Four Mystery Plays
GA 14
The Soul's Probation (Written 1911)
Scene 6
A woodland meadow. In the background, high cliffs on which stands a castle. Summer evening. Country folk; 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 in yonder castle; none of us
May enter; but 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 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 Jew employs the devil's remedies
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 towards 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 mine 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 thy soul.
Thomas:
Pain oft is neighbour unto highest bliss;
That this is so mine own life proves to-day.
Monk:
Hast thou then met with bliss and pain at once?
Thomas:
I told thee, reverend father, that I loved
The overseer'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 grew expert,
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 at last my hope is realized
But also is for ever torn from me.
Matters of business led me yesterday
To seek for speech with my superior.
Thou knowest how lightly I esteem the knight
Who issueth directions for my work,
Since I have learned he is thine 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
Sechstes Bild.
Das Folgende stellt Bilder von Vorgängen aus dem ersten Drittel des vierzehnten Jahrhunderts dar. Der Fortgang wird zeigen, daß in ihnen die Rückschau von Capesius, Thomasius und Maria in ihr früheres Erdenleben zu sehen ist.
(Eine Waldwiese. Im Hintergrunde hohe Felsen, auf denen eine Burg steht. Sommerabendstimmung. Bauern, der Jude Simon; der Bergwerkmeister Thomas, ein Mönch.)
(Bauern über die Wiese gehend, und während sie stehen bleiben, sprechend):
1. Bauer:
Seht dort den bösen Juden;
er wird nicht wagen,
denselben Weg zu gehn wie wir;
er könnte Dinge hören,
die lange seine Ohren jucken.
2. Bauer:
Wir müssen seiner Dreistigkeit
einmal recht deutlich fühlen lassen,
daß wir sie nicht mehr länger dulden
in unsrem biedern Heimatland,
in das er sich hereingeschlichen hat.
1. Bäuerin:
Er steht im Schutze der hohen Herrn,
die oben auf dem Schlosse wohnen;
von uns darf niemand dort hinein,
den Juden nimmt man gerne auf.
Er tut auch was die Ritter wollen.
3. Bauer:
Es ist recht schwer zu wissen,
wer Gott und wer der Hölle dient.
Wir müssen unsern Rittern dankbar sein;
Sie geben uns das Brot und auch die Arbeit.
Was wären wir denn ohne sie?
2. Bäuerin:
Ich muß den Juden loben.
Er hat von meiner schweren Krankheit
Durch seine Mittel mich befreit
Und war so lieb und gut dabei.
Das gleiche hat er vielen schon getan.
3. Bäuerin:
Mir aber hat ein Mönch verraten,
daß teuflisch ist, womit der Jude heilt.
Man muß vor seinem Gift sich hüten;
es soll im Leibe sich verwandeln
und allen Sünden Einlaß geben.
4. Bauer:
Die Menschen, die den Rittern dienen,
bekämpfen unsre alten Sitten.
Sie sagen, daß der Jude vieles weiß,
was Heil und Segen bringt,
und was man künftig erst noch schätzen wird.
5. Bauer:
Es kommen neue bessre Zeiten,
ich schau’ sie schon voraus im Geiste,
wenn mir die Seelenbilder zeigen,
was Leibesaugen nicht erblicken können.
Die Ritter wollen uns das alles schaffen.
4. Bäuerin:
Wir sind der Kirche Treue schuldig,
die unsre Seele vor den Teufelsbildern,
vor Tod und Höllenqualen rettet.
Die Mönche warnen vor den Rittern,
und vor dem Zaubrer auch, dem Juden.
5. Bäuerin:
Wir sollen nur noch kurze Zeit
geduldig unser Joch ertragen,
das uns die Ritter auferlegen.
Die Burg wird bald in Trümmern liegen;
das hat ein Traumgesicht mir offenbart.
6. Bäuerin:
Mich quält die Angst vor schwerer Sünde,
wenn ich oft hören muß,
die Ritter wollten uns verderben. –
Ich seh’ nur Gutes stets von ihnen kommen;
ich muß sie auch als Christen gelten lassen.
6. Bauer:
Was künftig Menschen denken wollen,
das soll man denen überlassen,
die nach uns leben werden.
Den Rittern sind wir nur
Das Werkzeug für die Teufelskünste,
mit denen sie bekämpfen,
was wahrhaft christlich ist.
Wenn sie vertrieben werden,
sind wir der Führung ledig,
und können dann nach eignem Sinn
in unsrer Heimat leben.
Wir wollen jetzt zur Abendandacht gehn;
da finden wir, was unsre Seelen brauchen,
und was der Väter Sitten angemessen ist.
Die neuen Lehren taugen nicht für uns.
(Die Bauern gehen ab.)
(Simon, der Jude, kommt aus dem Walde.)
Simon:
So sind’s nur stets der alte Hass und Spott,
die ich von allen Seiten hören muß.
Und doch erfüllt mich immer wieder Schmerz,
wenn ich mich ihnen bloßgestellt muß sehn.
Es scheint kein Grund vorhanden für die Art,
wie ich behandelt werde von den Leuten.
Und doch verfolgt mich Ein Gedanke oft,
der mir die Wahrheit vor die Sinne rückt,
daß Sinn in allem liegt, was wir erleben.
So muß gewiß auch dies begündet sein,
daß Menschen meines Stammes leiden müssen.
Und blick’ ich auf die Herren jener Burg,
so find’ ich ihr Geschick dem meinen ähnlich.
Sie haben sich nur zielvoll selbst gewählt,
wozu Naturgewalten mich verhalten.
Sie sondern sich von allen Menschen ab,
um einsam strebend Kräfte auszubilden,
durch die sie ihre Ziele finden können.
Ich fühle so, was ich dem Schicksal schulde,
das mich mit Einsamkeit gesegnet hat.
Nur auf die eigne Seele hingewiesen,
ergab ich mich dem Reich der Wissenschaft.
Erkennen konnte ich aus ihren Lehren,
daß unsre Zeit sich neuen Zielen neigt.
Es müssen sich dem Menschen offenbaren
Naturgesetze, die bisher ihm fremd;
Er wird sich so die Sinnenwelt erobern,
und aus ihr Kräfte sich entfalten lassen,
die er in seine Dienste stellen wird.
Ich habe nun getan, was ich vermocht,
ich solcher Art die Heilkunst fortzubilden.
Dies Streben machte mich dem Bunde wert.
Die Brüder ließen mich auf ihren Gütern
die Kräfte, welche in den Pflanzen ruhn
und die im Erdengrunde aufzufinden,
zu neuem Heilverfahren untersuchen. ‒
So handle ich nach ihrem Sinn und Ziel
und darf bekennen, daß ich manche Frucht
auf meinem Wege freudig pflücken konnte.
(Geht weiter in den Wald hinein.)
(Der Bergwerksmeister Thomas kommt aus dem Walde. Ihm begegnet der Mönch.)
Thomas:
Ich will mich hier ein wenig niederlassen.
Es braucht die Seele Ruhe, sich zu finden
Nach solchen Stürmen, wie sie mich getroffen.
(Der Mönch kommt hinzu.)
Mönch:
Ich grüße dich recht herzlich, wackrer Sohn.
Du hast die Einsamkeit hier aufgesucht;
Nach vieler Arbeit willst du stillen Frieden,
zu lenken deinen Sinn nach Geisteswelten.
So seh’ ich meinen lieben Schüler gerne.
Es blickt dein Auge aber wehmutvoll?
Es scheint, daß Sorgen deine Seele quälen.
Thomas:
Der Schmerz ist nahe oft dem höchsten Glücke;
Das zeigt mein Leben mir in diesen Tagen.
Mönch:
So hast du Glück und Schmerz zugleich erfahren?
Thomas:
Mein hoher Herr, ich hab’ Euch anvertraut,
daß ich des Bergaufsehers Tochter liebe,
und daß auch sie mir herzlich zugetan.
Sie wird als Weib mit mir das Leben teilen.
Mönch:
Sie wird dir treu im Glück und Leide folgen;
sie ist der Kirche fromm ergebne Tochter.
Thomas:
Nur solch’ ein Weib kann mir zur Seite stehn;
da ich von Euch, mein vielgeliebter Führer,
die wahre Gottergebenheit gelernt.
Mönch:
Und bist du auch der eignen Seele sicher,
daß sie den Weg auch ferner wandeln wird,
den ich ihr als den rechten zeigen durfte?
Thomas:
So wahr mein Herz in meinem Leibe schlägt,
so wahr soll Euer Sohn für alle Zeiten
den hohen Lehren treu ergeben sein,
die er aus eurem Munde hören durfte.
Mönch:
Und habt Ihr mir von eurem Glück gesprochen,
so laßt mich Euer Leid nun auch erfahren.
Thomas:
Ich hab’ Euch oft erzählt, wie ich gelebt. –
Als ich der Kindheit kaum entwachsen war,
begann ich in der Welt umherzureisen.
Ich habe oft den Arbeitsort verändert.
Es lebte mir im Herzen stets der Wunsch,
dem Vater zu begegnen, den ich liebte,
obgleich ich Gutes nicht von ihm erfahren.
Verlassen hat er meine gute Mutter,
weil er, von Weib und Kindern ungehindert,
ein neues Leben sich gewinnen wollte.
Der Trieb nach Abenteuern lag in ihm.
Ich war ein Kind noch, als er von uns ging;
Und meine Schwester eben erst geboren.
Die Mutter starb aus Gram nach kurzer Zeit.
Die Schwester kam in guter Leute Pflege,
die später meinen Heimatsort verlassen haben.
Ich konnte nichts mehr von dem Mädchen hören.
Ich lernte, von Verwandten unterstützt,
das Bergfach, und ich kam so weit darin,
daß ich stets Arbeit fand, wo ich sie suchte.
Mir hat die Hoffnung niemals schwinden können,
daß ich den Vater wiederfinden müßte.
Und jetzt, da meine Hoffnung sich erfüllt,
ist sie zugleich für immer mir genommen. –
Ich hatte gestern wegen Dienstessachen
Bei meinem Vorgesetzten mich zu melden.
Ihr wißt, wie wenig ich den Ritter liebe,
der meiner Arbeit Oberleiter ist,
seit mir bekannt, daß Ihr sein Gegner seid.
Seit dieser Zeit hab’ ich mir vorgenommen,
im Dienste dieses Schlosses nicht zu bleiben.
Der Ritter brachte unsre Unterredung,
aus Gründen, die mir unbekannt geblieben,
zu solcher Wendung, die ihm möglich machte,
sich als – mein Vater mir zu offenbaren …
Was folgte … o ich möchte es verschweigen …
Ich hätte alles Leid vergessen können,
das er der Mutter und mir selbst bereitet,
als ich dem Vater gegenüberstand,
der schmerzgebeugt von alten Zeiten sprach.
Doch Euer Gegner stand in ihm vor mir.
Ich konnte nur das eine klar mir machen,
welche tiefe Kluft mich trennen muß für immer,
von ihm, den ich so gerne lieben würde,
den ich so lange sehnsuchtsvoll gesucht. ‒
Ich habe ihn zum zweiten Mal verloren.
So fühle ich, was ich erleben mußte.
Mönch:
Ich werde niemals dich entfremden wollen
den Banden, die das Blut dir auferlegt.
Doch was ich deiner Seele geben kann,
soll dir in Liebe stets beschieden sein.
(Vorhang, während beide abgehen.)
Scene Six
The following depicts scenes from the first third of the fourteenth century. As the story progresses, it will become clear that these scenes represent Capesius, Thomasius, and Maria looking back on their previous earthly lives.
(A forest clearing. In the background, high cliffs with a castle on top. Summer evening atmosphere. Farmers, Simon the Jew, Thomas the mine foreman, and a monk.)
(Farmers walking across the meadow and talking as they stop):
1st farmer:
Look at that evil Jew;
he won't dare
to walk the same path as us;
he might hear things
that have long been itching his ears.
2nd farmer:
We must make his audacity
clear to him once and for all,
that we will no longer tolerate it
in our honest homeland,
into which he has crept.
1st farmer's wife:
He is under the protection of the high lords,
who live up in the castle;
none of us are allowed in there,
but the Jews are welcomed.
He also does what the knights want.
3rd farmer:
It is quite difficult to know
who serves God and who serves hell.
We must be grateful to our knights;
They give us bread and also work.
What would we be without them?
2nd farmer's wife:
I must praise the Jew.
He has freed me from my serious illness
Through his remedies
And was so kind and good in doing so.
He has done the same for many others.
3rd farmer's wife:
But a monk told me
that what the Jew uses to heal is devilish.
One must beware of his poison;
it is said to transform itself in the body
and give access to all sins.
4th Farmer:
The people who serve the knights
fight against our old customs.
They say that the Jew knows many things
that bring healing and blessings,
and that will be valued even more in the future.
5th Farmer:
New and better times are coming,
I can already see them in my mind,
when the images in my soul show me
what my physical eyes cannot see.
The knights want to create all this for us.
4th farmer's wife:
We owe allegiance to the church,
which saves our souls from the images of the devil,
from death and the torments of hell.
The monks warn us against the knights,
and also against the sorcerer, the Jew.
5th farmer's wife:
We must only patiently bear our yoke for a short time,
which the knights impose on us.
The castle will soon lie in ruins;
a dream vision has revealed this to me.
6. Peasant woman:
I am tormented by the fear of grave sin,
when I often hear
that the knights want to destroy us. –
I only ever see good coming from them;
I must also accept them as Christians.
6th Farmer:
What people will think in the future
should be left to those
who will live after us.
To the knights, we are only
the tools for the devil's arts,
with which they fight what is truly Christian.
When they are driven out,
we will be free of their leadership,
and can then live in our homeland
according to our own will.
We will now go to evening prayer;
there we will find what our souls need,
and what is appropriate to the customs of our fathers.
The new teachings are no good for us.
(The peasants exit.)
(Simon, the Jew, comes out of the forest.)
Simon:
So it is always the same old hatred and mockery
that I must hear from all sides.
And yet I am filled with pain again and again
when I must see myself exposed to them.
There seems to be no reason for the way
I am treated by people.
And yet one thought often haunts me,
which brings the truth before my senses,
that there is meaning in everything we experience.
So surely there must also be a reason
why people of my tribe must suffer.
And when I look at the lords of that castle,
I find their fate similar to mine.
They have chosen themselves purposefully,
whereas the forces of nature have restrained me.
They separate themselves from all people,
striving alone to develop powers
through which they can find their goals.
I feel what I owe to fate,
which has blessed me with solitude.
Pointed only to my own soul,
I surrendered myself to the realm of science.
From its teachings, I was able to recognize that our time is leaning toward new goals.
Natural laws must be revealed to man,
the laws of nature that were previously unknown to them;
In this way, they will conquer the sensory world
and unleash the powers within it
that they will put to use.
I have now done what I could
to advance the art of healing in this way.
This endeavor made me worthy of the covenant.
The brothers allowed me to use their estates
to investigate the powers that lie dormant in plants
and can be found in the earth,
in order to develop new healing methods. ‒
Thus I act in accordance with their intentions and goals
and can confess that I was able to joyfully pick many fruits
along the way.
(Goes further into the forest.)
(The mine master Thomas comes out of the forest. He encounters the monk.)
Thomas:
I want to settle down here for a while.
The soul needs peace to find itself
after such storms as have befallen me.
(The monk approaches.)
Monk:
I greet you warmly, brave son.
You have sought solitude here;
After much work, you want quiet peace,
to direct your mind toward spiritual worlds.
So I am glad to see my dear student.
But your eyes look melancholy?
It seems that worries torment your soul.
Thomas:
Pain is often close to the highest happiness;
My life shows me that these days.
Monk:
So you have experienced both happiness and pain?
Thomas:
My lord, I have confided in you
that I love the mountain keeper's daughter,
and that she is also fond of me.
She will share her life with me as my wife.
Monk:
She will follow you faithfully in happiness and sorrow;
she is a devout daughter of the church.
Thomas:
Only such a woman can stand by my side;
since I have learned from you, my beloved guide,
true devotion to God.
Monk:
And are you also certain of your own soul,
that it will continue to walk the path
that I was allowed to show it as the right one?
Thomas:
As surely as my heart beats in my body,
so surely shall your son be faithful for all time
to the high teachings
he was allowed to hear from your mouth.
Monk:
And since you have told me of your happiness,
let me now also learn of your sorrow.
Thomas:
I have often told you how I lived. –
When I had barely outgrown childhood,
I began to travel around the world.
I often changed my place of work.
The desire to meet the father I loved
always lived in my heart,
even though I had not experienced any good from him.
He abandoned my good mother
because, unhindered by wife and children,
he wanted to gain a new life for himself.
The urge for adventure was in him.
I was still a child when he left us;
and my sister had just been born.
My mother died of grief shortly afterwards.
My sister was taken into the care of good people,
who later left my hometown.
I heard nothing more about the girl.
With the support of relatives, I learned
the mountain trade, and I became so skilled at it
that I always found work wherever I sought it.
I never lost hope
that I would find my father again.
And now that my hope has been fulfilled,
it has been taken from me forever.
Yesterday, I had to report to my superior
on business matters.
You know how little I love the knight
who is my supervisor,
since I learned that you are his opponent.
Since that time, I have decided not to remain in the service of this castle.
The knight brought our conversation,
for reasons unknown to me, to such a turn that it enabled him to reveal himself to me as my father...
to such a turn of events that enabled him
to reveal himself to me as my father...
What followed... oh, I would rather keep silent...
I could have forgotten all the suffering
he caused my mother and myself when I stood before my father,
who spoke of old times, bent over with pain.
But your adversary stood before me in him.
I could only make one thing clear to myself,
what a deep chasm must separate me forever from him, whom I would so gladly love, whom I had sought so long and longingly. ‒
I lost him for the second time.
This is how I feel about what I had to experience.
Monk:
I will never want to alienate you
from the bonds that blood imposes on you.
But what I can give your soul
shall always be yours in love.
(Curtain as both exit.)