116 
MAGICK WITHOUT TEARS 
that the minutest details do not escape us. And upon the root 
of one flower he pours acid so that the root writhes as if in 
torture. And another he cuts, and the shriek is like the shriek 
of a Mandrake, torn up by the roots. And another he sears 
with fire, and yet another he anoints with oil. 
And I said: Heavy is the labour, but great indeed is the 
reward. 
And the young man answered me: He shall not see the 
reward; he tendeth the garden. 
And I said: What shall come unto him? 
And he said: This thou canst not know, nor is it revealed 
by the letters that are the totems of the stars, but only by the 
stars. 
And he says to me, quite disconnectedly: The man of 
earth is the adherent. The lover giveth his life unto the work 
among men. The hermit goeth solitary, and giveth only of his 
light unto men. 
And I ask him: Why does he tell me that? 
And he says: I tell thee not. Thou tellest thyself, for thou 
hast pondered thereupon for many days, and hast not found 
light. And now that thou art called NEMO, the answer to 
every riddle that thou hast not found shall spring up in thy 
mind, unsought. Who can tell upon what day a flower shall 
bloom? 
And thou shalt give thy wisdom unto the world, and that 
shall be thy garden. And concerning time and death, thou hast 
naught to do with these things. For though a precious stone 
be hidden in the sand of the desert, it shall not heed for the 
wind of the desert, although it be but sand. For the worker 
of works hath worked thereupon; and because it is clear, it is 
invisible; and because it is hard, it moveth not. 
All these words are heard by everyone that is called 
NEMO. 
And with that doth he apply himself to 
understanding. And he must understand the virtue of the 
waters of death, and he must understand the virtue of the sun 
and of the wind, and of the worm that turneth the earth, and