris began to dawn; it went about the city whirling forth,
abounding, crying aloud; whereat the people worshipped,
being abased with e ceeding fear. Moreo er, they hear ened
unto their wise men and brought gifts of gold, so that the
temple oor was heaped high; and gifts of o en, so that the
courts of the temple could not contain them: and gifts of
sla es, as it were a mighty army.
Then I withdrew myself; and ta ing counsel with the
wisest of the priests and of the architects and of the sculptors,
I ga e out my orders so that the temple might duly be
builded. By the fa our of the god all things went smoothly
enough; yet was I conscious of some error in the wor ing;
or if you will, some wea ness in myself and my desire. Loo
you, I could not forget the Veiled One, my days of silence and
solitude with Her, the slow dawn of our splendid passion, the
clima of all that wonder in her ruin!
So as the day approached for the consecration of the
temple I began to dread some great catastrophe, Yet all
went well—perhaps too well.
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 ACROSS THE GULF
The priests and the people new nothing of this, how-
e er. For the god manifested e ceptional fa our; as a new
god must do, or how shall he establish his position? The
har ests were fourfold, the cattle eightfold; the women were
all fertile—yea! barren women of si ty years bore twins!—
there was no disease or sorrow in the city.
Mighty was the concourse ο the citizens on the great day
of the consecration.
Splendid rose the temple, a fortress of blac granite. The
columns were car ed with wonderful images of all the gods
adoring Osiris; mar els of painting glittered on the walls;
they told the story of Osiris, of his birth, his life, his death at
the hands of Typhon, the search after his scattered members,
the birth of Horus and Harpocrates, the engeance upon
Typhon Seth, the resurrection of Osiris,
The god himself was seated in a throne set bac into the
wall, It was of lapis-lazuli and amber, it was inlaid with
emerald and ruby. Mirrors of polished gold, of gold burnished
with dried poison of asps, so that the sla es who wor ed upon
it might die. For, it being unlawful for those mirrors to
ha e e er re ected any mortal countenance, the sla es were
both blinded and eiled; yet e en so, it were best that they
should die‘
At last the ceremony began. With splendid words, with
words that shone li e ames, did Iconsecrate all that were
there present, e en the whole city of Thebai.
And made the salutation unto the attendant gods, ery
forcibly, so that they responded with echoes of my adoration.
And Osiris accepted mine adoration with gladness as I our-
neyed about at the four uarters of the temple.
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 THE EQUINOX
Now cometh the mysterious ceremony of Assumption I
too upon myself the form of the god: Istro e to put my
heart in harmony with his.
Alas! alas! I was in tune with the dead soul of Isis; my
heart was as a ame of elemental lust and beauty; I could
not—I could not. Then the hea ens lowered and blac clouds
gathered upon the Firmament of Nu. Dar ames of lightning
rent the clouds, gi ing no light. The thunder roared; the
people were afraid. In his dar shrine the Osiris gloomed, dis—
pleasure on his forehead, insulted ma esty in his eyes. Then a
pillar of dust whirled down from the ault of hea en, e en unto
me as I stood alone, half—de ant, in the midst of the temple
while the priests and the people cowered and wailed afar off.
It rent the massy roof as it had been a thatch of straw, whirl—
ing the bloc s of granite far away into the Nile. It descended,
roaring and twisting, li e a wounded serpent demon- ing in his
death-agony; it struc me and lifted me from the temple; it
bore me through leagues of air into the desert; then it dissol ed
and ung me contemptuously on a hill of sand. Breathless and
dazed I lay, anger and anguish tearing at my heart
I rose to swear a mighty curse; e haustion too me, and
I fell in a swoon to the earth.
When I came to myself it was nigh dawn. I went to the
top of the hilloc and loo ed about me. Nothing but sand,
sand all ways. Just so was it within my heart!
The only guide for my steps (as the sun rose) was a greener
glimpse in the East, which I thought might be the alley of
the Nile re ected. ThitherI bent my steps: all day I struggled
with the scorching heat, the shifting sand. At night I tried
to sleep, for sheer fatigue impelled me. But as often as I lay
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 ACROSS THE GULF
down, so often restlessness impelled me forward. I would
stagger on awhile, then stumble and fall. Only at dawn I
slept perhaps for an hour, and wo e chilled to death by my
own sweat. I was so wea that I could hardly raise a hand;
my tongue was swollen, so that I could not greet the sun-dis
with the accustomed adoration. My brain had slipped con—
trol; I could no longer e en thin of the proper spells that
might ha e brought me aid. Instead, dreadful shapes drew
near; one, a hideous camel-demon, an obscene brute of lth;
another, a blac ape with a blue muzzle and crimson buttoc s,
all his s in hairless and scabby, with his mass of mane oiled
and trimmed li e a beautiful courtesan’s. This fellow moc ed
me with the alluring gestures of such an one, and anon oided
his e crement upon me. Moreo er there were others, menacing
and terrible, ast cloudy demon-shapes. . . .
I could not thin of the words of power that control them.
Now the sun that warmed my chill bones yet scorched me
further. My tongue so swelled that I could hardly breathe;
my face blac ened; my eyes bulged out. The ends came
closer; drew strength from my wea ness, made themsel es
material bodies, twitched me and spi ed me and bit me. I
turned on them and struc feebly again and again; but they
e aded me easily and their yelling laughter rang li e hell’s in
my ears. Howbeit I saw that they attac ed me only on one
side, as if to force me to one path. But I was wise enough to
eep my shadow steadily behind me: and they, seeing this,
were all the more enraged; I therefore the more obstinate in
my course. Then they changed their tactics; and made as if
to eep me in the course I had chosen; and seeing this, I was
con rmed therein.
325
 THE EQUINOX
Truly with the gods I went! for in a little while I came to
a pool of water and a tall palm standing by.
I plunged in that cool wa e; my strength came bac , albeit
slowly; yet with one wa e of my hand in the due gesture the
ends all anished; and in an hour I was suf ciently restored
to call forth my friends from the pool—the little shes my
playmates—and the nymph of the pool came forth and bowed
herself before me and coo ed me the shes with that re that
renders water luminous and spar ling. Also she pluc ed me
dates from the tree, and I ate thereof. Thus was I much com—
forted; and when I had eaten, she too my head upon her lap,
and sang me to sleep; for her oice was li e the ripple of the
la es under the wind of spring and li e the bubbling of a
well and li e the tin ling of a fountain through a bed of moss.
Also she had deep notes li e the sea that booms upon a roc y
shore.
So long, long, long I slept.
Now when I awo e the nymph had gone; but I too from
my bosom a little cas et of certain sacred herbs; and casting
a few grains into the pool, repaid her for her courtesy. And
I blessed her in the name of our dead lady Isis’ and went on
in the strength of that delicious meal for a great way. Yet I
wist not what to do; for I was as it were a dead man, although
my age was barely two and twenty years.
What indeed should befall me?
Yet I went on; and, climbing a ridge, beheld at last the
broad Nile, and a shining city that I new not.
There on the ridge I stood and ga e than s to the great gods
of Hea en, the Aeons of in nite years, that I had come thus
far. For at the sight of Nilus new life began to dawn in me.
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 CHAPTER VI
1001-‫ ש ח‬any long delay I descended the slopes and
entered?
the city. Not nowing what might ha e ta en place in Thebai?
and what news might ha e come hither, I did not dare declare?
myself; but see ing out the High Priest of Horus I showed?
him a certain sign, telling him that I was come from Memphis?
on a ourney, and intended to isit Thebai to pay homage at?
the shrine of Isis. But he, full of the news, told me that the?
ancient priestess of Isis, who had become priest of Osiris, had?
been ta en up to hea en as a sign of the signal fa our of the?
God. VVhereat I could hardly hold myself from laughter; yet?
I controlled myself and answered that I was now prepared to?
return to Memphis, for that I was owed to Isis, and Osiris?
could not ser e my turn.?
At this he begged me to stay as his guest, and to go wor-
ship at the temple of Isis in this city. I agreed thereto, and
the good man ga e me new robes and ewels from the treasury
of his own temple. There too I rested sweetly on soft cushions
fanned by young boys with broad lea es of palm. Also he
sent me the dancing girl of Sleep. It was the art of this girl
to wea e such subtle mo ements that the sense, watching her,
swooned; and as she swayed she sang, e er lower and lower
as she mo ed slower and slower, until the loo er-listener was
dissol ed in bliss of sleep and delicate dream.
327
 THE EQUINOX
Then as he slept she would bend o er him e en as Nuit
the Lady of the Stars that bendeth o er the blac earth, and
in his ears she would whisper strange rhythms, secret utter—
ances, whereby his spirit would be rapt into the realms of
Hathor or some other golden goddess, there in one night to
reap an har est of refreshment such as the elds of mortal
sleep yield ne er.
So then I wo e at dawn, to nd her still watching, still
loo ing into my eyes with a tender smile on her mouth that
cooed whispers in nitely soothing. Indeed with a soft iss
she wa ed me, for in this Art there is a right moment to
sleep, and another to wa en: which she was well s illed to
di ine.
I rose then—she itted away li e a bird—and robed my-
self; and, see ing my host, went forth with him to the Temple
of Isis.
Now their ritual (it appeared) differed in one point from
that to which I was accustomed. Thus, it was not death to
intrude upon the ceremony sa e only for the profane. Priests
of a certain ran of initiation might if they pleased behold it.
I, therefore, wishing to see again that mar ellous glowing of
the Veil, disclosed a suf cient sign to the High Priest. Thereat
was he mightily amazed; and, from the foot udging Hercules,
began to thin that I might be some sacred en oy or
inspector from the Gods themsel es. This I allowed him to
thin ; meanwhile we went forward into the shrines and stood
behind the pillars, unseen, in the prescribed position.
Now it chanced that the High Priestess herself had this
day chosen to perform the rite.
This was a woman tall and blac , most ma estic, with
328
 ACROSS THE GULF
limbs strong as a man’s. Her gaze was haw — een, and her
brow commanding. But at the Assumption of the God-form
she went close and whispered into the Veil, so low that we
could not hear it; but as it seemed with erce intensity, with
some passion that notted up her muscles, so that her arms
writhed li e wounded sna es. Also the eins of her forehead
swelled, and foam came to her lips. We thought that she had
died; her body swelled and shuddered; last of all a terrible
cry burst from her throat, inarticulate, awful.
Yet all this while the Veil glittered, though something
sombrely. Also the air was lled with a wild sweeping music,
which rent our ery ears with its uncouth magic. For it was
li e no music that I had e er heard before At last the
Priestess tore herself away from the Veil and reeled—as one
drun en—down the temple. Sighs and sobs tore her breast;
and her nails made bloody groo es in her wet an s.
On a sudden she espied me and my companion; with one
buffet she smote him to earth—it is unlawful to resist the
Priestess when she is in the Ecstasy of Union—and falling
upon me, li e a wild beast she buried her teeth in my nec ,
bearing me to the ground. Then, loosing me, while the blood
streamed from me, she ed her glittering eyes upon it with
strange oy, and with her hands she shoo me as a lion sha es
a buc . Sinewy were her hands, with big nuc les, and the
strength of her was as cords of iron. Yet her might was but a
mortal’s; in a little she ga e one gasp li e a drowning man’s;
her body slac ened, and fell with its dead weight on mine,
her mouth glued to mine in one dreadful iss. Dreadful; for
as my mouth returned it, almost mechanically, the blood
gushed from her nostrils and blinded me. I too, then, more
f 329
 THE EQUINOX
dead than ali e, swooned into bliss, into trancei I was
awa ened by the High Priest of Horus. “ Come,” he said;
”she is dead." I disengaged myself from all that weight of
madness—and the body writhed con ulsi ely as I turned it
o er—I issed those frothy lips, for in death she was beauti—
ful beyond belief, oyous beyond description—thence Istag-
gered to the Veil, and saluted with all my strength, so that it
glittered under the force of my sheer will. Then I turned me
again, and with the High Priest sought his house.
Strange indeed was I as I went through the city, my new
robes dar with blood of that most holy sorceress.
But no one of the people dared so much as lift his eyes;
nor spo e we together at all But when we were come into
the house of the High Priest, sternly did he confront me.
" What is this, my son?”
And I weary of the folly of the world and of the useless—
ness of things answered him:
" Father, I go bac to Memphis. I am the Magus of the
Well.”
Now he new the Magus, and answered me:
" Why liest thou ? "
And I said “I am come into the world where all speech is
false, and all speech is true.”
Then he did me re erence, abasing himself unto the ground
e en unto nine-and—ninety times.
And I spurned him and said, “Bring forth the dancing
girl of Sleep; for in the morning I will away to Memphis.”
And she came forth, and I cursed her and cried: “ Be thou
the dancing girl of Lo e! ”
And it was so. And I went in unto her, and new her;
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 ACROSS THE GULF
and in the morning I girded myself, and boarded the state
barge of the High Priest, and pillowed myself upon gold and
purple, and disported myself with lutes and with lyres and
with parrots, and with blac sla es, and with wine and with
delicious fruits, until I came e en unto the holy city of
Memphis.
And there I called soldiers of Pharaoh, and put cruelly to
death all them that had accompanied me; and I burnt the
barge, adrift upon the Nile at sunset, so that the ames
alarmed the foolish citizens. All this I did, and danced na ed
in my madness through the city, until I came to the Old
Magus of the Well.
And laughing, I threw a stone upon him, crying: “Ree
me the riddle of my life! "
And he answered naught.
Then I threw a great roc upon him, and I heard his
bones crunch, and I cried in moc ery: “ Ree me the riddle of
My life! "
But he answered naught.
Then I threw down the wall of the well; and I burned the
house with re that stood thereby, with the men-ser ants and
the maid—ser ants.
And none dared stay me; for I laughed and e ulted in
my madness. Yea, erily, I laughed, and laughed—and
laughed—
 CHAPTER VII
THEN being healed of my madness I too all the treasure of
that old Magus which he had laid up for many years—and
none gainsaid me. Great and splendid was it, of gold more
than twel e bulloc s could draw, of balassius rubies, and sar-
dony , and beryl, and chrysoprase; of diamond and starry
sapphire, of emerald much, ery much, of topaz and of
amethyst great and wonderful gems. Also he had a gure of
Nuit greater than a woman, which was made of lapis lazuli
spec ed with gold, car ed with mar ellous e cellence. And
he had the secret gem of Hadit that is not found on earth, for
that it is in isible sa e when all else is no more seen.
Then went I into the mar et and bought sla es. I bought
me in particular a giant, a Nubian blac er than polished
granite seen by starlight, tall as a young palm and straight,
yet more hideous than the Ape of Thoth. Also Ibought a
young pale stripling from the North, a silly boy with idle
languishing ways. But his mouth burned li e sunset when
the dust-storms blow. So pale and wea was he that all
despised him and moc ed him for a girl. Then he too a
white-hot iron from the re and wrote with it my name in
hieroglyphics on his breast; nor did his smile once alter while
the esh hissed and smo ed.
Thus we went out a great cara an to a roc y islet in the
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 ACROSS TH Ε GULF
Nile, dif cult of access for that the waters foamed and swirled
dangerously about it. There we builded a little temple shaped
li e a beehi e; but there was no altar and no shrine therein;
for in that temple should the god be sacri ced unto himself.
Myself I made the god thereof; I powdered my hair with
gold, and inwound it with owers. I gilded my eyelids, and I
stained my lips with ermilion. I gilded my breasts and my
nails, and as God and Victim in one was I daily sacri ced
unto that strange thing that was none other than myself. I
made my giant Nubian high priest; and I endowed his wand
with magic power, so that he might properly perform my
rites. This he did to such purpose that many men from
Memphis and e en from more distant towns, lea ing their
gods, came hither, and did sacri ce. Then I appointed also
the pale boy warder of the Sanctuary: and he swore unto me
to be faithful unto death.
Now there arose a great strife in Memphis, and many
foolish and lewd women cried out against us. So erce was
the uproar that a great company of women issued forth from
the city and came into the island. They slew my pale boy at
the gate, though sword in hand he fought against them. Then
they frothed on, and I confronted them in my glory. They
hesitated, and in that moment I smote them with a deadly
itching, so that running forth they tore off their clothes and
set themsel es to scratching, while my people laughed until
they ached.
At the term, indeed, with e haustion and with loss of
blood they died all; four hundred and two women perished in
that great day's slaughter, So that the people of Memphis had
peace for awhile.
333
 THE EQUINOX
But as for me, I mourned the loss of that young sla e. I
had his body embalmed as is not tting for other than a ing.
And at the door of the temple I placed his sarcophagus
beneath a hedge of ni es and spears, so that there was no
other access to my glory.
Li e honour hath no sla e had e er.
Thus then I abode three cycles of the season; and at the
end of that time the High Priest died.
For mine was a strange and dreadful rite to do; none other,
and none unforti ed by magic power, could ha e done this
thing.
Yet I too sic ened of that e erlasting sacri ce. I was
become worn and wan; there was no blood but ice in my
eins. I had indeed become all but a god . . .
Therefore I too the body of my Nubian, and slew four
young girls, and lled all the hollow spaces of his body with
their blood. Then too I sealed up his body with eight seals;
and the ninth seal was mine own, the centre of my godhead,
Then he rose slowly and staggeringly as I uttered the
dreadful words:
A a dua
Tuf ur biu
Bi aa chefu
Dudu ner af an nuterul

Then I touched him with my wand and he rose into full

power of his being; and we entered in, and for the last time
did he perform (though silent) the ceremony. At whose end
he lay shri elled and collapsed, shrun en li e an 016 wine-
s in; yet his blood a ailed me nothing. I was icier than
before, Yet now indeed was I Osiris, for I sent out ames
334-
 ACROSS THE GULF
of cold gray glory from my s in, and mine eyes were rigid
with ecstasy.
Yea, by Osiris himself, I swear it! E en as the eyes of all
li ing men re ol e ceaselessly, so were mine ed!
Then I shoo myself and went forth into the city of
Memphis, my face being eiled and my steps led by sla es.
And there I went into the temples one by one; and I
twitched aside my eil, whereat all men fell dead on the
instant, and the gods tumbled from their places, and bro e in
pieces upon the oor.
And I eiled myself, and went into the mar et—place and
lifted up my oice in a chant and cried:
Death, and desolation, and despair!
I lift up my oice, and all the gods are dumb.
I un eil my face, and all that li eth is no more,
I sniff up life, and breathe forth destruction,
I hear the music of the world, and its echo is silence
Death, and desolation, and despair!
The parting of the ways is come: the E uino of the Gods is past.
Another day: another way.
Let them that hear me be abased before me!
Death, and desolation, and despair!

Then I pulled away my eil, and the cold lightnings of death

shot forth, and the people of the city fell dead where they
stood.
Sa e only one, a young boy, a ute—player, that was blind,
and, seeing not those eyes of mine, died not.
Then to him I spa e, saying:
"Arise, summon the priests and the people, all that remain.
And let them build a temple unto Osiris the God of the dead,
and let the dead be worshipped for e er and e er."
335
 THE EQUINOX
This I said, and went out from the city with the two sla es
that I had left in the gate, and we went unto Nile, unto a ca e
by the ban of the ri er; and there I abode for many months,
weeping for Isis my Lady. For though I had a enged her in
many dreadful deeds, yet I brought her not bac unto life.
Moreo er the lo e of her was as it were dead in me, so that
my heart stirred not at the thought of her. Say that my lo e
wandered li e a ghost unburied, frozen, adrift upon the
winds!
Now of my deeds at this period it is almost too horrible
to tell. For I performed great penance, in the hope of italizing
that dead principle in me which men call the soul.
I star ed myself shamefully, in this manner. First sur-
rounding myself with all possible lu uries of food, brought
in steaming and sa oury from hour to hour, I yet condemned
myself to subsist upon a little garlic and a little salt, with a
little water in which oats had been bruised.
Then if any wish arose in me to eat of the dainties around
me I gashed myself with a sharp stone.
Moreo er I indled a great fire in the ca e so that the
sla es stumbled and fainted as they approached. And the
smo e cho ed me so that I constantly omited a blac and
ill—smelling mucus from my lungs, stained here and there
with frothing blood.
Again, I suffered my hair to grow e ceeding long, and
therein I harboured ermin. Also, when I lay down to sleep,
though this I did not till with swollen tongue and blac ened
throat I could no longer howl the name of my dead Lady,
then (I say) did I smear my limbs with honey, that the rats
of the ca e might gnaw them as I slept. Moreo er, I pillowed
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 ACROSS THE GULF
mine head upon a corpse dead of leprosy, and whene er that
dead soul of mine stirred at all with lo e toward my Lady,
then I caressed and issed that corpse, and sang soft songs
to it, playing with gracious words and gestures. All this
spo e loudly to my soul, rebu ing it for its wea ness and
corruption. So too the bitterness and foulness of my life
would often o erleap the limit of sensibility; and then for
hours together would I be lost in a raging whirlwind of
laughter. At this time my sla es would be afraid to come
anigh me, and then darting out of the ca e I would catch one
by the hair and dragging him within put him to e uisite
torture. This indeed was of great use to me; for I would
de ise atrocious things, and if they ser ed to e cite his utmost
anguish I would then try them on myself, Thus I would run
needles steeped in Nile mud beneath my nger-nails, so that
the sores festering might produce a sic ening agony. Or
again I would cut strips of s in and tear them off; but this
failed, though it acted well enough upon the sla e, for my
own s in had become too brittle. Then I would ta e a piece
of hard wood, and hammer it with a stone against the bones,
hurting the membrane that co ers them, and causing it to
swell. This too I had to abandon, for the limb of the sla e
died, and he swelled up and rotted and turned green, and in
shoc ing agony he died.
So then I was compelled to cure myself magically, and
this was a great loss of force.
Yet was I “Far from the Happy Ones,” although my
lips hung on my eshless face li e bean—pods withered and
blac ened, and although there was not one inch of s in upon
all my body that was not scarred.
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 THE EQUINOX
Yet my trial was nigh its end. For the people of Memphis,
wondering at the fre uent purchases of dead lepers made
always by the same sla e, began, as is the wont of the ignorant,
to spread foolish rumours At last they said openly “There
is an holy hermit in the old ca e by Nile." Then the barren
women of the city came out stealthily to me in the hope that
by my sanctity their dry stic s might blossom
But I showed them my dead leper, and said “ Let me rst
beget children upon this, and after I will do your business."
This li ed them not; yet they left me not alone, for they went
home and cried out that I was an horror, at ghoul, a ampire,
. . . And at that all the young and beautiful women of the

city, lea ing their lo ers and their husbands, oc ed to me,

bringing gifts. But I too them to the dead leper and said,
“When you are beautiful as that is beautiful, and when I am
weary of its beauty and its delight, then will I do your
pleasure.”
Then they all raged ehemently against 'me, and stirred
up the men of the city to destroy me, And I, not being
minded to display my magic force, went by night (so soon
as I heard of this) and too sanctuary in the shrine of Osiris
that I had caused them to build. And there I attained felicity;
for uniting my consciousness with the god‘s, I obtained the
e pansion of that consciousness. Is not the ingdom of the
dead a mighty ingdom?
So I percei ed the uni erse as it were a single point of
in nite nothingness yet of in nite e tension; and becoming
this uni erse, I became dissol ed utterly thereini Moreo er,
my body lifted itself up and rose in the air to a great height
beyond the shadow of the earth, and the earth rolled beneath
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 ACROSS THE GULF
me; yet of all this I new nothing, for that I was all these
things and none of them. Moreo er I was united with Isis
the Mother of Osiris, being yet her brother and her lord.
Woe, woe to me! for all this was but partial and imperfect;
nor did I truly understand that which occurred.
Only this I new, that 1 should return to my city of
Thebai, and rule therein as High Priest of Osiris, no longer
stri ing to some end unheard-of or impossible, but uietly
and patiently li ing in the en oyment of my dignities and
wealth, e en as a man.
Yet one thing I saw also, that as Isis is the Lady of all
Nature, the li ing; and as Osiris is the Lord of the Dead, so
should Horus come, the Haw -headed Lord, as a young
child, the image of all Nature and all Man raised abo e Life
and Death, under the supreme rule of Hadit that is Force
and of Nuit that is Matter—though they are a Matter and
a Force that transcend all our human conceptions of these
things.
But of this more anon, in its due place.

339
 CHAPTER VIII
BEHOLD me then returned to Thebai! So scarred and altered
was I, though not yet thirty years of age, that they new me
not. So I offered myself as a ser ing—man in the temple of
Osiris, and I pleased the priests mightily, for by my magic
power—though they thought it to be natural—I sang songs
unto the god, and made hymns. Therefore in less than a year
they began to spea of initiating me into the priesthood. Now
the High Priest at this time was a young and igorous man,
blac —bearded in the fashion of Osiris, with a single s uare
tuft beneath the chin. Him had they chosen after my departure
in the whirlwind. And the High Priestess was a woman of
forty and two years old, both dar and beautiful, with ashing
eyes and stern lips. Yet her body was slim and lithe li e that
of a young girl. Now, as it chanced, it was my turn to ser e
her with the funeral offerings; esh of o en and of geese,
bread, and wine. And as she ate she spa e with me; for she
could see by her art that I was not a common ser ing-man.
Then I too out the consecrated Wand of Khem that I had
from my father; and I placed it in her hand. At that she
wondered, for that Wand is the sign of a great and holy
initiation: so rare that (as they say) no woman but one has
e er attained unto it. Then she blessed herself that she had
been permitted to loo upon it, and prayed me to eep silence
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 ACROSS THE GULF
for a little while, for she had somewhat in her mind to do.
And I lifted up the wand upon her in the nine-and-forty-fold
benediction, and she recei ed illumination thereof, and re oiced.
Then I fell at her (eet—for she was the High Priestess—and
issed them re erently, and withdrew.
Then three days afterwards, as I learnt, she sent for a
priestess who was s illed in certain deadly crafts and as ed
of her a poison. And she ga e it, saying: “Let the High
Priest of the God of the dead go down to the deadI” Then
that wic ed High Priestess con eyed unto him subtly the
poison in the sacraments themsel es, and he died thereof.
Then by her subtlety she caused a certain youth to be made
high priest who was slo enly and stupid, thin ing in herself
“ Surely the god will re ect him.” But at his word the Image
of the god glowed as was its wont. And at that she new—
and we all new—that the glory was departed; for that the
priests had supplanted the right ceremony by some tric of
deceit and craft.
Thereat was she mightily cast down, for though wic ed
and ambitious, she had yet much power and nowledge.
But instead of using that power and that nowledge she
sought to oppose craft with craft. And suspecting (aright)
whose cunning had done this thing she bribed him to re erse
the machinery, so that the High Priest might be shamed. But
shamed he was not; for he lied, saying that the God glowed
brighter than the Sun; and he lied securely, for Maat the
Lady of Truth had no place in that temple. To such foulness
was all fallen by my rst failure to assume the god-form, and
their priestly falsehood that my sanctity had rapt me into
hea en. Nor had the wealth they lied to obtain a ailed them
341
 THE EQUINOX
aught; for Pharaoh had descended upon Thebai, and laid
hea y hand upon the coffers of the temple, so that they were
poor. E en, they sold good auguries for gold; and these
were a ery destruction to them that bought. Then they sold
curses, and sowed discord in the city. Wherefore the people
grew poorer still, and their gifts to the temple wa ed e en
less.
For there is no foolishness li e the hunger after gain.
Of old the gods had gi en blessing, and the people offered
freely of their plenty.
NOW the priests sowed chaff, and reaped but barrenness.
So I waited patiently in silence to see what might befall.
And this foolish priestess could thin of no better e pedient
than formerly. But this young stupid man had guessed how
his predecessor was dead, and he touched not the sacraments;
but feigned.
Then she called for me—and I was now ordained priest—
to ta e counsel of me; for she was minded to put me in his
place.
Thus she made a great ban uet for me; and when we were
well drun en she laid her head upon my breast and said mar-
ellous things to me of lo e, to me, who had lo ed the Veiled
One! But I feigned all the madness of passion and made her
drun thereon, so that she tal ed great words, frothing forth
li e dead shes swollen in the sun, of how we should rule
Thebai and (it might be) displace Pharaoh and ta e his throne
and sceptre. Yet, foolish woman! she could not thin how
she might remo e this stupid high priest, her own nominee!
So I answered her “Assume the Form of Osiris, and all will
be well in the Temple of Osiris.” Moc ing her, for I new
342
 ACROSS THE GULF
that she could not. Yet so drun en was she upon lo e and
wine that there and then she performed the ritual of Adoration
and Assumption.
Then I in merry mood put out my power, and caused her
in truth to become Osiris, so that she went icy star , and her
eyes ed. . . .

Then she tried to shrie with fear, and could not; forI
had put upon her the silence of the tomb.
But all the while I feigned wonder and applause, so that
she was utterly decei ed. And being tired of moc ing her, i
bade her return. This she did, and new not what to say. At
rst she pretended to ha e recei ed a great secret; then,
nowing how much higher was my grade of initiation, dared
not. Then, at last, being frightened, she ung herself at my
feet and confessed all, pleading that at least her lo e for me
was true. This may well ha e been; in any case I would ha e
had compassion upon her, for in sooth her body was li e a
ower, white and pure, though her mouth was hea y and
strong, her eyes wrin led with lust, and her chee s accid
with deceit.
So I comforted her, pressing her soft body in mine arms,
drin ing the wine of her eyes, feeding upon the honey of her
mouth.
Then at last I counselled her that she should bid him to
a secret ban uet, and that I should ser e them, disguised in
my old dress as a ser ing—man.
On the ne t night after this he came, and I ser ed them,
and she made open lo e (though feigned) to him. Yet subtly,
so that he thought her the deer and himself the lion. Then at
last he went clean mad, and said: “ Iwill gi e thee what thou
343
 THE EQUINOX
wilt for one iss of that thy mar ellous mouth.” Then she
made him swear the oath by Pharaoh—the which if he bro e
Pharaoh would ha e his head—and she issed him once, as if
her passion were li e the passion of Nile in ood for the
sandy bars that it de oureth, and then leaping up, answered
him, " Gi e me thine of ce of High Priest for this my lo er! "
With that she too and fondled me. He gaped, aghast; then
he too off the ring of of ce and ung it at her feet; he spat
one word in her face; he slun away,
But I, pic ing up the ring of of ce, cried after him: “What
shall be done to who insulteth the High Priestess?”
And he turned and answered sullenly: “I was the High
Priest.” “Thou hadst no longer the ring! " she raged at him,
her face white with fury, her mouth dripping the foam of her
anger—for the word was a Vile word! . . .
Then she smote upon the bell, and the guard appeared. At
her order they brought the instruments of death, and sum-
moned the e ecutioner, and left us there. Then the e ecu—
tioner bound him to the wheel of iron by his an les and his
waist and his throat; and he cut off his eyelids, that he might
loo upon his death. Then with his shears he cut off the lips
from him, saying, “With these lips didst thou blaspheme the
Holy One, the Bride of Osiris." Then one by one he wrenched
out the teeth of him, saying e ery time: “With this tooth
didst thou frame 3 blasphemy against the Holy One, the Bride
of Osiris." Then he pulled out the tongue with his pincers,
saying: “With this tongue didst thou spea blasphemy
against the Holy One, the Bride of Osiris." Then too he a
strong corrosi e acid and blistered his throat therewith, say-
ing: "From this throat didst thou blaspheme the Holy One,
344
 ACROSS THE GULF
the Bride of Osiris.” Then he too a rod of steel, white-hot,
and burnt away his secret parts, saying: “ Be thou put to
shame, who hast blasphemed the Holy One, the Bride of
Osiris." After that, he too a young ac al and ga e it to eat
at his li er, saying: " Let the beasts that de our carrion
de our the li er that lifted itself up to blaspheme the Holy
One, the Bride of Osiris!“ With that the wretch died, and
they e posed his body in the ditch of the city, and the dogs
de oured it.
Now all this while had my lady dallied amorously with
me, ma ing such sweet moan of lo e as ne er was, yet her
face ed upon his eyes who lo ed her, and there glared in
hell‘s torment, the body e er stri ing against the soul which
should e ceed.
And, as I udge, by the fa our of Set the Soul gat mastery
therein.
Also, though I write it now, coldly, these many thousand
years afterward, ne er had I such oy of lo e of any woman as
with her, and at that hour, so that as I write it I remember
well across the mist of time e ery honey word she spo e,
e ery witching iss (our mouths strained sideways) that she
suc ed from my fainting lips, e ery shudder of her soft strong
body. I remember the ewelled coils of hair, how they stung
li e adders as they touched me; the sharp rapture of her
pointed nails pressing me, now el et-soft, now capricious—
cruel, now (lo e-maddened) thrust deep to draw blood, as they
played up and down my spine. But I saw nothing; by Osiris
I swear itl I saw nothing, sa e only the glare in the eyes
of that lost soul that writhed upon the wheel.
Indeed, as the hangman too out the corpse, we fell bac
g 345
 THE EQUINOX
and lay there among the waste of the ban uet, the agons
o erturned, the napery awry, the lamps e tinct or spilt, the
golden cups, chased with obscene images, thrown here and
there, the meats hanging o er the edge of their be ewelled
dishes, their uice staining the white lu ury of the linen; and
in the midst oursel es, our limbs as careless as the wind,
motionless.
One would ha e said: the end of the world is come. But
through all that ery abyss of sleep wherein I was plunged so
deep, still stirred the cool delight of the nowledge that I had
won the hand for which I played, that I was High Priest of
Osiris in Thebai.
But in the morning we rose and loathed each other, our
mouths awry, our tongues hanging loose from their corners
li e thirsty dogs, our eyes blin ing in agony from the torture
of daylight, our limbs stic y with stale sweat.
Therefore we rose and saluted each other in the dignity of
our high of ces; and we departed one from the other, and
puri ed oursel es
Then I went unto the Ceremony of Osiris, and for the
last time the shameful farce was played.
But in my heart I owed secretly to cleanse the temple of
its chicanery and folly. Therefore at the end of the ceremony
did I perform a mighty banishing, a banishing of all things
mortal and immortal, e en from Nuit that circleth in nite
Space unto Hadit the Core of Things; from Amoun that
ruleth before all the Gods unto Python the terrible Serpent
that abideth at the end of things, from Ptah the god of the
pure soul of aethyr unto Besz the brute force of that which is
grosser than earth, which hath no name, which is denser than
346
 ACROSS THE GULF
lead and more rigid than steel; which is blac er than the
thic dar ness of the abyss, yet is within all and about all.
Amen!
Then during the day I too counsel with myself, and de-
ised a cunning to match the cunning of them that had blas—
phemed Osiris, who had at last become my God.
Yea! bitterly would I a enge him on the morrow.

347
 CHAPTER IX
Now this was the manner of my wor ing, that I inspired the
High Priestess to an Oracle, so that she prophesied, saying
that Osiris should ne er be content with his ser ants unless
they had passed the four ordeals of the elements. Now of old
these rituals had been reser ed for a special grade of initiation.
The chapter was therefore not a little alarmed, until they
remembered how shamefully all the true magic was imitated,
so that the rumour went that this was but a de ice of the
High Priestess to increase the reputation of the temple for
sanctity. And, their folly con rming them in this, they agreed
cheerfully and boasted themsel es. Now then did I swathe
them one by one in the gra e-clothes of Osiris, binding upon
the breast an image, truly consecrated, of the god, with a
talisman against the four elements.
Then I set them one by one upon a narrow and lofty
tower, balanced, so that the least breath of wind would blow
them off into destruction
Those whom the air spared I ne t threw into Nile where
most it foams and races. Only a few the water ga e bac
again. These, howe er, did I bury for three days in the earth
without sepulchre or cof n, so that the element of earth might
combat them, And the rare ones whom earth spared I cast
upon a re of charcoal,
348
 ACROSS THE GULF
Now who is prepared for these ordeals (being rstly attuned
to the elements) ndeth them easy. He remains still, though
the tempest rage upon the tower; in the water he oats easily
and lightly; buried, he but throws himself into trance; and,
lastly, his wrappings protect him against the re, though all
Thebai went to feed the blaze,
But it was not so with this bastard priesthood of Osiris.
For of the three hundred only nine were found worthy. The
High Priestess, howe er, I brought through by my magic, for
she had amused me mightily, and I too great pleasure in her
lo e, that was wilder than the rage of all the elements in
one.
So I called together the nine who had sur i ed, all being
men, and ga e them instruction and counsel, that they should
form a secret brotherhood to learn and to teach the formula of
the Osiris in its supreme function of initiating the human
soul. That they should eep discipline in the temple only for
the sa e of the people, permitting e ery corruption yet with-
drawing themsel es from it. Is not the body perishable, and
the s in most pure? So also the ancient practice of embalm-
ing should fall into desuetude, and that soon; for the world was
past under the rule of Osiris, who lo eth the charnel and the
tomb.
All being sworn duly into this secret brotherhood I
appointed them, one to preside o er each grade, and him
of the lowest grade to select the candidates and to go ern the
temple.
Then did I perform the in o ing Ceremony of Osiris,
ha ing destroyed the blasphemous machinery; and now at
last did the God answer me, glittering with in nite brilliance.
34-9
 THE EQUINOX
Then I disclosed myself to the Priests, and they re oiced
e ceedingly that after all those years the old lie was abolished,
and the master come bac to his own.
But the god uttered an Oracle, saying: “This last time
shall I glitter with brilliance in My temple; for I am the god
of Life in Death, concealed. Therefore shall your magic
henceforth be a magic most secret in the heart; and whose
shall perform openly any miracle, him shall ye now for a liar
and a pretender to the sacred Wisdom.
“For this cause am I wrapped e er in a shroud of white
starred with the three acti e colours; these things conceal Me,
so that he who noweth Me hath passed beyond them.”
Then did the god call us each separately to him, and in
each ear did he whisper a secret formula and a word of power,
pertaining to the grade to which I had appointed him.
But to me he ga e the supreme formula and the supreme
word, the word that hath eight-and-se enty letters, the
formula that hath e-and-si ty limbs.
So then I de oted myself there and then to a completer
understanding of Osiris my God, so that I might disco er
his function in the whole course of the Cosmos.
For he that is born in the years of the power of a God
thin eth that God to be eternal, one, alone. But he that is
born in the hour of the wea ness of the God, at the death
of one and the birth of the other, seeth something (though
it be little) of the course of things And for him it is necessary
to understand fully that change of of ce (for the gods neither
die nor are re-born, but now one initiates and the other
guards, and now one heralds and the other sancti es) its
purpose and meaning in the whole scheme of things.
35ο
 ACROSS THE GULF
Sol, in this year V of the E uino of the Gods (1908)
wherein Horus too the place of Osiris, will by the light of
this my magical memory see to understand fully the formula
of Horus—Ra Hoor Khuit—my god, that ruleth the world
under Nuit and Hadit. Then as An h-f—na— honsu left unto
me the sie/z' 666 with the eys to that nowledge, so also
may I write down in hieroglyph the formula of the Lady of
the For ed Wand and of the Feather, that shall assume his
throne and place when the strength of Horus is e hausted.
So now the ser ice of the Gods was to be secret and their
magic concealed from men. They were to fall before the eyes
of men from their place, and little sewer—rats were to come
and moc at them, no man a enging them, and they utterly
careless, not stri ing for themsel es. Yet was there nowledge
of them which an initiate might gain, though so much more
dif cult, immeasurably higher and more intimate
My life from this moment became highly concentrated
upon itself. I had no time either for ascetic practices or for
any pleasures; nor would I ta e any acti e part in the ser ice
of the temple which, puri ed and regenerated, had become
both subtly perfect and perfectly subtle.
It was not all of the people who did at all comprehend
the change that had occurred; but the others obeyed and made
belie e to understand, lest their fellows should despise them.
So it happened that the more ignorant and stupid any person
was the more he feigned understanding; so that the least
de out appeared the most de out—as it is unto this day.
But for me all these things were as nothing; for I studied
e er the nature of Osiris, concentrating myself into mysterious
pure symbols, I understood why it was said that Isis had
35l
 THE EQUINOX
failed to disco er the Phallus of Osiris, and thus percei ed
the necessity of Horus to follow him in the great succession
of the E uino es. Moreo er I fashioned talismans of pure
light concerning Osiris, and I performed in light all the
ceremonies of initiation into his mysteries.
These were interpreted by wise men and translated into
the language of the twilight and gra en on stone and in the
memories of men.
Yet was I e en more intrigued in that great struggle to
apprehend the course of things, as it is seen from the stand—
point of Destiny. So that I might lea e true and intelligible
images to enlighten the mind of him(whether myself or another)
that should come after me to celebrate the E uino of the
Gods at the end of the period of Osiris.
As now hath come to pass.
Thus then three—and-thirty years I li ed in the temple of
Osiris as High Priest; and I subdued all men under me.
Also I abolished the of ce of priestess, for had not Isis failed
to nd that enerable Phallus without which Osiris must be
so melancholy a god? Therefore was Khemi to fall, and the
world to be dar and sorrowful for many years.
Therefore I made mine High Priestess into aser ing—maid,
and with eiled face she ser ed me all those many years,
ne er spea ing.
Yet they being accomplished, I thought t to reward her.
So magically I renewed about her the body of a young girl,
and for a year she ser ed me, un eiled and spea ing at her
pleasure.
And her time being come, she died.
Then I loo ed again into my destiny, and percei ed that
352
 ACROSS THE GULF
all my wor was duly accomplished. Nor could any use or
worth be found in my body.
So therefore I determined to accept my great reward, that
was granted unto me as the faithful minister of the god
F.I.A.T. that is behind all manifestation of Will and of
Intelligence, of whom Isis and Osiris and Horns are but the
ministers.
Of this, and of my death, I will spea on another occasion.
But rst I will discourse of the inhabitants of the
ingdom that encircleth the world, so that they whofem/ may
be comforted.

h 353
 CHAPTER X
BUT of these matters I am warned that I shall not now
become aware, for that there be great mysteries therein con-
tained, pertaining to a degree of initiation of which I am as
yet unworthy.
(T m the record comes abmþtly to un md.)

354
 THE TEMPLE OF SOLOMON
THE KING (Conlz uea’)

VII 355
 A A
Publication in Class B.
Imprimatur:
N.Fra..'. A.". A
 THE TEMPLE OF SOLOMON THE
KING (Cam'z'nued)
THE PRIEST
IN opening this the most important section of Frater P.'s
career, we may be met by the unthin ing with the criticism that
since it deals rather with his relation to others than with his
personal attainment, it has no place in this olume.
Such criticism is indeed shallow. True, the incidents
which we are about to record too place on planes material
or contiguous thereto; true, so obscure is the light by which
we wal that much must be left in doubt; true, we ha e not
as yet the supreme mystical attainment to record; but on the
other hand it is our View that the Seal set upon Attainment
may be itself ttingly recorded in the story of that Attainment,
and that no step in progress is more important than that
when it is said to the aspirant: “Now that you are able to
wal alone, let it be your rst care to use that strength to
help others!” And so this great e ent which we are about
to describe, an e ent which will lead, as time will show, to
the establishment of a New Hea en and a New Earth for all
men, wore the simplest and humblest guise. So often the
gods come clad as peasants or as children; nay, I ha e
listened to their oice in stones and trees.
357
 THE EQUINOX
Howe er, we must not forget that there are persons so
sensiti e and so credulous that they are con inced by any—
thing. suppose that there are nearly as many beds in the
world as there are men; yet for the E angelical e ery bed
conceals its esuit. We get “Milton composing baby
"
rhymes,” and Loc e reasoning in gibberish," di ine re ela—
tions which would shoc the intelligence of a sheep or a
Sa on; and we nd these upheld and defended with s ill and
courage.
Therefore since we are to announce the di ine re elation
made to Fra. P., it is of the last importance that we should
study his mind as it was at the time of the Un eiling. If we
nd it to be the mind 01 a neurotic, of a mystic, of a
person predisposed, we shall slight the re elation; if it
be that of a sane man of the world, we shall attach more
importance to it.
If some dingy Alchemist emerges from his laboratory,
and proclaims to all Tooting that he has made gold, men
doubt; but the con ersion to spiritualism of Professor
Lombroso made a great deal of impression on those who did
not understand that his criminology was but the heaped
delusion of a diseased brain.
So we shall nd that the A.'. A.". subtly prepared
Fra. . by o er two years’ training in rationalism and in—
differentism for Their message. And we shall nd that so
well did They do Their wor that he refused the message for
e years more, in spite of many strange proofs of its truth.
We shall nd e en that Fra. . had to be stripped na ed
of himself before he could effecti ely deli er the message.
The battle was between all that mighty will of his and
358
 THE TEMPLE OF SOLOMON THE KING
the Voice 01 a Brother who spo e once, and entered again
into His silence; and it was not Fra. P. who had the
ictory.
ξ

We left Fra. . in the autumn of 1901, ha ing made

considerable progress in Yoga. We noted that in 1902 he
did little or nothing either in Magic or Mysticism. The in—
terpretation of the occult phenomena which he had obser ed
occupied him e clusi ely, and his mind was more and more
attracted to materialism
What are phenomena? he as ed. Of noumena I now
and can now nothing. All I now is, as far as I now, a mere
modi cation 01 the mind, a phase of consciousness. And
thought is a secretion of the brain. Consciousness is a func-
tion of the brain,
If this thought was contradicted by the ob ious, “And
What is the brain? A phenomenon in mind!” it weighed
less with him. It seemed to his mind as yet unbalanced (as
all minds are unbalanced until they ha e crossed the Abyss),
that it was more important to insist on matter than on
mind. Idealism wrought such misery, was the father 01
all illusion, ne er led to research. And yet what odds?
E ery act or thought is determined by an in nity of causes,
is the resultant of an in nity of forces. He analysed free
will, found it illusion. He analysed God, saw that e ery man
had made God in his own image, saw the sa age and cannibal
Jews de oted to a sa age and cannibal God, who commanded
the rape of irgins and the murder of little children. He saw
the timid inhabitants of India, races continually the prey of
e ery robber tribe, in enting the effeminata Vishnu, while
359
 THE EQUINOX
under the same name their con uerors worshipped a warrior,
the con ueror of demon Swans. He saw the ower of the earth
throughout all time, the gracious Gree s, what gracious gods
they had in ented. He saw Rome, in its strength de oted to
Jupiter and Hercules, in its decay turning to emasculate Attis,
slain Adonis, murdered Osiris, cruci ed Christ. He could
e en trace in his own life e ery aspiration, e ery de otion, as
a re ection of his physical and intellectual needs. He saw,
too, the folly of all this supernaturalism. He heard the Boers
and the British pray to the same Protestant God, and it
occurred to him that the early successes of the former might
be due rather to superior alour than to superior praying power,
and their e entual defeat to the circumstance that they could
only bring 60,000 men against a uarter of a million. He saw,
too, the face of humanity mired in its own blood that dripped
from the leeches of religion fastened to its temples.
In all this he saw man as the only thing worth holding to;
the one thing that needed to be “ sa ed,” but also the one thing
that could sa e it.
All that he had attained, then, he abandoned, The intui-
tions of the Qabalah were cast behind him with a smile at his
youthful folly; magic, if true, led nowhere; Yoga had become
psychology. For the solution of his original problems of the
uni erse he loo ed to metaphysics; he de oted his intellect
to the cult of absolute reason. He too up once more with
Kant, Hume, Spencer, Hu ley, Tyndall, Maudsley, Manse ,
Fichte, Schelling, Hegel, and many another; while as for his
life, was he not a man? He had a wife he new his duty to
;

the race, and to his own ancient graft thereof. He was a

tra eller and a sportsman; ery well, then, li e it! So we
360
 THE TEMPLE OF SOLOMON THE KING
nd that from No ember 1901 he did no practices of any ind
until the Spring E uino of 1904, with the e ception ot'a casual
wee in the summer of 1903, and an e hibition game of magic
in the King’s Chamber ofthe Great Pyramid in No ember 1903,
when by his in ocations he lled that chamber with a bright—
ness as of full moonlight,1 only to conclude, “ There, you see
it? What's the good of it ? "
\Ve nd him climbing mountains, s ating, shing, hunting
big game, ful lling the duties of a husband we nd him with
;

the antipathy to all forms of spiritual thought and wor which

mar s disappointment.
If one goes up the wrong mountain by mista e, as may
happen, no beauties of that mountain can compensate for the
disillusionment when the error is laid bare, Leah may ha e
been a ery nice girl indeed, but Jacob ne er cared for her after
that terrible awa ening to nd her face on the pillow when,
after se en years’ toil, he wanted the e pected Rachel.
So Fra. P., after e years bar ing up the wrong tree, had
lost interest in trees altogether as far as climbing them was
concerned. He might indulge in a little human pride “ See, :

Jac , that’s the branch I cut my name on when I was a boy";

but e en had he seen in the forest the Tree of Life itself with
the golden fruit of Eternity in its branches, he would ha e done
no more than lift his gun and shoot the pigeon that itted
through its foliage
Ofthis " withdrawal from the ision " the proofis not merely
deducible from the absence of all occult documents in his
dossier, and from the full occupation of his life in e ternal and
1This was no sub ecti e illusion. The light was suf cient for him to read
the ritual by.
361
 THE EQUINOX
mundane duties and pleasures, but is made irrefragible and
emphatic by the positi e e idence of his writings. Of these
we ha e se eral e amples. Two are dramatisations 01 Gree
mythology, a sub ect offering e ery opportunity to the occultist.
Both are mar edly free from any such allusions We ha e
also a slim boo let in which the oys 01 pure human lo e are
pictured without the faintest tinge 01 mystic emotion. Further,
we ha e a play in which the Origin 01 Religion, as concei ed
by Spencer or Frazer, is dramatically shown forth ; and lastly
we ha e a satire, hard, cynical, and brutal in its estimate 01
society, but careless of any remedy for its ills.
It is as if the whole past 01 the man with all its aspiration
and attainment was blotted out. He saw life (for the rst time,
perhaps) with commonplace human eyes, Cynicism he could
understand, romance he could understand ; all beyond was
dar . Happiness was the bedfellow of contempt.
As to miracles and prophecies, he was as sceptical as the
famous Pope 01 Rome who “didn‘t belie e in them; he had
seen too many." 11211 angel had appeared to him, he would
ha e e plained him away as cheerily as the late Fran Podmore.
He was as ready to ac uiesce in the unhistoricity of Gotama
as in that of Jesus, If he called himselfa Buddhist, it was the
agnostic and atheistic philosophy and the acentric nominalist
psychology that attracted him. The precepts and practices 01
Buddhism earned only his disli e and contempt.
We learn that, late in 1903, he was proposing to isit China
on a sporting e pedition when a certain ery commonplace com-
munication made to him by his wife caused him to postpone
it. “Let’s go and ill something for a month or two,” said
he, “ and if you're right, we'll get bac to nurses and doctors"
362
 THE TEMPLE OF SOLOMON THE KING
So we nd them in Hambantota, the south-eastern
pro ince of Ceylon, occupied solely with buffalo, elephant,
leopard, sambhur, and the hundred other ob ects of the chase.
We here insert e tracts from the diary, indeed a meagre
production—after what we ha e seen of his pre ious record
in Ceylon.
Whole wee s pass without a word; the great man was
playing bridge, po er, or golf!
The entry of February 19th reads as if it were going to
be interesting, but it is followed by that of February 20th.
It is, howe er, certain that about the 14th of March he too
possession ofa at in Cairo—in the Season !

Can bathos go further?

50 that the entry of March 16th is dated from Cairo.
[Our notes gi en in round brac ets
FRATER R’s DIARY
(This diary is e tremely incomplete and fragmentary. Many entries, too,
are e idently irrele ant or “blinds." We omit much of the latter two types.)
“This e entful year 903 nds me at a nameless camp in the ungle of
Southern Pro ince of Ceylon; my thoughts, otherwise di ided between Yoga
and sport, are di erted by the fact of a wife . .”
.

(This reference to Yoga is the subconscious Magical Will of the Vowed

Initiate. He was not doing anything; but, on uestioning himself, as was his
custom at certain seasons, he felt obliged to af rm his Aspiration.)
an. I. . . (Much blotted out) . . . missed deer and hare. So annoyed.
.

Yet the omen is that the year is well for wor s of Lo e and Union; ill for
those of Hate. Be mine of Lo e (Note that he does not add “ and Union ").
1

an. 28. Embar for Suez.

F6117. Suez.
Fe&. 8. Landed at Port Said.
Fz . 9. To Cairo.
Feb. 11. Saw b. l'. g.
b. f. b.
(This entry is uite unintelligible to us.)
363
 THE EQUINOX
Feb. 19. To Helwan as Oriental Despot.
(Apparently . had assumed some disguise, probably with the intention
of trying to study Islam from within as he had done with Hinduism.)
Feb. zo. Began golf.
March 16. Began INV. (in ocation). 1A9.
March 17. same appeared.
Mart/z !& Told to INV. (in o e) [ /‫ ? שש‬as Θ by new way.
Man/z [9. Did this badly at noon 3o.
March 20. At lO pm. did well—E uino of Gods—oi; Ne (? new)
C.R.C. (Christian Rosy Cross, we con ecture.) Hoori now Hpnt (ob iously
“ Hierophant ").
March 2r. Θ in '['. LA.!VL (? one o‘cloc .)
March 22. X.P.B.
(May this and the entry March 24 refer to the Brother of the A. '. Α.
who found him ? (
'.
E.P.D. in 84 mi
(Unintelligible to us possibly a blind.)
:

March 23. .done. (? His wor on the Yi King.)

Man/z 24. && isi;! again‘
Mun 25. 8231 Thus
461 ,, ,,:pt'lyzbz
&
(Blot) wch trouble with ds.
(Blot) RB. (All unintelligible; possibly a blind.)
April 6. Go ” again to H, ta ing A’s p.
(This probably a blind.)

Before we go further into the history of this period we

must premise as follows.
Fra. P. ne er made a thorough record of this period. He
seems to ha e wa ered between absolute scepticism in the
bad sense, a disli e of the re elation, on the one hand, and
real enthusiasm on the other. And the rst of these moods
would induce him to do things to spoil the effect of the latteri
Hence the “ blinds” and stupid meaningless cyphers which
deface the diary.
And, as if the Gods themsel es wished to dar en the
364
 THE TEMPLE OF SOLOMON THE KING
Pylon, we nd that later, when P.‘s proud will had been
bro en, and he wished to ma e straight the way of the
historian, his memory (one of the nest memories in the
world) was utterly incompetent to ma e e erything certain.
Howe er, nothing of which he was not certain will be
entered in this place.
We ha e one uite unspoiled and authoritati e document
“The Boo of Results," written in one of the small Japanese
ellum note-boo s which he used to carry. Unfortunately,
it seems to ha e been abandoned after e days. What
happened between March 23rd and April 8th?

THE BOOK OF RESULTS

[Via/ch Die 9, I in o e IAQ.
‫י‬16171?

(Fra. . tells us that this was done by the ritual of the

”Bornless One,”l merely to amuse his wife by showing her
the sylphs. She refused or was unable to see any sylphs,
but became ”inspired,” and ept on saying: “They’re
waiting for you! ”)
XV. says “ they” are “ waiting for me.”
17. 71-

It is “ all about the child." Also “all Osiris."

(Note the cynic and sceptic tone of this entry. How
different it appears in the light of Liber 418 l)
Thoth, in o ed with great success, indwells us.
(Yes; but what happened? Fra. P. has no sort of idea.)
18. ?. Re ealed that the waiter was Horus, whom I had
offered and ought to in o e. The ritual re ealed in s eleton.
Promise of success h or O and of Samadhi.
This is identical with the “Preliminary In ocation " in the “ Goetia.”
365
 THE EQUINOX
(Is this “waiter” another sneer? We are uncertain.)
The re ealing of the ritual (by W. the seer) consisted chie y
in a prohibition of all formulae hitherto used, as will be seen
from the te t printed below.
It was probably on this day that P. cross-e amined W.
about Horus. Only the stri ing character of her identi -
cation ο the God, surely, would ha e made him trouble to
obey her. He remembers that he only agreed to obey her in
order to show her how silly she was, and he taunted her that
“nothing could happen if you bro e all the rules.”
Here therefore we insert a short note of Fra. P.
How W. new Η. (Ra Hoor Khuit).
1. Force and Fire (I as ed her to describe his moral
ualities).
2. Deep blue light. (I as ed her to describe the condition
caused by him. This light is uite unmista able and
uni ue; but of course her words, though a air description
of it, might e ually apply to some other.)
3. Horus. ( as ed her to pic out his name from a list
of ten dashed off at haphazard.)
4.. Recognised his gure when shown. (This refers to the
stri ing scene in the Boula Museum, which will be dealt
with in detail.)
5. Knew my past relations with the God. (This means, I
thin , that she new I had ta en his place in temple, etc, and
that I had ne er once in o ed him.)
6. Knew his enemy. (I as ed, ”Who is his enemy?”
Reply, “Forces of the waters—of the Nile.” W. new no
Egyptology—or anything else.)
7. Knew his lineal gure and its colour. (A 33) chance.)
366
 THE TEMPLE OF SOLOMON THE KING
8. Knew his place in temple. (A chance, at the least.)
9. Knew his weapon (from a list of 6).
IO. Knew his planetary nature (from a list of 7
planets.)
II. Knew his number (from a list ο the 10 units).
12. Pic ed him out of (a) Fi e . .
Three indifferent,
.
Le. arbitrary
( )
symbols. (This means that I settled in my own mind that
say D of A, B, C, D, and E should represent him, and that
she then said D.)

We cannot too strongly insist on the e traordinary

character of this identi cation.
We had made no pretension to clair oyance, nor had P.
e er tried to train her.
P. had great e perience ο clair oyants, and it was always
a point of honour with him to bowl them out. And here was
the no ice, a woman who should ne er ha e been allowed
outside a ballroom, spea ing with the authority of God, and
pro ing it by unhesitating correctness.
One slip, and Fra. P. would ha e sent her to the de il.
And that slip was not made. Calculate the odds! We
cannot nd a mathematical e pression for tests I, 2, 4, 5, or 6.

in;
But the other 7 tests gi e us
L 4)(6‘ 7
Ξ
l l L
10X15—21,168,ooo
5311() (!?

Twenty-one millions to one against her getting through

half the ordealI

E en if we suppose what is absurd, that she new the

367
 THE EQUINOX
correspondences of the Qabalah as well as Fra. F., and had
nowledge of his own secret relations with the Unseen, we
must strain telepathy to e plain test 12.
But we now that she was perfectly ignorant of the subtle
correspondences, which were only e isting at that time in
Fra. P.'s own brain.
And e en if it were so, how are we to e plain what
followed—the disco ery of the St l of Re ealing?
To apply test 4, Fra. P. too her to the museum at
Boula , which they had not pre iously isited She passed
by (as P. noted with silent glee) se eral images of Horus.
They went upstairs, A glass case stood in the distance, too
far off or its contents to be recognised. But W. recognised
itl "There," she cried, "There he is I ”
Fra. P. ad anced to the case, There was the image of
Horus in the form of Ra Hoor Khuit painted upon a wooden
st l of the 26th dynasty—mu! Me e hibit ban; number
666!
(And after that it was e years before Fra . was forced
to obedience.)
This incident must ha e occurred before the 23rd March,
as the entry on that date refers to An h-f—n— honsu,
Here is P.'s description of the ‫י‬51616?
“ In the museum at Cairo, No, 666 is the stel of the
Priest An h-f—n- honsu.
Horus has a red Dis and green Ur us,
1
We may add, too. that Fra. P. thin s, but is not uite certain, that he
also tested her with the Hebrew alphabet and the Tarot trumps, in which case
the long odds must be still further multiplied by 484, bringing them o er the
billion mar !
368
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A PARAPHRASE O ? ΤΗΕ ΝΞ Τ ΟΝΞ UPON
THE OBVERSE OF THE 51 ‘LE OF REVELLING
Abo e, the gemmecl azure is
The na ed splendour or Nuit;
She bends in ecstasy to iss
The secret ardours of audit.
‫ ?'ת‬winged globe, the starry blue
Are rnine, o An h-f-n-Khonsu.

I am the Lord of Thebes, and I

The insplred forth-spea er or Mentu;
For me un eils the eiled s y,
The selisslain An h-f n-Khnnsu
Whose words are truth, 1 in o e, I greet
Thy presence, o Ra-Hoor—Khuit!
Unity uttermost showed !

I adore the might of Thy breath,

Supreme and terrible God,
Who ma est the gods and death
Το tremble before Thee :
I, I adore thee!

Appear on the throne of Ra!

Open the ways of the Khu!
Lighten the ways or the Ka!
The ways of the Khabs run through
To stir me or still me!
Aum! let it ill me!

The Light is mine; its rays consume

Me: I ha e made a secret door
Imo the House or Ra and Tum,
Of Khephra, and ο Altathoor.
I am thy 'l‘hebnn, o Mentu,
The prophet An h-f-n-Khonsu !

By Bes-na-Maut my breast I beat;

By wise Ta-Nech I ueu e my spell
Show thy star-splendour, Ο Nuith !
Bid me within thine House to dwell,
O wing rl sna e of light, Hadith!
Abide with me, Ra-Hoor-Khuitl
A PARAPHRASE OF THE HIEROGLYPHS OF THE
? LINES UPON THE REVERSE OF THE STELE

Saith of Mentu the wuth-telling brother

Who was master of Thebes from his birth:
0 heart of me, heart of my mother!
Ο heart which I had upon earth 1

Stand not thou up against me a witness!

Oppose me not, udge, in my uest!
Accuse me not now ot un tness
Before the Great God, the dread Lord af the West 1

For I fastened the one to the other

With a spell let their mystical girth,
The earth and the wonderful West,
When I ourished, ο earth, on thy breast!

The dead man An h-f—n-Khonsu

Saith with his oice of truth and calm:
0 thou that hast a single arm1

0 thou that giitterest in the moon !

[wea e thee in the spinning charm ;

lure thee with the billowy tune

The dead man An h-f—n-Khonsu

Hath parted from the dar iing crowds,
Hath oined the dwellers of the light,
Opening Duant, the star-abodes,
Their eys recei ing.
The dead man An h—f-n-Khonsu
Hath made his passage into night,
His pleasure on the earth to dn
Among the li ing.
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 THE TEMPLE OF SOLOMON THE KING
His face is green, his s in indigo.
His nec lace, an lets, and bracelets are gold.
His nemyss nearly blac from blue.
His tunic is the Leopard’s s in, and his apron green
and gold.
Green is the wand of double Power; his nh. is
empty.
His throne is indigo the gnomon, red the s uare.
The light is gamboge.
Abo e him are the Winged Globe and the bent gure
of the hea enly Isis, her hands and feet touching
earth.
[We print the most recent translation of the St l , by
Messrs Alan Gardiner, Litt.D., and Battiscombe Gunn. It
differs slightly from that used by Fra P., which was due to
the assistant-curator of the Museum at Bula .

STELE OF ANKH-F-NA-KHONSU.
OBVERSE.
T[7105/ !? Regirler (under Wiuga! Dis ).
Behdet (? Hadit?), the Great God, the Lord of Hea en.
wm’r e Register.
Two ertical lines to left : ,,
Ra—Hara hti, Master of the Gods.
Fit/e "uertim! lines ta ght .'--
Osiris, the Priest of Montu, Lord of Thebes, Opener
of the doors of Nut in Karna , An h-f—na—Khonsu, the
Justi ed,
369
 THE EQUINOX
Below Altar
:᾽
O en, Geese, Wine, (?) Bread.
Behind god is the lzzerogbiþlz af Amem‘z'.
Lou/25f Register.
(1) Saith Osiris, the Priest of Montu, Lord of Thebes,
the Opener of the Doors of Nut in Karna , An h-f—na-
Khonsu, (2) the Justi ed ” :? Hail, Thou whose praise
is high (the highly praised), thou great—willed, O Soul
(ba) ery awful (lit. mighty of awe) that gi eth the
terror of him (3) among the Gods, shining in glory
upon his great throne, ma ing ways for the Soul (ba),
for the Spirit (ya /1) and for the Shadow (thaw). I
am prepared, and I shine forth as one that is prepared.
ha e made way to the place in which are Ra, Τ πι,
(4) 1
Khepri and Hathor." Osiris, the Priest of Montu,
Lord of Thebes, (5) An h—f—na-Khonsu, the Justi ed;
son of MNBSNMT‘; born of the Sistrum—bearer of
Amon, the Lady Atne—sher.
REVERSE.
Ele en lines of writing,
(I) Saith Osiris, the Priest of Montu, Lord of Thebes,
An h-f—(2)na-Khonsu, the Justi ed 2—“ My heart from
my mother, my heart from my mother, my heart2 of
my e istence (3) upon earth, stand not forth against
me as a witness, dri e me not bac (4) among the
The father's name. The method of spelling shows he was a foreigner.
1

There is no clue to the ocalisation.

“ Different word,
apparently synonymous, but probably not so at all,
370
 THE TEMPLE OF SOLOMON THE KING
So ereign Judges neither incline against me in the
presence of the Great God. the Lord of the West.2
(5) Now that I am united with Earth in the Great
West, and endure no longer upon Earth. (6) Saith
Osiris, he who is in Thebes, An h—f-na—Khonsu, the
Justi edz—“O Only.(7)0ne, shining li e (or in) the
Moon; Osiris An h-f—(8)na-Khonsu has come forth
upon high among these thy multitudes. (9) He that
gathereth together those that are in the Light, the
Underworld (dumi) is [also (10) opened to him; 10,
Osiris An h—f—na—Khonsu, cometh forth by (11) day
to do all that he wisheth upon earth among the
li ing."
There is one other ob ect to complete the secret of
Wisdom —--or,3 it is in the hieroglyphs.
This last paragraph is, we suppose, dictated by W.)
We now return to the “ Boo of Results.”
19. h The ritual written out and the in ocation done—
little success.
20. o Re ealed‘ that the E uino of the Gods is come.
Horus ta ing the Throne of the East and all rituals, etc.,
being abrogated.
(To e plain this we append the G.D.ritual of the
E uino , which was celebrated in the spring and autumn
1
Quite an arbitrary and con entional translation of the original word.
“’
Osiris, of course.
: . notes " perhaps a Thoth.”
' We cannot ma e out if this re elation comes from W. or is a result of the
ritual. But almost certainly the former, as it precedes the “Great Success”
entry.
z'
VII 37 1
 THE EQUINOX
within 48 hours of the actual dates of Sol entering Aries
and Libra.)

FESTIVAL OF THE EQUINo

(Temple arranged as for O Ο)

Ht, Omar/ s). Fratres and Sorores of all grades of the Golden Dawn in the
Vernal '
Outer, let us celebrate the Festi al of the Autumnal E uino . ' I

All ri e,
Ht. Frater Keru , proclaim the fact, and announce the abrogation of the
present Pass Word.
K. (going to Ηι’: ugg/tl, saluting, and facing Wart). In the Name of the
Lord of the Uni erse, and by command of the V.I-I.I-It., I proclaim the
Vernal
Autumnal E uino ,
[ and declare that the Pass Word —
is abrogated.

Hl, Let us, according to ancient custom, consecrate the return of the
Vernal .
Autumnal E umo ,
Light.
H:. Dar ness.
Ht. East.
Hs. West.
Hl. Air.
Hs. Water.
Hg. ( not/E ). I am the Reconciler between them.
Allgz'uz signs.
. Heat.
Cold.
South.
.
/ ‫ש ש‬

. North.
Fire.
.

. Earth.

Hg. (lana:/e. ). I am the Reconciler between them.

All gif/z signis.
Ht, ( not/h). One Creator.
D. One Preser er,
H:. (bauþs). One Destroyer.
372
 THE TEMPLE OF SOLOMON THE KING
Ht. Let us in o e the Lord of the Uni erse.
Lord of the Uni erse, Blessed be Thy Name unto the Eternal Agesr
Loo with fa our upon this Order, and grant that its members may at
length attain to the true Summum Bonum, the Stone of the Wise,
the Perfect \Visdom and the Eternal Light,
To the Glory of Thine Ineffable Name, AMEN.
All salum.
Hl. Frater Keru , in the Name of the Lord of the Uni erse,I command
Vernal
you to declare that the Autumnal [ E uino has returned, and that is the
—
Password for the ne t si months
K. In the Name of the Lord of the Uni erse and by command of the
V.H.Ht., I declare that the Sun has entered 31: , the Sign of the
Vernal , .
the ensuing half-year Will
E uino , and that the lassword
. or
.
Autumnal .

be —.
Ht, Khabsr Pa . Int
Hr. Am, Kon . E tension.
Hg. Pe ht. Om. Light

20. (cmld.)—Great success in midnight in ocation.

(The other diary says 10 RM. “ Midnight” is perhaps a
loose phrase, or perhaps mar s the clima of the ritual.)
I am to formulate a new lin of an order with the solar
force.
(It is not clear what happened in this in ocation ; but it is
e ident from another note of certainly later date, that " great
success ” does not mean “ Samadhi.” For P. writes: ”I ma e
it an absolute condition that I should attain Samadhi, in the
god’s own interest." His memory concurs in this Itwas the
Samadhi attained in October 1906 that set him again in the
path of obedience to this re elation.
But that “ great success ” means something ery important
375
 THE EQUINOX
is clear enough. The sneering sceptic ofthe 17th March must
ha e had a shoc before he wrote those words.)
21. ((. Θ enters .‫?' י‬
22. a. The day of rest, on which nothing whate er of magic
is to be done at all. I; is to be the great day of in ocation.
(This note is due to W.’s prompting, or to his own ration-
alising imagination.)
23. . The Secret of Wisdom
(We omit the record of a long and futile Tarot di ination)
At this point we may insert the Ritual which was so
successful on the 20th.

INVOCATION OF HORUS ACCORDING To THE

DIVINE VISION OF W. THE SEER
Το be performed before a window Open to the Ε. or N.
without incense. The room to be lled with ewels, but only
diamonds to be worn. A sword, unconsecrated. 44 pearl
beads to be told. Stand. Bright daylight at 12.30 noon.
Loc doors. White robes. Bare feet. Be ery loud.
Saturday. Use the Sign of Apophis and Typhon.
The abo e is W.’s answer to arious uestions posed by P.

Preliminary. Banish. L.B.R. Pentagram. L.B.R. He a—

gram. Flaming Sword. Abrahadabra. In o e. As before.
[These are P.’s ideas for the ritual. W. replied, “ Ornit.”
[The MS. of this Ritual bears many internal mar s of
ha ing been written at white heat and left unre ised, sa e
perhaps for one glance. There are mista es in grammar
and spelling uni ue in all MSS. of Fra, P.; the use of
capitals is irregular, and the punctuation almost wanting
376
 THE TEMPLE OF SOLOMON THE KING
CONFESSION
Unprepared and unin o ing Thee, I, ο , Fra, R. R. et
A. C., am here in Thy Presence—for Thou art E erywhere, Ο
Lord Horus l—to confess humbly before Thee my neglect and
scorn of Thee.
How shall I humble myself enough before Thee? Thou
art the mighty and uncon uered Lord of the Uni erse: 1 am
a spar of Thine unutterable Radiance.
How should I approach Thee ?—but Thou art E erywhere.
But Thou hast graciously deigned to call me unto Thee, to
this E orcism of Art, that I may be Thy Ser ant, Thine
Adept, 0 Bright One, Ο Sun of Glory Thou hast called me—
!

should I not then hasten to Thy Presence?

With unwashen hands therefore I come unto Thee, and I
lament my wandering from Thee—but Thou nowest !

Yea, I ha e done e il!

If one1 blasphemed Thee, why should I therefore forsa e
Thee? But thou art the A enger; all is with Thee.
I bow my nec before Thee and as once Thy sword was
;

upon it,2 so am I in Thy hands. Stri e if Thou wilt: spare

if Thou Wilt: but accept me as I am.
My trust is in Thee: shall I be confounded? This Ritual
of Art; this Forty and Fourfold In ocation; this Sacri ce of
Blood 3——these I do not comprehend.
' Doubtless a reference to S.R.M.D., who was much obsessed by Mars
P. saw Horus at rst as Geburah; later as an aspect of Tiphereth, including
Chesed and Geburah (the red Triangle in erted), an aspect opposite to Osiris.
2
See G.: Du. Ceremony of Neophyte, the Obligation.
3
Merely, we suppose, that 44 DM, blood. Possibly a bowl of blood was
used. P. thin s it was in some of the wor ings at this time, but is not sure if it
was this one.
377
 THE EQUINOX
It is enough if I obey Thy decree; did thy at go forth
for my eternal misery, were it not my oy to e ecute Thy
Sentence on myself?
For why? For that All is in Thee and of Thee; it is
enough if I burn up in the intolerable glory of Thy
presence.
Enough! I turn toward Thy Promise.
Doubtful are the Words Dar are the Ways but in Thy
: :

Words and Ways is Light. Thus then now as e er, Ienter

the Path of Dar ness, if haply so I may attain the Light.
Hail!
a I ‫?א‬

Stri e, stri e the master chord

!

Draw, draw the Flaming Sword!

Crowned Child and Con uering Lord,
Horus, a enger!

I. Ο Thou of the Head of the Haw ! Thee, Thee, I

I
in o e! [At e ery " Thee imm/ee," throughout who/'e ritual,
gi e Me 52;”; of Aþoþhi
A. Thou only—begotten—child of Osiris Thy Father, and
Isis Thy Mother. He that was slain; She that bore Thee in
Her womb, ying from the Terror of the Water.
Thee, Thee, I in o e!
2. Ο Thou whose Apron is of ashing white, whiter than
the Forehead of the Morning!
Thee, Thee, in o e!
B. Ο Thou who hast formulated Thy Father and made
fertile Thy Mother!
Thee, Thee, I in o e!
378
 THE TEMPLE OF SOLOMON THE KING
3, Ο Thou whose garment is of golden glory, with the
azure bars of s y!
Thee, Thee, I in o e!
C. Thou who didst a enge the Horror of Death ; Thou the
slayer of Typhon! Thou who didst lift Thine arms, and the
Dragons of Death were as dust; Thou who didst raise Thine
Head, and the Crocodile of Nile was abased before Thee!
Thee, Thee, I in o e!
4. O Thou whose Nemyss hideth the Uni erse with night,
the impermeable Blue!
Thee, Thee, I in o e!
D. Thou who tra ellest in the Boat of Ra, abiding at the
Helm of the Aftet boat and of the Se tet boat!
Thee, Thee, I in o e!
5. Thou who bearest the Wand of Double Power!
Thee, Thee, I in o e!
Ε. Thou about whose presence is shed the dar ness of
Blue Light, the unfathomable glory of the outmost Ether, the
untra elled, the unthin able immensity of Space, Thou who
concentrest all the Thirty Ethers in one dar ling sphere of
Fire!
Thee, Thee, I in o e!
6. Ο Thou who bearest the Rose and Cross of Life and
Light!
Thee, Thee, I in o e!

The Voice of the Fi e.

The Voice of the Si .
Ele en are the Voices.
Abrahadabra !

379
 THE EQUINOX

:
Stri e, stri e the master chord
!

Draw, draw the Flaming Sword !

Crowned Child and Con uering Lord,

Horus, a enger!

By thy name of Ra I in o e Thee, Haw of the Sun,

1.
the glorious one!
2. By thy name Harmachis, youth of the Brilliant Morning,
I in o e Thee!
3. By thy name Mau, I in o e Thee, Lion of the Mid—
day Sun.
4. By thy name Tum, Haw of the E en, crimson splendour
of the Sunset, I in o e Thee!
5‘ By thy name Khep—Ra I in o e Thee, 0 Beetle of the
hidden Mastery of Midnight!
A. By thy name Heru-pa—Kraat, Lord of Silence, Beauti—
ful Child that standest on the Dragons of the Deep, I in o e
Thee!
B. By thy name of Apollo, I in o e Thee, Ο man of
strength and splendour, O poet, Ο father!
C. By thy name of Phoebus, that dri est thy chariot through
the Hea en of eus, I in o e Thee!
D. By thy name of Odin I in o e Thee, O warrior of the
North, 0 Renown of the Sagas!
E. By thy name of Jeheshua, O child of the Flaming Star,
I in o e Thee!
F. By Thine own, Thy secret name Hoori, Thee I
in o e!
380
 THE TEMPLE OF SOLOMON THE KING
The Names are Fi e.
The Names are Si .
Ele en are the Names
Abrahadabra I

Behold! I stand in the midst. Mine is the symbol of Osiris;

to Thee are mine eyes e er turned. Unto the splendour of
Geburah, the Magni cence of Chesed, the mystery of Daath,
thither I lift up mine eyes. This ha e I sought, and I ha e
sought the Unity: hear Thou me!
7111:
1. Mine is the Head of the Man, and my insight is een
as the Haw ‘s.
By my Head I in o e Thee!
A. I am the only-begotten child of my Father and Mother.
By my Body I in o e Thee!
2. About me shinethe Diamonds of Radiance white and pure.
By their brightness I in o e Thee !

B. Mine is the Red Triangle Re ersed, the Sign1 gi en of

none, sa e it be of Thee, Ο Lord!
By the Lamen I in o e Thee!
3. Mine is the garment of white sewn with gold, the
ashing abbai that I wear.
By my robe I in o e Thee!
C. Mine is the Sign of Apophis and Typhon !

By the sign I in o e Thee!

4, Mine is the turban of white and gold, and mine the
blue igour of the intimate air!
’ This sign had been pre iously communicated by W. It was entirely new
to P.
381
 THE EQUINOX
By my crown I in o e Thee I
D. My ngers tra el on the Beads of Pearl: so run I
after Thee in thy car of glory.
By my ngers I in o e Thee!
[On the Saturday the string of pearls bro e: so I changed
the in ocation to “ My mystic sigils tra el in the Bar of the
A asa, etc. By the spells I in o e Thee !—P.
5. I bear the Word of Double Power in the Voice of the
Master—Abrahadabra !

By the Word I in o e Thee!

Ε. Mine are the dar -blue wa es of music in the song
that I made of old to in o e thee—
Stri e, stri e the master chord!
Draw, draw the Flaming Sword !

Crowned Child and Con uering Lord,

Horus, a enger!
By the Song I in o e Thee!
6. In my hand is thy Sword of Re enge; let it stri e at
Thy Bidding!
By the Sword I in o e Thee!
The Voice of the Fi e,
The Voice of the Si .
Ele en are the Voices.
Abrahadabra I

IV "

[This section merely repeats α ‫?א‬ 111 the rst person.

Thus it begins :

382
 THE TEMPLE OF SOLOMON THE KING
1. “ Mine is the Head of the Haw ! Abrahadabral”, and
ends:
6. “I
bear the Rose and Cross of Life and Light!
Abrahadabra!” gi ing the Sign at each Abrahadabra. Re-
maining in the Sign, the in ocation concludes :
Therefore I say unto thee: Come Thou forth and dwell
in me; so that e ery my Spirit, whether of the Firmament, or
of the Ether, of the Earth or under the Earth; on dry land
or in the Water, or \Nhirling Air or of rushing re; and
e ery spell and scourge of God the Vast One may be THOU.
Abrahadabra !

The Adoration—impromptu.

Close by banishing. [ thin this was omitted at W.'s

orden—P.

During the period March 23rd—April 8th, whate er

else may ha e happened, it is at least certain that wor was
continued to some e tent, that the inscriptions of the st le
were translated for Fra. P., and that he paraphrased the latter
in erse. For we nd him using, or prepared to use, the
same in the te t of Liber Legis.
Perhaps then, perhaps later, he made out the “name-
coincidences of the Qabalah” to which we must now direct
the reader’s attention.
The MS. is a mere fragmentary s etch.
Ch 8 Ch I Th 418 Abrahadabra RA HVVR (Ra-Hoor).
Also 8 is the great symbol I adore,
(This may be because of its li eness to eo or because of its (old G . ' . D .
' .)
attribution to Daath, P. being then a rationalist; or or some other reason.)
383
 THE EQUINOX
So is O,
O A in the Boo of Thoth (The Tarot).
A: in 0:6.
with all its great meanings,
Now 666 My name.
the number of the st l .
the number of the Beast. (See Apocalypse.)
the number of the Θ
The Beast A Ch I H A 666 in run. (The usual spelling is ChlVA.)
(A IIICh 4181 20 H 6 A III.)
HRV-RA-HA.
211 2oi 6 418.
(This name occurs only in L. Legis, and is a test of that boo rather than
of the st l .)
ANKH-P—N-KHONShV-Tz 6.
(We trust the addition of the termination T will be found usti ed.)
BesAn maut B l Sh-NA-MAVT 1 :888

Ta-Nich TA-NICh. : ? A.
Nuteru NVThI RV 666.
Montu MVNTV IIL
Aiwass AlVAS 78, the in uence or messenger, or the Boo T.
Ta-Nich TA-NlCh 78i Alternati ely, Sh for Ch gi es 37o, Ο Sh Creations

So much we e tract from olumes lled with minute cal-

culations, of which the bul is no longer intelligible e en to
Fra. P.
His memory, howe er, assures us that the coincidences were
much more numerous and stri ing than those we ha e been
able to reproduce here but his attitude is, we understand, that
;

after all “ It’s all in Liber Legis. ‘Success is thy proof: argue
not; con ert not; tal not o ermuchl’" And indeed in the
Comment to that Boo will be found suf cient for the most
wary of in uii‘ers.
Now who, it may be as ed, was Aiwass? It is the name
gi en by W. to P. as that of her informant. Also it is the
name gi en as that of the re ealer of Liber Legis. But whether
384
 THE TEMPLE OF SOLOMON THE KING
Aiwass is a spiritual being, or a man nown to Fra, P,, is a
matter of the merest con ecture. His number is 78, that of
Mezla, the Channel through which MacroprosoPus re eals Him—
self to, or showers His in uence upon, Microprosopus. So
we nd Fra. P. spea ing of him at one time as of another, but
more ad anced, man at another time as if it were the name
;

of his own superior in the Spiritual Hierarchy. And to all

uestions Fra. P. nds a reply, either pointing out " the subtle
metaphysical distinction between curiosity and hard wor ,” or
indicating that among the Brethren “ names are only lies,” or
in some other way defeating the ery plain purpose of the
historian,
The same remar applies to all ueries with regard to
V,ViViV.Vi ; with this addition, that in this case he condescends
to argue and to instruct. “ If I tell you,” he once said to the
present writer, " that V.V.V.V,V. is a Mr Smith and li es at
Clapham, you will at once go round and tell e erybody that
V.V.V.V,V. is a Mr Smith 01 Clapham, which is not true,
V,V.V.V.V. is the Light of the World itself, the sole Mediator
between God and Man; and in your present frame of mind
(that ofa poopstic ) you cannot see that the two statements
may be identical for the Brothers 01 the A . ' . A . ,
!
Did not
your great-grandfather argue that no good thing could come
out of Nazareth? " Is not this the carpenter’s son? is not
his mother called Mary? and his brethren, James, and Joses,
and Simon, and Judas? And his sisters, are they not all
with us? VVhence then hath this man all these things ?
And they were offended in him."
Similarly, with regard to the writing of Liber Legis, Fra. P.
will only say that it is in no way “automatic writing," that he
385
 TH Ε EQUINOX
heard clearly and distinctly the human articulate accents of a
man. Once, on page 6, he is told to edit a sentence and once,
;

on page 19, W. supplies a sentence which he had failed to hear.

Το this writing we now turn.
It must ha e been on the 7th of April that W. commanded
P. (now somewhat cowed) to enter the “ temple” e actly at 12
o’cloc noon on three successi e days, and to write down what
he should hear, rising e actly at I o’cloc r
This he did. Immediately on his ta ing his seat the Voice
began its Utterance, and ended e actly at the e piration of the
hour.
These are the three chapters of Liber Legis, and we ha e
nothing to add to the comment prepared by Fra. P. himself
while the Sun was in the sign of the Virgin, AnnoV from this
rst re elation.
Note, howe er, the 65 pages of MS., and the 220 erses.

The reproduction of Liber Legis has been done thus

minutely in order to pre ent the casual reader from wasting
his aluable time o er it.
The full title of the boo is
LIBER L el LEGIS
s b g ra cc
as deli ered by LXXVIII to DCLXVI
and it is the First and Greatest of those Class A publications
of A . '. A . ' . of which is not to be altered so much as the
style of a letter.

386
 LIBER LEGIS
THE COMMENT1
l
i. Compare II. I, the complement o( this erse.
In Nu is Had concealed; by Had is Nu manifested.
Nu being 56 and Had 9, their con unction results in 65, Adonai, the Holy
Guardian Angel.
See the Sepher Sephiroth and "The Wa e-World” in “Kon Om Pa "
ior further details on 65
Note, howe er, the si ty- e pages of the MS. of Liber Legis.
Or counting NV 56 HAD [0, we get 66, which is (I-II).
Had is further the centre of the Key-Word 406 !!!/‫?ן ש‬
2 This boo is a new re elation, or un eiling of [he holy ones.
3. This should not be understood in the spiritualistic sense, It means that
in each person is the sublime starry nature, a, consciousness to be attained by
the prescribed methods.
[Yet it may mean some real connection between a gi en person and a gi en
star. Why not? Still, this is not in my nowledge. See Lib. 418.
4. The limited is a mere mas ; the illimitable is the only truth.
5. Nu, to un eil herself, needs a mortal intermediary, in the rst instance.
It is to be supposed that An h-f-n- honsu, the warrior lord of Thebes, priest
οι’ Men Tu, is in some subtle manner identical with either Aiwass or the Beast.
6. The recipient of this nowledge is to identify himselfwith Hadit, and thus
fully e press the thoughts of her heart in her ery language.
7. Aiwass—see Introduction. He is 78, Mezla the “ in uence " from the
Highest Crown, and the number of cards in the Tarot, Rota, the all-embracing
Wheel.
Hoor-paar Kraat. See II, 8.
Aiwass is called the minister oi Hoor-paar—Kraat, the God of Silence; for
his word is the Speech in the Silence.

1
Dates in brac ets, gi ing solar position (An o. Θ in ' ? being March 2i,
1904, ψ- ), refer to the time of writing particular parts of this comment.
387
 THE EQUINOX
8.Here begins the te t.
Khabs is the secret Light or L.V,Xt; the Khu is the magical entity
01 3 man.
I nd later (Θ in "!?, An VII.) that Khabs means star. In which case
cf . 3.
The doctrine here taught is that that Light is innermost, essential man,
Intra. (not E tra) Nobis Regnum Dei.
9. That Khabs is declared to be the light of Nu. It being worshipped in
the centre, the light also lls the circumference, so that all is light.
10. This is the rule o( Thelema, that its adapts shall be in isible rulers.
This, it may be remar ed, has always been the case,
11 “The many and the nown,” both among Gods and men, are re ered;
this is folly,
12. The Key of the worship of Nu. The uniting of consciousness with
in nite space by the e ercise of lo e, pastoral or pagan lo e. But with infra.
13. This doctrine implies some mystic bond which I imagine is only to he
understood by e perience; this human ecstasy and that di ine ecstasy interact,
A similar doctrine is to be found in the Bhaga ad Gita.
14. This erse is a direct translation 01 the rst section 01 the st l . It
conceals a certain secret ritual, of the highest ran , connected with the two
pre ious erses.
15. The authority of the Beast rests upon this erse,- but it is to be ta en
in con unction with certain later erses which I shall lea e to the research of
students to interpret. I am inclined, howe er, to belie e that “the Beast " and
“the Scarlet Woman” do not denote persons, but are titles of of ce, that of
Hierophant and High Priestess ) and J), else it would be dif cult to under-
stand the ne t erse.
16. In II. 16 we nd that Had is to be ta en as II (see II. 16, comment).
Then Haditz421, Nuit 466.
421 —3 (the moon) 418.
466 200 (the sun) 666.
These are the two great numbers of the Qabalistic system that enabled me
to interpret the signs leading to this re elation.
The winged secret ame is Hadit ; the stooping starlight is Nuit; these are
their true natures, and their functions in the supreme ritual referred to abo e.
”
17. “ Ye refers to the other worshippers ο Nuit, who must see out their
own election.
18. The serpent is the symbol of di inity and royalty. It is also a symbol
01 Hadit, in o ed upon them.
19 Nuit herself will o ershadow them.
388
 LIBER LEGIS
20. This word is perhaps Abrahadabra, the sacred word of 11 letters.
21. Refers to the actual picture on the st le. Nuit is a conception
immeasurably beyond all men ha e e er thought 01 the Di ine. Thus she is not
the mere star-goddess, but a far higher thing, dimly eiled by that unutterable
glory.
This nowledge is only to be attained by adepts; the outer cannot reach
to it.
22. A promise—not yet ful lled, [Since (G in , An V.) ful lled
A charge to destroy the faculty 01 discriminating between illusions.
23. The chief, then, is he who has destroyed this sense of duality.
24. Nu \: 6 50:56.
25. Di iding ,: ο. 2
0 the circumference, Nuit.
. the centre, Hadit.
1 the Unity proceeding, Ra-Hoor-Khuit.
2 the Coptic H, whose shape closely resembles the Arabic gure 2, the
Breath 01 Life, inspired and e pired. Human consciousness. Thoth.
Adding 50 5 56, Nu, and concentrating 5 6: II, Abrahadabra, etc,
Multiplying ‫ש‬,50 6 300? and Ruach Elohim, the Holy Spirit.
am inclined to belie e that there is a further mystery concealed in this
erse; possibly those 01 418 and 666 again,
26. The prophet demanding a sign 01 his mission, it is promised: a Samadhi
upon the In nite.
This promise was later ful lled—see “The Temple 01 Solomon the King,”
which proposes to deal with the matter in its due season.
27-31. Here is a profound philosophical dogma, in a sense possibly an
e planation and illumination of the propositions in “ Berashith.”
The dyad (or uni erse) is created with little pain in order to ma e the bliss
of dissolution possible. Thus the pain of life may be atoned for by the bliss of
death.
This delight is, howe er, only for the chosen ser ants of Nu. Outsiders may
be loo ed on much as the Cartesians loo ed on animals.
32. The rule and purpose of the Order: the promise 01 Nuit to her chosen.
33. The prophet then demanded instruction : ordeals, rituals, law.
34 The rst demand is refused, or, it may be, is to be communicated by
another means than writing.
[It has since been communicated
The second is partially granted; or, if fully granted, is not to be made
wholly public.
The third is granted unconditionally.
389
 THE EQUINOX
35. De nition of this boo .
36. The rst strict charge not to tamper with a single letter of this
boo .
The comment is to be written “ by the wisdom of Ra-Hoor-Khuit,” i.e. by
open, not by initiated wisdom.
37. An entirely new system of magic is to be learnt and taught, as is now
being done.
38. The usual charge in a wor of this ind.
E ery man has a right to attain ; but it is e ually the duty of the adept to
see that he duly earns his reward, and to test and train his capacity and
strength.
39. Compare Rabelaisi Also it may be translated, “Let Will and Action
be in harmony.”
But α also means Will in the higher sense of Magical One pointedness,
and the sense used by Schopenhauer and Fichte.
in
There is also most probably a ery lofty secret interpretation.
I suggest—
The the essential he, Azoth, etc.:ee
Word Cho mah, Thoth, the Logos, the Second Emanation.
of the Partiti e, Binah the Great Mother.
the Chesed, the paternal power, re ection of the " The " abo e.
Law Geburah, the stern restriction.
is Tiphereth, isible e istence, the balanced harmony of the
worlds.
α The idea embracing all this sentence in a word.
Or—
Θ the ‫מ‬:? the Lion, “Thou shalt unite all these symbols into the form
of a Lion."
Word n the letter of Breath, the Logos
of ? the E uilibrium
;, the ‫?ח‬
418, Abrahadabra.
Law ‫ ?מ‬the Hanged Man, or Redeemer.
a is ‫ ? א‬the 0 (zero, Nuit, which is E istence).
α the sum of all,
40. ???, the Hermit, in isible, yet illuminating. The A:. Α.",
, the Lo er,? isible as is the lightning ash. The College of
Adepts.
α, the Man of Earth, ? the Blasted Tower, The 3 Keys add up to 31
‫ ?א‬Not and ‫ ? א‬Gad. Thus is the whole of‫?שש‬ e ui alent to Nuit, the
all-embracing.
390
 LIBER LEGIS
See the Tarot Trumps for further study of these grades.
96 14, the Pentagram, rule 01 Spirit o er ordered Matter. Strength and
Authority (b and ) and secretly 1 4: 5, the Hierophant L V. Also: , the
Lion and the Ram. CfIsaiah. It is a " millennial ” state.
,38 ‫ \ ן‬the Key-word Abrahadabra, 418, di ided by the number of its?
letters, 11. Justice or Balance and the Charioteer or Mastery. A state of?
progress; the church militant.?
α:4ι, the In erted Pentagram, matter dominating spirit. The
Hanged Man and the Fool. The condition of those who are not adepts.
“Do what thou wilt” need not only be interpreted as licence or e en as
liberty. It may for e ample be ta en to mean Do what thou (Ateh) wilt;
and Ateh is , 1' ‫ \אח‬406? the sign of the cross. The passage might then be
read as a charge to self-sacrifrce or e uilibrium.
I only put forward this suggestion to e hibit the profundity of thought
re uired to deal e en with so plain a passage.
All the meanings are true, if only the interpreter be illuminated ; but if not,
they are all false, e en as he is false.
41, 42. Interference with the will of another is the great sin, for it predicates
the e istence of another. In this duality sorrow consists. I thin that possibly
the higher meaning is still attributed to will.
43. No other shall say ml may mean—
No-other ( Nuit) shall pronounce the word No, uniting the aspirant with
Herself by denying and so destroying that which he is.
44. Recommends “non-attachment." Students will understand how in medi-
tation the mind which attaches itself to hope of success is ust as bound as if it
were to attach itself to some base material idea. It is a bond ; and the aim is
freedom.
I recommend serious study of the word 1551442261/ ”? which appears not ery
intelligible.
45. Perhaps means that adding perfection to perfection results in the unity
and ultimately the Negati ity.
But I thin there is much more than this.
46. 61 .‫ ? ן א‬But the True Nothing of Nuit is 8, 8o, 4I8. Now 8 is n, which
spelt fulIy, ,‫ ?חיח‬15 418. And 418 is Abrahadabra, the word of RarHoor-Khuit.
Now 80 is , ? the letter of RarHoor-Khuit. [Qy. this.
47. Let us, howe er, add the Jewish half l.
8 8o 418 506 (If. erses 24, 25.
506 61 567 27 21 —
But writing 506 abalistically bac wards we get
605, and 605 6 666.
n ! 391
 THE EQUINOX
666 6 111, and 0 ‫ א‬111? 111 Taro
1 2 . . . 36, the sum ofthe numbers in the Magic S uare of
Sol.
the Number of the Beast
Or, ta ing the eys of 8, 80, 418, we get ii., i, ii., adding to 30.
30 6 91 ,‫ א‬:? Amen.
This may unite Nuit with Amoun the negati e and concealed. Yet to my
mind she is the greater conception, that of which Amoun is but a re ection.
48. See abo e for 111.
" My prophet is a fool,” i.e.
my prophet has the highest of all grades, since
the F001 is .‫?א‬
I note later (An V., Θ. ἰ at) that . 48 means that all disappears when 61 8,
80, 418 are reduced to L And this may indicate some practical mystic method
of annihilation, I am sure (Θ ἰπ 2, An VI I.) that this is by no means the perfect
solution of these mar ellous erses.
49. Declares a New System of Magic and initiation
Asar lsa—is now the Candidate, not the Hierophant.
Hoor—see Cap. III.—is the Initiator,
50. Our system of initiation is to be triune.
For the outer, tests of labour, pain, etc.
For the inner, intellectual tests.
For the elect of the A.'. Α:.᾽ spiritual tests.
Further, the Order is not to hold lodges, but to ha e a chain-system,
51. The candidate will be brought through his ordeals in di ers ways.
The Order is to be of reemen and nobles.
52. But distinctions must not be made before Nuit, either intellectually,
morally, or personally.
Metaphysics, too, is intellectual bondage; a oid it
!

Otherwise one falls bac to the Law of Hoor from the perfect emancipation
of Nuitl This is a great mystery, only to be understood by those who ha e fully
attained Nuit and her secret Initiation.
53. The prophet is retained as the lin with the lower.
Again the word “assuage ” used in a sense unintelligible to me.
54, 55, 56 to the word “child."
A prophecy, not yet (May 1909 0.5.) ful lled, so far as I now. I ta e it in
its ob ious sense.
56 from the word “ Αππι”
All religions ha e some truth.
We possess all intellectual truth, and some, not all, mystic truth,
57. In o e me,—etc.——I ta e literally. See Liber NV for this ritual.
392
 LIBER LEGIS
Lo e under will—no casual pagan lo e ; nor lo e under fear, as the Christians
do. But lo e magically directed, and used as a spiritual formula.
The 10015 (not here implying ‫ ?א‬fools, for III,, 57 says, All fools despise) may
mista e.
This lo e, then, should be the serpent lo e, the awa ening of the Kundalini.
The further mystery is of ? and unsuited to the grade in which this comment
is written.
The last paragraph con rms the Tarot attributions as gi en in 777. With
one secret e ception.
58. The Grace of our Lady of the Stars.
59. " Because,” etc. This mystical phrase doubtless refers to some de nite
spiritual e perience connected with the Knowledge of Nuit.
60. Nu:56 and 5 6 1L
The Circle in the Pentagram? See Liber NV.
The uninitiated percei e only dar ness in Night: the wise percei e the
golden stars in the ault of azure.
Concerning that Secret Glory it is not here tting to discourse.
GL Practical and literal, yet it may be doubted whether “to lose all in
that hour” may not refer to the supreme attainment, and that therefore to gi e
one particle of dust (perhaps the Ego, or the central atom Hadit her com-
plement) is the act to achie e.
62, 63. Again practical and literal. Yet the “Secret Temple ” refers also
to a nowledge incommunicable—sa e by e perience.
64. The supreme af rmation.
65. The supreme ad uration.
66. The end.
II
I. Cf . I. As Had, the root 01 Hadit, is the manifestation of Nuit, so Nu,
the root of Nuit, is the hiding of Hadit.
2. Nuit is In nite E tension; Hadit In nite Contraction, Khabs is the
House of Hadit, e en as Nuit is the house of the Khu, and the Khabs is in the
Khu (I. 8). These theologies re ect mystic e periences of In nite Contraction
and E pansion, while philosophically they are the two opposing In nites
whose interplay gi es Finity.
3. A further de elopment 01 higher meaning. In phrasing this erse
suggests an old mystical de nition of God: “He Whose centre is e erywhere
and Whose circumference nowhere.“
4. The circumference 01 Nuit touches Ra—Hoor-Khuit, Kether; but her
centre Hadit is for e er concealed abo e Kethcr. Is not Nu the Hiding of
n ” 393
 THE EQUINOX
Hadit, and Had the Mmzzfesmtiun of Nuit? [I later, O in , An VII., disli e
this note ; and refer the student to Liber XI, and Liber DLV.
5. A reference to certain magical formulae nown to the scribe of this boo .
The puri cation of said rituals is in progress at this time, An V.
6. Hadit is the Ego or Atman in e erything, but of course a loftier and
more secret thing than anything understood by the Hindus. And of course
the distinction between Ego and Ego is illusion. Hence Hadit, who is the life
of all that is, if nown, becomes the death of that indi idualityi
7. Hadit is both the Ma er of Illusion and its destroyer. For though His
interplay with Nuit results in the production of the Finite, yet His withdrawing
into Himself is the destruction thereof.
“ The a le of the wheel," another way of saying that He is the Core of
Things
“The cube in the Circle.” Cf. Liber 418, " The Vision and the Voice,”
30th !Ethyr.
“ Come unto me” is a foolish word; for it is I that
go.
That is, Hadit is e erywhere; yet, being sought, he ies. The Ego cannot
be found, as meditation will show.
8. He is symbolised by Harpocrates, crowned child upon the lotus, whose
shadow is called Silence.
Yet His Silence is the Act of Adoration; not the dumb callousness of
hea en toward man, but the supreme ritual, the Silence of the supreme Orgasm,
the stilling of all Voices in the perfect rapture.
9. Hence we pass naturally and easily to the sublime optimism of Verse 9.
The lie is gi en to pessimism, not by sophistry, but by a direct nowledge.
IO. The prophet who wrote this was at this point angrily unwilling to proceed,
n. He was compelled to do so,
12. For the God was in him, albeit he new it not.
13 For so long as any nower remains, there is no thing nown. Knowledge
is the loss of the Knower in the Known.
“ And me " (not “ and I "), Hadit was the passi e, which could not arise because
of the e istence of the Knower; “ and " implying further the duality—which is
Ignorance.
I4. Enough has been said of the Nature of Hadit, now let a riddle of L.V.X.
be propounded.
15, I am perfect, being Not (31 ‫ ?א‬or 61 yrs).
My number is Nine by the fools (IX. the Hermit 701 and ? )
With the ust I am Eighti VIII., Justice Maat 5, and One in Eight, .‫?א‬
Which is Vital, for I am None indeed, ‫?א‬

The Empress"! III., the King ? IV., are not of me. III. IV. VII.
394
 LIBER LEGIS
16. I am the Empress and the Hierophant (IV.) III. V, VIII., and VIII.
is XL, both because of the 11 letters in Abrahadabra ( 418:n‘ ‫?ח‬
8(, the
Key Word of all this ritual, and because VIII. is not SL, Strength, but Δ, Justice,
in the Tarot (see Tarot Lecture and 777).
17-21. This passage was again ery painful to the prophet, who too it in its
literal sense.
But “the poor and the outcast” are the petty thoughts and the liphothio
thoughts and the sad thoughts. These must be rooted out, or the ecstasy of
Hadit is not in us. They are the weeds in the Garden that star e the
Flower,
22 Hadit now identi es himself with the Kundalini, the central magical
force in man.
This pri ilege of using wine and strange drugs has been con rmed; the
drugs were indeed re ealed.
Follows a curse against the cringing altruism of Christianity, the yielding 01
the self to e ternal impressions, the smothering of the Babe of Bliss beneath the
abby old nurse Con ention.
23. The Atheism 01 God.
“Allah’s the Atheist! He owns
No Allah.” Bagh-i-Muattar.
To admit God is to loo up to God, and so not to be God. The curse of
duality.
24, Hermits see ₪. 15.
Our ascetics en oy, go ern con uer, lo e, and are not to uarrel (but see .
59, o—E en their combats are glorious).
25. The cant 01 democracy condemned. It is useless to pretend that men
are e ual; the facts are against it. And we are not going to stay, dull and
contented as o en, in the ruc of humanity.
26. The Kundalini again. The mystic Union is to be practised both with
Spirit and with Matter.
27. The importance of failing to interpret these erses. Unspirituality leads
us to the bird-lime of Intellect The Haw must not perch on any earthly
bough, but remain poised in the ether.
‫י‬2831 The great Curse pronounced by the Supernals against the Inferiors?
who arise against them.?
Our reasoning faculties are the toils 01 the labyrinth within which we are
all caught. Cf Lib. LXV. V. 59.
32. We ha e insuf cient data on which to reason,
This passage only applies to “rational” criticism of the Things Beyond.
33. We pass from the wandering in the ungle of Reason to
395
 TH Ε EQUINOX
34. The Awa ening.
35. Let us be practical persons, not babblers of gossip and platitude.
36-43. A crescendo of ecstasy in the mere thought of performing these
rituals; which are in preparation under the great guidance of V.V.V.V.V.
44. \Nithout fear re oice; death is only a dissolution, a uniting of Hadit
with Nu, the Ego with the All, with ,‫( ?א‬Note ‫ א‬10‫ ?י‬, 1 Abrahadabra, the
Word of Uniting the 5 and the ᾽)
45. Those without our circle of ecstasy do indeed die. Earth to earth, ashes
to ashes, dust to dust.
46. The prophet was again perple ed and troubled; for in his soul was
Compassion for all beings.
But though this Compassion is a feeling perhaps admirable and necessary
for mortals, yet it pertains to the planes of Illusion.
47. Hadit nows nothing of these things; He is pure ecstasy.
48. Hadit has ne er de led His purity with the Illusions of Sorrow, etc
E en lo e and pity for the fallen is an identi cation with it (sympathy, from
ν α ιν), and therefore a contaminationr
49. Continues the curse against the sla e-soul.
Ami”, This is of the 4, it. should be spelt with 4 letters (the elements),
‫ ?ש מא‬not ‫ ?ןמאי‬The fth, who is in isible, is y, 7o,the Eye. Now ‫ן‬74 ‫ ?ש מא‬70
811 IAO IN GREEK, and [AC is the Gree form of ,‫ ? \ י‬the synthesis
of the 4 elements an-l.
(This ? is perhaps the Ο in N.O.X., Liber VII, I. 40.)
50. E : I. 60.
51. Purple—-the ultra- iolet ( . 51), the most positi e of the colours,
Green—the most negati e of the colours, half-way in the spectrum
The Magical Image of Hadit is therefore an Eye within a coiled serpent,
gleaming red—the spiritual red of ‫ ?ש‬not mere A—at the ape of the Triangle
in the half circle of Nuit’s Body, and shedding spangles as of the spectrum of
eight colours, including the ultra- iolet but not the ultra-red ; and
52. Set abo e a blac Veil.
This erse is ery dif cult for anyone, either with or without morality. For
what men nowadays call “ Vice ” is really irtue— irtus, manliness—and
“ Virtue "—cowardice, hypocrisy, prudery, chastity, and so on are really ices—
itia, aws.
53. But the prophet again disli ed the writing. The God comforted him.
Also he prophesied of his immediate future, which was ful lled, and is still
being ful lled at the time (An V., Θ in 20 ) ?? ofthis writing. E en more mar ed
now (An VII., Θ in 2), especially these words, “I lift thee up."
54. The triumph o er the rationalists predicted.
396
 LIBER LEGIS
The punctuation of this boo was done after its writing; at the time it was
mere hurried scribble from dictation.
See the MS. facsimile.
55. Done. See Liber Trigrammaton, Comment.
56. The God again identi es himself with essential ecstasy. He wants no
re erence, but identity.
57. A uotation from the Apocalypse. This God is not a Redeemer: He
is Himself. You cannot worship Him, or see Him—He is He. And if thou
be He, well.
58. Yet it does not follow that He (and His) must appear oyous. They
may assume the disguise of sorrow.
59. Yet, being indeed in ulnerable, one need not fear for them.
60. Hit out indiscriminately therefore. The ttest will sur i e.
This doctrine is therefore contrary to that of Gallio, or of Buddha.
ι. At the ecstasy of this thought the prophet was rapt away by the God.
First came a new strange light, His herald.
62. Ne t, as Hadit himself, did he now the athletic rapture of Nuit’s
embrace.
53. Each breath, as he drew it in, was an orgasm; each breath, as it went
out, was a new dissolution into death.
Note that throughout these boo s death is always spo en of as a de nite
e perience, a delightful e ent in one’s career.
64. The prophet is now completely swallowed up in the ecstasy. Then he
is hailed by the Gods, and hidden to write on.
65, 66. The di ision of consciousness ha ing re-arisen, and been asserted
the God continues, and prophesies—of that which I cannot comment.
The ecstasy re indles,
67, 68 So iolently that the body of the prophet is nigh death.
69. The prophet's own consciousness re-awa enst He no longer nows
anything at all—then grows the memory of the inspiration past; he as s if it
is all.
[It is e idently his own interpolation in the dictation
70. Also he has the human ieeling of failure. It seems that he must fortify
his nature in many other ways, in order that he may endure the ecstasy
unbearable of mortals.
There is also a charge that other than physical considerations obtain.
71. Yet e cess is the secret of success.
72. There is no end to the Path—death itself crowns all.
73, 74. Yet death is forbidden: wor , suppose, must be done before it is
I

earned; its splendour will increase with the years that it is longed for.
397
 THE EQUINOX
75, 76. A nal re elation. The re ealer to come is perhaps the one
mentioned in l. 55 and III. 47. The erse goes on to urge the prophet to
identify himself with Hadit, to practise the Union with Nu, and to proclaim
this oyful re elation unto men.
77, 78 Though the prophet had in a way at this time identi ed himself with
the number 666, he considered the magic s uare drawn therefrom rather silly
and arti cial, if indeed it had yet been de ised, on which point he is uncertain.
The true S uare is as follows :
[It follows when it is disco ered
!

The House of the Prophet, not named by him, was chosen by him before he
attached any meaning to the number 418; nor had he thought of attaching any
importance to the name of the House. He supposed this passage to be
mystical, or to refer to some future house.
Yet on trial we obtain at once
418 ‫ ש‬1
.79 So mote it be!?

III
I. Abrahadabra—the Reward of Ra—Hoor-Khuit. We ha e already seen
that Abrahadabra is the glyph of the blending of the 5 and the 6, the Rose and
the Cross. So also the Great Wor , the e uilibration of the 5 and the 6, is
shown in this God; efold as a Warrior Horus, si fold as the solar Ra.
Khuit is a name of Khem the Ram-Phallus-two-plume god Amoun; so that
the whole god represents in abalistic symbolism the Second Triad (“whom
all nations of men call the rst").
It is the Red descending Triangle—the sole thing isible. For Hadit and
Nuit are far beyond.
Note that RarHoor ,8 4 ‫? א‬
2. Suggested by a doubt arising in the mind of the prophet as to the
unusual spelling. But the “l” ma es a difference in the abalistic interpreta-
tion of the name.
3—end. This whole boo seems intended to be interpreted literally. It
was so ta en by the scribe at the time.
Yet a mystical meaning is easy to nd. E empli gratia; , 4-9.
. An Island one of the Ca rams or ner e-centres in the spine.
. Fortify it!
our-4;?
Concentrate the mind upon it,
. Pre ent any impressions reaching it.
. :1 will describe a new method of meditation by which
‫א‬

. Ye shall easily suppress in ading thoughts.

398
 LIBER LEGIS
9. May mystically describe this method [agn, Liber HHl—l, Section 3 ,
But the course o( history will determine the sense of the passage.
10. The st l of re ealing—see illustration
That temple; it was arranged as an octagon; its length double its breadth;
entrances on all four uarters of temple; enormous mirrors co ering si of the
eight walls (there were no mirrors in the East and West or in the western hal es
of the South and North sides),
There were an altar and two obelis s in the temple; a lamp abo e the altar;
and other furniture.
Kiblah—any point to which one turns to pray, as Mecca is the Kiblah of the
Mahometan.
“ It shall not fade,” etc, It has not hitherto been practicable to carry out this
command.
II. “Abstruction.” It was thought that this meant to combine abstraction
and construction, i.e. the preparation of a replica, which was done.
Of course the original is in " loc ed glass."
12—15. This, ill-understood at the time, is now too terribly clear. The I5th
erse, apparently an impossible se uel, has usti ed itself,
16. Courage and modesty of thought are necessary to the study of this boo .
Alas! we now so ery little of the meaning.
17. The in nite unity is our refuge, since if our consciousness be in that
unity, we shall care nothing for the friction of its component parts. And our
light is the inmost point of illuminated consciousness.
And the great Red Triangle is as a shield, and its rays are far-darting
arrows!
!8. An end to the humanitarian maw ishness which is destroying the human
race by the deliberate arti cial protection of the un t.
19. 718 is arma;/;,, the abstract noun e ui alent to Perdurabo. (Θ in 3“ ₪,
An VI .)
20. In answer to some mental “Why of the prophet the God gi es this
sneering answer. Yet perhaps therein is contained some ey to enable me one
day to unloc the secret of erse 19, at present (ein 20 TU ,An ν.) obscure. [Now
(Θ in -'- , An VII.) clean
21. This was remar ably ful lled.
22, This rst charge was accomplished; but nothing resulted of a suf ciently
stri ing nature to record.
The Ordeal " X " will be dealt with in pri ate.
23-25. This incense was made; and the prediction most mar ellously
ful lled.
26, 27, 28, 29. These e periments, howe er, were not made.
399
 THE EQUINOX
30. Not yet accomplished (Θ in 20 Ε, An V.)
31. Not yet accomplished (Θ in 20? "F, An ν.).
32, 33. Certainly, when the time comes.
34. This prophecy, relating to centuries to come, does not concern the
present writer at the moment.
Yet he must e pound it.
The Hierarchy of the Egyptians gi es us this genealogy: Isis, Osiris, Horusi
Now the “pagan” period is that of Isis; a pastoral, natural period of simple
magic. Ne t with Buddha, Christ, and others there came in the E uino of
Osiris; when sorrow and death are the principal ob ects of man’s thought, and
his magical formula is that of sacri ce.
Now, with Mohammed perhaps as its forerunner, comes in the E uino
of Horus, the young child who rises strong and con uering (with his twin
Harpocrates) to a enge Osiris, and bring on the age of strength and splendour,
His formula is not yet fully understood.
Following him will arise the E uino of Ma, the Goddess of Justice, it may
be a hundred or ten thousand years from now ; for the Computation of Time is
not here as There.
35. Note Heru-ra-ha 4l8.
36-38. Mostly translations from the ste’l .
39. This is being done; but uic ly? No. I ha e sla ed at the riddles in
this boo for nigh on se en years; and all is not yet clear (Θ in "!') 20 , An V.).
Nor yet (Θ in 2, An VII.).
40. I do not thin it easy. Though the pen has been swift enough, once it
was ta en in hand. May it be that Hadit hath indeed made it secure!
[I am still (An VII., Θ in :), entirely dissatis ed.)
4!. This shall be done as soon as possible.
42. This shall be attended to.
43-45. The two latter erses ha e become useless, so far as regards the
person rst indicated to ll the of ce of “ Scarlet Woman.” In her case the
prophecy of . 43 has been most terribly ful lled, to the letter; e cept the
last paragraph. Perhaps before the publication of this comment the nal
catastrophe will ha e occurred (Θ in 20 "II, An V.). It or an e en more terrible
e ui alent is now in progress (Θ in :, An VII.). [P.S.—I sealed up the MSS.
of this comment and posted it to the printer on my way to the Golf Club at
Hoyla e. On my arri al at the Club, I found a letter awaiting me which
stated that the catastrophe had occurred
Let the ne t upon whom the cloa may fall beware!
46. I do not understand the rst paragraph.
47. These mysteries are inscrutable to me, as stated in the te t. Later
400
 LIBER LEGIS
(Θ in 78, An V.) I note that the letters of the Boo are the letters of the Boo
of Enoch; and are stars, or totems of stars. (See 15th Aire in Lib. 418.) Sc
that he that shall di ine it shall be a Magus, 9:2,
48-62. Appears to be a plain instruction in theology and ethics. I do not
understand “ Din.” Bahlasti 358, and Ompehda perhaps 210.
63. A fact.
64-67. This too shall be pro en to him who will and can.
68. Α fact.
69. I ta e this as a promise that the Law shall duly be established
70-72 A nal pronouncement of His attributes. I do not now the e act
meaning 01 , 71. [Later, Θ in 2, An VII. Yes: I do.
Coph Nia. I cannot trace this anywhere; but KOPhNIA adds to 231
Nia is Ain bac wards; Coph suggests Qoph. All ery unsatisfactory.
73. Done. See illustration. (See Comment on III. 47.)
74. Perhaps refers to the addition of the name to 418. But Khephra is the
Sun at midnight in the North. Now in the North is Taurus, the Bull, Apis
the Redeemer, the Sm.
75. The ending of the words is the ending of the Wor —Abrahadabra
The Boo is written, as we see; and concealed—from our wea understanding
Aum-Ha, ‫ ? א‬,111 ,6 ‫ א‬111 X6 666, the Seal of the Beast. Note well
that ‫ ? א‬with a ? nal adds to 671, Throa, the Gate, Adonai spelt in full, etc.’
etc. Using the Keys of Aum Ha, we get XII.-l-XV.-l-O, and IV.-l—O, their sum,
31 , ‫א‬:? Not.

We defer consideration 01 the se uel to this re elation,

and our account of Fra. P.’s further progress, until the ne t
chapter. This appointment to the Priesthood constituted
him—e en had he no other claim—a member of the grade of
E empt Adept; it was a long and terrible ourney of death
thence to rebirth as a Babe of the Abyss, and to the nal
chapter of our wor , which must describe his attainment 01
the Grade of Master of the Temple.

400 a
MY CRAPULOUS CONTEMPORARIES
NO. V

THE BISMARCK OF BATTERSEA

oz 401
 THE BISMARCK OF BATTERSEA
DANTE perhaps thought when he descended the fth round
of Hell that there was some consolation in the fact that he
was getting near the bottom. To us, as we e plore the
glories of Edwardian literature, such consolation is denied.
Abyss after abyss yawns beneath our feet; deep into the gloom
we peer and our ears are poisoned with the fetid apours of
the ineffable slime—with the callow crapulosities of a Corelli,
the slobbering senilities of a Sims, the unctuous sni ellings
of a Caine.
But we do not propose to descend so far—there is a limit.
But stay! what is that glimmer on yonder ledge? That ledge
where the Brown Dog of the Faddist ghts its eternal battle
with the Yellow Dog of Socialism. The ledge labelled
“ Battersea,” supreme word of malignity in the tongue of the
pit? Our laurelled guide uic ly lowers us thither.
What is that bloated and beery buffoon who stands upon his
head to attract attention? we as . Bismarc , it appears, is his
name. Blood and iron is his motto. ’5 death! but I suspect a
parado . Maybe that by blood he means beer, by iron in .
“Maybe this Nonconformist plum-pudding has been dipped
in whale oil—and why ha e they stuffed it with onions? ” How
shall I nd the ey to this mystery? So portentous a sentence
——and its meaning? “Christianity is only tenable through
Literalism and Ritualism." Not so I read it—and my own
403
 -
THE EQUINOX
secret interpretation sends a guffaw through the blac shining
sides of the prison. With that I awo e; ’twas all a dream; I
must begin again—that opening will ne er do.
Here, therefore, beginneth the third lesson. How shall
we catch the great gray water—rat “That stri es the stars
(sublimi ertice) on Campden Hill? ”
Quoth the famous consort of a famous udge, on being
ad ised to abate the rat nuisance by plugging their holes with
a mi ture of tallow, arsenic, and brown paper: “Yes, but
you’ e got to catch them rst.” So we, accepting her wisdom,
shall not attempt to suppress the News (plain or illustrated)—
we shall rather cope with the stench at its source.
This pot-bellied Publicola must be not only scotched, but
illed. This megalomaniac Menenius must be put through
the medicinal mangle of criticism—a thing which he has
hitherto escaped, for as from the porpoise hides of the portly
Monitor the round shot of the Merrimac rebounded, so has
the oily e asi eness of this literaiy porpoise ser ed to protect
him from his foes, and now he clumsily gambols through the
sea, unaware of the pursuing sword- sh. But a greater than
the sword- sh (or shall I say the Sword-of-Song— sh) is here.
Just as a balloon is dif cult to crush but easy to pric , so
shall it be in these days.
This fellow is simply a trimmer. This seeming porpoise
is only a elly- sh; and the great blac cur es we saw were
but the in iness of the creature.
We draw out this le iathan with an hoo , and he goes
con eniently into a beer—mug. We calculate the mass ο this
brilliant comet, and we nd it is not to e ceed that of a barrel
of butter.
404
 MY CRAPULOUS CONTEMPORARIES
We are appalled by the bellowing of this Bull of Phalaris,
and nd that it is but an ingenious mechanism wor ed by the
gaspings of an emasculate oyster.
Surely ne er in all the history of thought—and its imita-
tions—has such awidow’s cruse supplied the world with such
a deluge of oil. Croton oil.
As a man who orders roast beef and gets hash, so do we
loo for literature and get mi ed dictionaryr How do we do
it? We sti e the groans of our armchair by continued session
and open the Encyclopedia at random. Hullo! what ‘5 this?
" Schopenhauer, famous pessimist philosopher.” (To the
stenographer): ”The splendid optimism of Schopenhauer—"
(Sotto oce) “ Let’s see what a philosopher is! " (turns it up
after a ain search through letter F) “philosopher—lo er of
wisdom," etc.
(To stenographer) “ manifests itself in a positi e loathing of
all wisdom.” (Another turn.)
" Reprehensible—to be condemned.”
(Dictating ”and is therefore to be condemned—n0! no!
please, miss—not to be condemned." (Another turn.)
“ Catamaran ”——a surf—boat used in Madras, hm!—(t0
stenographer)—“ by all Hindoo speculati e mystics.”
(Speculati e mystics—one of our best stoc lines.)
We are now fairly started on our wee ly causerie, the
sub ect being probably Home Rule.
You see, nobody can get hurt. The in ertebrate cannot
maul the ertebrate so we are safe from the chance of their
fury, They pay us to defend the doctrine of original sin—so
we escape by defending it upon the ground that it is “Jolly."
They pay us to attac Free Thought, so we label it “ narrow
405
 THE EQUINOX
sectarianism,” and please the Hard-Shell Baptists—with the
purses—without annoying the Freethin er, who is naturally
not hit.
The Romans cruci ed St. Peter head downwards; but it
was reser ed for this oleaginous clown to offer that last indig-
nity to his Master. We are paid to shore up the rotting but-
tresses of Christianity, and we begin our article, “A casual
carpenter ”—
But, let us change the sub ect
There was a man—a great man—who some years ago
wrote a magni cent philosophical story called the “ Napoleon
of Notting Hill."
More lucid and a thousand times more entertaining than
Bunyan, deeper than Ber eley, as full of ecstasy of laughter
as Rabelais, and of mystic ecstasy as Malory, a boo of the
Chymical Marriage of Christian Rosencreutz with Voltaire.
I thin those summits are not unattainable by the sub ect
of our essay—for God’s sa e, man, forswear sac and li e
cleanly, and gi e us something li e that!
A. QUILLER, JR.

406
 ARTHUR IN THE AREA AGAIN!
Oh, Allah be obeyed!
How internally they played!
I remember that they called themsel es the Waitesi
W. S. Gilbert.

MR. WAITE is at the area door again! It is not altogether

unphilosophical to udge a man by the company he eeps, and
I ha e reluctantly decided to dismiss Mr. Waite. He must
consider himself no longer my disciple. It has been a painful
step, more painful e en than when I was obliged to e pel him
in 1900 from the Hermetic Order of the Golden Dawn. For
he shows himself this last time in a uite impossible a atar
—that of a Satanic colporteur eating rabbit pie in the itchens
of South Ealing.
I ha e before me a “Special Catalogue of Occult Boo s,”
published by a gentleman gi ing the name of Foulsham, which
I hope shortly to see in “ Punch ” under the heading “ MORE
COMMERCIAL CANDOUR.”
Item No. I is a “talisman.“ “ The ey to unloc the
mysteries of the Uni erse.” We hear that “charms and
talismans ensure success." “ This talisman is worn to bring
Health, Happiness, and Success,” a combination which I
regard as remar ably cheap at 45. gd. post free.
But if you ha en’t got 45. 3423., or are less ambitious, you
407
 THE EQUINOX
may still get a Parchment Talisman for wearing on the breast,
from the Great Boo by Rabbi Solomon with sil bag and
cord for 15. 34. There are se eral; one for honour and riches,
one for health, one for “ Success in Hazard (betting—cards—
games of chance)" which loo s to me li e cheating, one for
Success in Trade, and then a set of three to which I call the
particular attention 01 Professor on Krafft—Ebbing and Sir
Charles Mathews They are:
For Man’s Lo e.
For Woman’s Lo e.
For Lo e of Opposite Se .
At the other end the catalogue turns from the psychopath
to the ser ant-girl. All about the mystic meaning of moles,
“lo e signs,” and birthmar s, together with wor s on obstetrics
(home—made), cure of Epilepsy, Worms, falling hair, and con-
sumption, Old Moore’s gazing Crystals, “Ye Witches Fortune—
Telling Cards," and the rest of the rag-bag.
The ham of this e uisite sandwich is Mr. Waite’s “ Boo
of Blac Magic and of Pacts " as was, " Boo of Ceremonial
Magic" as is. But for this [/z'ent le of Mr. Foulsham the title
is simply “The Boo 01 Magic, including Blac Magic, the
rites and mysteries 01 Goethic (sic!) Theurgy, Sorcery, and
Infernal Necromancy." Rather tempting for the people who
wear talismans “ for agricultural prosperity "!
I say fearlessly that this ad ertisement is a crude appeal
to the ilest passions of the most wretched of humanity, to
the people who would really lo e to bewitch their neighbour’s
cow. It is no reply to this charge to point out that the boo
is absolutely harmless. It is sold on the prete t that it is
408
 ARTHUR IN THE AREA AGAIN!
poison: if Locusta cheats her clients she is no less infamous:
rather more.
If Mr. Waite thought to escape my eagle eye by omitting
his name, this note will undecei e him; I repeat that 1 can no
longer consider him as one of my disciples; and if he continues
to adopt my ideas and phrases, and to republish them as his
own, I shall really be obliged to do something hardly dis-
tinguishable from ta ing public notice of the fact.
ALEISTER CROWLEY.

17
409
THE BIG STICK

411
 REVIEWS
THE SECRET TRADITION IN FREEMASONRY. By A. Ε. WAITE. London.
2 ols, 4to. roll. 42;
This is a wor of o er 900 pages, with twenty-eight plates, and numerous
interesting head and tail pieces, sumptuously issued by the publishers, The
author may be masonically usti ed in issuing er [at/mim, from his study chair,
a new and mystic ersion of our old rites, but such, to be 01 alue, must be
grounded upon historic facts, and not upon the nonsense of garbled masonic
histories. In the rst olume the author shows an e traordinary lac of now-
ledge, and hence is unable to his theory of an Inner and Secret Tradition
upon any solid basis, and the olume, with its in ated diction, and troubled
reasoning, is ery unsatisfactory. The second olume is much better, and is
really an interesting study. In both howe er he does not see to hide his con
tempt, often e pressed in uncourteous language, against all who are opposed to
his iews, or otherwise against those degrees from which nothing could be
e tracted to support his theorizing, and the writer of this re iew comes in, with
many better men, for a slating.
In September 1910 my attention was called to a Re iew of my ARCANE
SCHOOLS in the London “ E uino ," in which I nd the following: " It is true
he occasionally refers to people li e Hargrea e Jennings, A. Ε. Waite, and
H. P. Bla ats y as if they were authorities, but whoso shes with a net of so
wide a sweep as brother Yar er’s must e pect to pull in some worthless shi
This accounts for Waite's contempt of him. Imagine Walford Bodie re iewing a
medical boo which referred to him as an authority on paralysis! ” In spite of
this mild castigation he still refers to me with some contempt, and as he has so
little regard for the feelings of others, generally,l may be pardoned for following
suit, I fancy, to say the least, that I am uite as able to udge e idence as Bro.
Waite is; and I may say that for about si ty- e years I ha e made a constant
study of Freemasonry, in my leisure hours, and I concei e that I ha e forgotten
more of real Masonry than Waite e er new, or is e er li ely to now.
In the rst place, he seems to be utterly ignorant of the Jacobite Ecossais-
ism of the Chapter of Clermont, yet it is only in their Pre-grand Lodge Harodim
413
 THE EQUINOX
that he could nd foundation for his theorizing. My iews on this sub ect
occupy about eighty pages, now appearing in “The American Freemason,” Salt
La e, Iowa, and to which I must refer my readers.
He cannot nd what he see s in the Hano erian G. L. of London,—17 7;
or he nds anything in the ritual of that body it will be tri ing, following the
if
religious training of the two clergymen, Anderson and Desaguliers, who founded
it. On the Craft system he ought to ha e directed his attention to the old Yor
ritual, and that of the Ancient Masons, which in that of Yor may date from
1726 (see my “Guild Charges ").
The Royal Arch degree, when it had the “ Vei/: must ha e been the
if
wor , e en by instruction, 01 a Kabalistic Jew about 1740, and from this time
we may e pect to nd a Secret tradition, grafted upon Anderson’s system; the
Arch degree was, undoubtedly, de eloped out of the Knight of the Sword, or
Red Cross, by the Harodim Templars of Clermont, and that out of the operati e
Harodimi
Any stupid assertion, howe er historically untenable, but which is supported
by a large ma ority, is a safe stoc in trade for all such writers as Bro,
Waite; it pays to tic le the palate of the crowd. It would ta e up too much
space to carry this further, but I will as to point out, rst hand, some matters
of general interest.
( , . 4). The A. and A.S. Rite was 710! in ented in America, it was nown
in Gene a se eral years before 1802, when Charleston found out that it was of
33‘, and began to trade upon it. They had, howe er, some years before, the
Marium Rite of 25a founded at Jamaica in 1767, and not 1761-2, hence any-
thing referring to that date is false.
(P. to). Heredem is a French modi cation 01 Hamdim; e en Barruel new
this. It is a term used by the Comicini builders of London, and is still in use
with operati e Lodges hailing from Durham. It was nown to the operati e
Lodges of the Co. of Durham in 1735, when two of them went under the GL.
of Lodon, and may be ages older than that, and identical with the “ Quarter
Masters " of Kelwinning, etc., under the Schau Statutes of 1598 and with the
“Warden Courts” of Scotland and France, e isting in 1622, as Laurie points
out. I can pro ide rst—hand light as to the transliteration of the word into
Heredomus, or Holy House. Many years ago, or about 1870, I was in corre-
spondence with Mr. J. W. Papworth on the sub ect, and he put the uestion to
a ery learned friend whom he new at the British Museum, and who suggested
to him the abo e deri ation. As he re uested that his name should not appear
I sent it to the “Freemason’s Magazine,” under the signature 01 Δ, and it was
at once adopted by Pi e; hence the term “Holy House” is about forty years
old. I may mention that the Du e of Leinster’s “ Prince Mason " of Ireland,
414
 REVIEWS
which is an ampli ed ersion of the London Rosecroi of I770, but ery much
older than that, uses the following words in presenting the Jewel of a Pelican,
“ You are still a Harodim, or Master of the wor men of the Temple,"—a
Clermont ccho, It seems to be e erywhere ept out of sight that the Pelican
feeding its young with its blood was thewar banner of James III when England
was in aded by him in 1715.
(P. 4o). Ramsay did no more in 1737, than put his own gloss on what he
learned in the Chapter of Clermont It is true that in 1754 a change was made
in the “Illustrious Knight " (Templar and Sepulchre), and an additional degree
then added by an un nown de Bonne ille, which may be a Jesuit pseudonym,
which in 1758 became the 25th degree, by adding the system of the Knights
of the East, etc., and later the 32 , and to which some of Ramsay’s iews were
added; he could not ha e been a member of the English GL., but was a Jacobite
Scotch Mason, and according to his own statement, made to his friend Gensau
in 1741, was born in 1680-1681, and not in 1668 as gi en by Waite; such of
these members as were oted Scotch ran by their Lodges, recei ed the Haro-
dim ran of Clermont. Thory says that these Scotch Masons in 1736 had four
Lodges, and in ten years recei ed 5,600 members. Personally, I thin it li ely
that the Clermont claims from the Templars (Albigensian) may be ust from
their own operati e Lodges, Fludd, ratherthan Ashmole, may ha e indoctrin-
ated the London Masons, and I ha e gi en my reasons for this iew in my
American papers.
(P. 295). Waite is mista en in supposing that the Ord" du 2!/‫ ? מ‬was not
established in England. There was a Con ent in 1838 at Li erpool, and its
members’ names are preser ed. The same at London, and Susse ’s consent
was necessary for Reception; Dr. Robert Bigsby was a member of it, as also
of Burnes’ re isal of Deuchar’s Masonic Knight Templar, which forms the basis
of our 1851 ritual, which is not that of Dunc erley who wor ed the Clermont
Templar Kadosh. There was also a Con ent under the Du e of Susse in
India.
(P. 312). In reference to Clermont Waite is oating on his own imaginary
sea. Between 1688 and 1753, Clermont had three well— nown degrees of
Harodim, and in 1754 a fourth was added. He uotes a garbled e tract from
Fratre Kristner, who is reliable, and adds a sneer against me. The Swedish
Rite has nowledge that Count Scheffer was recei ed by Derwentwater; Graf
Von Schmittau; Count Posse, were Recei ed [737, 1743, 1747. But Waite
claims to be the infallible Pope, who is to udge e idence!!!
( . 322). Prince Adept was added to Knight of the Sun at Kingston in
1767, in order that Morin might put in its place, the Prussian Now/tile to gi e
countenance to his frauds.
415
 THE EQUINOX
(P. 409). My iew of HRDM-RSYES, is that, as it now stands, it is the
French Lectures of Clermont’s three grades. I gi e my reasons for this in the
“American Freemasons” papers.
(II, p. !(, This olume, referring as it does, to more recent times, has fewer
errors. It might e en be e tended, and earlier Hermetic details added.
(P. 36). We here read in Waite‘s words of “ lee thing called Co-Mmamy."
[ am not a Cu—Mason myself, but I occasionaly send things to the independent
pri ate uarterly termed “ Co-Mason,” they are usually articles unsuited to the
taste of mentally de cient Masons,or things that better informed Masons desire
to hide. Again the system comes in for sarcasm owing to a supposed af nity
with the Count St. Germain. We may not li e Co-Masonry, for one thing, it
affords less opportunity for the con i ial Mason, who has no room for the
intellectual part; but the system has come to stay, and we may as well treat it
with ci ility.
(P. 92). The reduced Rite of Memphis has ne er been so numerous as to
recei e respect, and Freemasons are too ignorant to understand it, and to attac
it—as in Co—Masonry—may pro e pro table. As a matter of fact, some mista e
was made in America as to the alleged reduction, but Egypt always held to the
re ised system of1862-1866; at this time the Gd. Orient and the Chief of the
Rite re ised the whole system, mainly on an Hermetic basis, and ga e to thirty
three leading ceremonies the power to confer, at inter als, the remaining si ty-
two degrees which are generally added erbally in their relati e places, and
recently I furnished to America the necessary changes in a MS. of 200 pages.
America had the Chapter degrees, I "- 8”, carefully edited, but the higher section
was somewhat chaotic, and in 1872 I did not feel usti ed in ma ing any great
change. Bro. Waite thrice gi es plates of its 90-95? Jewelhthe winged egg—
but without identi cation.
( . 23o). Rite af Swzdenbarg. Of this Kenneth Mac enzie was Grand
Secretary from its introduction till his own death. Bro. Waite is uite mista en
in supposing that he had any hand in compiling the ritual; that and the Charter
are in my hands as they came from Canada; the Charter is in the engrossment
of Colonel Moore, and carries the following names: Colonel W. . . McLeod
Moore, Gd. Master of Templars, and 33 ; T. D. Harrington, Pt.G.M. of the
GL, of Canada, and 33 ; George Canning Langley, 33 ; The two rst names
were 3 3 Masons of the S.G.C. of Canada, then little esteemed, but founded by
the Golden S uare body of London; but Longley and myself were of the
Martin fnneau body, though I ha e se eral 33" Patents of the ‫ ?”!)”ת מ‬Sect.
Founded, as the Rite is, on a ersion of Ancient Masonry, carried bac to a
Feast of the Tabernacles, 5873 Ε., it is most interesting, but too lengthy for
general use; under these circumstances I might feel inclined to print it for
4 6
 REVIEWS
Master Masons, if Freemasonry was an intellectual body, but the needs of
English Freemasonry, that in the best and most elaborate of wor s it is only
wor ing for the printer. The Rite was carried from London to the Americas,
by Samuel Beswic , a Swedenborgian Minister, who wrote a boo on the sub
ect, and he informed me that they had re ected the matter added by Chastannier,
and that what was left was the wor of Swedenborg. Hence Bro. Waite’s
description oftwo secret and unnamed degrees, are of interest at this point.
( . 368). Knight or Fries! 51.54”!/‫ ??)'מ‬I ha e this s eleton ritual of the
Early Grand; and suppose it may be the old 1838 wor of Memphis, of which
Dr. Morison de Green eld was an early member. As I loo upon it the degree
is intended to teach that early Christianity absorbed the mysteries of Eleusis, and
I mention this because I hear from New Yor that an eminent scholar, learned
in Hermetic Gree , is ma ing a translation in which he will pro e that the
Gospels and Epistles are pure Gree of the Eleusinian cult, and that the Jewish
references are added to gi e a Semiti colouring. But I must conclude: I could
ma e a decent sized olume in criticising and contesting Bro. Waite’s boo .
JOHN YARKER, 33 , 90 , 97 .
WEST Dmswrw,
”In/r ι.
SHE BUILDETH HER House, By WILL LEVINGTON COMFORT. J. 15. Lippin-
cott Co.
HEALTH FOR YOUNG AND OLD. By A. T. SCHOFIELD, MD, Rider and
Son. 3r. 6d, net.
KABALA OF NUMBERS. By SEPHARIAL. Rider and Son. 2:. nec.
BYWAYS OF GHOSTLAND. By ELLIOT O’DONNELL. Rider and Son. 33.612.
net.
IN THE GRIP OF THE WHITE SLAVE TRADER. M, A. P. Gd. net.
CONTEMPORARY BELGIAN POETRY. Walter Scott Publishing Co. 1:,

Tm; LAIR OF THE WHITE WORM. By BRAM STOKER. Rider and Son. 6:.
A BED OF ROSEs.
THE SECRET TRADITION OF FREEMASONRY. By A. Ε WAITE.
My pre ious remar calls for no modi cation.
MARECHAL DE CAMBRONNE.
6 417
 A BIRTHDAY
Aug. 10,1911.
FULL moon to-night; and si and twenty years
Since my full moon rst bro e from angel spheres!
A year of in nite lo e unwearying—
No circling seasons, but perennial spring!
A year ο triumph trampling through defeat,
The rst made holy and the last made sweet
By this same lo e; a year of wealth and woe,
Joy, po erty, health, sic ness—all one glow
In the pure light that lled our rmament
Of supreme silence and unbarred e tent,
Wherein one sacrament was ours, one Lord,
One resurrection, one recurrent chord,
One incarnation, one descending do e,
All these being one, and that one being Lo e!

You sent your spirit into tunes; my soul

Yearned in a thousand melodies to enscroll
Its happiness: I left no ower unpluc ed
That might ha e graced your garland. I induct
Tragedy, comedy, farce, fable, song,
Each longing a little, each a little long,
But each aspiring only to e press
Your e cellence and my unworthiness—
419
 THE EQUINOX
Nay! but my worthiness, since I was sense
And spirit too 01 that same e cellence

So thus we sol ed the earth’s re ol ing riddle:

I could write erse, and you could play the ddle,
While, :15 for lo e, the sun went through the signs,
And not a star but told him how lo e twines
A wreath for e ery decanate, degree,
Minute and second, lin ed eternally
In chains 01 owers that ne er fading are,
Each one as sempiternal as a star.

Let me go bac to your last birthday‘ Then

I was already your one man of men
Appointed to complete you, and ful l
From e erlasting the eternal will.
We lay within the ood 01 crimson light
In my own balcony that August night,
And con uring the aright and the a erse
Created yet another uni erse.

We wor ed together; dance and rite and spell

Arouslng hea en and constraining hell.
We li ed together; e ery hour 01 rest
Was honied from your tiger—lily breast.
VVe———oh what lingering doubt or fear betrayed

My life to fate?—we parted. Was I afraid?

I was afraid, afraid to li e my lo e,
Afraid you played the serpent, I the do e,
Afraid 01 what I now not. I am glad
420
 A BIRTHDAY
Of all the shame and wretchedness I had,
Since those si wee s ha e taught me not to doubt you,
And also that I cannot li e without you.

Then I came bac to you; blac treasons rear

Their heads, blind hates, deaf agonies of fear,
Cruelty, cowardice, falsehood, bro en pledges,
The temple soiled with senseless sacrileges,
Sic ness and po erty, a thousand e ils,
Concerted malice of a million de ils ;—
You ne er swer ed; your high—pooped galleon
Went mar ellously, ma estically on
Full-sailed, while e ery other bra er bar
Dro e on the roc s, or foundered in the dar .

Then Easter, and the days of all delight!

God’s sun lit noontide and his moon midnight,
While abo e all, true centre of our world,
True source of light, our great lo e passion-pearled
Ga e all its life and splendour to the sea
Abo e whose tides stood our stability.

Then, sudden and erce, no monitory moan,

Smote the mad mischief of the great cyclone.
How far below us all its fury rolled!
How ainly sulphur tries to tarnish gold!
'We li ed together: all its malice meant
Nothing but freedom of a continent!
It was the forest and the ri er that new
The fact that one and one do not ma e two.
421
 THE EQUINOX
We wor ed, we wal ed, we slept, we were at ease,
We cried, we uarrelled; all the roc s and trees
For twenty miles could tell how lo ers played,
And we could count a iss for e ery glade.
Worry, star ation, illness and distress?
Each moment was a mine of happiness.
Then we grew tired of being country mice,
Came up to Paris, li ed our sacri ce
There, gi ing holy berries to the moon,
July’s than sgi ing for the oys of June.
And you are gone away—and how shall I
Ma e August sing the raptures of July?
And you are gone away—what e il star
Ma es you so competent and popular?
How ha e I raised this harpy—hag of Hell’s
Malice—that you are wanted somewhere else?
I wish you were li e me a man forbid,
Banned, outcast, nice society well rid
Of the pair of us—then who would interfere
With us?—my darling, you would now be here!
But nol we must ght on, win through, succeed,
Earn the grudged praise that ne er comes to meed,
Lash dogs to ennel, trample sna es, put bit
In the mule-mouths that ha e such need of it,
Until the world there’s so much to forgi e in
Becomes a little possible to li e in.
God alone nows if battle or surrender
Be the true courage; either has its splendour.
422
 A BIRTHDAY

But since we chose the rst, God aid the right,

And damn me if I fail you in the ght!
God oin again the ways that 116 apart,
And bless the lo e of loyal heart to heart!
God eep us e ery hour in e ery thought,
And bring the essel of our lo e to port!

These are my birthday wishes. Dawn’s at hand,

And you’re an e ile in a lonely land.
But what were magic if it could not gi e
My thought enough itality to li e?
Do not then dream this night has been a loss!
All night I ha e hung, a god, upon the cross;
All night I ha e offered incense at the shrine;
All night you ha e been unutterably mine,
Mine in the memory of the rst wild hour
When my rough grasp tore the unwilling ower
From your closed garden, mine in e ery mood,
In e ery tense, in e ery attitude,
In e ery possibility, still mine
While the sun’s pomp and pageant, sign to sign,
Stately proceeded, mine not only so
In the glamour of memory and austral glow
Of ardour, but by image of my brow
Stronger than sense, you are e en here and now
Mine, utterly mine, my sister and my wife,
Mother of my children, mistress of my life!

Ο wild swan winging through the morning mist!

The thousand thousand isses that we issed,
423
 THE EQUINOX
The in nite de ice our lo e de ised
If by some chance its truth might be surprised,
Are these all past? Are these to come? Belie e me,
There is no parting; they can ne er lea e me.
I ha e built you up into my heart and brain
So fast that we can ne er part again.
Why should I sing you these fantastic psalms
When all the time I ha e you in my arms?
Why? 'tis the murmur of our lo e that swells
Earth’s dithyrambs and ocean‘s oracles.

But this is dawn; my soul shall ma e its nest

Where your sighs swing from rapture into rest
Lo e’s thurible, your tiger-lily breast.
ALEISTER CROWLEY.

424
 zit,“ Θ
THE WINGED BEETLE
By ALEISTER CROWLEY
PRIVATELY PRINTED: TO Ε ΗΑ ) THROUGH “THE EQUINOX”

300 copies, Ios. net

50 copies on handmade paper, specially bound, , IS. net
.w—
CONTENTS
ROSA Coeli—Ab ad-i-al’ain—The Hermit— The Wizard Way—The
Wings— The Garden of Janus—The Two Secrets—The Priestess of
Panormita—The Haw and the Babe—The Duellists—Athor and Asar
After Judgment—The Fi e AdorationsaTelepathy—The Swimmer
-—The Muse—The God and the Girl—Rosemary—Au Bel—Dis
appointment—The Octopus—The Eyes of Dorothy—Bathyllus—The
Mantra Yogi—The Poet and his MusewLilith—Sport and Marriage—
The Twins—The Con ert—The Sorceress—The Child-Clyde—
A Slim Gilt Soul—The Silence of Columbine—The Archaeologist
—The Ladder—Belladona—ThePoet at Bay—Ut—Rosa Decidua—
The Circle and the Point—In MemoriamiAd Fidelem Infldelem—
The Sphin —The Jew of Fez—The Pentagram—Song—An Hymn
Prologus to Rodin in Rims—The Camp Fire—A e Adonai—The
Wild Ass—The Opium-Smo er—In Manu Domin .
Mr Todd a Morality.
:

TRANSLATIONS L’Amour et le Cr ne—L'Alchimie de Douleur—Le

:

Vampire—Le Balcon— Le Gout de L’In ni—L’H autontimoroumenos

——Le in de L'Assassin—Woman—Tout Enti re—Le in des Amants
—Le Re enant—Lola de Valence——Le Beau Na ire—L’In itation au
Voyag —Epilogue to “Petits Po mes en Prose'L—Collo ue Senti-
mental—En Sourdine—The Magician.
VII
The Star in the West
BY

CAPTAIN J. F. C. FULLER

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and stolen wills; they are now only
e cited by spiritual crises, catastrophes
of the reason, triumphs of the intelli-
gence. In these elds Captain Fuller
is a master dramatist.
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 Household Gods
A COMEDY
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BOOK FOUR
A TREATISE ON MAGIC AND MYSTICISM
FOR BEGINNERS
BY

Frater Perdurabo
AND

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AHA! Reprinted from E uino III.

SIR PALAMEDE THE SARACEN
Reprinted from E uino IV.
LITTLE POEMS IN PROSE
BY CHARLES BAUDELAIRE
Translated by ALEISTER CROWLEY

ERCIL DOUNE
A No el b ALEISTER CROWLEY
NOW READY
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HAIL ;

ALEISTE’R CROWLEY
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bounds of Oath ’ ll: his erses with uaint
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physical’ posts of the 39m‫ ?!י"מ‬century, Indeed, in
turning o er the pageant ' 5 me little olume was
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V

& Oates, we feel them to wor of & recipient of the

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Crashaw, although π to no smooth where they are
‘

rugged, plain where

“These po ms indicate a. mind full et earnest aspiration
towards his spiritual Queen, a, mind of an engaging rumour
“troubled by the religious and philosophical problemswhioh
weary more comple intelligences. This little wor can M
cordially recommended to Catholic readers."

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