SCENE 5
A mountain glade, in which is situated Felix Balde's solitary cottage. Evening. Dame Felicia Balde, Capesius, then Felix Balde; later on Johannes and his Double; afterwards Lucifer and Ahriman. Dame Felicia is seated on a bench in front of her cottage.
CAPESIUS (arriving, approaches her):
I know an old friend will not ask in 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
(Felix Balde comes out of the house.)
Hour upon hour on end, as oft he doth, I long for those old days of which I spake. How oft would Felix earnestly 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:
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.
(Stands up and departs; Felix and Dame Felicia go into the house.)
CAPESIUS (alone and at some distance):
I feel the health that such a picture brings Into my soul, and how to all my thoughts It can restore the forces they had lost. Simple the tale unfolded by the dame, And yet it rouseth powers of thought in me That carry me away to worlds unknown.... Therefore will I in this fair solitude Myself to dreams abandon, which so oft Have sought to usher thoughts into my soul, Thoughts which have proved themselves of higher worth Than many a fruit of weeks of close research.
(He disappears behind some thick bushes. Enter Johannes, sunk in deep thought.)
JOHANNES TO HIMSELF:
Was this some dream, or was it truth indeed? I cannot bear the words my friend just 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.
(He feels as if he were rooted to the ground.)
What are the bonds that hold me prisoner And chain me, as with fetters, to this place?
(The Double of Johannes Thomasius appears.)
Ah!--whosoe'er thou art; if human 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:
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:
I have lent Full oft unto thy words a listening ear. I seemed to draw them up into my soul As 'twere some message from the spirit-world. But more than any scene thy words disclosed I loved to have thy body close to mine. And when thou spakst of soul-paths I was filled With rapture that went leaping through my veins.
(The voice of conscience speaks.)
CONSCIENCE:
This is the 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.
(Enter Lucifer and Ahriman.)
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.
(Lucifer and Ahriman vanish; the Double also. Johannes walks, deep in thought, into the dark recesses of the forest. Capesius appears again. He has, from his post behind the bushes, watched the scene between Johannes and the Double as if it were a vision.)
CAPESIUS:
What have I seen and heard! It lay on me Just like some nightmare. Came Thomasius Walking like one who is absorbed in thought; Then he stood still; it seemed as if he talked With someone, and yet no one else was there. I felt o'ercome as by some deadly fear; And saw no more of what went on around. As if I were asleep, and unaware, I must have sunk into yon picture-world Which I can now so clearly call to mind. It can indeed have been but little time I sat and dreamed, unconscious of myself; And yet, how rich was yonder world of dreams, What strange impressions doth it make on me. Persons were there who lived in bygone days, I plainly saw them move and heard them speak. I dreamed about a spirit-brotherhood Which strove with steadfast purpose to attain Unto the heights which crown humanity. Among them I could clearly see myself, And all that happened was familiar too. A dream ..., yet most unnerving was that dream. I know that in this life I certainly Can ne'er have learned to know the like of it. And each impression that it leaves behind Reacts like very life upon my soul. Those pictures draw me with resistless power...; O if I could but dream that dream again.
Curtain, whilst Capesius remains standing
The following four scenes represent events taking place during the first third of the XIVth century.
Their contents will show what Capesius, Thomasius, and Maria saw on looking back at their last incarnation.