Chapter V: Introduction (5)

(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.

SCENE 6

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

FIRST COUNTRYMAN:

See yon vile Jew; he surely will not 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.

(Exeunt the countryfolk.)

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

SIMON:

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

(Exit into the wood.)

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

THOMAS:

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

(The Monk comes up to him.)

MONK:

I greet thee heartily, most valiant son.
Thou hast come here in search of solitude.
Thy work well done, thou wouldst have peace and 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.

Curtain

SCENE 7

A chamber in the castle whose exterior was shown in the preceding scene. Decorated throughout with symbols of a Mystic Brotherhood. (For costumes, see note on page 145.) Columns, arches, and vaulted roof with the mystic symbols shown in the Author's 'Occult Symbols.' First the Knights assemble; then the Monk and one of the Knights; later appears the spirit of Benedictus who has passed away about fifty years earlier. Then Lucifer and Ahriman. The Grand Master seated with four Brothers at a long table.

GRAND MASTER:

Ye who are joined with me in comradeship
To seek the goal appointed unto man,
And bring that knowledge from the spirit-realm
Into the scope of earth's activities,
As is appointed to our brotherhood,
Must also truly help me in this hour
When heavy trials impend. Then, know ye all
That since our venerated master fell,
A victim by the Powers of Darkness claimed,
Who draw their strength from Evil, helping on
The plan of Wisdom by their natural means,
That is by means of Opposition's strength,
Since Wisdom turneth Evil into Good:
Since that sad loss we strive on earth in vain,
For many a castle of our brotherhood
Hath by our enemies been overwhelmed,
And many brothers dear to us have fallen
In fight, and followed our great Master home
Into the realm of everlasting light.
For us too doth the hour approach apace
When these stout walls that shelter us shall fall.
Our foes already spy the country round
To find a pretext under which they may
Rob us of our possessions, ne'er acquired
For our own use, but as a means to draw
Around us individuals, in whose souls
We could implant the germs of things to come.
These germs shall ripen when those men themselves
Find their way back from out the spirit-land
To live anew in future days on earth.

FIRST MASTER OF CEREMONIES:

That this our brotherhood should be o'erthrown
By some obscure design of destiny,
Is something nowise inconceivable.
But that the fall of our community
Should doom so many brothers' single lives,
Would seem to contravene the cosmic law.
I do not wish my words to make complaint,
Since willingly our brothers suffer death.
But still my soul desires to comprehend
The sacrifice demanded from these men
Who have allied themselves unto a whole,
Because the powers of destiny decree
The overthrow and ruin of that whole.

GRAND MASTER:

The separate life of individual men
Is linked most wisely to the world's design.
Amongst our brothers there will surely be
Some who have given proof of competence
To serve our brotherhood with their soul's power
And yet whose nature still shows many a stain.
The errors and misdeeds of such a heart
Must find their expiation in the pain
Suffered by it in service for the whole
And he who, blameless both in act and deed,
Must none the less walk in the thorny way
Traced by the Karma of the brotherhood,
Will find his pain requited by the power
To mount aloft unto the higher life.

FIRST MASTER OF CEREMONIES:

So then the brotherhood may tolerate
Within its ranks souls not yet purified
Who vow themselves to its exalted aims?

GRAND MASTER:

He who to lofty works is dedicate
Doth mark alone the goodness in men's souls;
He lets the evil work its ransom out
As cosmic justice in its course decides.
My brothers, I have bid you meet me here
In order to remind you with grave words
That we have duties in our days of grief.
We must be ready to lay down our lives
For those high purposes to which we swore
Lifelong allegiance. Ye then are indeed
My brothers, if undauntedly your souls
Repeat the motto of our brotherhood:
'Both separateness and life must be forsworn
By those who would set eyes on spirit-goals
Through occult senses unto them revealed;
Who dare to let the spirit's will pour down
And flood their individual purposes.'

FIRST PRECEPTOR:

Exalted Master, shouldst thou deign to test
The heart of each man in our brotherhood,
It would repeat that motto loud and clear!--
Yet do we beg thee to explain to us
Why, not content with robbing us of life
And our possessions, now our enemies
Would rob us also of those humble souls
Whom we have tended with unselfish love.
For every day affords new evidence
That not alone compulsion makes our folk
Submit themselves unto our conquerors;
But that indeed they too have learned to hate
The spirit-path which we had shown to them.

GRAND MASTER:

That which we have implanted in men's souls
May die indeed today; but these same men,
Who once have breathed our spirit-radiance,
Will come again to earth, and then bestow
Upon the world the fruitage of our work.
Thus speaks unto my spirit oftentimes
Our mighty leader from the realm of death,
When in my quiet hours, I do sink down
Into my soul's deep places, and arouse
Strength to abide awhile in spirit-lands.
Then may I feel the master's presence near
And hear his words, as in the life of sense
I often heard them. Never doth he speak
About our work as drawing to a close;
But only of fulfilment of our aims
In later days that are to come on earth.

(Exeunt the Grand Master and two Brothers.)

FIRST PRECEPTOR:

He speaks of spirit-worlds in just such words
As men may speak of villages or towns....
The way in which our loftiest brothers speak
Of other states of life oppresseth me.
And yet I am devoted fervently
Unto the progress of our earthly aims.

SECOND MASTER OF CEREMONIES:

My firm reliance is our master's words.
The man who cannot hear with perfect faith
The tale of spirit and of spirit-worlds,--
Is nowise lacking in the faculties
To grasp a revelation of this kind.
The things he lacks are of a different mould.
He may well guess, unwilling to admit,
That he is conscious of unworthiness
To be a member of the higher worlds.
A soul must be defiled by secret stain
And eager to deny that they are there,
That will not bow before the spirit-lore.

(Exeunt.)

(Enter the Monk; the Second Preceptor enters and steps up to him.)

SECOND PRECEPTOR:

What errand bringeth thee to this our house
Which is for thee the home of enemies?

MONK:

I must include amongst my friends all those
Who bear the form of men. This is our rule.
But hostile thou mayst well esteem the claim
Which I, by duty bound, must here present.
Those who are over me have sent me here.
And their desire is that the property
Belonging to the Church, as by old deeds
Is well attested, should be given back
To them without dispute. Yon tract of ground
Upon which ye have sunk your mine, belongs
In law and equity unto the Church.
The manner in which ye possessed yourselves
Of this estate confers no legal rights.

SECOND PRECEPTOR:

Whether in law we have a right to call
It ours or no, would constitute a case
For legal disputation long drawn out.
But certain 'tis that it belongs to us
If we refer it to a higher law.
Yon tract of ground was lying lost and waste
When it was purchased by our brotherhood:
Not e'en an inkling had ye of the fact
That far below rich treasure lay concealed.
This have we won for human industry.
Its treasures travel far and wide today
To distant lands, to further human weal.
And many honest souls are now at work
In shaft and tunnel underneath the ground
Which in your hands lay waste and desolate.

MONK:

Then it doth not seem fair and right to thee
To urge upon thy brotherhood the need
Of peaceably accepting our demand
That so we may regain our property?

SECOND PRECEPTOR:

Since we are not aware of any guilt,
But are convinced our cause is wholly just,
We can but wait in quiet confidence
To see if ye are really bent on strife,
When as before, yourselves are in the wrong.

MONK:

Then will ye have to thank your headstrong will
If we are driven to a sterner course.

SECOND PRECEPTOR:

The honour of our brotherhood demands
That only when defeated, sword in hand,
Do we allow ourselves to be despoiled.

MONK:

So be it! Now my mission is fulfilled.
Between us there is no more need of words.
Will it be possible for me to have
An audience with thy lord, who here commands?

SECOND PRECEPTOR:

The master doubtless will concede thee this;
Yet wait, I pray three, for a little while.
He cannot at this moment come to thee.

(Exit.)

MONK:

O, that mine office forceth me to tread
The halls of this detested brotherhood.
Turn where they may, my eyes must contemplate
Sinful devices and satanic spells.
Almost a horror seizeth hold on me;
A crackling and a rumbling fill the air;
I feel the powers of ill are gathered round.

(Noises heard.)

But as my conscience is entirely clear
I will defy the enemy.

(Noises heard.)

Oh, this
Is terrible....

(The spirit of Benedictus appears.)

Defend me, Saints in Heaven!

BENEDICTUS:

Collect thyself, my son. I often came
To meet thee, when the fervour of thy prayers
Transported thee unto the spirit-world.
Take therefore courage in this present hour
And learn a truth which thou must realize
If spirit clearness is to hold its sway
And drive away the darkness from thy soul.

MONK:

When in my trials I prayed to Heaven for light,
And when my supplication winged its way
To realms celestial, and won response,
Thou, venerated master, didst appear.
Thou, who wast aye our Order's ornament,
The while thou wert amongst us here on earth,
And out of higher realms didst speak to me,
Enlightening my mind and strengthening me.
My soul beheld thee with its inner eye,
My spirit ear was open to thy words.
In this hour also then, will I receive
The revelation with humility
Which thou shalt cause to flow into my soul.

BENEDICTUS:

Thou art within that brotherhood's abode
Whom thou dost charge with wicked heresies.
They seem to hate what we are taught to love
And hold in honour what we count as sin.
Our brethren feel themselves in duty bound
To haste the spirit-brethren's overthrow,
And think their action sanctioned by the words
I spake myself whilst I was still on earth.
Yet do they not imagine that these words
Can only hold the living truth so long
As they are rightly acted on by those
Who have been my successors in my work.
So let those thoughts which I once held on earth
Rise up afresh and live within thy soul
In harmony with needs of newer times.
And thus behold this Order, which doth seek
Its goal in mystic realms, as I should judge
And look on it, if it had been my lot
To dwell on earth and work with thee today.
This brotherhood is vowed to lofty aims.
These individuals who have joined its ranks
Have premonitions of the days to come;
Their leaders see with a prophetic eye
The fruits that shall grow ripe in future times;
Science and daily life shall undergo
A change of form and seek ideals new;
And what this brotherhood doth now achieve,
Whom thou hast lent a hand to persecute,
Are deeds which serve to bring this change about.
Alone by peaceful union of the aims
Sought by our brethren and these heretics
Can good be made to blossom on this earth.

MONK:

This warning, of which I am worthy found,
How can I act upon it? It departs
Amazingly from all that I have held,
Up to this moment, to be right and good.

(Ahriman and Lucifer appear.)

But other beings now are drawing nigh!
Why do they come and stand beside thee now?

AHRIMAN:

This further message comes from other realms.
It cannot seem an easy thing for thee
Thy predecessor's bidding to obey.
Reflect--he dwells in everlasting bliss.
And actions by decree and duty there
Desirable, may well upon the earth
Lead to confusion at the present time.
Lift up thine eyes to where he dwells on high
If thou wouldst seek for comfort from the bliss
That, when the latter days of earth draw near,
By cosmic spirits is to be bestowed.
But if at present thou wouldst act aright,
Be guided only, in the choice of paths,
By that which reason and the senses teach.
Thou hast been able clearly to discern
The sinful ways of yonder brotherhood
Which they would fain keep secret from the world;
Thus hast thou learned that laws for future life
Can well be framed by souls now steeped in sin!
How canst thou wish, now that thou knowst these things,
To live in friendship with the brotherhood?
For error is a poor and sterile soil
Where good fruit cannot come to ripening.

LUCIFER:

Thy pious mind hath shown the road to thee.
It is most true that times and objects change;
But none the less 'tis not for heretics
To trace the paths on which mankind must tread.
The error of this spirit-brotherhood
Is dangerous, because it speaks the truth,
And yet expresses it in such a way
As makes the truth more deadly than a lie.
A man who openly avowed he lied
Would have to be bereft of common sense
'Ere he could bring himself to such belief
That men would gladly follow where he led.
The spirit-knights indeed are shrewd of mind;
They do not fail to speak about the Christ
Because this name can open every door
That gives admission to the souls of men.
But ever can men easiest be led
Into the service of the Antichrist
When in the name of Christ he is proclaimed.

MONK:

Conflicting voices from the world of souls
Assail mine ears, as often heretofore,
And always with an aim to counteract
The pious promptings of a mind devout.
How shall I find the paths that lead to good
If by the Powers of Evil they be praised?
Almost it seems to me as if indeed...;
But no, such words shall not be thought by me--,
The wisdom of my master shall reveal
The meaning of his words, so dark to me.

BENEDICTUS:

I can direct thee to the proper path,
If thou wilt let the words which once I spake
On earth possess thee in thine inmost soul.
And if thou art resolved to find the life
That lives within those words upon those planes
On which thou now canst see me face to face,
The proper path shall be made plain to thee.

Curtain, while the Monk, the Spirit of Benedictus, Lucifer, and Ahriman are still on the stage

SCENE 8

The same. The First Preceptor; Joseph Keane; then the Grand Master with Simon; later the First and the Second Master of Ceremonies. Joseph Keane is there first; the Preceptor approaches him.

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:

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.

(The Preceptor loses control over himself.)

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 will come.

(Exit.)

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.

(Exit.)

(After an interval the Grand Master and Simon enter.)

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.

(Exeunt.)

(After an interval, the two Masters of Ceremonies enter.)

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: