Four Mystery Plays
GA 14
The Soul's Probation (Written 1911)
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 to-day.
Capesius (who has seated himself):
Even of onetime 'twas not granted me
To bring much merriment into thy home;
But special patience must I crave to-day
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!
To many men lending 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 strangers welcome 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 revealed 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 form as it before us stands,
The soul through which we live and feel and strive,
The spirit that 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 products of divine activities.
Felix:
And so a man who sets himself to learn
True spirit science must be meek indeed.
Whoso, in vanity, self knowledge seeks,
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 wellnigh
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 concern.
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 visions 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 to depart; Felix and Dame Felicia go into the house.)
(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
That I must wander o'er a path whereon
Her light doth shed no more 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 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 (as if to Maria):
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 (as if to Maria):
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 secret fire
Of passionate desire.
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,
Which still deluded by thy personal self
Thou thinkest falsely that thou hast attained.
(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 wilt not remain
In all humility
Within my bounds.
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
Fünftes Bild
(Eine Landschaft, in welcher sich das einsame Haus Baldes befindet. Abendstimmung. Frau Balde, Capesius, dann Felix Balde; später Johannes und dessen Doppelgänger, hernach Lucifer und Ahriman.)
Capesius (ankommend, und sich einer Bank nähernd vor Balde’s Haus, auf welcher Frau Balde sitzt):
Erlaubt Ihr wohl, daß Euer alter Freund
Ein wenig weilen darf bei Euch?
Er braucht jetzt mehr als je vorher,
was er so oft in eurem Hause fand.
Frau Balde:
Schon als ich Euch von ferne kommen sah,
erzählten eure müden Schritte mir,
und da Ihr näher tratet, Euer Auge auch,
daß Leid in eurer Seele heute wohnt.
Capesius (der sich gesetzt hat):
Viel Heiterkeit in Euer Heim zu bringen,
es war auch sonst mir nicht gegeben;
doch heute bitt’ ich um besondre Nachsicht,
wenn ich mit meinem friedelosen Herzen
das Heim des Friedens überfalle.
Frau Balde:
Ihr waret damals schon so gerne hier gesehen,
als kaum ein andrer Mensch
in dieses Hauses Nähe kam. –
Trotz manchem, was sich zwischen uns gestellt,
seid Ihr uns Freund geblieben,
auch jetzt, da unsre weltenferne Stätte
gar mancher gerne sucht.
Capesius:
So ist denn wahr, was ich gehört,
daß Euer lieber Felix,
der vordem so verschlossen war,
in diesen Tagen ist geworden
ein vielgesuchter Mann?
Frau Balde:
Ach ja, der gute Felix
verschloß uns einst vor aller Welt – –,
Und jetzt muß er so vielen Leuten Rede stehn.
Als seine Pflicht erscheint dies neue Leben ihm.
In frühern Tagen wollte er
dem eignen Innern nur vertraun,
was Wald und Fels ihm offenbarten
von Geistestaten und Naturgewalten.
Auch schien es früher keinem Menschen wissenswert.
‒ ‒ ‒ ‒ ‒ ‒ ‒ ‒ ‒ ‒ ‒ ‒ ‒ ‒ ‒ ‒ ‒ ‒
Wie hat die Zeit sich doch verändert!
Es hören jetzt recht viele Menschen
Gar gierig auf die Wissenschaft,
die Felix ihnen offenbaren kann,
und die sie vorher doch nur töricht fanden.
Und wenn mein lieber guter Mann
(Felix Balde kommt aus dem Haus)
oft stundenlang erzählen muß,
dann sehn’ ich mich nach alten Zeiten,
in denen Felix mir so ernst bedeutet hat,
wie nur im stillen Herzen tragen soll
die Seele ihre Geistesgaben,
die ihr aus Götterreichen
in Gnade sind verliehn –,
und daß Verräter wird am hohen Geistesworte,
wer solchem Ohr es offenbart,
das nur der Sinnenwelt erschlossen ist.
Felix Balde:
Felicia kann nur recht schwer sich finden
in unser ganz verändert Leben.
Sie hat die alte Einsamkeit beklagt;
und klagt nicht minder jetzt,
da wir so manchen Tag nur wenig Stunden
noch für uns selber haben.
Capesius:
Und was hat Euch bewogen,
das früher so verschlossne Haus
den Menschen gastlich zu eröffnen?
Felix Balde:
Gehorsam folgte ich der Geistesführung,
die mir im Herzen spricht,
als sie zu schweigen mir gebot.
Und jetzt, da sie mich reden heißt,
will ich ihr gleich ergeben sein.
Der Menschheit Wesen ändert sich
im Werdegang des Erdenseins.
An einem Zeitenwendepunkte stehen wir.
Es muß ein Teil der Geisterkenntnis
erschlossen werden allen Menschen,
die ihr Gemüt ihr öffnen wollen. –
Ich weiß, wie wenig meine Art entspricht
den Formen, die man heute gelten läßt. ‒ ‒
Um auszusprechen, was im Geiste lebt,
verordnet man die strengste Logik und Gedankenfügung.
Sie werden meinen Reden abgesprochen.
Man sagt, daß wahrer Wissenschaft,
die nur auf festen Stützen ruhen soll,
mein Wesen bloß als Beispiel dienen kann,
wie Menschen-Seelen träumen,
wenn sie, der Wissenschaft und Bildung fremd,
auf eignen Wegen Weisheit suchen.
doch sei es wertvoll, meinen manche,
wie durch die Wirrnis meiner Worte
zuweilen etwas zu entdecken ist,
daß mit Vernunft sich fassen läßt.
Ich bin ein Mann, dem ohne Kunst
ins Herz muß strömen,
was sich ihm offenbaren mag.
Ich kenne nicht ein Wissen ohne Worte. –
Wenn ich in Herzenstiefen Einkehr halte,
und auch, wenn ich Natur belausche,
so lebt in mir das Wissen,
das Worte nicht erst suchen muß – ‒ ‒;
Die Sprache ist ihm so verbunden,
wie seine Leibesform dem Erdenmenschen. –
Ein Wissen, das in dieser Art
Aus Geisteswelten sich uns offenbart,
ist nützlich auch den Menschen, die es nicht verstehn.
Es soll deshalb ein jeder zu mir kommen dürfen,
der hören will, was ich zu sagen habe.
Ich weiß recht gut, wie nur die Neugierd’
Und andre wenig gute Gründe viele leiten.
Auch wenn die Seelen solcher Menschen
in dieser Erdenzeit noch nicht ergriffen werden:
es wird das Gute in sie eingepflanzt,
und wird in ihnen weiter wirken.
Capesius:
Ich möchte offen mit Euch sprechen. – ‒ ‒
Seit vielem Jahren muß ich Euch bewundern.
Doch war auch mir der Sinn bisher verschlossen,
der Euren sonderbaren Worten eigen ist.
Felix Balde:
Er wird sich Euch gewiß erschließen.
Ihr strebt mit gutem Geist und edlem Herzen;
da müssen auch die Zeiten kommen,
wo Ihr der Wahrheit Stimme hört.
Ihr achtet nicht, wie inhaltreich
Der Mensch als Bild der Weltenreiche ist.
Sein Haupt, es ist des Himmels Spiegelbild;
durch seine Glieder wirken Sphärengeister;
in seiner Brust bewegen Erdenwesen sich;
und allen stehn entgegen, machtvoll ringend,
Dämonen aus dem Mondbereich,
die jener Wesen Ziele kreuzen müssen.
Was als ein Menschenwesen vor uns steht,
was als die Seele wir erleben,
was als der Geist uns leuchtet:
es schwebte vielen Göttern vor seit Ewigkeiten,
und ihre Absicht war,
aus ihren Welten Kräfte zu verbinden,
Capesius:
Fast ängstlich werde ich bei diesem Wort,
das kühn als alle Götterleistung
des Menschen Wesenheit betrachten will.
Felix Balde:
Darum ist höchste Demut jedem nötig,
der Geisteswissenschaft erlangen will.
Und wer in Hochmut und in Eitelkeit
sich selbst erkennen will,
dem öffnen sich die Wissenspforten nicht.
Capesius:
Wie schon so oft, wird mir auch dieses Mal
Die liebe Frau Felicia wohl helfen,
daß meine Seele sich zum Bilde wende
und, an dem Bild erwarmend, eure Worte
in rechter Art zu fassen fähig wird.
Frau Balde:
Es hat der liebe Felix
mir öfter schon die Worte wiederholt,
die er soeben sprach.
Sie lösten aus dem Herzen mir
ein Bild, von dem ich mir schon immer sagte,
ich müßt’ es Euch erzählen.
Capesius:
O tut es, liebe Frau – ‒,
mich dürstet nach Erquickung
aus eurem Bilderschatze.
Frau Balde:
Es sei – ‒ ‒ ‒ ‒.
Es war einmal ein Knabe,
der wuchs als armer Förstersleute einzig Kind
in Waldeseinsamkeit heran. –
Er lernte außer seinen Eltern
nur wenige Menschen kennen.
Er war von schwachem Gliederbau;
durchscheinend fast war seine Haut.
Man konnte lang ins Aug’ ihm schaun;
es barg die tiefsten Geisteswunder.
Und wenn auch wenig Menschen nur
Des Knaben Lebenskreis betraten,
Es fehlte ihm an Freunden nicht.
Wenn in den nahen Bergen
Erglühte golden Sonnenhelle,
Dann sog des Knaben sinnend Auge
Das Geistesgold in seine Seele ein;
Und seines Herzens Wesen,
Es ward so morgensonnengleich. ‒
Doch wenn durch finstre Wolken
der Morgensonne Strahl nicht drang,
und düstre Stimmung alle Berge überzog,
da ward des Knaben Auge trüb,
und wehmutvoll sein Herz – –.
So war er hingegeben ganz
dem Geistesweben seiner engen Welt,
die er nicht fremder fühlte seinem Wesen,
als seines Leibes Glieder.
Es waren ihm ja Freunde auch
Des Waldes Bäume und die Blumen;
es sprachen Geisteswesen aus den Kronen,
den Kelchen und den Wipfeln –,
verstehen konnte er ihr Raunen – –.
Geheimer Welten Wunderdinge
erschlossen sich dem Knaben,
wenn seine Seele sich besprach
mit dem, was leblos nur
den meisten Menschen gilt.
Und sorgend oft vermißten abendlich
die Eltern den geliebten Sprossen. –
An einem nahen Orte war er dann,
wo aus den Felsen eine Quelle drang,
und tausendfach zerstäubend
die Wassertropfen über Steine sprengte.
Wenn Mondeslichtes Silberglanz
in Farbenfunkelspielen zauberhaft
sich spiegelt’ in des Wassers Tropfenstrom,
da konnt’ der Knabe stundenlang
am Felsenquell verharren.
Und Formen, geisterhaft gebildet,
entstanden vor dem Knabenseherblick
im Wassertreiben und im Mondenlichtgeflimmer.
Zu dreien Frauenbildern wurden sie,
die ihm von jenen Dingen sprachen,
nach denen seiner Seele Trieb gerichtet. –
Und als in einer milden Sommernacht
Der Knabe wieder an der Quelle saß,
ergriff der Frauen eine viele tausend Stäubchen
des bunten Wassertropfenwesens,
und reichte sie der zweiten Frau.
Die formte aus den Tropfenstäubchen
Ein silberglänzend Kelchgefäß,
und reichte es der dritten Frau.
Die füllte es mit Mondessilberlicht,
und gab es so dem Knaben.
Der hatte alles dies geschaut
mit seinem Knabenseherblick.
Ihm träumte in der Nacht,
die dem Erlebnis folgte,
wie er beraubt des Kelches
durch einen wilden Drachen ward.
Nach dieser Nacht erlebte jener Knabe
nur dreimal noch das Quellenwunder.
Dann blieben ihm die Frauen fort,
auch wenn der Knabe sinnend saß
am Felsenquell im Mondensilberlicht.
Und als dreihundertsechzig Wochen
zum drittenmal verstrichen waren,
war längst der Knabe Mann geworden,
und von dem Elternhause und dem Waldesgrund
in eine fremde Stadt gezogen.
Da sann er eines Abends,
von harter Arbeit müde,
was ihm das Leben wohl noch bringen möge.
Es fühlte sich der Knabe plötzlich
nach seinem Felsenquell entrückt;
und wieder konnte er die Wasserfrauen schauen,
und dieses Mal sie sprechen hören.
Es sagte ihm die erste:
Gedenke meiner jeder Zeit,
wenn einsam du dich fühlst im Leben.
Ich lock’ des Menschen Seelenblick
in Ätherfernen und in Sternenweiten.
Und wer mich fühlen will,
dem reiche ich den Lebenshoffnungstrank
aus meinem Wunderbecher. –
Und auch die zweite sprach:
Vergiß mich nicht in Augenblicken,
die deinem Lebensmute drohen.
Ich lenk’ des Menschen Herzenstriebe
in Seelengründe und auf Geisteshöhn.
Und wer die Kräfte sucht bei mir,
dem schmiede ich die Lebensglaubensstärke
mit meinem Wunderhammer. –
Die dritte ließ sich so vernehmen:
Zu mir erheb’ dein Geistesauge,
wenn Lebensrätsel dich bestürmen.
Ich spinne die Gedankenfäden
in Lebenslabyrinthen und in Seelentiefen.
Und wer zu mir Vertrauen hegt,
dem wirke ich die Lebensliebestrahlen
aus meinem Wunderwebestuhl. – – –
Es träumt’ in jener Nacht,
die dem Erlebnis folgte,
dem Manne, daß ein wilder Drache
in Kreisen um ihn her sich schlich –
und nicht ihm nahen konnte:
Es schützten ihn vor jenem Drachen
die Wesen, die er einst am Felsenquell geschaut,
und die aus seiner Heimat
mit ihn zum fremden Ort gezogen waren.
‒ ‒ ‒ ‒ ‒ ‒ ‒ ‒ ‒ ‒ ‒ ‒ ‒ ‒ ‒
Capesius:
Habt Dank, Ihr liebe Frau,
ich gehe reichbeschenkt von Euch.
(Steht auf und geht; Frau Balde geht ins Haus.)
(Capesius allein in einiger Entfernung das folgende sprechend):
Capesius:
Ich fühle, wie gesundend solch ein Bild
In meiner Seele wirkt, und allem Denken
Verlorne Kräfte wiedergeben kann.
Es war so einfach, was die Frau erzählte;
und doch erregt es mir Gedankenkräfte,
die mich in unbekannte Welten tragen. – –
Ich will in dieser schönen Einsamkeit
dem Träumen mich ergeben, das so oft
Gedanken meiner Seele schenken wollte,
die wohl weit besser sich erwiesen haben
als manche Früchte wochenlangen Grübelns.
(Er verschwindet hinter einem dichten Gesträuch.)
Johannes (erscheint in tiefes Nachdenken verloren in derselben Waldgegend):
War’s Traum, war’s Wirklichkeit – – –?
Ich kann es nicht ertragen, was die Freundin
in milder Ruhe, doch so ernst
von unsrer Trennung sprach.
O könnte ich nur denken, daß Vernunft,
dem Geistestriebe widersetzlich,
sich zwischen sie und mich
als Trugbild stellen wollte. –
‒ ‒ ‒ ‒ ‒ ‒ ‒ ‒ ‒ ‒ ‒ ‒ ‒ ‒ ‒ ‒ ‒
Ich kann nicht – ich will sie nicht befolgen,
die Mahnung, die Maria fand,
zu übertönen meiner Seele Stimme,
die unaufhörlich spricht »Ich liebe sie«. –
und meine Liebe ist mir Quelle
des Wirkens, das allein ich kennen will.
Was ist mir aller Schaffens-Trieb,
was Ausblick zu den hohen Geisteszielen,
wenn sie das Licht mir rauben wollen,
das mir das Sein beleuchten kann? –
In diesem Lichte muß ich leben dürfen;
und wird es mir genommen,
so will ich nur den Tod für Ewigkeiten.
Ich fühle, wie die Kraft mir schwindet,
wenn ich versuchen will zu denken:
Ich müßt’ auf Wegen wandeln,
die nicht von ihrem Licht beleuchtet wird.
‒ ‒ ‒ ‒ ‒ ‒ ‒ ‒ ‒ ‒ ‒ ‒ ‒ ‒ ‒ ‒ ‒
Es webt sich mir vor Augen
ein Nebel, der die Wunder,
die herrlich diese Wälder, diese Felsen
mir sonst vor Augen malten,
in Wirrnis mir verwandelt – ‒ ‒
Ein wilder Traum entsteigt dem Abgrund – ‒ ‒ ‒
O wie er schaurig mich durchrüttelt – ‒ ‒
‒ ‒ ‒ ‒ ‒ ‒ ‒ ‒ ‒ ‒ ‒ ‒ ‒ ‒ ‒ ‒ ‒
O weiche von mir – ‒ !
Ich lechze nach der Einsamkeit,
die mir die eignen Träume lassen will;
in ihnen darf ich noch erstreben,
was mir verloren scheint – ‒
‒ ‒ ‒ ‒ ‒ ‒ ‒ ‒ ‒ ‒ ‒ ‒ ‒ ‒ ‒ ‒ ‒
– – Er will nicht weichen – – !
So will ich ihm entfliehen –
(fühlt sich wie am Boden festgehalten).
O welche Fesseln halten mich
An diesen Ort geschmiedet.
(Der Doppelgänger des Johannes Thomasius erscheint.)
Ach – – – – – –,
wer du auch bist,
ob menschlich Blut in deiner Form sich birgt,
ob geistig nur dein Sein –
verlasse mich – – –
‒ ‒ ‒ ‒ ‒ ‒ ‒ ‒ ‒ ‒ ‒ ‒ ‒ ‒ ‒
Wer ist es – – – ?
Ein Dämon stellt mich vor mich selber hin. – – –
Er will nicht weichen – – – –;
es ist das Bild des eignen Wesens –,
es scheint selbst stärker noch,
als dieses Wesen selbst zu sein – – – – –
Der Doppelgänger spricht:
Ich liebe dich, Maria . . . .
mit pochendem Herzen,
mit fieberndem Blute
nur kann ich vor dir stehn. –
Und wenn dein Blick mich trifft,
durchrieseln heiße Schauer mich;
und wenn du deine liebe Hand
in meine Hand willst legen,
erfüllt mich Seligkeit,
in allen Gliedern – – – – – –
Johannes:
Du Spukgestalt, aus Nebeldunst gewoben,
du wagst es, hier zu lästern
des Herzens reinstes Fühlen – – – :
O welche Schuld hab’ ich auf mich geladen,
daß ich erblicken muß
ein lüstern Zerrbild meiner Liebe,
die mir so heilig ist – – – –
Der Doppelgänger spricht:
Ich habe deinen Worten oft gelauscht –;
ich schien in meine Seele sie zu saugen
als Kunde aus dem Geisterland. –
Doch mehr als alle Offenbarung
empfand ich liebend deine Nähe.
Und wenn du sprachst von Seelenwegen,
erfüllte mich die Seligkeit,
die stürmisch wogt im Blute – ‒ ‒
Die Stimme des Gewissens spricht:
So spricht verschwiegene,
doch nicht vertriebene,
vom Schein gemiedene,
im Blut gebliebene
geheime Kraft
der Leidenschaft.
Der Doppelgänger spricht (mit etwas andrer Stimme):
Ich darf dich nicht verlassen;
Du wirst mich oft an deiner Seite finden;
ich weiche nicht von dir,
bis du die Kraft gefunden,
dich mich zum Gleichnis macht
des Wesens, das du werden sollst.
Noch bist du’s nicht in dieser Zeit.
Nur in dem Wahne deiner Eigenheit
erblickst du es in dir.
‒ ‒ ‒ ‒ ‒ ‒ ‒ ‒ ‒ ‒ ‒ ‒ ‒ ‒ ‒
(Es erscheinen Lucifer und Ahriman.)
Lucifer:
O Mensch, besiege dich,
O Mensch, erlöse mich.
Du hast mich überwunden
in deinen Seelenhöhen;
Ich bleibe dir verbunden
in deinen Wesenstiefen.
Du wirst mich immer finden
auf deinen Lebenswegen,
willst du dich unterwinden,
dich ganz vor mir zu schützen.
O Mensch, besiege dich,
O Mensch, erlöse mich.
Ahriman:
O Mensch, erkühne dich,
O Mensch, erlebe mich.
Du konntest dir erwerben
das Geistersehen;
Ich mußte dir verderben
das Herzensleben;
Du sollst noch oft erleiden
die stärkste Seelenpein,
willst du dich nicht bescheiden
an meine Kräfte halten.
O Mensch, erkühne dich,
O Mensch, erlebe mich.
(Lucifer und Ahriman verschwinden; desgleichen der Doppelgänger. ‒
Johannes geht in tiefem Sinnen in das Dunkel des Waldes.)
(Capesius erscheint wieder. Er hat hinter dem Gesträuch die Scene zwischen
Johannes und dem Doppergänger wie in einer Vision mitgemacht.)
Capesius:
Wie war mir eben? Wie ein schwerer Alp
belastet’s mich. Thomasius kam des Weges;
Er schien in tiefes Sinnen mir versunken.
er blieb dann stehen, wie mit jemand sprechend,
und doch war niemand außer ihm am Orte.
Ich fühlte, wie wenn schwere Angst mich drückte;
ich sah nicht mehr, was dann um mich geschah.
Wie schlafend, unbewußt muß ich doch wohl
in jene Bilderwelt versunken sein,
auf die ich mich ganz gut besinnen kann.
Es muß nur kurze Zeit gewesen sein,
daß ich so träumend selbstverloren saß.
Und doch, wie reich war jene Traumeswelt,
und wie befremdend scheint sie mit zu sein.
Ich konnte Menschen aus vergangnen Tagen
ganz deutlich sehen und auch sprechen hören.
Von einem Geistesbunde träumte ich,
der nach der Menschheit Höhen zielvoll strebte.
Mich selbst erkannt’ ich klar in ihrer Mitte.
Und fühlen mußt’ ich mich vertraut mit allem.
Ein Traum nur –, doch erschütternd war der Traum.
Ich weiß, daß ich gewiß in diesem Leben
dergleichen niemals kann erfahren haben.
Und was mir als Empfindung ist geblieben,
erfüllt die Seele wie das volle Leben.
Mich zieht es urgewaltig nach den Bildern – – ;
O könnte ich den Traum doch wieder schauen.
(Vorhang, während Capesius stehen bleibt.)
Scene Five
(A landscape in which Balde's lonely house is located. Evening atmosphere. Mrs. Balde, Capesius, then Felix Balde; later Johannes and his doppelganger, then Lucifer and Ahriman.)
Capesius (arriving and approaching a bench in front of Balde's house, on which Mrs. Balde is sitting):
Will you allow your old friend
to stay with you for a while?
Now more than ever, he needs
what he so often found in your house.
Mrs. Balde:
Even when I saw you coming from afar,
your weary steps told me,
and as you drew nearer, your eyes too,
that sorrow dwells in your soul today.
Capesius (who has sat down):
To bring much cheer to your home,
was not given to me otherwise;
but today I ask for special indulgence,
when I, with my restless heart,
invade the home of peace.
Mrs. Balde:
You were already so welcome here back then,
when hardly anyone else
came near this house. –
Despite many things that came between us,
you remained our friend,
even now, when our remote place
is sought out by many.
Capesius:
So it is true what I have heard,
that your dear Felix,
who was so withdrawn before,
has become
a much sought-after man these days?
Mrs. Balde:
Oh yes, good Felix
once shut us off from the world – –,
And now he has to answer to so many people.
This new life seems like his duty to him.
In earlier days, he wanted
to trust only his own inner self,
what the forest and the rocks revealed to him
about spiritual deeds and the forces of nature.
In the past, no one else seemed to find this worth knowing.
‒ ‒ ‒ ‒ ‒ ‒ ‒ ‒ ‒ ‒ ‒ ‒ ‒ ‒ ‒ ‒ ‒ ‒
How times have changed!
Now quite a lot of people
are eager to learn about the science
that Felix can reveal to them,
which they previously thought was foolish.
And when my dear good husband
(Felix Balde comes out of the house)
often has to talk for hours,
then I long for the old days,
when Felix meant so much to me,
as only in the quiet heart should
the soul carry its spiritual gifts,
which have been bestowed upon it from the realms of the gods
in grace,
and that a traitor to the high words of the spirit
is he who reveals them to ears
that are open only to the world of the senses.
Felix Balde:
Felicia finds it very difficult
to come to terms with our completely changed life.
She lamented the old loneliness;
and laments no less now,
since we have so few hours left for ourselves on so many days.
Capesius:
And what moved you
to open the house, once so closed,
to welcome people?
Felix Balde:
I obediently followed the guidance of the spirit,
which speaks to me in my heart,
when it commanded me to be silent.
And now that it tells me to speak,
I will be equally devoted to it.
The nature of humanity changes
in the course of earthly existence.
We stand at a turning point in time.
A part of spiritual knowledge
must be made accessible to all people
who want to open their minds to it. –
I know how little my nature corresponds
to the forms that are accepted today. ‒ ‒
In order to express what lives in the spirit,
the strictest logic and thought structure are prescribed.
They are denied in my speeches.
It is said that true science,
which should rest only on solid foundations,
can only serve as an example of my nature,
like human souls dream,
when, alien to science and education,
they seek wisdom on their own paths.
But some believe it is valuable
that through the confusion of my words
something can sometimes be discovered
that can be grasped with reason.
I am a man who, without art,
must let flow into his heart
whatever may reveal itself to him.
I know no knowledge without words. –
When I pause in the depths of my heart,
and also when I listen to nature,
the knowledge lives in me,
that does not first have to search for words – ‒ ‒;
Language is so connected to it,
as the physical form is to earthly man. –
A knowledge that in this way
reveals itself to us from spiritual worlds,
is also useful to people who do not understand it.
Therefore, everyone should be allowed to come to me,
who wants to hear what I have to say.
I know very well how only curiosity
and other less than good reasons guide many.
Even if the souls of such people
are not yet touched in this earthly time:
the good is planted in them,
and will continue to work in them.
Capesius:
I would like to speak openly with you. – ‒ ‒
For many years I have admired you.
But until now, the meaning of your strange words has been closed to me.
Felix Balde:
It will surely open up to you.
You strive with a good spirit and a noble heart;
there must also come a time
when you hear the voice of truth.
You do not realize how rich in content
man is as the image of the realms of the world.
His head is the reflection of heaven;
through his limbs, the spirits of the spheres work;
in his chest, earthly beings move;
and all of them are opposed, powerfully struggling,
by demons from the realm of the moon,
who must cross the paths of those beings.
What stands before us as a human being,
what we experience as the soul,
what shines upon us as the spirit:
it has been envisioned by many gods since time immemorial,
and their intention was
to combine forces from their worlds.
Capesius:
I become almost fearful at this word,
which boldly, as all divine deeds,
of human beings.
Felix Balde:
Therefore, the utmost humility is necessary for anyone
who wants to attain spiritual science.
And those who, in pride and vanity,
want to recognize themselves,
the gates of knowledge will not open for them.
Capesius:
As so often before, this time too
dear Mrs. Felicia will help me
to turn my soul toward the image
and, warming to the image, to grasp your words
in the right way.
Lady Balde:
My dear Felix
has often repeated to me
the words he just spoke.
They triggered in my heart
an image that I always told myself
I must tell you about.
Capesius:
Oh, do so, dear lady – ‒,
I thirst for refreshment
from your treasure trove of images.
Mrs. Balde:
So be it – ‒ ‒ ‒ ‒.
Once upon a time there was a boy,
who grew up as the only child of poor foresters
in the solitude of the forest. –
Apart from his parents,
he knew only a few people.
He was of weak build;
his skin was almost translucent.
One could look long into his eyes;
they held the deepest wonders of the mind.
And even though few people
entered the boy's circle of life,
he did not lack friends.
When in the nearby mountains
the golden sun glowed brightly,
Then the boy's pensive eyes
Absorbed the gold of the spirit into his soul;
And the essence of his heart,
It became like the morning sun. ‒
But when dark clouds
Blocked the rays of the morning sun,
And a gloomy mood covered all the mountains,
the boy's eyes became cloudy,
and his heart melancholy – –.
So he was completely devoted
to the spirit of his narrow world,
which he felt was no more foreign to his nature
than the limbs of his body.
For him, the trees and flowers of the forest were also friends;
spirits spoke from the crowns,
spirits spoke from the crowns,
the calyxes and the treetops –
he could understand their whispering – –.
Secret wonders of worlds
opened up to the boy
when his soul conversed
with what most people consider
lifeless.
And often in the evening, his parents missed their beloved offspring with concern.
He was then in a nearby place,
where a spring flowed from the rocks,
and a thousand times atomized
splashed over stones.
When the moonlight's silvery glow
was magically reflected
in the stream of water droplets,
the boy could linger for hours
at the rocky spring.
And shapes, ghostly formed,
appeared before the boy's eyes
in the rushing water and the moonlight sparkle.
They became three images of women,
who spoke to him of those things
to which his soul's desire was directed. –
And when, on a mild summer night,
The boy sat at the spring again,
one of the women took many thousands of specks of dust
from the colorful water droplets,
and handed them to the second woman.
She formed the specks of dust
into a shining silver chalice,
and handed it to the third woman.
She filled it with moonlight,
and gave it to the boy.
He had seen all this
with his boyish gaze.
That night,
following the experience,
he dreamed that he was robbed of the cup
by a wild dragon.
After that night, the boy
only experienced the miracle of the spring three more times.
Then the women stayed away from him,
even when the boy sat pensively
by the rock spring in the moonlight.
And when three hundred and sixty weeks
had passed for the third time,
the boy had long since become a man,
and had moved from his parents' house and the forest
to a strange city.
One evening, tired from hard work,
he pondered
what life might still bring him.
Suddenly, the boy felt
transported to his rock spring;
and once again he could see the water women,
and this time he could hear them speak.
The first one said to him:
Remember me always,
when you feel lonely in life.
I lure the human soul's gaze
into distant ethers and vast stars.
And to those who want to feel me,
I offer the elixir of life's hope
from my miraculous cup. –
And the second one also said:
Do not forget me in moments
that threaten your courage to live.
I guide the impulses of the human heart
into the depths of the soul and the heights of the spirit.
And to those who seek strength from me,
I forge the strength of faith in life
with my miracle hammer. –
The third spoke thus:
Lift up your spiritual eye to me,
when life's mysteries overwhelm you.
I spin the threads of thought
in life's labyrinths and in the depths of the soul.
And to those who place their trust in me,
I weave the rays of love for life
from my miracle loom. – – –
That night,
following the experience,
the man dreamed that a wild dragon
crept around him in circles –
and could not approach him:
He was protected from that dragon
by the beings he had once seen at the rocky spring,
and who had moved with him from his homeland
to this strange place.
‒ ‒ ‒ ‒ ‒ ‒ ‒ ‒ ‒ ‒ ‒ ‒ ‒ ‒ ‒
Capesius:
Thank you, dear lady,
I leave you richly rewarded.
(He stands up and leaves; Mrs. Balde goes into the house.)
(Capesius alone at a distance, saying the following):
Capesius:
I feel how healing such an image
works on my soul, and can restore lost powers
to all my thoughts.
What the woman said was so simple;
and yet it stirs my powers of thought,
carrying me into unknown worlds. – –
In this beautiful solitude, I want to
surrender myself to dreams that so often
wanted to give my soul thoughts
that have proven to be far better
than many fruits of weeks of brooding.
(He disappears behind a thick bush.)
Johannes (appears lost in deep thought in the same forest area):
Was it a dream, was it reality – – –?
I cannot bear what my girlfriend
said in calm but serious tones
about our separation.
Oh, if only I could believe that reason,
defying the impulses of the mind,
wanted to place itself between her and me
as a mirage. –
‒ ‒ ‒ ‒ ‒ ‒ ‒ ‒ ‒ ‒ ‒ ‒ ‒ ‒ ‒ ‒ ‒
I cannot—I will not obey
the warning that Maria found,
to drown out the voice of my soul,
which speaks incessantly, “I love her.” –
And my love is my source
of activity, which alone I want to know.
What is all my creative drive,
what is the prospect of high spiritual goals,
if they want to rob me of the light
that can illuminate my being? –
I must be allowed to live in this light;
and if it is taken from me,
then I want only death for eternity.
I feel my strength ebbing away
when I try to think:
I must walk paths
that are not illuminated by its light.
‒ ‒ ‒ ‒ ‒ ‒ ‒ ‒ ‒ ‒ ‒ ‒ ‒ ‒ ‒ ‒ ‒
A fog weaves itself before my eyes
that obscures the wonders
that these forests, these rocks
otherwise painted before my eyes,
into confusion – ‒ ‒
A wild dream rises from the abyss – ‒ ‒ ‒
Oh, how it shakes me with horror – ‒ ‒
‒ ‒ ‒ ‒ ‒ ‒ ‒ ‒ ‒ ‒ ‒ ‒ ‒ ‒ ‒ ‒ ‒
O depart from me – ‒ !
I long for solitude,
which my own dreams allow me;
in them I may still strive for
what seems lost to me – ‒
‒ ‒ ‒ ‒ ‒ ‒ ‒ ‒ ‒ ‒ ‒ ‒ ‒ ‒ ‒ ‒ ‒
– – He will not depart – – !
So I want to escape him –
(feels like he is pinned to the ground).
Oh, what chains bind me
To this place, forged in iron.
(The doppelganger of Johannes Thomasius appears.)
Oh – – – – – –,
whoever you are,
whether human blood flows in your veins,
or whether you are only a spirit –
leave me alone – – –
‒ ‒ ‒ ‒ ‒ ‒ ‒ ‒ ‒ ‒ ‒ ‒ ‒ ‒ ‒
Who is it – – – ?
A demon stands before me. – – –
He will not depart – – – –;
it is the image of my own being –,
it seems even stronger
than this being itself – – – – –
The doppelganger speaks:
I love you, Maria . . . .
With a pounding heart,
with feverish blood
I can only stand before you. –
And when your gaze meets mine,
hot shivers run through me;
and when you want to place your loving hand
in my hand,
bliss fills me,
in all my limbs – – – – – –
John:
You ghostly figure, woven from mist,
you dare to blaspheme here
the purest feelings of the heart – – – :
O what sin have I brought upon myself,
that I must behold
a lustful distortion of my love,
which is so sacred to me – – – –
The doppelganger speaks:
I have often listened to your words –;
I seemed to suck them into my soul
as news from the spirit world. –
But more than any revelation
I felt your loving presence.
And when you spoke of soul paths,
I was filled with bliss,
which surges stormily in my blood – ‒ ‒
The voice of conscience speaks:
So speaks the secret,
but not banished,
avoided by appearances,
remaining in the blood
secret power
of passion.
The doppelganger speaks (with a slightly different voice):
I must not leave you;
You will often find me at your side;
I will not depart from you
until you have found the strength
to make me the parable
of the being you are to become.
You are not yet that at this time.
Only in the delusion of your own uniqueness
do you see it in yourself.
‒ ‒ ‒ ‒ ‒ ‒ ‒ ‒ ‒ ‒ ‒ ‒ ‒ ‒ ‒
(Lucifer and Ahriman appear.)
Lucifer:
O human, conquer yourself,
O human, redeem me.
You have overcome me
in the heights of your soul;
I remain connected to you
in the depths of your being.
You will always find me
on your life's path,
if you dare to
protect yourself completely from me.
O human, conquer yourself,
O human, redeem me.
Ahriman:
O human, dare yourself,
O human, experience me.
You could acquire
the ability to see spirits;
I had to corrupt
the life of your heart;
You shall often suffer
the strongest torment of the soul,
if you do not modestly
submit to my powers.
O man, dare yourself,
O man, experience me.
(Lucifer and Ahriman disappear; as does the doppelganger. ‒
John enters the darkness of the forest, deep in thought.)
(Capesius reappears. He has watched the scene between
John and the doppelganger from behind the bushes, as if in a vision.)
Capesius:
How did I feel just now? It weighed on me like a heavy nightmare.
Thomasius came along the path;
he seemed to me to be deep in thought.
Then he stopped, as if talking to someone,
and yet there was no one else there.
I felt as if heavy fear was weighing me down;
I could no longer see what was happening around me.
As if asleep, unconscious, I must have been
immersed in that world of images,
which I can remember quite well.
It must have been only a short time
that I sat there dreaming, lost in myself.
And yet, how rich that dream world was,
and how strange it seems to me now.
I could see people from days gone by
very clearly and hear them speak.
I dreamed of a spiritual union
that purposefully strove for the heights of humanity.
I clearly recognized myself in their midst.
And I had to feel familiar with everything.
Just a dream—but it was a shocking dream.
I know that I certainly cannot have experienced
anything like this in this life.
And what has remained with me as a feeling
fills my soul like a full life.
I am drawn irresistibly to the images – – ;
Oh, if only I could see the dream again.
(Curtain, while Capesius remains standing.)
