(Capesius rises from his seat; as it were arousing himself out of deep thought.)
Capesius:
Did I not clearly feel within my soul
That which Johannes, dreaming over there,
Wrought as the pictures of his longing heart?
Within me glowed to life thoughts not mine own—
Such as he only could originate.
The being of his soul lived in mine own,
I saw him younger grown, as he beheld
Himself through vain illusion, and did mock