Scene 4

Scene 4The same room as in Scene 1. Capesius and Strader.Capesius(to Strader who is entering):A hearty welcome to the friend whose tongueWith many a disputatious argumentStoutly withstood me! ’Tis long time sinceThou crossed this threshold. Yet in earlier daysThou wast my constant welcome visitor.Strader:Alas I have not had the time to spare;My life hath undergone a curious change.No longer do I plague my weary brainWith hopeless problems. Now I dedicateThe knowledge I have won to honest work,Such as may serve some useful end in life.Capesius:Thou meanest that thou hast given up thy quest?Strader:Say rather, that it hath abandoned me.Capesius:And what may be thy present labours’ goal?Strader:There are no goals in life ordained for manWhich he may see and clearly understand.It is a mighty engine by whose wheelsWe are caught up and wearied, and cast outInto the darkness when our strength is spent.Capesius:I knew thee in the days when eagerlyAnd undismayed thou didst set out to solveThe riddle of existence. I have learnedHow thou didst see thy treasured knowledge sinkInto the bottomless abyss, and howThy soul, profoundly shaken, had to drainThe bitter cup of disappointed dreams.But never for one moment did I thinkThat thou couldst drive the impulse from thy heartWhich had become so fully master there.Strader:Thou hast but to recall a certain dayOn which a seeress by her truthful speechMade clear to me the error of my ways.I had no choice but to acknowledge thenThat thought, however hard it toil and strive,Can never reach the fountain-head of life.For thought cannot do otherwise than errIf it be so that highest wisdom’s lightCan be revealed to that dark power of soulOf which that woman showed herself possessed.The rules of science cannot ever leadTo such a revelation; that is plain.Had this been all, and had I only metThis one defeat whilst following my quest,I do believe I could have brought myselfTo start afresh by striving to uniteMy methods with those other different ones.But when it further was made evidentThat some peculiar spirit-faculty,A mere hallucination as I deemed,Could transform trance into creative power,Hope disappeared, and left me in despair.Dost thou recall the painter, that young manWe both encountered whilst he was engrossedFollowing the dubious course of spirit-ways?After such buffetings from fate I livedFor many weeks benumbed, to madness nigh.And when by nature’s aid I was at lastRestored to sense, I made a firm resolveTo meddle with such seeking never more.Long, long it was before I had regainedMy body’s health; and ’twas a joyless time.I made myself proficient in those thingsThat lead to business and to normal life.So now I am a factory manager,Where screws are made. This is the work I thankFor many hours in which I can forgetMy bitter sufferings in a futile quest.Capesius:I must confess I scarce can recognizeMy friend of former days; so differentIs now the guise in which he shows himself.Beside those hours of which thou spak’st just nowWere there not others full of storm and stress,In which the ancient conflicts were renewedThat urged thee forth from this benumbing life?Strader:I am not spared those hours in mine own soulWhen impotence ’gainst impotence doth strive.And fate hath not so willed it in my caseThat rosy beams of hope should force their wayInto my heart, and leave assurance thereThat this my present life is not an utter loss.Renunciation is henceforth my goal.Yet may the force which such a task requiresEndow me later on with facultyTo follow up my quest in other ways.(Aside.)If this terrestrial life repeats itself.Capesius:Thou spak’st,—if I indeed have heard aright,—Of repetition of thy life on earth.Then hast thou really won this fateful truth,Found it on spirit-journeys, which todayThou none the less condemnst as dubious?Strader:This is the way once travelled by thyselfTo that conviction which hath given me strengthTo make a new beginning of my life.I sought upon my sick-bed once for allIn comprehensive survey to embraceThe field of knowledge traversed by myself.And this I did, ere seeking other aims.I must have asked myself an hundred timesWhat we can learn from nature, and inferFrom what we know at present of her laws.I could not find a loophole for escape.The repetition of our earthly lifeCannot and must not be denied by thoughtThat doth not wish to tear itself awayFrom all research hath found for ages past.Capesius:Could I have had one such experienceThen should I have been spared much bitter pain.I sought through many a weary wakeful nightFor liberating thoughts to set me free.Strader:And yet it was this spirit lightning-flashWhich robbed me of my last remaining powers.The strongest impulse of my soul hath beenEver to seek for evidence in lifeOf what my thought hath forced on me as truth.So it befell, as if by chance, that IE’en in those days of misery should prove,And by my own life testify the truth,That cruel truth with all that it involves:Which is, that all our sorrows and our joysAre but results of what we really are.Aye! this is often very hard to bear.Capesius:Incredible seems such experience.What can there be to overshadow truth,For which we search unwearying, and whichUnto our spirit firm assurance gives.Strader:For thee it may be so, but not for me.Thou art acquainted with my curious life.By chance it seemed my parents’ plans were crossed.Their purpose was to make a monk of me;And naught so hurt them, they have often said,In all their life as my apostasy.I bore all this, yea and much more besides;Just as one bears the other things in lifeSo long as birth and death appear the boundsAppointed for our earthly pilgrimage.So too my later life and all the hopesThat came to naught, to me a picture seemedThat only by itself could be explained.Would that the day had never dawned, on whichI altered those convictions that I held,For—bear in mind—I have not yet confessedThe total burden laid on me by fate.No child was I of those who would have madeA monk of me, but an adopted sonChosen by them when but a few days old.My own real parents I have never known,But was a stranger in my very home.Nor less estranged have I remained from allThat happened round me in my later life.And now my thought compels me to look backUnto those days of long ago, and seeHow from myself I stole the world away.For thought is linked with thought to make a chain:A man to whom it hath been thus ordainedTo be a stranger in the world, beforeHis consciousness had ever dawned in him,This man hath willed this fate upon himselfEre he could will as consequence of thought.And since I stay that which I was at firstI know without the shadow of a doubtThat all unknowing I am in the powerOf forces that control my destinyAnd that will not reveal themselves to me.Do I need more to give me cruel proofHow many veils enshroud mine inmost self?Without false thirst for knowledge, judge this now;Hath my new truth revealed the light to me?It hath, at any rate, brought certaintyThat I in mine uncertainty must stay.Thus it portrays to me my destinyAnd like in its own way, is my reply,Half anguish and half bitter mockery.A fearful sense of horror on me grew.Tortured by scorn I must confront my life;And scoffing at the mockery of fateI yielded to the darkness. Yet there stayedOne single thought which I could realize:Do with me what thou wilt, thou life-machine;I am not curious how thy cog-wheels work!Capesius:The man whom I have recognized in theeIn such condition cannot long remain,Bereft of Knowledge, even if he would.Already I can see the days approachWhen we shall both be other than we are.The curtain falls, leaving them standing opposite one anotherScene 5A mountain glade, in which is situated Felix Balde’s solitary cottage. Evening. Dame Felicia Balde, Capesius, then Felix Balde; later on Johannes and his Double; afterwards Lucifer and Ahriman. Dame Felicia is seated on a bench in front of her cottage.Capesius(arriving, approaches her):I know an old friend will not ask in vainFor leave to stay and rest awhile with thee;Since now, e’en more than any former time,He needs what in thine house so oft he found.Felicia:When thou wast still far off thy wearied stepTold me the tale which now thine eyes repeat;That sorrow dwelleth in thy soul today.Capesius(who has seated himself):Even aforetime ’twas not granted meTo bring much merriment into thy home;But special patience must I crave todayWhen, heavy-hearted and of peace bereft,I force my way unto the home of peace.Felicia:We were right glad to see thee in the daysWhen scarce another man came near this house.And thou art still our friend, despite eventsThat came between us, e’en though many nowAre glad to seek us in this lonely glade.Capesius:The tale is true then which hath reached mine ears,That thy dear Felix, so reserved of yore,Is nowadays a man much visited?Felicia:’Tis so; good Felix used to shut us offFrom everyone—; but now the people throngTo question him, and he must answer them.His duty bids him lead this novel life.In former days he cared not to impart,Save to his inner self, the secret loreConcerning spirit-deeds and nature’s powersBy rock and forest unto him revealed.Nor did men seem to value it before.How great a change hath now come o’er the times!For many men now lend a willing earTo what they counted folly in the past,Greedy for wisdom, Felix can reveal.And when my dear good husband has to talk(Felix Balde comes out of the house.)Hour upon hour on end, as oft he doth,I long for those old days of which I spake.How oft would Felix earnestly declareThat in the quiet heart enshrined, the soulMust learn to treasure up the spirit-giftsFrom worlds divine in mercy sent to her.He held it treachery to that high speechOf spirit, to reveal it to an earThat was but open to the world of sense.Felix:Felicia cannot reconcile herselfTo this much altered fashion of our life.As she regrets the loneliness of old,So she deplores the many days that passIn which we have but few hours for ourselves.Capesius:What made thee welcome strangers to a houseThat shut them out so sternly heretofore?Felix:The spirit-voice which speaks within my heartBade me of yore be silent; I obeyed.Now that it bids me speak I show myselfEqually faithful unto its command.Our human nature undergoes a changeAs earth’s existence gradually evolves.Now are we very near an epoch’s close.And spirit-knowledge therefore must in partBe now revealéd unto every manWho chooseth to receive it to himself.I know how little what I have to tellIs in agreement with man’s current thought;The spirit-life, they say, must be made known,In strict and logical thought sequences,And men deny all logic to my words.True science on a firm foundation based,Cannot, they say, regard me otherwise,Than as a visionary soul who seeksA solitary road to wisdom’s seat,And knows no more of science than of art.Yet not a few declare it worth their whileThe tangle of my language to exploreBecause therein from time to time is foundSomething of worth, to reason not opposed.I am a man into whose heart must flow,Untouched by art, each vision he may see.Nought know I of a knowledge lacking words.When I retreat within mine inmost heartAnd also when I list to nature’s voiceThen such a knowledge wakes to life in meAs hath no need to seek for any words;Speech is to it as intimately linkedAs is his body’s sheath to man on earth;And knowledge such as this, which in this wiseReveals itself to us from spirit-worlds,Can be of service even unto thoseWho understand it not. And so it isThat every man is free to come to meWho will attend to what I have to say.Many are led by curiosityAnd other trivial reasons to my door.I know that this is so, but also knowThat though the souls of just such men as theseAre not this moment living for the light,Yet in them have been planted seeds of goodWhich will not fail to ripen in due time.Capesius:Let me, I pray thee, freely speak my mind.I have admired thee now these many years;Yet up till now I have not grasped the senseWhich underlies thy strange mysterious words.Felix:It surely will unfold itself to thee;For with a lofty spirit dost thou striveAnd noble heart, and so the time must comeWhen thou thyself shalt hear the voice of truth.Thou dost not mark how full of rich contentMan, as the image of the cosmos, is.His head doth mirror heaven’s very self,The spirits of the spheres work through his limbs,And in his breast earth-beings hold their sway.To all of these opposed, in all their mightAppear the demons, natives of the Moon,Whose lot it is to cross those beings’ aims.The human being who before us stands,The soul through which we learn to feel desire,The spirit who illuminates our path:All these, full many gods have worked to mouldThroughout the ages of eternity;And this their purpose was: to join in one,Forces proceeding out of all the worldsWhich should, in combination, make mankind.Capesius:Thy words come near to causing me alarm,For they regard mankind as nothing elseThan product of divine activities.Felix:And so a man who sets himself to learnTrue spirit science must be meek indeed.And he who, arrogant and vain, desiresTo gain nought else than knowledge of himself;For him the gates of wisdom open not.Capesius:Once more, no doubt, will Dame FeliciaCome to mine aid, as she so oft hath done,And make a picture for my seeking soul,Which, being warmed thereat, may rightly graspThe real true meaning in thy words contained.Felicia:Dear Felix oft hath told me in the pastThe very words which now he spake to thee.They freed a vision in mine heart, which IDid promise, then and there, I must relateSome day to thee.Capesius:Some day to thee.Oh do so, dearest dame;I sorely crave refreshment, such as thou,Out of thy picture-storehouse canst provide.Felicia:So be it then. There once did live a boy,The only child of needy forest-folk,Who grew up in the woodland solitudes;Few souls he knew beside his parents twain.His build was slender, and his skinwell-nighTransparent; marvels of the spirit hidDeep in his eye; long could one gaze therein.And though few human beings ever cameInto the circle of his daily life,The lad was well befriended none the less.When golden sunshine bathed the neighbouring hills,With thoughtful eyes he drew the spirit-goldInto his soul, until his heart becameKin to the morning glory of the sun.But when the morning sunshine could not breakThrough dense dark banks of cloud, and heavinessLay on the hills around, his eye grew sad,And sorrow took possession of his heart.Thus his attention only centred onThe spirit-fabric of his narrow world,A world that seemed as much a part of himAs did his limbs and body. Woodlands allAnd trees and flowers he felt to be his friends;From crown and calyx and from tops of trees,The spirit beings spake full oft to him,And all their whisperings were lucid speech.Marvels and wonders of the hidden worldsDisclosed themselves unto the boy when heHeld converse in his soul with many thingsBy men deemed lifeless. Evening often fell,And still the boy would be away from home,And cause his loving parents much distress.At such times he was at a place near byIn which a spring rose gushing from the rocks,To fall in misty spray upon the stones.When silver moonbeams would reflect themselves,A miracle of colour and of light,Full in the rush of hasting waterdrops,The boy could spend beside the rock-born springHour after hour, till spirit-shapes appearedBefore the vision of the youthful seerWhere moonbeams shivered on the falling drops.They grew to be three forms in woman’s shape,Who spoke to him about those things in whichHis yearning soul made known its interest.And when upon a gentle summer nightThe lad was once more sitting by the spring,A myriad particles one woman tookFrom out the coloured web of waterdropsAnd to the second woman handed them.She fashioned from the watery particlesA gleaming chalice with a silver sheenAnd handed it in turn unto the third.She filled the vessel with the silver raysOf moonlight and then gave it to the boy,Who had beheld all this with inner sight.During the night which followed this eventHe dreamed a dream in which he saw himselfRobbed of this chalice by some dragon wild.After this night had passed, the boy beheldBut three times more the marvel of the stream.Then the three women stayed away from himAlthough he sat and mused beside the springThat gushed beneath the moonlight from the rock.And when three times three hundred sixty weeksHad passed, the boy had long become a man,And left home, parents, and his woodland nookTo live in some strange city. There one eveHe sat and thought, tired with the day’s hard toil,Musing on what life held in store for him,When suddenly he felt himself caught upAnd set again beside that rock-bound spring;The women three, he there beheld once more,And this time clearly he could hear them speak.These were the words the first one spake to him:‘Think of me always whensoe’er thou artO’ercome by loneliness, for I am sheWho lures the inner vision of mankindTo starry realms and heavenly distances.And whosoever wills to feel my swayTo him I give a draught of life and hopeOut of the magic goblet which I hold.’The second also spake these words to him:‘Forget me not at times when thou art nighTo losing courage on life’s battlefield.I lead men’s yearning hearts to depths of soulAnd also up to lofty spirit-heights.And whosoever seeks his powers from me,For him I forge unwavering faith in lifeShaped by the magic hammer which I wield.’The third one gave her message in these words:‘Lift up thy spirit’s eye to gaze on meWhen by life’s riddles thou art overwhelmed.’Tis I who spin the threads of thought that leadThrough labyrinths of life and depths of soul.And whosoever puts his trust in meFor him I weave the rays of living loveUpon this magic loom at which I sit.’Thus it befell the man, and in the nightThat followed on his vision he did dream,How that a dragon wild in circles creptRound him, but was not able to draw near.He was protected from that dragon’s clawsBy those same beings whom he saw of oldSeated beside the spring among the rocks,Who had gone with him, when he left his home,To guard him in his strange environment.Capesius:Accept my thanks, dear dame, before I go,For this rich treasure thou hast given me.(Stands up and departs;Felix and Dame Felicia go into the house.)Capesius(alone and at some distance):I feel the health that such a picture bringsInto my soul, and how to all my thoughtsIt can restore the forces they had lost.Simple the tale unfolded by the dame,And yet it rouseth powers of thought in meThat carry me away to worlds unknown.…Therefore will I in this fair solitudeMyself to dreams abandon, which so oftHave sought to usher thoughts into my soul,Thoughts which have proved themselves of higher worthThan many a fruit of weeks of close research.(He disappears behind some thick bushes. Enter Johannes, sunk in deep thought.)Johannes to himself:Was this some dream, or was it truth indeed?I cannot bear the words my friend just spakeIn calm serenity and yet so firmAbout our separation which must come.Would I might think it was but worldly sense,That sets itself against the spirit’s trend,And, like a mirage, stands between us twain.I cannot, and I will not let the wordsOf warning which Maria spake to meThus quench the sounding voice of mine own soulWhich says ‘I love her,’ says it night and day.Out of the fountain of my love aloneSprings that activity for which I crave.What value hath my impulse to createOr yet my outlook on high spirit-aimsIf they would rob me of that very lightWhich can alone irradiate myself?In this illumination must I live,And if it is to be withdrawn from meThen shall my choice be death for evermore.I feel my forces fail me at this hourAs soon as I would set myself to think;It must be that I wander o’er a pathWhereon her light sheds not its radiant beam.A mist begins to form before mine eyesWhich shrouds the marvels o’er, which used to makeThese woods, these cliffs a glory to mine eyes,—A fearful dream mounts from abysmal depths—Which shakes me through and through with fear and dread—O get thee gone from me;—I yearn to beAlone to dream my individual dreams;In them at least I still can fight and striveTo win back that which now seems lost to me.He will not go;—then will I fly from him.(He feels as if he were rooted to the ground.)What are the bonds that hold me prisonerAnd chain me, as with fetters, to this place?(The Double of Johannes Thomasius appears.)Ah!—whosoe’er thou art; if human bloodDoth course within thy veins, or if thou artSome spirit only—leave me and depart.Who is it?—Here some demon brings to meMy own self’s likeness,—he will not depart;—It is the picture of my very selfAnd seems to be more powerful than that self.—Double:Maria, I do love thee;—beating heartAnd fevered blood are mine when at thy side.And when thine eye meets mine, my pulse doth thrillWith passion’s tremor: when thy dearest handDoth nestle in mine own, my body swoonsWith rapture and delight.Johannes:With rapture and delight.Thou phantom ghost,Of mist and fog compact, how dost thou dareTo utter blasphemy and so malignThe purest feelings of my heart. How greatA load of guilt must I have laid on me,That I must be compelled to look uponSuch lust—befouled distortion of that loveThat is to me so holy.Double:That is to me so holy.I have lentFull oft unto thy words a listening ear.I seemed to draw them up into my soulAs ’twere some message from the spirit-world.But more than any scene thy words disclosedI loved to have thy body close to mine.And when thou spakst of soul-paths I was filledWith rapture that went leaping through my veins.(The voice of conscience speaks.)Conscience:This is the unconfessedBut not yet dispossessedApparently repressedStill by the blood possessedThe hidden lureOf sexual power.Double(with a slightly different voice):I have no power to go away from thee;Oft wilt thou find me standing by thy side;I leave thee not till thou hast found the powerWhich makes of me the very counterpartOf that pure being which thou shalt become.As yet thou hast not reached that high estate.In the illusion of thy personal selfThou thinkst mistakenly that thou art he.(Enter Lucifer and Ahriman.)Lucifer:O man, o’ercome thyself.O man, deliver me.Thou hast defeated meIn thy soul’s highest realm;But I am bound to theeIn thine own being’s depth.Me shalt thou ever findAcross thy path in lifeIf thou wouldst strive to shieldAll of thyself from me.O man, o’ercome thyself,O man, deliver me.Ahriman:O man, be bold and dare.O man, experience me.Thou hast availed to winTo spirit seership here,But I must spoil for theeThe longing of thy heart.Still must thou suffer oftDeep agony of soul,If thou dost not consentTo make use of my powers.O man be bold and dare.O man, experience me.(Lucifer and Ahriman vanish; the Double also. Johannes walks, deep in thought, into the dark recesses of the forest. Capesius appears again. He has, from his post behind the bushes, watched the scene between Johannes and the Double as if it were a vision.)Capesius:What have I seen and heard! It lay on meJust like some nightmare. Came ThomasiusWalking like one who is absorbed in thought;Then he stood still; it seemed as if he talkedWith someone, and yet no one else was there.I felt o’ercome as by some deadly fear;And saw no more of what went on around.As if I were asleep, and unaware,I must have sunk into yon picture-worldWhich I can now so clearly call to mind.It can indeed have been but little timeI sat and dreamed, unconscious of myself;And yet, how rich was yonder world of dreams,What strange impressions doth it make on me.Persons were there who lived in bygone days,I plainly saw them move and heard them speak.I dreamed about a spirit-brotherhoodWhich strove with steadfast purpose to attainUnto the heights which crown humanity.Among them I could clearly see myself,And all that happened was familiar too.A dream …, yet most unnerving was that dream.I know that in this life I certainlyCan ne’er have learned to know the like of it.And each impression that it leaves behindReacts like very life upon my soul.Those pictures draw me with resistless power …;O if I could but dream that dream again.Curtain, whilst Capesius remains standingThe following four scenes represent events taking place during the first third of the XIVth century.Their contents will show what Capesius, Thomasius, and Maria saw on looking back at their last incarnation.Scene 6A woodland meadow. In the background, high cliffs on which stands a castle. Summer evening. Countryfolk; Simon, the Jew; Thomas, the Master miner; the Monk. Countryfolk walking across the meadow, and stopping to talk.First Countryman:See yon vile Jew; he surely will not dareTo take the same road that we take ourselves;For things might very well come to his earsOn hearing which they’d burn for many a day.Second Countryman:We must make clear to his effrontery,Aye, very clear indeed, that we no moreWill tolerate his race in our good landAcross whose bounds he hath contrived to slink.First Countrywoman:He is protected by the noble knightsWho live up in yon castle; none of usMay enter it; the Jew is welcome there.For he doth do whate’er the knights desire.Third Countryman:’Tis very hard to know who serves the LordAnd who the devil. Thankful should we beTo our good lords who give us food and work.What should we be if it were not for them?Second Countrywoman:The Jew shall have my praise; his remediesHave cured me of the evil sickness that I had.Besides, he was so good and kind to me.And many more can tell the selfsame tale.Third Countrywoman:Yet did a monk let slip the truth to me,—The devil’s remedies the Jew employs.Beware his drugs; transformed within the bloodThey grant an entrance to all kinds of sin.Fourth Countryman:The men who wait upon the knights opposeOur ancient customs, saying that the JewHath stores of knowledge both to heal and blessWhich will in days to come be rightly prized.Fifth Countryman:New times and better are in store; I seeTheir coming in my spirit, when my soulPictures to me what eyes cannot behold.The knights intend to bring all this about.Fourth Countrywoman:We owe the Church obedience, for she guardsOur souls from devil-visions, and from death,And from hell-fire. The monks bid us bewareThe knights, and their vile sorcerer, the Jew.Fifth Countrywoman:Only a short time longer need we bearIn patience the oppression of the knights.Soon will their citadel in ruins lie.Thus hath it been foretold me in a dream.Sixth Countrywoman:I fear such tales betoken mortal sin—That noble knights do plot to bring us harm—Nought do I see but good come from their hands;I needs must count them Christians, as ourselves.Sixth Countryman:What men shall think of them in days to come’Twere best to leave to be adjudged by thoseWho shall live after us. Mere tools are we,Used by the knights in their satanic artsTo war against true Christianity.If they be driven out we shall be freedFrom their pernicious sway, and live our livesAs we shall choose, in this our native land.Now let us go to vespers, there to findThat which our souls require, and that which isIn harmony with our ancestral ways.These novel teachings suit us not at all.(Exeunt the countryfolk.)(Simon, the Jew, enters from the wood.)Simon:Where’er I go, I find awaiting meThe ancient hatred and the bitter taunts.And yet I suffer not a whit the lessEach time I find myself exposed to them.There seems to be no reasonable causeWhy people should behave toward me thus.And yet one thought pursues me evermoreWhich makes the truth apparent to my soul,That nothing can befall us without cause.So too a reason there must be for this,That suffering is the lot of all my tribe.So with the lords of yonder citadel,I find their lot is near akin to mine.They have but chosen of their own free willThat which by nature is imposed on me.They set themselves apart from all mankind,And strive in isolation to acquireThe powers through which they may attain their goal.Thus can I feel the debt I owe to fateAnd find her blessing in my loneliness.Forced to rely on my own soul aloneI took the realms of science for my field.And recognized from what I learned thereinThat ripe for new attainments was our time.The laws of nature, hitherto unknown,Must now reveal themselves unto mankindAnd make him master of the world of senseWhence he will be allowed to liberatePowers he can put to use for his own ends.So have I tried, as far as in me lay,To make fresh progress in the healing art.This toil endeared me to the brotherhood.Its members made me free of their estatesTo seek to find the forces that resideIn plants and ’neath the surface of the ground,That they may yield for us new benefits.My actions therefore march with their designs,And I confess that I have plucked with joyMuch goodly fruit whilst going on my way.(Exit into the wood.)Thomas, the Master miner, enters from the wood. Enter the Monk.)Thomas:Here will I sit and rest a little while.My soul hath need of rest to find itselfAfter the shocks which I have had to bear.(The Monk comes up to him.)Monk:I greet thee heartily, most valiant son.Thou hast come here in search of solitude.Thy work well done, thou wouldst have peace and quietIn which to turn thy thoughts to spirit-worlds.To see my well-loved pupil thus employedRejoiceth me. But why so sad thine eyes?’Twould seem anxiety weighs down your soul.Thomas:Pain oft is neighbour unto highest bliss;That this is so my own life proves today.Monk:Hast thou then met with bliss and pain at once?Thomas:I told thee, reverend father, that I lovedThe mountain-warden’s daughter, and confessedThat she was also greatly drawn to me.She is to marry me and share my life.Monk:She will be true to thee, come weal, come woe;She is a faithful daughter of the Church.Thomas:Such an one only would I take to wife;Since, honoured master, I have learned from theeThe meaning of obedience to God’s will.Monk:And art thou also certain of thy soul,That it will walk still further in the wayOf righteousness, which I have pointed out?Thomas:So sure as in this body beats a heart,So sure will I, thy son, be true for ayeTo those exalted teachings which of oldFrom thine own lips I was allowed to learn.Monk:And now that thou hast told me of thy blissLet me hear also from thee of thy woe.Thomas:Oft have I told thee what my life hath been.Scarce had I left my childhood’s days behindThan I began to travel and to roam.I never worked for long in any place.Ever I cherished in my heart the wishTo meet my father, whom I loved, althoughI had not heard a good report of him.He left my dear good mother all aloneBecause he wished to start his life anewUnhampered by a wife and children twain.The impulse for adventure dwelt in him.I was a child still, when he went from us.My sister was a tiny new-born babe.My mother died of grief in no long time.My sister was adopted by good folkWho later moved away from my old home.And of her fate I never more heard tell.Some relatives assisted me to learnA miner’s work, in which I expert grew,So that I found employment where I wished.The hope that some day I should once more findMy father, never vanished from my heart.And now my hope at last is realizedBut also is for ever torn from me.Matters of business led me yesterdayTo seek for speech with my superior.Thou knowst how lightly I esteem the knightWho issueth the directions for my workSince I have learned thou art his enemy.From that time forward I made up my mindNot to remain in service under him.For reasons which remain unknown to meThe knight alluded in our interviewTo matters which allowed him to declareHimself to be—the father whom I sought.What followed … I would gladly leave untold.It would not have been hard to overlookMy mother’s sufferings at his hands, and mine,When he and I once more stood face to face,And when he spoke, grief-burdened, of old days.But in his form, stood facing me, thy foe.And one thing then was manifest to me:—How deep a gulf must ever separateMyself from him, whom I so fain would love,And whom I sought so long and ardently.Now have I lost him for the second time,Such is the lot that hath befallen me.Monk:I would not e’er estrange thee from those tiesImposed on thee by blood-relationship.But what I can bestow upon thy soulShall ever be to thee a gift of love.Curtain

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

Capesius(to Strader who is entering):A hearty welcome to the friend whose tongueWith many a disputatious argumentStoutly withstood me! ’Tis long time sinceThou crossed this threshold. Yet in earlier daysThou wast my constant welcome visitor.

Capesius(to Strader who is entering):

A hearty welcome to the friend whose tongue

With many a disputatious argument

Stoutly withstood me! ’Tis long time since

Thou crossed this threshold. Yet in earlier days

Thou wast my constant welcome visitor.

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

Strader:

Alas I have not had the time to spare;

My life hath undergone a curious change.

No longer do I plague my weary brain

With hopeless problems. Now I dedicate

The knowledge I have won to honest work,

Such as may serve some useful end in life.

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

Capesius:

Thou meanest that thou hast given up thy quest?

Strader:Say rather, that it hath abandoned me.

Strader:

Say rather, that it hath abandoned me.

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

Capesius:

And what may be thy present labours’ goal?

Strader:There are no goals in life ordained for manWhich he may see and clearly understand.It is a mighty engine by whose wheelsWe are caught up and wearied, and cast outInto the darkness when our strength is spent.

Strader:

There are no goals in life ordained for man

Which he may see and clearly understand.

It is a mighty engine by whose wheels

We are caught up and wearied, and cast out

Into the darkness when our strength is spent.

Capesius:I knew thee in the days when eagerlyAnd undismayed thou didst set out to solveThe riddle of existence. I have learnedHow thou didst see thy treasured knowledge sinkInto the bottomless abyss, and howThy soul, profoundly shaken, had to drainThe bitter cup of disappointed dreams.But never for one moment did I thinkThat thou couldst drive the impulse from thy heartWhich had become so fully master there.

Capesius:

I knew thee in the days when eagerly

And undismayed thou didst set out to solve

The riddle of existence. I have learned

How thou didst see thy treasured knowledge sink

Into the bottomless abyss, and how

Thy soul, profoundly shaken, had to drain

The bitter cup of disappointed dreams.

But never for one moment did I think

That thou couldst drive the impulse from thy heart

Which had become so fully master there.

Strader:Thou hast but to recall a certain dayOn which a seeress by her truthful speechMade clear to me the error of my ways.I had no choice but to acknowledge thenThat thought, however hard it toil and strive,Can never reach the fountain-head of life.For thought cannot do otherwise than errIf it be so that highest wisdom’s lightCan be revealed to that dark power of soulOf which that woman showed herself possessed.The rules of science cannot ever leadTo such a revelation; that is plain.

Strader:

Thou hast but to recall a certain day

On which a seeress by her truthful speech

Made clear to me the error of my ways.

I had no choice but to acknowledge then

That thought, however hard it toil and strive,

Can never reach the fountain-head of life.

For thought cannot do otherwise than err

If it be so that highest wisdom’s light

Can be revealed to that dark power of soul

Of which that woman showed herself possessed.

The rules of science cannot ever lead

To such a revelation; that is plain.

Had this been all, and had I only metThis one defeat whilst following my quest,I do believe I could have brought myselfTo start afresh by striving to uniteMy methods with those other different ones.But when it further was made evidentThat some peculiar spirit-faculty,A mere hallucination as I deemed,Could transform trance into creative power,Hope disappeared, and left me in despair.

Had this been all, and had I only met

This one defeat whilst following my quest,

I do believe I could have brought myself

To start afresh by striving to unite

My methods with those other different ones.

But when it further was made evident

That some peculiar spirit-faculty,

A mere hallucination as I deemed,

Could transform trance into creative power,

Hope disappeared, and left me in despair.

Dost thou recall the painter, that young manWe both encountered whilst he was engrossedFollowing the dubious course of spirit-ways?After such buffetings from fate I livedFor many weeks benumbed, to madness nigh.And when by nature’s aid I was at lastRestored to sense, I made a firm resolveTo meddle with such seeking never more.Long, long it was before I had regainedMy body’s health; and ’twas a joyless time.I made myself proficient in those thingsThat lead to business and to normal life.So now I am a factory manager,Where screws are made. This is the work I thankFor many hours in which I can forgetMy bitter sufferings in a futile quest.

Dost thou recall the painter, that young man

We both encountered whilst he was engrossed

Following the dubious course of spirit-ways?

After such buffetings from fate I lived

For many weeks benumbed, to madness nigh.

And when by nature’s aid I was at last

Restored to sense, I made a firm resolve

To meddle with such seeking never more.

Long, long it was before I had regained

My body’s health; and ’twas a joyless time.

I made myself proficient in those things

That lead to business and to normal life.

So now I am a factory manager,

Where screws are made. This is the work I thank

For many hours in which I can forget

My bitter sufferings in a futile quest.

Capesius:I must confess I scarce can recognizeMy friend of former days; so differentIs now the guise in which he shows himself.Beside those hours of which thou spak’st just nowWere there not others full of storm and stress,In which the ancient conflicts were renewedThat urged thee forth from this benumbing life?

Capesius:

I must confess I scarce can recognize

My friend of former days; so different

Is now the guise in which he shows himself.

Beside those hours of which thou spak’st just now

Were there not others full of storm and stress,

In which the ancient conflicts were renewed

That urged thee forth from this benumbing life?

Strader:I am not spared those hours in mine own soulWhen impotence ’gainst impotence doth strive.And fate hath not so willed it in my caseThat rosy beams of hope should force their wayInto my heart, and leave assurance thereThat this my present life is not an utter loss.Renunciation is henceforth my goal.Yet may the force which such a task requiresEndow me later on with facultyTo follow up my quest in other ways.

Strader:

I am not spared those hours in mine own soul

When impotence ’gainst impotence doth strive.

And fate hath not so willed it in my case

That rosy beams of hope should force their way

Into my heart, and leave assurance there

That this my present life is not an utter loss.

Renunciation is henceforth my goal.

Yet may the force which such a task requires

Endow me later on with faculty

To follow up my quest in other ways.

(Aside.)

If this terrestrial life repeats itself.

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

Capesius:

Thou spak’st,—if I indeed have heard aright,—

Of repetition of thy life on earth.

Then hast thou really won this fateful truth,

Found it on spirit-journeys, which today

Thou none the less condemnst as dubious?

Strader:This is the way once travelled by thyselfTo that conviction which hath given me strengthTo make a new beginning of my life.I sought upon my sick-bed once for allIn comprehensive survey to embraceThe field of knowledge traversed by myself.And this I did, ere seeking other aims.I must have asked myself an hundred timesWhat we can learn from nature, and inferFrom what we know at present of her laws.I could not find a loophole for escape.The repetition of our earthly lifeCannot and must not be denied by thoughtThat doth not wish to tear itself awayFrom all research hath found for ages past.

Strader:

This is the way once travelled by thyself

To that conviction which hath given me strength

To make a new beginning of my life.

I sought upon my sick-bed once for all

In comprehensive survey to embrace

The field of knowledge traversed by myself.

And this I did, ere seeking other aims.

I must have asked myself an hundred times

What we can learn from nature, and infer

From what we know at present of her laws.

I could not find a loophole for escape.

The repetition of our earthly life

Cannot and must not be denied by thought

That doth not wish to tear itself away

From all research hath found for ages past.

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

Capesius:

Could I have had one such experience

Then should I have been spared much bitter pain.

I sought through many a weary wakeful night

For liberating thoughts to set me free.

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

Strader:

And yet it was this spirit lightning-flash

Which robbed me of my last remaining powers.

The strongest impulse of my soul hath been

Ever to seek for evidence in life

Of what my thought hath forced on me as truth.

So it befell, as if by chance, that I

E’en in those days of misery should prove,

And by my own life testify the truth,

That cruel truth with all that it involves:

Which is, that all our sorrows and our joys

Are but results of what we really are.

Aye! this is often very hard to bear.

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

Capesius:

Incredible seems such experience.

What can there be to overshadow truth,

For which we search unwearying, and which

Unto our spirit firm assurance gives.

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

Strader:

For thee it may be so, but not for me.

Thou art acquainted with my curious life.

By chance it seemed my parents’ plans were crossed.

Their purpose was to make a monk of me;

And naught so hurt them, they have often said,

In all their life as my apostasy.

I bore all this, yea and much more besides;

Just as one bears the other things in life

So long as birth and death appear the bounds

Appointed for our earthly pilgrimage.

So too my later life and all the hopes

That came to naught, to me a picture seemed

That only by itself could be explained.

Would that the day had never dawned, on which

I altered those convictions that I held,

For—bear in mind—I have not yet confessed

The total burden laid on me by fate.

No child was I of those who would have made

A monk of me, but an adopted son

Chosen by them when but a few days old.

My own real parents I have never known,

But was a stranger in my very home.

Nor less estranged have I remained from all

That happened round me in my later life.

And now my thought compels me to look back

Unto those days of long ago, and see

How from myself I stole the world away.

For thought is linked with thought to make a chain:

A man to whom it hath been thus ordained

To be a stranger in the world, before

His consciousness had ever dawned in him,

This man hath willed this fate upon himself

Ere he could will as consequence of thought.

And since I stay that which I was at first

I know without the shadow of a doubt

That all unknowing I am in the power

Of forces that control my destiny

And that will not reveal themselves to me.

Do I need more to give me cruel proof

How many veils enshroud mine inmost self?

Without false thirst for knowledge, judge this now;

Hath my new truth revealed the light to me?

It hath, at any rate, brought certainty

That I in mine uncertainty must stay.

Thus it portrays to me my destiny

And like in its own way, is my reply,

Half anguish and half bitter mockery.

A fearful sense of horror on me grew.

Tortured by scorn I must confront my life;

And scoffing at the mockery of fate

I yielded to the darkness. Yet there stayed

One single thought which I could realize:

Do with me what thou wilt, thou life-machine;

I am not curious how thy cog-wheels work!

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

Capesius:

The man whom I have recognized in thee

In such condition cannot long remain,

Bereft of Knowledge, even if he would.

Already I can see the days approach

When we shall both be other than we are.

The curtain falls, leaving them standing opposite one another

Scene 5A mountain glade, in which is situated Felix Balde’s solitary cottage. Evening. Dame Felicia Balde, Capesius, then Felix Balde; later on Johannes and his Double; afterwards Lucifer and Ahriman. Dame Felicia is seated on a bench in front of her cottage.Capesius(arriving, approaches her):I know an old friend will not ask in vainFor leave to stay and rest awhile with thee;Since now, e’en more than any former time,He needs what in thine house so oft he found.Felicia:When thou wast still far off thy wearied stepTold me the tale which now thine eyes repeat;That sorrow dwelleth in thy soul today.Capesius(who has seated himself):Even aforetime ’twas not granted meTo bring much merriment into thy home;But special patience must I crave todayWhen, heavy-hearted and of peace bereft,I force my way unto the home of peace.Felicia:We were right glad to see thee in the daysWhen scarce another man came near this house.And thou art still our friend, despite eventsThat came between us, e’en though many nowAre glad to seek us in this lonely glade.Capesius:The tale is true then which hath reached mine ears,That thy dear Felix, so reserved of yore,Is nowadays a man much visited?Felicia:’Tis so; good Felix used to shut us offFrom everyone—; but now the people throngTo question him, and he must answer them.His duty bids him lead this novel life.In former days he cared not to impart,Save to his inner self, the secret loreConcerning spirit-deeds and nature’s powersBy rock and forest unto him revealed.Nor did men seem to value it before.How great a change hath now come o’er the times!For many men now lend a willing earTo what they counted folly in the past,Greedy for wisdom, Felix can reveal.And when my dear good husband has to talk(Felix Balde comes out of the house.)Hour upon hour on end, as oft he doth,I long for those old days of which I spake.How oft would Felix earnestly declareThat in the quiet heart enshrined, the soulMust learn to treasure up the spirit-giftsFrom worlds divine in mercy sent to her.He held it treachery to that high speechOf spirit, to reveal it to an earThat was but open to the world of sense.Felix:Felicia cannot reconcile herselfTo this much altered fashion of our life.As she regrets the loneliness of old,So she deplores the many days that passIn which we have but few hours for ourselves.Capesius:What made thee welcome strangers to a houseThat shut them out so sternly heretofore?Felix:The spirit-voice which speaks within my heartBade me of yore be silent; I obeyed.Now that it bids me speak I show myselfEqually faithful unto its command.Our human nature undergoes a changeAs earth’s existence gradually evolves.Now are we very near an epoch’s close.And spirit-knowledge therefore must in partBe now revealéd unto every manWho chooseth to receive it to himself.I know how little what I have to tellIs in agreement with man’s current thought;The spirit-life, they say, must be made known,In strict and logical thought sequences,And men deny all logic to my words.True science on a firm foundation based,Cannot, they say, regard me otherwise,Than as a visionary soul who seeksA solitary road to wisdom’s seat,And knows no more of science than of art.Yet not a few declare it worth their whileThe tangle of my language to exploreBecause therein from time to time is foundSomething of worth, to reason not opposed.I am a man into whose heart must flow,Untouched by art, each vision he may see.Nought know I of a knowledge lacking words.When I retreat within mine inmost heartAnd also when I list to nature’s voiceThen such a knowledge wakes to life in meAs hath no need to seek for any words;Speech is to it as intimately linkedAs is his body’s sheath to man on earth;And knowledge such as this, which in this wiseReveals itself to us from spirit-worlds,Can be of service even unto thoseWho understand it not. And so it isThat every man is free to come to meWho will attend to what I have to say.Many are led by curiosityAnd other trivial reasons to my door.I know that this is so, but also knowThat though the souls of just such men as theseAre not this moment living for the light,Yet in them have been planted seeds of goodWhich will not fail to ripen in due time.Capesius:Let me, I pray thee, freely speak my mind.I have admired thee now these many years;Yet up till now I have not grasped the senseWhich underlies thy strange mysterious words.Felix:It surely will unfold itself to thee;For with a lofty spirit dost thou striveAnd noble heart, and so the time must comeWhen thou thyself shalt hear the voice of truth.Thou dost not mark how full of rich contentMan, as the image of the cosmos, is.His head doth mirror heaven’s very self,The spirits of the spheres work through his limbs,And in his breast earth-beings hold their sway.To all of these opposed, in all their mightAppear the demons, natives of the Moon,Whose lot it is to cross those beings’ aims.The human being who before us stands,The soul through which we learn to feel desire,The spirit who illuminates our path:All these, full many gods have worked to mouldThroughout the ages of eternity;And this their purpose was: to join in one,Forces proceeding out of all the worldsWhich should, in combination, make mankind.Capesius:Thy words come near to causing me alarm,For they regard mankind as nothing elseThan product of divine activities.Felix:And so a man who sets himself to learnTrue spirit science must be meek indeed.And he who, arrogant and vain, desiresTo gain nought else than knowledge of himself;For him the gates of wisdom open not.Capesius:Once more, no doubt, will Dame FeliciaCome to mine aid, as she so oft hath done,And make a picture for my seeking soul,Which, being warmed thereat, may rightly graspThe real true meaning in thy words contained.Felicia:Dear Felix oft hath told me in the pastThe very words which now he spake to thee.They freed a vision in mine heart, which IDid promise, then and there, I must relateSome day to thee.Capesius:Some day to thee.Oh do so, dearest dame;I sorely crave refreshment, such as thou,Out of thy picture-storehouse canst provide.Felicia:So be it then. There once did live a boy,The only child of needy forest-folk,Who grew up in the woodland solitudes;Few souls he knew beside his parents twain.His build was slender, and his skinwell-nighTransparent; marvels of the spirit hidDeep in his eye; long could one gaze therein.And though few human beings ever cameInto the circle of his daily life,The lad was well befriended none the less.When golden sunshine bathed the neighbouring hills,With thoughtful eyes he drew the spirit-goldInto his soul, until his heart becameKin to the morning glory of the sun.But when the morning sunshine could not breakThrough dense dark banks of cloud, and heavinessLay on the hills around, his eye grew sad,And sorrow took possession of his heart.Thus his attention only centred onThe spirit-fabric of his narrow world,A world that seemed as much a part of himAs did his limbs and body. Woodlands allAnd trees and flowers he felt to be his friends;From crown and calyx and from tops of trees,The spirit beings spake full oft to him,And all their whisperings were lucid speech.Marvels and wonders of the hidden worldsDisclosed themselves unto the boy when heHeld converse in his soul with many thingsBy men deemed lifeless. Evening often fell,And still the boy would be away from home,And cause his loving parents much distress.At such times he was at a place near byIn which a spring rose gushing from the rocks,To fall in misty spray upon the stones.When silver moonbeams would reflect themselves,A miracle of colour and of light,Full in the rush of hasting waterdrops,The boy could spend beside the rock-born springHour after hour, till spirit-shapes appearedBefore the vision of the youthful seerWhere moonbeams shivered on the falling drops.They grew to be three forms in woman’s shape,Who spoke to him about those things in whichHis yearning soul made known its interest.And when upon a gentle summer nightThe lad was once more sitting by the spring,A myriad particles one woman tookFrom out the coloured web of waterdropsAnd to the second woman handed them.She fashioned from the watery particlesA gleaming chalice with a silver sheenAnd handed it in turn unto the third.She filled the vessel with the silver raysOf moonlight and then gave it to the boy,Who had beheld all this with inner sight.During the night which followed this eventHe dreamed a dream in which he saw himselfRobbed of this chalice by some dragon wild.After this night had passed, the boy beheldBut three times more the marvel of the stream.Then the three women stayed away from himAlthough he sat and mused beside the springThat gushed beneath the moonlight from the rock.And when three times three hundred sixty weeksHad passed, the boy had long become a man,And left home, parents, and his woodland nookTo live in some strange city. There one eveHe sat and thought, tired with the day’s hard toil,Musing on what life held in store for him,When suddenly he felt himself caught upAnd set again beside that rock-bound spring;The women three, he there beheld once more,And this time clearly he could hear them speak.These were the words the first one spake to him:‘Think of me always whensoe’er thou artO’ercome by loneliness, for I am sheWho lures the inner vision of mankindTo starry realms and heavenly distances.And whosoever wills to feel my swayTo him I give a draught of life and hopeOut of the magic goblet which I hold.’The second also spake these words to him:‘Forget me not at times when thou art nighTo losing courage on life’s battlefield.I lead men’s yearning hearts to depths of soulAnd also up to lofty spirit-heights.And whosoever seeks his powers from me,For him I forge unwavering faith in lifeShaped by the magic hammer which I wield.’The third one gave her message in these words:‘Lift up thy spirit’s eye to gaze on meWhen by life’s riddles thou art overwhelmed.’Tis I who spin the threads of thought that leadThrough labyrinths of life and depths of soul.And whosoever puts his trust in meFor him I weave the rays of living loveUpon this magic loom at which I sit.’Thus it befell the man, and in the nightThat followed on his vision he did dream,How that a dragon wild in circles creptRound him, but was not able to draw near.He was protected from that dragon’s clawsBy those same beings whom he saw of oldSeated beside the spring among the rocks,Who had gone with him, when he left his home,To guard him in his strange environment.Capesius:Accept my thanks, dear dame, before I go,For this rich treasure thou hast given me.(Stands up and departs;Felix and Dame Felicia go into the house.)Capesius(alone and at some distance):I feel the health that such a picture bringsInto my soul, and how to all my thoughtsIt can restore the forces they had lost.Simple the tale unfolded by the dame,And yet it rouseth powers of thought in meThat carry me away to worlds unknown.…Therefore will I in this fair solitudeMyself to dreams abandon, which so oftHave sought to usher thoughts into my soul,Thoughts which have proved themselves of higher worthThan many a fruit of weeks of close research.(He disappears behind some thick bushes. Enter Johannes, sunk in deep thought.)Johannes to himself:Was this some dream, or was it truth indeed?I cannot bear the words my friend just spakeIn calm serenity and yet so firmAbout our separation which must come.Would I might think it was but worldly sense,That sets itself against the spirit’s trend,And, like a mirage, stands between us twain.I cannot, and I will not let the wordsOf warning which Maria spake to meThus quench the sounding voice of mine own soulWhich says ‘I love her,’ says it night and day.Out of the fountain of my love aloneSprings that activity for which I crave.What value hath my impulse to createOr yet my outlook on high spirit-aimsIf they would rob me of that very lightWhich can alone irradiate myself?In this illumination must I live,And if it is to be withdrawn from meThen shall my choice be death for evermore.I feel my forces fail me at this hourAs soon as I would set myself to think;It must be that I wander o’er a pathWhereon her light sheds not its radiant beam.A mist begins to form before mine eyesWhich shrouds the marvels o’er, which used to makeThese woods, these cliffs a glory to mine eyes,—A fearful dream mounts from abysmal depths—Which shakes me through and through with fear and dread—O get thee gone from me;—I yearn to beAlone to dream my individual dreams;In them at least I still can fight and striveTo win back that which now seems lost to me.He will not go;—then will I fly from him.(He feels as if he were rooted to the ground.)What are the bonds that hold me prisonerAnd chain me, as with fetters, to this place?(The Double of Johannes Thomasius appears.)Ah!—whosoe’er thou art; if human bloodDoth course within thy veins, or if thou artSome spirit only—leave me and depart.Who is it?—Here some demon brings to meMy own self’s likeness,—he will not depart;—It is the picture of my very selfAnd seems to be more powerful than that self.—Double:Maria, I do love thee;—beating heartAnd fevered blood are mine when at thy side.And when thine eye meets mine, my pulse doth thrillWith passion’s tremor: when thy dearest handDoth nestle in mine own, my body swoonsWith rapture and delight.Johannes:With rapture and delight.Thou phantom ghost,Of mist and fog compact, how dost thou dareTo utter blasphemy and so malignThe purest feelings of my heart. How greatA load of guilt must I have laid on me,That I must be compelled to look uponSuch lust—befouled distortion of that loveThat is to me so holy.Double:That is to me so holy.I have lentFull oft unto thy words a listening ear.I seemed to draw them up into my soulAs ’twere some message from the spirit-world.But more than any scene thy words disclosedI loved to have thy body close to mine.And when thou spakst of soul-paths I was filledWith rapture that went leaping through my veins.(The voice of conscience speaks.)Conscience:This is the unconfessedBut not yet dispossessedApparently repressedStill by the blood possessedThe hidden lureOf sexual power.Double(with a slightly different voice):I have no power to go away from thee;Oft wilt thou find me standing by thy side;I leave thee not till thou hast found the powerWhich makes of me the very counterpartOf that pure being which thou shalt become.As yet thou hast not reached that high estate.In the illusion of thy personal selfThou thinkst mistakenly that thou art he.(Enter Lucifer and Ahriman.)Lucifer:O man, o’ercome thyself.O man, deliver me.Thou hast defeated meIn thy soul’s highest realm;But I am bound to theeIn thine own being’s depth.Me shalt thou ever findAcross thy path in lifeIf thou wouldst strive to shieldAll of thyself from me.O man, o’ercome thyself,O man, deliver me.Ahriman:O man, be bold and dare.O man, experience me.Thou hast availed to winTo spirit seership here,But I must spoil for theeThe longing of thy heart.Still must thou suffer oftDeep agony of soul,If thou dost not consentTo make use of my powers.O man be bold and dare.O man, experience me.(Lucifer and Ahriman vanish; the Double also. Johannes walks, deep in thought, into the dark recesses of the forest. Capesius appears again. He has, from his post behind the bushes, watched the scene between Johannes and the Double as if it were a vision.)Capesius:What have I seen and heard! It lay on meJust like some nightmare. Came ThomasiusWalking like one who is absorbed in thought;Then he stood still; it seemed as if he talkedWith someone, and yet no one else was there.I felt o’ercome as by some deadly fear;And saw no more of what went on around.As if I were asleep, and unaware,I must have sunk into yon picture-worldWhich I can now so clearly call to mind.It can indeed have been but little timeI sat and dreamed, unconscious of myself;And yet, how rich was yonder world of dreams,What strange impressions doth it make on me.Persons were there who lived in bygone days,I plainly saw them move and heard them speak.I dreamed about a spirit-brotherhoodWhich strove with steadfast purpose to attainUnto the heights which crown humanity.Among them I could clearly see myself,And all that happened was familiar too.A dream …, yet most unnerving was that dream.I know that in this life I certainlyCan ne’er have learned to know the like of it.And each impression that it leaves behindReacts like very life upon my soul.Those pictures draw me with resistless power …;O if I could but dream that dream again.Curtain, whilst Capesius remains standingThe following four scenes represent events taking place during the first third of the XIVth century.Their contents will show what Capesius, Thomasius, and Maria saw on looking back at their last incarnation.

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

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

Capesius(arriving, approaches her):

I know an old friend will not ask in vain

For leave to stay and rest awhile with thee;

Since now, e’en more than any former time,

He needs what in thine house so oft he found.

Felicia:When thou wast still far off thy wearied stepTold me the tale which now thine eyes repeat;That sorrow dwelleth in thy soul today.

Felicia:

When thou wast still far off thy wearied step

Told me the tale which now thine eyes repeat;

That sorrow dwelleth in thy soul today.

Capesius(who has seated himself):Even aforetime ’twas not granted meTo bring much merriment into thy home;But special patience must I crave todayWhen, heavy-hearted and of peace bereft,I force my way unto the home of peace.

Capesius(who has seated himself):

Even aforetime ’twas not granted me

To bring much merriment into thy home;

But special patience must I crave today

When, heavy-hearted and of peace bereft,

I force my way unto the home of peace.

Felicia:We were right glad to see thee in the daysWhen scarce another man came near this house.And thou art still our friend, despite eventsThat came between us, e’en though many nowAre glad to seek us in this lonely glade.

Felicia:

We were right glad to see thee in the days

When scarce another man came near this house.

And thou art still our friend, despite events

That came between us, e’en though many now

Are glad to seek us in this lonely glade.

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

Capesius:

The tale is true then which hath reached mine ears,

That thy dear Felix, so reserved of yore,

Is nowadays a man much visited?

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

Felicia:

’Tis so; good Felix used to shut us off

From everyone—; but now the people throng

To question him, and he must answer them.

His duty bids him lead this novel life.

In former days he cared not to impart,

Save to his inner self, the secret lore

Concerning spirit-deeds and nature’s powers

By rock and forest unto him revealed.

Nor did men seem to value it before.

How great a change hath now come o’er the times!

For many men now lend a willing ear

To what they counted folly in the past,

Greedy for wisdom, Felix can reveal.

And when my dear good husband has to talk

(Felix Balde comes out of the house.)

Hour upon hour on end, as oft he doth,I long for those old days of which I spake.How oft would Felix earnestly declareThat in the quiet heart enshrined, the soulMust learn to treasure up the spirit-giftsFrom worlds divine in mercy sent to her.He held it treachery to that high speechOf spirit, to reveal it to an earThat was but open to the world of sense.

Hour upon hour on end, as oft he doth,

I long for those old days of which I spake.

How oft would Felix earnestly declare

That in the quiet heart enshrined, the soul

Must learn to treasure up the spirit-gifts

From worlds divine in mercy sent to her.

He held it treachery to that high speech

Of spirit, to reveal it to an ear

That was but open to the world of sense.

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

Felix:

Felicia cannot reconcile herself

To this much altered fashion of our life.

As she regrets the loneliness of old,

So she deplores the many days that pass

In which we have but few hours for ourselves.

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

Capesius:

What made thee welcome strangers to a house

That shut them out so sternly heretofore?

Felix:The spirit-voice which speaks within my heartBade me of yore be silent; I obeyed.Now that it bids me speak I show myselfEqually faithful unto its command.Our human nature undergoes a changeAs earth’s existence gradually evolves.Now are we very near an epoch’s close.And spirit-knowledge therefore must in partBe now revealéd unto every manWho chooseth to receive it to himself.I know how little what I have to tellIs in agreement with man’s current thought;The spirit-life, they say, must be made known,In strict and logical thought sequences,And men deny all logic to my words.True science on a firm foundation based,Cannot, they say, regard me otherwise,Than as a visionary soul who seeksA solitary road to wisdom’s seat,And knows no more of science than of art.Yet not a few declare it worth their whileThe tangle of my language to exploreBecause therein from time to time is foundSomething of worth, to reason not opposed.I am a man into whose heart must flow,Untouched by art, each vision he may see.Nought know I of a knowledge lacking words.When I retreat within mine inmost heartAnd also when I list to nature’s voiceThen such a knowledge wakes to life in meAs hath no need to seek for any words;Speech is to it as intimately linkedAs is his body’s sheath to man on earth;And knowledge such as this, which in this wiseReveals itself to us from spirit-worlds,Can be of service even unto thoseWho understand it not. And so it isThat every man is free to come to meWho will attend to what I have to say.Many are led by curiosityAnd other trivial reasons to my door.I know that this is so, but also knowThat though the souls of just such men as theseAre not this moment living for the light,Yet in them have been planted seeds of goodWhich will not fail to ripen in due time.

Felix:

The spirit-voice which speaks within my heart

Bade me of yore be silent; I obeyed.

Now that it bids me speak I show myself

Equally faithful unto its command.

Our human nature undergoes a change

As earth’s existence gradually evolves.

Now are we very near an epoch’s close.

And spirit-knowledge therefore must in part

Be now revealéd unto every man

Who chooseth to receive it to himself.

I know how little what I have to tell

Is in agreement with man’s current thought;

The spirit-life, they say, must be made known,

In strict and logical thought sequences,

And men deny all logic to my words.

True science on a firm foundation based,

Cannot, they say, regard me otherwise,

Than as a visionary soul who seeks

A solitary road to wisdom’s seat,

And knows no more of science than of art.

Yet not a few declare it worth their while

The tangle of my language to explore

Because therein from time to time is found

Something of worth, to reason not opposed.

I am a man into whose heart must flow,

Untouched by art, each vision he may see.

Nought know I of a knowledge lacking words.

When I retreat within mine inmost heart

And also when I list to nature’s voice

Then such a knowledge wakes to life in me

As hath no need to seek for any words;

Speech is to it as intimately linked

As is his body’s sheath to man on earth;

And knowledge such as this, which in this wise

Reveals itself to us from spirit-worlds,

Can be of service even unto those

Who understand it not. And so it is

That every man is free to come to me

Who will attend to what I have to say.

Many are led by curiosity

And other trivial reasons to my door.

I know that this is so, but also know

That though the souls of just such men as these

Are not this moment living for the light,

Yet in them have been planted seeds of good

Which will not fail to ripen in due time.

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

Capesius:

Let me, I pray thee, freely speak my mind.

I have admired thee now these many years;

Yet up till now I have not grasped the sense

Which underlies thy strange mysterious words.

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

Felix:

It surely will unfold itself to thee;

For with a lofty spirit dost thou strive

And noble heart, and so the time must come

When thou thyself shalt hear the voice of truth.

Thou dost not mark how full of rich content

Man, as the image of the cosmos, is.

His head doth mirror heaven’s very self,

The spirits of the spheres work through his limbs,

And in his breast earth-beings hold their sway.

To all of these opposed, in all their might

Appear the demons, natives of the Moon,

Whose lot it is to cross those beings’ aims.

The human being who before us stands,

The soul through which we learn to feel desire,

The spirit who illuminates our path:

All these, full many gods have worked to mould

Throughout the ages of eternity;

And this their purpose was: to join in one,

Forces proceeding out of all the worlds

Which should, in combination, make mankind.

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

Capesius:

Thy words come near to causing me alarm,

For they regard mankind as nothing else

Than product of divine activities.

Felix:And so a man who sets himself to learnTrue spirit science must be meek indeed.And he who, arrogant and vain, desiresTo gain nought else than knowledge of himself;For him the gates of wisdom open not.

Felix:

And so a man who sets himself to learn

True spirit science must be meek indeed.

And he who, arrogant and vain, desires

To gain nought else than knowledge of himself;

For him the gates of wisdom open not.

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

Capesius:

Once more, no doubt, will Dame Felicia

Come to mine aid, as she so oft hath done,

And make a picture for my seeking soul,

Which, being warmed thereat, may rightly grasp

The real true meaning in thy words contained.

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

Felicia:

Dear Felix oft hath told me in the past

The very words which now he spake to thee.

They freed a vision in mine heart, which I

Did promise, then and there, I must relate

Some day to thee.

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

Capesius:

Some day to thee.Oh do so, dearest dame;

I sorely crave refreshment, such as thou,

Out of thy picture-storehouse canst provide.

Felicia:So be it then. There once did live a boy,The only child of needy forest-folk,Who grew up in the woodland solitudes;Few souls he knew beside his parents twain.His build was slender, and his skinwell-nighTransparent; marvels of the spirit hidDeep in his eye; long could one gaze therein.And though few human beings ever cameInto the circle of his daily life,The lad was well befriended none the less.When golden sunshine bathed the neighbouring hills,With thoughtful eyes he drew the spirit-goldInto his soul, until his heart becameKin to the morning glory of the sun.But when the morning sunshine could not breakThrough dense dark banks of cloud, and heavinessLay on the hills around, his eye grew sad,And sorrow took possession of his heart.Thus his attention only centred onThe spirit-fabric of his narrow world,A world that seemed as much a part of himAs did his limbs and body. Woodlands allAnd trees and flowers he felt to be his friends;From crown and calyx and from tops of trees,The spirit beings spake full oft to him,And all their whisperings were lucid speech.Marvels and wonders of the hidden worldsDisclosed themselves unto the boy when heHeld converse in his soul with many thingsBy men deemed lifeless. Evening often fell,And still the boy would be away from home,And cause his loving parents much distress.At such times he was at a place near byIn which a spring rose gushing from the rocks,To fall in misty spray upon the stones.When silver moonbeams would reflect themselves,A miracle of colour and of light,Full in the rush of hasting waterdrops,The boy could spend beside the rock-born springHour after hour, till spirit-shapes appearedBefore the vision of the youthful seerWhere moonbeams shivered on the falling drops.They grew to be three forms in woman’s shape,Who spoke to him about those things in whichHis yearning soul made known its interest.And when upon a gentle summer nightThe lad was once more sitting by the spring,A myriad particles one woman tookFrom out the coloured web of waterdropsAnd to the second woman handed them.She fashioned from the watery particlesA gleaming chalice with a silver sheenAnd handed it in turn unto the third.She filled the vessel with the silver raysOf moonlight and then gave it to the boy,Who had beheld all this with inner sight.During the night which followed this eventHe dreamed a dream in which he saw himselfRobbed of this chalice by some dragon wild.After this night had passed, the boy beheldBut three times more the marvel of the stream.Then the three women stayed away from himAlthough he sat and mused beside the springThat gushed beneath the moonlight from the rock.And when three times three hundred sixty weeksHad passed, the boy had long become a man,And left home, parents, and his woodland nookTo live in some strange city. There one eveHe sat and thought, tired with the day’s hard toil,Musing on what life held in store for him,When suddenly he felt himself caught upAnd set again beside that rock-bound spring;The women three, he there beheld once more,And this time clearly he could hear them speak.These were the words the first one spake to him:‘Think of me always whensoe’er thou artO’ercome by loneliness, for I am sheWho lures the inner vision of mankindTo starry realms and heavenly distances.And whosoever wills to feel my swayTo him I give a draught of life and hopeOut of the magic goblet which I hold.’The second also spake these words to him:‘Forget me not at times when thou art nighTo losing courage on life’s battlefield.I lead men’s yearning hearts to depths of soulAnd also up to lofty spirit-heights.And whosoever seeks his powers from me,For him I forge unwavering faith in lifeShaped by the magic hammer which I wield.’The third one gave her message in these words:‘Lift up thy spirit’s eye to gaze on meWhen by life’s riddles thou art overwhelmed.’Tis I who spin the threads of thought that leadThrough labyrinths of life and depths of soul.And whosoever puts his trust in meFor him I weave the rays of living loveUpon this magic loom at which I sit.’Thus it befell the man, and in the nightThat followed on his vision he did dream,How that a dragon wild in circles creptRound him, but was not able to draw near.He was protected from that dragon’s clawsBy those same beings whom he saw of oldSeated beside the spring among the rocks,Who had gone with him, when he left his home,To guard him in his strange environment.

Felicia:

So be it then. There once did live a boy,

The only child of needy forest-folk,

Who grew up in the woodland solitudes;

Few souls he knew beside his parents twain.

His build was slender, and his skinwell-nigh

Transparent; marvels of the spirit hid

Deep in his eye; long could one gaze therein.

And though few human beings ever came

Into the circle of his daily life,

The lad was well befriended none the less.

When golden sunshine bathed the neighbouring hills,

With thoughtful eyes he drew the spirit-gold

Into his soul, until his heart became

Kin to the morning glory of the sun.

But when the morning sunshine could not break

Through dense dark banks of cloud, and heaviness

Lay on the hills around, his eye grew sad,

And sorrow took possession of his heart.

Thus his attention only centred on

The spirit-fabric of his narrow world,

A world that seemed as much a part of him

As did his limbs and body. Woodlands all

And trees and flowers he felt to be his friends;

From crown and calyx and from tops of trees,

The spirit beings spake full oft to him,

And all their whisperings were lucid speech.

Marvels and wonders of the hidden worlds

Disclosed themselves unto the boy when he

Held converse in his soul with many things

By men deemed lifeless. Evening often fell,

And still the boy would be away from home,

And cause his loving parents much distress.

At such times he was at a place near by

In which a spring rose gushing from the rocks,

To fall in misty spray upon the stones.

When silver moonbeams would reflect themselves,

A miracle of colour and of light,

Full in the rush of hasting waterdrops,

The boy could spend beside the rock-born spring

Hour after hour, till spirit-shapes appeared

Before the vision of the youthful seer

Where moonbeams shivered on the falling drops.

They grew to be three forms in woman’s shape,

Who spoke to him about those things in which

His yearning soul made known its interest.

And when upon a gentle summer night

The lad was once more sitting by the spring,

A myriad particles one woman took

From out the coloured web of waterdrops

And to the second woman handed them.

She fashioned from the watery particles

A gleaming chalice with a silver sheen

And handed it in turn unto the third.

She filled the vessel with the silver rays

Of moonlight and then gave it to the boy,

Who had beheld all this with inner sight.

During the night which followed this event

He dreamed a dream in which he saw himself

Robbed of this chalice by some dragon wild.

After this night had passed, the boy beheld

But three times more the marvel of the stream.

Then the three women stayed away from him

Although he sat and mused beside the spring

That gushed beneath the moonlight from the rock.

And when three times three hundred sixty weeks

Had passed, the boy had long become a man,

And left home, parents, and his woodland nook

To live in some strange city. There one eve

He sat and thought, tired with the day’s hard toil,

Musing on what life held in store for him,

When suddenly he felt himself caught up

And set again beside that rock-bound spring;

The women three, he there beheld once more,

And this time clearly he could hear them speak.

These were the words the first one spake to him:

‘Think of me always whensoe’er thou art

O’ercome by loneliness, for I am she

Who lures the inner vision of mankind

To starry realms and heavenly distances.

And whosoever wills to feel my sway

To him I give a draught of life and hope

Out of the magic goblet which I hold.’

The second also spake these words to him:

‘Forget me not at times when thou art nigh

To losing courage on life’s battlefield.

I lead men’s yearning hearts to depths of soul

And also up to lofty spirit-heights.

And whosoever seeks his powers from me,

For him I forge unwavering faith in life

Shaped by the magic hammer which I wield.’

The third one gave her message in these words:

‘Lift up thy spirit’s eye to gaze on me

When by life’s riddles thou art overwhelmed.

’Tis I who spin the threads of thought that lead

Through labyrinths of life and depths of soul.

And whosoever puts his trust in me

For him I weave the rays of living love

Upon this magic loom at which I sit.’

Thus it befell the man, and in the night

That followed on his vision he did dream,

How that a dragon wild in circles crept

Round him, but was not able to draw near.

He was protected from that dragon’s claws

By those same beings whom he saw of old

Seated beside the spring among the rocks,

Who had gone with him, when he left his home,

To guard him in his strange environment.

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

Capesius:

Accept my thanks, dear dame, before I go,

For this rich treasure thou hast given me.

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

Capesius(alone and at some distance):I feel the health that such a picture bringsInto my soul, and how to all my thoughtsIt can restore the forces they had lost.Simple the tale unfolded by the dame,And yet it rouseth powers of thought in meThat carry me away to worlds unknown.…Therefore will I in this fair solitudeMyself to dreams abandon, which so oftHave sought to usher thoughts into my soul,Thoughts which have proved themselves of higher worthThan many a fruit of weeks of close research.

Capesius(alone and at some distance):

I feel the health that such a picture brings

Into my soul, and how to all my thoughts

It can restore the forces they had lost.

Simple the tale unfolded by the dame,

And yet it rouseth powers of thought in me

That carry me away to worlds unknown.…

Therefore will I in this fair solitude

Myself to dreams abandon, which so oft

Have sought to usher thoughts into my soul,

Thoughts which have proved themselves of higher worth

Than many a fruit of weeks of close research.

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

Johannes to himself:Was this some dream, or was it truth indeed?I cannot bear the words my friend just spakeIn calm serenity and yet so firmAbout our separation which must come.Would I might think it was but worldly sense,That sets itself against the spirit’s trend,And, like a mirage, stands between us twain.I cannot, and I will not let the wordsOf warning which Maria spake to meThus quench the sounding voice of mine own soulWhich says ‘I love her,’ says it night and day.Out of the fountain of my love aloneSprings that activity for which I crave.What value hath my impulse to createOr yet my outlook on high spirit-aimsIf they would rob me of that very lightWhich can alone irradiate myself?In this illumination must I live,And if it is to be withdrawn from meThen shall my choice be death for evermore.I feel my forces fail me at this hourAs soon as I would set myself to think;It must be that I wander o’er a pathWhereon her light sheds not its radiant beam.

Johannes to himself:

Was this some dream, or was it truth indeed?

I cannot bear the words my friend just spake

In calm serenity and yet so firm

About our separation which must come.

Would I might think it was but worldly sense,

That sets itself against the spirit’s trend,

And, like a mirage, stands between us twain.

I cannot, and I will not let the words

Of warning which Maria spake to me

Thus quench the sounding voice of mine own soul

Which says ‘I love her,’ says it night and day.

Out of the fountain of my love alone

Springs that activity for which I crave.

What value hath my impulse to create

Or yet my outlook on high spirit-aims

If they would rob me of that very light

Which can alone irradiate myself?

In this illumination must I live,

And if it is to be withdrawn from me

Then shall my choice be death for evermore.

I feel my forces fail me at this hour

As soon as I would set myself to think;

It must be that I wander o’er a path

Whereon her light sheds not its radiant beam.

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

A mist begins to form before mine eyes

Which shrouds the marvels o’er, which used to make

These woods, these cliffs a glory to mine eyes,—

A fearful dream mounts from abysmal depths—

Which shakes me through and through with fear and dread—

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

O get thee gone from me;—I yearn to be

Alone to dream my individual dreams;

In them at least I still can fight and strive

To win back that which now seems lost to me.

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

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

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

What are the bonds that hold me prisoner

And chain me, as with fetters, to this place?

(The Double of Johannes Thomasius appears.)

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

Ah!—whosoe’er thou art; if human blood

Doth course within thy veins, or if thou art

Some spirit only—leave me and depart.

Who is it?—Here some demon brings to me

My own self’s likeness,—he will not depart;—

It is the picture of my very self

And seems to be more powerful than that self.—

Double:Maria, I do love thee;—beating heartAnd fevered blood are mine when at thy side.And when thine eye meets mine, my pulse doth thrillWith passion’s tremor: when thy dearest handDoth nestle in mine own, my body swoonsWith rapture and delight.

Double:

Maria, I do love thee;—beating heart

And fevered blood are mine when at thy side.

And when thine eye meets mine, my pulse doth thrill

With passion’s tremor: when thy dearest hand

Doth nestle in mine own, my body swoons

With rapture and delight.

Johannes:With rapture and delight.Thou phantom ghost,Of mist and fog compact, how dost thou dareTo utter blasphemy and so malignThe purest feelings of my heart. How greatA load of guilt must I have laid on me,That I must be compelled to look uponSuch lust—befouled distortion of that loveThat is to me so holy.

Johannes:

With rapture and delight.Thou phantom ghost,

Of mist and fog compact, how dost thou dare

To utter blasphemy and so malign

The purest feelings of my heart. How great

A load of guilt must I have laid on me,

That I must be compelled to look upon

Such lust—befouled distortion of that love

That is to me so holy.

Double:That is to me so holy.I have lentFull oft unto thy words a listening ear.I seemed to draw them up into my soulAs ’twere some message from the spirit-world.But more than any scene thy words disclosedI loved to have thy body close to mine.And when thou spakst of soul-paths I was filledWith rapture that went leaping through my veins.

Double:

That is to me so holy.I have lent

Full oft unto thy words a listening ear.

I seemed to draw them up into my soul

As ’twere some message from the spirit-world.

But more than any scene thy words disclosed

I loved to have thy body close to mine.

And when thou spakst of soul-paths I was filled

With rapture that went leaping through my veins.

(The voice of conscience speaks.)

Conscience:This is the unconfessedBut not yet dispossessedApparently repressedStill by the blood possessedThe hidden lureOf sexual power.

Conscience:

This is the unconfessed

But not yet dispossessed

Apparently repressed

Still by the blood possessed

The hidden lure

Of sexual power.

Double(with a slightly different voice):I have no power to go away from thee;Oft wilt thou find me standing by thy side;I leave thee not till thou hast found the powerWhich makes of me the very counterpartOf that pure being which thou shalt become.As yet thou hast not reached that high estate.In the illusion of thy personal selfThou thinkst mistakenly that thou art he.

Double(with a slightly different voice):

I have no power to go away from thee;

Oft wilt thou find me standing by thy side;

I leave thee not till thou hast found the power

Which makes of me the very counterpart

Of that pure being which thou shalt become.

As yet thou hast not reached that high estate.

In the illusion of thy personal self

Thou thinkst mistakenly that thou art he.

(Enter Lucifer and Ahriman.)

Lucifer:O man, o’ercome thyself.O man, deliver me.Thou hast defeated meIn thy soul’s highest realm;But I am bound to theeIn thine own being’s depth.Me shalt thou ever findAcross thy path in lifeIf thou wouldst strive to shieldAll of thyself from me.O man, o’ercome thyself,O man, deliver me.

Lucifer:

O man, o’ercome thyself.

O man, deliver me.

Thou hast defeated me

In thy soul’s highest realm;

But I am bound to thee

In thine own being’s depth.

Me shalt thou ever find

Across thy path in life

If thou wouldst strive to shield

All of thyself from me.

O man, o’ercome thyself,

O man, deliver me.

Ahriman:O man, be bold and dare.O man, experience me.Thou hast availed to winTo spirit seership here,But I must spoil for theeThe longing of thy heart.Still must thou suffer oftDeep agony of soul,If thou dost not consentTo make use of my powers.O man be bold and dare.O man, experience me.

Ahriman:

O man, be bold and dare.

O man, experience me.

Thou hast availed to win

To spirit seership here,

But I must spoil for thee

The longing of thy heart.

Still must thou suffer oft

Deep agony of soul,

If thou dost not consent

To make use of my powers.

O man be bold and dare.

O man, experience me.

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

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

Capesius:

What have I seen and heard! It lay on me

Just like some nightmare. Came Thomasius

Walking like one who is absorbed in thought;

Then he stood still; it seemed as if he talked

With someone, and yet no one else was there.

I felt o’ercome as by some deadly fear;

And saw no more of what went on around.

As if I were asleep, and unaware,

I must have sunk into yon picture-world

Which I can now so clearly call to mind.

It can indeed have been but little time

I sat and dreamed, unconscious of myself;

And yet, how rich was yonder world of dreams,

What strange impressions doth it make on me.

Persons were there who lived in bygone days,

I plainly saw them move and heard them speak.

I dreamed about a spirit-brotherhood

Which strove with steadfast purpose to attain

Unto the heights which crown humanity.

Among them I could clearly see myself,

And all that happened was familiar too.

A dream …, yet most unnerving was that dream.

I know that in this life I certainly

Can ne’er have learned to know the like of it.

And each impression that it leaves behind

Reacts like very life upon my soul.

Those pictures draw me with resistless power …;

O if I could but dream that dream again.

Curtain, whilst Capesius remains standing

The following four scenes represent events taking place during the first third of the XIVth century.

Their contents will show what Capesius, Thomasius, and Maria saw on looking back at their last incarnation.

Scene 6A woodland meadow. In the background, high cliffs on which stands a castle. Summer evening. Countryfolk; Simon, the Jew; Thomas, the Master miner; the Monk. Countryfolk walking across the meadow, and stopping to talk.First Countryman:See yon vile Jew; he surely will not dareTo take the same road that we take ourselves;For things might very well come to his earsOn hearing which they’d burn for many a day.Second Countryman:We must make clear to his effrontery,Aye, very clear indeed, that we no moreWill tolerate his race in our good landAcross whose bounds he hath contrived to slink.First Countrywoman:He is protected by the noble knightsWho live up in yon castle; none of usMay enter it; the Jew is welcome there.For he doth do whate’er the knights desire.Third Countryman:’Tis very hard to know who serves the LordAnd who the devil. Thankful should we beTo our good lords who give us food and work.What should we be if it were not for them?Second Countrywoman:The Jew shall have my praise; his remediesHave cured me of the evil sickness that I had.Besides, he was so good and kind to me.And many more can tell the selfsame tale.Third Countrywoman:Yet did a monk let slip the truth to me,—The devil’s remedies the Jew employs.Beware his drugs; transformed within the bloodThey grant an entrance to all kinds of sin.Fourth Countryman:The men who wait upon the knights opposeOur ancient customs, saying that the JewHath stores of knowledge both to heal and blessWhich will in days to come be rightly prized.Fifth Countryman:New times and better are in store; I seeTheir coming in my spirit, when my soulPictures to me what eyes cannot behold.The knights intend to bring all this about.Fourth Countrywoman:We owe the Church obedience, for she guardsOur souls from devil-visions, and from death,And from hell-fire. The monks bid us bewareThe knights, and their vile sorcerer, the Jew.Fifth Countrywoman:Only a short time longer need we bearIn patience the oppression of the knights.Soon will their citadel in ruins lie.Thus hath it been foretold me in a dream.Sixth Countrywoman:I fear such tales betoken mortal sin—That noble knights do plot to bring us harm—Nought do I see but good come from their hands;I needs must count them Christians, as ourselves.Sixth Countryman:What men shall think of them in days to come’Twere best to leave to be adjudged by thoseWho shall live after us. Mere tools are we,Used by the knights in their satanic artsTo war against true Christianity.If they be driven out we shall be freedFrom their pernicious sway, and live our livesAs we shall choose, in this our native land.Now let us go to vespers, there to findThat which our souls require, and that which isIn harmony with our ancestral ways.These novel teachings suit us not at all.(Exeunt the countryfolk.)(Simon, the Jew, enters from the wood.)Simon:Where’er I go, I find awaiting meThe ancient hatred and the bitter taunts.And yet I suffer not a whit the lessEach time I find myself exposed to them.There seems to be no reasonable causeWhy people should behave toward me thus.And yet one thought pursues me evermoreWhich makes the truth apparent to my soul,That nothing can befall us without cause.So too a reason there must be for this,That suffering is the lot of all my tribe.So with the lords of yonder citadel,I find their lot is near akin to mine.They have but chosen of their own free willThat which by nature is imposed on me.They set themselves apart from all mankind,And strive in isolation to acquireThe powers through which they may attain their goal.Thus can I feel the debt I owe to fateAnd find her blessing in my loneliness.Forced to rely on my own soul aloneI took the realms of science for my field.And recognized from what I learned thereinThat ripe for new attainments was our time.The laws of nature, hitherto unknown,Must now reveal themselves unto mankindAnd make him master of the world of senseWhence he will be allowed to liberatePowers he can put to use for his own ends.So have I tried, as far as in me lay,To make fresh progress in the healing art.This toil endeared me to the brotherhood.Its members made me free of their estatesTo seek to find the forces that resideIn plants and ’neath the surface of the ground,That they may yield for us new benefits.My actions therefore march with their designs,And I confess that I have plucked with joyMuch goodly fruit whilst going on my way.(Exit into the wood.)Thomas, the Master miner, enters from the wood. Enter the Monk.)Thomas:Here will I sit and rest a little while.My soul hath need of rest to find itselfAfter the shocks which I have had to bear.(The Monk comes up to him.)Monk:I greet thee heartily, most valiant son.Thou hast come here in search of solitude.Thy work well done, thou wouldst have peace and quietIn which to turn thy thoughts to spirit-worlds.To see my well-loved pupil thus employedRejoiceth me. But why so sad thine eyes?’Twould seem anxiety weighs down your soul.Thomas:Pain oft is neighbour unto highest bliss;That this is so my own life proves today.Monk:Hast thou then met with bliss and pain at once?Thomas:I told thee, reverend father, that I lovedThe mountain-warden’s daughter, and confessedThat she was also greatly drawn to me.She is to marry me and share my life.Monk:She will be true to thee, come weal, come woe;She is a faithful daughter of the Church.Thomas:Such an one only would I take to wife;Since, honoured master, I have learned from theeThe meaning of obedience to God’s will.Monk:And art thou also certain of thy soul,That it will walk still further in the wayOf righteousness, which I have pointed out?Thomas:So sure as in this body beats a heart,So sure will I, thy son, be true for ayeTo those exalted teachings which of oldFrom thine own lips I was allowed to learn.Monk:And now that thou hast told me of thy blissLet me hear also from thee of thy woe.Thomas:Oft have I told thee what my life hath been.Scarce had I left my childhood’s days behindThan I began to travel and to roam.I never worked for long in any place.Ever I cherished in my heart the wishTo meet my father, whom I loved, althoughI had not heard a good report of him.He left my dear good mother all aloneBecause he wished to start his life anewUnhampered by a wife and children twain.The impulse for adventure dwelt in him.I was a child still, when he went from us.My sister was a tiny new-born babe.My mother died of grief in no long time.My sister was adopted by good folkWho later moved away from my old home.And of her fate I never more heard tell.Some relatives assisted me to learnA miner’s work, in which I expert grew,So that I found employment where I wished.The hope that some day I should once more findMy father, never vanished from my heart.And now my hope at last is realizedBut also is for ever torn from me.Matters of business led me yesterdayTo seek for speech with my superior.Thou knowst how lightly I esteem the knightWho issueth the directions for my workSince I have learned thou art his enemy.From that time forward I made up my mindNot to remain in service under him.For reasons which remain unknown to meThe knight alluded in our interviewTo matters which allowed him to declareHimself to be—the father whom I sought.What followed … I would gladly leave untold.It would not have been hard to overlookMy mother’s sufferings at his hands, and mine,When he and I once more stood face to face,And when he spoke, grief-burdened, of old days.But in his form, stood facing me, thy foe.And one thing then was manifest to me:—How deep a gulf must ever separateMyself from him, whom I so fain would love,And whom I sought so long and ardently.Now have I lost him for the second time,Such is the lot that hath befallen me.Monk:I would not e’er estrange thee from those tiesImposed on thee by blood-relationship.But what I can bestow upon thy soulShall ever be to thee a gift of love.Curtain

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

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

First Countryman:

See yon vile Jew; he surely will not dare

To take the same road that we take ourselves;

For things might very well come to his ears

On hearing which they’d burn for many a day.

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

Second Countryman:

We must make clear to his effrontery,

Aye, very clear indeed, that we no more

Will tolerate his race in our good land

Across whose bounds he hath contrived to slink.

First Countrywoman:He is protected by the noble knightsWho live up in yon castle; none of usMay enter it; the Jew is welcome there.For he doth do whate’er the knights desire.

First Countrywoman:

He is protected by the noble knights

Who live up in yon castle; none of us

May enter it; the Jew is welcome there.

For he doth do whate’er the knights desire.

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

Third Countryman:

’Tis very hard to know who serves the Lord

And who the devil. Thankful should we be

To our good lords who give us food and work.

What should we be if it were not for them?

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

Second Countrywoman:

The Jew shall have my praise; his remedies

Have cured me of the evil sickness that I had.

Besides, he was so good and kind to me.

And many more can tell the selfsame tale.

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

Third Countrywoman:

Yet did a monk let slip the truth to me,—

The devil’s remedies the Jew employs.

Beware his drugs; transformed within the blood

They grant an entrance to all kinds of sin.

Fourth Countryman:The men who wait upon the knights opposeOur ancient customs, saying that the JewHath stores of knowledge both to heal and blessWhich will in days to come be rightly prized.

Fourth Countryman:

The men who wait upon the knights oppose

Our ancient customs, saying that the Jew

Hath stores of knowledge both to heal and bless

Which will in days to come be rightly prized.

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

Fifth Countryman:

New times and better are in store; I see

Their coming in my spirit, when my soul

Pictures to me what eyes cannot behold.

The knights intend to bring all this about.

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

Fourth Countrywoman:

We owe the Church obedience, for she guards

Our souls from devil-visions, and from death,

And from hell-fire. The monks bid us beware

The knights, and their vile sorcerer, the Jew.

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

Fifth Countrywoman:

Only a short time longer need we bear

In patience the oppression of the knights.

Soon will their citadel in ruins lie.

Thus hath it been foretold me in a dream.

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

Sixth Countrywoman:

I fear such tales betoken mortal sin—

That noble knights do plot to bring us harm—

Nought do I see but good come from their hands;

I needs must count them Christians, as ourselves.

Sixth Countryman:What men shall think of them in days to come’Twere best to leave to be adjudged by thoseWho shall live after us. Mere tools are we,Used by the knights in their satanic artsTo war against true Christianity.If they be driven out we shall be freedFrom their pernicious sway, and live our livesAs we shall choose, in this our native land.Now let us go to vespers, there to findThat which our souls require, and that which isIn harmony with our ancestral ways.These novel teachings suit us not at all.

Sixth Countryman:

What men shall think of them in days to come

’Twere best to leave to be adjudged by those

Who shall live after us. Mere tools are we,

Used by the knights in their satanic arts

To war against true Christianity.

If they be driven out we shall be freed

From their pernicious sway, and live our lives

As we shall choose, in this our native land.

Now let us go to vespers, there to find

That which our souls require, and that which is

In harmony with our ancestral ways.

These novel teachings suit us not at all.

(Exeunt the countryfolk.)

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

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

Simon:

Where’er I go, I find awaiting me

The ancient hatred and the bitter taunts.

And yet I suffer not a whit the less

Each time I find myself exposed to them.

There seems to be no reasonable cause

Why people should behave toward me thus.

And yet one thought pursues me evermore

Which makes the truth apparent to my soul,

That nothing can befall us without cause.

So too a reason there must be for this,

That suffering is the lot of all my tribe.

So with the lords of yonder citadel,

I find their lot is near akin to mine.

They have but chosen of their own free will

That which by nature is imposed on me.

They set themselves apart from all mankind,

And strive in isolation to acquire

The powers through which they may attain their goal.

Thus can I feel the debt I owe to fate

And find her blessing in my loneliness.

Forced to rely on my own soul alone

I took the realms of science for my field.

And recognized from what I learned therein

That ripe for new attainments was our time.

The laws of nature, hitherto unknown,

Must now reveal themselves unto mankind

And make him master of the world of sense

Whence he will be allowed to liberate

Powers he can put to use for his own ends.

So have I tried, as far as in me lay,

To make fresh progress in the healing art.

This toil endeared me to the brotherhood.

Its members made me free of their estates

To seek to find the forces that reside

In plants and ’neath the surface of the ground,

That they may yield for us new benefits.

My actions therefore march with their designs,

And I confess that I have plucked with joy

Much goodly fruit whilst going on my way.

(Exit into the wood.)

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

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

Thomas:

Here will I sit and rest a little while.

My soul hath need of rest to find itself

After the shocks which I have had to bear.

(The Monk comes up to him.)

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

Monk:

I greet thee heartily, most valiant son.

Thou hast come here in search of solitude.

Thy work well done, thou wouldst have peace and quiet

In which to turn thy thoughts to spirit-worlds.

To see my well-loved pupil thus employed

Rejoiceth me. But why so sad thine eyes?

’Twould seem anxiety weighs down your soul.

Thomas:Pain oft is neighbour unto highest bliss;That this is so my own life proves today.

Thomas:

Pain oft is neighbour unto highest bliss;

That this is so my own life proves today.

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

Monk:

Hast thou then met with bliss and pain at once?

Thomas:I told thee, reverend father, that I lovedThe mountain-warden’s daughter, and confessedThat she was also greatly drawn to me.She is to marry me and share my life.

Thomas:

I told thee, reverend father, that I loved

The mountain-warden’s daughter, and confessed

That she was also greatly drawn to me.

She is to marry me and share my life.

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

Monk:

She will be true to thee, come weal, come woe;

She is a faithful daughter of the Church.

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

Thomas:

Such an one only would I take to wife;

Since, honoured master, I have learned from thee

The meaning of obedience to God’s will.

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

Monk:

And art thou also certain of thy soul,

That it will walk still further in the way

Of righteousness, which I have pointed out?

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

Thomas:

So sure as in this body beats a heart,

So sure will I, thy son, be true for aye

To those exalted teachings which of old

From thine own lips I was allowed to learn.

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

Monk:

And now that thou hast told me of thy bliss

Let me hear also from thee of thy woe.

Thomas:Oft have I told thee what my life hath been.Scarce had I left my childhood’s days behindThan I began to travel and to roam.I never worked for long in any place.Ever I cherished in my heart the wishTo meet my father, whom I loved, althoughI had not heard a good report of him.He left my dear good mother all aloneBecause he wished to start his life anewUnhampered by a wife and children twain.The impulse for adventure dwelt in him.I was a child still, when he went from us.My sister was a tiny new-born babe.My mother died of grief in no long time.My sister was adopted by good folkWho later moved away from my old home.And of her fate I never more heard tell.Some relatives assisted me to learnA miner’s work, in which I expert grew,So that I found employment where I wished.The hope that some day I should once more findMy father, never vanished from my heart.And now my hope at last is realizedBut also is for ever torn from me.Matters of business led me yesterdayTo seek for speech with my superior.Thou knowst how lightly I esteem the knightWho issueth the directions for my workSince I have learned thou art his enemy.From that time forward I made up my mindNot to remain in service under him.For reasons which remain unknown to meThe knight alluded in our interviewTo matters which allowed him to declareHimself to be—the father whom I sought.What followed … I would gladly leave untold.It would not have been hard to overlookMy mother’s sufferings at his hands, and mine,When he and I once more stood face to face,And when he spoke, grief-burdened, of old days.But in his form, stood facing me, thy foe.And one thing then was manifest to me:—How deep a gulf must ever separateMyself from him, whom I so fain would love,And whom I sought so long and ardently.Now have I lost him for the second time,Such is the lot that hath befallen me.

Thomas:

Oft have I told thee what my life hath been.

Scarce had I left my childhood’s days behind

Than I began to travel and to roam.

I never worked for long in any place.

Ever I cherished in my heart the wish

To meet my father, whom I loved, although

I had not heard a good report of him.

He left my dear good mother all alone

Because he wished to start his life anew

Unhampered by a wife and children twain.

The impulse for adventure dwelt in him.

I was a child still, when he went from us.

My sister was a tiny new-born babe.

My mother died of grief in no long time.

My sister was adopted by good folk

Who later moved away from my old home.

And of her fate I never more heard tell.

Some relatives assisted me to learn

A miner’s work, in which I expert grew,

So that I found employment where I wished.

The hope that some day I should once more find

My father, never vanished from my heart.

And now my hope at last is realized

But also is for ever torn from me.

Matters of business led me yesterday

To seek for speech with my superior.

Thou knowst how lightly I esteem the knight

Who issueth the directions for my work

Since I have learned thou art his enemy.

From that time forward I made up my mind

Not to remain in service under him.

For reasons which remain unknown to me

The knight alluded in our interview

To matters which allowed him to declare

Himself to be—the father whom I sought.

What followed … I would gladly leave untold.

It would not have been hard to overlook

My mother’s sufferings at his hands, and mine,

When he and I once more stood face to face,

And when he spoke, grief-burdened, of old days.

But in his form, stood facing me, thy foe.

And one thing then was manifest to me:—

How deep a gulf must ever separate

Myself from him, whom I so fain would love,

And whom I sought so long and ardently.

Now have I lost him for the second time,

Such is the lot that hath befallen me.

Monk:I would not e’er estrange thee from those tiesImposed on thee by blood-relationship.But what I can bestow upon thy soulShall ever be to thee a gift of love.

Monk:

I would not e’er estrange thee from those ties

Imposed on thee by blood-relationship.

But what I can bestow upon thy soul

Shall ever be to thee a gift of love.

Curtain

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