赛斯的转世故事——商人

?此段摘自《灵魂永生》第二十二章  辞别和引介：从我的角度看多维人格的各种面貌

基督在世的时代，我在罗马，名叫米兰尼鄂斯。在那一生当中，我主要的职业是商人，但我好奇心强，我的商旅生涯让我接触到了各种不同的人群。

我矮胖结实，毫无贵族派头，而且不修边幅。我们有一种用干草做的鼻烟。我经常吸，所以经常弄脏衣服。

我住在城市西北部的闹市区，刚好就在你们所谓的市中心旁边。我贩卖的货物中有驴子用的铃铛。这听起来好像不是什么不得了的东西，但对罗马城外的农户们却很有用。每个铃铛的声音都不同，农户就可以根据铃铛的声音，从驴群中认出自己的驴子。

罗马城有许多行业用驴子来驮重物，尤其在比较低贱的行业。铃铛的数量，不同的音高，甚至颜色，都是富有意义的。因此，在城市的喧闹中，穷人和奴隶就可以通过辨认不同的铃声来等待要买的东西——往往是手推车上已经不再新鲜的食物。

铃铛只是我生意的一小部分，大部分生意还是布匹和染料，但铃铛让我着迷。正是因为这个兴趣，我在农村一带的旅行远远多于任何一个精明人该做的。铃铛成为我的嗜好。我的好奇心驱使我去寻找不同的铃铛，也让我接触到了许多本没有机会接触的人。

虽然我没有学识，却很精明灵活。我发现不论是罗马城内还是城外，不同的犹太教派所用的铃铛都各有不同。虽然我是个罗马人，也是一个公民，但我的公民身份对我没有多大意义，除了保证日常生活起码的安全之外。生意场上，我接触的犹太人与罗马人一样多，我的社会地位比他们高不了多少。

罗马人对当时在罗马城内犹太人的数目不太清楚。他们靠猜测。“狂热派”的驴子所挂的铃铛上有一只眼睛的符号。他们偷偷进城，像躲罗马人一样躲开其他犹太人。他们善于讨价还价，常常让我亏得很惨。

雪拉巴是“正义之主”的一个堂兄弟，就我当时的猜测，雪拉巴是个所谓的“神圣”杀手，我从他那里了解了一些关于“正义之主”的事。我在耶路撒冷城外的一个臭驴厩里和他谈话的那晚，他喝醉了。就是他告诉我“眼睛”符号的事儿。他还告诉我那个人——基督——被艾赛尼派的人绑架了。我不相信他。而那时，我也不知道基督是何许人也。

相对而言，在基督活着时，他的存在鲜为人知。坦率地说，我知道某个人是主角，但我不确定是谁。在梦境里，我和其他许多人终于了解了情况。

总的来说，基督徒并不想要罗马籍的皈依者。后来我成为其中一员，而因为我的国籍，我从来没被信任过。我在那出戏里的角色，只不过是让我对基督戏剧的物质基础有所认识而已；在那个时代做了名参与者，无论多么渺小。在你们所说的“许久之后”，在公元三世纪我最终成为一个没那么重要的教皇，又重逢了一些旧友，而且，请允许我幽默一下，再次熟悉了铃铛声（译注：天主教仪式中常用到。）

我的目的并不是要详述我的种种前世，而是用它们来强调某些要点。首先，我曾经多次身为男人和女人，我也曾深深专注于各种职业，但总是抱着学习的念头，以便我能教别人。因此，我在人世生活方面有着坚实的背景，这是我目前“工作”的先修课程。

我并没扮演过任何崇高的历史人物，却对日常生活中温馨亲密的细节、对人们为成功所做的平凡奋斗、对爱的需求很有经验。我学习到父亲对儿子、儿子对父亲、丈夫对妻子、妻子对丈夫那种无以言表的切望，而一头栽进亲密的人际关系网中。在你们所定义的历史之前，我就是个鲁曼尼亚人，后来生于亚特兰提斯。

用你们的历史书作参考，我在穴居时代回来，做了一个“说法者”。其实我一直都是个“说法者”，不管我做什么。我曾在丹麦做香料商人，在那儿我认识了鲁柏和约瑟。我有几生是黑人——一次在现在的埃塞俄比亚，一次在土耳其。

我做僧侣的几世是在我做教皇之后，其中一世，我是“西班牙宗教裁判所”的受害者。我做女人的经验很丰富，从平凡的荷兰老姑娘到圣经里大卫时代的高级妓女，到有一堆孩子的卑微母亲，不一而足。

In the historical time of Christ, I was a man called Millenius, in Rome. In that life my main occupation was that of a merchant, but I was a highly curious gentleman, and my travels gave me access to many different groups of people.

Physically I was round and stout, not at all patrician in my bearing, and given to untidiness in my dress. We had a type of snuff made from a certain kind of straws I used it constantly, often spilling some upon my robe.

My house was in the busiest, northwestern part of the city, just beyond what you would call the heart of town. Among my wares I sold bells for donkeys. This may not sound like a very grand product, and yet families on the farms outside of Rome found these highly useful. Each had a special sound, and a family could tell by the sound of the bell their own donkey from innumerable similar ones.

Donkeys were also used in many businesses within Rome itself as carriers of burden, particularly in the lower occupations. The number of bells, their particular pitch, even the colors, all had meaning. In the tumult of the city the particular bells could be recognized, therefore, by the poor and by the slaves who waited to buy products — often wilted foods from the laden carts.

The bells were only a small portion of my business, which dealt largely with cloths and dyes, but they fascinated me. Because of my interest in them I did far more traveling about the countryside and the region than any prudent man should. The bells became my hobby. My curiosity drove me to journey in search of different kinds of bells, and led me into contact with many people I would not otherwise have encountered.

While I was not literate, I was shrewd and lively of mind. Special bells, I discovered, were used by various sects of Jews, both within Rome and without. While I was a Roman and a citizen, my citizenship meant little except for providing me with minimal safety as I went about my daily way, and in my business I encountered as many Jews as Romans. I was not too far above them socially. 

The Romans had no clear idea of the number of Jews in Rome at that time. They went by guesswork. The bells on donkeys belonging to the Zealots had upon them the symbol of an eye. They came secretly into town, hiding as much from other Jews as from Romans. They were good bargainers and often did me out of more than I deserved to lose.

I learned about the Lord of Righteousness from a cousin of his named Sheraba—who was, as clearly as I could figure out at the time, a “sacred” assassin. He was drunk the night I spoke to him in a stinking stall outside of Jerusalem. It was he who told me about the symbol of the eye. He also told me that the man, Christ, was kidnapped by the Essenes. I did not believe him. Nor at the time he told me did I know who Christ was.

At the time that Christ lived his existence was known to very few, comparatively speaking. To put it bluntly  I knew that someone had the ball, but I was not certain of the person. In dream states, the situation finally became known to me and to many others.

The Christians, generally speaking, did not want Roman converts. I was later one of these, and because of my nationality was never trusted. My part in that drama was simply to acquaint myself with its physical foundation; to be a participant, however small, in that era. Much later in your terms I would end up as a minor pope in the third century, meeting again some of those I had known — and, if you will forgive a humorous note, once more familiar with the sound of bells.

It is not my purpose to go into my past existences in any great detail, but to use them to make certain points. First of all, I have been many times both man and woman, and I have immersed myself in various occupations, but always with the idea of learning so that I could teach. I had a firm background in physical existence, therefore, as a prerequisite for my present “work.”

I did not play the part of any towering personality of historical note, but became experienced in the homey and intimate details of daily life, the normal struggle for achievement, the need for love. I learned the unutterable yearning of father for son, son for father, husband for wife, wife for husband, and fell headlong into the intimate webs of human relationships. Before your idea of history, I was a Lumanian, and was later born in Atlantis.

Using your historical reference. I returned at the time of the cavemen, operating as a Speaker. Now I have always been a Speaker, regardless of my physical occupation. I have been a spice merchant in Denmark, where I knew Ruburt and Joseph. In several lives I was black— once in what is now called Ethiopia, and once in Turkey.

My lives as monks followed my experience as a pope, and in one of these, I was a victim of the Spanish Inquisition. My experience in female lives varied from that of a plain Dutch spinster to a courtesan at the time of the biblical David, to several existences as a humble mother with children.

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