To his excellency the alchemist of the lights, friend of the great Isaac,
writer from afar, mystic of strange places and utter terror to all who serve,
From your humble and obedient servant, Marmion, faithful attendant of Isaac,
he who buries the jars and sees the lights, greeting:
Your humble servant begs to present you with the dread news that Isaac has
gone to be with his Lord and Savior. He was in the 93rd year of his
pilgrimage, and his mind was not dimmed until the day he died. He bade me write
to you of the manner of his death, that you might know all things. He charged me
most strictly with these words.
Upon his death bed, he called for paper and pen, and had me write. His last
message was to you, and I record it for your eyes alone. He bade me destroy all
copies but this, saying that you would understand the reason for this strange
proceeding.
He counsels you by Almighty God to keep the faith! He fears lest the demons
of your city overwhelm you by the cares of this world. He bids you be generous
in charity, frequent in visiting the sick and those in prison, even those
prisoner of their own sins. Most of all he bids you be instant in prayer and
frequent in the reading of the Holy Scripture.
He begs you by the grace of Almighty God that you destroy your device with
all haste and use it no more. If you do not, he fears that much evil will come.
He bade me tell you that he met death with joy, as one returning to a home
long lost. This is so; I, Marmion, attended his death bed.
He was a good man and a wise master. His powers of alchemy he used for the
sick; many owe him much. He was generous to the poor and cared for those who
served him, of whom I am the least. Those who knew him best mourn him most. He
spoke of this, and bids you not grieve overlong. He commanded me to say this: he
sits at the gate of heaven day by day, awaiting your coming. Do not fail him!
By the grace of the God he served I bid you farewell. I, Marmion, write this
with my own hand, that you may know that all is true.
