Lilith

"Such a compulsion would be without value. But there is a light that goes deeper than the will, a light that
lights up the darkness behind it: that light can change your will, can make it truly yours and not
another's−−not the Shadow's. Into the created can pour itself the creating will, and so redeem it!"
"That light shall not enter me: I hate it!−−Begone, slave!"
"I am no slave, for I love that light, and will with the deeper will which created mine. There is no slave but
the creature that wills against its creator. Who is a slave but her who cries, `I am free,' yet cannot cease to
exist!"
"You speak foolishness from a cowering heart! You imagine me given over to you: I defy you! I hold myself
against you! What I choose to be, you cannot change. I will not be what you think me−−what you say I am!"
"I am sorry: you must suffer!"
"But be free!"
Lilith
"She alone is free who would make free; she loves not freedom who would enslave: she is herself a slave.
Every life, every will, every heart that came within your ken, you have sought to subdue: you are the slave of
every slave you have made−−such a slave that you do not know it!−−See your own self!"
She took her hand from the head of the princess, and went two backward paces from her.
A soundless presence as of roaring flame possessed the house−− the same, I presume, that was to the children
a silent wind. Involuntarily I turned to the hearth: its fire was a still small moveless glow. But I saw the
worm−thing come creeping out, white−hot, vivid as incandescent silver, the live heart of essential fire. Along
the floor it crawled toward the settle, going very slow. Yet more slowly it crept up on it, and laid itself, as
unwilling to go further, at the feet of the princess. I rose and stole nearer. Mara stood motionless, as one that
waits an event foreknown. The shining thing crawled on to a bare bony foot: it showed no suffering, neither
was the settle scorched where the worm had lain. Slowly, very slowly, it crept along her robe until it reached
her bosom, where it disappeared among the folds.
The face of the princess lay stonily calm, the eyelids closed as over dead eyes; and for some minutes nothing
followed. At length, on the dry, parchment−like skin, began to appear drops as of the finest dew: in a moment
they were as large as seed−pearls, ran together, and began to pour down in streams. I darted forward to snatch
the worm from the poor withered bosom, and crush it with my foot. But Mara, Mother of Sorrow, stepped
between, and drew aside the closed edges of the robe: no serpent was there−−no searing trail; the creature had
passed in by the centre of the black spot, and was piercing through the joints and marrow to the thoughts and
intents of the heart. The princess gave one writhing, contorted shudder, and I knew the worm was in her
secret chamber.
"She is seeing herself!" said Mara; and laying her hand on my arm, she drew me three paces from the settle.
Of a sudden the princess bent her body upward in an arch, then sprang to the floor, and stood erect. The
horror in her face made me tremble lest her eyes should open, and the sight of them overwhelm me. Her
bosom heaved and sank, but no breath issued. Her hair hung and dripped; then it stood out from her head and
emitted sparks; again hung down, and poured the sweat of her torture on the floor.
I would have thrown my arms about her, but Mara stopped me.
Lilith 127