The Rudolf Steiner Archive

A room for meditation. The background is a great purple curtain. The scene is purple in colour with a large yellow pentagonal lamp suspended from the ceiling. No other furniture or ornaments are in the room except the lamp and one chair. Benedictus, Johannes, Maria, and a child.

Maria:
I bring to thee this child who needs some word
From out thy mouth.

Benedictus:
My child, henceforth each eve
Thou shalt come unto me to hear the word
That shall fill full thy soul ere thou dost tread
The realm of souls in sleep. Wilt thou do this?

Child:
Most gladly will I come.

Benedictus:
This very eve
Fill thy soul full ere sleep embraceth thee,
With strength from these few words: ‘The powers of light
Bear me aloft unto the spirit's home.’
(Maria, having taken the child away, returns.)

Maria:
And now, that this child's destiny doth flow
Harmoniously through future days beneath
The shadow of thy gracious fatherhood,
I too may claim my leader's kind advice,
Who am its mother, not by bond of blood
But through the mighty power of destiny.
For thou hast shown to me the way wherein
I had to guide its footsteps from that day,
When I discovered it before my door
Left by its unknown mother desolate.
And wonder-working proved themselves those rules
Whereby thou madest me train my foster-child.
All powers, that deep in body and in soul
Lay hidden, issued forth to light and life:
Clear proof it was that all thy counselling
Sprang from the realm which sheltered this child's soul
Before it built its body's covering.
We saw its early promise blossom forth
And radiate more brightly each new day;
Thou dost know well how hard it was for me
To gain the child's affection, at the first.
It grew up 'neath my care, and yet nought else
Save habit chained its soul at first to mine.
It only realized and felt that I
Gave it the nurture and the food that served
The needs of body and the growth of soul.
Then came the time when in the child-like heart
There dawned the love for her who fostered it.
An outer incident brought forth this change—
The visit of the seeress to our group.
Gladly the child did go about with her
And soon did learn full many a beauteous word
Steeped in the mystic charm that graced her speech.
Then came the moment when her ecstasy
Descended on our friend with magic power.
The child could see her eyes, strange smouldering light,
And, terrified unto the vital core,
The young soul found itself.

In her dismay she fled unto mine arms;
And from that hour did grow her love for me.
Since that same time she doth accept from me
The gifts of life with her full consciousness
Not with blind instinct: aye, and since that day
When this young heart first quivered into warmth,
Whene'er her gaze met mine with loving glance,
Thy wisdom's treasures of their fruitage failed,
And much already ripe hath withered up.
I saw appear in her those tokens strange
That proved so terrible unto my friend.

A dark enigma am I to myself,
And grow still darker. Thou wilt not deny
To solve for me life's fearful questionings
I Why do I mar the life of friend and child,
When I in love attempt to work on them
According to the dictates of my heart
By spirit-lore instructed and inspired?
Oft hast thou taught me this exalted truth—
Illusion's veil o'erspreads life's surfaces—
Yet must I see with greater clarity
Why I must bear this heavy destiny,
That seems so cruel and that works such harm.

Benedictus:
Within our circle there is formed a knot
Of threads that Karma spins world-fashioning.
Thy sufferings, my friend, are links in chains,
Forged by the hand of destiny, whereby
The deeds of Gods unite with human lives.—

When in life's pilgrimage I had attained
That rank which granted me the dignity
To serve with counsel in the spirit-spheres,
A godlike Being did draw nigh to me,
Who would descend into the realms of earth,
And dwell there, veiled in form of flesh, as man.
For just at this one turning-point of time
The Karma of mankind made this demand.
For each great step in world-development
Is only possible when Gods do stoop
To link themselves with human destiny.
And this new spirit-sight that needs must grow
And germinate henceforth in souls of men
Can only be unfolded when a God
Doth plant the seed within some human heart.
My task it was to find that human soul
Which worthy seemed to take within itself
The powerful Seed of God. I had to join
The deed of heaven to some human lot.
My spirit's eye then sought, and fell on thee.
Thy course of life had fitted thee to be
The mediator in salvation's work.
Through many former lives thou hadst acquired
Receptiveness for all the greatest things
That human hearts can e'er experience.
Within thy tender soul thou didst bring forth,
As spirit heritage, the noble gift
Of beauty, joined to virtue's loftiest claim:
And that which thine eternal Self had formed
And brought to being through thy birth on earth
Did reach ripe fruitage when thy years were few.—
Thou didst not scale steep spirit-heights too soon,
Nor grew thy yearning for the spirit-land
Before thou hadst the full enjoyment known
Of harmless pleasures in the world of sense.
Anger and love thy soul did learn to know
When thy thoughts dwelt yet far from spirit-life.
Nature in all her beauty to enjoy,
And pluck the fruits of art,—these didst thou strive
To make thy life's sole content and its wealth.
Merry thy laughter, as a child can laugh
Who hath not known as yet life's shadowed fears.
Thus thou didst learn to understand life's joy,
And mourn in sadness, each in its own time,
Before thy dawning conscience grew to seek
Of sorrow and of happiness the cause.
A ripened fruit of many lives that soul,
That enters earth's domains, and shows such moods.
Its childlike nature is the blossoming
And not the ground-root of its character.
And such a soul alone was I to choose
As mediator for the God, who sought
The power to work within our human world.
And now thou learnest that thy nature must
Transform itself into its opposite,
When it flows forth to other human souls.
The spirit in thee ripens whatsoe'er
In human nature can attain the realm
Of vast eternity; and much it slays
That is but part of transitory realms.
And yet the sacrifices of such deaths
Are but the seeds of immortality;
All that which blossoms forth from death below
Must grow unto the higher life above.

Maria:
E'en so it is with me. Thou giv'st me light:
But light that doth deprive me of my sight,
And sunder me from mine own self in twain.
Then do I seem some spirit's instrument—
No longer master of myself. No more
Do I endure that erstwhile form of mine
Which only is a mask and not the truth.

Johannes:
O friend, what ails thee? Vanished is the light
That filled thine eye: as marble is thy frame.
I grasp thine hand and find it cold as death.

Benedictus:
My son, full many trials have come to thee;
And now thou stand'st before life's hardest test.
Thou seest the carnal covering of thy friend;
But her true self doth float in spirit-spheres
Before mine eyes.

Johannes:
See! Her lips move; she speaks.

Maria:
Thou gav'st me clearness yet this clearness throws
A veil of darkness round on every side.
I curse thy clearness; and I curse thee too,
Who didst make tool of me for weird wild arts
Whereby thou willedst to deceive mankind.
No doubt at any moment hitherto
Had crossed my mind of heights thy spirit reached;
But now one single moment doth suffice
To tear all faith in thee from out my heart.
Those spirit-beings thou art subject to,
I now must recognize as hellish fiends.
Others I had to mislead and deceive
Because at first I was deceived by thee.—
But I will flee unto dim distances,
Where not a sound of thee shall reach mine ears;
Yet near enough that thy soul may be reached
By bitter curses framed by these my lips.
For thou didst rob my blood of all its fire,
That thou mightst sacrifice to thy false god
That which was rightly mine and mine alone.
But now this same blood's fire shall thee consume.
Thou madest me trust in vain imaginings;
And that this might be so, thou first didst make
A pictured falsehood of my very self.
Often had I to mark how from my soul
Each deed and thought turned to its opposite;
So now doth turn what once was love for thee,
Into the fire of wild and bitter hate.
Through all worlds will I seek to find that fire
Which can consume thee—I curse—Ah, woe!

Johannes:
Who speaketh here? I do not see my friend.
I hear instead some gruesome being speak.

Benedictus:
Thy friend's soul hovers in the heights above.
Only her mortal image hath she left
Here with us: and where'er a human form
Is found bereft of soul, there is the room
Sought by the enemy, the foe of good,
To enter into realms perceptible,
And find some carnal form through which to speak.
Just such an adversary spake e'en now,
Who would destroy the work imposed on me
For thee, my son, and millions yet unborn.
Were I to deem these wild anathemas,
Which our friend's shell did utter here and now,
Aught else but some grim tempter's cunning skill,
Thou durst not follow more my leadership.
The enemy of Good stood by my side,
And thou hast seen into the darkness plunged
All that is temporal of that dear form,
For whom, my son, thy whole love burns and glows.
Since through her mouth spirits spake oft to thee,
The Karma of the world could not restrain
Hell's princes also speaking thus through her.
Now only mayst thou seek her very soul
And learn her nature's inmost verity;
For she shall form for thee the prototype
Of that new higher life of humankind
To which thou dost aspire to raise thyself.
Her soul hath soared aloft to spirit-heights,
Where every man may find his being's source
Which springs to life and fullness in himself.
Thou too shalt follow her to spirit-realms,
And see her in the Temple of the Sun.—
Within this circle there is formed a knot
Of threads which Karma spins, world fashioning.
My son, since thou hast now attained thus far,
Thou shalt still further pierce beyond the veil.
I see thy star in fullest splendour shine.
There is no place within the realm of sense
For strife, such as men wage when they do strive
And struggle after consecration's gift.
Whate'er the outer world of sense begets
Of riddles soluble by intellect,
Whate'er this world engenders in man's heart
Born tho' it be of love or bitter hate
And howsoever direful its results:
The spirit-seeker must attain the power
In all these things to stand unmoved, serene,
Casting his gaze all unperturbed and calm
Upon the scene where such contentions rage.
For him must other powers unfold themselves
Which are not found upon this field of strife.
So didst thou need to fight to prove thy soul
In combat such as comes to him alone,
Who finds himself accoutred for such powers
As do belong unto the spirit-worlds.
And had these powers found thee not ripe enough
To tread the path of knowledge, they needs must
Have maimed thy powers of feeling, ere thou daredst
To know all that which now is known to thee.
The Beings, who can gaze into world-depths,
Lead on those men, who would attain the heights,
First to that summit whence it may be shown
Whether there lies in them the power to reach
To conscious sight within the spirit-realms.
And those in whom such powers are found to lie
Are straightway from the world of sense set free.
The others all must wait their season due.
But thou, thou hast preserved thy Self, my son,
When Powers on high stirred to its depths thy soul,
And potent spirits shrouded thee with fear.
Right powerfully thy Self hath fought its way
E'en though thy very heart was torn by doubts,
That willed to thrust thee into darksome depths.
True pupil of my teaching hast thou been,
First since that hour, so fraught with fate for thee,
When thou didst learn to doubt thy very self,
And gavest up thyself as wholly lost,
But yet the strength within thee held thee fast.
Then might I give thee of my treasured store
Of wisdom, whence to draw the strength to stand
Assured, e'en when mistrusting thine own self.
Such was the wisdom which thou didst attain
More steadfast than the faith once given to thee.
Ripe wast thou found, and thou may'st be set free.
Thy friend hath gone before and waits for thee
In spirit-worlds, and thou shalt find her there.
I can but add this guidance for thee now:
Kindle the full power of thy soul with words
Which through my lips shall grant to thee the key
To spirit-heights, and they will lead thee on
When naught else leads, that eyes of sense can see.
Receive them in the fulness of thy heart:
‘The weaving essence of the light streams forth
Through depths of space to fill the world with life;
Love's grace doth warm the centuries of time
To call forth revelation of all worlds.
And spirit-messengers come forth to wed
The weaving essence of creative light
With revelation of the souls of men:
And that man, who can wed to both of these
His very Self, he lives in spirit-heights.’
O spirits, who are visible to man,
Quicken with life the soul of this our son:
From inmost depths may there stream forth for him
That which can fill his soul with spirit-light.
From inmost depths may there resound for him
That which can wholly wake in him his Self
To the creative joy of spirit-life.

A Spirit-Voice behind the stage:
To founts of worlds primeval
His surging thoughts do mount;—
What as shadow he hath thought
What as fancy he hath lived
Soars up beyond the world of form and shape;
On whose fulness pondering
Mankind in shadow dreams,
O'er whose fulness gazing forth
Mankind in fancy lives.

Curtain

A subterranean rock-temple: a hidden site of the Mysteries of the Hierophants.

At the right of the stage, Johannes is seen in deep meditation.

Benedictus (in the East):
Ye, who have been companions unto me
In the domain of everlasting life,
Here in your midst I stand to-day to ask
The help of which I stand in need from you
To weave the thread of destiny for one,
Who from our midst must now receive the light.
Through bitter trials and sorrows hath he passed,
And hath in deepest agony of soul
Prepared the way to consecrate his life
And thus attain to knowledge of the truth.
Accomplished now the task assigned to me,
As spirit-messenger, to bring to men
The treasured wisdom of this temple's shrine.
And now, ye brethren, 'tis your sacred task
To bring my work to full accomplishment.
I showed to him the light that proved the guide
To his first vision of the spirit-world,
But that this vision may be turned to truth
Your work must needs be added unto mine.
My words proceed from mine own mouth alone,
But through your lips world-spirits do sound forth.

Theodosius (in the South):
Thus speaks the power of love, which bindeth worlds
And filleth beings with the breath of life:—
Let warmth flow in his heart that he may grasp
How by the sacrificing of that vain
Illusion of his personality
He doth draw near the spirit of the world.
His sight from sleep of sense thou hast set free;
Love's warmth will wake the spirit in his soul;
His Self from carnal covering thou hast drawn;
And love itself will crystallize his soul
That it may be a mirror to reflect
All that doth happen in the spirit-world.
Love too will give him strength to feel himself
A spirit, and will fashion thus his ear
That it can hear and know the spirit-speech.

Romanus (in the West):
Nor are my words the revelation
Of mine own self. Through me the world-will speaks.
And since thou hast thus raised unto the power
To live in spirit-realms the man to thee
Entrusted, now this power shall lead him forth
Beyond the bounds of space and ends of time.
To those realms shall he pass wherein do work
Creative spirits, who shall there reveal
Themselves to him; demanding from him deeds;
And willingly will he perform their work.
The purposes of those who mould the worlds
Shall fill his soul with life; there too the earth's
Primeval sources shall enspirit him;
World potencies shall there empower him;
The mights of spheres shall there enlighten him,
And rulers of the worlds fill him with fire.

Retardus (in the North):
From the foundation of the world ye have
Been forced to suffer me within your midst.
So must ye also to my words give ear
In your deliberations here to-day.
Some little time must surely yet elapse
Before ye can fulfil and bring to pass
What ye have set forth in such beauteous words.
No sign as yet hath come to us from earth
That she doth long for new initiates.
So long as this spot, where we council hold,
Hath not been trodden by the feet of those
Who, uninitiated, yet have power
The spirits to release from things of sense,
So long the task is mine to check your zeal.
First must they bring us message that the earth
Doth seem in need of revelations new.
For this cause hold I back your spirit-light
Within this temple, lest it may bring harm
Instead of health to souls that are not ripe.
Out of myself I give to man on earth
That faculty which lets the truths of sense
Appear to him the highest, just so long
As spirit wisdom would but blind his eyes.
Therefore let simple faith be still his guide
In matters of the spirit: let his will
Its hidden inspiration still receive
From dim desires which feel their way through life.

Romanus:
From the foundation of the world we have
Been forced to suffer thee within our midst.
But now at length the time hath run its course
That was allotted to such work as thine.
The world-will in me feels that they approach—

(Felix Balde appears in his earthly shape: the Other Maria as a soul form from out of the rock.)

—Who, unitiated, can release
The spirit from the outward show of sense.
No more 'tis granted thee to check our steps.
They near our temple of their own free will
And bring to thee this message, that they wish
To help our spirit labours, joined with us.
They found themselves till now not yet prepared
For union, since they clung to the belief
That seership must stand from intellect aloof.
Now have they learned whither mankind is led
By reason, which, when severed from true sight,
Doth err and wander in the depths of worlds.
They now will speak to thee of fruits which needs
Must ripen through thy power in human souls.

Retardus:
Ye, who unconsciously have forwarded
My work till now, ye shall still further help—
If ye will distant keep from all that doth
Belong unto my realm and that alone;
Then shall ye surely find a place reserved
For you to work as hitherto ye worked.

Felix Balde:
A power, which speaks from very depths of earth
Unto my spirit, hath commanded me
To come unto this consecrated place;
Since it desires to speak to you through me
Of all its bitter sorrow and its need.

Benedictus:
My friend, then tell us now how thou hast learned
The woe of world-depths in thine own soul's core.

Felix Balde:
The light that shines in men as learning's fruit
Must needs give nourishment to all the powers
Which serve world-cycles in the earth's dark depths.
Already now a long time have they starved
Well-nigh entirely reft of sustenance.
For that which grows to-day in human brains
Doth only serve the surface of the earth,
And doth not penetrate unto its depths.
Some strange new superstition now doth haunt
These clever human heads: they turn their gaze
Unto primeval origins of earth
And will but spectres see in spirit spheres,
Thought out by vain illusion of the sense.
A merchant surely would consider mad
A purchaser, who would speak thus to him:
‘The mists and fog, that hover in the vale,
Can certainly condense to solid gold;
And with such gold thou shalt be paid thy debt.’
The merchant will not willingly await
To have his ducats made from fog and mist;
And yet whene'er his soul doth thirst to find
Solution of the riddles set by life,
Should science offer him such payments then
For spirit needs and debts, right willingly
Will he accept whole solar systems built
Out of primeval world-containing fog.
The teacher who discovers some unknown
And luckless layman, who would fain presume
To heights of science or of scholarship
Without examinations duly passed
Will surely threaten him with his contempt.
Yet science doth not doubt that without proof
And without spirit earth's primeval beasts
Could change themselves to men by their own power.

Theodosius:
Why dost thou not thyself reveal to men
The sources of this light of thine, which streams
Forth from thy soul with such resplendent ray?

Felix Balde:
A fancy-monger and a man of dreams
They call me, who are well-disposed to me:
But others think of me as some dull fool
Who, all untaught of them, doth follow out
His own peculiar bent of foolishness:

Retardus:
Thou show'st already how untaught thou art
By the simplicity of this thy speech:
Thou dost not know that men of science have
Sufficient shrewdness to make just the same
Objection to themselves;—
And if they make it not they well know why.

Felix Balde:
I know full well that they are shrewd enough
To understand the objections I have voiced,
But not so shrewd as to believe in them.

Theodosius:
What must we do that we may forthwith give
The powers of earth what they do need so much?

Felix Balde:
So long as on the earth men only heed
Such men as these, who wish not to recall
Their spirit's primal source, so long will starve
The mineral forces buried in earth's depths.

The Other Maria:
I gather, brother Felix, from thy words,
That thou dost think the time hath now expired
When we did serve earth's purposes the best
By showing forth from depths of our own life
Though uninitiate, by wisdom's light
The living way of spirit and of love.
In thee the spirits of the earth arose
To give thee light without the lore of books:
In me did love hold sway, the love that dwells
And works within the life of men on earth.
And now we wish to join our brethren here,—
Who, consecrate, within this temple serve,—
And bring forth fruitful work in human souls.

Benedictus:
If ye unite your labour now with us,
Then must the consecrated work succeed.
The wisdom which I gave unto my son
Will surely blossom forth in him as power.

Theodosius:
If ye unite your labour now with us,
Then must the thirst for sacrifice arise.
And through the soul life of whoever seeks
The spirit-path, will breathe the warmth of love.

Romanus:
If ye unite your labour now with us,
Then must the fruits of spirit ripen fast.
Deeds will spring up, which through the spirit's work
Will blossom from the soul's discipleship.

Retardus:
If they unite their labour now with you
What shall become of me? My deeds will prove
Fruitless to those who would the spirit seek.

Benedictus:
Then wilt thou change to other forms of being:
Since now thou hast accomplished all thy work.

Theodosius:
Henceforth thou wilt live on in sacrifice
If thou dost freely sacrifice thyself.

Romanus:
Thou wilt bear fruit on earth in human deeds
If I myself may tend the fruits for thee.

Johannes (speaking out of his meditation, as in the previous scene):
The brethren in the temple showed themselves
To my soul-sight, in feature like
To men who in the world of sense I know.
Benedictus alone, was like himself in Spirit.
He who stood on his left seemed like that man
Who through the feelings only would draw nigh
The spirit-realms. The third resembled him,
Who doth but recognize the powers of life
When they show forth through wheels and outward works.
The fourth I do not know. The wife who saw
The spirit's light after her husband's death,
I recognized in her own inmost being.
And Felix Balde came just as in life.

The curtain falls slowly

Same room as for Scene 1. Johannes at an easel, before which Capesius, Maria, and Strader are also seated.

Johannes:
I think those are the final touches now,
And feel that I may call my work complete.
Especial pleasure hath it given me
Thy nature to interpret through mine art.

Capesius:
This picture is a marvel unto me,
But its creator still more wonderful.
For naught, which men like me have up till now
Considered possible, can be compared
With this change that hath taken place in thee.
One only can believe, when actual sight
Compels belief. We met three years ago;
And I was then allowed to count myself
A visitor in that community,
In which thou didst attain thine excellence.
A man of sad demeanour wast thou then,
Witness each glance and aspect of thy face.
Once did I hear a lecture in thy group,
And at the end felt urged to add thereto
Words that were wrenched with pain from out my soul.
I spake in such a mood wherein one doth
Think almost always of oneself alone;
And none the less my gaze did ever rest
Upon that painter, whelmed 'neath sorrow's load,
Who sat and kept still silence, far apart.
Silent he pondered in a fashion strange,
And one might well believe that he heard not
A single word of all those spoken near.
The sorrow unto which he gave himself
Seemed of itself to have a separate life;
It seemed as though the man himself heard not,
But rather that his very grief had ears:
It is perhaps not inappropriate
To say he was by sorrow quite obsessed.
Soon after that day did we meet again,
And even then there was a change in thee;
For happiness did beam forth from thine eyes;
Within thy nature power did dwell again,
And noble fire did ring in all thy words.
Thou, didst express a wish to me that day
Which seemed to me most strange and curious—
To be my pupil didst thou then desire.
of a truth thou hast throughout these years
With utmost diligence absorbed thyself
In all I had to say on world events.
And, as we grew more intimate, I then
Did know the riddle of thine artist life,
And each new picture proved a fresh surprise.
My thought in former days was ill-inclined
To soar to worlds beyond the life of sense—
Not that I doubted them—but yet it seemed
Presumptuous to draw near with eager mind.
But now I must admit that thou hast changed
My point of view. I hear thee oft repeat
That thine artistic skill depends alone
Upon the gift to function consciously
In other worlds; and that thou canst implant
Naught in thy works but what thou hast first seen
In spirit worlds: indeed thy works do show
How spirit stands revealed in actual life.

Strader:
Never so little have I understood
Thy speech; for surely in all artists' work
The living spirit is thus manifest.
How therefore doth thy friend, Thomasius,
Differ from other masters in his art?

Capesius:
Ne'er have I doubted that the spirit shows
Itself in man, who none the less remains
Unconscious of its nature. He creates
Through this same spirit, but perceives it not.
Thomasius however doth create
In worlds of sense what he in spirit-realms
Can consciously behold; and many times
Hath he assured me, that, for men like him,
No other method of creation serves.

Strader:
Thomasius is a marvel unto me,
And freely I admit this picture here
Hath first revealed to me in his true self
Capesius, whom I thought I knew full well.
In thought I knew him; but this work doth show
How little of him I had really known.

Maria:
How comes it, doctor, that thou canst admire
The greatness of this work so much, and yet
Canst still deny the greatness of its source?

Strader:
What hath my wonder at the artist's work
In common with my faith in spirit-sight?

Maria:
One can indeed admire a work, e'en when
One hath no faith in that which is its source;
Yet in this case there would be naught to rouse
Our admiration, had this artist not
Trodden the path that led to spirit-life.

Strader:
Yet still we must not say that whoso'er
Doth to the spirit wholly give himself
Will consciously be guided by its power.
The spirit power creates in artists' souls,
E'en as it works within the trees and stones:
Yet is the tree not conscious of itself.
And only he, who sees it from without,
Can recognize the spirit's work therein.
So too each artist lives within his work
And not in spiritual experience.
But when mine eyes now on this picture fall,
I do forget all that allures to thought;
The very soul-force of my friend doth gleam
From out those eyes, and yet—they are but paint!
The seeker's thoughtfulness dwells on that brow;
And e'en his noble warmth of words doth stream
From all the colour-tones with which thy brush
Hath solved the mystery of portraiture.
Ah, these same colours, surely they are flat!
And yet they are not; they seem visible
Only to vanish straightway from my sight.
The moulding too doth seem like colour's work
And yet it tells of spirit intertwined
In every line, and many things besides,
That are not of itself.—Where then is that
Whereof it speaks? Not on the canvas there,
Where only spirit-barren colours lie.
Is it then in Capesius himself?
But why can I perceive it not in him?
Thomasius, thou hast so painted here
That what is painted doth destroy itself,
The moment that the eye would fathom it.
I cannot grasp whereto it urgeth me.
What must I grasp from it? What should I seek?
I fain would pierce this canvas through and through
To find what I must seek within its depths;
To find where I may grasp all that which streams
From this same picture into my soul's core.
I must attain it.—Oh—deluded fool!
It seems as though some ghost were haunting me,
A ghost I cannot see, nor have I power
Which doth enable me to focus it.
Thou dost paint ghostly things, Thomasius,
Ensnaring them by magic in thy work.
They do allure us on to seek for them,
And yet they never let themselves be found.
Oh—how I suffer from your pictures!

Capesius:
My friend, in this same moment hast thou lost
The thinker's peace of mind. Consider now,
If from this picture some ghost speaks to thee
Then I myself must surely ghostly be.

Strader:
Forgive me, friend, 'twas weakness on my part.

Capesius:
Ah, speak but good, not evil, of this hour!
For though thou seemed'st to have lost thyself,
Yet in reality thou wast upraised
Far, far above thyself; and thou didst feel,
Even as I myself full oft have felt.
At such times, howsoe'er one feels oneself
Strong-armoured at all points with logic's might,
One can but be convinced that one is seized
By some strange power that can have origin
Not in sense-knowledge or sense-reasoning.
Who hath endowed this picture with such power?
To me it seems the symbol in sense-life
Of soul-experiences gained thereby.
It hath taught me to recognize my soul,
As never heretofore seemed possible;
And most convincing this self-knowledge proved.
Thomasius did search me through and through:
For unto him was given power to pierce
Through sense-appearance unto spirit-self.
With his developed sight he penetrates
To spirit verity; and thus for me
Those ancient words of wisdom: ‘Know thyself,’
In new light do appear. To know ourselves
E'en as we are, we must first find that power
Within ourselves, which, as true spirit, doth
Conceal itself from us in our own selves.

Maria:
We must, to find ourselves, that power unfold
Which can pierce through into our very souls:
And truly do these words of wisdom speak—
Unfold thyself and thou shalt find thyself.

Strader:
If we admit now, that Thomasius
Hath through the unfolding of his spirit power,
Attained to knowledge of that entity,
That dwells, invisible, within thy soul,
Then must we say that on each plane of life
Knowledge doth differ.

Capesius:
So would I maintain.

Strader:
If matters thus do stand, then is all thought
Nothing all learning but illusory;
And every moment I must lose myself.
Oh, do leave me alone. ...
(Exit.)

Capesius:
I'll go with him.
(Exit.)

Maria:
Capesius is nearer far to-day
To spirit lore, then he himself doth think;
And Strader suffers deeply. What his soul
So hotly craves, his spirit cannot find.

Johannes:
The inner nature of these two did stand
Already then before my spirit's eye
When first I dared to tread the realm of souls.
As a young man I saw Capesius,
And Strader in the years he hath not reached
By some long span as yet. Capesius
Did show a youthful promise which conceals
Much that this life will not allow to come
To due fruition in the realms of sense.
I was attracted to his inner self:
In his soul's essence I could first behold
What is the essential kernel of a man;
And how a man's peculiarities
In earthly life do manifest themselves
As consequences of some former life.
Saw the struggles that he overcame,
Which in his other lives had origin,
And which have shaped his present mode of life.
I could not see his death-discarding being
With my soul's vision, yet I did perceive
Within his nature that which could not rise
From his surroundings as they are to-day.
Thus in the picture I could reproduce,
What dwells within the basis of his soul.
My brush was guided by the powers, which he
Unfolded in his former lives on earth.
If thus I have revealed his inmost self,
My picture will have served the aim, which I
Did purpose for it in my thought: for as
A work of art I do not rate it high.

Maria:
It will confirm its work within that soul
To whom it showed the path to spirit-realms.

Curtain falls whilst Maria and Johannes are still in the room

The library and study of Caaesius. Prevailing colour brown. Evening. First Capesius, then the Spirit Forms who are powers of soul later Benedictus.

Capesius (reading in a book):
‘By inward gazing on the Beingless,
And dreaming through the shadowy picture realm
Of thought, conformably to self-made laws:—
Thus erring human nature often seeks
To find the meaning and the goal of life:
The soul from its own depths would draw replies
To questions that concern the universe.
Yet such attempts are vain, illusory
E'en at the outset, and they lead at last
To feeble visions which destroy themselves.’

(Speaking as follows.)

Thus is portrayed in words of import grave
Through Benedictus' noble spirit-sight,
The inward life of many human souls.
Each phrase goes home destructive to my heart—
Unfolding truly mine own way and life
Until this day, with cruel vividness.
And should a god this very hour appear
Descending on me in a raging storm
And clad in wrath, yet could his threatening might
Not torture me with more appalling fears
Than do the Master's words, as strong as fate.
Long hath my life been, but its web displays
Nothing but pictures shadowy and dim
Which haunt my dreaming soul and fondly strive
To mirror truths of nature and of mind.
With this dream-fabric hath my thought essayed
To solve the riddles of the universe.
Down many a path my restless soul I turned.
Yet do I clearly see that I myself,
Was not the active master of my soul
When threads of thought along illusion's path
Spun themselves out to cosmic distances.

So that which I in my content beheld
In pictures, left me empty, led to naught.
Then came across my path Thomasius,
The youthful painter. He indeed strode on,
Upheld by truest energies of soul
To that exalted spiritual way
Which transforms human life, and makes to rise
From hidden gulfs of soul the energy
Which feeds the springs of life within ourselves.
That which awoke from out his inmost soul
Abides in every man. And since from him
I gained this revelation, I do count
As chief amongst the many sins of life
To let the spirit's treasure grow corrupt.

I know henceforth that I must search and seek
And nevermore allow myself to doubt.
In days gone by my vanity of thought
Could have enticed me to the false belief
That unto knowledge man aspires in vain;
And only failure and despair belong
To those who would lay bare the springs of life,

And were all wisdom to unite in this,
And were I powerless to reject the claim
That human destiny demands of man
That he shall lose his individual self
And sink into the gulf of nothingness,
Yet would I make the venture unafraid.

Such thoughts would be a sacrilege to-day,
Since I have learned I cannot win repose
Until the spirit treasure in my soul
Hath been unveiled to the light of day.

The fruits of work of lofty spirit-beings
Have been implanted in the human soul,
And whoso leaves the spirit seed to lie
Unheeded and decay, he brings to naught
The work divine committed unto man.
Thus do I recognize life's highest task;
Yet when I try to take one single step
Across the threshold that I dare not shun,
I feel my strength desert me, which of yore
Did pride itself on elevated thought,
And sought the goals of life in time and space.
Once did I reckon it an easy thing
To set the brain in action and to grasp
The nature of reality by thought.
But now, when I would search the fount of life
And comprehend it as in truth it is,
My thought appears as some blunt instrument;
I have no power, no matter how I strive,
To form a clear thought-image from the words of
Benedictus, though his earnest speech
Should now direct me to the spirit's path.

(Resuming his reading.)

‘In silence sound the depths of thine own soul,
And ever let strong courage be thy guide.
Thy former ways of thinking cast away
What time thou dost withdraw into thyself;
For only when thine own light is put out
Will spirit-radiance show itself to thee.’

(Resuming his soliloquy.)

It seems as though I could not draw my breath
When I attempt to understand. these words.
And ere I feel the thoughts that I must think,
Fear and misgiving have beset my soul.
It is borne in on me that everything
Which hitherto was my environment
Is crumbling into ruin, and therewith
I too am crumbling into nothingness:
An hundred times at least have I perused
The words which follow, and each several time
Darkness enfolds me deeper than before.

(Resuming his reading.)

‘Within thy thinking cosmic thought doth live,
Within thy feeling cosmic forces play,
Within thy will do cosmic beings work;
Abandon thou thyself to cosmic thought,
Experience thyself through cosmic force,
Create thyself anew from cosmic will.
End not at last in cosmic distances
By fantasies of dreamy thought beguiled.
Do thou begin in farthest spirit-realms
And end in the recesses of thy soul.
The plan divine then shalt thou recognize
When thou hast realized thy Self in thee.’

(Becomes entranced by a vision, then comes to himself and speaks.)

What was this?

(Three Figures, representing soul forces, float round him.)

Luna:
Abundant power is thine
For lofty spirit-flight;
Its sure foundation rests
Upon the human will.
Its temper hath been tried
By sure and certain hope.
It hath grown strong as steel
By sight of future times.
Thou dost but courage lack
To pour into thy will
Thy confidence in life.
Into the vast Unknown
Dare but to venture forth!

Astrid:
From cosmic distances
And from the sun's glad light,
From utmost realms of stars
And magic might of worlds,
From heaven's ethereal blue
And spirit's lofty power,
Win mightiness of soul;
And send its radiant beams
Deep down within thine heart;
That knowledge glowing warm
May thus be born in thee.

The Other Philia:
They are deceiving thee
This evil sisterhood;
They seek but to ensnare
By trickery and guile.
Thy gifts so seeming fair
Which they have offered thee
Will vanish into air
When thou wouldst hold them fast
With all thy human strength.
They lead thee on to worlds
Inhabited by gods,
Where thou wilt be destroyed
If thou mak'st bold to rise
Into their cosmic realm
With thy humanity.

Capesius:
It was quite plain that here some beings spake—
And yet it is most sure that no one else—
Beside myself—is present in this place.

So have I but held converse with myself
And yet that too seems quite impossible
For ne'er could I imagine such discourse
As here I listened to—

Am I still he was before?

(From his gestures it is plain he feels unable to reply ‘yes.’)

Oh! I am—I am not.

The Spirit-Voice of Conscience:
Thy thoughts do now descend
To depths of human life
And what as soul doth compass thee around
And what as spirit is enchained in thee,
Expands in cosmic depth,
From whose fulness quaffing
Mankind doth live in thought
From whose fulness living
Mankind illusion weaves.

Capesius:
Enough ... Enough ... Where is Capesius?
You I implore ... ye forces all unknown ...
Where is Capesius? Where is ... myself?

(Once more he relapses into a reverie.)

(Enter Benedictus. Capesius does not notice him at first. Benedictus touches him on the shoulder.)

Benedictus:
I learned that thou didst wish to speak with me,
And so I came to seek thee in thy home.

Capesius:
Right good it is of thee to grant my wish.
Yet it had scarce been possible that thou
Shouldst find me in worse case than now I am.
That I am not this moment on the ground
Prostrate before thy feet, after such pain
As even now hath racked my soul, I owe
To thy kind glance alone which sought mine own,
So soon as thou didst with thy gentle touch
Arouse me from the horrors of my dream.

Benedictus:
I am aware that I have found thee now
Fighting a battle for thy very life.
Since I have known full well this long time past
That thus it was appointed us to meet.
Prepare to change the sense of many words
If thou wouldst understand my speech aright,
And do not marvel that thy present pain
Bears in my language quite another name—
I call thy state good fortune.

Capesius:
Then indeed
Thou dost but heap the measure of the woe
Which casts me into gloom's abysmal deeps.
Just now I felt as if my real self
Had flown afar to cosmic distances,
And unfamiliar beings through its sheaths
Were speaking here. But this I took to be
Hallucination, spirit mockery,
And mourned that thus my soul could be deceived:
This thought alone kept me from breaking down.
Take not away my right thus to believe,
The only prop I lean on; tell me not
My fevered dreaming was good fortune; else
I shall be lost indeed.

Benedictus:
A man can lose
Nought else but that which keeps him separate
From cosmic being. When he seems to lose
That which in dreamy fantasies of thought
He misapplied to labours purposeless,
Then let him seek for what has gone from him.
For he will surely find it, and withal
The proper use to which it should be put
In human life. Mere words of comfort now
Were nothing more than clever play on words.

Capesius:
Nay—teachings that by intellect alone
Are comprehended, thou dost not impart.
Bitter experience has shown me this.
Like deeds which lead one on to lofty heights
And also cast one to abysmal depth,
Thy counsels pour a stream of fiery life
And also deathly chill into men's souls.
They work at once e'en as the nod of fate
And also as the storms of life and love.
Much had I sought and thought in earlier days
Before I met thee; yet the spirit's powers,
Creative and destructive, I have learned
Only since I have followed in thy steps.
The turmoil and confusion of my soul,
Caused by thy words, was evident when thou
Didst come within my chamber. Oft I felt
Much pain whilst reading in thy book of life,
Until to-day my cup of woe was full.
And so my agony of soul o'erflowed,
Spilled by thy fateful words. Their meaning swept.
O'er all my soul unrecognized, and yet
Like some elixir they revived my heart.
In such wise wrought they in the magic worlds
That all my clarity of sense was lost.
Then ghostly phantoms made a mock of me,
And words of import dark I seemed to hear
Issue from my distraught tormented soul.
I know that all the secrets thou dost guard
For human souls may not be written down,
But that the answer to men's doubts may be
Revealed to each according to his need.
So grant me that of which I stand in need;
For verily I must indeed be told
What robbed me of my senses and my wits
And compassed me with magic's airy spells.

Benedictus:
Another meaning hides within my words
Than that of the ideas which they convey;
They guide the natural forces of the soul
To spirit-verities their inward sense
Cannot be understood until the day
On which they waken vision in the soul
That yields itself to their compelling power.
They are not fruitage of mine own research;
But spirits have entrusted them to me,
Spirits well skilled to read the signs in which
The Karma of the world doth stand revealed.
The special virtue of these words is this,
Unto the source of knowledge they can guide.
Yet none the less it must be each man's task,
Who understands them in their truest sense,
To drink the spirit-waters from that source.
Nor are my words designed to hinder thee
From being swept away to worlds that seem
To thee fantastic. Thou. hast seen a realm
Which must remain illusion just as long
As thou dost lose thyself on entering it.
But wisdom's outer portal will be found
Unsealed to thine advancing soul so soon
As thou dost near it with self-consciousness.

Capesius:
And how can I maintain self-consciousness?

Benedictus:
The answer to this riddle thou shalt find
When, with awakened inner eye, thou dost
Perceive before thee many wondrous things,
Which shortly will be found to cross thy path.
Know that a test path been ordained for thee
By lords of fate and by the spirit-powers.

(Exit.)

Capesius:
Although their meaning is not clear to me
I feel his words at work within myself.
He hath appointed me a goal; and I
Am ready to obey. He doth not ask
For stress of thought; it seems that he desires
I should press forward with exploring feet
To find the spirit-verities myself.

I cannot tell how he was sent to me;
And yet his actions, have compelled my trust;
He hath restored me to myself once more.
So though at present I may not divine
The nature of the spell that shook me so,
I will not shrink from facing these events
Which his prophetic vision hath foretold.

Curtain whilst Capesius remains standing

A meditation chamber. Prevailing colour violet. Serious, but not gloomy atmosphere.

Benedictus, Maria, then the Spirit-Figures representing soul-powers.

Maria:
Great conflicts in my soul bid me invoke
Wise counsel from my master in this hour.
Gloomy forebodings rise within my heart.
And I am powerless to withstand the thoughts,
That overwhelm me ever and again.
They pierce me to my being's inmost core;
They seek to lay upon me a command
Which to obey doth seem like sacrilege.
Deceitful powers must be obsessing me;
Oh, I implore thee—lend me aid ... that I
May exorcise them.

Benedictus:
Never shalt thou lack
What thou dost need of me at any time.

Maria:
I know how closely to my soul are knit
Johannes' life and aims. A stony road
Of fate brought us together; and God's will
Hath hallowed in high spirit-realms our bond.
All this stands out before me e'en as clear
As only truth itself can be. And yet—
Horror o'erpowers me that these lips of mine
Must utterance give to sacrilegious words—
And yet—deep in my soul I hear a voice
Which tells me plainly and repeatedly
Despite my utmost will to fight it down:
‘Thou must give up Johannes, let him go.
No longer mayst thou keep him at thy side
If thou wouldst not work evil to his soul.
Alone he must proceed along the road
On which he travels to his longed for goal.’
I know that if thou dost but speak the word
This lying dream will cease to haunt my soul,

Benedictus:
Maria, noble grief leads thee astray
To see the truth, yet call it counterfeit.

Maria:
What I have seen—is truth ... It cannot be!
Between my master's utterance and mine ear
Delusion steals. 0 speak to me again.

Benedictus:
What I have spoken, thou hast heard aright:
Thy love is noble, and Johannes stands
Close-knit to thee. But love must not forget
That she is wisdom's sister. Long indeed
For his salvation hath Johannes been
With thee united. Now his soul demands,
For its own progress, freedom to pursue
Its aims unhindered. Fate doth not decree
That ye shall be no longer outward friends;
But this it doth demand with strict decree—
Johannes' freedom in the spirit-realm.

Maria:
Still do I hear delusion: so let me
Alone continue speaking, for I know
That thou must understand me without fail.
For sure it is no lying shape will dare
To change the words unto thine ear addressed.
My host of doubts were easily dispersed
If earth-life's tortuous course alone it were
That knits Johannes' soul unto mine own.
But to our bond was lofty sanction given
Which knits soul unto soul eternally.
And spirit-powers did speak with blessings meet
The word that bans all doubts for evermore:
‘He hath won truth within the eternal realms
Because in worlds of sense his inmost self
Already was united with thine own.’
What can this revelation mean to me
If now its very opposite is true?

Benedictus:
Thou hast to learn that even one to whom
There hath been much revealed, may yet be found
Lacking perfection still in divers ways.
Tangled the paths that lead to higher truths:
And only those may hope to reach the goal
Who walk in patience through their labyrinth.
Thou didst but see one part of what is real
In that great realm of everlasting light,
When with thine inner vision thou didst gaze
Upon a picture of the spirit-land.
Not yet hast thou seen full reality.
Johannes' soul is knit unto thine own
By earthly ties of such complexity,
That it may be allotted unto each
To find his way into the spirit-realm
Through forces borrowed from the other one.
But nothing hitherto hath clearly shown
That ye have conquered each and every test.
To see a picture hath been granted you
Of what the future holds for you in store
When ye can pass unscathed the full ordeal.
That ye have seen the ultimate reward
Of unremitting effort is no sign
That ye have reached the end of all your strife.
Ye have beheld a picture, which your will
Alone can turn unto reality.

Maria:
Although thy words just spoken fall on me
Like bitter pain that follows hours of bliss,
There is at least one lesson I have learned,
Which is to bow my head to wisdom's light
When it doth prove itself through inward force.
Already something is becoming clear
Which up till now lay hidden in my heart.
But when in highest bliss delusion's snare
Doth wear the mask of truth to human minds,
Darkness of soul is difficult to ban.
I need still more than that which thou hast given
To plumb the depth of meaning in thy words.
Thou once didst lead myself to those soul-depths
Wherein a light was then vouchsafed to me
By which I could behold the lives I spent
In previous incarnations long ago.
Thus was it granted me to learn the way
In which my soul was linked unto my friend's.
My act of bringing, in those days of old,
Johannes' soul unto the spirit-fount
I felt and recognized to be the seed
Which grew and bore such cherished friendship's fruit,
As was found ripe for all eternity.

Benedictus:
Thou wart accounted worthy to retrace
Thy path on earth in days long since gone by.
But thou must not forget to look and see
If thou canst be assured with certainty
That of thy past lives none concealed doth stay
When backward thou dost turn thy spirit's eye.

Maria (after a pause betokening deep reflection):
How, could I be so blinded, so misled?
The rapture which I felt on looking back
Over a period of bygone times
Deluded me to vain forgetfulness
of manifold shortcomings. Not till now
Did I foresee that I must turn my gaze
Into the darkness ere I comprehend
The road that leads back from this present life
To olden days when my friend's soul sought mine.
To thee, my master, will I make my vow
Henceforth to bridle my soul's arrogance ...!
Now for the first time do I realize
How pride of knowledge leads the soul astray;
So that, instead of its imbibing strength
From freely offered stores of spirit-wealth,
It misapplies the gift in wanton use
And only holds the mirror up to self.
I know at last from my heart's warning call,
To which thy words lend added power, how far
I am to-day e'en from the nearest goal.
No more will I be overswift to read
A meaning into words from spirit-lands.
I will esteem them power wherewith my soul
May shape its course—, not as some message sent
To free me from the need of finding out
The goal of action in my daily life.
Had I paid earlier heed unto this truth
And gone my way in due humility,
I had not failed to see that only then
When he decides to tread a path not traced
By me beforehand, can my friend unfold
To fullest bloom his richly-gifted soul.
And now that this is clear I shall not fail
In finding strength sufficient to fulfil
What love and duty may require of me.
Yet do I feel assured this very hour
More clearly than I ever was before
That some grave testing of my soul draws nigh.
For mostly, when men tear from out their hearts
That of themselves which in another lives,
Love hath been changed into its opposite.
Themselves they change the ties that coupled them,
Yet passion's impulse gives to them the power.
Whilst I must of mine own free will uproot
The workings of my soul's life, which I saw
Accomplishing themselves in my friend's acts;
And still unchanging must my love abide.

Benedictus:
If thou wouldst steer thy course direct, thou must
Become aware of what thou most didst prize
In this thy love. For once thou knowst the force
That leads thee all unknown within thy soul,
Thou wilt find power to do what duty bids.

Maria:
By saying this thou giv'st e'en now that aid
Of which my soul so sorely stands in need.
I must investigate mine inmost self
With earnest questionings: and so I ask,
What potent cause impels me in my love?
I see my own soul's life and strength at work
In my friend's nature and activities.
So that which I desire to satisfy
Is nothing but the hunger of myself,
Which I, deluded, call unselfishness.
Thus it hath been concealed from me till now
That in my friend I mirror but myself.
It was the dragon Selfishness who veiled
The truth from me in wrappings of deceit.
And selfishness can take an hundred forms:—
see it clearly now. And when one thinks
The enemy subdued, behold him rise
Out of defeat and stronger than before.
Moreover 'tis a foe with added skill
To hide the truth with cloak of counterfeit.

(Maria sinks into deep thought.)

(The three Spirit-Figures of the soul- owers appear.)

Maria:
O ye my sisters, whom
I find in Being's depths,
Whene'er my soul expands
And guides itself within
The cosmic distances:
The powers of sight for me
From ether's heights release
And lead to earthly paths
That I may know myself
As I exist in Time
And may direct my course
From out old ways of life
Unto new spheres of Will.

Philia:
I will myself imbue
With soul's aspiring light
From my heart's inmost depths:
I will breathe deep within
Will's might that giveth life
From out the spirit powers:
Dear sister, that thou may'st
Experience the Light
I thine old ways of life.

Astrid:
I will weave self-hood in
All conscious of itself
With Love's submissive will;
I will release forthwith
The budding powers of Will
From fetters of desire
And change thy yearning weak
To spirit certainty;
Dear Sister, that thou may'st
In distant paths on earth
Unravel thine own self.

Luna:
The self-denying powers
Of heart will I call forth,
And will make hard and fast
Enduring soul-repose
Then shall they wed, and raise
The powerful spirit light
From out the depths of soul.
They shall impenetrate,
And force Earth's bounds to heed
The listening spirit ear;
Dear Sister, that thou may'st
Find in Time's vast expanse
The traces of thy life.

Maria:
If I could only tear
My 'wildered self away
And give myself to you
That ye from cosmic space
Might thus reflect my soul;
Then could I loose myself
From out this sphere of life
And find myself again
In other states of being,

(Long pause, then the following:)

In you, my sisters, I see spirit-beings
Quickening the souls of men from cosmic founts,
Ye bring to fruitage in the self of man
The seedling forces from eternity.
Through my soul's gates oft have I found the way
Into your, kingdom, and have there beheld
The primal shaping of this earthly globe
With inner vision. Now your help I crave
Since I am bidden to retrace the way
That stretches back far from my present life
To long past ages of humanity.
Release my soul from consciousness of self
In time-enclosed existence, and reveal
The duties laid on me by former lives.

A Spirit-voice,—the spiritual conscience:
Her thoughts are seeking now
For Clues in Time's vast space.
What as debt she still loth owe,
What as duty is imposed,
Arise from out her inmost depths of soul,
From whose deepness dreaming
Mankind doth guide his life,
In whose deepness straying
Mankind himself doth lose.

Curtain falls; everybody still standing on the stage

A room whose prevailing tint is rose-red; cheerful atmosphere.

Johannes at an easel; Maria enters later; finally the Spirit-Figures representing soul-powers.

Johannes:
Maria, when she saw my picture last,
Stood silent. Heretofore she ever gave
Hints to assist the progress of my work
From her rich store of wisdom manifold.
Little as I can trust myself to judge
Whether my art indeed accomplishes
The task our spirit-current hath imposed,
Yet is my confidence in her complete.
And ever through my spirit ring her words
Which lent me strength and brought me happiness
When I took courage and began this work.
‘In such a way as this,’ she said, ‘thou canst
Attempt this enterprise, and so reveal
Thy spirit's visions unto earthly eyes.
Thou wilt not fail to recognize how forms,
Fashioned like thoughts, shape matter to their will;
Nor yet how colour, to desire akin,
Doth fill thy vital energy with warmth.
In such wise canst thou even represent
On canvas through thy skill the higher realms.’
I feel the power that dwells within these words
And diffidently yield to that belief
That I am drawing nearer to the goal
Which Benedictus hath appointed me.
Full oft I sat discouraged at my work;
It seemed at one time so presumptuous,
And at another so impossible
To represent in colour and in form
The visions that are granted to my soul.
How can the ceaseless web of spirit-life,
Which is revealed to inner sight alone
And is so far withdrawn from outward sense,
Be manifest in matter which is drawn,
As drawn it must be, from the realm of sense?
This question have I asked myself full oft.
Yet when I banish personality,
And follow spirit-teaching faithfully,
And feel myself caught up in blessedness
Unto creative forces of the worlds,
At once belief awakens in an art
As true and mystic as our spirit-quest.
I learned to live with light, and recognize
In colour's power the action of that light,
As faithful students of true mystic lore
See in realms reft of colour and of form
The spirit's deeds and soul's reality.
Relying on this spirit-light, I won
This power, to feel in flowing sea of light,
And live within the stream of glowing tints;
And sense those spirit-forces which maintain
Their might in non-material webs of light,
And radiant colours filled with spirit-life.

(Enter Maria, unobserved by Johannes.)

And when my courage faileth me, once more
Of thee, my friend most noble, do I think.
At thy soul's fire my love of work is warmed;
Thy spirit-light awakes my faith anew.

(He sees Maria.)

Oh, thou art here ... Impatiently I craved
Thy coming, yet I marked not thine approach!

Maria:
I must rejoice to find my friend so wrapt
In work as to forget his friend herself.

Johannes:
Nay, speak not thus, since thou dost know full well
That I cannot create one single thought
Which hath not first been hallowed by thine aid.
No work of mine owes not its life to thee.
Through thy love's fire have h been purified;
Through thee my art hath learned to represent
The beauty of the truths revealed to thee,
Which warm my heart, illuminate my sense,
And clothe in radiant light the spirit-world.
The current of my work must take its rise
From thy soul's spring and flow thence into mine,
Ere I can feel the wings that lift me,up
To lofty heights of spirit, far from earth.
I love the life that quickens in thy soul,
And, loving it, can give it form and hue.
Love only can beget artistic power
And make an artist's work bear fruit and live.
If I, as artist, am to. carry back
Pictures of spirit to the world of sense,
Then cosmic spirit must speak forth through me,
My personality be but its tool.
First must I burst the bonds of selfishness
Ere I can know that I shall not mistake
For spirit-worlds my own vain fantasies.

Maria:
And if thou hadst to seek through thine own sight
And not through mine the true course of thy work,
It may well be that, coming from one soul
Thy beauty's being might be unified.

Johannes:
I should be spinning webs of idle thought
In speculating which I should prefer:
Whether to incarnate thy spirit-sight,
Or in myself to seek my vision's source.—
I am convinced I could not find it thus.

I can withdraw to deep retreats of soul
And find delight in wide-flung spirit-worlds:
I can pour out my soul in worlds of sense
And follow colour-wonders with mine eye
And watch creative energies at work,
If I am left with mine own soul alone.
Whate'er may thus befall me I am not
Thereby impelled to my creative art.
But if I follow thee to cosmic heights,
And in warm rapture live again what thou
Already hast in spirit there beheld,
I feel a fire in thy spirit sight
Which burns on in me also, and whose flames
Kindle the powers that drive me to my work.

If my desire were simply to relate
That which I can find in higher worlds,
Then with my soul I well might upward soar
To spheres where spirit unto spirit speaks.
But as an artist I must find that fire
Which lights the picture and inflames the heart.
And my soul cannot to my picture give
The magic warmth that streams through human hearts,
’fill it can quench its thirst with spirit-truths
Revealed from out the depths of thine own heart.

How primal force by longing is condensed,
How powers creative blaze with spirit-light,
And, sensing even then their need of man,
Display themselves as gods in earliest times.
All this, my friend, thy soul in noble speech
Hath often led me on to learn unseen.
In hues ethereal of the spirit-world
I sought to densify what hid from sight;
And felt how colours longed to see themselves
Mirrored as spirit in the souls of men.
So loth my friend's soul speak as it 'twere mine
Out of my pictures to the human heart.

Maria:
Bethink, Johannes, how the One Soul must—
A personality apart from all—
Evolve from out the womb of time.
Love serves to knit together separate souls
Not kill their individuality.
The moment is upon us, when we twain
Must test our souls, and find the spirit-path
That each must follow for its separate good.

(Exit.)

Johannes:
What meant my friend? Her words did sound so strange.
Maria, I must follow thee forthwith.

(The three Spirit-Figures of the soul-powers appear with the Other Philia.)

Luna:
Thou canst not find thyself
Portrayed in other souls.
The power of thine own self
Must root in cosmic soil,
If from the spirit-heights
Thou wouldst indeed transplant
Their beauty to earth's depths.
Be bold to be thyself,
That thou, strong souled, mayst give
Thyself to cosmic powers—a willing sacrifice.

Astrid:
In all thy ways on earth
Thou must not lose thyself;
Mankind doth not attain
To sun-kissed distances
If he would rob himself of personality.
So then prepare thyself,
Press on through earthly love
To utmost depths of heart
Which ripen cosmic love.

The Other Philia:
O heed the sisters not;
They lead thee far astray
To cosmic distances,
And rob thee of earth's touch.
They do not understand
That earthly love bears trace
Of cosmic love itself.
In cold their natures dwell
And warmth flies from their powers.
They fain would lure mankind
From out his own soul depths
To cold and lofty worlds.

Curtain: Johannes, Philia, Astrid, Luna, and the Other Philia still standing

The same room as in Scene 1. Capesius and Strader.

Capesius (to Strader who is entering):
A hearty welcome to the friend whose tongue
With many a disputatious argument
Stoutly withstood me! 'Tis long time since
Thou crossed this threshold. Yet in earlier days
Thou wast my constant welcome visitor.

Strader:
Alas I have not had the time to spare;
My life hath undergone a curious change.
No longer do I plague my weary brain
With hopeless problems. Now I dedicate
The knowledge I have won to honest work,
Such as may serve-some useful end in life.

Capesius:
Thou meanest, thou hast given up thy quest?

Strader:
Say rather, that it hath abandoned me.

Capesius:
And what may be thy present labours' goal?

Strader:
There are no goals in life ordained for man
Which he may see and clearly understand.
It is a mighty engine by whose wheels
We are caught up and wearied, and cast out
Into the darkness when our strength is spent.

Capesius:
I knew thee in the days when eagerly
And undismayed thou didst set out to solve
The riddles of existence. I have learned
How thou didst see thy treasured knowledge sink
Into the bottomless abyss, and how
Thy soul, profoundly shaken, had to drain
The bitter cup of disappointed dreams.
But never for one moment did I think
That thou couldst drive the impulse from thy heart
Which had become so fully master there.

Strader:
Thou hast but to recall a certain day
On which a seeress by her truthful speech
Made clear to me the error of my ways.
I had no choice but to acknowledge then
That thought, however hard it toil and strive,
Can never reach the fountain: head of life.
For thought cannot do otherwise than err,
If it be so that highest wisdom's light
Can be revealed to that dark power of soul
Of which that woman showed herself possessed.
The rules of science cannot ever lead
To such a revelation; that is plain.
Had this been all, and had I only met
This one defeat whilst following my quest,
I do believe I could have brought myself
To start afresh by striving to unite
My methods with those other different ones.
But when I saw how some strange spirit cult—
Born of hallucinations as I deemed—
Impotence into creative strength could change,
Hope disappeared, and left me in despair.

Dost thou recall the artist, that young man
We both encountered whilst he was engrossed
Following the dubious course of spirit-ways
After such buffetings from fate I lived
For many weeks benumbed, to madness nigh
And when by nature's aid I was at last
Restored to sense, I made a firm resolve
To meddle with such seeking never more.
Long, long it was before I had regained
My body's health and 'twas a joyless time.
I made myself proficient in those things
That lead to business and to normal life.
So now I am a factory manager,
Where screws are made. This is the work I thank
For many hours in which I can forget
My bitter sufferings in a futile quest.

Capesius:
I must confess I scarce can recognize
My friend of former days; so different
Is now the guise in which he shows himself.
Beside those hours of which thou spak'st just now
Were there not others full of storm and stress,
In which the ancient conflicts were renewed
That urged thee forth from this benumbing life?

Strader:
I am not spared those hours in mine own soul
When impotence 'gainst impotence doth strive.
And fate hath not so willed it in my case
That rosy beams of hope should force their way
Into my heart, and leave assurance there
That this my present life is not an utter loss.
Renunciation is henceforth my goal.
Yet may the force which such a task requires
Endow me later on with faculty
To follow up my quest in other ways—

(Aside.)

If this terrestrial life repeats itself.

Capesius:
Thou spak'st,—if I indeed have heard aright,—
Of repetition of thy life on earth.
Then hast thou really won this fateful truth,
Found it on spirit-journeys, which to-day
Thou none the less condemnst as dubious?

Strader:
This was the third thing—thou hast spoken it
That finally did strengthen my resolve
To make a fresh beginning in my life.
I sought upon my sick-bed once for all
In comprehensive survey to embrace
The field of knowledge traversed by myself.
And this I did, ere seeking other aims.
I must have asked myself an hundred times
What we can learn from nature, and infer
From what we know at present of her laws.
I could not find a loophole for escape.
The repetition of our earthly life
Cannot and must not be denied by thought
That doth not wish to tear itself away
From all research hath found for ages past.

Capesius:
Could I have had one such experience
Then should I have been spared much bitter pain.
I sought through many a weary wakeful night
For liberating thoughts to set me free.

Strader:
And yet it was this spirit lightning-flash
Which robbed me of my last remaining powers.
The strongest impulse of my soul hath been
Ever to seek for evidence in life
Of what my thought hath forced on me as truth.
So it befell, as if by chance, that I
Wen in those days of misery should prove,
And by my own life testify the truth,
That cruel truth with all that it involves:
Which is, that all our sorrows and our joys
Are but results of what we really are.
Aye! this is often very hard to bear.

Capesius:
Incredible seems such experience.
What can there be to overshadow truth,
For which we search unwearying, and which
Unto our spirit firm assurance gives!

Strader:
For thee it may be so, but not for me.
Thou art acquainted with my curious life.
By chance it seemed my parents' plans were crossed,—
Their purpose was to make a monk of me;
And naught so hurt them, they have often said,
In all their life as my apostasy.
I bore all this, yea and much more besides;
Just as one bears the other things in life
So long as birth and death appear the bounds
Appointed for our earthly pilgrimage.
So too my later life and all the hopes
That came to naught, to me a picture seemed
That only by itself could be explained.
Would that the day had never dawned, on which
I altered those convictions that I held,
For—bear in mind—I have not yet confessed
The total burden laid on me by fate.
No child was I of those who would have made
A monk of me, but an adopted son
Chosen by them when but a few days old.
My own real parents I have never known,
But was a stranger in my very home.
Nor less estranged have I remained from all
That happened round me in my later life.
And now my thought compels me to look back
Unto those days of long ago, and see
How from the world I stole myself away.
For thought is linked with thought to make a chain:
A man to whom it hath been thus ordained
To be a stranger in the world, before
His consciousness had ever dawned in him,
This man hath willed this fate upon himself
Ere he could will as consequence of thought.
And since I stay that which I was at first,
I know without the shadow of a doubt
That all unknowing I am in the power
Of forces that control my destiny,
And that will not reveal themselves to me.
Do I need more to give me cruel proof
How many veils enshroud mine inmost self?
Without false thirst for knowledge, judge this now;
Hath my new truth revealed the light to me?
It hath, at any rate, brought certainty
That I in mine uncertainty must stay.
Thus it portrays to me my destiny
And like in its own way, is my reply,
Half anguish and half bitter mockery.
A fearful sense of horror on me grew.
Tortured by scorn I must confront my life;
And scoffing at the mockery of fate
I yielded to the darkness. Yet there stayed
One single thought which I could realize:
Do with me what thou wilt, thou life-machine;
I am not curious how thy cog-wheels work!

Capesius:
The man whom I have recognized in thee
In such condition cannot long remain
Bereft of Knowledge, even if he would.
Already I can see the days approach
When we shall both be other than we are.

The curtain falls, leaving them standing opposite one another

A mountain glade, in which is situated Felix Balde's solitary cottage. Evening. Dame Felicia Balde, Capesius, then Felix Balde; later on Johannes and his Double; afterwards Lucifer and Ahriman. Dame Felicia is seated on a bench in front of her cottage.

Capesius (arriving, approaches her):
I know an old friend will not ask in vain
For leave to stay and rest awhile with thee
Since now, e'en more than any former time,
He needs what in thine house so oft he found.

Felicia:
When thou wast still far off, thy wearied step
Told me the tale which now thine eyes repeat;
That sorrow dwelleth in thy soul to-day.

Capesius (who has seated himself):
Even of onetime 'twas not granted me
To bring much merriment into thy home;
But special patience must I crave to-day
When, heavy-hearted and of peace bereft,
I force my way unto the home of peace.

Felicia:
We were right glad to see thee in the days
When scarce another man came near this house,
And thou art still our friend, despite events
That came between us, e'en though many now
Are glad to seek us in this lonely glade.

Capesius:
The tale is true then which hath reached mine ears,
That thy dear Felix, so reserved of yore,
Is nowadays a man much visited?

Felicia:
'Tis so; good Felix used to shut us off
From everyone—; but now the people throng
To question him, and he must answer them.
His duty bids him lead this novel life.
In former days he cared not to impart,
Save to his inner self, the secret lore
Concerning spirit-deeds and nature's powers
By rock and forest unto him revealed.
Nor did men seem to value it before.
How great a change hath now come o'er the times!
To many men lending a willing ear
To what they counted folly in the past,
Greedy for wisdom, Felix can reveal.
And when my dear good husband has to talk

(Felix Balde comes out of the house.)

Hour upon hour on end, as oft he doth,
I long for those old days of which I spake.
How oft would Felix earnestly declare
That in the quiet heart enshrined, the soul
Must learn to treasure up the spirit-gifts
From worlds divine in mercy sent to her.
He held it treachery to that high speech
Of spirit, to reveal it to an ear
That was but open to the world of sense.

Felix:
Felicia cannot reconcile herself
To this much altered fashion of our life.
As she regrets the loneliness of old,
So she deplores the many days that pass
In which we have but few hours for ourselves.

Capesius:
What made thee strangers welcome to a house
That shut them out so sternly heretofore?

Felix:
The spirit-voice which speaks within my heart
Bade me of yore be silent; I obeyed.
Now that it bids me speak I show myself
Equally faithful unto its command.
Our human nature undergoes a change
As earth's existence gradually evolves.
Now are we very near an epoch's close;
And spirit-knowledge therefore must in part
Be now revealed unto every man
Who chooseth to receive it to himself.
I know how little what I have to tell
Is in agreement with man's current thought;
The spirit-life, they say, must be made known,
In strict and logical thought sequences,
And men deny all logic to my words.
True science on a firm foundation based,
Cannot, they say, regard me otherwise
Than as a visionary soul who seeks
A solitary road to wisdom's seat,
And knows no more of science than of art.
Yet not a few declare it worth their while
The tangle of my language to explore,
Because therein from time to time is found
Something of worth, to reason not opposed.
I am a man into whose heart must flow,
Untouched by art, each vision he may see.
Nought know I of a knowledge lacking words.
When I retreat within mine inmost heart
And also when I list to nature's voice,
Then such a knowledge wakes to life in me
As hath no need to seek for any words;
Speech is to it as intimately linked
As is his body's sheath to man on earth;
And knowledge such as this, which in this wise
Reveals itself to us from spirit-worlds,
Can be of service even unto those
Who understand it not. And so it is
That every man is free to come to me
Who will attend to what I have to say.
Many are led by curiosity
And other trivial reasons to my door.
I know that this is so, but also know
That though the souls of just such men as these
Are not this moment living for the light,
Yet in them have been planted seeds of good
Which will not fail to ripen in due time.

Capesius:
Let me, I pray thee, freely speak my mind.
I have admired thee now these many years;
Yet up till now I have not grasped the sense
Which underlies thy strange mysterious words.

Felix:
It surely will unfold itself to thee;
For with a lofty spirit dost thou strive—
And noble heart, and so the time must come
When thou thyself shalt hear the voice of truth.
Thou dost not mark how full of rich content
Man, as the image of the cosmos, is:
His head doth mirror heaven's very self:
The spirits of the spheres work through his limbs
And in his breast earth-beings hold their sway.
To all of these opposed, in all their might
Appear the demons, natives of the Moon,
Whose lot it is to cross those beings' aims.
The human form as it before us stands,
The soul through which we live and feel and strive,
The spirit that illuminates our path:
All these, full many gods have worked to mould
Throughout the ages of eternity;
And this their purpose was: to join in one,
Forces proceeding out of all the worlds
Which should, in combination, make mankind.

Capesius:
Thy words come near to causing me alarm,
For they regard mankind as nothing else
Than products of divine activities.

Felix:
And so a man who sets himself to learn
True spirit science must be meek indeed.
Whoso, in vanity, self knowledge seeks,
For him the gates of wisdom open not.

Capesius:
Once more, no doubt, will Dame Felicia
Come to mine aid, as she so oft hath done,
And make a picture for my seeking soul,
Which, being warmed thereat, may rightly grasp
The real true meaning in thy words contained.

Felicia:
Dear Felix oft hath told me in the past
The very words which now he spake to thee.
They freed a vision in mine heart, which I
Did promise, then and there, I must relate
Some day to thee.

Capesius:
Oh do so, dearest dame;
I sorely crave refreshment, such as thou,
Out of thy picture-storehouse canst provide.

Felicia:
So be it then. There once did live a boy,
The only child of needy forest-folk,
Who grew up in the woodland solitudes;
Few souls he knew beside his parents twain.
His build was slender, and his skin wellnigh
Transparent; marvels of the spirit hid
Deep in his eye; long could one gaze therein.
And though few human beings ever came
Into the circle of his daily life,
The lad was well befriended none the less.
When golden sunshine bathed the neighbouring hills,
With thoughtful eyes he drew the spirit-gold
Into his soul, until his heart became
Kin to the morning glory of the sun.
But when the morning sunshine could not break
Through dense dark banks of cloud, and heaviness
Lay on the hills around, his eye grew sad,
And sorrow took possession of his heart.
Thus his attention only centred on
The spirit-fabric of his narrow world,
A world that seemed as much a part of him
As did his limbs and body. Woodlands all
And trees and flowers he felt to be his friends;
From crown and calyx and from tops of trees,
The spirit beings spake full oft to him,
And all their whisperings were lucid speech.
Marvels and wonders of the hidden worlds
Disclosed themselves unto the boy when he
Held converse in his soul with many things
By men deemed lifeless. Evening often fell,
And still the boy would be away from home,
And cause his loving parents much concern.
At such times he was at a place near by
In which a spring rose gushing from the rocks,
To fall in misty spray upon the stones.
When silver moonbeams would reflect themselves,
A miracle of colour and of light,
Full in the rush of hasting waterdrops,
The boy could spend beside the rock-born spring
Hour after hour, till spirit-shapes appeared
Before the vision of the youthful seer
Where moonbeams shivered on the falling drops.
They grew to be three forms in woman's shape,
Who spoke to him about those things in which
His yearning soul made known its interest.
And when upon a gentle summer night
The lad was once more sitting by the spring,
A myriad particles one woman took
From out the coloured web of waterdrops
And to the second woman handed them.
She fashioned from the watery particles
A gleaming chalice with a silver sheen
And handed it in turn unto the third.
She filled the vessel with the silver rays
Of moonlight and then gave it to the boy,
Who had beheld all this with inner sight.
During the night which followed this event
He dreamed a dream in which he saw himself
Robbed of this chalice by some dragon wild.
After this night had passed, the boy beheld
But three times more the marvel of the stream.
Then the three women stayed away from him
Although he sat and mused beside the spring
That gushed beneath the moonlight from the rock.
And when three times three hundred sixty weeks
Had passed, the boy had long become a man,
And left home, parents, and his woodland nook
To live in some strange city. There one eve
He sat and thought, tired with the day's hard toil,
Musing on what life held in store for him,
When suddenly he felt himself caught up
And set again beside that rock-bound spring;
The women three, he there beheld once more,
And this time clearly he could hear them speak.
These were the words the first one spake to him:
‘Think of me always whensoe'er thou art
O'ercome by loneliness, for I am she
Who lures the inner vision of mankind
To starry realms and heavenly distances.
And whosoever wills to feel my sway
To him I give a draught of life and hope
Out of the magic goblet which I hold.’
The second also spake these words to him:
‘Forget me not at times when thou art nigh
To losing courage on life's battlefield.
I lead men's yearning hearts to depths of soul
And also up to lofty spirit-heights.
And whosoever seeks his powers from me,
For him I forge unwavering faith in life
Shaped by the magic hammer which I wield.’
The third one gave her message in these words
‘Lift up thy spirit's eye to gaze on me
When by life's riddles thou art overwhelmed.
'Tis I who spin the threads of thought that lead
Through labyrinths of life and depths of soul.
And whosoever puts his trust in me
For him I weave the rays of living love
Upon this magic loom at which I sit.’
Thus it befell the man, and in the night
That followed on his visions he did dream,
How that a dragon wild in circles crept
Round him, but was not able to draw near.
He was protected from that dragon's claws
By those same beings whom he saw of old
Seated beside the spring among the rocks,
Who had gone with him, when he left his home,
To guard him in his strange environment.

Capesius:
Accept my thanks, dear dame, before I go,
For this rich treasure thou hast given me.

(Stands up to depart; Felix and Dame Felicia go into the house.)

(alone and at some distance)

I feel the health that such a picture brings
Into my soul, and how to all my thoughts
It can restore the forces they had lost.
Simple the tale unfolded by the dame,
And yet it rouseth powers of thought in me
That carry me away to worlds unknown....
Therefore will I in this fair solitude
Myself to dreams abandon, which so oft
Have sought to usher thoughts into my soul,
Thoughts which have proved themselves of higher worth
Than many a fruit of weeks of close research.

(He disappears behind some thick bushes. Enter Johannes, sunk in deep thought.)

Johannes to himself:
Was this some dream, or was it truth indeed?
I cannot bear the words my friend just spake
In calm serenity and yet so firm
About our separation which must come.
Would I might think it was but worldly sense,
That sets itself against the spirit's trend,
And, like a mirage, stands between us twain.—
I cannot, and I will not let the words
Of warning which Maria spake to me
Thus quench the sounding voice of mine own soul
Which says ‘I love her,’ says it night and day.
Out of the fountain of my love alone
Springs that activity for which I crave.
What value hath my impulse to create
Or yet my outlook on high spirit-aims
If they would rob me of that very light
Which can alone irradiate myself?
In this illumination must I live,
And if it is to be withdrawn from me
Then shall my choice be death for evermore.
I feel my forces fail me at this hour
As soon as I would set myself to think
That I must wander o'er a path whereon
Her light doth shed no more its radiant beam.

A mist begins to form before mine eyes
Which shrouds the marvels o'er, which used to make
These woods, these cliffs a glory to mine eyes
A fearful dream mounts from abysmal depths
Which shakes me through and through with fear and dread—

O get thee gone from me;—I yearn to be
Alone to dream my dreams;
In them at least I still can fight and strive
To win back that which now seems lost to me.

He will not go;—then will I fly from him.

(He feels as if he were rooted to the ground.)

What are the bonds that hold me prisoner
And chain me, as with fetters, to this place?

(The Double of Johannes Thomasius appears.)

Ah!—whosoe'er thou art; if human blood
Doth course within thy veins, or if thou art
Some spirit only—leave me and depart.
Who is it?—Here some demon brings to me,
My own self's likeness,—he will not depart;—
It is the picture of my very self
And seems to be more powerful than that self.—

Double (as if to Maria):
Maria, I do love thee;—beating heart
And fevered blood are mine when at thy side.
And when thine eye meets mine, my pulse doth thrill
With passion's tremor: when thy dearest hand
Doth nestle in mine own, my body swoons
With rapture and delight.

Johannes:
Thou phantom ghost,
Of mist and fog compact, how dost thou dare
To utter blasphemy and so malign
The purest feelings of my heart. How great
A load of guilt must I have laid on me,
That I must be compelled to look upon
Such lust—befouled distortion of that love
That is to me so holy.

Double (as if to Maria):
I have lent
Full oft unto thy words a listening ear.
I seemed to draw them up into my soul
As 'twere some message from the spirit-world.
But more than any scene thy words disclosed
I loved to have thy body close to mine.
And when thou spakst of soul-paths I was filled
With rapture that went leaping through my veins.

(The voice of conscience speaks.)

Conscience:
This is the unconfessed
But not yet dispossessed
Apparently repressed
Still by the blood possessed—
The secret fire
Of passionate desire.

Double (with a slightly different voice):
I have no power to go away from thee;
Oft wilt thou find me standing by thy side;
I leave thee not till thou hast found the power
Which makes of me the very counterpart
Of that pure being which thou shalt become.
As yet thou hast not reached that high estate,
Which still deluded by thy personal self
Thou thinkest falsely that thou hast attained.

(Enter Lucifer and Ahriman.)

Lucifer:
O man, o'ercome thyself.
O man, deliver me.
Thou hast defeated me
In thy soul's highest realm..,
But I am bound to thee
In thine own being's depth.
Me shalt thou ever find
Across thy path in life
If thou wouldst strive to shield
All of thyself from me.
O man, o'ercome thyself,
O man, deliver me.

Ahriman:
O man, be bold and dare.
O man, experience me.
Thou hast availed to win
To spirit seership here,
But I must spoil for thee
The longing of thy heart.
Still must thou suffer oft
Deep agony of soul,
If thou wilt not remain
In all humility
Within my bounds.
O man, be bold and dare.
O man, experience me.

(Lucifer and Ahriman vanish; the Double also. Johannes walks, deep in thought, into the dark recesses, of the forest. Capesius appears again. He has, from his post behind the bushes, watched the scene between Johannes and the Double as if it were a vision.)

Capesius:
What have I seen and heard! It lay on me
Just like some nightmare. Came Thomasius
Walking like one who is absorbed in thought;
Then he stood still; it seemed as if he talked
With someone, and yet no one else was there.
I felt o'ercome as by some deadly fear;
And saw no more of what went on around.
As if I were asleep, and unaware,
I must have sunk into yon picture-world
Which I can now so clearly call to mind.
It can indeed have been but little time
I sat and dreamed, unconscious of myself;
And yet, how rich was yonder world of dreams,
What strange impressions doth it make on me.
Persons were there who lived in bygone days;
I plainly saw them move and heard them speak.
I dreamed about a spirit-brotherhood
Which strove with steadfast purpose to attain
Unto the heights which crown humanity.
Among them I could clearly see myself
And all that happened was familiar too.
A dream.—... yet most unnerving was that dream.
I know that in this life I certainly
Can ne'er have learned to know the like of it.
And each impression that it leaves behind
Reacts like very life upon my soul.
Those pictures draw me with resistless power.—
O if I could but dream that dream again.

Curtain, whilst Capesius remains standing

A woodland meadow. In the background, high cliffs on which stands a castle. Summer evening. Country folk; Simon, the Jew; Thomas, the Master miner; the Monk. Countryfolk walking across the meadow, and stopping to talk.

First Countryman:
See yon vile Jew; he surely will not dare
To take the same road that we take ourselves;
For things might very well come to his ears
On hearing which they'd burn for many a day.

Second Countryman:
We must make clear to his effrontery,
Aye, very clear indeed, that we no more
Will tolerate his race in our good land
Across whose bounds he hath contrived to slink.

First Countrywoman:
He is protected by the noble knights.
Who live in yonder castle; none of us
May enter; but the Jew is welcome there.
For he doth do whate'er the knights desire.

Third Countryman:
'Tis very hard to know who serves the Lord
And who the devil. Thankful should we be
To our good lords who give us food and work.
What should we be if it were not for them?

Second Countrywoman:
The Jew shall have my praise his remedies
Have cured the evil sickness that I had.—
Besides, he was so good and kind to me;
And many more can tell the selfsame tale.

Third Countrywoman:
Yet did a monk let slip the truth to me,—
The Jew employs the devil's remedies
Beware his drugs; transformed within the blood
They grant an entrance to all kinds of sin.

Fourth Countryman:
The men who wait upon the knights oppose
Our ancient customs, saying that the Jew
Hath stores of knowledge both to heal and bless
Which will in days to come be rightly prized.

Fifth Countryman:
New times and better are in store; I see
Their coming in my spirit, when my soul
Pictures to me what eyes cannot behold.
The knights intend to bring all this about.

Fourth Countrywoman:
We owe the Church obedience, for she guards
Our souls from devil-visions, and from death,
And from hell-fire. The monks bid us beware
The knights, and their vile sorcerer, the Jew.

Fifth Countrywoman:
Only a short time longer need we bear
In patience the oppression of the knights.
Soon will their citadel in ruins lie.
Thus hath it been foretold me in a dream.

Sixth Countrywoman:
I fear such tales betoken mortal sin—
That noble knights do plot to bring us harm—
Nought do I see but good come from their hands;
I needs must count them Christians, as ourselves.

Sixth Countryman:
What men shall think of them in days to come
'Twere best to leave to be adjudged by those
Who shall live after us. Mere tools are we,
Used by the knights in their satanic arts
To war against true Christianity.
If they be driven out we shall be freed
From their pernicious sway, and live our lives
As we shall choose, in this our native land.
Now let us go to vespers, there to find
That which our souls require, and that which is
In harmony with our ancestral ways.
These novel teachings suit us not at all.

(Exeunt the countryfolk.)

(Simon, the Jew, enters from the wood.)

Simon:
Where'er I go, I find awaiting me
The ancient hatred and the bitter taunts.
And yet I suffer not a whit the less
Each time I find myself exposed to them.
There seems to be no reasonable cause
Why people should behave towards me thus.
And yet one thought pursues me evermore
Which Makes the truth apparent to my soul,—
That nothing can befall us without cause.
So too a reason there must be for this,
That suffering is the lot of all my tribe.
So with the lords of yonder citadel,
I find their lot is near akin to mine.
They have but chosen of their own free will
That which by nature is imposed on me.
They set themselves apart from all mankind,
And strive in isolation to acquire
The powers through which they may attain their goal.
Thus can I feel the debt I owe to fate
And find her blessing in my loneliness.
Forced to rely on mine own soul alone
I took the realms of science for my field,
And recognized from what I learned therein
That ripe for new attainments was our time.
The laws of nature, hitherto unknown,
Must now reveal themselves unto mankind
And make him master of the world of sense
Whence he will be allowed to liberate
Powers he can put to use for his own ends.
So have I tried, as far as in me lay,
To make fresh progress in the healing art.
This toil endeared me to the brotherhood;
Its members made me free of their estates
To seek to find the forces that reside
In plants and 'neath the surface of the ground,
That they may yield for us new benefits.
My actions therefore march with their designs,
And I confess that I have plucked with joy
Much goodly fruit whilst going on my way.

(Exit into the wood.)

(Thomas, the Master miner, enters from the wood. Enter the Monk.)

Thomas:
Here will I sit and rest a little while.
My soul hath need of rest to find itself
After the shocks which I have had to bear.

(The Monk comes up to him.)

Monk:
I greet thee heartily, most valiant son.
Thou hast come here in search of solitude.
Thy work well done, thou wouldst have peace and quiet
In which to turn thy thoughts to spirit-worlds.
To see my well-loved pupil thus employed
Rejoiceth me. But why so sad-thine eyes?
'Twould seem anxiety weighs down thy soul.

Thomas:
Pain oft is neighbour unto highest bliss;
That this is so mine own life proves to-day.

Monk:
Hast thou then met with bliss and pain at once?

Thomas:
I told thee, reverend father, that I loved
The overseer's daughter, and confessed
That she was also greatly drawn to me.
She is to marry me and share my life.

Monk:
She will be true to thee, come weal, come woe;
She is a faithful daughter of the Church.

Thomas:
Such an one only would I take to wife;
Since, honoured master, I have learned from thee
The meaning of obedience to God's will.

Monk:
And art thou also certain of thy soul,
That it will walk still further in the way
Of righteousness, which I have pointed out?

Thomas:
So sure as in this body beats a heart
So sure will I, thy son, be true for aye
To those exalted teachings which of old
From thine own lips I was allowed to learn.

Monk:
And now that thou hast told me of thy bliss
Let me,hear also from thee of thy woe.

Thomas:
Oft have I told thee what my life hath been.
Scarce had I left my childhood's days behind
Than I began to travel and to roam.
I never worked for long in any place.
Ever I cherished in my heart the wish
To meet my father, whom I loved, although
I had not heard a good report of him.
He left my dear good mother all alone
Because he wished to start his life anew
Unhampered by a wife and children twain.
The impulse for adventure dwelt in him.
I was a child still, when he went from us;
My sister was a tiny new-born babe;
My mother died of grief in no long time.
My sister was adopted by good folk
Who later moved away from my old home,
And of her fate I never more heard tell.
Some relatives assisted me to learn
A miner's work, in which I grew expert,
So that I found employment where I wished.
The hope that some day I should once more find
My father, never vanished from my heart.
And now at last my hope is realized
But also is for ever torn from me.
Matters of business led me yesterday
To seek for speech with my superior.
Thou knowest how lightly I esteem the knight
Who issueth directions for my work,
Since I have learned he is thine enemy.
From that time forward I made up my mind
Not to remain in service under him.
For reasons which remain unknown to me
The knight alluded in our interview
To matters which allowed him to declare
Himself to be—the father whom I sought.
What followed ... I would gladly leave untold.
It would not have been hard to overlook
My mother's sufferings at his hands, and mine,
When he and I once more stood face to face,
And when he spoke, grief-burdened, of old days.
But in his form, stood facing me, thy foe.
And one thing then was manifest to me:—
How deep a gulf must ever separate
Myself from him, whom I so fain would love,
And whom I sought so long and ardently.
Now have I lost him for the second time,—
Such is the lot that hath befallen me.

Monk:
I would not e'er estrange thee from those ties
Imposed on thee by blood-relationship.
But what I can bestow upon thy soul
Shall ever be to thee a gift of love.

Curtain

A chamber in the castle whose exterior was shown in the preceding scene. Decorated throughout with symbols of a Mystic Brotherhood. (For costumes, see note on page 145.) Columns, arches, and vaulted roof with the mystic symbols shown in the Author's ‘Occult Symbols.’ First the Knights assemble; then the Monk and one of the Knights later appears the spirit of Benedictus who has passed away about fifty years earlier. Then Lucifer and Ahriman. The Grand Master seated at a long table with four of the Brethren, indicated in the course of the scene.

Grand Master:
Ye who are joined with me in comradeship
To seek the goal appointed unto man,
And bring that knowledge from the spirit-realm
Into the scope of earth's activities,
As is appointed to our brotherhood,
Must also truly help me in this hour
When heavy trials impend. Then, know ye all
That since our venerated master fell,
A victim by the Powers of Darkness claimed,
Who draw their strength from Evil, helping on
The plan of Wisdom by their natural means,
That is by means of Opposition's strength,
Since Wisdom turneth Evil into Good.
Since that sad loss we strive on earth in vain,
For many a castle of our brotherhood
Hath by our enemies been overwhelmed,
And many Brethren dear to us have fallen
In fight, and followed our great Master home
Into the realm of everlasting light.
For us too doth the hour approach apace
When these stout walls that shelter us shall fall.
Our foes already spy the country round
To find a pretext under which they may
Rob us of our possessions, ne'er acquired
For our own use, but as a means to draw
Around us individuals, in whose souls
We could implant the germs of things to come.
These germs shall ripen when those men themselves
Find their way back from out the spirit-land
To live anew in future days on earth.

First Master of Ceremonies:
That this our brotherhood should be o'erthrown
By some obscure design of destiny,
Is something nowise inconceivable.
But that the fall of our community
Should doom so many brothers' single lives,
Would seem to contravene the cosmic law.
I do not wish my words to make complaint,
Since willingly our brothers suffer death.
But still my soul desires to comprehend
The sacrifice demanded from these men
Who have allied themselves unto a whole,
Because the powers of destiny decree
The overthrow and ruin of that whole.

Grand Master:
The separate life of individual men
Is linked most wisely to the world's design.
Amongst our brothers there will surely be
Some who have given proof of competence
To serve our brotherhood with their soul's power
And yet whose nature still shows many a stain.
The errors and misdeeds of such a heart
Must find their expiation in the pain
Suffered by it in service for the whole.
And he who, blameless both in act and deed,
Must none the less walk in the thorny way
Traced by the Karma of the brotherhood,
Will find his pain requited by the power
To mount aloft unto the higher life.

First Master of Ceremonies:
So then the brotherhood may tolerate
Within its ranks souls not yet purified
Who vow themselves to its exalted aims?

Grand Master:
He who to lofty works is dedicate
Doth mark alone the goodness in men's souls;
He lets the evil work its ransom out
As cosmic justice in its course decides.
My brothers, I have bid you meet me here
In order to remind you with grave words
That we have duties in our days of grief.
We must be ready to lay down our lives
For those high purposes to which we swore
Lifelong allegiance, Truly ye are
My brothers, if undauntedly your souls
Repeat the motto of our brotherhood:
‘Separate existence must be sacrificed
By those who would set eyes on spirit goals,
Piercing the outer veil of world of sense,
And dare to let the spirit's will pour down
And flood their individual purposes.’

First Preceptor:
Exalted Master, shouldst thou design to test
The heart of each man in our brotherhood,
It would repeat that motto loud and clear!—
Yet do we beg thee to explain to us
Why, not content with robbing us of life
And our possessions, now our enemies
Would rob us also of those humble souls
Whom we have tended with unselfish love.
For every day affords new evidence
That not alone compulsion makes our folk
Submit themselves unto our conquerors;
But that indeed they too have learned to hate
The spirit-path which we had shown to them.

Grand Master:
That which we have implanted in men's souls
May die indeed to-day; but these same men,
Who once have breathed our spirit-radiance,
Will come again to earth, and then bestow
Upon the world the fruitage of our work.
Thus speaks unto my spirit oftentimes
Our mighty leader from the realm of death,
When in my quiet hours, I do sink down
Into my soul's deep places, and arouse
Strength to abide awhile in spirit-lands.
Then may I feel the master's presence near
And hear his words, as in the life of sense
I often heard them. Never doth he speak
About our work as drawing to a close;
But only of fulfilment of our aims
In later days that are to come on earth.

(Exeunt the Grand Master and two of the Brotherhood.)

First Preceptor:
He speaks of spirit-worlds in just such words
As men may speak of villages or towns.
The way in which our loftiest brothers speak
Of other states of life oppresseth me.
And yet I am devoted fervently
Unto the progress of our earthly aims.

Second Master of Ceremonies:
I place reliance in our master's words.
The man who cannot hear with perfect faith
The tale of spirit and of spirit-worlds,
Is nowise lacking in capacity
To grasp a revelation of this kind.
The things he lacks are of a different mould.
Though he admit it not, he well may feel
That he is conscious of unworthiness
To be a member of the higher worlds.
A soul must be defiled by secret stains
And eager to deny that they are there,
That will not bow before the spirit-lore.

(Exeunt.)

(Enter the Monk; the Second Preceptor enters and steps up to him)

Second Preceptor:
What errand bringeth thee to this our house
Which is for thee the home of enemies?

Monk:
I must include amongst my friends all those
Who bear the form of men this is our rule.
But hostile thou mayst well esteem the claim
Which I, by duty bound, must here present.
Those who are over me have sent me here,
And their desire is that the property
Belonging to the Church, as by old deeds
Is well attested, should be given back
To them without dispute. You tract of ground
Upon which ye have sunk your mine, belongs
In law and equity unto the Church.
The manner in which ye possessed yourselves
Of this estate confers no legal rights.

Second Preceptor:
Whether in law we have a right to call
It ours or no, would constitute a case
For legal disputation long drawn out.
But certain 'tis that it belongs to us
If we refer it to a higher law.
You tract of ground was lying lost and waste
When it was purchased by our brotherhood
Not e'en an inkling had ye of the fact
That far below rich treasure lay concealed.
This have we won for human industry:
Its treasures travel far and wide to-day
To distant lands, to further human weal,
And many honest souls are now at work
In shaft and tunnel underneath the ground
Which in your hands lay waste and desolate.

Monk:
Then it doth not seem fair and right to thee
To urge upon thy brotherhood the need
Of peaceably accepting our demand
That so we may regain our property?

Second Preceptor:
Since we are not aware of any guilt,
But are convinced our cause is wholly just,
We can but wait in quiet confidence
To see if ye are really bent. on strife,
When as before, yourselves are in the wrong.

Monk:
Then will ye have to thank your headstrong will
If we are driven to a sterner course.

Second Preceptor:
The honour of our brotherhood demands
That only when defeated, sword in hand,
Do we allow ourselves to be despoiled.

Monk:
So be it! Now my mission is fulfilled,
Between us there is no more need of words.
Will it be possible for me to have
An audience with thy lord, who here commands?

Second Preceptor:
The Master doubtless will concede thee this;
Yet wait, I pray thee, for a little while.
He cannot at this moment come to thee.

(Exit.)

Monk:
O, that mine office forceth me to tread
The halls of this detested brotherhood!
Turn where they may, my eyes must contemplate
Sinful devices and satanic spells.—
Almost a horror seizeth hold on me;—
A crackling and a rumbling fill the air;—
I feel the powers of ill are gathered round.

(Noises heard.)

But as my conscience is entirely clear
I will defy the enemy.

(Noises heard.)

Oh, this
Is terrible.

(The spirit of Benedictus appears.)

Defend me, Saints of Heaven!

Benedictus:
Collect thyself, my son. I often came
To meet thee, when the fervour of thy prayers
Transported thee unto the spirit-world.
Take therefore courage in this present hour
And learn a truth which thou must realize
If spirit clearness is to hold its sway
And drive away the darkness from thy soul.

Monk:
When in my trials I prayed to Heaven for light,
And when my supplication winged its way
To realms celestial, and won repose,
Thou, venerated master, didst appear.
Thou, who wast aye our Order's ornament,
The while thou wert amongst us here on earth,
And out of higher realms didst speak to me,
Enlightening my mind and strengthening me.
My soul beheld thee with its inner eye,
My spirit ear was open to thy words.
In this hour also then, will I receive
The revelation with humility
Which thou shalt cause to flow into my soul.

Benedictus:
Thou art within that brotherhood's abode
Whom thou dost charge with wicked heresies.
They seem to hate what we are taught to love
And hold in honour what we count as sin.
Our brethren feel themselves in duty bound
To haste the spirit-brethren's overthrow,
And think their action sanctioned by the words
I spake myself whilst I was still on earth.
Yet do they not imagine that these words
Can only hold the living truth so long
As they are livingly evolved by those
Who have been my successors in my work.—
So let those thoughts which I once held on earth
Rise up afresh and live within thy soul
In harmony with needs of newer times;
And thus behold this Order, which doth seek
Its goal in mystic realms, as I should judge
And look on it, if it had been my lot
To dwell on earth and work with thee to-day.
This brotherhood is vowed to lofty aims;
Those human beings who have joined its ranks
Have premonitions of the days to come
Their leaders see with a prophetic eye
The fruits that shall grow ripe in future times.
Science and daily life shall undergo
A change of form and seek ideals new;
And what this brotherhood doth now achieve,
Whom thou hast lent a hand to persecute,
Are deeds which serve to bring this change about.
Alone by peaceful union of the aims
Sought by our brethren and these heretics
Can good be made to blossom on this earth.

Monk:
This warning, of which I am worthy found,
How can I act upon it? It departs
Amazingly from all that I have held,
Up to this moment, to be right and good.

(Ahriman and, Lucifer appear.)

But other beings now are drawing nigh!
Why do they come and stand beside thee now?

Ahriman:
This further message comes from other realms.
It cannot seem an easy thing for thee
Thy predecessor's bidding to obey,
Reflect—he dwells in everlasting bliss.
And actions by decree and duty there
Desirable, may well upon the earth
Lead to confusion at the present time.
Lift up thine eyes to where he dwells on high
If thou wouldst seek for comfort from the bliss
Which, when the latter days of earth draw near,
By cosmic spirits is to be bestowed.
But if at present thou wouldst act aright,
Be guided only, in the choice of paths,
By that which reason and the senses teach.
Thou hast been able clearly to discern
The sinful ways of yonder brotherhood
Which they would fain keep secret from the world;
Thus hast thou learned that laws for future life
Can well be framed by souls now steeped in sin!
How canst thou wish, now that thou knowest these things,
To live in friendship with the brotherhood?
For error is a poor and sterile soil
Where good fruit cannot come to ripening.

Lucifer:
Thy pious mind hath shown the road to thee.
It is most true that times and objects change;
But none the less 'tis not for heretics
To trace the paths on which mankind must tread.
The error of this spirit-brotherhood
Is dangerous, because it speaks the truth,
And yet expresses it in such a way
As makes the truth more deadly than a lie.
A man who openly avowed he lied
Would have to be bereft of common sense
'Ere he could bring himself to such belief
That men would gladly follow where he led.
The spirit-knights indeed are shrewd of mind;
They do not fail to speak about the Christ
Because this name can open every door
That gives admission to the souls of men.
But ever can men easiest be led
Into the service of the Antichrist
When in the name of Christ he is proclaimed.

Monk:
Conflicting voices from the world of souls
Assail mine ears, as often heretofore,
And always with an aim to counteract
The pious promptings of a mind devout.
How shall I find the paths that lead to good
If by the Powers of Evil they be praised?
Almost it seems to me as if indeed—
But no, such words shall not be thought by me—,
The wisdom of my master shall reveal
The meaning of his words, so dark to me.

Benedictus:
I can direct thee to the proper path,
If thou wilt let the words which once I spake
On earth possess thee in thine inmost soul.
And if thou art resolved to find the life
That lives within those words upon those planes
On which thou now canst see me face to face,
The proper path shall be made plain to thee.

Curtain, while the Monk, the Spirit of Benedictus,
Lucifer, and Ahriman are still on the stage