Yes, my choice will be Damon. He will be elegant to the women of Pandara. He will not openly seduce. He will treat them as equals, yet not so equal that it diminishes his masculine power. He will declare that their souls and their minds entrance him, that above all women they are the most ravishing. He will talk poetry with them hour after hour; he will never be bored, as husbands are bored. He will indicate the beauties on their world, and will strike attitudes, but not effeminate ones. He will tenderly entwine flowers in their bright hair. He will kiss their hands, and show his muscles at the same time. If they leap with enjoyment, he will leap higher. He will pursue, and offer them ardent embraces. He will discuss their natural problems with them, with manly indulgence. If they become pettish, in the way of women, he will seize them in his strong arms and quiet their mouths with his own. At the last, as if tired of play, he will lift them up and run with them to some silent glade and forcibly take them, ignoring their hypocritical cries and their beating hands. Above all, he will pretend that they, themselves, seduced him with their beauty and reduced him to distraction. What woman can believe that she is without allurement, either of the body or the mind?
I am sad for you, Michael, my brother. Pandara is already lost. I am sending Damon tonight to the women of your beautiful planet. I will reserve Lilith for later, when the race is fallen. She will convince men that lust is more delightful than reason, and feminine charms more to be desired than sanctity, or duty. The flesh, she will say, has its imperative, but where is the imperative of the soul—if it exists at all? The flesh is tangible and lovely. Who would forego it for the transports of the spirit? The man who would do that, she will inform her victims, is no man at all and is not potent.
In short, he is a eunuch. What man does not believe that with a perceptive woman he will be forever virile, despite age or change? Lilith will introduce man to perversions and to atrocities. She will guide him into cruelties which women can never imagine. She will cloud his mind. She will darken his soul against God, while he basks in her arms.
I anticipate Pandara and her sister worlds, for they are now inhabited with a new race, fairer and more intelligent than Terra, among others. Terra, in particular, has always had a certain and sickening mediocrity of intellectual climate, now stimulated by those who designate themselves as “intellectuals.” Terra dutifully conforms to what her race calls non-conformity. Rare has been the man in her history who was truly individual, and those men were either murdered for their purity of soul or, in despair at the race, became its glorious assassins. In general, the history of Terra has been stupid if frightful, predictable if dreadful. The souls of Terra which descend to me give even hell disagreeable moments, for they are ciphers. Yet, on the other hand, they form a special torment to those souls from other worlds who are more intellectually endowed, and it is very amusing. The men from other worlds have even, in hell, attempted to lift up the intelligence of the men of Terra, to no avail, but to much comedy for my demons. There have been desperate but fruitless classes in the sciences and the arts for the men of Terra, and they have always failed, and there have been cries, “These souls are not truly human! They are impermeable!” True, but I always discourage such outcries with the formula of “democracy.” This ritualistic word silences the souls of other worlds, if it tortures them, for was it not their own invention?
My dear brother. In the golden twilight of Pandara I visited your magnificent planet. There I discovered you in a great purple garden, conversing with Our Father, and your voice was full of laughter and gaiety and innocent abandon, for you were rejoicing in the beauty of where you found yourself and were exchanging jests with Him. (The gaiety of Heaven! I found it disturbing at times, for is existence not always serious and earnest and Engaged with Larger Matters?) I did not see Our Father, but He saw me. I felt His majestic presence, and I covered my face with my wings. But still, I knew His penetrating eyes and how can I bear them, so full of reproach and sorrow? It is not my fault. He does not understand, and, alas, it is possible that He never will. He did not speak to me, but He spoke to you, and I heard your voices and your mirth. The green dolphins of the seas appeared to be amusing you.
I have had another thought: When Pandara has fallen I will send one of my favorite demons to her, whose name is Triviality. You know him well. You have seen him in his activity on thousands of planets, and he is more deadly than Damon and Lilith combined. I will write of him another time.
But first Damon and Lilith will have your Pandara and her sister planets. I must not be censored. Men do these things to themselves, and not I. I entice. I indulge men’s deepest desires. But I can move only in an atmosphere of free will, which God created. Will He save Pandara also?
Your brother, Lucifer
Greetings to my brother, Lucifer, who, as the great archangel he is, gives courteous warnings of his dire intentions:
We are excessively pleased that you have informed us that you will send Damon to Pandara, to seduce her six women. (Ah, I remember Damon well! An angel of mischief and wit and jests. Alas, Heaven is the poorer for the absence of that gay spirit.)
So, we have taken precautions against Damon and Lilith. Unfortunately, we had to introduce suspicion into that vast paradise. We should have preferred that entire innocence prevail, but one remembers that Our Father set, in the midst of Eden, a Forbidden Tree. Suspicion, entering into Pandara, will awaken the power of free will, and a healthy mistrust.
Therefore, I appeared to the wives of Pandara, the innocent treasures!—and informed them that they were with child, which pleased them mightily. However, I mourned, they and their unborn children were in deadly danger. A beautiful female demon, one Lilith, who destroyed the souls of millions upon millions of other men, would soon enter the azure light of their planet to seduce their husbands and lead their husbands into unspeakable pleasures and lust, thus insuring that for a time, at least, those husbands would forget their wives and abandon their little nestlings. The husbands would romp with Lilith, neglectful of the duties of hearth, home and bed and field, and they would love her with madness and be so smitten of her charms that they would regard their wives with distaste and possibly revulsion. Worse still, the harvests would be neglected, the cattle unfed, the roofs unsealed, and whereof would wives and children then eat and how would they sleep, unprotected from the rains and the winds?
A woman may forgive her husband a romp in the shadowy forests, but she will not forgive him the sufferings of her children, nor will she forgive the great insult to her own beauty and desirability. The ladies said to me, “Is this Lilith fairer than I?” And I replied, “Assuredly, she is the fairest of women, for all she is a demon, and are not maddening women demons? Though you are lovely to behold, my little ones, Lilith in contrast will cast a dust of ugliness upon you in your husbands’ eyes. But above all, she will shatter the peace and joy of your planet, and bring age upon your faces, and wrinkles, and dim the green fire of your eyes, and she will bring death upon your children and disease and storms and darkness and furies.”
“What, then, shall we do, to preserve our planet, our homes, our youth, and our life and our children?” the ladies implored me.
“Ah,” I told them, “men are susceptible to ladies of no virtue and no matronly attributes! They are like adorable children, wanton at heart but in need of protection, and the careful supervision of alerted wives. They will stretch forth their hands for the flying hair of a woman of no sturdy consequence, and they will dance with her in the moonlight and garland her head with flowers and press their cheeks against her breast, and drink of wine deeply with her. She will laugh and sing and play, and a wise matron understands how these things can lure men from their duties. She will becloud the minds of your husbands so that they will think of pleasure and not the granaries, laughter in the sun and not of weak roofs, roses in the glades and not of wool to be sheared. There is a certain weakness in men that inclines them to frivolity and dallying, and Lilith will exploit that weakness and entice
your husbands from your sides. She will, if you slacken your watchfulness for a moment and do not regard your husbands with some severity.”
“We will be watchful, O, Lord Michael!” the wives promised me, and there was an ominous green fire in their eyes which I momentarily regretted, thinking of their husbands. If Life will be slightly less pleasant and agreeable hereafter for the men of Pandara, and a little more restricted and scentless, and if their ways are watched by their wives and their restlessness suppressed at once—and if their gambols and songs are more scrutinized than before—is this not better than death and sin and age and disease and sorrow, not to mention the harsh tongues of betrayed wives? I have observed that men can endure great hardships and adversities with considerable calm, but they cannot endure for long the smite of a woman’s less affectionate remarks, and her acid conversation at midnight when they would prefer to sleep. You have been merciful in your hells at least, Lucifer, for women are not encouraged to be astringent there nor righteously abusive.
I then repaired to the husbands of Pandara, and when they had risen from their knees at my consent, I said to them, “Glorious is your planet, beloved sons of God, my dear brothers, and fair are her skies and rich are her fields and splendid will be your cities. Handsome are your faces and strong are the rosy muscles of your arms, and your wives rejoice in you.”
“It is so, Lord!” they cried in jubilation, and I smiled at the happiness in their eyes and loved them dearly for the male spirit is a little less complicated than the female and somewhat more naïve. It has an innocence, even in paradise, beyond the innocence of women who, even in paradise, are given to reflection, and are less trusting.
“But alas,” I said to the boys, “your joy is threatened, for you have free will, as you know, and alas again, so do your wives. They have it even more, and that is one of the mysteries of the Almighty, before Whom we shade our faces in awe. Men are often slave to habit, virtuous or unvirtuous, but women have few habits at all and so are easily led astray into novelties. Your wives, though with child, will not always be with child. They will have moments of leisure. While leisure for a man is a quiet resting or an innocent pastime or a running after balls or a climbing of trees for the fruit, or just sleeping, leisure for a woman is the veriest temptation. She has a seeking mind, and what she seeks out is not always immaculate. Too, she is usually enamored of herself, and searches for compliments. Have you not already discovered this for yourselves?”
They considered, then wrinkled their pure brows. “It is true,” one of them said, and I was sorry that I had recalled his wife to him, but it was necessary, as you will doubtless agree. “My wife often sits by a limpid pool and admires her countenance, and then looks far off and dreams. I wonder of what she is dreaming.”
“Your wives will all have dreams very soon,” I told them, “and none of them will be virtuous. None of them will be concerned for the husband who labors in the fields and the forests and who tends cattle and returns dutifully home to his children and sits soberly on his hearth. On the contrary! They will be dreams which I hesitate to speak of, for women’s minds are somewhat less decorous and guileless than men’s, even on Pandara. The indelicacy of a woman’s thoughts would bring a flame to the cheek of even the burliest man. You have observed that nature is not always delicate?”
“It is true,” said the lads, with a worry in their eyes which saddened me.
“And women are far closer to nature than are you, for all you labor in the fields and the forests. There is a certain earthiness in women which is sometimes an embarrassment to husbands, a certain lustiness of the flesh that is not always easily satisfied. If I am incorrect, I beg your forgiveness.”
“You are correct, Lord,” said the simple ones.
“Then, indeed alas,” I said. “For unto your wives there will be sent from the very depths of hell an evil but most beautiful male demon, one Damon. I know him well! He has seduced endless millions of women on other planets, as fair and as matronly as your own, and as busy—with dreams. He is full of novelties and enticements, and adores women and finds them overwhelmingly fascinating—which you not always do. Their conversation never wearies him; he is attentive and glorious. As he never labors, except to do mischief, he is not weary at sundown, as you are weary. As he is a demon and not a man, he does not sleep, and women are notable for being active at night. And dreaming. He converses. You have no idea what a menace to husbands is a conversing man! But women find it distracting.
“You love your wives. Soon, they will bear children. However, when Damon comes to seduce them with fair words, with exciting discourse, with flatteries and ardencies, and will shine the beauty of his countenance upon them and jest with them until they are weak with laughter and adoration, they will forget you and your children, and will race with him to flowery dells and into dim lush spots—and will then betray you for his kisses and his lusts. Then will your children cry for a maternal breast, and then will there be no dishes upon the table to appease your hungers, and no arms to sustain you in your beds. You will be veritable orphans, abandoned and alone, left to weep among the wreckages of your households, and the uncleaned pots and the stale bread. Is that not a fate to weep about, and to pray never afflicts you?”
“Oh, Lord!” they cried in despair, “that is a fate worse than death!”
I had to confess, “Not entirely. Let us not be extravagant. Incidentally, Damon has a voice that is irresistible, and what woman can resist a musical voice if it is also masculine? Damon is all masculinity; he is never weary. His muscles never ache. His foot never lags. He never frowns, if dinner is a little late. He is also never hungry, as you are hungry, and you know how impatient wives are with the honest hunger of a man. They remark that men’s bellies seem bottomless. Correct me if I am wrong.”
“You are correct, Lord,” they said, with dismalness and alarm.
“As Damon does not seek a woman with forthrightness, and with sleep in mind thereafter—as you do—he will dally with a woman after love, until she is ready and eager for his embraces again. Whereas you, my dear little ones, wish to turn on your pillows in preparation for the next day’s work. Damon never asks, “Do you love me?” as your wives ask, until you yawn for very boredom. He constantly assures the creature of his immediate affection that never has he loved a woman so before, and how rapturous are her kisses and perfumed her flesh. Do you say all this to your wives?”
“No, Lord,” they said dolorously.
“You might practice it sometime,” I told them with affection. “It will be somewhat hard to keep it in mind, but it is worth practice. After all, a lady must have her assurances also, and if her husband considers, or pretends to consider, her a flower among women, a gem above gems, she will lure him with daintier dishes and a more compliant behavior, even when he is abrupt. She will forgive him certain rudenesses of manner, for is he not the most magnificent of—well, poets? She will forebear to scold him for forgetfulnesses. She will seek his gratifications and comforts above all over matters, even children. His little weaknesses, in themselves, will make her believe they are lovable, and in the nature of men—which they are, of course. Have you been derelict, my brothers?” I asked, detecting a flicker of sheepishness on their faces.
“We have not always been patient with the vagaries of women,” one confessed.
“Be patient. For one comes who will have all the patience in the world and will never weary. Not only will he seduce your wives, so that all the horrors I have described will come upon you, but he will bring old age and death to you, and flagging of strength, and disease and pain. Worse, he will sharpen your women’s tongues, and nothing is more deadly.”
“How can we escape such a dreadful fate?” they cried.
“I hesitate,” I said, “being a male spirit of considerable compassion, to cast doubts into your minds. But let that man beware who has never doubted a woman, even his wife! Men are trustful, when it involves women, and that is a momentous mystery which I will not
even attempt to explore. I do not advise distrust as a general climate of the mind. That can inspire eventual cynicism and lovelessness. But a reasonable distrust is prudent. And one knows the weaknesses of women. Do we not?”
“Certainly!” they exclaimed, positive that they had always known female weaknesses, though the fact had only just occurred to them, alas.
“Then, be watchful for Damon. Never leave your wives long unguarded, especially in the soft eventides and when the moons are shining. Do not dally in the fields and the forests and the hills and the meadows as the sun begins to go down. Do not let anything draw you aside, even if it appears exciting and wondrous and new—and, probably beautiful, itself. For, if you delay, Damon will appear on your thresholds at home, and you may return to an empty household. A moment’s delight can cost you a whole life’s industry and hope and peace. And, again, it will bring you death and suffering.”
Dialogues With the Devil Page 5
