BEELZEBUB I set me to it. Where is the clay? (_He scrapes the earth with his hands and begins to model._) BEELZEBUB Out of the dust, Out of the slime, A little rust, And a little lime. Muscle and gristle, Mucin, stone Brayed with a pestle, Fat and bone. Out of the marshes, Out of the vaults, Matter crushes Gas and salts. What is this you call a mind, Flitting, drifting, pale and blind, Soul of the swamp that rides the wind? Jack-o’-lantern, here you are! Dream of heaven, pine for a star, Chase your brothers to and fro, Back to the swamp at last you’ll go. Hilloo! Hilloo! THE VALLEY Hilloo! Hilloo! (_Beelzebub in scraping up the earth turns out a skull._) BEELZEBUB Old one, old one. Now ere I break you Crush you and make you Clay for my use, Let me observe you: You were a bold one Flat at the dome of you, Heavy the base of you, False to the home of you, Strong was the face of you, Strange to all fears. Yet did the hair of you Hide what you were. Now to re-nerve you— (_He crushes the skull between his hands and mixes it with the clay._) Now you are dust, Limestone and rust. I mold and I stir And make you again. THE VALLEY Again? Again? (_In the same manner_ BEELZEBUB _has fashioned several figures, standing them against the trees._) LOKI Now for the breath of life. As I remember You have done right to mold your creatures first, And stand them up. BEELZEBUB From gravitation I make the will. YOGARINDRA Out of sensation Comes his ill. Out of my mirror Springs his error. Who was so cruel To make him the slave Of me the sorceress, you the knave, And you the plotter to catch his thought, Whatever he did, whatever he sought? With a nature dual Of will and mind, A thing that sees, and a thing that’s blind. Come! to our dance! Something hated him Made us over him, therefore fated him. (_They join hands and dance._) LOKI Passion, reason, custom, ruels, Creeds of the churches, lore of the schools, Taint in the blood and strength of soul. Flesh too weak for the will’s control; Poverty, riches, pride of birth, Wailing, laughter, over the earth. Here I have you caught again. Enter my web, ye sons of men. YOGARINDRA Look in my mirror! Isn’t it real? What do you think now, what do you feel? Here is treasure of gold heaped up; Here is wine in the festal cup. Tendrils blossoming, turned to whips, Love with her breasts and scarlet lips. Breathe in their nostrils. BEELZEBUB Falsehood’s breath, Out of nothingness into death. Out of the mold, out of the rocks, Wonder, mockery, paradox! Soaring spirit, groveling flesh, Bait the trap, and spread the mesh. Give him hunger, lure him with truth, Give him the iris hopes of Youth. Starve him, shame him, fling him down, Whirled in the vortex of the town. Break him, age him, till he curse The idiot face of the universe. Over and over we mix the clay,— What was dust is alive to-day. THE THREE Thus is the hell-born tangle wound Swiftly, swiftly round and round.