Capesius (arriving, approaches her):

I know an old friend will not ask in vain

For leave to stay and rest awhile with thee;

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

He needs what in thine house so oft he found.

Felicia:

When thou wast still far off thy wearied step

Told me the tale which now thine eyes repeat;

That sorrow dwelleth in thy soul today.

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 days

When scarce another man came near this house.

And thou art still our friend, despite events

That came between us, e’en though many now

Are glad to seek us in this lonely glade.

Capesius:

The tale is true then which hath reached mine ears,

That thy dear Felix, so reserved of yore,

Is nowadays a man much visited?

Felicia:

’Tis so; good Felix used to shut us off

From everyone—; but now the people throng

To question him, and he must answer them.

His duty bids him lead this novel life.

In former days he cared not to impart,

Save to his inner self, the secret lore

Concerning spirit-deeds and nature’s powers

By rock and forest unto him revealed.

Nor did men seem to value it before.

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

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

Hour upon hour on end, as oft he doth,

I long for those old days of which I spake.

How oft would Felix earnestly declare

That in the quiet heart enshrined, the soul

Must learn to treasure up the spirit-gifts

From worlds divine in mercy sent to her.

He held it treachery to that high speech

Of spirit, to reveal it to an ear

That was but open to the world of sense.

Felix:

Felicia cannot reconcile herself

To this much altered fashion of our life.

As she regrets the loneliness of old,

So she deplores the many days that pass

In which we have but few hours for ourselves.

Capesius:

What made thee welcome strangers to a house

That shut them out so sternly heretofore?

Felix:

The spirit-voice which speaks within my heart

Bade me of yore be silent; I obeyed.

Now that it bids me speak I show myself

Equally faithful unto its command.

Our human nature undergoes a change

As earth’s existence gradually evolves.

Now are we very near an epoch’s close.

And spirit-knowledge therefore must in part

Be now 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 sense

Which underlies thy strange mysterious words.

Felix:

It surely will unfold itself to thee;

For with a lofty spirit dost thou strive

And noble heart, and so the time must come

When thou thyself shalt hear the voice of truth.

Thou dost not mark how full of rich content

Man, as the image of the cosmos, is.

His head doth mirror heaven’s very self,

The spirits of the spheres work through his limbs,

And in his breast earth-beings hold their sway.

To all of these opposed, in all their might

Appear the demons, natives of the Moon,

Whose lot it is to cross those beings’ aims.

The human 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 else

Than product of divine activities.

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 Felicia

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

And make a picture for my seeking soul,

Which, being warmed thereat, may rightly grasp

The real true meaning in thy words contained.

Felicia:

Dear Felix oft hath told me in the past

The very words which now he spake to thee.

They freed a vision in mine heart, which I

Did promise, then and there, I must relate

Some day to thee.

Capesius:

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 skin well-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 (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.

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 eyes

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

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

A fearful dream mounts from abysmal depths—

Which shakes me through and through with fear and dread—

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

Alone to dream my 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.

What are the bonds that hold me prisoner

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

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 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 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 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.

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 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.

Lucifer:

O man, o’ercome thyself.

O man, deliver me.

Thou hast defeated me

In thy soul’s highest realm;

But I am bound to thee

In thine own being’s depth.

Me shalt thou ever find

Across thy path in life

If thou wouldst strive to shield

All of thyself from me.

O man, o’ercome thyself,

O man, deliver me.

Ahriman:

O man, be bold and dare.

O man, experience me.

Thou hast availed to win

To spirit seership here,

But I must spoil for thee

The longing of thy heart.

Still must thou suffer oft

Deep agony of soul,

If thou dost not consent

To make use of my powers.

O man be bold and dare.

O man, experience me.

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.

First Countryman:

See yon vile Jew; he surely will not dare

To take the same road that we take ourselves;

For things might very well come to his ears

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

Second Countryman:

We must make clear to his effrontery,

Aye, very clear indeed, that we no more

Will tolerate his race in our good land

Across whose bounds he hath contrived to slink.

First Countrywoman:

He is protected by the noble knights

Who live 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 Lord

And who the devil. Thankful should we be

To our good lords who give us food and work.

What should we be if it were not for them?

Second Countrywoman:

The Jew shall have my praise; his remedies

Have cured 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 blood

They grant an entrance to all kinds of sin.

Fourth Countryman:

The men who wait upon the knights oppose

Our ancient customs, saying that the Jew

Hath stores of knowledge both to heal and bless

Which will in days to come be rightly prized.

Fifth Countryman:

New times and better are in store; I see

Their coming in my spirit, when my soul

Pictures to me what eyes cannot behold.

The knights intend to bring all this about.

Fourth Countrywoman:

We owe the Church obedience, for she guards

Our souls from devil-visions, and from death,

And from hell-fire. The monks bid us beware

The knights, and their vile sorcerer, the Jew.

Fifth Countrywoman:

Only a short time longer need we bear

In patience the oppression of the knights.

Soon will their citadel in ruins lie.

Thus hath it been foretold me in a dream.

Sixth Countrywoman:

I fear such tales betoken mortal sin—

That noble knights do plot to bring us harm—

Nought do I see but good come from their hands;

I needs must count them Christians, as ourselves.

Sixth Countryman:

What men shall think of them in days to come

’Twere best to leave to be adjudged by those

Who shall live after us. Mere tools are we,

Used by the knights in their satanic arts

To war against true Christianity.

If they be driven out we shall be freed

From their pernicious sway, and live our lives

As we shall choose, in this our native land.

Now let us go to vespers, there to find

That which our souls require, and that which is

In harmony with our ancestral ways.

These novel teachings suit us not at all.

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.

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.

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.

Monk:

Hast thou then met with bliss and pain at once?

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.

Thomas:

Such an one only would I take to wife;

Since, honoured master, I have learned from thee

The meaning of obedience to God’s will.

Monk:

And art thou also certain of thy soul,

That it will walk still further in the way

Of righteousness, which I have pointed out?

Thomas:

So sure as in this body beats a heart,

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

To those exalted teachings which of old

From thine own lips I was allowed to learn.

Monk:

And now that thou hast told me of thy bliss

Let me hear also from thee of thy woe.

Thomas:

Oft have I told thee what my life hath been.

Scarce had I left my childhood’s days behind

Than I began to travel and to roam.

I never worked for long in any place.

Ever I cherished in my heart the wish

To meet my father, whom I loved, although

I had not heard a good report of him.

He left my dear good mother all alone

Because he wished to start his life anew

Unhampered by a wife and children twain.

The impulse for adventure dwelt in him.

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

My sister was a tiny new-born babe.

My mother died of grief in no long time.

My sister was adopted by good folk

Who later moved away from my old home.

And of her fate I never more heard tell.

Some relatives assisted me to learn

A miner’s work, in which I 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 ties

Imposed on thee by blood-relationship.

But what I can bestow upon thy soul

Shall ever be to thee a gift of love.

First Preceptor:

Thou didst send word thou wouldst have speech with me.

What is the news that thou art come to bring?

Joseph Keane:

Most weighty matters both to thee and me.

Thou knowst the master miner Thomas here,

Who renders service to thee?

First Preceptor:

Who renders service to thee? Well I know

The worthy man; we prize him for his skill,

And his subordinates hold him in love.

Keane:

And dost thou know my child, Cecilia, too?

First Preceptor (moved):

It hath so chanced that I have seen the maid

When I have met thee with thy family.

Keane:

It happened that soon after Thomas came

He paid us frequent visits in our home.

They grew more frequent; it was evident

That to Cecilia his whole heart went out.

We did not marvel that this should be so.

But, knowing our girl’s nature, it was long

Ere we could think that she returned his love.

Her life was well nigh one continuous prayer,

And almost all society she shunned.

Yet ever doth it now appear more clear

That to this stranger she hath giv’n her heart.

And as things are, we feel ourselves compelled

Not to oppose the wishes of our child;

Thomas she loves, and she would marry him.

First Preceptor (with faltering movements):

Why runs this marriage counter to thy will?

Keane:

My lord, there is no need for me to tell

Of my devotion to the brotherhood.

My heart would have to bear a heavy load

If my child’s love, in its entirety,

Were cast upon the side of those who say

That you and I alike are heretics.

The monk who now o’er yonder abbey rules

Close by our home, and who doth ever seek

To thwart the mission of the brotherhood,

Hath won dominion o’er our daughter’s soul.

As long as she is still beneath my roof

So long shall I too not abandon hope

That she may yet again retrace the path

Which leads from spirit-darkness unto light.

But I shall have to give her up for lost

When she shall have become the wife of one

Who, like herself, works for the weal of man

According to the precepts of that monk.

His Reverence hath had complete success

In foisting such opinions as he holds

On Thomas, who receives them in full faith.

A thrill of terror would run over me

To hear the curses pour from Thomas’ lips

Whene’er we spake about the brotherhood.

First Preceptor:

Our enemies are many; if one more

Is added it cannot affect us much.

Thy words have not yet made it clear to me

What my concern is with this tale of love.

Keane:

My lord, thou seest this packet in mine hand.

Its contents warrant me to come to thee.

My wife and I alone have read the lines:

None else in these parts knows a word of them.

Now must they be made known to thee as well—

The maid who passeth for our flesh and blood

Is not the offspring of my wife and me.

We undertook the training of the child

When her own mother died. What I have still

To say will make it seem unnecessary,

To tell at length how all this came to pass.

For long we knew not who her father was;

The girl today knows not her parentage.

Father and mother she beholds in us.

And such a state of things might have gone on

Since we do love her as our very own.

But some years later than her mother’s death

The papers that I hold were brought to us;

They make it plain who our child’s father is.

I cannot tell if he is known to thee.

But now I know—am sure …

But now I know—am sure … that thou art he.

There is no need for me to tell thee more.

But since it is thy child who is concerned

I beg thee to extend to me thine aid.

United our endeavours may succeed

To save her from the darkness that impends.

First Preceptor:

Dear Keane. Thou hast been ever true to me,

And I would fain still further count on thee.

Neither within nor yet without these walls

Must any in this country ever know

The truth of my relation to this girl.

Keane:

My word thereon. I mean no harm to thee;

I only beg that thou wilt lend thine aid.

First Preceptor:

Thou dost perceive that at the present time

I cannot talk with thee at greater length.

I pray thee come tomorrow.

Keane:

I pray thee come tomorrow. I will come.

First Preceptor:

How cruelly my fate fulfils itself.

I left my wife and child in misery,

Since they seemed hindrances upon the path

Along which vanity did beckon me.

It led me on to join this brotherhood.

In words of solemn import I then vowed

My service to the cause of human love

Albeit I was laden with the guilt

Arising from the opposite of love.

The brotherhood’s clear vision, as applied

To acts and men, is manifest in me.

It welcomed me a brother in its ranks

And forthwith laid on me its rules severe.

To self-examination was I led

And knowledge of myself, which otherwise

In other walks of life I had not found.

And then when, under Fate’s decree, my son

Came and dwelt near me, I was fain to think

That mighty Powers were merciful to me

In showing how to expiate my sin.

I knew long since that this Keane’s foster-child

Was none else than the daughter whom I left.

The brotherhood is near its overthrow,

Each brother resolute to meet his death,

Convinced that those high purposes will live

For which he makes his life the sacrifice.

But I, alas, have felt for many days

I was not worthy of this glorious end.

My purpose ever ripened to make known

My case unto the master, and to crave

Permission to forsake the brotherhood.

I had in mind thenceforward to devote

My days unto my children, and so far

As in this earth-life yet is possible

To offer penance. But I clearly see,

That ’twas not filial longing brought my son

To this same spot to seek his father out,

Although his good heart made him thus believe.

But he was led by forces in the blood

Which drew him to his sister. Other ties,

Blood-born, were loosened by a father’s guilt,

Or else yon monk had never had the power

To rob me so entirely of my son.

Indeed the robbery is so complete,

That with the brother will the sister too

From my paternal longings be estranged.

And so nought else remains for me but this,

To take immediate measures to ensure

That they shall know the truth about themselves,

And then with resignation to await

The penance laid upon me by those powers

Who keep the reckoning of our misdeeds.

Grand Master:

Henceforward Simon, in the castle walls

Thou must abide, for since that lying tale

Was published that thou art a sorcerer,

Peril awaits thine every step outside.

Simon:

My heart is sore indeed to find that men

In ignorance assail a proffered aid

Whose only object is to do them good.

Grand Master:

Those who, by grace of lofty spirit-powers,

Can turn their gaze upon the souls of men,

Will see the enemies therein arrayed

Which fight against the nature of the soul.

The battle which our mortal foes prepare

Is but an emblem of that greater strife

Waged in the heart incessantly by powers

Which are at enmity amongst themselves.

Simon:

My lord, in very truth these words of thine

Arouse an echo in my deepest soul.

Indeed my nature is not prone to dreams;

Yet when I walk alone through wood and field

A picture often riseth in my soul

Which with my will I can no more control

Than any object which mine eye beholds.

A human form appears in front of me

Which fain would grasp my hand in fellowship.

Such suffering on his features is expressed

As never yet I saw in any face.

The greatness and the beauty of this man

Seize firmly hold of all my powers of soul;

I fain would sink to earth and humbly bow

Before this messenger from other worlds.

Next moment like a raging flame, there comes

The wildest anger searing through my heart,

Nor can I gain the mastery o’er the power

That fans the opposition of my soul,

And I am forced to thrust aside the hand

Which is so lovingly held out to me.

So soon as to my senses I return

The radiant form hath vanished from my sight.

And thereupon, when I recall in thought

That which my spirit hath so often seen,

Before my soul this thought presents itself

Which moves me to the bottom of my heart.

I feel myself attracted by thy lore,

In which a Spirit-being is revealed

Descending from the Kingdom of the Sun,

To take a human form upon Himself,

In order to disclose Himself to men.

I cannot keep the glowing beauty out

That pours upon me from thy noble lore,

And yet my soul will not assent thereto.

The primal form of our humanity

In thy great Spirit-being I admit;

But still my individual self rebels

When I would turn to him in faith and love.

So must I ever wage an inward war

The archetype of every outer strife.

In sore distress, I seek in vain a clue

To solve the riddle of my life and fate:

How comes it that I understand so well

And yet that I in no wise can believe

The things thy noble teachings do reveal?

I follow thine example faithfully,

Yet find myself opposed at every point

To this example’s goal and origin.

And when I must thus recognize myself,

A flood of doubt o’erwhelms my falt’ring faith

That in this life I may yet find myself.

Nay, worse than this, the dread doth haunt me oft

That this bewilderment of doubt may run

Through all the lives that I shall live on earth.

Grand Master:

The picture, which thou sawest, my good friend,

Before my spirit stood out strong and clear

Whilst thou didst paint it in those vivid words;

And as thou didst speak further, then it grew

In breadth before mine eyes until I saw

How cosmic aims are linked to human fate.

First Master of Ceremonies:

Dear brother, I must openly confess

That our Grand Master’s clemency exceeds

My comprehension, when I needs must see

What bitter wrong our foes inflict on us.

Although they will not study what we teach

They scruple not to paint us in men’s eyes

As heretics and messengers from hell.

Second Master of Ceremonies:

His clemency from our own teaching flows.

Can we proclaim life’s highest aim to be

To understand the soul of every man,

And then misunderstand our foes ourselves?

There are amongst them many men indeed

Who follow in the footsteps of the Christ.

Yet even from the souls of such as these

The essence of our teachings must be veiled,

Though they should hear them with the outer ear.

Remember, brother, how reluctantly,

And with what inner conflict, thou wast led

To grant admission to the spirit-voice.

We know, from what the master hath revealed,

That future men will see in Spirit-light

The lofty Being of the Sun, who trod

This Earth once only in a human frame.

This revelation we with joy believe

And gladly follow where our leaders tread.

Yet but a short time since these weighty words

Were said by him whom we acclaim as Head:

‘Your souls must ripen slowly, if indeed

With eyes prophetic ye would see today

That which the men of later days shall see

And ye must not imagine,’ said our chief,

‘That after passing one initial test

Ye can have sight of things that are to be.

When ye shall have attained to certainty

That all mankind must needs be born again,

Ye then will have to meet the second test

Which sets your personal illusions free

To dim the radiance of the Spirit-light.’

This solemn warning, too, the master gave:

‘Ofttimes reflect, in meditation’s hour,

How psychic monsters, of illusion born,

Beset the path of those who seek the light.

Who falls their victim may see even there

Human existence where the Spirit seeks

To be revealed to Spirit-light alone.

If ye would worthily prepare yourselves

To recognize, by help of inner sight,

The Light of Wisdom streaming from the Christ,

Over yourselves ye must keep watch and ward

Lest personal illusion blind you then

When your souls think that it is furthest off.’

With this injunction clearly held in view

We soon shall rid us of the vain belief

That in these times we can transmit these truths,

Whose beauty we confess within our souls,

In easy manner to posterity.

Rather must we take comfort from the fact,

That we today can meet so many souls

In whom the seed, although they know it not,

Already hath been sown for future lives.

This seed can only manifest itself

In man, by opposition to those Powers

With which it later will ally itself.

In all this hatred which pursues us now

I do but see the seed of future love.

First Master of Ceremonies:

Certain it is that highest truth’s intent

Can only in such manner be disclosed;

Yet hard it seems in this our present age

To shape our lives to follow out its aim.

Second Master of Ceremonies:

Here too I follow out our master’s words:

‘It is not granted unto all mankind

To live Earth’s future stages in advance.

But individuals there must ever be

Who can foresee what later days will bring,

And who devote their feeling to those Powers

Which loose all being from its present ties

To guard it safe for all Eternity.’

Bertha:

Dear mother, I so long to hear the tale

Cecilia often spake of years ago.

Thou dost know all those fairy-tales to tell

Which father brings back with him from the knights

When he comes home, and which with greatest joy

So many friends are always glad to hear.

Keane:

The soul can find real treasure in those tales.

The gifts which on the spirit they confer

Decay not with the body in the grave

But bear their fruits in later lives on earth.

Darkly, as through a glass, we glimpse their truth;

And from such darkened sight, our souls can win

Knowledge to serve our needs in daily life.

If only folk could realize the store

Of precious gifts our knights have to bestow!

Cecilia and Thomas have, alas,

Deaf ears at present for such things as these;

Since they draw wisdom from another source.

Bertha:

Today I fain would listen to that tale

Which tells about the Evil and the Good.

Dame Keane:

Right gladly will I tell it thee. Attend.

Once on a time there lived a man who spent

Much time in puzzling over cosmic truths.

That which tormented his poor brain the most

Was, how to learn of Evil’s origin.

And to that question he could not reply.

The world was made by God, so he would say,

And God can only have in him the Good.

How then doth Evil spring from out the Good?

Time and again he puzzled over this,

But could not find the answer that he sought.

Now it befell that on a certain day

This seeker on his travels passed a tree

That was engaged in converse with an axe.

Unto the tree the axe did speak these words:

‘That which thou canst not do I can achieve,

I can fell thee; but thou canst not fell me.’

Unto the vain axe thus the tree replied:

‘’Twas but a year ago a man did cleave

The very wood of which thine haft is made

Out of my body with another axe.’

And when the man had listened to these words

A thought was straightway born within his soul

Which he could not set clearly down in words,

But which completely answered his demand:

How Evil could originate from Good.

Keane:

Think on this story, daughter and thou’lt see,

How contemplating nature’s mysteries

May form fresh knowledge in a human head.

I know how many things I can make clear

Unto myself by spinning out in thought

The tales by which the knights enlighten us.

Bertha:

I know I am a simple little thing,

Without ability to understand

The learned words which clever people use

In setting forth the science they profess.

I have no taste for matters of that kind.

Whenever Thomas tells us of his work

I nearly fall asleep. But I could spend

Unnumbered hours in listening to the tales

Which father brings back home on his return

From visiting the castle, and wherewith

He often weaves a story of his own

As he recounts them to us hour on hour.

First Countryman:

My uncle yesterday came home again.

He dwelt a long time in Bohemia,

And earned an honest living in the mines.

Full many a bit of news he hath to tell

Picked up by him upon his journeyings.

Excitement and unrest are everywhere.

Attacks are made upon the Spirit-Knights.

Our local brotherhood can not escape;

Already preparations have been made

And ere long will this castle be besieged.

Second Countryman:

I hope ’twill not be long ’ere they attack.

Many amongst us will most certainly

Gladly enlist among the fighting-men;

I mean to be among the first myself.

First Countrywoman:

Thou wilt but hurry headlong to thy doom!

How can a man be such a witless fool!

Hast thou forgot how strongly fortified

The castle is? The battle will be grim.

Second Countrywoman:

It is no business of the countryfolk

To mix with things they do not understand.

Yet there are many hereabouts today

Who do naught else but go from place to place

And fan the embers of revolt and strife.

Things have already come to such a pass

That sick folk have to cry in vain for aid.

The good man who in former days was wont

To help so many in sore need, can now

No more pass out beyond the castle gates,

So cruelly have folk belaboured him.

Third Countrywoman:

Of course! for many people were enraged

On hearing from what source the sickness came

That broke out, all at once, among our cows.

The Jew brought this upon them by his spells.

He only seems to make sick people well

In order, by the use of hellish arts,

Better to serve the ends of evil powers.

Third Countryman:

This fuss about vile heresy is nought,

And matters not. The fact is that these folk

Had all they needed, and nought else to do

But spend their leisure in abusive talk.

A clever judge of human nature then

Devised this silly tale about the Jew,

How he had laid a spell upon our stock.

And so from this alone the storm arose.

Fourth Countryman:

I think that every one of you might know

What wars do mean, with all their misery.

Have not our fathers told us all that they

Must needs endure, when all the countryside

Was overrun by bands of soldiery?

Fourth Countrywoman:

I always said that it would come to pass:

Their lordships’ rule must shortly fade away.

Already hath a dream revealed to me

How we can be of service to the troops

When they arrive to carry out the siege,

And take good care of all their creature needs.

Fifth Countryman:

If dreams today are still to be believed,

That is a matter we need not discuss.

The knights have tried to make us cleverer

Than were our fathers. Now they have to learn

How much our cleverness hath been increased.

Our fathers let them in; in our turn we

Shall drive them out. I know the secret tracks

That yield an entrance to the fortalice.

I used to work within it until rage

Drove me away; now will I show the knights

How we can make their science serve our ends.

Fifth Countrywoman:

He surely hath no good thought in his heart;

I trembled as I listened to his words.

Sixth Countryman:

In spirit-vision I have lately seen

A traitor leading hostile soldiery

By secret ways into the castle’s keep.

Sixth Countrywoman:

Such visions are destructive, I should say.

No one who thinks as Christians ought to think

But is aware that honesty alone,

Not treason, can from evil set us free.

Sixth Countryman:

I let folk talk, and help as best I can.

How often do we hear a thing called wrong

By those who lack the courage in themselves

To do that very thing. Let’s go our ways;

I see the father coming down the road;

We will not interrupt his train of thought.

I found no difficulty up till now

In understanding everything he taught;

But in the sermon which he preached today

He said much that one could not understand.

Monk:

It must be that a soul is led astray

In striving to pursue her natural course.

The weakness of my heart alone allowed

Such visions to appear before mine eyes

As those which I beheld within those walls.

That they must show themselves to me in strife

Is proof enough how little yet in me

The psychic forces work in harmony.

Therefore will I address myself anew

To kindle in myself those potent words

Which bring me light from out the Spirit-heights.

That man alone prefers another road,

Whom personal illusions have made blind.

The soul can only triumph over lies

By proving herself worthy of the grace

Which Spirit-light, outpoured from founts of love,

In words of wisdom doth reveal to her.

I know that I shall find the greatest strength

Which can throw light on what the Fathers taught.

When from the gloom of self’s imaginings

With lowly heart submissive I can flee.

Cecilia:

Dear brother, when in fervent ecstasy

Of silent prayer my soul did bow herself

Unto the Fountain of the World, and yearn

Whole-heartedly to be made one therewith,

A light before my spirit would appear—

With gentle warmth and radiancy aglow;

This then transformed itself into a man

Who looked into my face with tender eyes,

And spoke to me. These were the vision’s words:

‘Human delusion left thee once forlorn,

And now thou art upborne by human love;

Wait therefore until longing finds a way

To bring the seeker safely to thy side.’

Thus spake this human figure oft to me;

Nor could I fathom what the words might mean;

And yet a dim foreboding made me glad,

That some time they should be fulfilled for me.

And then, beloved brother, thou didst come,

And when I first set eyes upon thy face,

I felt my senses leave me; for thou wast

That human figure’s very counterpart.

Thomas:

Dream and foreboding told thee but the truth,

Indeed ’twas longing guided me to thee.

Cecilia:

And when thou didst request me as thy wife

I thought the Spirit had ordained it so.

Thomas:

That in good truth the Spirit’s purpose was

To re-unite us, clearly may be seen,

Although we read it not aright at first.

As wife and helpmeet, sent me from above,

So didst thou seem to me, when first we met.

And then my long-lost sister did I find.

Cecilia:

And henceforth nothing shall divide us twain.

Thomas:

Yet many obstacles between us rise.

Thy foster-parents by close ties are bound

Unto the brotherhood which I must spurn.

Cecilia:

They are incarnate love and kindness both;

And loyal friendship will they give to thee.

Thomas:

My creed will separate me from their love.

Cecilia:

Through me you will find out the way to them.

Thomas:

Keane, the dear fellow, is so obstinate;

He never will see aught but darkness there

Where I perceive the very fount of light.

In riper years it was first granted me

To turn my steps toward this light of truth,

Since all I learned of it in childhood’s days

Upon my spirit made but little mark;

Whilst later on, my every thought was bent

On scientific knowledge as a means

To gain a livelihood. When I came here

At last I found the teacher and the guide

Who had the power to liberate my soul.

The teaching he hath let me listen to

Doth bear the very stamp of truth itself.

Such is his speech that heart and head alike

Must yield themselves as captives to his words,

So full at once of gentleness and good.

I took the greatest trouble heretofore

To understand the other spirit type;

And found it could but unto error lead.

Since it clings only to those spirit-powers

Which may be faithful guides in earthly ways

But cannot lift one up to higher worlds.

How shall I therefore ever find the way

Into the hearts of people who believe

That from this error all salvation springs?

Cecilia:

I hear thy words, dear brother, and they seem

The product of no peaceful frame of mind.

Yet ’tis a peaceful scene of former days

Which they have reawakened in my soul.

’Twas one Good Friday, many years ago,

I saw the scene of which I speak to thee.

It happened that upon that day the man

Who wore my brother’s features, said to me:

‘From source divine hath sprung the human soul;

It can in death dive down to nature’s depths,

In time it will set spirit free from death.’

Not until afterwards was I aware

That these words are the motto of our knights.

Thomas:

Alas! my sister, that thy lips should speak

Those evil words, which our opponents take

As revelation of the highest truth.

Cecilia:

I have at heart no sympathy at all

With outward acts committed by the knights;

I truly serve the creed that nourished thee.

But never could I make myself believe

That men who guide the footsteps of the soul

By such instruction toward so high a goal

Walk not themselves the path that Christ hath trod.

The Spirit’s pupil am I, staunch and true,

And I confess that it is my belief

That on that day, my brother’s spirit strove

To speak of aims that lead the soul to peace.

Thomas:

The powers of destiny have not ordained

Peace for the soul, it seems, for thee and me;

They take our father from us that same hour

That sees him once again restored to us.

Cecilia:

My faculties are clouded o’er with pain

When of our father thus I hear thee speak.

Thy heart would draw thee to his side in love,

And yet thou tremblest at the very thought

Of union with him whilst he is alive.

Thou followest our leader in good faith,

Yet canst not hear the messages of love

Which his commands so tenderly convey.

A dark enigma faceth me; I see

The goodness of thy heart, thy steadfast faith,

And yet must shudder at the deep abyss

That yawns so horribly betwixt you twain.

And did not hope live on to comfort me,

And tell me love is never overcome

I should lack courage to endure this pain.

Thomas:

Dear sister, thou hast yet to learn the power

Of thought, once it hath gripped a human soul.

This is no case of son opposing sire;

But one thought from another turns away.

Thought is the sovereign whom my soul obeys;

Did I refuse her homage I should be

In very truth my spirit’s murderer.

Ahriman:

So Benedictus spun a cunning web

Of thought, whose pattern thou hast followed out,

And now thou art fast bound in error’s toils.

Thomasius too and e’en Capesius

Are victims of this same illusion’s spell.

For at the same time as thine eyes beheld

This long-past earthly life—so too did theirs.

Henceforward ’tis in that time thou dost seek

To find the causes of thy present life;

But only error can be error’s fruit

If thou art ready to allow thyself

To make the path of duty here and now

Depend upon such vain imaginings.

That Benedictus took from thine own brain,

And placed these visions in an earlier age,

Thine own self’s knowledge can quite clearly prove.

Thou sawst people of this present time

But little changed from those of former days.

Woman thou sawst as woman, man as man,

And all their attributes were similar;

Thou canst not therefore any longer doubt

That what thou didst transfer to time’s dim past

By spirit-vision, far from being truth

Was but the vain delusion of thy soul.

Maria:

In thee I see the sire of all deceit;

Yet know I too thou oft dost speak the truth.

And any one who chose to set aside

All counsel that might reach him through thy words

To utmost error soon would fall a prey.

And as illusion wears the mask of truth

The better to ensnare the souls of men,

So ’tis but easy for a man to yield

Thereto, by trying like a coward to slink

Past every place where error might be hid.

More than illusion finds the soul in thee;

For in the Spirit of Deceit doth live

The force that gives mankind discernment true.

I therefore shall oppose thee without fear.

Thou hast attacked that portion of my soul

Which must at all times keep the most alert.

If I weigh all the evidence which thou

In clever calculation hast advanced,

’Twould seem that only pictures from my brain

Have been transferred into an earthly past.

Yet would I ask thee if thy wisdom can

Unlock the door of every earthly age?

Ahriman:

No beings live in any spirit-realm

Which set themselves to thwart me when I seek

Admission into any earthly age.

Maria:

The lofty Powers of Fate have chosen well

In setting thee to be their enemy.

Thou dost encourage all thou wouldst restrain.

Thou bringest freedom to the souls of men

When thou dost penetrate to their soul-depths.

From thee originate the powers of thought

Whence knowledge springs with all its vain deceits

But which can also guide man to the truth.

In Spirit-land there is but one domain

Where may be forged the sword that bids thee flee

As soon as thou dost set thine eyes thereon.

It is a realm in which the souls of men

Do gather knowledge through their reason’s powers,

Which knowledge they will afterwards transmute

To Spirit-wisdom. If I have the strength

To forge the word of truth into that sword,

That very moment thou must flee from hence.

So hearken well, thou sire of all deceit;

If truth triumphant I proclaim to thee—

In earthly evolution there are times

In which the ancient forces slowly die,

And dying, see the growth of newer ones.

At such a cyclic point my friends and I

Did find ourselves drawn close by spirit-bonds

Whilst seeking out our former lives on earth.

True Spirit-men were working at that time,

United in a brotherhood of souls

Whose aims were sought in mysticism’s realm.

Now, at such seasons certain tendencies

Are carefully implanted in men’s souls,

Which need a long time for full ripening.

In their next incarnation, therefore, men

Must show strong traces of their previous life.

At such times, many men will be reborn

In their succeeding lives as men—so too

Women as women often re-appear.

At that time also is the interval

Shorter than usual ’twixt two earthly lives.

To understand aright these cyclic points

Thou lackest power, and therefore canst not yet

Survey their growth with eyes from error free.

Call but to mind the time when last we met

In temples of that Spirit-brotherhood:

Then thou spakest words of flattery, intent

To break my inner consciousness of self.

I recollect this time; and draw therefrom

The force now to oppose myself to thee.

Maria:

Defeated he has had to leave the spot

Which Benedictus hath so often blessed.

But unto me hath been made manifest

How lightly souls may into error fall

Who give themselves unto the Spirit-voice

Without due heed, and shun the safer ways.

The Enemy indeed hath mighty power

Life’s contradictions to accentuate

And thus rob souls of their security.

He must fall silent when the Light appears

That from the fount of Wisdom issuing

Doth bring full clearness to our spirit-sight.

Lucifer:

Take warning by Capesius’ fate and learn

What fruits are ripened when a soul attempts

To penetrate too soon the spirit-world.

He knows the words writ in his book of life

And knows his tasks for many lives to come.

But suffering not ordained by destiny

Is wrought by knowledge which hath not the power

To change itself to deeds in earthly life.

The choice that to successful issue leads

Depends upon the ripeness of the will.

At every step that he would take in life

Henceforth Capesius must ask himself:

Can all my obligations thus be met

Which are the outgrowth of my former lives?

So o’er his path a dazzling light is shed,

Causing his eyes to suffer from the glare

And giving him no help upon his way.

It kills the forces which, whilst still unknown,

Are trusty guides for every human soul,

And doth not aid the power of careful thought.

Thus it can only hurt the body’s strength

Before the soul hath learned to conquer it.

Johannes:

I can perceive the error of my life.

I stole the soul-powers from my carnal frame

And proudly carried them to spirit-heights.

Yet it was not a human being whole

That thus was carried upward to the light.

Nought was it but the shadow of a soul,

Which could but rhapsodize of spirit-realms

And feel a oneness with creative powers;

It wished to live all blissful in the light

And deeds of light in colour to behold;

It fancied that as artist it could paint

Spirit-existence in a world of sense.

This form that took its semblance from mine own

Hath shown to me myself with cruel truth.

I dreamed of soul-love, pure and free from stain,

Whilst passion yet was coursing through my veins.

But now mine eyes have seen the earthly road

Which is the real creative force in life.

And shows me whither I must truly strive.

Those spirit-pathways which of late I trod

Cannot be followed far by such a soul

As just before its present life on earth

In Thomas’s body found a fitting home.

The fashion of his life must be for me

The rule by which to seek my present goal.

I’ve striven for attainment here and now

Of things that only later can bear fruit.

Lucifer:

My light must serve to guide thy further steps

As it hath done to guide them hitherto.

The spirit-path which thou hast sought to tread

Can wed the spirit to the lofty heights,

But to thy soul it bringeth nought but gloom.

Johannes:

What hath a man attained who gives himself

A soul-less puppet to the spirit-world?

E’en at the end of all his earthly days

He is but that same being which he was,

When in earth’s primal days his human form

From out the cosmic womb did first emerge.

If to those impulses I yield myself

Which, springing from unfathomed depths of soul,

Clamour imperiously for life and form,

Then in me works the universal all.

I know not then what drives me on to act;

But surely it must be the cosmic will

Which leads me on to its appointed goal.

This will must know the wherefore of man’s life

Though human knowledge cannot make it plain.

That which in perfect manhood it creates

Is vital wealth wherewith to form the soul.

To it will I surrender, and no more

By idle spirit-striving kill it out.

Lucifer:

Myself I work in this same cosmic will

When it flows mightily through human souls,

Which are but limbs of higher entities

Until they can experience my power.

And ’tis my task to make them perfect men

And fit themselves into the universe.

Johannes:

I long have thought I knew the whole of thee;

Yet dwelt within me but thy phantom shade

Portrayed there by my visionary dreams.

Now must I feel thee, live thee by my will;

Then can I overcome thee later on

If so ’tis written in my destiny.

Let spirit-knowledge, that I gained too soon,

Repose henceforth within mine inmost soul

Till impulses in life shall call it forth.

With confidence I yield me to that will

That hath more wisdom than the human soul.

Lucifer:

The Lord of Wishes stands as victor here—

He hath been able to o’erpower the soul

Which even in the light of spirit-sun

Still had to feel akin to this our realm.

I seized th’ auspicious hour in which to cast

A glamour o’er its vision of the light

To which in dreams alone it had bowed down.

Yet all my hopes must forthwith disappear

That victory is ours in spirit-realms,

Since thou art worsted, comrade of my fight.

Thou wast unable to o’erpower the soul

Which was to bring our labours to their goal.

The human soul that gave itself to me

I can possess and in our kingdom hold

For short earth-lives alone, but all in vain;

For then I must restore it to our foes.

To win outright we need the other, too,

That hath withdrawn itself from thy domain.

Ahriman:

The times are not well suited to my arts,

I find no means of access to men’s souls.

See, here comes one whom I did sorely plague.

Though ignorant in spirit he draws nigh;

For reason doth compel him to push on.

So I withdraw from him and from this place

Which he can only tread unconsciously.

Philia:

With faith’s clear power will I myself imbue

And force of living trust will I breathe deep,

From out the soul’s glad striving that the light

May dawn upon the spirit-slumberer.

Astrid:

With humble joy of soul will I entwine

That which hath been revealed; and will condense

The rays of hope that light in dark may shine;

And twilight in the light, that thus the powers

May bear aloft the spirit-slumberer.

Luna:

Soul light will I make warm, and will make hard

The power of love. Then shall they daring grow,

And shall release themselves, and mounting up

Endue themselves with weight, that cosmic loads

May fall from off the spirit-slumberer

That his soul’s love of light may set him free.

Benedictus:

My comrades, I have hither summoned you

Who with me seek to find the spirit-light

That should flow streaming to the souls of men.

Ye know the nature of the sun of soul;

Oft doth it shine with fullest noontide glare,

And then again like feeble twilight steal

Powerless through mists of visionary dream.

And often doth the darkness drive it out.

The temple-servants’ spirit-gaze must pierce

To soul depths where there shines with powerful ray,

The spirit-light that comes from cosmic heights.

Then too it must disclose mysterious aims

That lurk unnoticed in the soul’s dark lairs

Intent on shaping man’s development.

Those spirit-beings who from cosmic powers

Bestow the spirit-food on human souls

Are present now within the sacred fane

To guide this man’s soul from the spirit-night

Into the kingdom of the light on high.

The sleep of knowledge still envelops him;

But spirit-calls already have been heard

In his soul’s depths of which he never knew.

That which they spoke deep in his inmost soul

Will shortly find its way to spirit-ears.

Theodosius:

This soul hath not been able hitherto

To recognize itself in spirit-light

That through sense-revelation is outpoured,

To show the meaning of all earthly growth.

It saw God’s spirit stripped of nature’s guise,

And Nature’s self estranged from deity.

And so through many lives it had to pass

And stay a stranger to the sense of life;

It could but find alone such carnal tenements

To carry out its individual work

As barred it from the cosmos and from man.

Now in the temple it will earn the power

To recognize strange Being as its own,

And so be able to attain the force

That leads out from the labyrinths of thought

And points the way unto the springs of life.

Benedictus:

Another man strives to the temple’s light;

Though not at once will he approach its doors

And seek for entrance to this hallowed spot.

Throughout a life of studious research

He planted germs of thought in his soul-depths.

And so perforce the spirit-light went forth

To ripen them outside our temple’s doors.

’Twas given him to know his present life

To be the product of a former one

Lived in a time that now hath long gone by.

Now he can see the errors of that life

And realize what their result will be,

But lacketh power, those duties to fulfil,

Which through self-knowledge he can recognize.

Romanus:

Capesius shall, through the temple’s power,

Learn how a man must, in a single life,

Take up a load of duties which demand

For their entire accomplishment the space

Of many lives of earthly pilgrimage.

So casting fear aside he will admit

That ancient errors with their consequence

Pursue the soul e’en past the gate of death.

Nor shall he then be vanquished in the fight

By which the spirit-portals are flung wide

If eye to eye, undaunted, he shall brave

The Guardian of the Threshold of that realm.

To him shall by that guardian be revealed

That none may climb up to the heights of life

Who fears to look on destiny’s decrees.

His insight will admit with courage then

That of self-knowledge suffering is the fruit

For which she knows no words of comforting.

Will shall become his comrade on the way

Which faceth boldly all that may befall,

And, heartened by a draught from hope’s clear spring,

Endures the pain of widening consciousness.

Benedictus:

Ye have, my brothers, at this present hour,—

True servants of the temple that ye are,—

Set forth the ways in Wisdom’s outlines drawn

By which these two who seek the spirit-truth

Shall have their souls brought to their goal by you.

Yet other work the temple-service claims.

Here by our side the Lord of Wishes stands;

He can be present in this holy place

Because Johannes’ soul unbarred for him

The gates which he would otherwise find barred.

The brother who is our initiate

Lacks for the moment courage to withstand

With power the words that from the darkness rise.

The powers of good can only strengthen him

When on their opposite they test themselves.

’Twill not be long ere he again appears

Here in this temple, compassed by our love.

Yet must his spirit-treasure guarded be

Now that he must descend into the dark.

Thee must I now address who not for long

Canst occupy the ground where thou dost stand.

The temple’s power can at the present time

Not yet release Johannes from thy grasp.

In times to come he will be ours again,

When those fruits of our sister shall be ripe

Whose blossoms we already see unfold.

She could behold in bygone earthly lives

How closely linked Johannes was to her.

He followed after her so long ago

As in these days when she would fain oppose

The light whose humble handmaid now she is.

When soul-links prove themselves so staunchly true

As to outlast the spirit’s wanderings

Then shall the Lord of Wishes find his power

Unable to effect a severance.

Lucifer:

But Benedictus’ will itself compelled

Johannes’ and Maria’s souls to part.

And wheresoe’er men from each other part

There is the field made ready for my power.

I ever work for separateness of soul,

To set the earth-life free, and for all time

To break its servitude to cosmic chains.

Maria’s being, in monastic garb,

Turned from its father yonder soul away

That now is dweller in Johannes’ form.

This too hath caused some germs of mine to sprout

Which I shall surely bring to ripening.

Maria (turning to Lucifer):

In human nature there are springs of love

To which thy power can never penetrate.

They are unsealed when faults of former lives—

A load unwittingly assumed by man,—

Are in a later life by spirit seen,

And by the free-will of self-sacrifice

Transformed to earthly action, which shall tend

To bear fruit for the real good of man.

The powers of destiny have granted me

The vision which can penetrate the past;

Already too have I received the signs

So to direct my free-will sacrifice

That good may pour therefrom for every soul

Whose thread of life shall have to twine with mine

Throughout the evolution of this earth.

I saw how in its earthly frame of yore

Johannes’ soul turned from his sire away,

And saw the forces that compelled myself

To make the son repel the father’s heart.

Thus is the father now opposed to me

To bring to mind my own offence of old.

Plainly he speaks in cosmic language clear

Whose symbols are the actions of man’s life.

That which I set between the sire and son

Must reappear, though in another form

In this my life in which Johannes’ soul

Hath once again been closely knit to mine.

The suffering which I had to undergo

In severing Johannes from myself

Was but my own act’s fated consequence.

If now my soul is faithful to the light

Which from the spirit-forces comes to it,

It will be strengthened by the services

Which it may render to Capesius

In this sore stress of his life-pilgrimage.

And with such forces, similarly won,

Will also learn to see Johannes’ star

When he, by fetters of desire misled

Treads not the way illumined by the light.

The spirit-vision which hath led me back

To distant days on earth will teach me now

How I must deal with soul-links at this time

So that life-powers unconsciously prepared

Shall henceforth work awakened for man’s weal.

Benedictus:

In olden days on earth was formed a knot

Of threads which Karma spins world-fashioning.

Three human lives are interwoven there,

And now upon this fateful knot there shines

This holy temple’s lofty spirit-light.

’Tis thee, Maria, I must now address;

Of these three souls at this time thou alone

Art present at the place of sacrifice.

May this light operate within thyself

And turn to welfare those creative powers

Which once upon a time thy life-threads wove

Fast in a life-knot with those other two.

The father could not in his former life

His son’s heart find; but now in other scenes

The spirit-seeker will accompany

Thy friend’s self on its way to spirit-land.

And thine is now the duty to maintain

Johannes’ soul in light by thine own force.

Once didst thou hold it in so fast a bond

That it could only blindly follow thee.

Thou didst then give it back its liberty,

When still it clung to thee in fancy fond.

But thou shalt once more find it, when, self-willed,

It wins its individuality.

If thy soul to that light holds ever true

Which powers from spirit-realms bestow on thee,

Johannes’ soul will thirst to drink of thine

E’en where the Lord of all Desire holds sway;

And through the love which holds it bound to thee

It will regain the path to light on high.

For ever must a living being strive

Through light or darkness, which hath once beheld

And known the heights of spirit in its soul.

It hath drawn breath from cosmic distances

Of air that pulseth with immortal life,

And living raiseth all our human kind

From its soul depths up to the sunshine’s heights.