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He is sitting rigidly as if in a trance. He is
dressed in white.
voice. He is guarding the door on the Present’s
left.
cent cloak of gossamer. He is on the right
guarding another door.
the stage; they meet to the left front of the
throne and talk as if they were
afraid of being overheard.
unpleasant.
amiable young friend, that in my
experience, when our master sits
too long upon that throne which he calls The
Place of Truth—it is
very grievous—but I am obliged to confess that we are apt to
be-
come totally extinct.
think of something to do?
his reverie.
and I have no Reality. We are ever-changing
phantoms.
it, or we die.
he'll find it out at last and we shall disappear.
calls the mystery of being for a while, and we hide
ourselves and
wait until he grows a little weary of beatitude. With delicate feet
Doubt enters his mind, and we spring out once more to trouble his
ageless
peace
may call her?
place but this?
forth and everything we see and know sprang from her
great
wonder. But we call to her in vain. She comes like the storm
at her
own will.
to his feet. Agony! agony! Save me! save me!
and my arts are nothing to him.
die too, old dotard—don’'t forget yourself.
myself.
strange joys, forgotten mysteries. I have given him a taste
of
praise, of rapture and swift movement.
old fool? Leave that to me. If that will win us life, I'll
make
him feel the keen edge of joy. I'll make him feel the honey in his
veins and the loud heartbeats that silence wisdom.
scattered their ashes many times.
is not withered memory that tempts, nor aching limbs
that make
men long for life
fire I give shall work new changes on him.
now they pass into my veins.
hate your dreary lies. I am the source of life; ‘tis you
must die.
would die untold if it were not for me. The law is
this, it is the
law of Time. And you are going where you must, and dreaming
once again the fair false dreams I wrote of ages since.
your “ring of Time.” But I defy it! I'll bring him
new dreams.
Titanic, Godlike dreams, dreams of power, dreams that he
moves
the very pulse of earth.
torn those dreams in fragments.
the sea, the air.
been king of air and water and of fire itself: in
the past before this
earth was battered into shape the spirit that now breathes in
him
was free; it knew no power that could keep it back. The fire was
a
rapture and the air a whirl of light. No solid earth shut out the
quick ecstasy of
beings who are now men blinded behind a little
veil of flesh—and wondering at
their helplessness.
ring of time.
to him.
ing, killing, raging to defend his own.
dance the Bacchic dance.
ecstasy of being, that I knew but now when I cast
away the images
of thought and pierced my heart to find its secret home?
I stood naked in a dark and bleak eternity and filled it with my
exultation.
rapture which delights in destroying its very being. I
have
scattered the broken lights of day and live in a silent place where
time and change are dumb.
wine from Cyprus.
of thought
grows and creeps about me holding
delight to my eyes and horror
to the deep joy that gleams within my heart.
not weep so, but tell me did men of old
listen to their own hearts
and learn from them what nothing else could tell?
away from this dread place I can show you the scripts
of the wisest
among them.
Central Truth casts a bewilderment upon men’s thoughts.
bag)
One inscription from Egypt. Three sentences from
Sanchara-
chaya and from the Tao—.
them all.
light of the moon."
asking for our master. She says he alone can help
her.
and have found the philosopher's stone. She is saddened
by
the ebb and flow of life, and seeks to know the mystery
of being.
you would heal her with a touch.
here.
I will go to her
come to the record room, and I will show you how a
certain man
named Adam—
great joy.
away, both of you
and dare to disturb my peace no more.
safe for millions of years if you had not begun your
foolish story
about Adam.
safe. My records cannot be blotted out; they are stamped
upon
the stuff of life, and will recur eternally.
swallows us.
told me that unless we can persuade him to rejoice in wine
and
song and women, home and all the rest of it, we ourselves must
fade and
fade until we die?
and I? Philosopher without wisdom, have you no
common
sense?
to ask questions of the
Past.
merges into his, and as a matter of fact I make my
dinner off both
of you
sacrifice by way of pretence. But in
reality! no! no! Why it's
downright murder! Our master sleeps too well; even now
his
trance approaches the state from which there is no return. I feel
it in
my very bones.
deep in the Ancients? Their inspirations can coil like
serpents in
our hearts, if you had not disturbed us with your foolish wench, he
would soon
have been beguiled.
is a bit of fine writing to us when the passions rage?
them with thought, and peopled them with images of joy?
and all the stars of heaven sprang out to listen to
it.
the stars.
be desired? It is the dreams and images of poets and
singers that
has made a mantle of sweet sounds and cast it over them so that
their passions may bring them an unearthly joy.
loveliness!
chantment in her breath, a thunder cloud in her
hair. “He knows,
he knows, that she is nothing but a carcase like any other
beast.
batters the old fellow, who takes
refuge on a high place whence he
looks down like a gargoyle.)
from this old devourer!
death can never touch you.
I cannot know you. I am a delight, a rapture beyond,
always
beyond—.
tender rainbow tints.
blaze and burn up all my fancies in their light. I would
not die.
Thousands of years I must wander 'mid phantoms of
time.
cry of the whole world. It is the cry of the
unmeasured hosts of
souls. If you would go to them and rule them, the fair soul of
earth would lay her head upon your heart and hang her lovely
arms about your neck and sing songs of your noble deeds to
all things.
a secret shrine of blessedness.
row. He does not care for Happiness.
preme desire, his brief madness can but accomplish
brief allay-
ments.
of Beings. This one woman saved, means that the world
would
burn with rapture.
supreme desire is to be without the supreme desire. That
I have
known.
trance).
so young.
while the tides of life are in the
flood. Then they can carry you
beyond all mortal hope. For those who wait for the
dark time of
feeble will can only sink and drown.
joy).
of truth.
Come away, come away, we shall die, we shall
die.
cry to you. Can you master them?
death and gives us them to drink out of your cup!
die.
of the throne.)
vest, thirsters after life?
great master, how it has killed this child; he was so full of joy
and life.
phantoms know themselves as phantoms, and the goal is
reached.
in the fields of Time but I remain. The ten winds may
sweep
through Space, but the dust returns to its own place.
the great.
must be the servant at your gate
all possession is a burden, for I see Time as it is
without fear.