The Revolt of the Angels - 16

Seraphim placed the jewels of the celestial crown in coffers. Michael
offered his arm to the Queen of Heaven, and the Holy Family escaped from
the palace by a subterranean passage of porphyry. A deluge of fire was
falling on the citadel. Regaining his post once more, the glorious
archangel declared that he would never capitulate, and straightway
advanced the standards of the living God. That same evening the rebel
host made its entry into the thrice-sacred city. On a fiery steed Satan
led his demons. Behind him marched Arcade, Istar, and Zita. As in the
ancient revels of Dionysus, old Nectaire bestrode his ass. Thereafter,
floating out far behind, followed the black standards.
The garrison laid down their arms before Satan. Michael placed his
flaming sword at the feet of the conquering archangel.
"Take back your sword, Michael," said Satan. "It is Lucifer who yields
it to you. Bear it in defence of peace and law." Then letting his gaze
fall on the leaders of the celestial cohorts, he cried in a ringing
voice:
"Archangel Michael, and you, Powers, Thrones, and Dominations, swear all
of you to be faithful to your God."
"We swear it," they replied with one voice.
And Satan said:
"Powers, Thrones, and Dominations, of all past wars, I wish but to
remember the invincible courage that you displayed and the loyalty which
you rendered to authority, for these assure me of the steadfastness of
the fealty you have just sworn to me."
The following day, on the ethereal plain, Satan commanded the black
standards to be distributed to the troops, and the winged soldiers
covered them with kisses and bedewed them with tears.
And Satan had himself crowned God. Thronging round the glittering walls
of Heavenly Jerusalem, apostles, pontiffs, virgins, martyrs, confessors,
the whole company of the elect, who during the fierce battle had enjoyed
delightful tranquillity, tasted infinite joy in the spectacle of the
coronation.
The elect saw with ravishment the Most High precipitated into Hell, and
Satan seated on the throne of the Lord. In conformity with the will of
God which had cut them off from sorrow they sang in the ancient fashion
the praises of their new Master.
And Satan, piercing space with his keen glance, contemplated the little
globe of earth and water where of old he had planted the vine and formed
the first tragic chorus. And he fixed his gaze on that Rome where the
fallen God had founded his empire on fraud and lie. Nevertheless, at
that moment a saint ruled over the Church. Satan saw him praying and
weeping. And he said to him:
"To thee I entrust my Spouse. Watch over her faithfully. In thee I
confirm the right and power to decide matters of doctrine, to regulate
the use of the sacraments, to make laws and to uphold purity of morals.
And the faithful shall be under obligation to conform thereto. My Church
is eternal, and the gates of hell shall not prevail against it. Thou art
infallible. Nothing is changed."
And the successor of the apostles felt flooded with rapture. He
prostrated himself, and with his forehead touching the floor, replied:
"O Lord, my God, I recognise Thy voice! Thy breath has been wafted like
balm to my heart. Blessed be Thy name. Thy will be done on Earth, as it
is in Heaven. Lead us not into temptation, but deliver us from evil."
And Satan found pleasure in praise and in the exercise of his grace; he
loved to hear his wisdom and his power belauded. He listened with joy to
the canticles of the cherubim who celebrated his good deeds, and he
took no pleasure in listening to Nectaire's flute, because it celebrated
nature's self, yielded to the insect and to the blade of grass their
share of power and love, and counselled happiness and freedom. Satan,
whose flesh had crept, in days gone by, at the idea that suffering
prevailed in the world, now felt himself inaccessible to pity. He
regarded suffering and death as the happy results of omnipotence and
sovereign kindness. And the savour of the blood of victims rose upward
towards him like sweet incense. He fell to condemning intelligence and
to hating curiosity. He himself refused to learn anything more, for fear
that in acquiring fresh knowledge he might let it be seen that he had
not known everything at the very outset. He took pleasure in mystery,
and believing that he would seem less great by being understood, he
affected to be unintelligible. Dense fumes of Theology filled his brain.
One day, following the example of his predecessor, he conceived the
notion of proclaiming himself one god in three persons. Seeing Arcade
smile as this proclamation was made, he drove him from his presence.
Istar and Zita had long since returned to earth. Thus centuries passed
like seconds. Now, one day, from the altitude of his throne, he plunged
his gaze into the depths of the pit and saw Ialdabaoth in the Gehenna
where he himself had long lain enchained. Amid the everlasting gloom
Ialdabaoth still retained his lofty mien. Blackened and shattered,
terrible and sublime, he glanced upwards at the palace of the King of
Heaven with a look of proud disdain, then turned away his head. And the
new god, as he looked upon his foe, beheld the light of intelligence and
love pass across his sorrow-stricken countenance. And lo! Ialdabaoth was
now contemplating the Earth and, seeing it sunk in wickedness and
suffering, he began to foster thoughts of kindliness in his heart. On a
sudden he rose up, and beating the ether with his mighty arms, as though
with oars, he hastened thither to instruct and to console mankind.
Already his vast shadow shed upon the unhappy planet a shade soft as a
night of love.
And Satan awoke bathed in an icy sweat.
Nectaire, Istar, Arcade, and Zita were standing round him. The finches
were singing.
"Comrades," said the great archangel, "no--we will not conquer the
heavens. Enough to have the power. War engenders war, and victory
defeat.
"God, conquered, will become Satan; Satan, conquering, will become God.
May the fates spare me this terrible lot; I love the Hell which formed
my genius. I love the Earth where I have done some good, if it be
possible to do any good in this fearful world where beings live but by
rapine. Now, thanks to us, the god of old is dispossessed of his
terrestrial empire, and every thinking being on this globe disdains him
or knows him not. But what matter that men should be no longer
submissive to Ialdabaoth if the spirit of Ialdabaoth is still in them;
if they, like him, are jealous, violent, quarrelsome, and greedy, and
the foes of the arts and of beauty? What matter that they have rejected
the ferocious Demiurge, if they do not hearken to the friendly demons
who teach all truths; to Dionysus, Apollo, and the Muses? As to
ourselves, celestial spirits, sublime demons, we have destroyed
Ialdabaoth, our Tyrant, if in ourselves we have destroyed Ignorance and
Fear."
And Satan, turning to the gardener, said:
"Nectaire, you fought with me before the birth of the world. We were
conquered because we failed to understand that Victory is a Spirit, and
that it is in ourselves and in ourselves alone that we must attack and
destroy Ialdabaoth."
THE END
+--------------------------------------------------------------+
| Transcriber's Notes |
| |
| Page 74: "Madame des Aubel's" amended to "Madame des |
| Aubels'" |
| Page 170: "clomb" _sic_ (archaic; past tense of _climb_). |
| Page 210: "befel" _sic_ (archaic). |
| Page 230: "Bouchette" amended to "Bouchotte" |
| Page 234: "befel" _sic_ (archaic). |
| Page 259: "cetain" amended to "certain" |
| Page 278: "youself" amended to "yourself" |
| Page 284: "wistaria" _sic_; alternative spelling. |
| Page 309: "Bergundy" amended to "Burgundy" |
| |
| Accents and hyphenation have generally been standardised. |
+--------------------------------------------------------------+