A Maggot - John Fowles (48 page)

Q. Speak on.

A. Then was it as I walked in Paradise, in life
eternal and happiness everlasting, out of this cruel world and all
its evil, out of my own most miserable sins and vanity, for which now
I conceived I was about to be forgiven. I walked in a sea of light,
all was light, I knew no shadow in my soul; and as I went towards
these three, it seemed no ordinary passing of time, of one far more
slow, like to the motions of a dream. Then did I see the old man
raise an arm and pluck a fruit hung on a branch above his head, that
he held out to she the mother, and she took it from him, and held for
me to take as I came. Not as that great grace it was, more simple
present, that I might eat; which I did crave with all my soul. Yet
tho' l would hasten my step to take it, I could not; and it came to
me that he who stood with the scythe was son to the aged man, and she
also of a smiting likeness, they were of one family. Then it was when
first some tongue, some utmost joyous tongue, did stir in my mind,
that I knew who these three truly were. Master Ayscough, I speak of
it to thee more plain now than it was to me at this first, when it
was but a trembling, a suspicion, a whisper, I know not, of what was
to come. Still I was as thee, I must doubt all the most strange
circumstance in which this had place. Thee must know I was brought up
Quaker, never to think so of divinity, as in bodies or breathing
persons, but of their spirit alone and their light inside of me. For
the Friends say, There is no true spirit in image, and no image can
be of the true spirit. Then too was I not a great sinner, how should
I expect myself worthy of this? But now came the strangest, for he
with the scythe pointed to the uncut grass beside him, where I must
look, and there hidden was laid his twin, it seemed asleep upon his
back, with his scythe beside him, tho' strewn with flowers as one
dead. Yet he smiled as he slept; and upon the face of he who pointed
was that selfsame smile. And yea, ten thousand times yea, I will hide
no more. These two men were one, the only one, the man of men: our
Lord Jesus Christ, who died for us, yet was resurrected.

Q. What, you are in Heaven now? From whore you are
grown saint?

A. Thee may mock, thee may mock, I speak now what I
did not see till after. What others, the saints, might see in a
trice, I saw in confusion. 'Tis not as people say, truth may come in
one second; it may come more slow, and so 'twas for me. Yea, I must
mock myself, that I was so slow. I tell thee, undeserving sinner I
may be, there was I brought certain, most certain, within the
presence of the Father and the Son. Yea, tho' they stood simple as
two labourers in the field, 'twas they; but there was I their
simplicity's fool. And this beside, that still I did not know she
against whose shoulder I lay. Yea, there was I fool most, alas, and
blindest.

Q. No more of riddles. Speak now - who was this
woman?

A. No woman, but queen of queens, greater than the
greatest lady. She without whom God the Father could not have made
His works, whom some would call the Holy Spirit. She is Holy Mother
Wisdom.

Q. The Holy Mother, you would say? The Virgin Mary?

A. A greater even. Holy Mother Wisdom, 'tis she the
bearing spirit of God's will, and one with Him from the beginning,
that takes up all that Christ the Saviour promised. That is both His
mother and His widow, and His daughter beside; wherein lies the truth
of those three women grown one I saw first appear. She is that which
liveth always, and shall be my mistress alway.

Q. Woman, this is rank blasphemy. 'Tis writ clear in
the Book of Genesis that Eve came of Adam's seventh rib.

A. Were thee not born also of a mother? Thee's
nothing without her, master, thee are not born. Nor was Eden born,
nor Adam nor Eve, were Holy Mother Wisdom not there at the first with
God the Father.

Q. What, and this great mother, this magna creatrix,
doth hold thee in her arms, like to some fellow trollop in thy
bagnio? Didst thou not put it so?

A. 'Twas loving kindness, and her mercy. None so
sinful they may not be saved. And thee forget, I knew her not in my
blindness. Else should I have been on my knees before her.

Q. Enough of thy possibilities. What next?

A. Her kingdom shall come to be, and Christ's also,
and far sooner than this wicked world allows. Amen, I am witness.

Q. Then witness, woman, an end to thy new-making
sacred truth, thy preaching-prophesying. What next in the cavern?

A. Most terrible, most bitter after sweet. I did run
in the heavenly meadow, to take that fruit Holy Mother Wisdom did
there offer toward me, I had believed it almost within my hands. Of a
sudden all was dark, yea darkest night. Then was there light again,
but on such a scene I pray I may never see twice, for it was of most
desperate battle, a field where men fought like tigers, and the sound
thereof about us, of clashing iron, of oaths and cries, of pistol and
musket and fearsome cannon, and the groans of the dying intermingled,
blood and the cannons' smoke. I cannot tell thee all its gashly deeds
and cruelty, nor what terror I felt, for the battle did seem so close
its soldiers must break in upon the maggot's chamber where we sat.
Then would I turn my face to Holy Mother Wisdom, in great horror at
this change, to seek her solace; and found greater horror still, lo,
she was not there, nor his Lordship nor Dick, no not nothing of what
had been, all great darkness. and I alone in it.

Q. You were still in the maggot s chamber? This
battle you were shown was seen through the window, as before?

A, Yes, tho' I had seen, nor heard nor felt, no other
to leave. And now was alone, nay, worse than alone, locked in most
awful prison with Antichrist for boon companion. I tell thee, there
was I forced to watch more evil and cruelty than I had known
possible, and each scene worse than the last.

Q. It was more than this scene of battle?

A. Of many, not all of battle, nay, of each foul
crime and sin: of torture, of murther and treachery, of the slaughter
of innocents, never saw I Antichrist so clear, and the cruelty of man
more savage than the wildest beasts, a thousand times worse upon his
own than their worst upon him.

Q. This is what you told Jones, tho' with different
cause and circumstance to it?

A. I told some, not all. 'Tis not to be told.

Q. And you as one burnt in a sea of flames, is it not
so?

A. Yea, there was a girl-child of fourteen years run
from a house put to fire by soldiers, most sorely burnt therein, her
clothes aflame, and it rent my heart not one there did take notice of
her agony, save to mock and laugh at it, d would I could have torn
them limb from limb. I did spring from where I sat and ran to the
window to succour, for she came toward me; but oh my soul in vain, I
should have died a hundred times to reach her, for I saw myself in
her, as I was before I sinned; yet stayed the glass stronger than a
stone wall between us, dear God I could not break it, tho' the poor
child was burning there not three feet from me and cried and wept
most piteously. I see her still, I would e'en weep now for how she
reached her hands for help, so she was blind, and I so close, tho' I
had been ten thousand leagues apart for all I could avail.

Q. This and thy other cruel visions - were they in
appearance of this world?

A. Too like this world, too like, there was no love;
all cruelty, killing, pain. All meted upon innocents, upon women and
children, and nothing to end it.

Q. I ask again. Recognized you face or place of this
world among them?

A. I doubt it was this world; but not that such a
world may be.

Q. They were not of this world?

A. Unless it were Cathay, for their faces were such
they portray of Chinamen, upon pots and the like, more yellow skinned
than we, the eyes narrow. Yet twice I saw beyond the window, what
seemed three moons that shone upon a scene of carnage, and made all
more dreadful by their light.

Q. You were not mistaken - three moons?

A. The one larger, the two other smaller. But
stranger black marvels still: great carriages that bore cannon
within, and went faster than the fastest horse; most swift and
roaring winged lions, that flew as hornets in a rage, the which did
drop great grenadoes upon their enemy and made untold destruction
upon them - why, whole cities laid to ruin, like 'twas said London
did look the morrow of the Great Fire. And else, great towers of
smoke and flame that burn, all below, made hurricane and earthquake
where they rose, visions so dire they make this world we live in seem
kind by the comparison. Yet do I know all its seeds may be found in
ours, alas all we lack are their devilish arts and ingenuity to be
the same, as cruel also. Man is evil not by himself alone, nay, 'tis
by will of Antichrist. The longer he rules, the more are we doomed,
and all shall end in fire.

Q. Thou art like all thy kind, woman, ever thou'dst
credit the worst most. Was there nothing but doom through thy window?

A. All cruel, all cruel.

Q. Therefore without God. How may such a world be
truth? That some are cruel and unjust, it may be; that all are so,
'tis neither true nor seen.

'Twas a prophecy; so may this world become.

Q. A Christian God would not allow it to pass thus.

A He destroyed the Cities of the Plain, for their
sins and false idols.

Q. They were few among many cities. Those that
worshipped truly, and believed His Word, He did not harm. But enough,
return to thy well-called maggot.

A. I was before the window, the burning of that
innocent girl, I must see her die before my eyes; whereon I sank in
despair upon the chamber's floor, I would watch no more - nor could,
for there came a great fog upon the window's glass, and silence, that
in mercy hid all behind. Now of a sudden was there light within the
chamber. At the far end I espied his Lordship, yet most strange, I
first did not know him, for he wore as those from June Eternal wore,
their silken smock and trowse, no wig beside. Yet he did look upon my
face and sadness with kind pity, so to say he brought no more tidings
of suffering, but relief of it; and came to where I lay, and lifted
me to carry to the bench, where he did lie me gentle on my back, then
stooped close above my face and stared into my eyes with a loving
care and tenderness such I had never known in all my dealings with
him. Forget me not, Rebecca, he said, forget me not; at that did kiss
me soft upon the brow, as a brother might. Still did he stare into my
eyes, and 'twas as if his face was become one with He I had seen in
the meadow in June Eternal, that does forgive all sins, and to all
despair bring peace.

Q. I shall not forget thee either, mistress, I'll
grant thee that. Is it this, thy crowning piece? His Lordship grows
the Lord of All, the Redeemer?

A. 'Twill not fit thy alphabet, so be it. Yet so was
it not to me. I knew such joy I must sleep on it; and did.

Q. Must sleep? Who not doting idiot should sleep at
such a juncture?

A. I cannot tell, save I must close my eyes upon that
tender face above, that our souls might join. 'Twas so a loving
husband, that willed me with his love to rest.

Q. Was it not more than your souls that joined?

A. Shame on thee, to think it.

Q. Did he not give thee some potion also?

A. That of his eyes, no more.

Q. Thy gossip Holy Mother Wisdom, did she riot
appear?

A. No, nor Dick neither. 'Twas he alone.

Q. And where didst wake, in Heaven again?

A. No Heaven, but a sore bed to lie upon, the
cavern's ground where first we came, tho' l knew it not at the once,
and would believe myself still where d had slumbered, and most sweet
rested. Too soon it came upon me I had suffered some great loss, was
cold and stiff beside, for all my May-queen clothes was gone, every
stitch. Next I did mind me of Holy Mother Wisdom, at first so she had
come in a dream, as thee'd believe; then knew it no dream, she was
departed and I most sore bereft, of worse than my clothes, my soul
cast naked back in this present world. Then in a rush, so a tumble of
autumn leaves, came further memory, of those three figures in the
meadow, which only now I saw what they had been, our Father and His
Son, both the living and the dead, and 'he beside, and their
haymakers saints and angels; nor did I forget he who had brought me
to this holy knowledge. And misery, I smelled the sweet summer
fragrance of June Eternal, that still lingered faint upon the damp
cavern air, and knew certain I had not dreamed, but lived. My tears
did flow, to think such had come and gone from me before I knew them
truly. I tell thee I did feel it more cruel than all that other
cruelty I had seen. Yea, I was vain still, still the harlot, I
thought only of myself, one scorned and rejected, that had failed a
great test upon me. Poor fool, I knelt there on the stone and prayed
I might be taken back, where I had slept so sweet. No matter, my soul
is wiser now.

Q. Enough of thy soul- was there light to see within
the cavern?

A. Small. I might see.

Q. The maggot was gone?

A. Gone.