At the stroke of midnight, in the vestibule leading to the great hall of the mysteries, Julian flung off his novice's robe. The sacrificial mystagogues, initiators into the pagan ceremonial, then clothed him anew in their own priestly tunic, woven of threads of papyrus. A palm-branch was put into his hand, and his feet were left bare. He was then led up a long low hall, the vaults of which were supported by a double row of bronze Corinthian columns. Each column, formed of two serpents entwined, bore two incense-burners on lofty and slender branching stands, whence rose thin tongues of flame. Dense vapour filled the hall. At its end glittered two winged golden bulls, propping a splendid throne, on which was seated, arrayed in a long black tunic powdered thick with emeralds and carbuncles, and in demeanour like a god, the greatest hierophant of all, Maximus of Ephesus.
The slow reverberant voice of a temple slave announced the opening of the mysteries—
"If any impious, or Christian, or Epicurean be present in this assembly, let him go forth!"
Instructed in advance as to the necessary responses, Julian pronounced the words—
"Let the Christians go forth!"
The choir of temple slaves, hidden in obscurity, took up the burden—
"To the doors! To the doors! Let the Christians go forth! Let the impious go forth!"
Then twenty-four lads, entirely naked, each holding a silver sistrum, like a crescent-moon, came forth from the shadow. In perfect unison they raised the vibrating instruments above their heads, and with one graceful gesture struck the resonant strings, which gave forth a long and plaintive note. Maximus made a sign.
Someone tightly bandaged Julian's eyes from behind and said to him earnestly—
"Go forward! Fear neither Water, Fire, Spirits; nor Bodies, nor Life, nor Death."
He felt himself dragged forward; an iron door opened on creaking hinges. He was pushed through it; a stifling atmosphere beat on his face while his feet groped down slippery and twisted steps. Feeling his way down this endless stair, amidst sepulchral silence, it seemed at last that he must be a great distance underground. He proceeded along a narrow passage—so narrow that his hands, held stiffly to his sides, rubbed along the walls. Suddenly his bare feet struck moisture; he heard water flowing; a stream covered his ankles. He kept on, but at every step the water rose, reaching first his calves, then his knees, and finally his loins. His teeth began to chatter with cold. The flood rose breast high. He wondered—
"Perhaps this is a trap; it is some device of Maximus for killing me, to do the Emperor pleasure."
But he held stoutly on, forging slowly through the water. Finally it seemed to lessen, till at last it completely ebbed away. A suffocating heat, as from the mouth of a furnace, gradually enveloped him, so that the ground scorched his feet. Julian thought he must be walking straight into an oven; blood throbbed in his temples; sometimes the heat was so intense that itlicked his cheek like a flame. But the lad never wavered.
In its turn the heat diminished. But sickening odours next choked his breath. Time after time he stumbled against round objects, and recognised bones and dead men's skulls.
Suddenly he felt someone walking by his side, gliding along noiselessly like a shadow; an ice-cold hand seized his own. He uttered an involuntary cry. Two hands were gently pulling at his clothes, the fleshless bones piercing their withered skin. The grip of these hands became playful movements, repulsive caresses like those of debauched women. Julian felt a breath on his cheek tainted with fusty rottenness and moisture, and then became aware of a rapid murmur at his ear, like the rustle of leaves on a night in autumn—
"It is I! It is I!—I!—do you not know me again? It is I!—I!"
"And who, who art thou?" stammered Julian. But immediately he recollected his promise of absolute silence.
"It is I! Shall I strip the bandage from your eyes so that you may know me again, may meet me again?" And the bony fingers, with the same hideous eagerness, fluttered over his face as if seeking to drag off the bandage.
A deadly chill penetrated Julian to the heart, and, through habit, he thrice crossed himself involuntarily, as in childhood at some bad dream.
A clap of thunder! The ground heaved under his feet! He felt himself falling into the unknown; and lost consciousness.
When he regained his senses he was no longer blindfold but lay on cushions in a huge twilit grotto. Acloth, soaked in penetrating perfumes, was being held to his nostrils. Opposite Julian stood a lean man with a coppery skin; it was the gymnosophist—the naked sage—assistant of Maximus.
He was holding high above his head a motionless metallic disc. A voice said to Julian. "Look!" Julian gazed at the dazzling circle. Its brilliancy was almost painful to the eyes. Looking at it fixedly and long, gradually all things melted and lost their sharper outline. A pleasant weakness breathed through his being. The luminous disc no longer shone in the void, but in his own mind; his eyelids descended; a sleepy smile of weariness played upon his submissive lips. He felt a hand stroking his head, and a voice asked—
"Are you asleep?"
"Yes...."
"Look me in the eyes!"
Julian obeyed with effort and perceived Maximus stooping over him.
He was a man of about seventy years old, bearded to the girdle. Thick hair, with a yellow glitter in it, fell thick over his shoulders. Deep wrinkles, furrowed by thought and will, and not by suffering, marked cheek and brow. His smile was like the smile of women who are at once witty, mendacious, and enchanting. But it was the eyes of Maximus that gave Julian most pleasure. Under thick eyebrows they shone mocking, and tender, yet piercing to the quick.
Maximus asked—"Do you wish to see the most famous of the Titans?"
"Yes."
"Watch then."
The magician pointed to the depth of the cave wherestood a tripod of Corinthian bronze, vomiting smoke. A tempestuous noise filled the cavern—
"Hercules! Hercules! Deliver me!"
The smoke vanished; blue sky appeared. Julian lay stretched motionless and pale, watching through half-shut eyelids the rapid visions unfolded before him. It was as if someone commanded him to see them. He beheld clouds and snow-clad mountains, and heard the breaking of distant waves. Slowly he perceived an enormous body, chained hand and foot to crags. A kite was devouring the liver of the Titan, drops of black blood trickled down his side; the great chains rattled, and the whole body shuddered with pain.
"Deliver me, Hercules!"
And the Titan raised his shaggy head; his eyes met those of the youth entranced—
"Who art thou? Whom dost thou summon?" asked Julian, speaking heavily in his dream.
"I call on thee!"
"I am but a mortal, and helpless."
"Thou art my brother; set me free!"
"Who has chained thee up anew?"
"The humble, the gentle,—who through cowardice forgive their enemies. Slaves! slaves!... O deliver me!"
"How can I deliver thee?"
"Be even as I am."
The smoke of the tripod obscured the apparition. Julian woke for a moment and the great hierophant, the teacher of rites, asked—
"Do you wish to see the ruined Archangel?"
"Yes."
"Behold him!"
In the white smoke appeared faintly a head betweentwo gigantic wings. The feathers of the wings swept out, drooping like branches of yew, and a bluish tint as of some lost sky trembled upon the melancholy plumes.
Someone cried to Julian from afar off—
"Julian! Julian! Deny the Galilean in my name!"
Julian held his peace.
Maximus muttered at his ear—
"If you wish to see the great Angel you must make this renunciation."
And Julian pronounced the words—
"I deny Him!"
Above the head of the apparition suddenly glittered the morning star—the star of dawn—and the Angel repeated—
"Julian, deny the Galilean in my name!"
A third time the Angel repeated,—and his voice sounded exultant and close by: "Renounce Him!"
And Julian answered—
"I renounce Him!"
The Angel said—
"Thou mayest approach."
"Who art thou?"
"I am Lucifer, I am Light, I am the East, I am the Morning Star!"
"How beautiful thou art!"
"Be thou as I am."
"What melancholy dwells in thine eyes!"
"I suffer for all living. Birth must cease, death must cease. Come to me; I am the Shadow, I am Repose, I am Liberty."
"How art thou named among men?"
"Evil."
"Thou?"
"Yes. I turned in revolt."
"Against whom?"
"Against Him whose peer I am. He willed to be alone, but we are two, and equals."
"Make me in thine image!"
"Revolt also! I will give thee the thews for rebellion."
"Teach me!"
"Violate the law, love thyself, curse Him, and be as I am!"
The Angel disappeared; the wind in circling gusts rekindled the flame on the tripod. The flame blew over the brim of the vessel and ran along the ground. The tripod itself was overset, and the flame went out. In the darkness came a rushing noise of numberless steps, with cries and groanings, as if an invisible army, fleeing before an enemy, were in passage through the cave. Julian, in terror, fell face downward to the earth, while the long black robe of the hierophant, stretched over him, struggled with the wind.
"Flee, flee!" groaned indistinct voices. "The gates of Hell are opening; it is He, He, the Conqueror!"
The wind hissed in Julian's ears; legions upon legions seemed passing over him; suddenly there fell a dead calm; a heavenly breath filled the vast cavern and a voice murmured—
"Saul, Saul, why persecutest thou me?"
It seemed to Julian that he had heard that voice before, in some far time of childhood. Gently it came again—
"Saul, Saul, why persecutest thou me?"
And the sound faded away into the distance, so that there came at last but an imperceptible whisper: "Why, why, persecutest thou me?"
When Julian awoke and raised his prostrate face he saw one of the initiating priests lighting a lamp. He felt giddy, but remembered exactly everything that had taken place. His eyes were blindfolded and, strengthened with spiced wine, he was enabled to climb the staircase, his hand gripped this time by the strong hand of Maximus. He felt as if an invisible force was lifting him on wings. The teacher of rites said to the lad—
"Now ask what you will!"
"Did you summon Him?" inquired Julian.
"No. But when one chord of the lyre vibrates, another chord responds. Opposite answers opposite."
"Why is there such potency in His words if His words are only lies?"
"His words are truth."
"What do you mean? Then it is the Titan and the Angel who lied?"
"They also are the truth."
"Do you mean that there are two truths?"
"Two truths."
"Ah! You are tempting me!..."
"Not I, but the wholeness of the truth. If you are afraid, be silent."
"I am afraid of nothing. Say on; tell all! Are the Galileans right?"
"Yes."
"Why then should I have renounced them?"
"There is, beside theirs, another truth."
"One higher?"
"No, equal."
"But in what is one to believe? Where is the God whom I seek?"
"Both here and yonder. Serve Ahriman,—serveOrmuzd, whichever pleases you! But forget not that both are equal,—the kingdom of Lucifer and the kingdom of God."
"Which way should I choose?"
"Choose one of the two roads, and halt no more!"
"But which?"
"If you believe in Him, take up the cross. Follow Him according to His command; be humble, chaste. Be the lamb that was dumb between the hands of the shearers. Flee into the desert for salvation; give Him body, soul, and reason! Believe!... that is one way. And the Galilean martyrs attain the same liberty that Prometheus and Lucifer have attained."
"That way I cannot choose."
"Choose then the other path. Be puissant as your ancestors of old, the heroes—proud, pitiless, and haughty. No compassion! No love! No pardon! Arise and conquer all things! Let your body become hard as marble out of which the demigods are hewn! Take and give not! Taste of the forbidden fruit and repent not! Believe not, doubt not, and the world shall be thine! Thou shalt be the Titan—an angel revolted against God."
"But I can never forget that the words of the Galilean contain truth also. I cannot admit two beliefs."
"Then thou shalt be like all common mortals and hadst better never been born; but thou canst choose. Make the venture!... Thou shalt be emperor!"
"I? Emperor?"
"Thou shalt have between thy hands what Alexander never had."
Julian felt that they were issuing from the bowels of the earth, felt the morning sea-breeze bathing him. The hierophant unknotted the bandage over his eyes,and lo! they were standing on a high marble tower, the astronomical observatory of the great seer, built after the model of the ancient Chaldean towers, but upon a crag above the sea. Below stretched luxurious gardens, palaces, and cloisters, recalling the colonnades of Persepolis. In the distance the Artemision and Ephesus stood in clear relief against the mountains over which the sun was about to rise.
Julian's head almost gave way at the extent of the view; he had to lean upon the arm of Maximus; but then with a smile the youth closed his eyes, and the beams of the rising sun flushed his white vestments with rose-colour. The seer stretched out his arm.
"Behold! all this is thine!"
"Can I sustain it, Master? Assassination may strike me at any moment. I am weak and ill."
"The sun, the god Mithra, is crowning you with his purples—the purple of the Roman Empire. All this is thine. Dare!"
"And what is it all to me, since truth unified does not exist, and since I cannot find the God for whom I seek?"
"Ah! if thou canst make one the truth of the Titan and the truth of the Galilean, thou wilt be greater than any that have been born of women!..."
Maximus of Ephesus was the owner of marvellous libraries, quiet marble chambers, and spacious anatomical laboratories crowded with scientific apparatus. In one of the latter the young physicist, Oribazius, a doctor of the school of Alexandria, was vivisecting, scalpel in hand, a rare animal sent to Maximus from the Indies. The hall was circular and the walls loaded with rows of tin vessels, chafing dishes, retorts, apparatuslike that of Archimedes, and fire machines like those of Ktesius and Geron. In the silence of the adjoining library drop after drop fell plashing from the water-clock, an invention of Apollonius. Globes were there also, geographical charts in metal, and models of the celestial spheres wrought by Hipparchus and Eratosthenes.
In the clear and serene light falling through the glass ceiling, Maximus, clothed as a simple philosopher, was scrutinising the still-warm organs of the animal laid on the marble. Oribazius stooping over the liver of the animal was saying—
"How can Maximus, the great philosopher, believe in these ridiculous miracles?"
"I believe in them and I believe in them not," answered the magian. "This Nature which you and I are studying, is not she most miraculous? Are not these blood-vessels, this nervous system, the admirable combination of organs which we are examining like augurs—are not these the most splendid of mysteries?"
"You know my meaning," interrupted the young doctor. "Why have you deceived this young man?"
"Julian?"
"Yes."
"He himself desired to be deceived."
The brows of Oribazius knitted into a frown.
"Master, if you love me, tell me who you are. How can you endure lies like these? Do I not understand what magic means? You attach luminous fish-scales to the ceiling of a darkened chamber, and the pupil to be initiated believes that the skies are descending on him at the word of the hierophant. You manufacture with skin and wax a death's head, into which you fit a stork's neck; and through it you pronounce yourpredictions from beneath the floor. The pupil imagines that the skull uncurtains to him the secrets of the tomb; and when it is necessary that the head should vanish, you bring a chafing dish near it, the wax melts and the skull collapses. By skilful rays of coloured light playing on odorous smoke, you make the innocent believe that they have verily seen the gods! You display under water in a basin, of which the walls are stone and the bottom glass, a living Apollo (acted by an obliging slave), while some vulgar prostitute is played off as Aphrodite. This—this, you call the holy mysteries!"
His habitual equivocal smile wandered over the compressed lips of the teacher, who answered—
"Ah! our mysteries are deeper and finer than you suppose. Men have absolute need of enthusiasm. For him who has faith the harlot is Aphrodite really, and the luminous scales are the stars of heaven. You say that people weep and pray before semblances produced by a lamp and coloured glasses? Oribazius, Oribazius!... but this Nature which makes your science marvel, is she not herself a mirage, produced by senses as deceptive as the wizard's lantern? Wherein does truth consist? Where does falsehood begin? You believe and you know, and I neither wish to believe nor am skilled to know. Truth dwells for me in the same shrine as falsehood."
"Would Julian thank you, if he knew that you were deceiving him?"
"He saw what he desired to see. I have given him enthusiasm, strength, and audacity. You say that I have deceived him. If that had been necessary I would have done so—I would have tempted him. I love the falsehood that contains a truth. I lovetemptation. Till I die I will never abandon Julian and shall allow him to taste all forbidden fruits. He is young; I shall live on a second life in him. I will unveil for him the mystery and charm even of crime; and perhaps through me he shall become great!"
"Master, I do not understand you."
"And that is precisely why I speak thus to you," responded Maximus, fixing on Oribazius his penetrating and impassive eyes.