Do I not feel these words of thine are but The cloak of forces: forces of the soul That exile me from thee unto those words Which lie remote from all thy spirit-paths? Worlds I have no desire for,--since I must Deep in my soul adore that world of thine. The opposition I can lightly bear Which from without now menaceth my work; Yea, e'en if all my plans were broken up Upon this opposition;--I could bear. But I cannot forego these worlds of thine. FELIX BALDE: A man cannot attain the spirit-world By seeking to unlock the gates himself. Once didst thou give me pleasure, when of old Of thine invention thou wast wont to speak-- Then, when enlightenment was granted thee By what thou didst not strive to understand. Thou wast far nearer to the mystic mood. To strive for nought,--but just to live in peace, Expectancy the soul's whole inner life:-- That is the mystic mood. When waked in man It leads his inmost soul to realms of light. Our outward tasks do not endure such mood. If them thou wouldst through mysticism seek, Mystic illusion will destroy thy life. STRADER: I need thee sorely;--yet I find thee not-- The being that unites us thou dost scorn. Yet how can men be found to undertake True cosmic work if mystics all decline To leave their individuality? FELIX BALDE: Into thy world of active daily life The tender being of clairvoyant sight Cannot be introduced, for it will fade E'en as its welcome border line appears. In faith devout, revering spirit-sway With spirit-sight reposing in the heart:-- Thus mystics should draw nigh the world of deeds. CAPESIUS: And if they strive to tread it otherwise The work of error they will then behold; But wisdom's radiance they will never see. I once saw clearly through another's soul. I knew that I saw truly what I saw. Yet only that soul's error could I see. This was my fate for spoiling spirit-sight By my desire for outer deeds on earth. STRADER: Thus speaks Capesius who hath advanced Beyond me far upon the path of souls. And yet my spirit-vision only wakes When thoughts of action wholly fill my soul; And it is flooded with a living hope That for the spirit it may build a shrine And kindle there on earth the light that shines So warmly through the spirit-worlds on high And seeks, through human sense-activities, A new home in the daily life of earth. Am I a son of error?--not thy son, Ye wide-flung spirit-realms where wisdom dwells? (Strader turns away, for a moment, from the companions with whom he has been conversing; and now he has the following spirit-vision--Benedictus, Maria, Ahriman appear--in the guise of his thought-forms but nevertheless in real spirit-intercourse; first Benedictus and Ahriman, then Maria.) BENEDICTUS: