No sooner was he finished than Eisik grabbed me by the shoulders excitedly. ‘If you will forgive an old Jew, my son, but you have dreamed of the marriage . . . the marriage!’
‘The marriage?’
‘In the secret tradition of my forefathers the mystery is called ‘Shekinah’. The mystery of man and God, and the relation between things above and things below, of the intercourse of earth and spirit.’ He looked upwards in a heavenly direction, his features taking on a peaceful expression, and at this moment I saw that when he was not contemplating disaster, he was indeed younger than he appeared. ‘But this is a celestial union ,’ he continued, ‘not a physical one, my son.’
‘Of course!’ my master vociferated.
‘The great work of the alchemists,’ Eisik continued. ‘She is one time the daughter of the king, another time she is described as the betrothed as in the Song of Solomon, the bride and also the mother, or the sister. She is the beloved who ascends towards the heavenly spouse. This is called the final work!’
‘This is precisely what Asa said the two brothers were discussing at the chapel, before Samuel died . . . the final conclusion . . .’ my master added, his eyebrows working furiously.
‘But why did I have such a dream?’ I asked because now it seemed that my dream had become more important than my sin.
‘I will tell you that you have had a vision,’ Eisik beamed proudly. ‘A vision . . . and why? We are told that when one is worthy one receives Ruach as a gift of grace. This is the crown of Nephesh, and leads to illumination of the spirit by the light from superior regions. This allows one to discern the laws of the secret king.’
‘There have been other dreams,’ I said, almost in a whisper.
‘Others?’ Eisik queried.
‘We have no time for dreams now, Christian,’ my master said in an annoyed fashion because I knew he preferred to ignore the illogical direction our conversation had taken.
He perused things on the table and paused before a large manuscript on an elaborate lectern. Feeling better now for having unburdened my sin, I accompanied him, and seeing the intrigued look on his face, moved closer to get a better look. Inside I saw the most curious symbols. A triangle apex down, a triangle apex up, circles with crosses, crosses with circles. Also a beautiful vignette depicting, what we now came to expect, a cross with a circlet of roses at its centre, and the words Dat Rosa Mel Apibus or the Rose Gives the Bees Honey. To the right side of the cross a bee, its wings dipped in gold, and four beehives. To the left two spider webs within a wooden frame.
‘Wisdom and industry,’ Eisik said, moving closer, ‘it is also a marriage. The union of calm waters of wisdom with the fire of industry. The union of soul and spirit.’
‘We see this cross with roses everywhere,’ my master said. ‘It is on the east door of the church, on a window and on the cover of the book of life in the chapter room,’ he remarked, picking up the thick manuscript and turning over its fragile pages to reveal beautiful illuminations. Strange animals became transformed, or rather fused into the flourishes, hairlines, and hooks of gigantic letters. The margins, too, were filled with mysterious necromantic images and biblical quotes.
‘Tabula Hermedis!’ my master read.
Eisik blanched, and his eyes seemed to enlarge, while his mouth gaped open.
My master continued, ‘In profundo Mercurii est Sulphur, quod tandem vincit frigitatem ...’
‘No!’ cried Eisik, placing both hands over his ears. When my master paused Eisik tore the book from my master’s hands, and opening it himself read with tears in his eyes, ‘What further miracles do they have stored here?’
But it was I who, having found a some parchments showed them to my master and caused by way of it, the greatest commotion.
‘In the fine airs of heaven, was written the Eternal Gospel, and the Gospel was with God and Gospel was God. All things were written therein and without it there was not a thing written that was written. It speaks of the life, the life that is the light of men. This light that shines into darkness and is not understood by men is Christ, the true light, which enlightens every man. Christ came into the world and Christ is the Gospel and the Gospel was made by Him. But the world has understood it not.’
My master looked at me, ‘This is written in Langue’doc . . .’
‘The language of the Cathars, the heretics?’ I said aghast.
My master was then overtaken by an intellectual ecstasy. ‘This is extraordinary! This is remarkable!’ He seized me by the shoulders. ‘Do you know what you have found my little goose? You have found the eternal gospel!’