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Four Mystery Plays. Rudolf SteinerЧитать онлайн книгу.

Four Mystery Plays - Rudolf Steiner


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any other converse save our own.

      And if this good man here from time to time

      (Pointing to Capesius.)

      Came not to linger in our cottage home,

      We scarce should realize that other men,

      Besides ourselves, live on the earth at all.

      And if the man, who spake such wondrous words

      But recently in yonder lecture-hall,

      And who affected us so potently,

      Did not full many a time my Felix meet,

      When he is gone about his daily tasks,

      Ye would know nought of our forgotten life.

      Maria:

      So the professor often visits you?

      Capesius:

      Assuredly. And I may tell you all,

      The very deep indebtedness I feel

      To this good woman, who doth give to me

      In rich abundance, what none other can.

      Maria:

      And of what nature are these gifts of hers?

      Capesius:

      If I would tell the tale, then must I touch

      A thing that verily doth seem to me

      More wonderful than much that here I’ve heard,

      In that it speaks more nearly to my soul.

      And were I in some other place, these words

      Would hardly pass the barrier of my lips;

      Yet here they seem to flow therefrom with ease.

      In my soul-life there often comes a time

      When it doth feel itself pumped out and dry.

      It seems as though the very fountain-head

      Of knowledge had run dry within my heart.

      Then can I find no word of any kind

      Worthy to speak or worthy to be heard.

      And when I feel such spirit barrenness

      I flee to these good people, and seek rest

      In their reviving, peaceful solitude

      Then Mistress Felix tells me many a tale

      Set forth in wondrous pictures, manifold,

      Of beings, dwelling in the land of dreams,

      Who lead a joyous life in fairy realms.

      When thus she speaks, her tone and speech recall

      Some legend oft-told of the ancient days.

      I ask no question whence she finds these words

      But this one thing alone I clearly know:

      That new life flows therefrom into my soul,

      And sweeps away its dull paralysis.

      Maria:

      To hear such splendid witness to the skill

      Of Dame Felicia doth, in wondrous wise,

      Harmoniously blend in every way

      With all that Benedictus told to us

      About his friend’s deep hidden knowledge-founts.

      Felix Balde:

      He who spake words to us just now, which showed

      (Benedictus appears at the door.)

      How in the realm of universal space,

      And vast eternities his spirit dwelt,

      Hath surely little need to speak o’er much

      Of simple men.

      Benedictus:

      Of simple men. Thou errest friend. For me

      Infinite value hath each word of thine.

      Felix Balde:

      It was presumption only, and the bent

      Of idle talk, when thou didst honour me

      To wander at thy side our mountain paths.

      Only because thou didst conceal from me

      How much thyself dost know, I dared to speak.

      But now our time is up, and we must go—

      A long way hence doth lie our quiet home.

      Felicia:

      It hath been most refreshing once again

      To come amongst mankind: and yet I fear

      It will not happen very soon again:

      There is no other life which Felix deems

      Better than living in his mountain heights.

      (Exeunt Felix and his wife.)

      Benedictus:

      Indeed I well believe his wife is right,

      Nor will he come again for many days.

      It needed much to bring him here today.

      And yet the reason lies not in himself

      Why no one knoweth aught of him or his.

      Capesius:

      He only seemed to me eccentric, strange;

      And many an hour I found him talkative

      When I was with him; but his mystic speech

      And strange discourse remained obscure to me,

      When he revealed all that he claims to know.

      He spoke of solar beings housed in rocks;

      Of lunar demons, who disturb their work;

      And of the sense of number hid in plants;

      And he who listens to him cannot long

      Keep clear the thread of meaning in his words.

      Benedictus:

      And yet ’tis also possible to feel

      As if the powers of Nature, through these words,

      Sought to reveal themselves in their true state.

      (Exit.)

      Strader:

      Already do I feel forebodings strange

      That now dark hours are coming in my life.

      For since the days of cloistered solitude,

      Where I was taught such knowledge, and thereby

      Struck to the very darkest depth of soul,

      Not one experience has stirred me so,

      As this weird vision of the seeress here.

      Capesius:

      Indeed I cannot see that aught of that

      Should prove unnerving. And I fear, my friend,

      That if thou once dost lose thy certainty,

      Dark doubt will soon envelop all thy thought.

      Strader:

      Too


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