Rose of Paracelsus
In the laboratory, located in the two basement rooms, Paracelsus prayed for his God, God in general, God for all the same, so that he sent him a disciple. It was getting dark. The dim fire of the fireplace cast dim shadows. There was no force to rise and light the iron lamp. Paracelsa was overwhelmed by exhaustion, and he forgot about his plea. The night had already erased the outline of the dusty flasks and distillation vessel, when they knocked on the door. The half asleep owner got up, climbed the high spiral staircase, and opened one of the shutters. A stranger entered the house. He was also very tired. Paracelsus pointed to a bench; The one who sat down and waited. For some time they were silent.
The teacher spoke first. “I am familiar with both the eastern and western types of faces,” he said, not without pride. “But yours is unknown to me.” Who are you and what do you expect from me?
“My name doesn't matter,” answered the one who entered. “For three days and three nights I was on my way before I reached your home.” I want to be your student. I took with me everything that I have. He took off the bag and shook it over the table. The coins were gold, and there were a lot of them. He did it with his right hand. Paracelsus went off to light the lamp. When he returned, he saw that there was a rose in his left hand. Rosa excited him.
He sat back, crossed his fingertips and said: “You hope that I can create a stone that can turn all natural elements into gold, and you offer me gold.” But I'm not looking for gold, and if you are interested in gold, you will never be my student.
“Gold doesn't interest me,” answered the one who entered. “These coins are just proof of my willingness to work.” I want you to teach me about science. I want to walk the path next to you leading to the Stone. Paracelsus slowly said: - The path is the Stone. The place you come from is the Stone. If you do not understand these words, then you still do not understand anything. Each step is a goal. Entered looked at him with disbelief. He clearly said: “So the target is still there?” Paracelsus laughed. “My detractors, as numerous as they are near, assert that they are not, and call me a liar. I have a different opinion on this matter, but I admit that I really seduce myself with illusions. I only know that there is a Road. Silence followed, then the one who entered said:
- I am ready to go through it with you; if necessary - put years on it. Let me beat the desert. Let me at least see the promised land from afar, even if I am not destined to step on it. But before you go, give me one proof of your skill.
- when? - anxiously uttered Paracelsus.
“Immediately,” the pupil replied with unexpected determination. At first they spoke Latin, now in German.
The young man raised a rose in front of him. They say that you can, armed with your science, burn the rose and then resurrect it from the ashes. Let me witness this miracle. That's what I ask you for, and I will give you my life without a trace.
“You are too trusting,” said the teacher. - I do not need gullibility. I need faith. The one who came in stood on his own. “It is because I am incredulous that I want to see the disappearance and return of the rose to life with my own eyes. Paracelsus took it and, speaking, played it.” “You are trusting,” he repeated. “You say I can destroy her?”
“Everyone can destroy her,” said the student.
- You are wrong. Do you really think that a return to non-existence is possible? Do you really think that Adam in Paradise could destroy at least one flower, at least one blade of grass?
“We are not in Paradise,” repeated the young man persistently, “here, under the moon, everything is mortal. Paracelsus stood up.” Where are we then? Do you really think that the Supreme could create something besides Paradise? Do you understand that the Fall is an inability to realize that we are on Paradise?
“The rose may burn,” the student persisted.
“However, there will be a fire in the fireplace,” said Paracelsus.
“As soon as you throw this rose into the flame, you will see that it will disappear and the ashes will be real.”
- I repeat that the rose is immortal and that only its appearance changes. One of my words would be enough for you to see her again.
- One word? The pupil said with disbelief. - The distillation vessel is empty, and the flasks are covered with a layer of dust. How would you bring her back to life? ”Paracelsus glanced at him with regret.“ The distillation vessel is idle, ”he repeated,“ and the flasks are covered with a layer of dust. What I just did not use in my long century; Now I do without them.
- What are you using now? - asked with entranced humility entered.
- The same things that the Almighty used, who created the heavens and the earth, and the invisible Paradise in which we dwell and which is hidden from us by the original sin. I mean the Word, which Kabbalah helps us to know. The student said with complete indifference: “I ask you to show me the disappearance and appearance of the rose.” What will you resort to at the same time - to the distillation vessel or to the Word - for me it does not matter. Paracelsus thought. Then he said:
“If I did that, you could say that everything I saw was just an optical illusion.” Miracle does not bring you the desired faith. Therefore, put a rose. The young man looked at him with disbelief. Then the teacher, raising his voice, said: - And who gave you the right to enter the house of the teacher and demand a miracle? How did you deserve such mercy? ”Entered, seized by excitement, said:“ I recognize my present insignificance. ” I conjure you in the name of the long years of my future obedience to you, to allow me to contemplate the ashes, and then the rose. I won't ask you anything else. What I saw with my own eyes will be proof for me. With a sharp movement, he grabbed the scarlet rose left by Paracels on the lectern and threw it into the fire. The color faded, and a handful of ashes remained. For a while he waited for words and miracles.
Paracelsus was unfazed. He said with unexpected directness: - All doctors and pharmacists of Basel consider me a charlatan. As you can see, they are right. Here is the ashes, which was a rose and which it will no longer be. The young man was ashamed. Paracelsus was a liar or a dreamer, and he, rushing to him, demanded that he recognize the impotence of all his magical science.
')
He knelt and said:
- I committed a misdemeanor. I lacked faith, without which for the Lord there is no piety. So let my eyes see the ashes. I will return when my spirit is strong, become your student, and at the end of the path I will see a rose. He spoke with genuine feeling, but this feeling was caused by compassion for the old teacher, so revered, so affected, so unusual and therefore so insignificant . How dare he, Johann Grisebach, tear off his mask with an unholy hand that covers the void?
Left gold coins would be alms. Leaving, he took them. Paracelsus escorted him to the stairs and told him that in this house he would always be a welcome guest. Both knew that they would not have to meet again.
Paracelsus left alone. Before extinguishing the lamp and sitting comfortably in a chair, he shook a pinch of ashes in a handful, saying the Word quietly.
Rose has risen.
The teacher spoke first. “I am familiar with both the eastern and western types of faces,” he said, not without pride. “But yours is unknown to me.” Who are you and what do you expect from me?
“My name doesn't matter,” answered the one who entered. “For three days and three nights I was on my way before I reached your home.” I want to be your student. I took with me everything that I have. He took off the bag and shook it over the table. The coins were gold, and there were a lot of them. He did it with his right hand. Paracelsus went off to light the lamp. When he returned, he saw that there was a rose in his left hand. Rosa excited him.
He sat back, crossed his fingertips and said: “You hope that I can create a stone that can turn all natural elements into gold, and you offer me gold.” But I'm not looking for gold, and if you are interested in gold, you will never be my student.
“Gold doesn't interest me,” answered the one who entered. “These coins are just proof of my willingness to work.” I want you to teach me about science. I want to walk the path next to you leading to the Stone. Paracelsus slowly said: - The path is the Stone. The place you come from is the Stone. If you do not understand these words, then you still do not understand anything. Each step is a goal. Entered looked at him with disbelief. He clearly said: “So the target is still there?” Paracelsus laughed. “My detractors, as numerous as they are near, assert that they are not, and call me a liar. I have a different opinion on this matter, but I admit that I really seduce myself with illusions. I only know that there is a Road. Silence followed, then the one who entered said:
- I am ready to go through it with you; if necessary - put years on it. Let me beat the desert. Let me at least see the promised land from afar, even if I am not destined to step on it. But before you go, give me one proof of your skill.
- when? - anxiously uttered Paracelsus.
“Immediately,” the pupil replied with unexpected determination. At first they spoke Latin, now in German.
The young man raised a rose in front of him. They say that you can, armed with your science, burn the rose and then resurrect it from the ashes. Let me witness this miracle. That's what I ask you for, and I will give you my life without a trace.
“You are too trusting,” said the teacher. - I do not need gullibility. I need faith. The one who came in stood on his own. “It is because I am incredulous that I want to see the disappearance and return of the rose to life with my own eyes. Paracelsus took it and, speaking, played it.” “You are trusting,” he repeated. “You say I can destroy her?”
“Everyone can destroy her,” said the student.
- You are wrong. Do you really think that a return to non-existence is possible? Do you really think that Adam in Paradise could destroy at least one flower, at least one blade of grass?
“We are not in Paradise,” repeated the young man persistently, “here, under the moon, everything is mortal. Paracelsus stood up.” Where are we then? Do you really think that the Supreme could create something besides Paradise? Do you understand that the Fall is an inability to realize that we are on Paradise?
“The rose may burn,” the student persisted.
“However, there will be a fire in the fireplace,” said Paracelsus.
“As soon as you throw this rose into the flame, you will see that it will disappear and the ashes will be real.”
- I repeat that the rose is immortal and that only its appearance changes. One of my words would be enough for you to see her again.
- One word? The pupil said with disbelief. - The distillation vessel is empty, and the flasks are covered with a layer of dust. How would you bring her back to life? ”Paracelsus glanced at him with regret.“ The distillation vessel is idle, ”he repeated,“ and the flasks are covered with a layer of dust. What I just did not use in my long century; Now I do without them.
- What are you using now? - asked with entranced humility entered.
- The same things that the Almighty used, who created the heavens and the earth, and the invisible Paradise in which we dwell and which is hidden from us by the original sin. I mean the Word, which Kabbalah helps us to know. The student said with complete indifference: “I ask you to show me the disappearance and appearance of the rose.” What will you resort to at the same time - to the distillation vessel or to the Word - for me it does not matter. Paracelsus thought. Then he said:
“If I did that, you could say that everything I saw was just an optical illusion.” Miracle does not bring you the desired faith. Therefore, put a rose. The young man looked at him with disbelief. Then the teacher, raising his voice, said: - And who gave you the right to enter the house of the teacher and demand a miracle? How did you deserve such mercy? ”Entered, seized by excitement, said:“ I recognize my present insignificance. ” I conjure you in the name of the long years of my future obedience to you, to allow me to contemplate the ashes, and then the rose. I won't ask you anything else. What I saw with my own eyes will be proof for me. With a sharp movement, he grabbed the scarlet rose left by Paracels on the lectern and threw it into the fire. The color faded, and a handful of ashes remained. For a while he waited for words and miracles.
Paracelsus was unfazed. He said with unexpected directness: - All doctors and pharmacists of Basel consider me a charlatan. As you can see, they are right. Here is the ashes, which was a rose and which it will no longer be. The young man was ashamed. Paracelsus was a liar or a dreamer, and he, rushing to him, demanded that he recognize the impotence of all his magical science.
')
He knelt and said:
- I committed a misdemeanor. I lacked faith, without which for the Lord there is no piety. So let my eyes see the ashes. I will return when my spirit is strong, become your student, and at the end of the path I will see a rose. He spoke with genuine feeling, but this feeling was caused by compassion for the old teacher, so revered, so affected, so unusual and therefore so insignificant . How dare he, Johann Grisebach, tear off his mask with an unholy hand that covers the void?
Left gold coins would be alms. Leaving, he took them. Paracelsus escorted him to the stairs and told him that in this house he would always be a welcome guest. Both knew that they would not have to meet again.
Paracelsus left alone. Before extinguishing the lamp and sitting comfortably in a chair, he shook a pinch of ashes in a handful, saying the Word quietly.
Rose has risen.
Source: https://habr.com/ru/post/26126/
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