THE PASSION PLAY
Day was dawning. The first rays of the morning sun, ever broader and brighter, were darting through the air, whose blue waves surged and quivered under the flaming couisers of the ascending god of day. Aphrodite seemed to have bathed and left her veil in the foam of the wild mountain stream into which the penitent Magdalene had tried to throw herself. Apollo in graceful sport, had gathered the little white clouds to conceal the goddess and they waved and fluttered merrily in the morning breeze around the rushing chariot. Then, as if the thundering hoof-beats of the fiery chargers had echoed from the vaulted arch of the firmament, the solemn roar of cannon announced the approach of the other god, the poor, unassuming, scourged divinity in His beggar-garb. The radiant charioteer above curbed his impatient steeds and gazed down from his serene height upon the conflict, the torturing, silent conflict of suffering upon the bloody battlefield of the timorous earth. Smiling, he shook his divine head, for he could not understand the cause of all this. Why should a god impose upon Himself such misery and humiliation! But he knows that He was a more powerful god, for he was forced to fly from the zenith when the former rose from His grave.--So thought Helios, glancing over at the gentle goddess Selene, whose wan face, paling in his presence, was turned full toward the earth. She could not bear to behold the harrowing spectacle, she was the divinity of peace and slumber, so, averting her mild countenance, she bade Helios farewell and floated away to happier realms.
Blest gods, ye who sit throned in eternal beauty, eternal peace; ye who are untouched by the grief and suffering of the human race, who descend to earth merely to taste the joys of mortals when it pleases ye to add them to your divine delights, look down upon the gods whom sorrowing humanity, laden with the primeval curse, summoned from his heaven to aid, where none of ye aided, to give what none of ye gave, the heart's blood of love! Gaze from your selfish pleasures, ye gay Hellenic deities, behold from your Valhalla, grim divinities of the Norsemen, look hither, ye dull, stupid idols of ancient India, hither where, from love for the human race, a god bleeds upon the martyr's cross--behold and turn pale! For when the monstrous deed is done, and the night has passed. He will cast aside His humble garb and shine in His divine glory. Ye will then be nothing but the rainbow which shimmers in changeful hues above His head! "Excelsior!" echoes a voice through the pure morning-sky and: "Gloria in excelsis, Deo!" peals from the church, as the priests chant the early mass.
An hour later the prince stopped before the door in a carriage to convey the countess to the Passion Theatre, for the way was long and rough.
He gave the Gross sisters strict orders to have everything ready for Countess Wildenau's departure at the close of the performance.
"The carriages must stand packed with the luggage before the theatre when we come out. The new maid must not be late."
Madeleine von Wildenau made no objection to all this, she was very pale and deeply agitated. Ludwig Gross, who was also just going to the theatre, was obliged to enter the carriage, too; the countess would listen to no refusal. The prince looked coldly at him. Ludwig Gross raised his hat, saying courteously:
"May I request an introduction?"
The lady blushed. "Herr Gross, head-master of the drawing-school!" She paused a moment in embarrassment, Ludwig's bronze countenance still retained its expectant expression.
"The Hereditary Prince of Metten-Barnheim," said the prince, relieving the countess' embarrassment, and raising his hat.