Savitri’s affront cannot be taken lightly and she must be chastised for that. In fact she has committed a double sin, of harbouring spiritual superiority and of the will-to-be even in the Nihil. In that heavy and bare darkness, that terrible darkness she must atone for it. She does it and moves through the dream-ideal. There is her Satyavan, wonderful and lovely and charming. In it all pain becomes bliss. But then it could very well be that this dream-ideal was nothing but Savitri’s own yearning for Satyavan, an imagination. She wanted to make him the centre of her joy and it is that which has taken this form. However, in the existence of Death even this stands at once nullified. The occult fact is that this dream-ideal cannot be safe in this mortal world. Savitri should go to the root of the matter and remove the cause of the failure. It lies in Death and therefore he must go. Indeed, he becomes negatively a touchstone for the Divinity’s presence in Matter.

To imagine that Truth can exist on earth, that this corporeal body can house God is, according to Death, nothing but a disorientation, a hallucination. But for Savitri this is an indisputable reality. She is certain that Spirit and Nature can and ought to come together. Above the climbing hierarchy are ever present Truth and Love and Bliss and Beauty, and to Death she tells so. The descent of that Truth can make this earthly life divine. But Death is least impressed. He insists on Savitri revealing to him nothing but her conquering power. At once a mighty transformation comes upon her. The force of Mahakundalini rushes into her, and Darkness sees God’s living Reality. She commands Death to release the soul of Satyavan. Death resists, but he is consumed by her fire. There, waiting on the inscrutable Will, stand alone Satyavan and Savitri,—but separated by a translucent wall.

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