At this Greene let out his usual rumbling laugh and replied that he was no ghost but Bartlett Greene made whole, and that he came not from another realm but from our present world, except that he lived on the other side: there was no “world above”, only this one world, but that had many – countless – aspects and reticulations; the one where he now resided was, admittedly, somewhat different from mine.
These words are a mere blind groping after the great clarity with which all seemed plain before me in those half-sleeping moments of spiritual awareness; for the truth of what Greene told me was steeped in a sunlit radiance, so that the mysteries of space and time and the essence of all things lay open before me. In that night Greene revealed to me secret knowledge of my self and my future, all of which, down to the tiniest jot and tittle, is preserved for ever in my memory.
In that night I was still in doubt, thinking it was some phantasm come to mock me, but since then so many of his prophecies have come to pass in ways that defy all reason, that it would now be foolish of me not to believe that those that remain unfulfilled shall yet bear fruit. In all this there is one thing I do not understand: what can be the reason that Greene looks down on me with such favour and guides me in the paths of plenty, for to this day he has nothing required against the law or against my God – if that were so I would fling a thunderous “apage Satanas” in his face that would send him tumbling back down to the very jaws of Hell to which, in his pride, he thought to drag me down.
His way cannot be my way; the moment I perceive that he seeks my soul’s damnation, I shall put him behind me for all eternity! –
To my pressing question Greene replied that I would be freed on the morning of the morrow. And when in my disbelief I pressed him more urgently, for all likelihood spoke against his assertion, and tried to show him that what he had promised was impossible, his eerie laugh tumbled out as loud as ever as he said:
“Brother Dee, thou’rt a fool! Seest the sun and wouldst deny the eye! As thou art a beginner in the Art, perhaps a stone wrenched from the earth will say more to thee than the living word. Take my Gift, when thou awakest, and see what thy spirit will not accept.”
The main part of the instructions that followed concerned the conquest of Greenland and the inconceivable importance of this enterprise for my whole future existence. And I will not conceal that at later visits – his appearances have become frequent – he does most truthfully and solemnly aver that this is the way to achieve my highest, my longed for goal, for the Crown of Greenland is assured me; and I do begin to understand the signs! – – When I awoke from my vision the waning moon stood high in the sky so that a bluish-white shaft of light shone down through the tiny window. I stepped into the moonbeam, hastily drew out the polished coal and held one of its dark gleaming surfaces out in the ray from the heavenly body. It flickered with bluish, deep purple reflections and for a long time there was nothing more to be discerned. But at the same time a wondrous peace, such as I could feel in every fibre of my body, spread through me and the black crystal in my hand stopped flickering as my fingers, like every part of me, became strong and steady.
Then the light on the coal mirror became iridescent. The surfaces were veiled with milky, opalescent clouds which dispersed again. Finally the clear contour of a bright image became discernible; at first it was tiny, as if I were peering through a spyhole at dwarves playing in bright moonshine. But soon the picture began to grow in breadth and in depth until the vision overflowed – it was intangible, and yet it was, too, as if I were standing there myself. And I saw – – – (scorch mark)
For the second time there is a section of the diary – not a very long one, it is true – that has been carefully destroyed. As far as I can judge, it was the hand of my ancestor that rendered the passage illegible. It seems that soon after he had written it down he must have been struck by the thought that here was a secret he would not want revealed to unwelcome readers. After his experiences in the Tower he would be sensitive to such dangers. However, the fragment of a letter has been placed in the diary between these pages. Obviously my cousin, John Roger, must have come across it somewhere in his researches and inserted it here, as it is prefaced by a note in his hand:
Sole remaining fragment of a document relating to the secret of John Dee’s liberation from the Tower.
In its present state, it is not clear whom the letter is addressed to, but that is irrelevant; what is important is the light the fragment throws on John Dee’s life. It indicates that it was due to the intervention of Princess Elizabeth
