Scene 1

Scene 1The library and study of Capesius. 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 realmOf thought, conformably to self-made laws:—Thus erring human nature often seeksTo find the meaning and the goal of life:The soul from its own depths would draw repliesTo questions that concern the universe.Yet such attempts are vain, illusoryE’en at the outset, and they lead at lastTo feeble visions which destroy themselves.’(Speaking as follows.)Thus is portrayed in words of import graveThrough 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 lifeUntil this day, with cruel vividness.And should a god this very hour appearDescending on me in a raging stormAnd clad in wrath, yet could his threatening mightNot torture me with more appalling fearsThan do the Master’s words, as strong as fate.Long hath my life been, but its web displaysNothing but pictures shadowy and dimWhich haunt my dreaming soul and fondly striveTo mirror truths of nature and of mind.With this dream-fabric hath my thought essayedTo solve the riddle 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 soulWhen threads of thought along illusion’s pathSpun themselves out to cosmic distances.So that which I in my content beheldIn 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 soulTo that exalted spiritual wayWhich transforms human life, and makes to riseFrom hidden gulfs of soul the energyWhich feeds the springs of life within ourselves.That which awoke from out his inmost soulAbides in every man. And since from himI gained this revelation, I do countAs chief amongst the many sins of lifeTo let the spirit’s treasure grow corrupt.I know henceforth that I must search and seekAnd nevermore allow myself to doubt.In days gone by my vanity of thoughtCould have enticed me to the false beliefThat unto knowledge man aspires in vain;And only failure and despair belongTo those who would lay bare the springs of life.And were all wisdom to unite in this,And were I powerless to reject the claimThat human destiny demands of manThat he shall lose his individual selfAnd sink into the gulf of nothingness,Yet would I make the venture unafraid.Such thoughts would be a sacrilege today,Since I have learned I cannot win reposeUntil the spirit treasure in my soulHath been unveiléd to the light of day.The fruits of work of spirit-entitiesHave been implanted in the human soul,And whoso leaves the spirit seed to lieUnheeded and decay, he brings to noughtThe work divine committed unto man.Thus do I recognize life’s highest task;Yet when I try to take one single stepAcross the threshold that I dare not shun,I feel my strength desert me, which of yoreDid pride itself on elevated thought,And sought the goals of life in time and space.Once did I reckon it an easy thingTo set the brain in action and to graspThe nature of reality by thought.But now, when I would search the fount of lifeAnd 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 wordsOf 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 awayWhat time thou dost withdraw into thyself;For only when thine own light is put outWill spirit-radiance show itself to thee.’(Resuming his soliloquy.)It seems as though I could not draw my breathWhen 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 everythingWhich hitherto was my environmentIs crumbling into ruin, and therewithI too am crumbling into nothingness.An hundred times at least have I perusedThe words which follow, and each several timeDarkness 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 distancesBy fantasies of dreamy thought beguiled.Do thou begin in farthest spirit-realmsAnd end in the recesses of thy soul.The plan divine then shalt thou recognizeWhen 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 thineFor lofty spirit-flight;Its sure foundation restsUpon the human will.Its temper hath been triedBy sure and certain hope.It hath grown strong as steelBy sight of future times.Thou dost but courage lackTo pour into thy willThy confidence in life.Into the vast UnknownDare but to venture forth!Astrid:From cosmic distancesAnd from the sun’s glad light,From utmost realms of starsAnd magic might of worlds,From heaven’s ethereal blueAnd spirit’s lofty power,Win mightiness of soul;And send its radiant beamsDeep down within thine heart;That knowledge glowing warmMay thus be born in thee.The Other Philia:They are deceiving theeThis evil sisterhood;They seek but to ensnareBy trickery and guile.The gifts so seeming fairWhich they have offered theeWill vanish into airWhen thou wouldst hold them fastWith all thy human strength.They lead thee on to worldsInhabited by gods,Where thou wilt be destroyedIf, once within their realm,Thou strivest to o’ercomeBy human strength alone.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 myselfAnd yet that too seems quite impossible—For ne’er could I imagine such discourseAs here I listened to.…As here I listened to....Am I still heI was before?(From his gestures it is plain he feels unable to reply ‘yes.’)I was before?Oh! I am—I am not.The Spirit-Voice of Conscience:Thy thoughts do now descendTo depths of human lifeAnd what as soul doth compass thee aroundAnd what as spirit is enchained in thee,Is lost in cosmic depth,From whose fulness quaffingMankind doth live in thought;From whose fulness livingMankind 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 thouShouldst find me in worse case than now I am.That I am not this moment on the groundProstrate before thy feet, after such painAs even now hath racked my soul, I oweTo thy kind glance alone which sought mine own,So soon as thou didst with thy gentle touchArouse me from the horrors of my dream.Benedictus:I am aware that I have found thee nowFighting a battle for thy very life.Since I have known full well this long time pastThat thus it was appointed us to meet.Prepare to change the sense of many wordsIf thou wouldst understand my speech arightAnd do not marvel that thy present painBears in my language quite another name—I call thy state good fortune.Capesius:I call thy state good fortune.Then indeedThou dost but heap the measure of the woeWhich casts me into gloom’s abysmal depths.Just now I felt as if my real selfHad flown afar to cosmic distances,And unfamiliar beings through its sheathsWere speaking here. But this I took to beHallucination, 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 notMy fevered dreaming was good fortune; elseI shall be lost indeed.Benedictus:I shall be lost indeed.A man can loseNought else but that which keeps him separateFrom cosmic being. When he seems to loseThat which in dreamy fantasies of thoughtHe misapplied to labours purposeless,Then let him seek for what has gone from him.For he will surely find it, and withalThe proper use to which it should be putIn human life. Mere words of comfort nowWere nothing more than clever play on words.Capesius:Nay—lore that may by simple human witBe comprehended thou dost not impart.Bitter experience has shown me this.Like deeds which lead one on to lofty heightsAnd also cast one to abysmal depths,Thy counsels pour a stream of fiery lifeAnd also deathly chill into men’s souls.They work at once e’en as the nod of fateAnd also as a storm of living love.Much had I sought and thought in earlier daysBefore I met thee; yet the spirit’s powers,Creative and destructive, I have learnedOnly since I have followed in thy steps.The turmoil and confusion of my soul,Caused by thy words, was evident when thouDidst come within my chamber. Oft I feltMuch pain whilst reading in thy book of life,Until today my cup of woe was full.And so my agony of soul o’erflowed,Spilled by thy fateful words. Their meaning sweptO’er all my soul unrecognized, and yetLike some elixir they revived my heart.In such wise wrought they in the magic worldsThat all my clarity of sense was lost.Then ghostly phantoms made a mock of me,And words of import dark I seemed to hearIssue from my distraught tormented soul.I know that all the secrets thou dost guardFor human souls may not be written down,But that the answer to men’s doubts may beRevealed to each according to his need.So grant me that of which I stand in need;For verily I must indeed be toldWhat robbed me of my senses and my witsAnd compassed me with magic’s airy spells.Benedictus:Another meaning hides within my wordsThan that of the ideas which they convey;They guide the natural forces of the soulTo spirit-verities; their inward senseCannot be understood until the dayOn which they waken vision in the soulThat 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 whichThe 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 theeFrom being swept away to worlds that seemTo thee fantastic. Thou hast seen a realmWhich must remain illusion just as longAs thou dost lose thyself on entering it.But wisdom’s outer portal will be foundUnsealed to thine advancing soul so soonAs thou dost near it with self-consciousness.Capesius:And how can I maintain self-consciousness?Benedictus:The answer to this riddle thou shalt findWhen, with awakened inner eye, thou dostPerceive before thee many wondrous things,Which shortly will be found to cross thy path.Know that a test hath been ordained for theeBy lords of fate and by the spirit-powers.(Exit.)Capesius:Althoughtheir meaning is not clear to meI feel his words at work within myself.He hath appointed me a goal; and IAm ready to obey. He doth not askFor stress of thought; it seems that he desiresI should press forward with exploring feetTo 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 divineThe nature of the spell that shook me so,I will not shrink from facing these eventsWhich his prophetic vision hath foretold.Curtain whilst Capesius remains standingScene 2A 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 invokeWise counsel from my master in this hour.Gloomy forebodings rise within my heart.And I am powerless to withstand the thoughtsThat overwhelm me ever and again.They pierce me to my being’s inmost core;They seek to lay upon me a commandWhich to obey doth seem like sacrilege.Deceitful powers must be obsessing me;Oh, I implore thee—lend me aid … that IMay exorcise them.Benedictus:May exorcise them.Never shalt thou lackWhat thou dost need of me at any time.Maria:I know how closely to my soul are knitJohannes’ life and aims. A stony roadOf fate brought us together; and God’s willHath hallowed in high spirit-realms our bond.All this stands out before me e’en as clearAs only truth itself can be. And yet—Horror o’erpowers me that these lips of mineMust utterance give to sacrilegious words—And yet—deep in my soul I hear a voiceWhich tells me plainly and repeatedlyDespite my utmost will to fight it down:‘Thou must give up Johannes, let him go.No longer mayst thou keep him at thy sideIf thou wouldst not work evil to his soul.Alone he must proceed along the roadOn which he travels to his longed for goal.’I know that if thou dost but speak the wordThis lying dream will cease to haunt my soul.Benedictus:Maria, noble grief leads thee astrayTo see the truth yet call it counterfeit.Maria:What I have seen—is truth.… It cannot be!Between my master’s utterance and mine earDelusion steals. O speak to me again.Benedictus:What I have spoken, thou hast heard aright:Thy love is noble, and Johannes standsClose-knit to thee. But love must not forgetThat she is wisdom’s sister. Long indeedFor his salvation hath Johannes beenWith thee united. Now his soul demands,For its own progress, freedom to pursueIts aims unhindered. Fate doth not decreeThat ye shall be no longer outward friends;But this it doth demand with strict decreeJohannes’ freedom in the spirit-realm.Maria:Still do I hear delusion: so let meAlone continue speaking, for I knowThat thou must understand me without fail.For sure it is no lying shape will dareTo change the words unto thine ear addressed.My host of doubts were easily dispersedIf earth-life’s tortuous course alone it wereThat knits Johannes’ soul unto mine own.But to our bond was lofty sanction givenWhich knits soul unto soul eternally.And spirit-powers did speak with blessings meetThe word that bans all doubt for evermore:‘He hath won truth within th’ eternal realmsBecause in worlds of sense his inmost selfAlready was united with thine own.’What can this revelation mean to meIf now its very opposite is true?Benedictus:Thou hast to learn that even one to whomThere hath been much revealed, may yet be foundLacking perfection still in divers ways.Tangled the paths that lead to higher truth: …And only those may hope to reach the goalWho walk in patience through their labyrinths.Thou didst but see one part of what is realIn that great realm of everlasting light,When with thine inner vision thou didst gazeUpon a picture of the spirit-land.Not yet hast thou seen full reality.Johannes’ soul is knit unto thine ownBy earthly ties of such complexityThat it may be allotted unto eachTo find his way into the spirit-realmThrough forces borrowed from the other one.But nothing hitherto hath clearly shownThat thou hast conquered each and every test.To see a picture hath been granted theeOf what the future holds for thee in storeWhen thou canst pass unscathed the full ordeal.That thou hast seen the ultimate rewardOf unremitting effort is no signThat thou hast reached the end of all thy strife.Thou hast beheld a picture, which thy willAlone can turn unto reality.Maria:Although thy words just spoken fall on meLike 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 lightWhen it doth prove itself through inward force.Already something is becoming clearWhich up till now lay hidden in my heart.But when in highest bliss delusion’s snareDoth wear the mask of truth to human minds,Darkness of soul is difficult to ban.I need still more than that which thou hast givenTo plumb the depth of meaning in thy words.Thou once didst lead myself to those soul-depthsWherein a light was then vouchsafed to meBy which I could behold the lives I spentIn previous incarnations long ago.Thus was it granted me to learn the wayIn which my soul was linked unto my friend’s.My act of bringing, in those days of old,Johannes’ soul unto the spirit-fountI felt and recognized to be the seedWhich grew and bore such cherished friendship’s fruit,As was found ripe for all eternity.Benedictus:Thou wast accounted worthy to retraceThy path on earth in days long since gone by.But thou must not forget to look and seeIf thou canst be assured with certaintyThat of thine actions none remain concealedWhen backward thou didst 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 backOver a period of bygone timesDeluded me to vain forgetfulnessOf manifold shortcomings. Not till nowDid I foresee that I must turn my gazeInto the darkness ere I comprehendThe road that leads back from this present lifeTo olden days when my friend’s soul sought mine.To thee, my master, will I make my vowHenceforth to bridle my soul’s arrogance …!Now for the first time do I realizeHow pride of knowledge leads the soul astray;So that, instead of its imbibing strengthFrom freely offered stores of spirit-wealth,It misapplies the gift in wanton useAnd 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 farI am today e’en from the nearest goal.No more will I be overswift to readA meaning into words from spirit-lands.I will esteem them power wherewith my soulMay shape its course—, not as some message sentTo free me from the need of finding outThe goal of action in my daily life.Had I paid earlier heed unto this truthAnd gone my way in due humility;I had not failed to see that only thenWhen he decides to tread a path not tracedBy me beforehand, can my friend unfoldTo fullest bloom his richly-gifted soul.And now that this is clear I shall not failIn finding strength sufficient to fulfilWhat love and duty may require of me.Yet do I feel assured this very hourMore clearly than I ever was beforeThat some grave testing of my soul draws nigh.For mostly, when men tear from out their heartsThat 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 uprootThe workings of my soul’s life, which I sawAccomplishing themselves in my friend’s acts;And still unchanging must my love abide.Benedictus:If thou wouldst steer thy course direct, thou mustBecome aware of what thou most didst prizeIn this thy love. For once thou knowst the forceThat 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 aidOf which my soul so sorely stands in need.I must investigate mine inmost selfWith earnest questioning: and so I ask,What potent cause impels me in my love?I see my own soul’s life and strength at workIn my friend’s nature and activities.So that which I desire to satisfyIs nothing but the hunger of myself,Which I, deluded, call unselfishness.Thus it hath been concealed from me till nowThat in my friend I mirror but myself.It was the dragon Selfishness who veiledThe truth from me in wrappings of deceit.And selfishness can take an hundred forms:—I see it clearly now. And when one thinksThe enemy subdued, behold him riseOut of defeat and stronger than before.Moreover ’tis a foe with added skillTo hide the truth with cloak of counterfeit.(Maria sinks into deep thought.)(The three Spirit-Figures of the soul-powers appear.)Maria:Ye sisters, whom I find in Being’s depthsWhene’er my soul expands and guides herselfTo cosmic distances, release for meFrom out the ether’s heights the powers of sightAnd lead them hence to earthly paths, that IMay know myself as I exist in Time,And may be able to direct my courseFrom Life’s old ways unto new spheres of Will.Philia:From my heart’s depths will I myself imbueWith soul’s aspiring light; I will breathe deepFrom spirit-forces living powers of Will;That thou, beloved sister, mayest seekAnd find the light in bygone spheres of life.Astrid:With selfhood, conscious of itself, will IWeave in the self-surrendering Will of love;I will set free from fetters of desireThe budding powers of Will, and will transformThy crippled wish to spirit-certainty;That thou, beloved sister, mayest learnTo find thyself in distant paths of life.Luna:I will call self-denying powers of heart;And will make firm enduring soul-repose;Then shall they wed, and raise up spirit-lightIn all its power from out the depths of soul.Then shall they interpenetrate and forceEarth’s bounds to heed the listening spirit-ear,Compel earth’s distances to answer.That thou, beloved sister, mayest findLife’s varied traces in Time’s vast expanse.Maria(after a pause):If I can only tear myself awayFrom my bewildered consciousness of selfAnd give myself to you: that thus ye mayReflect my very soul from cosmic space;Then from this sphere of life I gain release,And find myself in other states of being.(Long pause, then the following:)In you, my sisters, I see spirit-formsIn whom dwell cosmic souls. Ye have the powerTo bring seed-forces from eternal realmsTo fruitage in humanity itself.Through my soul’s gates oft have I found the wayInto your kingdom, and have there beheldThe primal shaping of this earthly globeWith inner vision. Now your help I craveSince I am bidden to retrace the wayThat stretches back far from my present lifeTo long past ages of humanity.Release my soul from consciousness of selfIn time-enclosed existence, and revealThe duties laid on me by former lives.A Spirit-voice,—the spiritual conscience:Her thoughts are seeking nowFor clues in Time’s vast space.What as debt she still doth owe,What as duty is imposed,Arise from out her inmost depths of soul,From whose deepness dreamingMankind doth guide his life,In whose deepness strayingMankind himself doth lose.Curtain falls; everybody still standing on the stageScene 3A 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 gaveHints to assist the progress of my workFrom her rich store of wisdom manifold.Little as I can trust myself to judgeWhether my art indeed accomplishesThe task our spirit-current hath imposed,Yet is my confidence in her complete.And ever through my spirit ring her wordsWhich lent me strength and brought me happinessWhen I took courage and began this work.‘In such a way as this,’ she said, ‘thou canstAttempt this enterprise, and so revealThy 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 representOn canvas through thy skill the higher realms.’I feel the power that dwells within these wordsAnd diffidently yield to that beliefThat I am drawing nearer to the goalWhich Benedictus hath appointed me.Full oft I sat discouraged at my work;It seemed at one time so presumptuous,And at another so impossibleTo represent in colour and in formThe visions that are granted to my soul.How can the ceaseless web of spirit-life,Which is revealed to inner sight aloneAnd 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 blessednessUnto creative forces of the worlds,At once belief awakens in an artAs true and mystic as our spirit-quest.I learned to live with light, and recognizeIn colour’s power the action of that light,As faithful students of true mystic loreSee in realms reft of colour and of formThe spirit’s deeds and soul’s reality.Relying on this spirit-light, I wonThis power to feel in flowing sea of light,And live within the stream of glowing tints;And sense those spirit-forces which maintainTheir 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 moreOf 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 cravedThy coming, yet I marked not thine approach!Maria:I must rejoice to find my friend so wraptIn work as to forget his friend herself.Johannes:Nay, speak not thus, since thou dost know full wellThat I cannot create one single thoughtWhich hath not first been hallowed by thine aid.No work of mine owes not its life to thee.Through thy love’s fire have I been purified;Through thee my art hath learned to representThe 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 riseFrom thy soul’s spring and flow thence into mine,Ere I can feel the wings that lift me upTo 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 powerAnd make an artist’s work bear fruit and live.If I, as artist, am to carry backPictures of spirit to the world of sense,Then cosmic spirit must speak forth through me,My personality be but its tool.I must first burst the bonds of selfishnessEre I can know that I shall not mistakeFor spirit-worlds my own vain fantasies.Maria:And if thou hadst to seek through thine own sightAnd not through mine the true source of thy work,It might well be that, coming from one soulThy dream of beauty might be unified.Johannes:I should be spinning webs of idle thoughtIn 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 soulAnd find delight in wide-flung spirit-worlds:I can be lost to all the world of senseAnd follow colour-wonders with mine eyeAnd watch creative energies at work,If I am left with mine own soul alone.Whate’er may thus befall me I am notThereby impelled to my creative art.But if I follow thee to cosmic heights,And in warm rapture live again what thouAlready hast in spirit there beheld,Then in my spirit-sight I feel a fireWhich burns on in me also, and whose flamesKindle the powers that drive me to my work.If my desire were simply to relateThat which I can find out in higher worlds,Then with my soul I well might upward soarTo spheres where spirit unto spirit speaks.But as an artist I must find that fireWhich lights the picture and inflames the heart.And my soul cannot to my picture giveThe magic warmth that streams through human hearts,Till it can quench its thirst with spirit-truthsRevealed 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 speechHath often led me on to learn unseen.In hues ethereal of the spirit-worldI sought to densify what hid from sight;And felt how colours longed to see themselvesMirrored as spirit in the souls of men.So doth my friend’s soul speak as if ’twere mineOut 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 soulsNot kill their individuality.The moment is upon us, when we twainMust test our souls, and find the spirit-pathThat 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 thyselfPortrayed in other souls.The power of thine own selfMust root in cosmic soil,If from the spirit-heightsThou wouldst indeed transplantTheir beauty to earth’s depths.Be bold to be thyself,That thou, strong souled, mayst giveThyself to cosmic powers—a willing sacrifice.Astrid:In all thy ways on earthThou must not lose thyself;Mankind doth not attainTo sun-kissed distancesIf he would rob himself of personality.So then prepare thyself,Press on through earthly loveTo utmost depths of heartWhich ripen cosmic love.The Other Philia:O heed the sisters not;They lead thee far astrayTo cosmic distances,And rob thee of earth’s touch.They do not understandThat earthly love bears traceOf cosmic love itself.In cold their natures dwellAnd warmth flies from their powers.They fain would lure mankindFrom out his own soul depthsTo cold and lofty worlds.Curtain: Johannes, Philia, Astrid, Luna, and the Other Philia still standing

The library and study of Capesius. 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 realmOf thought, conformably to self-made laws:—Thus erring human nature often seeksTo find the meaning and the goal of life:The soul from its own depths would draw repliesTo questions that concern the universe.Yet such attempts are vain, illusoryE’en at the outset, and they lead at lastTo feeble visions which destroy themselves.’

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 graveThrough 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 lifeUntil this day, with cruel vividness.And should a god this very hour appearDescending on me in a raging stormAnd clad in wrath, yet could his threatening mightNot torture me with more appalling fearsThan do the Master’s words, as strong as fate.Long hath my life been, but its web displaysNothing but pictures shadowy and dimWhich haunt my dreaming soul and fondly striveTo mirror truths of nature and of mind.With this dream-fabric hath my thought essayedTo solve the riddle 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 soulWhen threads of thought along illusion’s pathSpun themselves out to cosmic distances.

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 riddle 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 beheldIn 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 soulTo that exalted spiritual wayWhich transforms human life, and makes to riseFrom hidden gulfs of soul the energyWhich feeds the springs of life within ourselves.That which awoke from out his inmost soulAbides in every man. And since from himI gained this revelation, I do countAs chief amongst the many sins of lifeTo let the spirit’s treasure grow corrupt.

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 seekAnd nevermore allow myself to doubt.In days gone by my vanity of thoughtCould have enticed me to the false beliefThat unto knowledge man aspires in vain;And only failure and despair belongTo those who would lay bare the springs of life.

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 claimThat human destiny demands of manThat he shall lose his individual selfAnd sink into the gulf of nothingness,Yet would I make the venture unafraid.Such thoughts would be a sacrilege today,Since I have learned I cannot win reposeUntil the spirit treasure in my soulHath been unveiléd to the light of day.

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 today,

Since I have learned I cannot win repose

Until the spirit treasure in my soul

Hath been unveiléd to the light of day.

The fruits of work of spirit-entitiesHave been implanted in the human soul,And whoso leaves the spirit seed to lieUnheeded and decay, he brings to noughtThe work divine committed unto man.Thus do I recognize life’s highest task;Yet when I try to take one single stepAcross the threshold that I dare not shun,I feel my strength desert me, which of yoreDid pride itself on elevated thought,And sought the goals of life in time and space.Once did I reckon it an easy thingTo set the brain in action and to graspThe nature of reality by thought.But now, when I would search the fount of lifeAnd 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 wordsOf Benedictus, though his earnest speech,Should now direct me to the spirit’s path.

The fruits of work of spirit-entities

Have been implanted in the human soul,

And whoso leaves the spirit seed to lie

Unheeded and decay, he brings to nought

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 awayWhat time thou dost withdraw into thyself;For only when thine own light is put outWill spirit-radiance show itself to thee.’

‘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 breathWhen 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 everythingWhich hitherto was my environmentIs crumbling into ruin, and therewithI too am crumbling into nothingness.An hundred times at least have I perusedThe words which follow, and each several timeDarkness enfolds me deeper than before.

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 distancesBy fantasies of dreamy thought beguiled.Do thou begin in farthest spirit-realmsAnd end in the recesses of thy soul.The plan divine then shalt thou recognizeWhen thou hast realized thy Self in thee.’

‘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 thineFor lofty spirit-flight;Its sure foundation restsUpon the human will.Its temper hath been triedBy sure and certain hope.It hath grown strong as steelBy sight of future times.Thou dost but courage lackTo pour into thy willThy confidence in life.Into the vast UnknownDare but to venture forth!

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 distancesAnd from the sun’s glad light,From utmost realms of starsAnd magic might of worlds,From heaven’s ethereal blueAnd spirit’s lofty power,Win mightiness of soul;And send its radiant beamsDeep down within thine heart;That knowledge glowing warmMay thus be born in thee.

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 theeThis evil sisterhood;They seek but to ensnareBy trickery and guile.The gifts so seeming fairWhich they have offered theeWill vanish into airWhen thou wouldst hold them fastWith all thy human strength.They lead thee on to worldsInhabited by gods,Where thou wilt be destroyedIf, once within their realm,Thou strivest to o’ercomeBy human strength alone.

The Other Philia:

They are deceiving thee

This evil sisterhood;

They seek but to ensnare

By trickery and guile.

The 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, once within their realm,

Thou strivest to o’ercome

By human strength alone.

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.

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 myselfAnd yet that too seems quite impossible—For ne’er could I imagine such discourseAs here I listened to.…

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.…

As here I listened to....Am I still heI was before?

As here I listened to....Am I still he

I was before?

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

I was before?Oh! I am—I am not.

The Spirit-Voice of Conscience:Thy thoughts do now descendTo depths of human lifeAnd what as soul doth compass thee aroundAnd what as spirit is enchained in thee,Is lost in cosmic depth,From whose fulness quaffingMankind doth live in thought;From whose fulness livingMankind illusion weaves.

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,

Is lost 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?

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.

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 thouShouldst find me in worse case than now I am.That I am not this moment on the groundProstrate before thy feet, after such painAs even now hath racked my soul, I oweTo thy kind glance alone which sought mine own,So soon as thou didst with thy gentle touchArouse me from the horrors of my dream.

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 nowFighting a battle for thy very life.Since I have known full well this long time pastThat thus it was appointed us to meet.Prepare to change the sense of many wordsIf thou wouldst understand my speech arightAnd do not marvel that thy present painBears in my language quite another name—I call thy state good fortune.

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:I call thy state good fortune.Then indeedThou dost but heap the measure of the woeWhich casts me into gloom’s abysmal depths.Just now I felt as if my real selfHad flown afar to cosmic distances,And unfamiliar beings through its sheathsWere speaking here. But this I took to beHallucination, 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 notMy fevered dreaming was good fortune; elseI shall be lost indeed.

Capesius:

I call thy state good fortune.Then indeed

Thou dost but heap the measure of the woe

Which casts me into gloom’s abysmal depths.

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:I shall be lost indeed.A man can loseNought else but that which keeps him separateFrom cosmic being. When he seems to loseThat which in dreamy fantasies of thoughtHe misapplied to labours purposeless,Then let him seek for what has gone from him.For he will surely find it, and withalThe proper use to which it should be putIn human life. Mere words of comfort nowWere nothing more than clever play on words.

Benedictus:

I shall be lost indeed.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—lore that may by simple human witBe comprehended thou dost not impart.Bitter experience has shown me this.Like deeds which lead one on to lofty heightsAnd also cast one to abysmal depths,Thy counsels pour a stream of fiery lifeAnd also deathly chill into men’s souls.They work at once e’en as the nod of fateAnd also as a storm of living love.Much had I sought and thought in earlier daysBefore I met thee; yet the spirit’s powers,Creative and destructive, I have learnedOnly since I have followed in thy steps.The turmoil and confusion of my soul,Caused by thy words, was evident when thouDidst come within my chamber. Oft I feltMuch pain whilst reading in thy book of life,Until today my cup of woe was full.And so my agony of soul o’erflowed,Spilled by thy fateful words. Their meaning sweptO’er all my soul unrecognized, and yetLike some elixir they revived my heart.In such wise wrought they in the magic worldsThat all my clarity of sense was lost.Then ghostly phantoms made a mock of me,And words of import dark I seemed to hearIssue from my distraught tormented soul.I know that all the secrets thou dost guardFor human souls may not be written down,But that the answer to men’s doubts may beRevealed to each according to his need.So grant me that of which I stand in need;For verily I must indeed be toldWhat robbed me of my senses and my witsAnd compassed me with magic’s airy spells.

Capesius:

Nay—lore that may by simple human wit

Be 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 depths,

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 a storm of living 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 today 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 wordsThan that of the ideas which they convey;They guide the natural forces of the soulTo spirit-verities; their inward senseCannot be understood until the dayOn which they waken vision in the soulThat 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 whichThe 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 theeFrom being swept away to worlds that seemTo thee fantastic. Thou hast seen a realmWhich must remain illusion just as longAs thou dost lose thyself on entering it.But wisdom’s outer portal will be foundUnsealed to thine advancing soul so soonAs thou dost near it with self-consciousness.

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?

Capesius:

And how can I maintain self-consciousness?

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

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 hath been ordained for thee

By lords of fate and by the spirit-powers.

(Exit.)

Capesius:Althoughtheir meaning is not clear to meI feel his words at work within myself.He hath appointed me a goal; and IAm ready to obey. He doth not askFor stress of thought; it seems that he desiresI should press forward with exploring feetTo find the spirit-verities myself.

Capesius:

Althoughtheir 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 divineThe nature of the spell that shook me so,I will not shrink from facing these eventsWhich his prophetic vision hath foretold.

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

Scene 2A 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 invokeWise counsel from my master in this hour.Gloomy forebodings rise within my heart.And I am powerless to withstand the thoughtsThat overwhelm me ever and again.They pierce me to my being’s inmost core;They seek to lay upon me a commandWhich to obey doth seem like sacrilege.Deceitful powers must be obsessing me;Oh, I implore thee—lend me aid … that IMay exorcise them.Benedictus:May exorcise them.Never shalt thou lackWhat thou dost need of me at any time.Maria:I know how closely to my soul are knitJohannes’ life and aims. A stony roadOf fate brought us together; and God’s willHath hallowed in high spirit-realms our bond.All this stands out before me e’en as clearAs only truth itself can be. And yet—Horror o’erpowers me that these lips of mineMust utterance give to sacrilegious words—And yet—deep in my soul I hear a voiceWhich tells me plainly and repeatedlyDespite my utmost will to fight it down:‘Thou must give up Johannes, let him go.No longer mayst thou keep him at thy sideIf thou wouldst not work evil to his soul.Alone he must proceed along the roadOn which he travels to his longed for goal.’I know that if thou dost but speak the wordThis lying dream will cease to haunt my soul.Benedictus:Maria, noble grief leads thee astrayTo see the truth yet call it counterfeit.Maria:What I have seen—is truth.… It cannot be!Between my master’s utterance and mine earDelusion steals. O speak to me again.Benedictus:What I have spoken, thou hast heard aright:Thy love is noble, and Johannes standsClose-knit to thee. But love must not forgetThat she is wisdom’s sister. Long indeedFor his salvation hath Johannes beenWith thee united. Now his soul demands,For its own progress, freedom to pursueIts aims unhindered. Fate doth not decreeThat ye shall be no longer outward friends;But this it doth demand with strict decreeJohannes’ freedom in the spirit-realm.Maria:Still do I hear delusion: so let meAlone continue speaking, for I knowThat thou must understand me without fail.For sure it is no lying shape will dareTo change the words unto thine ear addressed.My host of doubts were easily dispersedIf earth-life’s tortuous course alone it wereThat knits Johannes’ soul unto mine own.But to our bond was lofty sanction givenWhich knits soul unto soul eternally.And spirit-powers did speak with blessings meetThe word that bans all doubt for evermore:‘He hath won truth within th’ eternal realmsBecause in worlds of sense his inmost selfAlready was united with thine own.’What can this revelation mean to meIf now its very opposite is true?Benedictus:Thou hast to learn that even one to whomThere hath been much revealed, may yet be foundLacking perfection still in divers ways.Tangled the paths that lead to higher truth: …And only those may hope to reach the goalWho walk in patience through their labyrinths.Thou didst but see one part of what is realIn that great realm of everlasting light,When with thine inner vision thou didst gazeUpon a picture of the spirit-land.Not yet hast thou seen full reality.Johannes’ soul is knit unto thine ownBy earthly ties of such complexityThat it may be allotted unto eachTo find his way into the spirit-realmThrough forces borrowed from the other one.But nothing hitherto hath clearly shownThat thou hast conquered each and every test.To see a picture hath been granted theeOf what the future holds for thee in storeWhen thou canst pass unscathed the full ordeal.That thou hast seen the ultimate rewardOf unremitting effort is no signThat thou hast reached the end of all thy strife.Thou hast beheld a picture, which thy willAlone can turn unto reality.Maria:Although thy words just spoken fall on meLike 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 lightWhen it doth prove itself through inward force.Already something is becoming clearWhich up till now lay hidden in my heart.But when in highest bliss delusion’s snareDoth wear the mask of truth to human minds,Darkness of soul is difficult to ban.I need still more than that which thou hast givenTo plumb the depth of meaning in thy words.Thou once didst lead myself to those soul-depthsWherein a light was then vouchsafed to meBy which I could behold the lives I spentIn previous incarnations long ago.Thus was it granted me to learn the wayIn which my soul was linked unto my friend’s.My act of bringing, in those days of old,Johannes’ soul unto the spirit-fountI felt and recognized to be the seedWhich grew and bore such cherished friendship’s fruit,As was found ripe for all eternity.Benedictus:Thou wast accounted worthy to retraceThy path on earth in days long since gone by.But thou must not forget to look and seeIf thou canst be assured with certaintyThat of thine actions none remain concealedWhen backward thou didst 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 backOver a period of bygone timesDeluded me to vain forgetfulnessOf manifold shortcomings. Not till nowDid I foresee that I must turn my gazeInto the darkness ere I comprehendThe road that leads back from this present lifeTo olden days when my friend’s soul sought mine.To thee, my master, will I make my vowHenceforth to bridle my soul’s arrogance …!Now for the first time do I realizeHow pride of knowledge leads the soul astray;So that, instead of its imbibing strengthFrom freely offered stores of spirit-wealth,It misapplies the gift in wanton useAnd 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 farI am today e’en from the nearest goal.No more will I be overswift to readA meaning into words from spirit-lands.I will esteem them power wherewith my soulMay shape its course—, not as some message sentTo free me from the need of finding outThe goal of action in my daily life.Had I paid earlier heed unto this truthAnd gone my way in due humility;I had not failed to see that only thenWhen he decides to tread a path not tracedBy me beforehand, can my friend unfoldTo fullest bloom his richly-gifted soul.And now that this is clear I shall not failIn finding strength sufficient to fulfilWhat love and duty may require of me.Yet do I feel assured this very hourMore clearly than I ever was beforeThat some grave testing of my soul draws nigh.For mostly, when men tear from out their heartsThat 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 uprootThe workings of my soul’s life, which I sawAccomplishing themselves in my friend’s acts;And still unchanging must my love abide.Benedictus:If thou wouldst steer thy course direct, thou mustBecome aware of what thou most didst prizeIn this thy love. For once thou knowst the forceThat 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 aidOf which my soul so sorely stands in need.I must investigate mine inmost selfWith earnest questioning: and so I ask,What potent cause impels me in my love?I see my own soul’s life and strength at workIn my friend’s nature and activities.So that which I desire to satisfyIs nothing but the hunger of myself,Which I, deluded, call unselfishness.Thus it hath been concealed from me till nowThat in my friend I mirror but myself.It was the dragon Selfishness who veiledThe truth from me in wrappings of deceit.And selfishness can take an hundred forms:—I see it clearly now. And when one thinksThe enemy subdued, behold him riseOut of defeat and stronger than before.Moreover ’tis a foe with added skillTo hide the truth with cloak of counterfeit.(Maria sinks into deep thought.)(The three Spirit-Figures of the soul-powers appear.)Maria:Ye sisters, whom I find in Being’s depthsWhene’er my soul expands and guides herselfTo cosmic distances, release for meFrom out the ether’s heights the powers of sightAnd lead them hence to earthly paths, that IMay know myself as I exist in Time,And may be able to direct my courseFrom Life’s old ways unto new spheres of Will.Philia:From my heart’s depths will I myself imbueWith soul’s aspiring light; I will breathe deepFrom spirit-forces living powers of Will;That thou, beloved sister, mayest seekAnd find the light in bygone spheres of life.Astrid:With selfhood, conscious of itself, will IWeave in the self-surrendering Will of love;I will set free from fetters of desireThe budding powers of Will, and will transformThy crippled wish to spirit-certainty;That thou, beloved sister, mayest learnTo find thyself in distant paths of life.Luna:I will call self-denying powers of heart;And will make firm enduring soul-repose;Then shall they wed, and raise up spirit-lightIn all its power from out the depths of soul.Then shall they interpenetrate and forceEarth’s bounds to heed the listening spirit-ear,Compel earth’s distances to answer.That thou, beloved sister, mayest findLife’s varied traces in Time’s vast expanse.Maria(after a pause):If I can only tear myself awayFrom my bewildered consciousness of selfAnd give myself to you: that thus ye mayReflect my very soul from cosmic space;Then from this sphere of life I gain release,And find myself in other states of being.(Long pause, then the following:)In you, my sisters, I see spirit-formsIn whom dwell cosmic souls. Ye have the powerTo bring seed-forces from eternal realmsTo fruitage in humanity itself.Through my soul’s gates oft have I found the wayInto your kingdom, and have there beheldThe primal shaping of this earthly globeWith inner vision. Now your help I craveSince I am bidden to retrace the wayThat stretches back far from my present lifeTo long past ages of humanity.Release my soul from consciousness of selfIn time-enclosed existence, and revealThe duties laid on me by former lives.A Spirit-voice,—the spiritual conscience:Her thoughts are seeking nowFor clues in Time’s vast space.What as debt she still doth owe,What as duty is imposed,Arise from out her inmost depths of soul,From whose deepness dreamingMankind doth guide his life,In whose deepness strayingMankind himself doth lose.Curtain falls; everybody still standing on the stage

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 invokeWise counsel from my master in this hour.Gloomy forebodings rise within my heart.And I am powerless to withstand the thoughtsThat overwhelm me ever and again.They pierce me to my being’s inmost core;They seek to lay upon me a commandWhich to obey doth seem like sacrilege.Deceitful powers must be obsessing me;Oh, I implore thee—lend me aid … that IMay exorcise them.

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:May exorcise them.Never shalt thou lackWhat thou dost need of me at any time.

Benedictus:

May exorcise them.Never shalt thou lack

What thou dost need of me at any time.

Maria:I know how closely to my soul are knitJohannes’ life and aims. A stony roadOf fate brought us together; and God’s willHath hallowed in high spirit-realms our bond.All this stands out before me e’en as clearAs only truth itself can be. And yet—Horror o’erpowers me that these lips of mineMust utterance give to sacrilegious words—And yet—deep in my soul I hear a voiceWhich tells me plainly and repeatedlyDespite my utmost will to fight it down:‘Thou must give up Johannes, let him go.No longer mayst thou keep him at thy sideIf thou wouldst not work evil to his soul.Alone he must proceed along the roadOn which he travels to his longed for goal.’I know that if thou dost but speak the wordThis lying dream will cease to haunt my soul.

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 astrayTo see the truth yet call it counterfeit.

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 earDelusion steals. O speak to me again.

Maria:

What I have seen—is truth.… It cannot be!

Between my master’s utterance and mine ear

Delusion steals. O speak to me again.

Benedictus:What I have spoken, thou hast heard aright:Thy love is noble, and Johannes standsClose-knit to thee. But love must not forgetThat she is wisdom’s sister. Long indeedFor his salvation hath Johannes beenWith thee united. Now his soul demands,For its own progress, freedom to pursueIts aims unhindered. Fate doth not decreeThat ye shall be no longer outward friends;But this it doth demand with strict decreeJohannes’ freedom in the spirit-realm.

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 meAlone continue speaking, for I knowThat thou must understand me without fail.For sure it is no lying shape will dareTo change the words unto thine ear addressed.My host of doubts were easily dispersedIf earth-life’s tortuous course alone it wereThat knits Johannes’ soul unto mine own.But to our bond was lofty sanction givenWhich knits soul unto soul eternally.And spirit-powers did speak with blessings meetThe word that bans all doubt for evermore:‘He hath won truth within th’ eternal realmsBecause in worlds of sense his inmost selfAlready was united with thine own.’What can this revelation mean to meIf now its very opposite is true?

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 doubt for evermore:

‘He hath won truth within th’ 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 whomThere hath been much revealed, may yet be foundLacking perfection still in divers ways.Tangled the paths that lead to higher truth: …And only those may hope to reach the goalWho walk in patience through their labyrinths.Thou didst but see one part of what is realIn that great realm of everlasting light,When with thine inner vision thou didst gazeUpon a picture of the spirit-land.Not yet hast thou seen full reality.Johannes’ soul is knit unto thine ownBy earthly ties of such complexityThat it may be allotted unto eachTo find his way into the spirit-realmThrough forces borrowed from the other one.But nothing hitherto hath clearly shownThat thou hast conquered each and every test.To see a picture hath been granted theeOf what the future holds for thee in storeWhen thou canst pass unscathed the full ordeal.That thou hast seen the ultimate rewardOf unremitting effort is no signThat thou hast reached the end of all thy strife.Thou hast beheld a picture, which thy willAlone can turn unto reality.

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 truth: …

And only those may hope to reach the goal

Who walk in patience through their labyrinths.

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 thou hast conquered each and every test.

To see a picture hath been granted thee

Of what the future holds for thee in store

When thou canst pass unscathed the full ordeal.

That thou hast seen the ultimate reward

Of unremitting effort is no sign

That thou hast reached the end of all thy strife.

Thou hast beheld a picture, which thy will

Alone can turn unto reality.

Maria:Although thy words just spoken fall on meLike 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 lightWhen it doth prove itself through inward force.Already something is becoming clearWhich up till now lay hidden in my heart.But when in highest bliss delusion’s snareDoth wear the mask of truth to human minds,Darkness of soul is difficult to ban.I need still more than that which thou hast givenTo plumb the depth of meaning in thy words.Thou once didst lead myself to those soul-depthsWherein a light was then vouchsafed to meBy which I could behold the lives I spentIn previous incarnations long ago.Thus was it granted me to learn the wayIn which my soul was linked unto my friend’s.My act of bringing, in those days of old,Johannes’ soul unto the spirit-fountI felt and recognized to be the seedWhich grew and bore such cherished friendship’s fruit,As was found ripe for all eternity.

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 wast accounted worthy to retraceThy path on earth in days long since gone by.But thou must not forget to look and seeIf thou canst be assured with certaintyThat of thine actions none remain concealedWhen backward thou didst turn thy spirit’s eye.

Benedictus:

Thou wast 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 thine actions none remain concealed

When backward thou didst 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 backOver a period of bygone timesDeluded me to vain forgetfulnessOf manifold shortcomings. Not till nowDid I foresee that I must turn my gazeInto the darkness ere I comprehendThe road that leads back from this present lifeTo olden days when my friend’s soul sought mine.To thee, my master, will I make my vowHenceforth to bridle my soul’s arrogance …!Now for the first time do I realizeHow pride of knowledge leads the soul astray;So that, instead of its imbibing strengthFrom freely offered stores of spirit-wealth,It misapplies the gift in wanton useAnd 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 farI am today e’en from the nearest goal.No more will I be overswift to readA meaning into words from spirit-lands.I will esteem them power wherewith my soulMay shape its course—, not as some message sentTo free me from the need of finding outThe goal of action in my daily life.Had I paid earlier heed unto this truthAnd gone my way in due humility;I had not failed to see that only thenWhen he decides to tread a path not tracedBy me beforehand, can my friend unfoldTo fullest bloom his richly-gifted soul.And now that this is clear I shall not failIn finding strength sufficient to fulfilWhat love and duty may require of me.Yet do I feel assured this very hourMore clearly than I ever was beforeThat some grave testing of my soul draws nigh.For mostly, when men tear from out their heartsThat 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 uprootThe workings of my soul’s life, which I sawAccomplishing themselves in my friend’s acts;And still unchanging must my love abide.

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 today 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 mustBecome aware of what thou most didst prizeIn this thy love. For once thou knowst the forceThat leads thee all unknown within thy soul,Thou wilt find power to do what duty bids.

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 aidOf which my soul so sorely stands in need.I must investigate mine inmost selfWith earnest questioning: and so I ask,What potent cause impels me in my love?I see my own soul’s life and strength at workIn my friend’s nature and activities.So that which I desire to satisfyIs nothing but the hunger of myself,Which I, deluded, call unselfishness.Thus it hath been concealed from me till nowThat in my friend I mirror but myself.It was the dragon Selfishness who veiledThe truth from me in wrappings of deceit.And selfishness can take an hundred forms:—I see it clearly now. And when one thinksThe enemy subdued, behold him riseOut of defeat and stronger than before.Moreover ’tis a foe with added skillTo hide the truth with cloak of counterfeit.

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 questioning: 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:—

I 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-powers appear.)

Maria:Ye sisters, whom I find in Being’s depthsWhene’er my soul expands and guides herselfTo cosmic distances, release for meFrom out the ether’s heights the powers of sightAnd lead them hence to earthly paths, that IMay know myself as I exist in Time,And may be able to direct my courseFrom Life’s old ways unto new spheres of Will.

Maria:

Ye sisters, whom I find in Being’s depths

Whene’er my soul expands and guides herself

To cosmic distances, release for me

From out the ether’s heights the powers of sight

And lead them hence to earthly paths, that I

May know myself as I exist in Time,

And may be able to direct my course

From Life’s old ways unto new spheres of Will.

Philia:From my heart’s depths will I myself imbueWith soul’s aspiring light; I will breathe deepFrom spirit-forces living powers of Will;That thou, beloved sister, mayest seekAnd find the light in bygone spheres of life.

Philia:

From my heart’s depths will I myself imbue

With soul’s aspiring light; I will breathe deep

From spirit-forces living powers of Will;

That thou, beloved sister, mayest seek

And find the light in bygone spheres of life.

Astrid:With selfhood, conscious of itself, will IWeave in the self-surrendering Will of love;I will set free from fetters of desireThe budding powers of Will, and will transformThy crippled wish to spirit-certainty;That thou, beloved sister, mayest learnTo find thyself in distant paths of life.

Astrid:

With selfhood, conscious of itself, will I

Weave in the self-surrendering Will of love;

I will set free from fetters of desire

The budding powers of Will, and will transform

Thy crippled wish to spirit-certainty;

That thou, beloved sister, mayest learn

To find thyself in distant paths of life.

Luna:I will call self-denying powers of heart;And will make firm enduring soul-repose;Then shall they wed, and raise up spirit-lightIn all its power from out the depths of soul.Then shall they interpenetrate and forceEarth’s bounds to heed the listening spirit-ear,Compel earth’s distances to answer.That thou, beloved sister, mayest findLife’s varied traces in Time’s vast expanse.

Luna:

I will call self-denying powers of heart;

And will make firm enduring soul-repose;

Then shall they wed, and raise up spirit-light

In all its power from out the depths of soul.

Then shall they interpenetrate and force

Earth’s bounds to heed the listening spirit-ear,

Compel earth’s distances to answer.

That thou, beloved sister, mayest find

Life’s varied traces in Time’s vast expanse.

Maria(after a pause):If I can only tear myself awayFrom my bewildered consciousness of selfAnd give myself to you: that thus ye mayReflect my very soul from cosmic space;Then from this sphere of life I gain release,And find myself in other states of being.

Maria(after a pause):

If I can only tear myself away

From my bewildered consciousness of self

And give myself to you: that thus ye may

Reflect my very soul from cosmic space;

Then from this sphere of life I gain release,

And find myself in other states of being.

(Long pause, then the following:)

In you, my sisters, I see spirit-formsIn whom dwell cosmic souls. Ye have the powerTo bring seed-forces from eternal realmsTo fruitage in humanity itself.Through my soul’s gates oft have I found the wayInto your kingdom, and have there beheldThe primal shaping of this earthly globeWith inner vision. Now your help I craveSince I am bidden to retrace the wayThat stretches back far from my present lifeTo long past ages of humanity.Release my soul from consciousness of selfIn time-enclosed existence, and revealThe duties laid on me by former lives.

In you, my sisters, I see spirit-forms

In whom dwell cosmic souls. Ye have the power

To bring seed-forces from eternal realms

To fruitage in humanity itself.

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 nowFor clues in Time’s vast space.What as debt she still doth owe,What as duty is imposed,Arise from out her inmost depths of soul,From whose deepness dreamingMankind doth guide his life,In whose deepness strayingMankind himself doth lose.

A Spirit-voice,—the spiritual conscience:

Her thoughts are seeking now

For clues in Time’s vast space.

What as debt she still doth 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

Scene 3A 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 gaveHints to assist the progress of my workFrom her rich store of wisdom manifold.Little as I can trust myself to judgeWhether my art indeed accomplishesThe task our spirit-current hath imposed,Yet is my confidence in her complete.And ever through my spirit ring her wordsWhich lent me strength and brought me happinessWhen I took courage and began this work.‘In such a way as this,’ she said, ‘thou canstAttempt this enterprise, and so revealThy 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 representOn canvas through thy skill the higher realms.’I feel the power that dwells within these wordsAnd diffidently yield to that beliefThat I am drawing nearer to the goalWhich Benedictus hath appointed me.Full oft I sat discouraged at my work;It seemed at one time so presumptuous,And at another so impossibleTo represent in colour and in formThe visions that are granted to my soul.How can the ceaseless web of spirit-life,Which is revealed to inner sight aloneAnd 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 blessednessUnto creative forces of the worlds,At once belief awakens in an artAs true and mystic as our spirit-quest.I learned to live with light, and recognizeIn colour’s power the action of that light,As faithful students of true mystic loreSee in realms reft of colour and of formThe spirit’s deeds and soul’s reality.Relying on this spirit-light, I wonThis power to feel in flowing sea of light,And live within the stream of glowing tints;And sense those spirit-forces which maintainTheir 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 moreOf 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 cravedThy coming, yet I marked not thine approach!Maria:I must rejoice to find my friend so wraptIn work as to forget his friend herself.Johannes:Nay, speak not thus, since thou dost know full wellThat I cannot create one single thoughtWhich hath not first been hallowed by thine aid.No work of mine owes not its life to thee.Through thy love’s fire have I been purified;Through thee my art hath learned to representThe 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 riseFrom thy soul’s spring and flow thence into mine,Ere I can feel the wings that lift me upTo 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 powerAnd make an artist’s work bear fruit and live.If I, as artist, am to carry backPictures of spirit to the world of sense,Then cosmic spirit must speak forth through me,My personality be but its tool.I must first burst the bonds of selfishnessEre I can know that I shall not mistakeFor spirit-worlds my own vain fantasies.Maria:And if thou hadst to seek through thine own sightAnd not through mine the true source of thy work,It might well be that, coming from one soulThy dream of beauty might be unified.Johannes:I should be spinning webs of idle thoughtIn 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 soulAnd find delight in wide-flung spirit-worlds:I can be lost to all the world of senseAnd follow colour-wonders with mine eyeAnd watch creative energies at work,If I am left with mine own soul alone.Whate’er may thus befall me I am notThereby impelled to my creative art.But if I follow thee to cosmic heights,And in warm rapture live again what thouAlready hast in spirit there beheld,Then in my spirit-sight I feel a fireWhich burns on in me also, and whose flamesKindle the powers that drive me to my work.If my desire were simply to relateThat which I can find out in higher worlds,Then with my soul I well might upward soarTo spheres where spirit unto spirit speaks.But as an artist I must find that fireWhich lights the picture and inflames the heart.And my soul cannot to my picture giveThe magic warmth that streams through human hearts,Till it can quench its thirst with spirit-truthsRevealed 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 speechHath often led me on to learn unseen.In hues ethereal of the spirit-worldI sought to densify what hid from sight;And felt how colours longed to see themselvesMirrored as spirit in the souls of men.So doth my friend’s soul speak as if ’twere mineOut 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 soulsNot kill their individuality.The moment is upon us, when we twainMust test our souls, and find the spirit-pathThat 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 thyselfPortrayed in other souls.The power of thine own selfMust root in cosmic soil,If from the spirit-heightsThou wouldst indeed transplantTheir beauty to earth’s depths.Be bold to be thyself,That thou, strong souled, mayst giveThyself to cosmic powers—a willing sacrifice.Astrid:In all thy ways on earthThou must not lose thyself;Mankind doth not attainTo sun-kissed distancesIf he would rob himself of personality.So then prepare thyself,Press on through earthly loveTo utmost depths of heartWhich ripen cosmic love.The Other Philia:O heed the sisters not;They lead thee far astrayTo cosmic distances,And rob thee of earth’s touch.They do not understandThat earthly love bears traceOf cosmic love itself.In cold their natures dwellAnd warmth flies from their powers.They fain would lure mankindFrom out his own soul depthsTo cold and lofty worlds.Curtain: Johannes, Philia, Astrid, Luna, and the Other Philia still standing

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 gaveHints to assist the progress of my workFrom her rich store of wisdom manifold.Little as I can trust myself to judgeWhether my art indeed accomplishesThe task our spirit-current hath imposed,Yet is my confidence in her complete.And ever through my spirit ring her wordsWhich lent me strength and brought me happinessWhen I took courage and began this work.‘In such a way as this,’ she said, ‘thou canstAttempt this enterprise, and so revealThy 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 representOn canvas through thy skill the higher realms.’I feel the power that dwells within these wordsAnd diffidently yield to that beliefThat I am drawing nearer to the goalWhich Benedictus hath appointed me.Full oft I sat discouraged at my work;It seemed at one time so presumptuous,And at another so impossibleTo represent in colour and in formThe visions that are granted to my soul.How can the ceaseless web of spirit-life,Which is revealed to inner sight aloneAnd 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 blessednessUnto creative forces of the worlds,At once belief awakens in an artAs true and mystic as our spirit-quest.I learned to live with light, and recognizeIn colour’s power the action of that light,As faithful students of true mystic loreSee in realms reft of colour and of formThe spirit’s deeds and soul’s reality.Relying on this spirit-light, I wonThis power to feel in flowing sea of light,And live within the stream of glowing tints;And sense those spirit-forces which maintainTheir might in non-material webs of light,And radiant colours filled with spirit-life.

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 moreOf 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.

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 cravedThy coming, yet I marked not thine approach!

Oh, thou art here.… Impatiently I craved

Thy coming, yet I marked not thine approach!

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

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 wellThat I cannot create one single thoughtWhich hath not first been hallowed by thine aid.No work of mine owes not its life to thee.Through thy love’s fire have I been purified;Through thee my art hath learned to representThe 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 riseFrom thy soul’s spring and flow thence into mine,Ere I can feel the wings that lift me upTo 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 powerAnd make an artist’s work bear fruit and live.If I, as artist, am to carry backPictures of spirit to the world of sense,Then cosmic spirit must speak forth through me,My personality be but its tool.I must first burst the bonds of selfishnessEre I can know that I shall not mistakeFor spirit-worlds my own vain fantasies.

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 I 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.

I must first 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 sightAnd not through mine the true source of thy work,It might well be that, coming from one soulThy dream of beauty might be unified.

Maria:

And if thou hadst to seek through thine own sight

And not through mine the true source of thy work,

It might well be that, coming from one soul

Thy dream of beauty might be unified.

Johannes:I should be spinning webs of idle thoughtIn 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.

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 soulAnd find delight in wide-flung spirit-worlds:I can be lost to all the world of senseAnd follow colour-wonders with mine eyeAnd watch creative energies at work,If I am left with mine own soul alone.Whate’er may thus befall me I am notThereby impelled to my creative art.But if I follow thee to cosmic heights,And in warm rapture live again what thouAlready hast in spirit there beheld,Then in my spirit-sight I feel a fireWhich burns on in me also, and whose flamesKindle the powers that drive me to my work.

I can withdraw to deep retreats of soul

And find delight in wide-flung spirit-worlds:

I can be lost to all the world 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,

Then in my spirit-sight I feel a fire

Which burns on in me also, and whose flames

Kindle the powers that drive me to my work.

If my desire were simply to relateThat which I can find out in higher worlds,Then with my soul I well might upward soarTo spheres where spirit unto spirit speaks.But as an artist I must find that fireWhich lights the picture and inflames the heart.And my soul cannot to my picture giveThe magic warmth that streams through human hearts,Till it can quench its thirst with spirit-truthsRevealed from out the depths of thine own heart.

If my desire were simply to relate

That which I can find out 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,

Till 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 speechHath often led me on to learn unseen.In hues ethereal of the spirit-worldI sought to densify what hid from sight;And felt how colours longed to see themselvesMirrored as spirit in the souls of men.So doth my friend’s soul speak as if ’twere mineOut of my pictures to the human 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 doth my friend’s soul speak as if ’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 soulsNot kill their individuality.The moment is upon us, when we twainMust test our souls, and find the spirit-pathThat each must follow for its separate good.

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.

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 thyselfPortrayed in other souls.The power of thine own selfMust root in cosmic soil,If from the spirit-heightsThou wouldst indeed transplantTheir beauty to earth’s depths.Be bold to be thyself,That thou, strong souled, mayst giveThyself to cosmic powers—a willing sacrifice.

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 earthThou must not lose thyself;Mankind doth not attainTo sun-kissed distancesIf he would rob himself of personality.So then prepare thyself,Press on through earthly loveTo utmost depths of heartWhich ripen cosmic love.

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 astrayTo cosmic distances,And rob thee of earth’s touch.They do not understandThat earthly love bears traceOf cosmic love itself.In cold their natures dwellAnd warmth flies from their powers.They fain would lure mankindFrom out his own soul depthsTo cold and lofty worlds.

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

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