Scene 14

The same. Hilary’s wife in conversation with the Manager.

Hilary’s wife:

That fate itself doth not desire the deed

Which yet my husband thinks imperative,

Seems likely when one views the tangled threads

This power doth weave to form the knot in life,

Which holds us here in its compelling bonds.

Manager:

A knot of fate indeed, which truly seems

Unable to be loosed by human sense—

And so, I take it, it must needs be cut.

I see no other possibility

Than that the strand which links thy husband’s life

To mine must now at last be cut in twain.

Hilary’s wife:

What! Part from thee!—My husband never will.

’Twould go against the spirit of the house

Which by his own dear father was inspired

And which the son will faithfully uphold.

Manager:

But hath he not already broken faith?

The aims that Hilary hath now in view

Can surely not be found along the road

His father’s spirit ever walked upon.

Hilary’s wife:

My husband’s happiness in life now hangs

On the successful issue of these aims.

I saw the transformation of his soul

As soon as, like a lightning flash, the thought

Illumined him. He had found hitherto

Nothing in life but sad soul-loneliness,

A feeling which he was at pains to hide

E’en from the circle of his closest friends

But which consumed him inwardly the more.

Till then he deemed himself of no account

Because thoughts would not spring up in his soul

Which seemed to him to be of use in life.

But when this plan of mystic enterprise

Then stood before his soul, he grew quite young,

He was another man, a happy man;

This aim first gave to him a worth in life.

That thou couldst ere oppose him in this work

Was inconceivable till it occurred.

He felt the blow more keenly than aught else

That in his life hath yet befallen him.

Couldst thou but know the pain that thou hast caused,

Thou wouldst not surely be so harsh with him.

Manager:

I feel as if my manhood would be lost

If I should set myself to go against

Mine own convictions.—I shall find it hard

To do my work with Strader at my side.

Yet I decided I would bear this load

To help Romanus, whom I understand

Since he concerning Strader spake with me.

What he explained became the starting-point

For me of mine own spirit-pupilship.

There was a power that flamed forth from his words

And entered actively within my soul;

I never yet had felt it so before.

His counsel is most precious, though as yet

I cannot understand and follow it;

Romanus only cares for Strader now;

He thinks the other mystics by their share

Not only are a hindrance to the work

But also are a danger to themselves.

For his opinion I have such regard

That I must now believe the following:

If Strader cannot find a way to work

Without his friends, ’twill be a sign of fate.

A sign that with these friends he must abide,

And only later fashion faculties,

Through mystic striving for some outward work.

The fact that recently he hath become

More closely knit to them than formerly,

Despite a slight estrangement for a while,

Makes me believe that he will find his way,

Lies in this state of things, though it involves

A failure, for the present, of his aims.

Hilary’s wife:

Thou see’st the man with only that much sight

With which Romanus hath entrusted thee,

Thou shouldst gaze on him with unbiased eye.

He can so steep himself in spirit-life

That he appears quite sundered from the earth.

Then spirit forms his whole environment

And Theodora liveth then for him.

In speaking with him it appears as if

She too were present. Many mystics can

Express the spirit-message in such words

As bring conviction after careful thought;

But Strader’s very speech hath this same power.

One sees that he sets little store upon

Mere inward spirit-life that is content

With feelings only; the explorer’s zeal

Doth ever prove his guide in mystic life.

And so his mystic aims do not destroy

His sense for scientific schemes which seem

Both practical and useful for this life.

Try to perceive this faculty in him,

And through him also learn another thing,

How one’s own personal judgment of one’s friends

Is of more value than another man’s

Such as Romanus hath acquired of him.

Manager:

In such a case as this, so far removed

From all the vista of my usual thought,

The judgment of Romanus seems to me

Some solid ground to stand on. If, myself,

I enter realms to mysticism near,

I surely need such guidance as indeed

A man can only give me who can win

My confidence by so much of himself

As I myself can fully comprehend.

(Enter the Secretary.)

You seem upset, my friend; what hath occurred?

Secretary (hesitatingly):

Good doctor Strader died a few hours since.

Manager:

Died?—Strader?

Hilary’s wife:

What. Not Strader dead?—Where now

Is Hilary?

Secretary:

Is Hilary? He is in his own room.

He seemed quite stricken when the messenger

First brought the news to him from Strader’s house.

(Exit Hilary’s wife, followed by the Secretary.)

Manager (alone):

Dead—Strader!—Can this really be the truth?

The spirit-sleep of which I heard so much

Now toucheth me.—The fate which here doth guide

The threads of life wears now a serious face.

O little soul of mine, what mighty hand

Hath now laid hold upon thy thread of fate,

And given it a part within this knot.

‘But that which must will surely come to pass!’

Why is it that these words have never left

My mind since Strader spake them long ago

When talking with myself and Hilary?—

As if they reached him from another world

So did they sound;—he spake as if entranced;—

What is to come to pass?—Right well I know

The spirit-world laid hands upon me then.

Within those words there sounds the spirit-speech—

Sounds earnest—; how can I its weaving learn?

Curtain