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.
(After an interval the Grand Master and Simon enter.)
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.
My heart is sore indeed to find that men In ignorance assail a proffered aid Whose only object is to do them good.
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.
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.