THE CYCLE OF THE SOUL
Part I
The Material Life

Jozef Rulof

World Wide Web version
© 2014 'De Eeuw van Christus'

They led me away and locked me in a dungeon, where I collapsed broken in body and soul. After a while I woke up. Had I been asleep? The deepest darkness surrounded me and I suffered from a most terrible thirst, while stabbing pains hurt my chest. My whole body ached, my limbs seemed paralyzed for I could not move. Around me I felt the silence of approaching death; it made me shiver. I felt I was a wreck, my eyes burning in my head and my tongue stuck to the roof of my mouth. I was crushed. Would this mean that the end was near? In this cell my fame was whisked away with one big swoop. I could hardly believe it and it was difficult to accept. A hurricane had stormed across the ocean of my life, shipwrecked my insignificant little boat and thrown me on the beach in a miserable heap. But this was very likely not yet sufficient, I supposed I would probably also lose my mind, because I would not be able to stand this much longer. My thirst was torturing me. Again I felt myself sinking down and lose consciousness.

When I came to consciousness for the second time I felt a little better. This time there was some light around me. Had the night faded away for the day? I could now think a little better and move my body slightly. That sleep had refreshed me, but oh, the thirst! If l only had a little bit of water to moisten my lips, that would be enough already. I had never had an experience like this. My only desire was to drink, I desperately longed for it.

Now I became aware of small sounds of life, were there people? I did not want to see anybody, people would frighten me. Only to drink, drink!

I was in a dungeon, but where? They had not thought it necessary to lock me in chains, I could move about freely. Beside me I saw those chains. They could have restrained an enormous monster, to free oneself would be impossible, the links were too thick, too solid. Again I heard sounds of life, and wanted to call for some drink, but I could not utter a sound, my throat was closed tight.

It was the middle of summer and I was surrounded by a frightful heat, which I felt was going to suffocate me. I wanted to get up, but it proved impossible, I was paralyzed. This drama had upset me terribly and shocked my nervous system. Still I wanted to get up. I writhed and shifted myself and in this way I reached the entrance, where I collapsed again; and I knew of nothing more.

How long I lay there I do not know, but a loud creaking noise suddenly woke me up and I felt that someone propped me up against the wall of my cell. The man who had entered was apparently startled when he saw me. Had I changed that much? I looked up at him and knew what he had come for. He handed me a stone pitcher, which I eagerly grabbed and drained till the very last drop. Wonderful, now I could breathe more freely. It was a charitable deed, for which I was very thankful. Without speaking a word he left, closing the door behind him. That was fine with me, I would rather be alone, for I wanted to think, think, for so many thoughts welled up in me. I felt my strength returning slowly and I wanted to try returning to my former place in the corner. How was it possible that one could lose all his strength so suddenly? It proved not at all easy to stand up. But I arrived where I wanted to be, even though my infirmity made the going almost impossible. My willpower I had not lost yet.

Next I tried to get a clear, overall picture of my situation and began to recall what had happened. That scoundrel, that rascal had brought me in this situation. Where was Marianne? Was she broken too? Poor child, how had our life and reunion turned out for us. Is this fate for both of us? I am a murderer, a murderer. A few times I repeated this word, to listen how it sounded. It had a strange ring to it, also something horrible, it meant death. Death? Yes, Roni was dead and I was still alive. Now he probably knew more than I. I felt no remorse, only that I now was a man without hope.

My servant and he had played a wicked game! Oh, had I but listened to my inner feelings which told me not to trust him. Did this have to happen? Was it something from which I could not withdraw myself? Fate had pursued me to the very last minute. His skull I had crushed. I was not sorry, on the contrary, he had deserved it.

Marianne had become an artiste, just like me. It seemed miraculous that she just happened to become acquainted with my friend, a devil in human shape who defiled her. Marianne, whom I loved and knew from my youth! Everything must be of the devil. I understood nothing of this and hardly dared to think about it. She had left home and followed me. It was all very mysterious. I had intended to search for her over the whole wide world and all the time she was living very close nearby. This I found more terrible than the murder I had committed and everything else I still would have to live through. In childhood our ways had separated, as adults they came together again, but how? What a finish! Where was she now? Would she be ill? I understood that her inner feelings had been bruised just as much as mine. It could not be else. What would she do now?

What had possessed Roni to be so jealous of my art? Why? It pleased me that his beautiful body with which he had caused so much anguish and grief was not among the living any more. His frightful hate and envy could not hurt others any longer. I now understood him, as well as my feelings of terror and bad dreams and my servant, now that it was too late! A few days earlier I had felt it already. That’s why that fear in me to have to meet him. Was all this coincidence, cause or a law? An invisible power? I could not figure it out and most likely never would, but it was terrible. I could not shake myself loose from him, though I would have wanted to very much. And he? He probably could not either. We always were attracted to each other and yet he hated me and I him. I would have thought it excitingly miraculous, if it weren’t so sad, so intensely sad. In any case, it had cost him his life and I was locked up in a cell waiting for my life’s end.

Roni, Marianne and I, how mighty was the influence that connected the three of us. The three of us? Yes, for we had been brought together, but by whom? By satan? Did the devil meddle in human affairs? It could not be God, God was Love. In any case these were invisible forces or fate. The force that first had united us and afterwards destroyed us were devilish. I accepted this without question, to me there did not seem to be an other solution possible and yet, what did the devil have to do with us, puny little people. Had he no other work? Had he nothing else to do? But then who was it, who ruined our young lives? It was an enigma to which I could not find the solution. Yet here I was again, busy asking ‘why’ and ‘wherefore’ as usual. This trait of my character I had not lost, notwithstanding all that had happened.

If only Marianne came to visit me, if only it would be granted her and me. Perhaps she knew more than I. She had come to know him very well, I had been blind, totally blind. How awful my thoughts had been about her. I gladly took everything back, for a she-devil she was not. No, not that at all, that was the very last and saddest part of all. Possibly I might be allowed to see her before my death. Anyway I would request, nay, beg it, because I had to speak to her before I died.

There was a rattling at the entrance and a very high personage entered. He asked me several questions, which I answered.

Then I asked him: ‘Can I have somebody visit me here? Hasn’t somebody come yet?’

‘No’, was his short and haughty answer.

‘If someone comes for me, would that be possible?’

He waved his hand and I understood that such was not at all certain. A cold comfort. It was my only desire before I died. How cruel people were. Great sadness assailed me and I felt dead-tired.

Once again someone came and brought me some water. How grateful to him I was for that. I drank, but wanted to save some for later, for it was not at all sure how long I would have to wait and then I would at least have a little left. My head hurt and I felt so much weaker that I could not think of anything any more. Already I had strained my thinking too much, it had tired me out, so that I fell asleep. I let myself go, for in this state I did not need to think and felt nothing of my misery. At this time I would have liked to sleep myself to death. Soon sleep took me under her wings.

When I woke up again I felt deeply unhappy. It looked as if day was breaking and by that I calculated how long I had slept. However, I was so dazed that I sat and stared ahead of me for several hours, sitting in the same position. Through the intensity of my innermost feelings I felt lifeless. How would my life end? Through hanging, beheading or torture until death? It was all the same to me, if only I could talk to Marianne. I was willing to suffer everything, to give my life for her, but I had to know what I did it for. I wanted to see and speak with her.

The days passed. I scratched marks on the wall and counted the days that had gone by. Nearly two weeks I had been locked up and still Marianne had not come. I became afraid that something had happened to her also. Then suddenly one afternoon the bolts of my cell were pushed aside and this great happiness was given to me, for Marianne stepped inside. I burst into tears and Marianne flew into my arms, she also cried on my shoulder; two broken-hearted people. Quick like a flash of lightning I began to think.

‘Come’, I said, ‘let’s not lose a second, come, talk to me.’ I felt that we were one of soul and spirit. ‘I have loved you so, Marianne, already from our childhood. Please, my dear child, tell me all about Roni, for I shall have to die. It will make dying a little easier.’

She was deeply moved, but could not utter a word. I began asking her a few questions and slowly I found out that she too knew but very little about Roni. She also had felt attracted to him, as if bound by a tie, a sinister force, that had drawn her to him. Now I still knew nothing, for the very same thing had happened to me. A few years after me she had taken up art. More she could not tell, for she did not understand this incomprehensible problem either. I draw her closer to me, for I loved her in the true sense. She would have had the ability to raise my art to the ultimate height, but it was not to be any more. My life and hers lay in ruins. Then she began to speak.

‘My art has been my downfall, Lantos. Do not ask about my life, for you will send me away.’

‘Do you love me, Marianne?’

She looked at me through tear-filled eyes and I understood her silent answer. We were united, one in feeling, one in thinking, one life that would presently be torn apart. For how long? My heart bled and I needed to summon all my strength to remain standing up. I wanted to live these moments, live them to the fullest. Before me I saw a road without end, endlessly going on, so that I could not see the end of it. What did it mean? I returned again to reality and held her even tighter to my breast.

‘My child, my Marianne, will you never forget me? If there is an eternity, do you think that we shall see each other again? Tell me what your thoughts are about that?’

‘We shall live, Lantos, live we will, for it is God’s will.’

‘Then there is no death? Do you know more about it than I?’

‘No, but don’t they teach us that?’

‘Ah, you study and accept? So be it. Let us have faith in that we shall meet again. Wherever it may be, I shall go on loving you, through all the ages to infinity. Do you feel like that, Marianne?

‘I do, Lantos, I feel it. I know now what it means to love true and pure. I did not love before, could not love, but now I feel different. Do not ask about my life, but I love you deeply, intensely.’

She kissed me and I felt her relaxing, her consciousness ebbing away.

I held her tightly within me, saying: ‘Marianne, stay conscious, save those seconds, give me that precious time, don’t lose yourself, stay awake, stay awake!’

Her eyes opened again and she looked at me. Thank God, not a second I wanted to lose.

‘Long for me, when I shall be no longer with you, will you?’

She nestled herself closer to my breast and cried. I could not think any more, yet I had so much to ask; I felt empty.

‘Longing, longing’, that one thought repeated itself in my mind, ‘long for, always long for, until you can’t any more.’

‘If there is a God, if in truth You love Your children, then unite us after death.’

‘Long for me, for love, Marianne, will you long for, always continue to long for me? Wait, ever waiting until He Who calls Himself God will give it to us?’

‘If there is a Father in Heaven, then I beg You not to destroy this beauty, not this love, allow us this one thing, this most sacred thing.’

I spoke on and on, always begging that our love not would be destroyed. I who did not believe in Him still begged. I was not aware of what He could do, but I asked and begged; at that moment I could not do anything else. An unfamiliar peace lay within me. Then again I felt empty and could not think more and a dizzy spell overtook me. With all my might I fought against it, but to no avail. It was not Marianne but I who collapsed. I could still feel her near me, her lips pressed on mine, on my eyes and cheeks, but far, far away; I sank down into an endless depth.

I woke up in the night. Darkness was around me, but this darkness was dear to me, more than the day, than the light, for in this I could think. I remembered everything and grieved that I would never more be able to have this experience again. That too would not be granted me. How I longed to be dead. And now but to die as soon as possible, then everything will stop, this misery too. Away from this life, from the earth, from the people and the animals. Only then would I be free of this damned life. I now yearned for the silence of the grave and for death, that horrible monster, I hankered.

Day came and then night again. Days and nights now followed each other, going straight to the end of my life. But why did it take so long? Since I had to die, then as quickly as possible. Finally the time came that I would be sentenced. Would I still meet Marianne?

One morning they came for me and led me before the court. I looked around for Marianne, but she was not there. I heard she was ill. I was not condemned to death, but was to be imprisoned in a dungeon for the rest of my life. I asked for the death sentence, but they paid no attention to me, the verdict was settled.

To be shut up for life in a dungeon was hideous, I dared not think of it. How readily I would have offered my head to the block. Everything was dear to me, but this was horrible. I was blindfolded and led to a different place, which I felt was an island, where I was locked up. Neither from my parents nor from Marianne did I ever hear. I was one of the living dead.