Four Mystery Plays

Secretary:

And e’en our good friends in St. Georgestown

Declare that they too are dissatisfied.

Manager:

What? even they; it is deplorable.

The self-same reasons too; ’tis plain to see

With what regret and pain our friends announce

That they can deal no more with Hilary.

Secretary:

Complaints of our unpunctuality

And of the value of our goods compared

With those produced by our competitors

Reach us by post; and on my business trips

Our clients meet me with the same old tale.

The good name of this house is vanishing,

By Hilary’s forefathers handed down

To us intact that we might heighten it.

And men begin to think that Hilary

Is swayed by dreamers and strange fantasies,

And, thus obsessed, no longer can bestow

The earnest care which he was wont to give

To all the operations of the firm,

Whose products were world-famous and unique.

So many as were our admirers then

So great is now the tale of those who blame.

Manager:

It is notorious that Hilary

Long since hath let himself be led astray

By seekers after some strange spirit gifts.

To such pursuits he ever was inclined;

But formerly he kept them separate

From business and its workaday routine.

Manager (to the Secretary):

It seems advisable to me to speak

Alone with our employer for a while.

Manager:

Anxiety it is that bids me seek

An interview and earnest speech with thee.

Hilary:

Why then does my adviser feel concerned?

Manager:

Things happen constantly which bring to light

A serious diminution in demand

For what we manufacture; nor do we

Produce as large an output as we should.

There is besides an increase of complaints

About the lower standard of our work,

And other houses step in front of us.

So too our well-known promptness hath declined

As many clients truthfully attest.

Ere long the best friends that remain to us

No more will be content with Hilary.

Hilary:

Long have I been full well aware of this

And yet indeed it leaves me unconcerned.

But none the less I feel an urgent need

To talk things over with thee; thou hast helped

Not only as the servant of my house,

But also as my dear and trusted friend.

And so I shall speak plainly to thee now

Of matters which I oft have hinted at.

Whoever wills to bring the new things in

Must be content to let the old things die.

Henceforth the business will be carried on

In different ways from those it knew before.

Production, that but stays in straitest bounds

And without care doth offer up its fruits

Upon the market of our earthly life

Regardless of the uses they may find,

Doth seem so trivial and of little worth,

Since I have come to know the noble form

Work can assume when shaped by spirit-men.

From this time forth Thomasius shall be

Directing artist in the workshops here,

Which I shall build for him close to our works.

So will the product made by our machines

Be moulded by his will in artist-forms

And thus supply for daily human need

The useful with the exquisite combined,

Art and production shall become one whole

And daily life by taste be beautified.

So will I add to these dead forms of sense,

For thus do I regard our output now,

A soul, whereby they may be justified.

Manager (after long reflection):

The plan to fabricate such wonder-wares

Suits not the spirit of our present age.

The aim of all production now must be

Complete perfection in some narrow groove.

The powers which work impersonally, and pour

The part into the whole in active streams,

Confer unthinkingly upon each link

A worth that is by wisdom not bestowed.

And were this obstacle not in thy path

Yet would thy purpose none the less be vain.

That thou shouldst find a man to realize

The plan thou hast so charmingly conceived

Passeth belief, at least it passeth mine.

Hilary:

Thou knowest, friend, I do not dream vain dreams.

How should I aim at such a lofty goal

Had not kind fate already brought to me

The man to realize what I propose?

I am amazed that thine eyes cannot see

That Strader is, in fact, this very man.

And one who, knowing this man’s inner self,

And his own duty to humanity,

Conceives one of his duties to be this;

To find a field of work for such a man,

A dreamer is no proper name for him.

Manager (after manifesting some surprise):

Am I to look on Strader as this man?

In his case hath it not been manifest

How easily deluded mortals are

Who lack the power to know realities?

That his contrivance owes to spirit-light

Its origin doth not admit of doubt.

And if it can sometime be perfected

Those benefits will doubtless pour therefrom

Which Strader thought he had already won.

But a mere model it will long remain

Seeing those forces are still undisclosed

Whose power alone will give reality.

I am distressed to find that thou dost hope

Good will result from giving up thy plant

Unto a man who came to grief himself

With his own carefully contrived machine.

’Tis true it led his spirit up to heights

Which ever will entice the souls of men,

But which will only then be scaled by him

When he hath made the rightful powers his own.

Hilary:

That thou must praise the spirit of this man

And yet seek’st cause to overthrow his work

Doth prove most clearly that his worth is great.

The fault, thou sayest, did not lie in him,

That failure rather than success was his.

Among us therefore he will surely find

His proper place; for here there will not be

External hindrances to thwart his plans.

Manager:

And if, despite what I have just now said,

I were to strive within myself and try

To tune my reason to thy mode of thought,

Still one more point compels me to object.

Who will in future value this thy work?

Or show such comprehension of thine aims

As to make use of what thou mayst have made?

Thy property will all be swallowed up

Before thy business hath been well begun,

And then it can no more be carried on.

Hilary:

I willingly admit my plans would show

Themselves imperfect, if amongst mankind

True comprehension were not first aroused

For this new kind and style of handicraft.

What Strader and Thomasius create

Must be perfected in the Sanctuary

Which I shall build for spirit knowledge here.

What Benedictus, what Capesius

And what Maria yonder shall impart

Will show to man the path that he should tread

And make him feel the need to penetrate

His human senses with the spirit’s light.

Manager:

And so thou wouldst endow a little clique

To live self-centred, from the world apart,

And shut thyself from all true human life.

Thou fain wouldst banish selfishness on earth

Yet wilt thou cherish it in thy retreat.

Hilary:

A dreamer, it would seem, thou thinkest me,

Who thoughtlessly denies experience

That life hath brought him. Thus should I appear

Unto myself if, for one moment’s space,

I held this view thou hast about success.

The cause that I hold dear may fail indeed,

Yet even if, despised by all mankind

It crumbles into dust and disappears,

Yet was it once conceived by human souls

And set up as a pattern on this earth.

In spirit it will work its way in life

Although it stay not in the world of sense.

It will contribute part of that great power

Which in the end will make it come to pass

That earthly deeds are wed to spirit aims;

This in the spirit-wisdom is foretold.

Manager:

I am thy servant and have had my say

As duty and conviction bade me speak;

Yet now the attitude thou hast assumed

Gives me the right to speak as friend to friend.

In work together with thee I have felt

Myself impelled for many a year to seek

A personal knowledge of the things to which

Thou giv’st thyself with such self-sacrifice;

My only guides have been the written words

Wherein the spirit-wisdom is revealed.—

And though the worlds are hidden from my gaze

To which those writings had directed me,

Yet in imagination I can feel

The mental state of men whose simple trust

Leads them to seek such spirit-verities.

I have found confirmation in myself

Of what the experts in this love describe,

As being the possession of such souls

As feel themselves at home in spirit realms.

The all-important thing, it seems to me,

Is that such souls, despite their utmost care,

Cannot divide illusions from the Truth

When they come down from out the spirit heights

As come they must, back into earthly life.

Then from the spirit world, so newly won,

Visions descend upon them which prevent

Their seeing clearly in the world of sense,

And, thus misled, their judgment goes astray

In things pertaining to this life on earth.

Hilary:

What thou wouldst raise as hindrance to my work

Doth but confirm my purpose; thou hast proved

That in thyself I now have one friend more

To stand beside me in my search for truth.

How could I have conjectured up till now

Thy knowledge of the nature of those souls

Who fain would come and join me in my task?

Thou know’st the perils ever threat’ning them.

So will their actions make it clear to thee

That they know paths where they are kept from harm.

Soon thou wilt doubtless know that this is so,

And I shall find henceforth as in the past

In thee a counsellor, who doth not fail.

Manager:

I cannot lend my strength to fashion deeds

Whose processes I do not understand.

Those men in whom thou trusted seem to me

Misled by the illusion I have named:

And others too, who listen to their words,

Will victims to that same illusion fall

Which doth o’erpower all thought that knows its goal.

My help and counsel evermore shall be

Thine to command as long as thou dost need

Acts based upon experience on earth;

But this new work of thine is not for me.

Hilary:

By thy refusal thou dost jeopardize

A work designed to further spirit-aims.

For I am hampered lacking thine advice.

Consider how imperious is the call

Of duty when fate designs to make a sign,

And such a sign I cannot but behold

In these men being here at our behest.

Manager:

The longer thou dost speak in such a strain

More clearly dost thou prove thyself to me,

The unconscious victim of illusion’s spell.

Thy purpose is to serve humanity,

But in reality thou wilt but serve

The group which, backed by thee, will have the means

To carry on awhile its spirit-dream.

Soon shall we here behold activities

Ordained no doubt by spirit for these souls,

But which will prove a mirage to ourselves

And must destroy the harvest of our work.

Hilary:

If thou wilt not befriend me with thine aid

Drear doth the future stretch before my soul.

Hilary:

Dear Strader, I have long expected thee.

As things are now it seems advisable

To spend the present time in serious talk

And later on, decide what we shall do.

My dear old friend hath just confessed to me

That he can not approve what we have planned.

So let us now hear counsel from the man

Who promises his spirit to our work.

Much now depends upon how at this time

Men recognize each other in their souls,

Who each to each seem like a separate world

And yet united could accomplish much.

Strader:

And so the loyal friend of Hilary

Will not join with us in the hopeful work

Which our friend’s wisdom hath made possible?

Yet can our plan alone be carried out

If his proved skill in life be wisely joined

In compact with the aims of future days.

Manager:

Not only will I hold aloof myself,

But I would also make clear to my friend,

That this design hath neither aim nor sense.

Strader:

I do not wonder thou should’st hold that view

Of any plan in which I am concerned.

I saw a great inception come to grief

Because today the forces still are hid

Which turn clear thought to sense reality.

’Tis known I drew from spirit-light the thought,

Which, though proved true, yet had no life on earth.

This fact doth witness ’gainst my power to judge

And also kills belief that spirit hides

The source of true creation on the earth.

And ’twill be very difficult to prove

That such experience hath giv’n me power

Not to fall victim for the second time.

For I must needs fall into error once

That I may safely reach the land of truth.

Yet ’tis but natural men should doubt my word.

Thy spirit outlook most especially

Must find our wisdom promise little gain.

I hear thee praised for that keen sympathy

Which goes out from thee to all spirit-life,

And for the time and strength thou givest it.

But it is also said that thou wouldst keep

Thy work on earth severely separate

From spirit-striving, which with its own powers

Would work creatively in thy soul-life.

To this pursuit thou wouldst devote alone

Those hours which earthly labour doth not claim.

The aim, however, of the spirit-tide

Where I see clear life’s evolution writ,

Is to join spirit-work for spirit-ends

To earthly labours in the world of sense.

Manager:

So long as spirit but to spirit gives

All it can do in free creative might,

It raiseth souls in human dignity

And gives them reason in their life on earth.

But when it seeks to live out its own self

And over others’ selves to domineer

It straightway doth draw nigh the realm in which

Illusion often can endanger truth.

This knowledge unto which I have attained

By personal effort in the spirit-world

Doth make me act as I do act today;

It is not personal preference, as thou,

Misled by what is said of me, wouldst think.

Strader:

An error ’tis in spirit-knowledge then

That makes thee hostile to the views I hold.

Through this will difficulties multiply.

No doubt ’tis easy for the spirit-seer

To work in partnership with other men

Who have already let themselves be taught

By life and nature what existence means.

But when ideas which claim that they do spring

From spirit sources join reluctantly

With others flowing from the self-same source,

One can but seldom hope for harmony.

Yet that which must will surely come to pass.

Renewed examination of my plans …

Perhaps may make thee change the views, to which

On first consideration thou dost cling.

Johannes:

The towering masses with their silent life

Brim up the air with riddles manifold;

Yet ask no maddening questions such as slay

A soul that asks not for experience

But only for serenity in which

It may behold life’s revelation clear.

See how these colours play among these cliffs,

How calmly dumb the bare expanses lie,

How twilight clothes the woods in green and blue;

This is the world in which Johannes’ soul

Will rest and weave tomorrow’s fantasies.

Johannes’ soul shall feel within itself

The depths and distances of this its world;

And by creative powers this soul shall be

Delivered of its hidden energy

And make known that the world’s enchantment is

Only appearance glorified by art.

Yet could Johannes ne’er accomplish this

Did not Maria through her love awake

With gentle soul-warmth forces in his soul.

I must acknowledge fate’s wise leadership

In drawing me so closely unto her.

How short a time it is since I have known

That she is by my side; how closely knit

Hath been in these few weeks Johannes’ soul

Into a living unity with hers.

As spirit she lives in me though far off;

She thinks within my thought when I call up

Before my soul the objects of my will.

Johannes (continuing):

Maria here before me! but how strange!

She must not thus reveal herself to me!

This stern cold spirit-face, this dignity

That chills my earthly feelings—’tis not thus

Johannes will or can Maria see

Draw nigh to him. ’Tis not Maria—this—

Whom by kind fate’s decree wise powers have sent.

Where is Maria whom Johannes loved

Before she had transformed his soul in him

And led it up to ice-cold spirit-heights?

And where Johannes, whom Maria loved,

Where is he now?—He was at hand e’en now.

I see no more Johannes, who didst give

Me back unto myself with joy. The past

Cannot and shall not rob me of him thus.

Maria:

Maria as thou fain wouldst her behold

Lives not in worlds where shines the light of truth.

Johannes’ spirit treads illusion’s realm

By fantasy misled; set thyself free

From strong desire and its alluring power.

I feel in me the turmoil of thy soul;

It robs me of the calmness that I need.

’Tis not Johannes who directs the storm

Into my soul; it is some other man,

O’er whom he was victorious in the past.

Now as a wraith it roams the spirit-plains;—

Once known for such it straight will fade away.

Johannes:

That is Maria as she really is,

Who of Johannes speaks as he appears

To his own vision at the present time.

Long since into another form he rose

Than that which errant fancy paints for me

Because I am content to let my soul

Amuse itself with dreams in slothful ease.

But not yet doth this being hold me fast.

Escape from him I still can—and I will—

He often calls me to his side and strives

To win me for myself by his own powers—

Yet will I strive to free myself from him.

Long years ago he flooded my soul’s depths

With spirit being; none the less today

No more do I desire to harbour him.

Thou stranger being in Johannes’ soul

Forsake me—give me back my pristine self

Before thou didst commence thy work in me.

I would behold Johannes free of thee.

Benedictus:

Johannes, heed the warning of thy soul;

The man who, flooding thee with spirit, rose

To be thy nature’s primal energy,

Must at thy side still hold his faithful sway

And claim that thou transform his being’s powers

Through thy will into human deeds. He must,

Himself concealed, work out his task in thee;

That thou some day mayst reach what thou dost know

To be thy being’s distant future goal.

Thy personal sorrow thou must bear through life

Fast locked within the chamber of thy soul.

So only shalt thou win thyself, if thou

Dost bravely let him own thee more and more.

Maria (seen as a thought of Johannes):

My holy earnest vow doth beam forth power

Which shall preserve for thee what thou hast won.

Me shalt thou find in those cold fields of ice,

Where spirits must create light for themselves.

When darkness wounds and maims the powers of life

Seek me within those cosmic depths where souls

Wrestle to win God-knowledge for themselves.

By conquest that wins being from the void;

But never seek me in the realm of shades,

Where outlived soul-experience wins by guile

A transient life from out illusion’s web,

And dream’s frail phantoms can the spirit cheat;

So that in pleasure it forgets itself

And looks on serious effort with distaste.

Johannes:

She saith illusion …

… yet ’tis passing fair.

It lives; Johannes feels it in himself,

He feels Maria’s nearness in him too.

Johannes will not know how spirit works

To solve the riddles of the soul’s dark depths.

He will create and will as artists work.

So may that part of him still lie concealed,

Which consciously would gaze on cosmic heights.

Capesius:

Did I not clearly feel within my soul

That which Johannes, dreaming over there,

Wrought as the pictures of his longing heart?

Within me glowed to life thoughts not mine own—

Such as he only could originate.

The being of his soul lived in mine own,

I saw him younger grown, as he beheld

Himself through vain illusion, and did mock

The ripe fruits that his spirit had achieved.

But hold! Why do I now experience this?

For seldom may the spirit-searcher see

The being in himself of other souls.

I mind, that Benedictus often said

That only he—and only for a while—

Can do this, whose good destiny ordains

That he shall be upraised one further step

Upon the spirit path. May I thus read

The meaning of what happened even now?

Seldom indeed could this thing be allowed;

For ’twould be terrible if aye the seer

Could see the inner being of men’s souls.

Did I see truly?—or could it have been

Illusion let me dream another’s soul?

I must enquire from Johannes himself.

Johannes:

Capesius—I thought thee far from here.

Capesius:

Yet my soul felt itself quite near to thine.

Johannes:

Near mine—at such a time—it cannot be!

Capesius:

Why dost thou shudder at these words of mine?

Johannes:

I do not shudder …

I do not shudder … how his steady glance

Doth pierce me to mine inmost depths of soul.

Capesius (to himself):

His shudder shows me that I saw aright.

Maria, thou dost come in fitting time.

Perhaps thy tongue may speak some word of cheer.

To solve the problem which oppresseth me.

Maria:

I thought to find Johannes here, not thee.

Foreboding bade me seek the problem’s weight

In him—but thou, I fancied, wast content,

Devoted to that glorious enterprise

Which we are offered here by Hilary.

Capesius:

What care I for it? It disturbs me now—

Maria:

Disturbs thee? Didst thou not express delight

To think thy projects might be realized?

Capesius:

What I have lived through in this fateful hour

Hath changed the former purpose of my soul,

Since all activity in work on earth

Must rob me of my new clairvoyant powers.

Maria:

Whoe’er is suffered to tread spirit-ways

Finds many a hint to shape his destiny.

On soul paths he will try to follow them,

Yet they have not been rightly understood

If they disturb his duties on the earth.

Lucifer:

Thine effort will not bring thee much reward.

New force begins to stir within his heart

That opes the portal of his soul to me.

Maria, gaze with thy clairvoyant sight

Upon his inmost soul; and there behold

How he doth free himself on spirit-wings

From thy warm loving bonds of work on earth.

Maria:

If on the spirit-path Johannes felt

The nature of his duties hinder him,

’Twould not be right, though so it might appear.

He needs must work upon the outer plane.

Thy task is to expound the spirit-lore

To other men and such a task as this

Cannot impede the progress of thy soul.

Capesius:

Far more than when they work on outer things

Do spirit forces lose themselves in words.

Words make one reason o’er what one has seen,

And reason is a foe to seership’s power.

I had a spirit-vision even now

Which only could disclose itself to me

Because the soul which was revealed to me,

Although our earthly bodies are close friends,

Had never been by me quite understood

If I saw truly, I am no more bound

By any ties unto this work of earth.

For I must feel persuaded that high Powers

Now set another goal before my soul

Than that prescribed for it by Hilary.

Capesius:

Johannes, tell me truly, didst thou not

A while ago feel old, outlived desires

That lived within thee like thy present self,

While thou wast lost in meditation deep?

Johannes:

Can then my spirit’s struggle work to form

Experience within another’s soul?

And can such vision make mine error strong

To find its way to life in cosmic space?

Lucifer:

Here too I find the soul’s gate open wide.

I’ll not delay but use this chance at once.

If also in this soul a spirit-wish

Is born, that work of love must come to naught

Which doth bode ill to me through Hilary.

I can destroy Maria’s might in him:

And thus can add her power unto mine own.

Capesius:

My doubts dissolve—that which I saw was true;

I was allowed to see Johannes’ life.

So is it also clear that his world could

Only unfold itself because mine own

Would never draw near his and comprehend

The spirit-path doth ask for solitude.

Co-operation is but meant for those

Who comprehend each others’ hopes and aims.

A soul which sets humanity aside

Attains the wide bounds of the worlds of light.

A pattern in old Felix can I find,

He seeks on paths that none but he may know

In proud seclusion for the spirit-light.

He sought and found because he kept himself

From ever grasping things by reason’s strength.

In his track will I follow, and thy work,

Which hampers seership’s power with earthly things,

Shall no more lead Capesius astray.

Maria:

So ’tis with man, what time his better self

Sinks into spirit-sleep and strong desire

Is all his being’s food; until again

True spirit-nature wakes in glowing light.

Such is the sleep all human beings sleep

Before clairvoyant powers have wakened them.

They know not they are sleeping, though awake;

They seem awake, because they ever sleep.

The seer doth sleep, when to this waking state

He struggles forth from out his real self.

Capesius will now withdraw from us.

It is no transient whim; his mental life

Draws him away from us and from our plans.

It is not he that turns himself from us.

The dread decree of fate is plainly seen.

And so we who are left must consecrate

Our powers with more devotion to our work.

Johannes:

Maria, do not of Johannes ask

That for new aims at such a time as this

He should gird up his soul, which like all souls

Needs spirit-sleep in which it may mature

The forces which are germinating there.

I know that I in time to come shall dare

To work for spirit-worlds—but do not now

Appeal to me for services—not now.

Think how I drove away Capesius …

Were I ripe for this work—he would be, too.

Maria:

Capesius away? Dost thou not—dream?

Johannes:

I dreamed while conscious … yea, I woke in dreams.

What would seem fantasy to cosmic powers

To me proved symbol that I was mature.

Right well I know my wish was my true self;

My thinking only was another self.

And so Johannes stood before my soul

As once he was, ere spirit seized on him

And filled his being with a second self.

Johannes is not dead;… a living wish

Createth him companion of my soul.

I may have stunned him, but not overthrown.

A living man, he claims his natural rights

Whene’er that other self must sink to sleep.

And to wake—always that—exceeds its powers.

Asleep it was throughout that time in which

Capesius could live within himself.

How my first nature tore me from myself.

My dreams did seem to him the sign of fate;

And so in me and not in him doth work

The power which drove him forth, and which forbids

Our spirit to be turned to work on earth.

Maria:

The spirit-powers are coming—call on them.

To cosmic spirit-sources turn thy gaze

And wait until the powers within those depths

Discover that within thine own true self

Which stirs with conscious life akin to theirs.

Their magic words will show thine inward sight

That which makes them and thee a unity.

Cast out thine own brain’s interfering speech,

That spirit may speak in thee as it wills;

And to this spirit-speech give thou due heed.

’Twill carry thee beyond the spheres of light

And link thee to true spirit-essence there.

Thy misty visions sprung from times long past

Will then grow sharp and clear in cosmic light,

But will not bind thee since thou hast control.

Compare them with these elemental forms,

With shadows and with phantoms of all kinds,

And place them near to demons manifold

And so discover what they really are.

But in the realm of spirits root thyself

Who primal source to primal source do bind,

Who dwell close linked with dormant cosmic powers

And order the processions of the spheres.

This view of cosmic things will give thee strength,

Amid the surging sea of spirit-life,

To blend thyself and inmost soul in one.

The spirit bids me tell thee this myself;

But now give ear to what thou knowest well

Though ’tis not wedded yet to thy soul-depths.

Johannes (still sitting on a rock to right of stage. He collects himself for a determined effort):

I will give ear—I will defy myself.

Chorus of the Gnomes (dancing, hopping, and gesticulating in rhythm):

We harden, we strengthen (said sharply and quickly)

The nebulous earth-dust;

We loosen, we powder

Hard-crusted, earth-boulders;

Swift shatter we the hard,

Slow harden we the loose.

Such is our spirit-kind.

Of mental matter formed

Full-skilled were we before

When human souls still slept (said slowly and dreamily)

And dreamed when earth began.

Chorus of the Sylphs (a swaying motion in rhythm):

We weave and we unweave

The web of watery air;

We scatter and divide

Seed forces from the sun;

Light-force condense with care;

Fruit-powers destroy with skill;

For such is our soul-kind

From rays of feeling poured,

Which ever-living glows

That mankind may enjoy

Earth-evolution’s sense.

Chorus of the Gnomes (dancing, hopping, and gesticulating in rhythm):

We titter and we laugh (said sharply and quickly)

We banter and grimace,

When stumbling human sense

And fumbling human mind

Beholds what we have made;

They think they understand

When spirits from our age

Weave charms for their dull eyes (said slowly and emphatically).

Chorus of the Sylphs (a swaying motion in rhythm):

We take care, and we tend,

Bear fruit and in spirit,

When young mankind’s dawn-life

And old mankind’s errors

Consume what we have made

And childlike or greyhaired

Find in time’s stream dull joy

From our eternal plans.

Philia:

They ray out the light

As loving light-forms

To ripeness so blest,

So gently they warm

And mightily heat

Where embryo growth

Would reach actual life;

That this actual life,

May make souls rejoice

Who lovingly yield

To radiant light.

Astrid:

’Tis life that they weave,

And help create,

In up-springing men,

They shatter the earth

And densify air;

That change may appear

In strenuous growth.

Such strenuous growth

Fills spirits with joy

Who feel that they weave

A life which creates.

Luna:

They thoughtfully mould,

Alert to create

In flexible stuff;

They sharpen the edge

And flatten the face,

And cunningly build

The clearly-cut forms;

That clearly-cut forms

The will may inspire

With cunning to build,

Alert to create.

The Other Philia:

They gather the blooms

And use without care

The magical works;

They dream of the true

And guard ’gainst the false;

That germs which lie hid

May wake into life.

And clairvoyant dreams

Make clear unto souls

The magical web

That forms their own life.

Johannes:

‘And clairvoyant dreams

Make clear unto souls

The magical web

That forms their own life.’

These are the words that still distinctly ring

Within my soul; that which I saw before

Passed in confusion out of my soul’s ken.

Yet what a power stirs in me, when I think;

‘The magical web

That forms their own life.’

The Spirit of Johannes’ Youth:

The life within thy wishes feeds my life,

My breath drinks thirstily thy youthful dreams;

I am alive when thou dost not desire

To force thy way to worlds I cannot find.

If in thyself thou losest me, I must

Do grievous painful service to grim shades:—

O guardian of my life … forsake me not.

Lucifer:

He never will forsake thee,—I behold

Deep in his nature longings after light

Which cannot follow in Maria’s steps.

And when the radiance which is born of them

Doth fully light Johannes’ artist-soul

It must bear fruit; nor will he be content

To cast this fruit away in yonder realm

Where love divorced from beauty reigns alone.

His self will no more seem of worth to him

Which fain would cast his best gifts to the shades

Because it sets by knowledge too much store.

When wisdom shall throw light on his desires

Their glorious worth will be revealed to him;

He only can think them of little worth

So long as they hide darkly in the soul.

Until they can attain to wisdom’s light

I will be thy protector—through the light

I find deep-seated in the human soul.

He has as yet no pity for thy woes,

And ever lets thee sink among the shades

When he is striving up the heights of light.

For then he can forget that thou, his child,

Must lead a miserable phantom life.

But henceforth, thou wilt find me at thy side

When as a shade thou freezest through his fault.

I will exert my rights as Lucifer

Reserved to me by ancient cosmic law,

And occupy those depths within his soul

He leaves unguarded in his spirit-flight.

I’ll bring thee treasure that will light for thee

The dark seclusion of the shadow-realms.

But thou wilt not be fully freed till he

Can once again unite himself with thee.

This act he can delay … but not prevent.

For Lucifer will well protect his rights.

Theodora:

Thou spirit-child, thou liv’st Johannes’ youth

In gloomy shadow-realms. To thee in love

Bends down the soul which o’er Johannes broods

From realms ablaze with light, aglow with love.

She will from thine enchantment set thee free

If thou wilt take so much of what she feels

As shall procure thee life in blessedness.

I will ally thee with the elements

Which labour unaware in cosmic space

Withdrawing ever far from waking souls.

With those earth-spirits thou canst fashion forms,

And with the fire-souls thou canst ray out power,

If thou wilt sacrifice thy conscious life

Unto the will that works with light and power

But without human wisdom. So shalt thou

Preserve thy knowledge, only half thine own,

From Lucifer, and to Johannes give

The services which are of worth to him.

From his soul’s being I will bring to thee

What causeth him to crave thy being’s aid,

And find refreshment in the spirit-sleep.

Lucifer:

But beauty she can ne’er bestow on thee

Since I myself dare take it far from her.

Theodora:

From noble feeling I will find the germ

Of beauty which grows ripe through sacrifice.

Lucifer:

From free-will she will tear thee and instead

Give thee to spirits who dwell in the dark.

Theodora:

I shall awaken sight by spirit filled

That e’en from Lucifer knows itself free.

The Other Philia:

And clairvoyant dreams

Make clear unto souls

The magical web

That forms their own life.

Johannes:

Thou riddle-speaking spirit—at thy words

This world I entered! Of its mysteries

One only—is important for my soul:

Whether, as living in the spirit worlds,

The shadow dwells who sought with Lucifer

And Theodora to be shown to me.

The Other Philia:

He lives—and by thyself was waked to life.

E’en as a glass in pictures doth reflect

All things by light upon its surface thrown

So must whate’er in spirit-realms thou see’st—

Ere full maturity gives thee the right

To such clairvoyance—mirrored be in life

Within the realm of half-waked spirit-shades.

Johannes:

’Tis but a picture, mirrored thus by me?

The Other Philia:

Yet one that lives and keeps its hold on life

So long as thou dost keep within thyself

An outlived self which thou indeed canst stun

But which as yet thou canst not overthrow.

Johannes, thine awakening is but false

Until thou shalt thyself set free the shade

Whom thine offence doth lend a magic life.

Johannes:

What thanks I owe this spirit, who brings truth

Into my soul—I needs must follow it.