The Chemical Wedding, by Christian Rosencreutz Page 8

  “Well,” I said, “if that’s the way it is, we certainly aren’t going to say no.”

  We decided to try this out right after dinner, and then immediately decided that dinner was in fact over, and we all stood and took the hand of the maiden who’d been assigned to us, to walk with her.

  “No no no,” said our mistress. “Not so fast. We have to see how Fortune is going to match us up.”

  So we separated again, and the girls began arguing about how to arrange this, but that was just pretend, because our mistress quickly proposed a plan12 they all immediately agreed to. She had us form ourselves up randomly in a circle. Then, starting from herself, she would count to the seventh person, and that person would be assigned the person seven down from him or her, whether that person was a man or maid. We brothers, at least, didn’t guess that there was a scheme afoot, and agreed to this, but though we thought we’d mixed ourselves up well with the girls, they knew very well where to put themselves in. The lady began to count, and the seventh from herself was a maid, and the seventh from that maid also a maid – and it went on in this way until every virgin had been hit and not a single one of us. So there we stood, all of us poor fellows alone, and had to put up with being laughed at as well for our gullibility. Anyone who’d seen us all mixed together at the start would have thought it was impossible for none of us to get chosen, but it was so, and the game was over, and we could only shake our heads over our mistress’s trick. Oh well.

  Meanwhile Cupid himself had flown into the hall, but he hadn’t time to laugh with us or at us, because he was only bringing a loving cup from Their Majesties for us to drink from, and summoning our mistress to the king, and couldn’t stay to play. So we drank and thanked him and watched him fly off with her.

  Our company must have been looking a little down in the mouth then, and I don’t think the maidens were all that sorry to see it, either, but they did begin a decorous dance and invited us to join – I myself preferred to watch, but the more mercurial among my friends were quick to step in, as if they were career dancing-masters.

  After a few dances, the lady came back again. “There’s to be a comedy,” she said, “put on by the artisans and students of the palace, for the entertainment of the royal couple before they depart. Would you like to see it? If so, Their Majesties would be happy to host you in the House of the Sun.”

  We thanked her very much for this invitation and asked her to bring to Their Majesties our gratitude for the honor. She went off on this errand and came right back bringing word that we were to go back upstairs to where Their Majesties were waiting in the gallery. We didn’t stay there long, as the royal procession was already underway – though without any music at all. In the front was that unnamed regal woman I call the duchess, wearing a small rich coronet, dressed in white satin and carrying nothing but a small crucifix made from a single great pearl – the king and his bride had between them revealed it13 only that day. After her went the royal maidens, carrying the precious items from the little altar. Then the three kings (the old one, the black one, and the middle-aged one), with the bridegroom among them dressed quite plainly in black satin,14 in the Italian style. He wore a small black hat with a little pointed black feather, which he very graciously tipped when he saw us, while we bowed to him, and to the others, as we’d been instructed to do. After the three kings came their queens, two of them dressed richly and colorfully, but the bride in the middle was dressed all in plain black like her groom: Cupid held up her train. We were signaled to follow, and fell in behind, with old Atlas bringing up the rear. In procession we followed along many grand promenades and after a time arrived at the House of the Sun. There, on a specially erected and comfortably furnished dais, we were seated to watch this comedy. We all sat at the king’s right, though a little apart, with our girls on the left, except those royal maidens carrying the king’s emblems from the altar, who were given a special place at the top. The others had to make do standing below between the columns.

  The comedy15 we were shown had some really remarkable things in it, so I will outline briefly what it was about.

  ACT ONE: First of all a very old king comes on with his servants, and a little chest is brought out that we’re told was rescued from the sea. It’s opened, and inside is a beautiful baby girl, together with some jewels and a letter for the king. He reads it and weeps. He tells his servants that long before, the king of the Moors invaded lands belonging to a kinswoman of his, to whose daughter the king had betrothed his own son. The Moor killed all her offspring, right down to this little child, the only one to escape. So the king swears enmity against the Moor and vows revenge. He orders the child to be cared for and war prepared against the Moor. The rest of the act was taken up with this, and with the girl’s education (she is put under the care of an elderly tutor), along with other entertaining inventions.

  Then an INTERLUDE: A fight between a lion and a gryphon. The lion won, and it was an exciting match to watch.

  In the SECOND ACT the Moor16 appears, a treacherous black fellow, furious at learning his murders have been discovered and that the baby girl has been stolen from him and rescued by the king. How is he to defeat this powerful adversary? He gets advice from some fugitives from the King’s lands, escaping a famine. Well, his plots work, and contrary to all our expectations, the girl, now a young lady, falls again into his hands. He intends to have her strangled, but his own servants cleverly deceive him and hide her. The act ends with a splendid Moorish extravaganza.

  The THIRD ACT: A great army of the king’s, under the command of a valiant old knight, descends on the Moor’s country and eventually rescues the young lady from the tower where she has been hidden, and puts her royal robes back on. A splendid platform is raised all in a moment and the lady elevated on it. Enter twelve royal ambassadors, and the elderly knight makes a speech saying that his king not only rescued her from death and raised her to be a princess (though she hasn’t always behaved as properly as she might have),17 but has chosen her to wed his son, if she and he swear to certain conditions. And here the knight orders a number of precepts to be read out from a scroll, all of them admirable, I would have noted them down if they hadn’t been so long. The young lady swears to the conditions and thanks the knight for this high favor, after which the praises of God, the king, and the lady are sung, and everyone exits.

  SECOND INTERLUDE. The four beasts18 mentioned in the Book of Daniel, exactly as he saw them in his vision, were all brought in, each with its mystic significance.

  In the FOURTH ACT, the young lady is restored to her lost kingdom, and crowned. For a while she promenades in the royal courtyards, shown around with great joy. Many ambassadors present themselves, not only to wish her well but also just to look on her in her glory. She maintains her dignity for a while, but then begins to gaze around her, gives the ambassadors and the other lords the eye and winks and flirts openly with them – the actress played all this to the life. The Moor learns of this wanton behavior and sees his chance. The princess’s steward fails to watch her carefully, and she is easily swayed by the Moor’s sweet talk. She secretly gives in to him, falls under his spell, and forgets about the king. The Moor makes the most of this, and having got her into his hands, he talks her into yielding control of her whole kingdom to him. In the third scene, he has her led out first to be stripped stark naked and then tied to a post on a lowly wooden platform and whipped. Then she is sentenced to death! This was so affecting that many of us wept. Naked as she is, she is thrown in prison to await her death by poison. The poison doesn’t actually kill her, but it does cause her to break out in leprous sores. So this act ends rather tragically.

  Another INTERLUDE followed. A statue or figure of Nebuchadnezzar19 was brought out, with heraldic signs of many kinds on his head, feet, legs, breast, and belly, all of which will be eventually explained.

  FIFTH ACT: The king’s son is told of everything that has happened between the Moor and his future wife. He begs his father to take acti
on on her behalf and not leave her in that situation, so the king orders his ambassadors off to bring her whatever comfort they can in her sickness and bondage, and at the same time to scold her for her bad behavior. She refuses to receive them, and not only that, she’s going to go on being the concubine of the Moor! The young prince is told of everything that has happened so far.

  INTERLUDE: A band of clowns tumbled in, each carrying a piece of something, which they rapidly assembled into a great globe of the world, and just as quickly they took it all apart again – an amusing fantasy.

  In the SIXTH ACT the prince goes into battle with the Moor. The Moor is defeated, and everyone believes the prince has also been killed. He recovers, though, frees the princess, and gives her into the care of his steward and his chaplain. The steward at first lords it over the princess and torments her, but then the priest decides he wants a turn and is so wicked he wrests all power from the steward.20 Word of all this reaches the prince, who sends someone who breaks that priest’s grip for good and then re-dresses the princess richly (but modestly) for her wedding.

  After this act a huge mechanical elephant came forth, carrying a tower on his back crowded with musicians, and this too was a big hit.

  In the LAST ACT the bridegroom appears with such pomp you couldn’t believe it, and I was astonished how they could bring it all off. The bride comes forward in the same solemn glory to meet him. (Everyone present cried out at this – Long live the bridegroom! Long live the bride! – so that by cheering the comedy they also congratulated our young king and queen in the neatest way, which I noticed seemed to please them very much.) The prince and his lady circled the stage, and at last everyone began to sing this song:

  Oh happy day, and blessed night!

  Let all here present sing –

  Joy to all who see this sight,

  The wedding of the king!

  O lovely bride so long awaited,

  Now at last betrothed to be!

  Our yearning hearts at last are sated:

  For this we’ve striven faithfully!

  We, virtuous maids and elders wise,

  We’ve loved you and we wish you well.

  May from your lawful pairing rise

  Descendants more than tongue can tell!

  There were thanks then from everyone to everyone, and the comedy, which must have been particularly delightful for the royal persons, was over.

  Evening was coming on, and we all departed in order as before, up the long winding stair and into the hall I described, where tables were lavishly laid. This was the first time we were invited to dine in the company of the king. The little altar was set down in the middle of the hall, and the six royal emblems placed on it again.

  The young king was very gracious, but he seemed unable to be happy; now and then he would exchange some words with us, then look away and sigh – for which little Cupid made fun of him, and tried to tease him. The old king and the old queen were also very serious; only the young wife of the old king was at all happy, for a reason I didn’t yet understand. There were three tables: the royal persons at the first, at the second just we brothers, and at the third some of the royal maidens; the rest of the girls and others had to serve. Everything was done with great state, but in such solemn silence that I’m afraid to write much about it. I can say that before the meal began all the kings and queens dressed themselves in snow-white shining garments and then sat down. Over their table hung the great golden crown, whose brilliant gems could have lit the hall all by themselves, but candles filled the hall – all of them lit from the small taper on the altar: what the reason for that was I don’t at all know. I certainly did notice that the young king several times sent a bit of food to the white serpent, and that required thinking about.

  Almost all the chatter at the banquet was little Cupid’s. He couldn’t leave us (and especially me) alone, but kept bringing up odd topics and producing surprises. He couldn’t arouse much laughter, though; the meal went on in silence, which made me, at least, think that something dreadful was in the offing. There was no music; anyone who was asked a question gave a short, distracted answer that offered no conversation. In short, everything had such a sinister aspect that the sweat began trickling down my sides, and I really think that even the bravest man might have felt nervous.

  Now the supper was almost over, and the king ordered the book to be handed to him from the altar. He opened it before him and had an aged courtier ask us once again if we were all resolved to stand by him, in prosperity and in adversity. We said, trembling, that we would, and he asked gravely whether we would sign our names to that pledge, and we of course had no choice but to say yes, and one after another we got up and each with his own hand wrote his name in the book.

  When this was done, the little crystal ever-flowing fountain was brought forward, along with a tiny crystal glass. The royals drank the blood-red fluid, one after the other, and then it was given to us, and then to everyone present. It was called the Drink of Silence. All the royal persons gave us their hands and said that if we didn’t stick by them this night, we’d never see them ever again, which brought tears to our eyes. Our directress stood up for us and promised eloquently on our behalf, which gratified them.

  Just then a bell tolled, and at the sound the faces of all the royals turned so incredibly bleak that we were close to despair. Quickly they took off their white garments, revealing their black ones beneath. The whole hall was then hung with black velvet, even the ceiling – all this having been prepared in advance.21 We also were given black robes to put on. The tables were removed, and everyone seated themselves along the dais. Our president, who had slipped out of the hall, now returned bringing six black satin scarves, with which she blindfolded the six royal persons. As soon as they were unable to see, six covered coffins were brought in by the servants and set down in the hall, and a low black bench was placed in the middle.

  Then there came into the hall a very tall man, black as coal, who carried a large and very sharp axe. The old king was brought to kneel at the bench, and without a moment’s hesitation the black man lopped off his head! The head was wrapped in black cloth, and the gushing blood was caught in a great golden chalice and placed with the old king, and the old king’s head, in his coffin, which was covered again.

  It went the same with each of the others in turn, so that I began to think that maybe my turn would come too, but no, as soon as the six royals were beheaded, the black man stalked out again. But just outside the door, apparently, someone beheaded him, for his head and his axe were brought back in, and they were put into a small chest.

  This was a bloody wedding! I had no idea what was to happen, and I tried to suspend judgment until I understood better. Our lady, seeing that some of us were weakening and weeping, told us to pull ourselves together. “The lives of these six22 are in your hands,” she said. “Do as I tell you and these deaths will mean life for many.”

  She made it clear that we should now just go off to bed, and not grieve for them, for they would get all that they deserved in the end. She said good-night to us all; she herself had to keep watch over the bodies nightlong.

  We could only obey. Our pages conducted us to our rooms. My page talked to me of this and that, and I actually remember much that he said – it gave me reason to admire his mind – but I came to see that his real intention was simply to lull me to sleep after the events of the evening. At last I did pretend to fall asleep. But I wasn’t asleep at all; I couldn’t put the images of those beheadings out of my mind.

  My room was over the bay, and I could look out across it from the windows beside my bed. At midnight, on the stroke of twelve, I saw what seemed to be a fire on the water. I threw open the shutters. Seven ships were approaching across the bay, all lit up. Above each of them hovered a tongue of flame, coming and passing, sometimes descending to the deck: and somehow it was obvious to me that these were the spirits of the beheaded men and women. Soundlessly the ships came to shore, and I could see that
each was crewed by a single sailor. When they had tied up, I saw our mistress, with a torch, going toward them, and behind her were carried the six covered coffins, and the small chest. Each of them was taken aboard a ship and hidden below.

  I awakened my page, who was very glad of it, because he’d been running around all day long and might well have slept through this event, which he knew all about. All the coffins had now been taken aboard, the running lights were put out, and the six tongues of flame23 passed together back across the bay. A single night-lamp was lit on each ship. We could see now that hundreds of guards were preparing to camp that night on the shore, and they sent our mistress back to the castle. She bolted the doors and gates again with care. I could see that nothing more would happen this night; we would have to wait till day.

  So we two went back to bed. I was the only one of my brethren who had a room facing the bay, so I was the only one who saw this: and now, completely exhausted, I fell at last asleep in the midst of a thousand thoughts.

  1 Hermes is the presiding deity of alchemy: he is the god of shape-shifting, and of money (the alchemists may have personally scorned the search for mere material gold in the Work, but it was a common preoccupation); he is also identified with mercury the element, the basic stuff of much alchemical practice. (He is also famed for tricks, counterfeits, and lying, the god of thieves.)

  2 The string of symbols has been interpreted by Richard Kienast (1926) as a chronogram, an encoded date, which he works out as 1378, which is Christian Rosencreutz’s birth year as given in the Rosicrucian document called Confessio for short.

  3 The quote is from Isaiah: “Moreover the light of the moon shall be as the light of the sun, and the light of the sun shall be sevenfold, as the light of seven days, in the day that the LORD bindeth up the breach of his people, and healeth the stroke of their wound.” (KJV) Wounds and their healing, for the alchemists as for Isaiah, always have physical, spiritual, and temporal aspects. The sun stands for gold in alchemy, the moon for silver.