Four Mystery Plays

by Rudolf Steiner

Scene 8

The same. The First Preceptor; Joseph Keane; then the Grand Master with Simon; later the First and the Second Master of Ceremonies. Joseph Keane is there first; the Preceptor approaches him.

First Preceptor:

Thou didst send word thou wouldst have speech with me.

What is the news that thou art come to bring?

Joseph Keane:

Most weighty matters both to thee and me.

Thou knowst the master miner Thomas here,

Who renders service to thee?

First Preceptor:

Who renders service to thee? Well I know

The worthy man; we prize him for his skill,

And his subordinates hold him in love.

Keane:

And dost thou know my child, Cecilia, too?

First Preceptor (moved):

It hath so chanced that I have seen the maid

When I have met thee with thy family.

Keane:

It happened that soon after Thomas came

He paid us frequent visits in our home.

They grew more frequent; it was evident

That to Cecilia his whole heart went out.

We did not marvel that this should be so.

But, knowing our girl’s nature, it was long

Ere we could think that she returned his love.

Her life was well nigh one continuous prayer,

And almost all society she shunned.

Yet ever doth it now appear more clear

That to this stranger she hath giv’n her heart.

And as things are, we feel ourselves compelled

Not to oppose the wishes of our child;

Thomas she loves, and she would marry him.

First Preceptor (with faltering movements):

Why runs this marriage counter to thy will?

Keane:

My lord, there is no need for me to tell

Of my devotion to the brotherhood.

My heart would have to bear a heavy load

If my child’s love, in its entirety,

Were cast upon the side of those who say

That you and I alike are heretics.

The monk who now o’er yonder abbey rules

Close by our home, and who doth ever seek

To thwart the mission of the brotherhood,

Hath won dominion o’er our daughter’s soul.

As long as she is still beneath my roof

So long shall I too not abandon hope

That she may yet again retrace the path

Which leads from spirit-darkness unto light.

But I shall have to give her up for lost

When she shall have become the wife of one

Who, like herself, works for the weal of man

According to the precepts of that monk.

His Reverence hath had complete success

In foisting such opinions as he holds

On Thomas, who receives them in full faith.

A thrill of terror would run over me

To hear the curses pour from Thomas’ lips

Whene’er we spake about the brotherhood.

First Preceptor:

Our enemies are many; if one more

Is added it cannot affect us much.

Thy words have not yet made it clear to me

What my concern is with this tale of love.

Keane:

My lord, thou seest this packet in mine hand.

Its contents warrant me to come to thee.

My wife and I alone have read the lines:

None else in these parts knows a word of them.

Now must they be made known to thee as well—

The maid who passeth for our flesh and blood

Is not the offspring of my wife and me.

We undertook the training of the child

When her own mother died. What I have still

To say will make it seem unnecessary,

To tell at length how all this came to pass.

For long we knew not who her father was;

The girl today knows not her parentage.

Father and mother she beholds in us.

And such a state of things might have gone on

Since we do love her as our very own.

But some years later than her mother’s death

The papers that I hold were brought to us;

They make it plain who our child’s father is.

I cannot tell if he is known to thee.

(The Preceptor loses control over himself.)

But now I know—am sure …

But now I know—am sure … that thou art he.

There is no need for me to tell thee more.

But since it is thy child who is concerned

I beg thee to extend to me thine aid.

United our endeavours may succeed

To save her from the darkness that impends.

First Preceptor:

Dear Keane. Thou hast been ever true to me,

And I would fain still further count on thee.

Neither within nor yet without these walls

Must any in this country ever know

The truth of my relation to this girl.

Keane:

My word thereon. I mean no harm to thee;

I only beg that thou wilt lend thine aid.

First Preceptor:

Thou dost perceive that at the present time

I cannot talk with thee at greater length.

I pray thee come tomorrow.

Keane:

I pray thee come tomorrow. I will come.

(Exit.)

First Preceptor:

How cruelly my fate fulfils itself.

I left my wife and child in misery,

Since they seemed hindrances upon the path

Along which vanity did beckon me.

It led me on to join this brotherhood.

In words of solemn import I then vowed

My service to the cause of human love

Albeit I was laden with the guilt

Arising from the opposite of love.

The brotherhood’s clear vision, as applied

To acts and men, is manifest in me.

It welcomed me a brother in its ranks

And forthwith laid on me its rules severe.

To self-examination was I led

And knowledge of myself, which otherwise

In other walks of life I had not found.

And then when, under Fate’s decree, my son

Came and dwelt near me, I was fain to think

That mighty Powers were merciful to me

In showing how to expiate my sin.

I knew long since that this Keane’s foster-child

Was none else than the daughter whom I left.

The brotherhood is near its overthrow,

Each brother resolute to meet his death,

Convinced that those high purposes will live

For which he makes his life the sacrifice.

But I, alas, have felt for many days

I was not worthy of this glorious end.

My purpose ever ripened to make known

My case unto the master, and to crave

Permission to forsake the brotherhood.

I had in mind thenceforward to devote

My days unto my children, and so far

As in this earth-life yet is possible

To offer penance. But I clearly see,

That ’twas not filial longing brought my son

To this same spot to seek his father out,

Although his good heart made him thus believe.

But he was led by forces in the blood

Which drew him to his sister. Other ties,

Blood-born, were loosened by a father’s guilt,

Or else yon monk had never had the power

To rob me so entirely of my son.

Indeed the robbery is so complete,

That with the brother will the sister too

From my paternal longings be estranged.

And so nought else remains for me but this,

To take immediate measures to ensure

That they shall know the truth about themselves,

And then with resignation to await

The penance laid upon me by those powers

Who keep the reckoning of our misdeeds.

(Exit.)

(After an interval the Grand Master and Simon enter.)

Grand Master:

Henceforward Simon, in the castle walls

Thou must abide, for since that lying tale

Was published that thou art a sorcerer,

Peril awaits thine every step outside.

Simon:

My heart is sore indeed to find that men

In ignorance assail a proffered aid

Whose only object is to do them good.

Grand Master:

Those who, by grace of lofty spirit-powers,

Can turn their gaze upon the souls of men,

Will see the enemies therein arrayed

Which fight against the nature of the soul.

The battle which our mortal foes prepare

Is but an emblem of that greater strife

Waged in the heart incessantly by powers

Which are at enmity amongst themselves.

Simon:

My lord, in very truth these words of thine

Arouse an echo in my deepest soul.

Indeed my nature is not prone to dreams;

Yet when I walk alone through wood and field

A picture often riseth in my soul

Which with my will I can no more control

Than any object which mine eye beholds.

A human form appears in front of me

Which fain would grasp my hand in fellowship.

Such suffering on his features is expressed

As never yet I saw in any face.

The greatness and the beauty of this man

Seize firmly hold of all my powers of soul;

I fain would sink to earth and humbly bow

Before this messenger from other worlds.

Next moment like a raging flame, there comes

The wildest anger searing through my heart,

Nor can I gain the mastery o’er the power

That fans the opposition of my soul,

And I am forced to thrust aside the hand

Which is so lovingly held out to me.

So soon as to my senses I return

The radiant form hath vanished from my sight.

And thereupon, when I recall in thought

That which my spirit hath so often seen,

Before my soul this thought presents itself

Which moves me to the bottom of my heart.

I feel myself attracted by thy lore,

In which a Spirit-being is revealed

Descending from the Kingdom of the Sun,

To take a human form upon Himself,

In order to disclose Himself to men.

I cannot keep the glowing beauty out

That pours upon me from thy noble lore,

And yet my soul will not assent thereto.

The primal form of our humanity

In thy great Spirit-being I admit;

But still my individual self rebels

When I would turn to him in faith and love.

So must I ever wage an inward war

The archetype of every outer strife.

In sore distress, I seek in vain a clue

To solve the riddle of my life and fate:

How comes it that I understand so well

And yet that I in no wise can believe

The things thy noble teachings do reveal?

I follow thine example faithfully,

Yet find myself opposed at every point

To this example’s goal and origin.

And when I must thus recognize myself,

A flood of doubt o’erwhelms my falt’ring faith

That in this life I may yet find myself.

Nay, worse than this, the dread doth haunt me oft

That this bewilderment of doubt may run

Through all the lives that I shall live on earth.

Grand Master:

The picture, which thou sawest, my good friend,

Before my spirit stood out strong and clear

Whilst thou didst paint it in those vivid words;

And as thou didst speak further, then it grew

In breadth before mine eyes until I saw

How cosmic aims are linked to human fate.

(Exeunt.)

(After an interval, the two Masters of Ceremonies enter.)

First Master of Ceremonies:

Dear brother, I must openly confess

That our Grand Master’s clemency exceeds

My comprehension, when I needs must see

What bitter wrong our foes inflict on us.

Although they will not study what we teach

They scruple not to paint us in men’s eyes

As heretics and messengers from hell.

Second Master of Ceremonies:

His clemency from our own teaching flows.

Can we proclaim life’s highest aim to be

To understand the soul of every man,

And then misunderstand our foes ourselves?

There are amongst them many men indeed

Who follow in the footsteps of the Christ.

Yet even from the souls of such as these

The essence of our teachings must be veiled,

Though they should hear them with the outer ear.

Remember, brother, how reluctantly,

And with what inner conflict, thou wast led

To grant admission to the spirit-voice.

We know, from what the master hath revealed,

That future men will see in Spirit-light

The lofty Being of the Sun, who trod

This Earth once only in a human frame.

This revelation we with joy believe

And gladly follow where our leaders tread.

Yet but a short time since these weighty words

Were said by him whom we acclaim as Head:

‘Your souls must ripen slowly, if indeed

With eyes prophetic ye would see today

That which the men of later days shall see

And ye must not imagine,’ said our chief,

‘That after passing one initial test

Ye can have sight of things that are to be.

When ye shall have attained to certainty

That all mankind must needs be born again,

Ye then will have to meet the second test

Which sets your personal illusions free

To dim the radiance of the Spirit-light.’

This solemn warning, too, the master gave:

‘Ofttimes reflect, in meditation’s hour,

How psychic monsters, of illusion born,

Beset the path of those who seek the light.

Who falls their victim may see even there

Human existence where the Spirit seeks

To be revealed to Spirit-light alone.

If ye would worthily prepare yourselves

To recognize, by help of inner sight,

The Light of Wisdom streaming from the Christ,

Over yourselves ye must keep watch and ward

Lest personal illusion blind you then

When your souls think that it is furthest off.’

With this injunction clearly held in view

We soon shall rid us of the vain belief

That in these times we can transmit these truths,

Whose beauty we confess within our souls,

In easy manner to posterity.

Rather must we take comfort from the fact,

That we today can meet so many souls

In whom the seed, although they know it not,

Already hath been sown for future lives.

This seed can only manifest itself

In man, by opposition to those Powers

With which it later will ally itself.

In all this hatred which pursues us now

I do but see the seed of future love.

First Master of Ceremonies:

Certain it is that highest truth’s intent

Can only in such manner be disclosed;

Yet hard it seems in this our present age

To shape our lives to follow out its aim.

Second Master of Ceremonies:

Here too I follow out our master’s words:

‘It is not granted unto all mankind

To live Earth’s future stages in advance.

But individuals there must ever be

Who can foresee what later days will bring,

And who devote their feeling to those Powers

Which loose all being from its present ties

To guard it safe for all Eternity.’

The curtain falls, while the two Masters of Ceremonies are still in the hall