by glamour of the worlds, whereto
My folly fled to free me from myself;
And now once more within my sightless soul
Blind through these words: ‘Know thou thyself, O man.’
(From the springs and rocks resounds:)
Know thou thyself, O man.
Johannes: (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
