Maria:

I bring to thee this child who needs some word

From out thy mouth.

Benedictus:

From out thy mouth. My child, henceforth each eve

Thou shalt come unto me to hear the word

That shall fill full thy soul ere thou dost tread

The realm of souls in sleep. Wilt thou do this?

Child:

Most gladly will I come.

Benedictus:

Most gladly will I come. This very eve

Fill thy soul full ere sleep embraceth thee,

With strength from these few words: ‘The powers of light

Bear me aloft unto the spirit’s home.’

Maria:

And now, that this child’s destiny doth flow

Harmoniously through future days beneath

The shadow of thy gracious fatherhood,

I too may claim my leader’s kind advice,

Who am its mother, not by bond of blood

But through the mighty power of destiny.

For thou hast shown to me the way wherein

I had to guide its footsteps from that day,

When I discovered it before my door

Left by its unknown mother desolate.

And wonder-working proved themselves those rules

Whereby thou madest me train my foster-child.

All powers, that deep in body and in soul

Lay hidden, issued forth to light and life:

Clear proof it was that all thy counselling

Sprang from the realm which sheltered this child’s soul

Before it built its body’s covering.

We saw the hopes of manhood blossom forth

And radiate more brightly each new day;

Thou dost know well how hard it was for me

To gain the child’s affection, at the first.

It grew up ’neath my care, and yet nought else

Save habit chained its soul at first to mine.

It only realized and felt that I

Gave it the nurture and the food that served

The needs of body and the growth of soul.

Then came the time when in the child-like heart

There dawned the love for her who fostered it.

An outer incident brought forth this change—

The visit of the seeress to our group.

Gladly the child did go about with her

And soon did learn full many a beauteous word

Steeped in the mystic charm that graced her speech.

Then came the moment when her ecstasy

Descended on our friend with magic power.

The child could see her eyes’ strange smouldering light,

And, terrified unto its vital core,

The young soul dawned to consciousness of self.

In her dismay she fled unto mine arms;

And from that hour did grow her love for me.

Since that same time she doth accept from me

The gifts of life with her full consciousness

Not with blind instinct: aye, and since that day

When this young heart first quivered into warmth,

Whene’er her gaze met mine with loving glance,

Thy wisdom’s treasures of their fruitage failed,

And much already ripe hath withered up.

I saw appear in her those tokens strange

That proved so terrible unto my friend.

A dark enigma am I to myself,

And grow still darker. Thou wilt not deny

To solve for me life’s fearful questionings?

Why do I thus destroy both friend and child,

When I in love approach my work with them

To give them knowledge of that spirit-lore

Which in my soul I know to be the good?

Oft hast thou taught me this exalted truth—

‘Illusion’s veil o’erspreads life’s surfaces’—

Yet must I see with greater clarity

Why I must bear this heavy destiny,

That seems so cruel and which works such harm.

Benedictus:

Within our circle there is formed a knot

Of threads that Karma spins world-fashioning.

Thy sufferings, my friend are links in chains,

Forged by the hand of destiny, whereby

The deeds of gods unite with human lives.—

When in life’s pilgrimage I had attained

That rank which granted me the dignity

To serve with counsel in the spirit-spheres,

A godlike Being did draw nigh to me,

Who would descend into the realms of earth,

And dwell there, veiled in form of flesh, as man.

For just at this one turning-point of time

The Karma of mankind made this demand.

For each great step in world-development

Is only possible when gods do stoop

To link themselves with human destiny.

And this new spirit-sight that needs must grow

And germinate henceforth in souls of men

Can only be unfolded when a god

Doth plant the seed within some human heart.

My task it was to find that human soul

Which worthy seemed to take within itself

The powerful Seed of God. I had to join

The deed of heaven to some human lot.

My spirit’s eye then sought, and fell on thee.

Thy course of life had fitted thee to be

The mediator in salvation’s work.

Through many former lives thou hadst acquired

Receptiveness for all the greatest things

That human hearts can e’er experience.

Within thy tender soul thou didst bring forth,

As spirit heritage, the noble gift

Of beauty, joined to virtue’s loftiest claim:

And that which thine eternal Self had formed

And brought to being through thy birth on earth

Did reach ripe fruitage when thy years were few.—

Too soon thou didst not scale steep spirit-heights;

Nor grew thy yearning for the spirit-land

Before thou hadst the full enjoyment known

Of harmless pleasures in the world of sense.

Anger and love thy soul did learn to know

When thy thoughts dwelt yet far from spirit-life.

Nature in all her beauty to enjoy,

And pluck the fruits of art,—these didst thou strive

To make thy life’s sole content and its wealth.

Merry thy laughter, as a child can laugh

Who hath not known as yet life’s shadowed fears.

And thus thou learn’dst to understand life’s joy,

And mourn its sadness, each in its own time,

Before thy dawning conscience grew to seek

Of sorrow and of happiness the cause.

A ripened fruit of many lives that soul,

That enters earth’s domains, and shows such moods.

Its childlike nature is the blossoming

And not the ground-root of its character.

And such a soul alone was I to choose

As mediator for the God, who sought

The power to work within our human world.

And now thou learnest that thy nature must

Transform itself into its opposite,

When it flows forth to other human souls.

The spirit in thee ripens whatsoe’er

In human nature can attain the realm

Of vast eternity; and much it slays

That is but part of transitory realms.

And yet the sacrifices of such deaths

Are but the seeds of immortality,

All that which blossoms forth from death below

Must grow unto the higher life above.

Maria:

E’en so it is with me. Thou giv’st me light:

But light that doth deprive me of my sight,

And sunder me from mine own self in twain.

Then do I seem some spirit’s instrument

No longer master of myself. No more

Do I endure that erstwhile form of mine

Which only is a mask and not the truth.

Johannes:

O friend, what ails thee? Vanished is the light

That filled thine eye: as marble is thy frame.

I grasp thine hand and find it cold as death.

Benedictus:

My son, full many trials have come to thee;

And now thou stand’st before life’s hardest test.

Thou seest the carnal covering of thy friend;

But her true self doth float in spirit-spheres

Before mine eyes.

Johannes:

Before mine eyes. See! Her lips move; she speaks.

Maria:

Thou gav’st me clearness; yet this clearness throws

A veil of darkness round on every side.

I curse thy clearness; and I curse thee too,

Who didst make tool of me for weird wild arts

Whereby thou willedst to deceive mankind.

No doubt at any moment hitherto

Had crossed my mind of heights thy spirit reached;

But now one single moment doth suffice

To tear all faith in thee from out my heart.

Those spirit-beings thou art subject to,

I now must recognize as hellish fiends.

Others I had to mislead and deceive

Because at first I was deceived by thee.—

But I will flee unto dim distances,

Where not a sound of thee shall reach mine ears;

Yet near enough that thy soul may be reached

By bitter curses framed by these my lips.

For thou didst rob my blood of all its fire,

That thou mightst sacrifice to thy false god

That which was rightly mine and mine alone.

But now this same blood’s fire shall thee consume.

Thou madest me trust in vain imaginings;

And that this might be so, thou first didst make

A pictured falsehood of my very self.

Often had I to mark how in my soul

Each deed and thought turned to its opposite;

So now doth turn what once was love for thee,

Into the fire of wild and bitter hate.

Through all worlds will I seek to find that fire

Which can consume thee. See—I cur—Ah—woe!

Johannes:

Who speaketh here? I do not see my friend.

I hear instead some gruesome being speak.

Benedictus:

Thy friend’s soul hovers in the heights above.

Only her mortal image hath she left

Here with us: and where’er a human form

Is found bereft of soul, there is the room

Sought by the enemy, the foe of good,

To enter into realms perceptible,

And find some carnal form through which to speak.

Just such an adversary spake e’en now,

Who would destroy the work imposed on me

For thee, my son, and millions yet unborn.

Were I to deem these wild anathemas,

Which our friend’s shell did utter here and now,

Aught else but some grim tempter’s cunning skill,

Thou durst not follow more my leadership.

The enemy of Good stood by my side,

And thou hast seen into the darkness plunged

All that is temporal of that dear form,

For whom, my son, thy whole love burns and glows.

Since through her mouth spirits spake oft to thee,

The Karma of the world could not restrain

Hell’s princes also speaking thus through her.

First now thou mayst seek her very soul

And learn her nature’s inmost verity;

For she shall form for thee the prototype

Of that new higher type of humankind

To which thou dost aspire to raise thyself.

Her soul hath soared aloft to spirit-heights,

Where every man may find his being’s source

Which springs to life and fulness in himself.

Thou too shalt follow her to spirit-realms,

And see her in the Temple of the Sun.—

Within this circle there is formed a knot

Of threads which Karma spins, world fashioning.

My son, since thou hast now attained thus far,

Thou shalt still further pierce beyond the veil.

I see thy star in fullest splendour shine.

There is no place within the realm of sense

For strife, such as men wage when they do strive

And struggle after consecration’s gift.

The riddles which arise in worlds of sense

Must find solution through man’s intellect;

From all that sense engenders in man’s heart

Whether of love or hate, whate’er its source

And howsoever direful its results,

The spirit-seeker needs must stand aloof,

Whence he may cast his glance all undisturbed

Upon the fields where such contentions rage.

For him must other powers unfold themselves

Which are not found upon that field of strife.

So didst thou need to fight to prove thy soul

In combat such as comes to him alone,

Who finds himself accoutred for such powers

As do belong unto the spirit-worlds.

And had these powers found thee not ripe enough

To tread the path of knowledge, they needs must

Have maimed thy powers of feeling, ere thou daredst

To know all that which now is known to thee.

The Beings, who can gaze into world-depths,

Lead on those men, who would attain the heights,

First to that summit whence it may be shown

Whether there lies in them the power to reach

To conscious sight within the spirit-realms.

And those in whom such powers are found to lie

Are straightway from the world of sense set free.

The others all must wait their season due.

But thou, thou hast preserved thy Self, my son,

When Powers on high stirred to its depths thy soul.

And potent spirits shrouded thee with fear.

Right powerfully thy Self hath fought its way

E’en though thy very heart was torn by doubts,

That willed to thrust thee into darksome depths.

True pupil of my teaching hast thou been,

First since that hour, so fraught with fate for thee,

When thou didst learn to doubt thy very self,

And gavest up thyself as wholly lost,

But yet the strength within thee held thee fast.

Then might I give thee of my treasured store

Of wisdom, whence to draw the strength to stand

Assured, e’en when mistrusting thine own self.

Such was the wisdom which thou didst attain

More steadfast than the faith once given to thee.

Ripe wast thou found, and thou may’st be set free.

Thy friend hath gone before and waits for thee

In spirit-worlds, and thou shalt find her there.

I can but add this guidance for thee now:

Kindle the full power of thy soul with words

Which through my lips shall grant to thee the key

To spirit-heights, and they will lead thee on

When naught else leads, that eyes of sense can see.

Receive them in the fulness of thy heart:

‘The weaving essence of the light streams forth

Through depths of space to fill the world with light;

Love’s grace doth warm the centuries of time

To call forth revelation of all worlds.

And spirit-messengers come forth to wed

The weaving essence of creative light

With revelation of the souls of men:

And that man, who can wed to both of these

His very Self, he lives in spirit-heights.’

O spirits, who are visible to man,

Quicken with life the soul of this our son:

From inmost depths may there stream forth for him

That which can fill his soul with spirit-light.

From inmost depths may there resound for him

That which can wholly wake in him his Self

To the creative joy of spirit-life.

A Spirit-Voice behind the stage:

To founts of worlds primeval

His surging thoughts do mount;—

What as shadow he hath thought

What as fancy he hath lived

Soars up beyond the world of form and shape;

On whose fulness pondering

Mankind in shadow dreams,

O’er whose fulness gazing forth

Mankind in fancy lives.

Lucifer:

O man, know thou thyself; O man, feel me.

From spirit guidance, thou hast freed thyself,

And into earth’s free realms thou hast escaped.

Midst earth’s confusion thou didst seek to prove

Thine own existence; and to find thyself

Was thy reward, and was thy destiny.

Me didst thou find: for certain spirits willed

To cast a veil before the eyes of sense;

Which veil I rent in twain. Those spirits willed

To follow out their own desires in thee;

But I gave thee self-will and foiled their aim.

O man, know thou thyself; O man, feel me.

Ahriman:

O man, know me; O man, feel thou thyself.

Thou hast escaped from darkened spirit-realms

And thou hast found again the earth’s pure light,

So now from my sure ground drink strength and truth.

I make earth hard and fast. The spirits willed

To snatch away from thee the charm of sense;

Which charm I weave for thee in light condensed.

I lead thee unto true reality.

O man, know me; O man, feel thou thyself.

Lucifer:

Time was not when thou didst not live through me.

I followed thee throughout the course of life,

And was permitted to bestow on thee

Strong personal traits and joy in thine own self.

Ahriman:

Time was not when thou didst not me behold.

Thy mortal eyes saw me in all earth’s growth;

I was permitted to shine forth for thee

In beauty proud and revelation’s bliss.

Johannes (to himself in meditation):

This is the sign as Benedictus told.

Before the world of souls stand these two powers:

The one, as Tempter, lives within the soul;

The other doth obscure the sight of man

When he directeth it to outward things.

The one took on the woman’s form e’en now,

To bring the soul’s illusions ’neath my gaze;

The other may be found in everything.

Spirit:

So have ye reached the spot ye longed to find.

It proved indeed a heavy care to me,

To grant your wish. Spirits and elements

Did rage in mad wild storm when their domain

I had to enter with your essences.

Your minds opposed the ruling of my powers.

Capesius:

Mysterious Being, who art thou, who hast

Brought me to this fair realm through spirit-spheres?

Spirit:

The soul of man may only look on me,

Whene’er the service which I render it

Hath been achieved. Then may it trace my powers

Through all the moving sequences of time.

Capesius:

It matters little to me to enquire

What spirit led me hither to this place.

I feel life’s powers revive in this new land,

Whose light doth seem to widen mine own breast;

In my pulse-beat I feel the whole world’s might;

And premonitions of exalted deeds

Thrill in my heart. I will translate in words

The revelation of this beauteous realm,

That hath refreshed me in such wondrous wise;

And souls of men shall bloom, as choicest flowers

If I can pour into their life on earth

The inspiration flowing from these founts.

Strader:

Why quake the depths, and why resound the heights?

When hope’s young dreams surge upward in the soul?

Spirit:

To human dreamers words of hope like these

Sound proud indeed; but in the depths of earth

The vain illusions of mistaken thought

Awake such thunderous echoes evermore.

Ye mortals hear them only at those times

When ye draw nigh to my domain. Ye think

To build exalted temples unto Truth,

And yet your work’s effects do but unchain

Storm-spirits in primeval depths of earth.

Nay more, the spirits must destroy whole worlds,

That deeds ye do in realms where time hath sway

May not cause devastation and cold death

Through all the ages of eternity.

Strader:

So these eternal ages must regard

As empty fantasy what seems the truth

To man’s best observation and research.

Spirit:

An empty fantasy, so long as sense

Doth only search in realms to spirit strange.

Strader:

Thou may’st well call a dreamer that friend’s soul

Which in the joy of youth its goal doth set

With such a noble strength and high desire;

But in mine aged heart thy words fall dead

Despite their summoned aid of thunderous storms.

I tore myself from cloistered quietude

To proud achievement in my search for truth.

In life’s storm-centres many a year I stood,

And men had confidence in me, and what

I taught them through my deep strong sense for truth.

Spirit:

’Tis fitting for thee to confess that none

Can tell whence stream the fountains of our thought,

Nor where the fundaments of Being lie.

Strader:

Oh this same speech, which in youth’s hopeful days

So oft with chill persistence pierced my soul

When thought-foundations quaked, which once seemed firm!

Spirit:

If thou dost fail to gain the victory

O’er me with those blunt weapons of thy thought

Thou art a fleeting phantom, nothing more,

Formed by thine own deluded imagery.

Strader:

So soon again such gruesome speech from thee!

This too I heard before in mine own soul,

When once a seeress threateningly did wish

To wreck the firm foundations of my thought

And make me feel the sharp dread sting of doubt.

But that is past, and I defy thy might,

Thou aged rogue, so cunningly concealed

Beneath a mask devised by thine own self

To counterfeit the form of nature’s lord.

Reason will overthrow thee, otherwise

Than thou dost think, when once she is enthroned

Upon the proud heights of the mind of man.

As mistress will she reign assuredly

Not as some handmaiden in nature’s realm.

Spirit:

The world is ordered so, that every act

Requires a like reaction: unto you

I gave the self; ye owe me my reward.

Capesius:

I will myself create from mine own soul

The spirit counterpart of things of sense.

And when at length all nature stands transformed,

Idealized through man’s creative work,

Her mirrored form shall be reward enough;

And then if thou dost feel thyself akin

To that great mother of all worlds, and spring’st

From depths where world-creating forces reign.

Then let my will, which lives in head and breast,

Inspiring me to aim at highest goals,

Be thy reward for deeds done at my best.

Thy help hath raised me from dull sentiment

To thought’s proud heights—Let this be thy reward!

Spirit:

Ye well can see, how little your bold words

Bear weight in my domain: they do but loose

The storm, and rouse the elements to wrath,

Fierce adversaries of the ordered world.

Capesius:

Take then thine own reward where’t may be found.

The impulse that doth drive the souls of men

To seek true spirit-heights within themselves

Set their own measure, their own order make.

Creation were not possible for man

If others wished to claim what he had made.

The song that trills from out the linnet’s throat

Sufficeth for itself; and so doth man

Find his reward, when in his fashioning work

He doth experience creative joy.

Spirit:

It is not meet to grudge me my reward.

If ye yourselves cannot repay the debt

Then tell the woman, who endowed your souls

With power, that she must pay instead of you.

Capesius:

He hath departed. Whither turn we now?

To find our way aright in these new worlds

Must be, it seems, the first care of our minds.

Strader:

To follow confidently the best way,

That we can find, with sure but cautious tread,

Methinks should lead us straightway to the goal.

Capesius:

Rather should we be silent as to goal.

That we shall find if we courageously

Obey the impulse of our inner self,

Which speaks thus to me: ‘Let Truth be thy guide;

May it unfold strong powers within thyself

And mould them with the noblest fashioning

In all that thou shalt do; then must thy steps

Attain their destined goal, nor go astray.’

Strader:

Yet from the outset it were best our steps

Should not lack consciousness of their true goal,

If we would be of service unto men

And give them happiness. He, who would serve

Himself alone, doth follow his own heart;

But he, who wills to serve his neighbour best,

Must surely know his life’s necessities.

But see! What wondrous being’s this? It seems

As though the rock itself did give it birth.

From what world-depths do such strange forms arise?

The Other Maria:

I wrest my way through solid rock, and fain

Would clothe in human speech its very will;

I sense earth’s essence and with human brains

I fain would think the thoughts of Earth herself.

I breathe the purest airs of life, and shape

The powers of air to feel as doth mankind.

Strader:

Then thou canst not assist us in our quest.

For far aloft from men’s endeavour stands

All that which must abide in nature’s realm.

Capesius:

Lady, I like thy words, and I would fain

Translate thy form of speech into mine own.

The Other Maria:

Most strange doth seem to me your proud discourse.

For, when ye speak yourselves, unto mine ear

Your words do sound incomprehensible.

But if I let them echo in my heart

And issue in new form, they spread abroad

O’er all that lives in mine environment

And solve for me its hidden mystery.

Capesius:

If this, thy speech, be true, then change for us

Into thy speech, that nature may respond,

The question of the true worth of our lives.

For we ourselves lack power to question thus

Great mother nature that we may be heard.

The Other Maria:

In me ye only see an humble maid

Of that high spirit-being, which doth dwell

In that domain whence ye have just now come.

There hath been given me this field of work

That here in lowliness I may show forth

Her mirrored image unto mortal sense.

Capesius:

So then we have just fled from that domain

Wherein our longing could have been assuaged?

The Other Maria:

And if ye do not find again the way,

Your efforts shall be fruitless evermore.

Capesius:

Then tell which way will lead us back again.

The Other Maria:

There are two ways. If my power doth attain

To its full height all creatures of my realm

Shall glow in beauty’s most resplendent dress.

From rocks and water, glittering light shall stream,

And colours in their richest fulness flash

On all around, whilst life in merry mood

Shall fill the air with joyous harmony.

And if your souls do then but steep themselves

In mine own being’s purest ecstasy

On spirit pinions shall ye wing your way

Unto primeval origins of worlds.

Strader:

That is no way for us; for in our speech

We name such talk mere fancy, and we fain

Would seek firm ground, not fly to cloud-capped heights.

The Other Maria:

Then if ye wish to tread the other path

Ye must forthwith renounce your spirit’s pride.

Ye must forget what reason doth command,

And let the touch of nature conquer you.

In your men’s breasts let your child-soul have sway,

Artless and undisturbed by thought’s dim shades.

So will ye surely reach Life’s fountain-head,

Although unconscious of the way ye go.

Capesius:

Thus are we thrown back on ourselves alone,

And have but learned that it behoveth us

To work and wait in patience for the fruit

That future days shall ripen from our work.

Johannes (speaking, as it were, from his meditation. Here and in the following scene he sits aside and takes no part in the action):

So do I find within the soul’s domain

Those men who are already known to me:

First he who told us of Felicia’s tales,

Though here I saw him in his youthful prime;

And also he who in his younger days

Had chosen for his life monastic rule,

As some old man did he appear: with them

There stood the Spirit of the Elements.

Felicia:

Thou calledst me. What wouldst thou hear of me?

Spirit:

Two men did I present unto the earth

Whose spirit-powers were fructified through thee.

They found their soul’s awakening in thy words

When meditation dry had lamed them both.

Thy gifts to them make thee my debtor too.

Their spirit doth not of itself suffice

To render full repayment unto me

For all the service which I did for them.

Felicia:

For many years one of these men did come

To our small cottage, that he might obtain

The strength that lent unto his words their fire.

Later he brought the other with him too;

And so they two consumed the fruits, whose worth

Was then unknown to me: but little good

Did I receive from them as recompense.

Their kind of knowledge to our son they gave,

With good intent indeed, but yet the child

Found nought therein but death unto his soul.

He grew to manhood steeped in all the light,

His father Felix, through the spirit-speech,

Taught him from fountains and from rocks and hills:

To this was joined all that had lived and grown

In my own soul from my first childhood’s years;

And yet our son’s clear spirit-sense was killed

By the deep gloom of sombre sciences.

Instead of some blithe happy child, there grew

A man of desert soul and empty heart.

And now forsooth thou dost demand of me

That I should pay what they do owe to thee!

Spirit:

It must be so, for thou at first didst serve

The earthly part in them; and so through me

The spirit bids thee now complete the work.

Felicia:

’Tis not my wont to shrink from any debt;

But tell me first what detriment will grow

In mine own self from this love-service done?

Spirit:

What thou at first didst do for them on earth,

Robbed of his spirit-powers thine only son;

And what thou givest to their spirits now

Is lost henceforth to thee from thine own self;

Which lessening of the powers of life in thee

Will show as ugliness in thine own flesh.

Felicia:

They robbed my child of all his spirit-power,

And in return I needs must wander forth

A monster in the sight of men, that fruits

May ripen for them, which work little good!

Spirit:

Yet thy work aids the welfare of mankind

And leads as well to thine own happiness.

Thy mother’s beauty and thy child’s own life

Will blossom for thee in a loftier way,

When one day in the souls and hearts of men,

New spirit-powers shall seed and fructify.

Felicia:

What must I do?

Spirit:

What must I do? Mankind thou hast inspired

Full often with thy words. Inspire then now

The spirits of the rocks: in this same hour

Thou must bring forth from out thy treasured store

Of fairy pictures some one tale to give

Those beings who do serve me in my work.

Felicia:

So be it then:—A being once did live

Who flew from East to West, as runs the sun.

He flew o’er lands and seas, and from this height

He looked upon the doings of mankind.

He saw how men did one another love,

And, how in hatred they did persecute.

Yet naught could stay this being in his flight,

For love and hatred none the less bring forth

Full many thousand times the same results.

Yet o’er one house—there must the being stay;

For therein dwelt a tired and weary man,

Who pondered on the love of humankind,

And pondered also over human hate.

His contemplations had already graved

Deep furrows on his brow; his hair was white.

And, grieving o’er this man, the being lost

His sun-guide’s leadership, and stayed with him

Within his room e’en when the sun went down.

And when the sun arose again, once more

The being joined the spirit of the sun;

And once again he saw mankind pass through

The cycle of the earth in love and hate.

But when he came, still following the sun,

A second time above that selfsame house,

His gaze did fall upon a man quite dead.

Germanus:

A man once lived, who went from East to West:

Whose eager thirst for knowledge lured him on

O’er land and sea; and with his wisdom’s sight

He looked upon the doings of mankind.

He saw how men did one another love,

And, how in hatred they did persecute;

And at each turn of life the man did note

How blind was wisdom’s eye to probe its depths.

For, though the world is ruled by love and hate,

Yet could he not combine them into law.

A thousand single cases wrote he down

Yet still he lacked the comprehending eye.

This dull, dry seeker after truth once met

Upon his path a being formed of light;

Who found existence fraught with heaviness

Since it must live in constant combat with

A darksome being formed of shadows black.

‘Who art thou then?’ the dry truth-seeker asked.

‘Love,’ said the one; the other answered, ‘Hate.’

But these two beings’ words fell on deaf ears;

The man heard not, but wandered blindly on

In his dry search for truth from East to West.

Felicia:

And who art thou, who thus against my wish

Dost parody my words in his own way

Until they sound a very mockery?

Germanus:

Only a dwarf-like image of me lives

In man, and therein many things are thought,

That are but mockery of their own selves.

When I do show them in the actual size,

In which they do appear within my brain.

Felicia:

And therefore dost thou also mock at me?

Germanus:

I must right often ply this trade of mine;

Yet mostly men do hear me not, so now

I seized for once this opportunity

To speak as well where men can hear my words.

Johannes (out of his meditation):

This was the man, who of himself did say

That spirit-light grew of its own accord

Within his brain; and Dame Felicia came,

Just like her husband, as she is in life.

Maria:

Ye sisters, who so often proved of old

My helpers, help me also in this hour;

That I may cause to vibrate in itself

The ether of the worlds. Let it resound

In harmony, and thus resounding reach

And permeate a soul with knowledge true.

Signs can I see which guide us to our work;

For your work must unite itself with mine.

Johannes, he who strives, by our designs

To real existence shall be lifted up.

The brethren in the temple counsel took

How they should guide him to the heights of light

Out of the depths, and they expect of us

To fill his soul with power for such high flight.

Thou shalt absorb for me, my Philia,

The light’s clear essence from the breadths of space;

And fill thyself with all the charm of sound,

Which wells from out the soul’s creative power;

That thou mayst then impart to me the gifts

Which thou dost gather from the spirit’s depths.

Then can I weave their perfect harmonies

In the soul-stirring rhythmic dance of spheres.

Thou, Astrid, too, loved mirror of my soul,

Thou shalt produce within the flowing light,

The power of shade that colours may shine forth;

Thou shalt give shape to formless harmonies,

That as world-substance weaveth to and fro

It may sound forth upon its living way.

So am I able to entrust to man,

When he doth seek, a spirit-consciousness.

And thou, strong Luna, firm in thine own self,

E’en like the living marrow, which doth grow

Within the centre of the tree, do thou

Unite unto thy sisters’ gifts thine own;

Impress thereon thy personality,

That he who seeks may wisdom’s surety find.

Philia:

With clearest essence of the light will I

From world-wide breadths of space myself imbue;

From distant ether-bounds will I breathe deep

Living sound-substance that such things may cause

Thy work, beloved sister, to succeed.

Astrid:

I will weave through the beaming web of light

Subduing darkness, and I will condense

The living sounds, that, sounding, they may glow,

And glowing, sound; that thou mayst thus direct,

Beloved sister, soul-life’s radiant beam.

Luna:

Soul-substance will I warm; and will make hard

The living ether; that they may condense,

And feel themselves as living entities

With active power to fashion their own life;

That thou, beloved sister, mayst create

True wisdom’s surety in man’s seeking soul.

Maria:

From Philia’s realm shall stream forth conscious joy;

And water nymphs with their transforming power

Shall then unfold receptiveness of soul;

That the awakened one may undergo

And live the mirth and sorrow of the world.

From Astrid’s web shall grow the joy of love;

And sylphs, that live in air, shall then incite

The soul’s desire to willing sacrifice;

That thus the consecrated one may give

New life to sorrow-laden souls of men,

And comfort those who crave for happiness.

From Luna’s power shall stream forth solid strength;

And salamanders with their fiery breath

Shall then create security of soul;

That he who knows may find himself again

In weaving soul-streams and the life of worlds.

Philia:

I shall implore the spirits of the world

That their own being’s light may so enchant

The senses of the soul; and their words’ sound

So fill with happiness the spirit ears;

That he, whose wakening nears, may thus ascend

The path of souls unto celestial heights.

Astrid:

The streams of love, which warm the worlds, will I

Direct unto his consecrated heart;

That he may bring into his work on earth

The grace of heaven, and create desire

For consecration in the hearts of men.

Luna:

From earth’s primeval powers will I implore

Courage and strength, that may lay them deep

Within the seeker’s heart; that confidence

In his own Self may guide him through his life.

Then shall he feel secure in his own soul

And pluck each moment’s ripened fruit, and draw

The seeds therefrom to found eternities.

Maria:

With you, my sisters, joined in noble work

I shall succeed in what I long to do.

But hark! There rises to our world of light

The cry of him who hath been sorely tried.

Johannes:

’Tis thou, Maria! Then my suffering

Hath at the last born richest fruit for me.

It hath withdrawn me from the phantom shape

Which I at first did make out of myself,

And which then held me fast, a prisoner.

Pain do I thank for thus enabling me

To reach thee o’er the pathways of the soul.

Maria:

And what then was the path that led thee here?

Johannes:

I felt myself from bonds of sense released:

My sight was freed from that close barrier,

Which hid all but the present from mine eyes.

Quite otherwise I viewed the life of one

I knew on earth, and looked beyond the space

Bound by the present moment’s narrow ring.

Capesius, who in his older years

Hath but employed the sight of sense—this man

The spirit placed before my soul a youth,

As first he entered on life’s thorny path

Full of those dreams of hope, which ofttimes brought

A group of faithful hearers to his feet.

And Strader, also could I see e’en thus

As he appeared in earthly life when young,

E’er he had full outgrown his cloistered youth:

And I could see what he might once have been,

If he had followed out in that same way

The goal he set before himself of old.

And only those who in their earthly life

Are filled already with the spirit’s power

Appear unchanged within the spirit-realms.

Both Dame Felicia and good Felix too

Had kept the forms in which they lived on earth,

When I beheld them with my spirit’s sight.

And then my guides showed kindness unto me,

And spake of gifts which shall one day be mine

When I can reach to wisdom’s lofty heights.

And many things besides have I beheld

With spirit-organs which sense-sight at first

Had shown to me in its own narrow way.

For judgment’s all-illuminating light

Irradiated this new world of mine.

But whether I lived in some shadowy dream,

Or whether spirit-truth surrounded me

Already, I could not as yet decide.

Whether my spirit-sight was really stirred

By other things, or whether mine own self

Expanded into some world of its own,

I knew not. Then didst thou appear thyself;

Not as thou seemest at the present time,

Nor as the past beheld thee; nay—I saw

Thee as thou art in spirit evermore.

Not human was thy nature: in thy soul

Clear could I recognize the spirit-light,

Which worked not as man clothed in flesh doth work.

As spirit did it act, that strives to do

Such work as in eternity hath root.

And only now, when I dare stand complete

In spirit nigh thee, doth the full light glow.

In thee my sight of sense already grasped

Reality so fast, that certainty

Doth meet me even here in spirit-realms;

And well I know that now before me stands

No phantom shape. ’Tis thy true character

In which I met thee yonder, and in which

’Tis now permitted me to meet thee here.

Theodora:

I feel compelled to speak. A glow of light

From out thy brow, Maria, upward mounts.

This glow takes shape, and grows to human form.

It is a man with spirit deep imbued,

And other men do gather round his feet.

I gaze into dim times, long passed away

On that good man who rose from out thy head:

His eyes do shine with perfect peace of soul;

And deep true feeling glows in every line

And feature of his noble countenance.

A woman facing him mine eye doth see,

Who listens with devotion to the words

Proceeding from his mouth; which words I hear,

And thus they sound: ‘Ye have unto your gods

Looked up with awed devotion until now.

These gods I love, as ye love them yourselves.

They did present unto your thought its power,

And planted courage in your heart; but yet

Their gifts spring from a higher spirit still.’

I see how rage doth spread amongst the throng

At this man’s words. I hear their mad wild cries:

‘Kill him; for he desires to take from us

The gifts the gods have given to our race.’

But unconcernedly the man speaks on.

He tells now of that God in human form,

Who did descend to earth and conquer death.

He tells of Christ; and as his words flow on

The souls around grow calm and pacified.

One only of the heathen hearts resists,

And swears it will wreak vengeance on the man.

I recognize this heart; it beats again

In yonder child, that nestles at thy side.

The messenger of Christ speaks to it thus:

‘Thy fate doth not permit thee to draw nigh

In this life; but I shall wait patiently,

For thy path leads thee to me in the end.’

The woman who doth stand before the man

Falls at his feet and feels herself transformed.

A soul prays to the God in human form;

A heart doth love God’s messenger on earth.

Maria:

Johannes, that which dawneth in thy mind

Thou shalt awaken to full consciousness.

E’en now within thee hath thy memory

Wrenched itself free from fetterings of sense.

Thou hast found me, and thou hast felt myself,

As we were joined in former life on earth.

Thou wast the woman whom the seeress saw,

For so didst thou lie prostrate at my feet,

When I as messenger of Christ did come

Unto thy tribe in days long since gone by.

What in Hibernia’s consecrated shrines

Was then entrusted to me by that God,

Who dwelt in human form, and did become

A conqueror o’er all the powers of death,

I had to bring to tribes, in whom still lived

A soul that brought a willing sacrifice,

To mighty Odin, and with sorrow thought

Upon the death of Balder, god of light.

The power, which from that message grew in thee,

Attracted thee to me from the first day

Thine eyes of sense beheld me in this life.

And since it strove so mightily in us,

And yet remained unrecognized by both,

It wove into our life those sufferings,

Which we o’ercame. Yet in that pain itself

There lay the power to guide us on our way

To spirit-realms, where we might recognize

And know in very truth each other’s soul.

Intolerably did thy pain increase

Through all the men who thronged thee round about,

With whom by fate’s decree thou art conjoined.

Hence was the revelation of their selves

Able so fiercely to convulse thine heart.

These men hath Karma gathered round thee now,

To wake in thee the power that once did urge

Thee on the path of life, which selfsame power

Hath thus far roused thee, that, from body freed,

Thou couldst ascend into the spirit-world.

Thou standest nearest to my soul, since thou

Hast kept through pain thy steadfast faith in me.

And therefore hath it fallen to my lot

That consecration to complete in thee,

To which thou owest this thy spirit-light.

The brethren, who within the temple serve,

Have wakened sight in thee; yet canst thou know

That what thou seest is very truth indeed,

Only when thou dost find in spirit-realms

A being, unto whom in worlds of sense

Thou wast united in thine inmost soul.

And that this being might thus meet thee here,

Before thee did the brethren send me out.

And this did prove the hardest of thy tests,

When I was summoned here to wait for thee.

Our leader, Benedictus, did I ask

To solve for me the riddle of my life,

That seemed to be so cruel and unkind;

And blessedness streamed from his every word,

Telling of his own mission and of mine.

He told me of the spirit I must serve

With all the power which I have found in me.

And at his words it seemed to me as though,

All in a moment clearest spirit-light

Streamed through and through my soul, and suffering

Was changed to joyous blessedness; one thought

Alone then filled my soul;—he gave me light,

Yea, light, that gave to me the power of sight;—

It was the will that lived within the thought

Wholly to give myself to spirit-life,

To make me ready for the sacrifice

Which would unto our leader draw me near.

This thought did generate the highest power:

It gave wings to my soul and wafted me

Into that realm where thou hast found me now.

In that same moment when I felt released

From my sense body, I was free to turn

My spirit’s eye upon thee, and I saw

Not only thee, Johannes, standing there;

I saw the woman too, that followed me

In ancient times; and had bound close to mine

Her destiny. E’en thus was spirit-truth

Revealed to me in spirit-realms through thee,

Who in the world of sense already wast

Made one with me in inmost consciousness.

So did I gain this spirit-certainty

And was endowed to give it unto thee.

Sending a ray of highest, tenderest love

To Benedictus, I went on before;

And he hath given unto thee the power

To follow me into the spirit-spheres.

Benedictus:

Ye here have found yourselves in spirit-realms

And so it is permitted unto me

To stand once more beside you in these realms.

I could confer the power that urged you here,

But I could not conduct you here myself.

Thus read the law, which I must needs obey:—

Ye must through your own selves first gain the eye

Of spirit, which doth here make visible

My spirit to you. Ye have just begun

E’en now the path of spirit-pilgrimage.

Henceforth indeed upon the plane of sense

Endowed with novel powers shall ye both stand,

And with the spirit in your hearts unsealed

The cause of human progress shall ye serve,

For Fate itself hath so united you,

That ye together may unfold the powers

Which needs must serve divine creative work.

And as ye journey on the path of souls

Wisdom herself will teach you that the heights

May only be obtained by souls of men,

Who have gained spirit-certainty, when they

Unite in faith to do salvation’s work.

My spirit-guidance hath united you

To realize each other: now do ye

Unite yourselves to do the spirit’s work.

May powers that dwell within this realm confer

On you through these my lips this Word of strength:—

‘The weaving essence of the light streams forth

From man to man to fill all worlds with truth.

The grace of love spreads warmth from soul to soul

To work out bliss eternal for all worlds.

And spirit-messengers come forth to wed

Man’s works of love and grace to cosmic aims.

And when a man who dwells amongst mankind

Can wed these twain, there doth stream forth on earth

True spirit-light from his warm loving soul.’

Sophia:

Forgive me, dear Estelle, for keeping you waiting. I had to attend to something for the children.

Estella:

Here I am back again with you already. I long for your sympathy, whenever anything stirs me deeply.

Sophia:

Well, you know that I shall always sympathize most warmly with you in your interests.

Estella:

This play, of which I spoke to you, Outcasts from Body and from Soul touched me so deeply. Does it seem to you odd when I say that there were moments when all I had ever known of human sorrow stood before me? With highest artistic force the work not only gives the outer mischances, met with by so many people, but also points out with wonderful penetration the deepest agonies of the soul.

Sophia:

One cannot, I fear, form a proper conception of a work of art by simply hearing of its contents. But I would like you to tell me what stirred you so.

Estella:

The construction of the play was admirable. The artist wished to show how a young painter loses all his creative desire, because he begins to doubt his love for a woman. She had endowed him with the power to develop his promising talents. Pure enthusiasm for his art had produced in her the most beautiful love of sacrifice. To her he owed the fullest development of his abilities in his chosen field. He blossomed, as it were, in the sunshine of his benefactress. Constant association with this woman developed his gratitude into passionate love. This caused him to neglect, more and more, a poor creature who was faithfully devoted to him, and who finally died of grief, because she had to confess to herself that she had lost the heart of the man she loved. When he heard of her death, the news did not seriously disturb him, for his heart belonged entirely to his benefactress. Yet he grew ever more and more certain that her noble feeling of friendship for him would never turn to passionate love. This conviction drove all creative joy from his soul, and his inner life grew constantly more desolate. In this condition of life the poor girl, whom he had forsaken, came again into his mind, and a wrecked life was all that resulted from a hopeful and promising man. Without prospect of a single ray of light he pined away. All this is portrayed with intense dramatic vividness.

Sophia:

I can easily see how the play must have worked upon your feelings. As a girl you always suffered intensely at the destiny of such people, who had been driven to bitterness by heavy misfortunes in their life.

Estella:

My dear Sophy; you misunderstand me. I can easily distinguish between what is real and what is merely artistic. And criticism fails, I know, if one carries into it the feelings one had in life. What stirred me here so deeply was the really perfect representation of a deep problem of life. I was once again able to realize clearly how art can only mount to such heights, when it keeps close to the fulness of life. As soon as it departs therefrom, its works are untrue.

Sophia:

I understand you perfectly when you speak like that. I have always admired the artists who could represent what you call the reality of life. And I believe a great many have that power,—especially nowadays. Nevertheless even the very highest attainments leave behind them in my soul a certain discomfort. For a long time I was unable to explain this to myself, but one day the light came that brought the answer.

Estella:

You mean to tell me, that your conception of the world has dispelled your appreciation of so-called realistic art?

Sophia:

Dear Estelle, let us not speak of my conception of the world today. You know quite well, that the emotion you have just described was entirely familiar to me long before I knew anything at all about what you call my ‘conception of the world.’ And these feelings are not only aroused in me with reference to so-called realistic art: but other things also create a similar feeling in me. It grows especially marked when I become aware of what I might call, in a higher sense, the want of truth in certain works of art.

Estella:

There I really cannot follow you.

Sophia:

A vivid grasp of real truth must needs create in the heart a sense of a certain poverty in works of art. For of course the greatest artist is always a novice compared with nature in her perfection. The most accomplished artist fails to give me what I can get from the revelation of a landscape or a human countenance.

Estella:

But that is in the nature of the case and cannot be altered.

Sophia:

But it could be altered, if men would only become clear on one point. They could say that it is irrational for the soul to reproduce what higher powers have already set before us as the highest form of art. Yet these same powers have implanted in man a desire to continue to work upon creation in a certain sense, in order to give to the world what these powers have not yet placed before the senses. In all that man can create, the original powers of creation have left nature incomplete. Why should he reproduce her imperfections in an imperfect form, when he has the ability to change that imperfection into perfection? If you think of this assertion as changed into an elemental feeling you will understand why I feel a sense of distress towards much that you call art. This perception of an imperfect reproduction of some obvious truth must needs produce distress. On the other hand, the least perfect representation of what is concealed behind the outwardly observed phenomenon may prove a revelation.

Estella:

You are really talking of something that nowhere exists. No true artist really tries to give a bare reproduction of nature.

Sophia:

That is just why so many works of art are imperfect; for the creative function leads of itself beyond nature, and the artist cannot know the appearance of what is outside his senses.

Estella:

I see no possibility of our coming to any understanding with one another on this point. It is indeed sad that, in these most important problems of the soul, my best friend follows views so different from my own. I hope our friendship may yet fall on better days.

Sophia:

On such a point we shall surely be able to accept whatever life may bring us.

Estella:

Au revoir, dear Sophy.

Sophia:

Good-bye, dear Estelle.

Johannes:

O man, feel thou thyself! For three long years

I have sought strength of soul, with courage winged,

Which doth give truth unto these words, whereby

A man may free himself to conquer first;

Then conquering himself may freedom find

Through these same words: ‘O man, feel thou thyself.’

I note their presence in mine inmost soul,

Their whispered breathing thrills my spirit-ear;

And hid within themselves they bear the hope,

That they will grow and lead man’s spirit up,

Out of his narrow self to world-wide space,

E’en as a giant oak mysteriously

Builds his proud body from an acorn small.

Spirit can cause to live in its own self

All weaving forms of water and of air,

And all that doth make hard the solid earth.

Man too can grasp whate’er hath ta’en firm hold

Of being, in the elements, in souls,

In time, in spirits and eternity.

The whole world’s essence lies in one soul’s core,

When such power in the spirit roots itself,

Which can give truth unto these selfsame words:

O man, experience and feel thyself—

I feel them sounding in my very soul,

Rousing themselves to grant me strength and power.

The light doth live in me; the brightness speaks

Around me; soul light germinates in me;

The brightness of all worlds creates in me:

O man, experience and feel thyself;

Johannes:

I find myself secure on every side,

Where’er these words of power do follow me.

They will give light in sense-life’s darkened ways:

They will sustain me on the spirit-heights:

Soul-substance will they pour into my heart

Through all the Æons of eternity.

I feel the essence of the worlds in me,

And I must find myself in all the worlds.

I gaze upon the nature of my soul,

Which mine own power hath vivified; I rest

Within myself; I look on rocks and springs;

They speak the native language of my soul.

I find myself again within that soul,

Into whose life I brought such bitter grief;

And out of her I call unto myself:

‘Thou must find me again and ease my pain.’

The spirit-light will give to me the strength

To live this other self in its own self.

Oh hopeful words, ye stream forth strength to me

From all the worlds: O man, feel thou thyself.

Johannes:

Ye make me feel my feebleness, and yet

Ye place me near the highest aims of gods;

And blissfully I feel creative power

From these high aims in my weak, earthly form.

And out of mine own Self shall stand revealed

Those powers, whereof the germ lies hid in me.

And I will give myself unto the world

By living out mine own essential life;

Yea, all the might of these words will I feel,

Which sound within me softly at the first.

They shall become for me a quickening fire

In my soul-powers and on my spirit-paths.

I feel how now my very thought doth pierce

To deep-concealed foundations of the world;

And how it streams through them with radiant light.

E’en thus doth work the fructifying power

Of these same words: O man, feel thou thyself.

From heights of light a being shines on me,

And I feel wings to lift myself to him:

I too will free myself, like all those souls,

Who conquered self.

Who conquered self. That being do I see

Whom I would fain be like in future times.

The spirit in me shall grow free, through thee

Sublime example, I will follow thee.

Johannes:

The spirit-beings, who did take me up,

Have woken now the vision of my soul.

And as I gaze into the spirit worlds,

I feel in mine own self the quickening power

Of these same words: O man, feel thou thyself.

Johannes:

Thou here, my friend?

Maria:

Thou here, my friend? My soul did urge me here.

I saw thy star shining in fullest strength.

Johannes:

This strength can I experience in myself.

Maria:

So closely are we one, that thy soul’s life

Allows its light to shine forth in my soul.

Johannes:

Maria, then thou also art aware

Of what has just revealed itself to me.

Man’s first conviction has just come to me,

And I have gained the certainty of self.

I feel that power to guide me everywhere

Lies in these words: O man, feel thou thyself.

Theodosius (in spirit-garb):

Now canst thou feel all worlds within thyself:

So now feel me as love-power of all worlds.

A nature, that is lighted up by me,

Feels its own being’s power enhanced, whene’er

It gives itself to give another joy.

Thus do I work with true creative joy

To build the worlds. Without me none can live,

And naught without my strength can e’er exist.

Johannes:

So thou dost stand before my spirit’s eye,

Joy-giver of all worlds. My spirit’s strength

Doth feel creative joy, when I behold

Thee as the fruit of self-experience.

Within the temple to my spirit’s eye

Once didst thou show thyself, yet at that time

I knew not whether dream or truth appeared.

But now the scales have fallen from mine eyes,

Which kept the spirit’s light concealed from me:

I know now that thou really dost exist.

I will reveal thy nature in my deeds;

And they shall work salvation through thy power.

To Benedictus too I owe deep thanks:

Through wisdom hath he given me the strength

To turn my spirit’s sight unto thy world.

Theodosius:

Feel me in thy soul-depths, and bear my power

To all the worlds. Thus, serving Love’s behests

Thou shalt experience true blessedness.

Johannes:

I feel thy presence through its warming light;

I feel creative power arise in me.

He hath departed: but he will return

And give me strength from out the springs of love.

His light can disappear but for awhile;

Then, in its own existence, it lives on.

I can resign myself unto my Self,

And feel Love’s very self in mine own soul:

By Love uplifted I can feel my Self:

Love shall through me reveal himself to man.

Yet how shall I experience myself?

It seems some spirit-being draweth near.

Since I was counted worthy to receive

The spirit’s sight, I feel it ever thus,

When evil powers desire to seize on me.

Yet, come what may, I have strength to resist;

For I can feel myself within my Self;

Which quickening words give strength invincible.

Yet now most strong resistance do I feel:

Well may it be the fiercest of all foes:

But let him come, for he will find me armed.

Thou foe of Good; ’tis surely thine own self!

For near me I can feel thy potent strength.

I know thou dost desire to rend in twain

Whate’er has wrenched itself from thy control.

But I shall strengthen in me that new strength,

Wherein thou canst have neither part nor lot.

Johannes:

O Benedictus, fount of my new life!

It is not possible. It cannot be.

Nay, nay, it cannot be thyself. Thou art

Some vain illusion. Oh, revive in me

Ye good powers of my soul, and straightway crush

This phantom image, that would mock at me!

Benedictus:

Ask of thy soul now, whether it can feel,

What through these years my nearness meant to it.

Through me the fruits of wisdom grew for thee;

And wisdom only now can lead thee on,

And fend from error in the spirit’s realm.

So now experience me within thyself.

Yet wouldst thou go still further, thou must then

Enter that way, which to my temple leads.

And if my wisdom is to guide thee still

To loftier heights, it must flow from that spot

Where with my brethren close conjoined I work.

The strength of truth I gave to thee myself;

And if this kindles power from its own fire

Within thyself, then shalt thou find the way.

Johannes:

Oh, he doth leave me. How shall I decide

Whether I have some phantom form dispelled,

Or if reality hath left me now?

Yet do I feel in me my strength renewed.

’Twas no illusion, but the man himself.

I will experience thee within myself,

O Benedictus, for thou gav’st me power,

Which, growing of itself within myself,

Taught me to sever error from the truth.

And yet to vain illusion I succumbed:

1 felt a shudd’ring fear at thine approach;

And could consider thee a fantasy,

When thou didst stand before my very eyes.

Theodosius:

From all illusion thou shalt free thyself,

When thou dost fill thyself with mine own strength:

To me could Benedictus lead thy steps,

But thine own wisdom now must be thy guide.

If thou dost only live what he hath put

Within thee, then thou canst not live thyself.

In freedom strive unto the heights of light;

And for this striving now receive my strength.

Johannes:

How glorious these words of thine do sound!

I must now live them out within myself.

From all illusion they will set me free,

If they but fill my nature to the full.

Work on then further in my soul’s deep core,

Ye words, sublime and grand! Ye surely must

Proceed from out the temple’s shrine alone,

Since Benedictus’ brother uttered you.

I feel already how ye mount within

Mine inmost being.

Mine inmost being. Soon shall ye resound

From out my very Self, that I may read

Your meaning rightly. Spirit, that doth dwell

Within me, forth from thy concealment come!

Now in thine own true nature show thyself!

I feel thy near approach: thou must appear.

Lucifer:

O man, know me. O man, feel thou thyself.

From spirit guidance hast thou freed thyself,

And into earth’s free realms thou hast escaped.

Midst earth’s confusion thou didst seek to prove

Thine own existence; and to find thyself

Was thy reward. So now use this reward.

In spirit-ventures keep thyself secure.

In the wide realms on high a being strange

Thou shalt discover, who to human lot

Will fetter thee, and will oppress thee too.

A man, feel thou thyself: O man, know me.

Ahriman:

O man, know thou thyself: O man, feel me.

From spirit darkness hast thou now escaped;

And thou hast found again the light of earth.

So now from my sure ground draw strength and truth.

The solid earth do I make hard and fast:

Yet canst thou also lose that certainty.

Weak hesitation can e’en now destroy

The power of being, and thou canst misuse

The spirit-strength e’en in the heights of light.

Thou canst be rent in twain within thyself.

O man, feel me. O man, know thou thyself.

Johannes:

What meaneth this? First Lucifer arose

From me, and Ahriman did follow him.

Doth now some new illusion haunt my soul,

Although I prayed so ardently for truth?

Hath Benedictus’ brother roused in me

Only those powers, which in the souls of men

Do but create illusion and deceit?

Spirit:

To founts of world primeval

Thy surging thoughts do mount.

What unto illusion urged,

What in error held thee fast,

Appeareth to thee now in spirit-light.

Through whose fulness seeing,

Mankind doth think in truth;

Through whose fulness striving,

Mankind doth live in Love.

Retardus (to Capesius and Strader before him):

Ye have brought bitter grief to me, my friends.

The office which I did entrust to you

Ye have administered with ill success.

I call you now before my judgment seat.

To thee, Capesius, I did entrust

Full measure of the spirit, that ideas

Of mankind’s upward striving might compose,

With graceful words, the content of thy speech,

Which should have worked convincingly on man.

Then thine activity I did direct

Into those gatherings of men, wherein

Thou didst Johannes and Maria meet.

Their tendency towards the spirit-sight

Thou shouldst have superseded by the power

Which thy words should have exercised on them.

Instead of that thou didst thyself give up

Unto the influence which flows from them.—

And to thee, Strader, did I show the way

That leads to scientific certainty.

Thou hadst by rigid thinking to destroy

The magic power that comes from spirit-sight.

But yet thou lackedst feeling’s certain touch.

The power of thought did slip away from thee,

When opportunity for conquest came.

My fate is close-entwinÉd with your deeds,

Through you are these two seekers after truth

Now lost for evermore from my domain;

For to the brethren I must give their souls.

Capesius:

Thy trusty messenger I could not be.

Thou gav’st me power to picture human life;

And I could well portray whate’er inspired

The souls of men at this time or at that:

But yet it was impossible for me

To gift my words, which painted but the past,

With power to fill and satisfy men’s souls.

Strader:

The weakness which must needs befall me too

Was but a true reflection of thine own.

Knowledge indeed thou couldst give to me:

But not the power to still that yearning voice,

Which strives for truth in every yearning heart.

Deep in mine inmost soul I none the less

Felt other powers continually arise.

Retardus:

See now then what result your weakness brings.

The brethren are approaching with those souls

In whom they will o’erthrow my power. E’en now

Johannes and Maria feel their might.

Benedictus (to Lucifer):

Johannes’ and Maria’s souls have now

No longer room for blind unseeing power:

To spirit-life they have been lifted up.

Lucifer:

Then must I straightway from their souls depart.

The wisdom unto which they have attained,

Doth give them power to see me, and my sway

O’er souls of men doth only last so long

As I remain invisible to them.

Yet doth the power continue which hath been

From the creation of the worlds mine own.

And though I cannot tempt their souls, yet still

My power will cause within their spirit-life

Most beauteous fruits, to ripen and endure.

Benedictus (to Ahriman):

Johannes’ and Maria’s souls have now

Destroyed all error’s darkness in themselves;

And spirit-sight hath been revealed to them.

Ahriman:

I must indeed renounce their spirits then;

For they will turn henceforth unto the light.

Yet one thing hath not yet been ta’en from me;

With sense-appearance to delight their souls.

And though no longer they will deem it truth,

Yet will they see how truth it doth reveal.

Theodosius (to the Other Maria):

Close intertwinÉd was thy destiny

With thine exalted sister’s loftier life:

The light of love I could impart to her:

But not the warmth of love, so long as thou

Didst always let thy noblest impulses

From dim sensations only rise in thee,

And didst not strive to see them clear and bold

In the full light of wisdom’s certainty.

The influence of the Temple does not reach

Unto the nature of vague impulses,

E’en though such impulse wills to work for good.

The Other Maria:

I needs must recognize that noble thought

Can only work salvation in the light.

So to the temple I now wend my way.

My own emotion shall in future times

Not rob the light of love of its results.

Theodosius:

Through this, thine insight, thou dost give me power

To make Maria’s soul-light on the earth

Run smooth and evenly upon its path:

For aye aforetime it must lose its might

In souls, such as thine own was heretofore,

Which would not unify their light with love.

Johannes (to the Other Maria):

I see in thee the nature of that soul,

Which also holdeth sway within mine own.

I was unable to find out the way

Which led to thine exalted sister’s soul

So long as in my heart the warmth of love

From love’s light ever held itself apart.

The sacrifice which to the temple’s shrine

Thou bring’st, shall be repeated in my soul.

Therein the warmth of love shall sacrifice

Itself unto love’s wonder-working light.

Maria:

Johannes, in the realm of spirit-life

Thou hast attained to knowledge through myself.

To spirit knowledge thou canst only add

True soul-existence, when thou findest too

Thine own soul, as thou didst find mine before.

Philia:

Then from the whole creation of the worlds

The joy of souls shall be revealed to thee.

Astrid:

From thine whole being then can be outpoured

The light and radiance of the warmth of souls.

Luna:

Then shalt thou dare to live out thine own self,

When such light can illuminate thy soul.

Romanus (to Felix Balde):

Long hast thou from the temple held thyself.

Thou only wouldst admit enlightenment,

When light from thine own soul revealed itself.

Men of thy nature rob me of the power

To give my light unto men’s souls on earth.

They wish to draw from darksome depths alone,

What they should freely offer unto life.

Felix Balde:

Yet ’twas man’s own illusion in itself,

That brought me light from out the darkest depths:

And let me to the temple find my way.

Romanus:

The fact that thou hast hither found thy way

Gives me the power to give light to the will

Of both Johannes and Maria here.

That it no more may follow forces blind,

But from world-aims henceforth direct itself.

Maria:

Johannes, thou hast seen thine own self now

In spirit in myself. Thou shalt live out

Thine own existence as a spirit, when

The world’s light can behold itself in thee.

Johannes (to Felix Balde):

In thee, good brother Felix, do I see

That soul-power which did hold my will fast bound

In its own spirit. Thou wouldst find the way

Unto the temple: with the strength of will

Within my spirit I would fain point out

The path unto the temple of the soul.

Retardus:

Johannes’ and Maria’s souls e’en now

Escape from my domain: how then shall they

Discover all that springs forth from my might?

So long as they did lack within their souls

The fundaments of learning, they did still

Find joy and pleasure in my gifts, but now

I see myself compelled to let them go.

Felicia:

That man without thine aid, may fire himself

To rational thought, that have I shown to thee

From me a learning streams that dare bear fruit.

Johannes:

This learning shall be wedded to the light,

Which from this temple’s source can fill men’s souls.

Retardus:

Capesius, my son, thou art now lost.

Thou hast withdrawn thyself from my domain

Before the temple’s light can shine for thee.

Benedictus:

He hath begun the path. He feels the light.

And he will win the strength to search and know

In his own soul all that, which up till now

Good Dame Felicia hath produced for him.

Strader:

Then I alone seem lost, for of myself

I cannot cast all doubts from out my heart;

And surely I shall never find again

The way that doth unto the temple lead.

Theodora:

From out thine heart a glow of light spreads forth;

A human image now is born therefrom;

And I can hear the words, which do proceed

From this same human form. E’en thus they sound:

‘I have achieved the power to reach the light.’

My friend, trust thou thyself! These very words,

When thy time is fulfilled, thyself shalt speak.