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(As though coming to himself, sees Maria. The meditation passes to the plane of inner reality.)

      Know thou thyself, O man. Thou here, my friend?

      Maria:

      I sought thee, friend, although I know full well

      How comforting to thee is solitude,

      When many varying thoughts of many men

      Have flooded o’er thy soul. I also know

      I cannot by my presence help my friend

      In this dark hour of strife—yet yearnings vague

      Drive me in this same moment unto thee;

      When Benedictus’ words, instead of light,

      Such grievous sorrow drew from thy soul’s depths.

      Johannes:

      How comforting to me is solitude!

      Yea, I have sought to find myself therein,

      So often when to labyrinths of thought

      The joys and griefs of men had driven me.

      But now, O friend, that, too, is past and gone.

      What Benedictus’ words at first aroused

      Within my soul, and all that I lived through

      When listening to the speeches of those men,

      Seems but indeed a little thing, when I

      Compare therewith the storm that solitude

      With sullen brooding hath brought forth in me.

      Ah me! when I recall this solitude!

      It hounded me into the voids of space,

      And tore me from my very self in two.

      Within that soul to whom I brought such pain

      I stood, as though I were some other man.

      And there I had to suffer all the pain

      Of which I was myself the primal cause.

      Ah cruel, sombre, fearful solitude

      Thou giv’st me back unto myself indeed,

      Yet but to terrify me with the sight

      Of mine own nature’s fathomless abyss.

      Man’s final refuge hath been lost to me:

      I have been robbed of solitude itself.

      Maria:

      I must repeat what I have said before.

      Alone can Benedictus succour thee;

      Only from him may we obtain support

      And that firm basis which we both do lack.

      For know thou this: I also can no more

      Endure the riddle of my life, unless

      His gentle guidance solveth it for me.

      Full often have I kept before mine eyes

      This truth sublime, that o’er all life doth float

      Appearance and deception if we grasp

      Life’s surface only in our moods of thought.

      And o’er and o’er again it spake to me:

      Thou must take knowledge how illusion’s veil

      Weaves all around thee; and however oft

      It may appear to thee as truth, beware;

      For evil fruitage may in truth arise

      If thou shouldst try within another’s soul

      To wake the light that lives within thyself.

      Yet in the best part of my soul I know

      That even this oppressive weight of care

      Which hath o’erwhelmed thy soul, dear friend of mine,

      As thou didst tread with me the path of life,

      Is part and parcel of the thorny way,

      That leads unto the light of Truth itself.

      Thou must live through each horror and alarm

      That can spring forth from vain imagining

      Before the Truth in essence stands revealed.

      Thus speaks thy star; and by that same star speech

      It doth appear to me that we shall walk

      One day united, on the spirit-paths.

      And yet whene’er I seek to tread these paths

      Black night doth spread a curtain round my sight.

      And many things that I must live and do,

      Which spring as fruitage from my character,

      Intensify the darkness of that night.

      We two must seek clear vision in that light,

      Which, though it vanish for a while from sight,

      Can never be extinguished in the soul.

      Johannes:

      But then, Maria, dost thou realize

      Through what my soul hath fought its way but now?

      A grievous destiny awaiteth thee,

      Most noble friend. For well I know that far

      From thy pure nature lies that potent force,

      That hath so wholly shattered me to bits.

      Thou canst ascend the clearest heights of truth,

      And scan with steadfast gaze life’s tangled path;

      And whether in the darkness or the light

      Thou wilt retain thine own identity.

      But me each moment may deprive of Self.

      Deep down I had to dive within the hearts

      Of those who late revealed themselves in speech.

      I followed one to cloistered solitude—

      And in another’s soul I listened to

      Felicia’s fairy lore. I was each one;

      Only unto myself I seemed as dead;

      For I must fain believe that primal life

      Did spring from very Nothingness itself,

      If it were right to entertain the hope,

      That out of that dread nothingness in me

      A human being ever could arise.

      For I am driven from fear into the dark

      And from the darkness back again to fear

      By wisdom stored within these living words:

      ‘Know thou thyself, O man. Know thou thyself.’

      (From the springs and rocks the words resound:)

      Know thou thyself, O man.

       Curtain

      Scene 3

       Table of Contents

       A room for meditation. The background

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