THE TRAGEDY OF MAN. 
 
THE TRAGEDY 
 
 OF MAN 
 
 Dramatic Poem 
 
 BY 
 IMRE MADACH 
 
 Translated from the original Hungarian 
 BY 
 
 WILLIAM N. LOEW 
 
 Of the New York Bar 
 
 NEW YORK 
 THE ARCADIA PRESS 
 
1 
 
 , 
 
 
PR 328 / 
 
 tvs 
 
 1 40? 
 
 DEDICATION. 
 
 TO 
 
 Dr. Antal Eugene, 
 Bftrd Imre, 
 Berko D. G6za, 
 Rev. Csekes B61a, 
 Er6nyi Ervin, 
 Fecs6 Imre, 
 Rev. H&mborszky N., 
 Rev. Hank6 Julius, 
 Rev. Harsdnyi Stephen, 
 Kemny George, 
 Koh&nyi TihamSr E., 
 
 Rev. KOV&CS Coloman, 
 
 Rev. Kuthy Zoltau, 
 
 Rev. Messerschmidt GSza, 
 
 Dr. Mogyorossy Arcadius, 
 
 Rev. Ndn^ssy Louis, 
 
 Pesty Julius, 
 
 R&cz-R6nay Alexander, 
 
 Dr. Singer Michael, 
 
 Rev. Szepessy Julius, 
 
 Rev. Varlaky Alexander, 
 
 Warm William, 
 
 the editors of the 
 twenty-two Hungarian newspapers 
 
 in the U. S. 
 
 in grateful appreciation of their noble work in mould- 
 ing the Magyars in America into loyal American 
 citizenship, this book is respectfully dedicated. 
 

INTRODUCTION. 
 
 IN order fully to comprehend the tremendous diffi- 
 culties attending the translation into English of a 
 work like the present, it is necessary to understand 
 that a broad gulf separates the Hungarian Magyar 
 language from the English and all other European 
 languages. 
 
 Not even of Aryan origin, its construction can not 
 be explained according to the principles of Aryan 
 languages and its conciseness and strength cannot 
 be transferred. This is not an apology, it is the 
 statement of a fact. 
 
 To produce, even approximately, the sense of an 
 expression, it is frequently necessary to render one 
 Hungarian word into five or six of any other Euro- 
 pean language; hence the gigantic difficulty of trans- 
 lating a masterpiece of Hungarian literature into 
 any Aryan language must of necessity be greater 
 than that of translation from a kindred idiom. 
 
 In the Magyar, the most perfect of all the Turan- 
 ian languages, there has been produced a great 
 literature, much of which is practically unknown 
 outside of Hungary. 
 
 A comparatively small nation, Hungary has pro- 
 duced an overwhelming amount of poetical writings, 
 and if the glowing Oriental imagery, the profound 
 Occidental philosophy, the striking originality of the 
 so-called " trio of the revolution " viz : Petofl, Arany 
 and Vorosmarty had emanated from English, French 
 or German minds, the hearts of all the nations of the 
 civilized world would have responded with greater 
 
INTRODUCTION 8 
 
 enthusiasm than to the production of Heine, Tenny- 
 son or Alfred de Musset. 
 
 Do not misunderstand me. These three names here 
 are used for the purposes of illustration only and 
 with no desire to convey to the reader the idea as 
 if we wanted Petofl to be thought to be the Magyar 
 Heine, or Arany the Magyar Tennyson, and Voros- 
 marty the Magyar Musset. 
 
 Certainly not. The three Magyar poets rank 
 higher and tower over and above the German, Eng- 
 lish and French poets named, and yet, while the 
 civilized world knows it loves and admires Heine, 
 Tennyson and Musset, the three God-born sons of 
 Song of Magyarland, Petofl, Vorosmarty and Arany, 
 are, comparatively speaking, unknown to it. 
 
 The most brilliant creation of Hungary's dramatic 
 literature, the " Tragedy of Man " by Imre Madflch, 
 has not yet been presented to English speaking 
 peoples. 
 
 And yet it is a work sublimely grand in its con- 
 ception. 
 
 What Goethe thought of in the second part of his 
 " Faust " was brought by Madden into concrete form, 
 beautiful and poetical. 
 
 However, I am relieved from the distressing con- 
 dition I would find myself in of being obliged to give 
 my own opinion of the beauty, splendor and grandeur 
 of the work in question, thus subjecting myself to the 
 charge of being partial. Fortunately I am enabled to 
 insert here, instead of giving my own views and 
 opinions, the weighty views and opinions of a Grand 
 Master of Magyar literature. 
 
 I copy here from the XVI. Chapter of " A History 
 of Hungarian Literature" by Frederick Riedl, Ph.D., 
 in Edmund Gosse's Literatures of the World, Lon- 
 don, William Heinemann MCMVI. 
 
9 INTRODUCTION 
 
 The Tragedy of Man is a poem of the type of 
 Goethe's Faust and Byron's Cain. It is not one man, 
 nor even a group of men, that the poet has chosen as 
 the subject of his theme, but, boldly enough, the 
 whole of mankind. His hero is Adam, the eternal 
 type of humanity. The work displays the whole his- 
 tory of man, not merely his past, but his present, and 
 even his future. We witness the whole process of 
 man's development, up to the time when the human 
 race will be extinguished, and its earthly home be- 
 come frozen and uninhabitable. Seen through the 
 eyes of the poet, that history appears a huge, grim 
 tragedy. The problem for the poet to solve was, 
 how to compress such an immense subject within 
 the narrow limit of a single drama. 
 
 The opening scene is laid on biblical ground, in 
 Eden. Adam yields to the temptation of Lucifer 
 and tastes the fruit of the Tree of Knowledge. After 
 losing Eden, the fallen man and his mate have to 
 endure the hardships of exile, and they long to cast 
 a glance into the far-off future to see what is to be 
 the outcome of their toils and sufferings. 
 
 Lucifer, whose aim is to destroy the newly created 
 human race at the very outset, causes the pair to 
 sink into a deep sleep, and evokes a succession of 
 visions which reveal the future of humanity, and in 
 which Adam beholds scene after scene of the world's 
 future, himself taking an active part in each. 
 
 The hero of each vision, or of each epoch, is Adam 
 himself, the eternal Man, in whom are embodied the 
 most characteristic features and the leading ideas of 
 each age. The visions represent for Adam, and, in 
 consequence, for the whole human race which he 
 typifies, a long series of what the French call illusions 
 perdues. In each vision or each part of the drama; 
 we see new aspirations, only to be followed by fresh 
 
INTRODUCTION 10 
 
 disillusion. Mankind for ever pursues new ideals, 
 but is for ever deceived and baulked. 
 
 In the first vision Adam apears as Pharaoh in 
 Egypt, while Eve has the form of a slave. Adam 
 sees clearly that the fundamental conception of the 
 Egyptian State is, the millions for the one the 
 ruler. Adam wishes to destroy that conception, and 
 he longs to free both himself and his fellow men from 
 the fetters in which it binds them. 
 
 The next vision shows the realisation of his hope. 
 Adam reappears in the personality of Miltiades, in 
 democratic Athens. But alas, his faith in the power 
 of democracy is vain. His ideal is realised, yet its 
 realisation brings only disappointment. The Athenian 
 mob cannot make a worthy use of freedom, and pro- 
 ceeds to pass judgment upon its great leader Milti- 
 ades, demanding his death. In the soul of Miltiades, 
 smarting beneath the cruel defeat of his hopes, bitter 
 thoughts arise. He mocks at his own aspirations 
 and calls that age alone happy which denies virtue 
 and does not dream of or struggle towards lofty 
 ideals. 
 
 And such an age does arrive, when man's one 
 purpose has become the pursuit of pleasure. We 
 find Adam at a bacchanalian feast in the sensual, 
 dissolute world of the late Roman Empire. All at 
 once, at the orgies of the insane revellers there ap- 
 pears an awful guest, the Plague. The Apostle Peter 
 holds aloft the Cross, and preaches to the terrified 
 Roman world the gospel of Christianity and asceti- 
 cism. 
 
 What fate awaits the new ideal is shown in the 
 next vision, where Adam, as Tancred the Crusader, 
 sees how a perverted religion exalts celibacy and 
 stigmatises pure love as a rrhuo ; he sees how in 
 tin- r.yxantlne Christian world Christianity has de- 
 
11 INTRODUCTION 
 
 generated into :i religion of petty dogmas, ridiculous 
 controversies and brutal intolerance. Men have lost 
 the spirit, and heed but the letter. What has become 
 of the sacred religion of love and self-sacrifice? 
 Adam (still in the vision) yearns for something al- 
 together different from this, which has filled him 
 with nothing but bitter disappointment. " I am 
 exhausted and long for rest." 
 
 In the following scene Adam is the astronomer 
 Kepler, absorbed in his studies, and keeping aloof 
 from the world. But science alone cannot yield him 
 satisfaction: in his quiet laboratory he yearns for 
 great reforms, and heroic deeds, which should fash- 
 ion the world anew. 
 
 And the age of colossal events arrives, the age 
 which sees the ancient world totter to its foun- 
 dations and sink with a great crash into ruin. The 
 day of the French Revolution has dawned, and Adam 
 reappears as Danton. But the prediction concerning 
 the French Revolution, that, like Saturn, it would 
 destroy its own children, is fulfilled. The Revolu- 
 tion turns against its heroes and Danton dies oil 
 the scaffold. 
 
 Then we come to the present age. Adam, who 
 had wished for a State founded on liberty and order, 
 finds himself in such a State : he has become a citizen 
 of London. Yet disappointment awaits him even 
 here. The world has indeed become wide, but of a 
 dead level of mediocrity. Love itself is to be bought 
 and sold. The whole world is an immense market, 
 in which none of the higher impulses find play, and 
 the soul of Adam is possessed with the idea that 
 this stream of people, this crowd filling the streets 
 of the great metropolis, is engaged in the one task 
 of digging its own grave. Adam sees the vast grave, 
 but sees above it, while all the rest sink into its 
 
INTRODUCTION 12 
 
 depths, Eve freed from all that is base, radiant in 
 her purity, flying heavenward as the genius of Love. 
 
 The ninth scene is laid in the future, in the new 
 socialistic world that is to be. Adam, as a travel- 
 ling scholar, visits the State of the future, the 
 Phalanstere, established in accordance with the ideas 
 of the French socialists. The whole world is one 
 vast settlement ; the individual has no power or 
 initiative, for everything is determined by the com- 
 mon will. The idea of Fatherland has long ceased 
 to exist. Every man is but a part of a huge ma- 
 chine, the Phalanstere. No man has a name, but 
 merely a number, like a prisoner. Every action is 
 in conformity with the common good, but this con- 
 formity has the lifeless perfection only to be found 
 in a machine. Art and poetry have become super- 
 fluous, it is only the useful which has a right to 
 exist. The horse and the dog are only to be found 
 in archaeological museums: their place has been 
 taken by machinery. 
 
 The heads of babies are carefully examined by 
 phrenologists, in order that their careers may be 
 judiciously chosen. The divine Plato himself is con- 
 sidered insane here, and fit only for prison. Adam, 
 however, is repelled by such a world, so like a vast 
 automaton, uninspired by a single grand idea, and 
 illumined by no lofty virtue. 
 
 And at length the end approaches, the dreary, sad, 
 inglorious end. Adam sees mankind rapidly nearing 
 the time when the last feeble spark of human life 
 will be extinguished. The globe of the sun, shorn of 
 its rays, so that Adam takes its blood-red disc for 
 the moon, sheds its dim light upon a frozen world. 
 The last men of the race, a few degenerate Esqui- 
 maux, are dragging out a miserable existence. When 
 Adam arrives among them they take him for a god, 
 
13 INTRODUCTION 
 
 and request that he would see that there were fewer 
 Esquimaux but more seals. 
 
 So this is the goal to which all his struggles and 
 aspirations are to lead, Adam thinks. His wretched- 
 ness is increased by the sight of Eve, as the mate of 
 an Esquimaux, who humbly offers his wife's love to 
 the stranger in accordance with the custom of the 
 land. " I I embrace this woman," cries Adam in 
 horror, " I who once held Aspasia in my arms ! " 
 
 La farce est jou&e. Adam, who has stood beside 
 both the cradle and the tomb of mankind, awakes 
 from the awful dream. Was this to be the future 
 of the race, his race? At the moment of waking, 
 the visions just seen appear so terrible to him that 
 he decides to put a speedy end to the long, painful 
 struggle, of the dreadful issue of which he has been 
 warned by those prophetic dreams yes, to put an 
 end to it, or, rather, to prevent its ever beginning 
 by stopping the stream of human life at its source 
 by his own self-destruction. But just as he is step- 
 ping on the brink of the precipice, to carry out his 
 fatal resolve, Eve approaches and whispers in his 
 ear a secret, the first secret of the young world: 
 she is going to become a mother. Adam sinks into 
 the dust crying, " Lord, Thou hast vanquished me ! " 
 And the skies open, and God looks down upon the 
 kneeling Adam and strengthens him for the coming 
 struggle, in which he is not to be left without help. 
 In the face of life's adversities God bids him 
 " Strive and Trust ! " and with these words the 
 drama ends. 
 
 Critics have commented on this work from two 
 different points of view. Some say that the dreams 
 were recognised by the poet himself not to be in ac- 
 cordance with historical truth, and were deliberately 
 chosen by Lucifer with the diabolical aim of driving 
 
INTRODUCTION 14 
 
 Adam to despair and suicide, and so destroying in 
 hm the whole human race. Others explain the drama 
 by saying that the great events and epochs of history 
 appeared to Mad^ch himself in the gloomy light in 
 which he depicts them. According to those commen- 
 tators, Mad&ch, the poet of disillusion, who even in 
 his lyric poems generally lamented some disappoint- 
 ment, saw in the history of the world nothing but a 
 constant shattering of the hopes which spring up 
 from generation to generation. Every age has its 
 ideals, but even when reached they prove delusive. 
 
 Is man's history then really what Petofi said of it, 
 in a dark hour of doubt and hopelessness? " We 
 are like the tree which flowers and fades: like the 
 waves which rise and fall: like the traveller, who 
 mounts a hill only to descend again. And so it goes 
 on to all eternity, up and down, up and down." 
 
 If we take that view of The Tragedy of Man, its 
 teaching is that the alternation of hope and disil- 
 lusion, of ardent enthusiasm and bitter disappoint- 
 ment, which in other of his works is Mad&ch's 
 favourite theme, is the inevitable lot of mortals, 
 and the whole drama may be regarded as an ex- 
 pansion of Schopenhauer's well-known dictum, that 
 history is a painful nightmare weighing down the 
 mind of humanity. 
 
 But is there then no consolation in this long series 
 of disappointments? Does no stray, cheering sun- 
 beam break through the darkness? The poet answers 
 in the words of God, words which, in my opinion, 
 express the main idea of the book: "Search not 
 for the secret which a divine wisdom has mercifully 
 hidden from thy sight." God points to love and 
 spiritual aspirations for consolation, and sets the 
 happiness of individual life against the unhappy 
 the race. Even if the history of mankind 
 
15 INTRODUCTION 
 
 as a whole should prove sad and disappointing, God 
 has blessed the life of the individual with many joys 
 and hopes. 
 
 This book of Mad&ch is the first in Hungarian 
 literature which deals not with the life of one man, 
 or of the nation, but with mankind as a whole. But 
 The Tragedy of Man marks a new departure in 
 other respects as well. There are two contending 
 elements in it, imagination and reflection. The 
 author's ideas do not always rise to the poetic level, 
 and we sometimes have metrical prose rather than 
 true poetry, though as prose it is undoubtedly of 
 high quality. This peculiarity in its language makes 
 the poem a characteristic product of its age. 
 
 The same transition from imagination to philo- 
 sophical reflection which we find in it, is to be traced 
 on a larger scale in the whole of the literature of the 
 period. It is one of the defects of MadHch's poems 
 that his philosophical reflection is not beautified by 
 imagination, but remains abstract and logical. An- 
 other imperfection is in the drawing of his characters. 
 
 The plan of the poem demands that at each epoch 
 of the world's history a complete transformation 
 should take place in the soul of Adam, but as such a 
 change is only conceivable as the result of a long 
 process of development, it could not possibly occur 
 as abruptly as it is made to do. For instance, we 
 see that in the mind of Adam, as the Egyptian 
 Pharaoh, the conception of a thoroughly democratic 
 state springs into being instantaneously, but this is 
 manifestly impossible, for at that period all the 
 psychological conditions and historical precedents 
 which could engender such a notion were lacking. 
 Whereas mental growth is really a gradual modifi- 
 cation of existing ideas, in the poem there are noth- 
 ing but sudden and startling contrasts. Adam sets 
 
INTRODUCTION 16 
 
 his heart upon the exact opposite of the conditions 
 which have proved so unsatisfactory. 
 
 As regards the other important character in the 
 drama, Eve, the eternal woman, it must be confessed 
 that in all her various transformations she is more 
 like an abstraction that a real living woman. Yet in 
 spite of these imperfections, the conception of the 
 whole wondrous course of the human race is very 
 grand, and the genius displayed in every detail very 
 great. 
 
 Imre Mad&ch was born on the 21st of January, 
 1821, at Also-Hregova, in the County of Neograd in 
 Hungary, the scion of an ancient, noble Magyar 
 family. 
 
 The masterwork of his life, The Tragedy of Man, 
 he finished in 1860. He died on the 4th day of 
 October, 1864. 
 
 Whether I have succeeded in giving in the English 
 version even a faint idea of the beauty and the 
 splendour of the original Magyar, must be judged 
 by you, gentle reader, and by the critics. All I know 
 is, that if my ability as a translator from Hungarian 
 into English would be in equal ratio with the love 
 and the devotion wherewith I made the translation, 
 I'd fear no criticism however severe and exacting. 
 I assure the gentle reader to have done my work 
 " Con amore." 
 
 WILLIAM N. LOEW. 
 
 NEW YORK, October, 1908. 
 
SCENE I. 
 
 (Heaven. The Lord, on his throne, surrounded by a 
 halo. Hosts of kneeling angels. The four arch- 
 angels standing by the throne. Dazzling bright- 
 
 CHOBUS OF ANGELS. 
 Glory be unto our Lord on high, 
 Whose one commanding word to all gave birth ; 
 Who all can end with one glance of his eye. 
 Praise him ye Heavens above, praise him, O earth ! 
 He is all might, all wisdom, all delight ; 
 Our part is but the shadow o'er us thrown ; 
 And for this boundless grace, we now unite, 
 Our songs of adoration, to intone. 
 Embodied is the thought, great, infinite, 
 Complete, the whole creation, and our Lord 
 Awaits from all that breathe, but to unite, 
 To pay their worship's dole, with one accord. 
 
 THE LOED. 
 
 The mighty masterpiece at last is done ; 
 The wheel revolves ; the master on his throne 
 Doth rest. A million aeons now 'twill move, 
 Before the smallest spoke shall faulty prove, 
 Arise, ye genii of my worlds ; I send 
 You now, upon a course which has no end ; 
 And rolling 'neath my feet, but let me gaze 
 Entranced, upon you, filled with proud amaze. 
 (The genii of the planets storm by, rolling stars of 
 17 
 
THE TRAGEDY 18 
 
 OF MAN 
 
 diverse magnitude; double stars, fixed stars, neb- 
 ulae and comets swarm about the throne. Soft 
 music of the spheres. 
 
 CHORUS OF ANGELS. 
 See the haughty ball of flame, 
 As he proudly rides the sky ; 
 Serving, though unwittingly, 
 Starry groups that 'bout him lie. 
 Here, like a dim and flick'ring lamp, 
 A tiny twinkling star appears; 
 But 'tis a measureless great world, 
 Which full a million creatures bears. 
 See! flashing, whirling now apart, 
 In combat those two spheres that meet, 
 Onward bearing in their course, 
 Traces of the struggle fleet. 
 One, trembling in the distance shines, 
 As thundering it rolls below ; 
 While on its bosom sweetest peace, 
 To a million hearts it doth bestow. 
 How modest shineth yonder star, 
 Soon to be called the star of love ; 
 The earthly race, with tender hand 
 She guards, a solace from above. 
 Here are the tombs of worlds destroyed; 
 Yonder rise others, newly born; 
 A warning voice unto the vain, 
 A ray of hope to the forlorn. 
 And there too, all order leaving, 
 The comet's image dread finds place ; 
 But to the Lord's voice barkening, 
 In order moves. Then beams thy face, 
 O youthful spirit dear, who bear'st 
 The ever changing mundane sphere, 
 
19 THE TRAGEDY 
 
 OF MAN 
 
 In mourning garments, festal robes; 
 In green, then white, thou dost appear. 
 Upon thee, Heaven's blessing rest! 
 Then forth, come forth, without delay. 
 Within thy narrow boundary, 
 Great minds will be at strife alway; 
 Both good and ill, both smile and tear, 
 Winter and spring, each will find place; 
 Light and shadow will be near; 
 The wrath of God, his tender grace. 
 
 (The genii of tJie stars retreat.) 
 
 THE ARCHANGEL GABRIEL. 
 O thou who measurest infinite space, 
 All matter therein that is, hast made; 
 All greatness, boundless time and place, 
 Called into being, thy command obeyed: 
 Hosanna, Mind, to Thee! 
 
 (Prostrates himself.) 
 
 THE ARCHANGEL MICHAEL. 
 Thou all that's mutable or firm, 
 United hast by law divine ; 
 To time unending set a term, 
 Made man, and race of men for thine: 
 Hosanna, Force, to Thee! 
 
 (Prostrates himself.) 
 
 THE ARCHANGEL RAPHAEL. 
 
 And thou, o'erwhelming floods of bliss dost send, 
 The body waking thus to consciousness ; 
 Thy wisdom whereso'er it doth descend, 
 The whole earth blessing brings and happiness: 
 Hosanna, Love, to Thee! 
 
 (Prostrates himself.) 
 (Silence.) 
 
THE TRAGEDY 20 
 
 OF MAN 
 
 THE LORD. 
 
 Thou, Lucifer, in gloomy silence, stsind'st 
 Apart. Hast thou no word of praise for me? 
 Or finds my work no favor in thy sight? 
 
 LUCIFEE. 
 
 Wherefore should I be pleased, that elements 
 
 Diverse, new properties assume, existent 
 
 Before, though unrevealed, but still of which 
 
 Thou hadst not an idea; and if thou hadst 
 
 Thou would'st have had no power to alter them. 
 
 A few spheres, drawn and kneaded, together welded; 
 
 Just a few worms, to conscious being waked; 
 
 Till all shall be completed and cooled off, 
 
 When naught but senseless dross thereof remains, 
 
 Which man, espying, eagerly would seize 
 
 For his retort, as even thou mankind 
 
 In thine immense retort hast placed, and see'st 
 
 How he doth seethe and boil and simmer there, 
 
 And look upon himslf as God, like thee. 
 
 But should he sometime spoil and waste the broth, 
 
 Then all thy tardy wrath o'er him would burst. 
 
 But then, what would'st thou of a dilettante? 
 
 Thou'st written but a poem in thy praise, 
 
 But placed it in a mechanism poor, 
 
 And growest never weary of this lay, 
 
 This ever limited eternity. 
 
 But is this worthy of an aged sire, 
 
 This toy, fit but to move a childish heart? 
 
 Treading the mire, a tiny spark that mimics 
 
 Its Lord ; a caricature, and no true image; 
 
 With fate and liberty, pursuing each 
 
 The other, with all lack of harmony. 
 
 V 
 
21 THE TRAGEDY 
 
 OF MAN 
 
 THE LrOBD. 
 Homage, not censure, best beseemeth thee. 
 
 LUCIFEB. 
 
 Other than my nature, can I not 
 Appear; enough for praise, is this mean host 
 
 (Pointing toward the angels.) 
 Of faithful ones, and it beseems them too, 
 Thou brought'st them forth, as light the shadow 
 
 casts ; 
 But I have lived, from all eternity. 
 
 THE LORD. 
 
 Ha! shameless one! wast not of matter born? 
 Where was thy place, thy power, before I was? 
 
 LUCIFEB. 
 'Tis even this I fain would ask of thee. 
 
 THE LORD. 
 
 Before all time, it was my plan, and lived 
 In me, that which thou now accomplished see'st. 
 
 LUCIFEB. 
 
 Didst thou not ever feel a rift, a void; 
 A hindrance to thy mind, which still compelled 
 Thee to create, despite thyself? The name 
 Of this gigantic rift, is Lucifer, 
 The spirit of Negation from all time ; 
 And thou didst triumph o'er me; thus, my fate 
 Did seem, in that great struggle, calm to yield; 
 But now with powers renewed, I rise again. 
 Creating matter, thou didst give me scope, 
 Wherever life is found, there lurketh death, 
 
THE TRAGEDY 22 
 
 OF MAN 
 
 And near to happiness, despondency. 
 
 With light the shadow dwells; with hope, despair; 
 
 And where^o'er thou art, there too am I. 
 
 Thus knowing thee, thou deemest I could praise? 
 
 THE LOED. 
 
 Begone, rebellious spirit, far from me! 
 I could destroy thee, but 'tis not my will. 
 For aye, thou'rt banished from the spirit hosts 
 To battle with the dross, as alien scorned ; 
 And in thy never ending solitude, 
 Thou shalt be tortured with th' undying thought, 
 That vainly thou wilt shake thy chain of dust; 
 For 'gainst the Lord, thy strife can naught avail. 
 
 LUCIFEB. 
 
 Not so! thus easily thou canst not casi 
 Me off, like some mean tool, useless become. 
 Together we created ; I lay claim 
 Now to my part. 
 
 THE LORD (scornfully.) 
 Then be it as thou wilt! 
 See! on the earth, amid fair Eden's trees, 
 There in the centre, rise two mighty ones: 
 Henceforth they are accurs'd, and they are thine. 
 
 LUCIFEB. 
 
 How niggardly thou portionest; but thou 
 Art a great Lord. A foot of ground, for me, 
 Will serve; for whereso'er Negation's foot 
 
 Shall tread, 'twill bring destruction to thy world. 
 
 \ 
 
 CHORUS OF ANGELS. 
 
 Curs'd spirit, go, and from His face withdraw ! 
 Hosafcna, Lord! whose word gave us the law. 
 
23 THE TRAGEDY 
 
 OF MAN 
 
 SCENE II. 
 
 (The Garden of Eden. In the centre, the tree of 
 knowledge and the tree of life. Adam and Eve 
 walking, surrounded by all kinds of animals, fol- 
 lowing them in affectionate confidence. A halo 
 shines through the open gate of Heaven, and the 
 soft harmonies of the celestial choirs are heard. 
 Bright daylight.) 
 
 EVE. 
 
 To live, to live! how glorious, how sweet! 
 
 ADAM. 
 And to be lord of all one's eyes can meet. 
 
 EVE. 
 
 To feel above us all this loving care, 
 And for it all, but breathe our grateful prayer 
 To him who gave these joys. 
 
 ADAM. 
 
 I see thy lot 
 
 Dependence is I thirst, Eve, see'st thou not 
 Those tempting fruits? 
 
 EVE. 
 I'll pluck of them for thee. 
 
 THE LORD. 
 
 Abstain, abstain! All earth by my decree 
 Is yours, but those two trees, placed here by me ; 
 For evil lies in their enticing fruit, 
 And bitter death is their one attribute. 
 Sweet grapes are beck'ning thee from yonder vines '. 
 Now when the midday sun most sultry shines 
 The cool and shady bower invites to rest. 
 
THE TRAGEDY 24 
 
 OP MAN 
 
 ADAM. 
 A strange command, but grave seems the behest. 
 
 EVE. 
 
 Why fairer than the rest, should be these trees? 
 Since all he gave, why are forbidden these? 
 
 ADAM. 
 
 Why green the grass, why blue the Heaven above? 
 Heed we the mandate; follow me, my love. 
 
 (They enter a bower.) 
 EVE. 
 
 Lean on my breast, and I will fan thee, dear. 
 (A violent gust of wind. Lucifer appears amid the 
 foliage. ) 
 
 ADAM. 
 
 O woman, that strange sound did'st thou not hear? 
 Unknown before, as if some hostile power 
 O'er us did break? 
 
 EVE. 
 
 In trembling fear, I cower. 
 Mute have become the heavenly harmonies. 
 
 ADAM. 
 Here on thy breast, I seem to hear e'en these. 
 
 EVE. 
 
 And if obscured, the radiance on high, 
 I'd think, my love, to see it in thine eye. 
 How could I find it elsewhere, but in thee, 
 Whose warm desire hath e'en begotten me? 
 Just as the royal sun, with playful grace, 
 Who mirrors on the waves his radiant face, 
 Forgets in generous mood that which was done, 
 
25 THE TRAGEDY 
 
 OF MAN 
 
 That he might not forever be alone, 
 
 Hia own work was ; and when his own rays fade. 
 
 The image fair dissolves, which he has made. 
 
 ADAM. 
 
 O speak not so, Eve, shame not thus mine ear! 
 For where were sound, if there were none to hear? 
 Where were the rays, if not in glowing hues 
 They fell? And I, did I not thus diffuse, 
 Like tone and flower, my being too in thee, 
 In whom my other self I loving see? 
 
 (A bird sings in a neighboring tree.) 
 
 EVE. 
 
 Adam, dost understand what it doth sing 
 The love song of that foolish little thing? 
 
 ADAM. 
 
 And I was list'ning to the brooklet's song 
 The selfsame lay, as it did flow along. 
 
 LUCIFER. 
 
 Why do I wait? The deed that I have vowed, 
 To-day I'll carry out. I am not cowed ; 
 And yet, I hesitate; myself I ask, 
 Will it fulfill my chosen hellish task? 
 Will their desire for knowledge, by its stress, 
 Have power to rob them of their happiness? 
 Between them and my plans, their hearts' true love 
 Stands as a guard, a gift from Him above. 
 And yet, why fear? Who dares, succeeds alway. 
 (Another gust of wind. Lucifer appears before the 
 
 terrified human pair. Phe nimbus is obscured. 
 
 Lucifer laughs.) 
 
THE TRAGEDY 20 
 
 OF MAN 
 
 LUCIFEB. 
 
 At what are ye amazed? 
 
 (To Eve, who is about to run away.) 
 
 Fair woman, stay ! 
 One moment let me gaze upon thy charms. 
 
 (Eve stops, by degrees gaining confidence.) 
 (Aside.) This type will be a million times renewed. 
 (Aloud.) Thou'rt frightened, Adam? 
 
 ADAM. 
 
 By thee, thou monster vile! 
 
 LUCIFEB (Aside). 
 
 A fine progenitor for proud mankind! 
 (Aloud.) I give thee greeting, brother spirit. 
 
 ADAM. 
 
 Who 
 
 Art thou? From above, or from below, 
 Dost come? 
 
 LUCIFEB. 
 As thou wilt; to us it is the same. 
 
 ADAM. 
 I thought that we alone did here abide. 
 
 LUCIFEB. 
 
 Hoho! much else there is, thou knowest not, 
 And ne'er wilt know. Think'st thou perhaps, for this, 
 The holy sire created thee from dust, 
 That he might share his realm with thee alone? 
 Thou praisest him ; he holds thee in his hand ; 
 This, to avoid, commanding; that, to fear. 
 He guides and leads thee as he would a lamb, 
 So that of reason thou hast never need. 
 
27 THE TRAGEDY 
 
 OF MAN 
 
 ADAM. 
 
 Do I not think? have I not consciousness? 
 No feeling for the blessed sunshine's ray, 
 The sweetness and the bliss of living too, 
 The great and boundless mercy of my God, 
 Who maketh me a god here on the earth? 
 
 LUCIFEB. 
 
 Such consciousness the little worm might feel ; 
 The little worm that eateth of thy fruits ; 
 The eagle, too, that snatches the tiny bird. 
 What elevates thee, then, above all these? 
 'Tis but a spark that lies within thy breast, 
 The feeble flutt'ring of an endless power ; 
 Like waves, that, for a moment, light the stream, 
 Then lose themselves again in ocean's gray 
 And misty depths. Yes, thought, perhaps might be, 
 That dormant lies within thy breast; knowledge 
 To thee, it might bring, of thyself to judge 
 'Twixt good and ill, that thy fate thou might'st guide, 
 And throw aside the Providence above. 
 Perhaps for thee, 't were better, like the dung-worm, 
 To thrive within thy tiny sphere, there soft 
 Embedded lie, and without knowledge wear 
 Thy life away. To rest in our belief 
 Is sweet; but hard, though noble 'tis to stand 
 Alone. 
 
 ADAM. 
 These great thoughts make my brain to reel. 
 
 EVE. 
 Their beauty and their novelty inspire me. 
 
THE TRAGEDY 
 
 OF MAN 
 
 LUCIFER. 
 
 But knowledge of itself, were not enough: 
 Our great thoughts to embody, there must be 
 Immortality. What can this span 
 Of human life achieve? In these two trees, 
 These wondrous powers are hidden, but forbidden 
 By him who brought them forth. Of that, if thou 
 Dost eat, thou wilt become as wise as God; 
 And this will bless thee with eternal youth. 
 
 EVE. 
 Cruel indeed is he who did create us! 
 
 ADAM. 
 But if thou dost deceive? 
 
 (The nimbus becomes brighter.) 
 
 CELESTIAL CHOIB. 
 Woe to thee, world, beware! 
 Negation old is tempting thee! 
 
 THE LOBD. 
 O man, beware, beware! 
 
 ADAM. 
 That voice again I hear! Ah, me! 
 
 LUCIFER. 
 The branches swaying in air ! 
 
 Mankind to gain, 
 For our dark reign, 
 Ghosts of my train, 
 Your help now deign! 
 
 (A gust of wind. The rainbow is obscured.) 
 These trees are mine. 
 
29 THE TRAGEDY 
 
 OF MAN 
 
 ADAM. 
 And who art thou, who seemest of our kind? 
 
 LUCIFEB. 
 
 Yon eagle see, as 'mid the clouds he soars; 
 The mole, as blind within the earth he graves ; 
 Each one, to his own vision limited. 
 So hovers far beyond thy view, the realm 
 Of souls, and man to thee, the highest seems. 
 The dog's ideal too, is but a dog, 
 Who honored feels in his companionship ; 
 But e'en as thou upon him lookest down, 
 So too, we proud ones of the spirit world, 
 Look down upon the creatures of the earth. 
 
 ADAM. 
 So then, of that proud kingdom, thou art one? 
 
 LUCIFEB. 
 
 Yes, and 'mong the great ones, mightiest; 
 Who by the Lord's throne, once did stand, sharing 
 In all his greatest glory there. 
 
 ADAM. 
 
 Why then. 
 
 In that most glorious Heaven didst thou not stay? 
 Why cam'st among us, to this world of dust? 
 
 LUCIFEB. 
 
 It galled me, there to hold the second place; 
 That life, monotonous and regular, 
 Did fill me with disgust, with the insipid 
 Childish descant of the heavenly choir, 
 Praising eternally, both good and bad. 
 
THE TRAGEDY 30 
 
 OF MAN 
 
 I long for strife, disharmony ; new powers, 
 New worlds, wherein my soul, alone, its greatness 
 Finds, and whither the bold may follow me. 
 
 ADAM. 
 
 Our God hath said that he will punish us, 
 If other paths than his, we choose to tread. 
 
 EVE. 
 
 Why punish? Surely, if the path which we 
 Must tread, he hath marked out, hath he not also 
 So created us, that we might never 
 Be drawn away by evil tendencies? 
 For why, beside a deep abyss, should he 
 Have placed us, our destruction planning thus? 
 And e'en if error in his plan have part, 
 Like tempests, breaking o'er the fairest day ; 
 Who then would say, that in the driving storm 
 More evil lay, than in the sunshine's warmth? 
 
 LUCIFER. 
 
 Behold! The first philosopher appears. 
 The long line after thee, my sister fair, 
 In full a million ways will teach the same; 
 Many will be, whose road to madness leads, 
 And many retreat, affright; none reach the goal. 
 So give your reasoning o'er, for ev'rything 
 Contains so many shades, that he who long 
 Contemplates them, knows in the end far less 
 Than at the first swift glance, and reaches ne'er 
 The goal ; for reasoning is action's death. 
 
 EVE. 
 To pluck the fruit then I am free? 
 
31 THE TRAGEDY 
 
 OF MAN 
 
 ADAM. 
 The curse of God is on the tree ! 
 
 (Lucifer laughs.) 
 
 But pluck it, bring it weal or woe. 
 Like God, we all things fain would know ; 
 (From the tree of knowledge Eve plucks an apple, 
 first tasting it herself, then giving it to Adam.) 
 
 EVE. 
 Forever young to be ! 
 
 LUCIFER. 
 
 Be quick, come, follow me! 
 The fruit of yonder tree, 
 Gives immortality. 
 
 (He leads them to the other tree, where a cherub, 
 with flaming sword, guards the way.) 
 
 CHERUB. 
 Sinners, begone! Ye have betrayed His trust. 
 
 THE LORD. 
 
 Adam, Adam, thou hast forsaken me; 
 To thine own weakness, I abandon thee. 
 
 EVE. 
 Woe unto us, we're lost! It is unjust. 
 
 LUCIFER. 
 Are ye afraid? 
 
 ADAM. 
 
 No, no. I only shake 
 The thraldom off, and now I am awake. 
 Away, my spouse ; let's go, whitherso'er ! 
 This place is strange become, gloomy and bare. 
 
THE TRAGEDY 32 
 
 OF MAN 
 
 CELESTIAL CHOIB. 
 
 Victorious lie its banner hath unfurled. 
 Bemoan our brother's fall ; lost is the world ! 
 
 SCENE III. 
 
 (Magnificent landscape outside of Eden. A little rude 
 log hut. Adam driving posts for a fence. Eve 
 erecting a bower. Lucifer.) 
 
 ADAM. 
 
 This is all mine ; instead of the great world, 
 This spot will be my home. It is my own : 
 I guard it from the wild, devouring beasts, 
 Compelling it in turn, to nourish me. 
 
 EVE. 
 
 A bower I make, just like that other one ; 
 Thus now before us, I can conjure up 
 The Eden lost. 
 
 LUCIFEB. 
 
 Ah ! what great words ye speak ! 
 Possessions, family; twofold incentive 
 Of the world, the source of all its joys 
 And griefs, for these ideas great will grow 
 And grow unceasingly, until from them 
 Great industries and nations will arise. 
 Begetters too, they'll be of all things great 
 And noble, though devourers of their offspring 
 
 ADAM. 
 
 Thou speak'st in riddles; but 'twas knowledge thorn 
 Did'st promise me. I sacrificed my bliss, 
 
33 THE TRAGEDY 
 
 OF MAN 
 
 That e'en in striving, still I might be great. 
 And what is my reward? 
 
 LUCIFER. 
 
 Thou feel'st it not? 
 
 ADAM. 
 
 I feel that as God has abandoned me 
 With empty hands into the desert casting, 
 So him have I abandoned. To myself 
 A god I'll be, and that for which I strive 
 Will be my own. This gives me strength and pride. 
 
 LUCIFER (Aside). 
 
 Vain wight! thou blowest bubbles to the skiee; 
 We'll test thy heart, when thunders mutter deep. 
 
 EVE. 
 
 I too, feel naught but pride within me, for 
 'Tis I who'll be the mother of the race. 
 
 LUCIFER (Aside). 
 
 Ideal worthy of the woman's heart! 
 Perpetuating sin and misery. 
 
 ADAM. 
 
 Why should I grateful be to Him? For living? 
 If life indeed outweigh its sordid cares, 
 'Tis of my own endeavors but the fruit. 
 The ecstacy a cooling draught doth give, 
 With pangs of burning thirst must first be earned ; 
 The price of honeyed kisses too, is pain 
 Of longing, then satiety ; but now 
 I'm free from all these ties of gratitude, 
 My own fate to build up and to destroy, 
 
THE TRAGEDY 34 
 
 OF MAN 
 
 Manipulating that which I have planned, 
 
 Perhaps for this I did not need thine aid, 
 
 For my own strength and will had well sufficed. 
 
 Thou'st not unloosed me from the pond'rous gyves 
 
 Which to the earth my body still enchain. 
 
 I feel I know not what so subtle 't is ; 
 
 It may be but a hair more is the shame 
 
 Which holds my soul in doubt, and in suspense; 
 
 Behold, I fain would soar, my body fails ; 
 
 Both eye and ear the service high reject 
 
 If mysteries of space I would espy : 
 
 And when in fancy's flight I'm borne aloft, 
 
 From hunger, cow'ringly I sink again, 
 
 Unto vile matter which my essence is. 
 
 LUCIFEE. 
 These chains are even stronger than myself. 
 
 ADAM. 
 
 Then thou'rt a feeble spirit if this web 
 Invisible, this null, of which the millions 
 Have no consciousness, but with a sense 
 Of liberty, therein they revel, 
 Defy thee, though it is not dreamed of, save 
 By some superior, enlightened souls. 
 
 LUCIFEB. 
 
 And it is this alone which can defy me; 
 For it is spirit, like myself. Thou think'st 
 Because a power works noiseless and concealed 
 It hath not force? Not so, in shadow lies 
 That power, which shatters or creates a world; 
 For sight of it would cause the brain to reel. 
 'Tis but the work of man, which roars and glitters, 
 Whose limit in this human life is reached. 
 
35 THE TRAGEDY 
 
 OF MAN 
 
 ADAM. 
 
 Ob! let me contemplate these workings great 
 One moment only strength my bosom fills, 
 That power which moveth, and by which I am 
 Enthralled, although a perfect whole am I. 
 
 LUCIFEB. 
 
 " Am ! " Senseless word ! Thou wast ; thou wilt be ; 
 For life is either crescent, of in decay. 
 But look about thee! View with spirit eyes! 
 (As the last words are spoken, all becomes visible.) 
 
 ADAM. 
 
 What flood is this which bursts here on my sight, 
 So madly pressing onward to the height? 
 Parting in twain, like to the storm wind fleet 
 It rushes to the distant poles. 
 
 LUCIFEB. 
 
 'Tis heat, 
 Which to the icy regions giveth life. 
 
 ADAM. 
 
 And these two streams of flame, with horrors rife. 
 Which at my side are whirling swiftly by? 
 They wellnigh crush me, yet methinks that I 
 Can feel their touch; how it doth vivify! 
 Ah! what is this, that so doth terrify? 
 
 LUCIFEE. 
 It is the magnet 
 
 ADAM. 
 
 'Neath me sways the ground; 
 All that erstwhile was formless, firm and bound. 
 
THE TRAGEDY 36 
 
 OF MAN 
 
 Now seething matter hath become, and strife 
 
 Arises now for form and breathing life ; 
 
 As crystal glistening and shining here, 
 
 As blossom yonder to burst forth. In fear 
 
 I ask, Oh! 'mid this chaos, where will be 
 
 My pent-up individuality? 
 
 What of this earthly shell, in which, O fool, 
 
 I placed my faith, as in a potent tool? 
 
 Wherewith my aspirations once I thought 
 
 To realize. Deluded child, to naught 
 
 Thou'lt shrink, who for me joys and woes dost reap, 
 
 And some time be reduced to a mean heap 
 
 Of dust, then into other forms resolve : 
 
 Perchance a vapor to a cloud dissolved, 
 
 Evaporating when its course is run. 
 
 Each word of mine, each thought my brain has spun, 
 
 Consuming, part by part, this form of mine ; 
 
 And this devouring fire, the fell design , 
 
 Of some mysterious spirit dark, that fans 
 
 The flame, as gleeful he my ashes scans. 
 
 Away with this dread sight, away ! I feel 
 
 That e'en my reason now doth wane and reel. 
 
 While crushed with loneliness, amid this strife 
 
 Of all these elements, that teem with life. 
 
 How terrible! Why did I cast away, 
 
 That Providence, to which in wild dismay 
 
 I turn ; which instinct felt, though could not prize 
 
 My wisdom yearns again to realize. 
 
 EVE. 
 
 Like to thine own, are the feelings of my heart, 
 Whether I see thee struggling with wild beasts, 
 Or wearily I tend our little garden, 
 I look around me, o'er the wide, wide world; 
 On dearth, in heaven, no kindred near I see ; 
 
37 THE TRAGEDY 
 
 OF MAN 
 
 Not e'en one friend, to guard and cheer us now. 
 Ah! in that fairer time, it was not so. 
 
 LUCIFEB (scornfully). 
 
 If then ye are such childish, trivial souls, 
 Chilling, without some warm, protecting hand; 
 If of dependence ye have such sore need ; 
 I will call forth for you a god, whom ye 
 Will find more smiling than your rigid sire: 
 The Spirit of the Earth. I knew him there, 
 The modest youth, in the celestial choir. 
 
 Earth Spirit, I command 
 
 Come! thou can'st not withstand 
 
 The soul that e'er denies, 
 
 Thee dares, and thee defies. 
 
 (Flames leap out of the earth. Heavy Hack clouds 
 and <a rainbow appear. Terrific peals of thunder.) 
 
 LUCIFER. 
 
 Who art thou, spectre? Thee did I not call. 
 The guardian of the earth is tender, frail. 
 
 EABTH SPIEIT. 
 
 He who in the celestial choir seemed frail, 
 Is infinite and strong in his own sphere. 
 But at command of spirit I appear, 
 For that I must obey, I dare not fail. 
 Mark well ! no other acts can'st thou inspire. 
 Could'st thou see my face, thy fate were dire, 
 And these two worms would perish in their fear. 
 
 LUCIFEB. 
 
 How can man thy proud presence reach, if he 
 Resolved that henceforth thou his god shalt be? 
 
THE TRAGEDY 38 
 
 OF MAN 
 
 EABTH SPIBIT. 
 
 In clouds, in groves and in the seas, 
 All that to him brings bliss and ease. 
 
 (Disappears.) 
 (The valley is populated with dancing nymphs.) 
 
 EVE. 
 
 Ah! see, these kindred faces here 
 See! See! how smiling they appear! 
 No more abandoned, no more alone, 
 And happiness, before unknown, 
 They bring, for they can sympathize, 
 And in our doubts, give counsel wise. 
 
 LUCIFER. 
 
 And ye could ask no better than these elves 
 So dear, who e'er advise what ye yourselves 
 Desire, in questioning betrayed; they seem 
 All smiling unto guileless hearts, but teem 
 With terror to the lost. In many a form, 
 In myriad guise, about you they will swarm ; 
 Unto the savant bring the longed for goal, 
 And its ideal to the youthful soul. 
 
 ADAM. 
 
 But what avails this vain and glittering show 
 I here behold? for nothing do I know. 
 One more enigma now doth bother me, 
 Delay not, Lucifer, but hear my plea ! 
 
 LUCIFER (aside). 
 
 This knowledge will bring bitterness one day ; 
 And thou wilt long for thy lost ignorance. 
 I 
 
39 THE TRAGEDY 
 
 OF MAN 
 
 (Aloud.) 
 
 Have patience, for thou know'st, each moment's bliss, 
 With struggles thou must ever earn ; so thou 
 Through many schools must pass and errors too, 
 Before thou knowest all. 
 
 ADAM. 
 
 How easy 'tis 
 
 To speak of patience, with eternity 
 Spread out before thee? but I did not eat 
 Of the tree of life, therefore this little span 
 Of human life doth warn me to make haste. 
 
 LUCIFER. 
 
 To all that lives, the span is but the same. 
 The hoary trees, th' unseen ephemera ; 
 They live, rejoice, they love, and pass away, 
 Till run their course, their instincts satisfied. 
 Time ceaseth not : we change ; a century 
 A day; the end is but the same. Fear not: 
 Thou'lt reach the goal, but think not that this clay 
 Shuts in man's individuality. 
 Look at the ant, the swarming bees, with all 
 The senseless chaos of their myriad works ; 
 How blind they strive and roam, to sink at last 
 In death ; but as a solid mass, they live, 
 Together live and strive, with but one soul, 
 Accomplishing their being's destiny, 
 Till comes the end, when all shall cease at once. 
 So shall thy dust be scattered far, but thou 
 In a hundred forms shalt live again, and naught 
 Need'st thou begin anew r . For all thy sins 
 The son must penance do ; to him, thy gout 
 Dost thou transmit, thy life's experience, 
 
THE TRAGEDY 40 
 
 OF MAN 
 
 All thy sensations and thy learning, all, 
 For aeons, shall thine own possession be. 
 
 ADAM. 
 
 Unto the aged, leave this retrospection. 
 With other aims my youthful breast doth burn! 
 Vouchsafe a glimpse into my future ; show 
 Wherefore I suffer, and wherefore I must strive. 
 
 EVE. 
 
 And let me see, if in this changing life, 
 My charms shall ever perish or decay. 
 
 LUCIFER. 
 
 So be it! Let magic enfold 
 You twain, so that ye may behold, 
 In the fleeting scenes of a dream 
 Your fate, that with struggles doth teem, 
 And trivial aims. That despair, 
 May never possess you, a fair 
 And tenuous, shimmering ray 
 Shall shine o'er the toilsome way ; 
 And this faint light now to ope 
 The road delusive, is hope ! 
 
 (Leads Adam and Eve into the hut, where he causes 
 them to fall asleep.) 
 
41 THE TRAGEDY 
 
 OF MAN 
 
 SCENE IV. 
 
 (Egypt. Open halls in the foreground. Adam as 
 Pharaoh in his youth, on a throne. Lucifer as his 
 minister. A brilliant retinue at a respectful dis- 
 tance. In the background, slaves are engaged in 
 building a pyramid; overseers, with straps in 
 their hands drive them to their work. Bright 
 daylight. ) 
 
 LUCIFER. 
 
 Royal Sire, with sorrow asks thy land, 
 Which e'er to die for thee, doth ready stand; 
 Why is it, that her mighty Pharaoh, 
 
 Upon his cushioned throne no rest can know? 
 
 Why yieldest thou the blessings of the day, 
 
 And why the night's sweet dreamland fancies' play, 
 
 Why leav'st thou not to servitors, the care 
 
 Of executing thy great plans? for share 
 
 Can no one in thy universal might, 
 
 And is not thine all pleasure and delight? 
 
 An hundred lands their treasures yield to thee ; 
 
 Each fragrant flower, the fruit of every tree 
 
 Is thine ; for thee, a thousand bosoms sigh : 
 
 The beauty fair, with languishing blue eye, 
 
 Like to some sportive elf's, her slender form ; 
 
 The dusky maid, with panting lips, so warm, 
 
 And burning eyes, mad passion that betray ; 
 
 All are thine own ; with their fate thou can'st play ; 
 
 Each feels she hath fulfilled her humble lot, 
 
 If to thy bliss she hath vouchsafed one jot. 
 
 ADAM. 
 But of all these, not one can touch my heart. 
 
 1 do not strive for them ; they are but part 
 Of that thy power secured, and not my own. 
 
THE TRAGEDY 42 
 
 OF MAN 
 
 But now, creating this great work of stone, 
 I feel I've found the path which leads me on 
 To real greatness. That which shall be done, 
 This work of art, e'en nature will outdo ; 
 And centuries its wonders yet will view 
 And throughout ages herald my renown. 
 No hurricane will ever tear it down, 
 No earthquake e'er uproot it, for man now, 
 In strength, e'en to his God, cares not to bow. 
 
 LUCIFEB. 
 
 And yet, Oh! Pharaoh, art happy thou, 
 In this thy fancy's flight? The truth avow ! 
 
 ADAM. 
 
 Not I. A void unspeakable I feel ; 
 Toward glory only do I bend my zeal. 
 But what of that, for bliss is not my goal ; 
 My name will yet appear on fame's proud roll, 
 But let the herd know not the pain I feel, 
 For pity would from adoration steal. 
 
 LUCIFEB. 
 
 But then, if thou in time should'st ever see, 
 That glory is but hollow mockery? 
 
 ADAM. 
 It cannot be. 
 
 LUCIFER. 
 But if so? 
 
 ADAM. 
 
 I would die, 
 Cursing the world which I could thus defy. 
 
 * 
 
43 THE TRAGEDY 
 
 OF MAN 
 
 LUCIFEB. 
 
 Thou wilt not die, but ever undergo 
 
 The same experience, and all thy woe. 
 
 (The overseers whip one of the slaves so mercilessly 
 
 that he runs screaming with pain to the front, 
 
 into tlie hall, where he sinks down before the 
 
 throne. ) 
 
 THE SLAVE. 
 Help, Majesty! 
 (Eve, as the slave's wife, tears herself from the 
 
 crowd, and sobbing piteously, throws herself upon 
 
 her husband.) 
 
 EVE. 
 
 Thou dost appeal in vain; 
 For he who never shared our grief and pain, 
 Ne'er comprehends. The ruler's throne is high, 
 And sorrow's voice is low ; but do not I 
 Thy body shield, the lashes on mine own 
 Receiving? 
 
 ADAM. 
 (To the overseers, who attempt to drag the slave and 
 
 his wife away.) 
 Away from here! Leave them alone! 
 
 (The overseers all retire.) 
 What strange emotion creeps into my heart? 
 Who is this woman, what her charm or art, 
 By which, as with a chain, the mighty king, 
 Down to her humble level, she doth bring? 
 
 LUCIFEB. 
 
 This is another of those subtle threads, 
 Thy Lord disdainfully about thee weaves. 
 To rouse in thee the consciousness of this, 
 Thy chrysalis existence, when thou seekst, 
 
THE TRAGEDY 44 
 
 OF MAN 
 
 In thy delusion like the butterfly 
 To soar. Thou'st seen the power of this frail thread ; 
 It slips from out our grasp, and for this reason 
 I'm powerless to destroy it 
 
 ADAM. 
 (Descending the steps of the throne.) 
 
 Attempt it not. 
 It is not ill, although it presseth sore. 
 
 LUCIFEB. 
 
 But it beseemeth not a king and sage 
 To groan beneath it. 
 
 ADAM. 
 What then, can I do? 
 
 LUCIFEE. 
 
 There's nothing left but science, which denies 
 The whole existence of these occult threads, 
 Which force and matter jeeringly deride. 
 
 ADAM. 
 I neither can deride them, nor deny. 
 
 EVE. 
 
 Ah! dear one, how thy blood doth flow; let me 
 Quench it a little. Ah ! and is thy pain so great? 
 
 SLAVE. 
 
 It is only life that pains me, soon 
 All will be o'er. 
 
 EVE. 
 
 Not so ! Not so ! for why 
 Didv'st live at all, if so, thou now must die? 
 
45 THE TRAGEDY 
 
 OF MAN 
 
 SLAVE. 
 
 What right have slaves to live? To carry stones 
 For pyramids, planned by great kings on thrones, 
 Bear children for the yoke that was their own, 
 Then die, a million for one man, alone. 
 
 ADAM. 
 Ah! Lucifer, what mean these dreadful words? 
 
 LUCIFEB. 
 Delirious ravings of a dying man ! 
 
 ADAM. 
 What does he say? 
 
 LUCIFEB. 
 
 Great Pharaoh, to thee 
 'Tis naught; and yet it is of consequence: 
 The earth is cumbered with just one slave less. 
 
 EVE. 
 
 Ah ! naught to thee, but all the world to me, 
 Woe! Woe! who now will love me tenderly? 
 
 SLAVE. 
 No longer I ; forget me, wife for aye ! 
 
 (Dies.) 
 
 ADAM. 
 
 Thou shalt be mine. The dead man bear away. 
 My lady, rise! Upon my cushioned throne 
 Is now thy place; I'm king of power alone; 
 But queen of beauty thou and thou and I 
 Were destined now to meet, beneath the sky. 
 
THE TRAGEDY 46 
 
 OF MAN 
 
 EVE. 
 
 Thy wish is law to me, great Pharaoh; 
 Our fate lies but in thy commands, I know, 
 Nor do I seek escape ; but now alone 
 Leave me a while, and then command thine own. 
 
 ADAM. 
 
 No more that word. Oh! can it, can it be, 
 That in commands doth lie my sov'reignty? 
 
 EVE. 
 
 Enough, that thy command, in this first hour, 
 Gives me no pain, as o'er my spouse I shower 
 My bitter tears. Then envy not the dead 
 O'er whom in death still beautiful they're shed. 
 
 (Falls upon him.) 
 
 ADAM. 
 
 " Fair " and " dead ! "What contrariety ! 
 This peace doth bring reproach on all our strivings, 
 And pityingly mocks our vanity. 
 
 LUCIFEK. 
 
 The liberated slave, who scornful says, 
 
 " E'en stronger than thy chains, have I become ! " 
 
 ADAM. 
 
 Peace to the dead, and to the living, bliss! 
 He feeleth not thy tears, but to forego 
 Thy smile, is pain to me. 
 
 (They carry the dead man away. Adam leads Eve 
 to the throne.) 
 
 Here, at my side, 
 
47 THE TRAGEDY 
 
 OF MAN 
 
 (Lamentations are heard among the workmen. Eve 
 swoons. ) 
 
 What is it, love? 
 
 EVE. 
 
 Oh! dost not hear 
 The people's cries? 
 
 ADAM. 
 
 It is but now, I hear. 
 'Tis no sweet music, sure, but listen not! 
 And in my kisses be the world forgot. 
 (To Lucifer) Can'st thou not stop these lamenta- 
 tions wild? 
 
 LUCIFER. 
 
 I cannot; 'tis the people's right; that right 
 Which with their yoke, they have inherited. 
 (Another cry of grief. Eve softs aloud. Adam rises.) 
 
 ADAM. 
 
 Thou sufferest, my lady, yet I know 
 No help to give. Thy own heart's awful woe 
 Like light'ning strikes my brain, and now I feel 
 As if to me the whole world did appeal. 
 
 EVE. 
 
 Oh, Pharaoh! destroy me, but forgive, 
 If to their cry, my heart is sensitive. 
 I know full well that I am but thy slave, 
 That all my aim in life, until the grave, 
 Must be to please, and to please thee alone. 
 I cheerfully forget all I have known: 
 Sorrows and joys, love dreams, all, all ; and I 
 Do e'en forget my dead, to gratify 
 But thee; that passionate be my love sigh; 
 That burning lips, with kiss to kiss reply ; 
 
THE TRAGEDY 48 
 
 OF MAN 
 
 But when this being multiform, without 
 Lashed on its back with whips in pain doth shout, 
 Then I, an atom of that body, smart 
 With all its agony, e'en to my heart. 
 
 ADAM. 
 
 I feel it too" A million for the one." 
 So hath the dead man said. 
 
 EVE. 
 
 What have I done, 
 
 Great Pharaoh, that thou'rt so sad become? 
 Drive me away, or teach me to be dumb, 
 As well as deaf. 
 
 ADAM. 
 
 Beloved, no ! in naught 
 
 Hast failed; a better teacher thou, who'st taught 
 Me to hear sorrow's tones ; and now no more 
 Shall they resound on earth, for I abhor 
 Henceforth, that fame, which is but one man's share, 
 And for which men, e'en million wise, must bear 
 The yoke of woe. The bliss, for one, I feel, 
 But a million cries, to me in pain appeal. 
 
 LTICIFEB. 
 
 O Pharaoh, thou dreamest! Certain 't is, 
 That fate the herd has destined to the work, 
 As beasts of burden, to tread the mill, at each 
 Command; for that they were created. Give 
 To them their liberty, to-day; but that 
 Which thou dost sacrifice, will be no gain 
 To them. To-morrow, a new master, they 
 Will seek, for thinkest thou could'st override 
 The herd, felt it no need of sov'reignty, 
 If consciousness within its bosom dwelt? 
 
49 THE TRAGEDY 
 
 OF MAN 
 
 ADAM. 
 
 Why then do they lament, as if to them 
 Their servitude were pain? 
 
 LUCIFEB. 
 They suffer, but 
 
 They know not why ; for ev'ry creature longs 
 For mastery; and this alone, it is, 
 And not fraternity, that draws the crowd 
 Round freedom's standard; though to consciousness 
 They never wake, but a presentiment 
 Or something new to come, an overthrowal 
 Of established laws, impelleth them, 
 And 't is this hope, embodied in their dreams 
 Of happiness, they view. The populace 
 Is a deep sea, whose under-waters dark, 
 The sunshine can not penetrate; the wave, 
 Alone, doth sparkle and reflect the light, 
 And even thou dost chance to be this wave. 
 
 ADAM. 
 And why just It 
 
 LUCIFEB. 
 
 Or other, like to thee, 
 In whom once patriotism is aroused, 
 As freedom's champion adored, doth dare 
 Approach thine own illustrious place. The herd 
 Doth nothing gain ; naught but its name is changed, 
 While the tyrant still remains. 
 
 ADAM. 
 
 Endless 
 
 Is the circle of thy reasoning, 
 From which perhaps, there may be no escape. 
 
THE TRAGEDY 50 
 
 OF MAN 
 
 LUCIFEB. 
 
 There is escape. Choose but a few ; load them 
 With gold and jewels and other toys; place them 
 Above the masses ; say thou hold'st them nobler, 
 Thy word believing, the people they will scorn, 
 Enduring, in their turn, thy scorn of them. 
 
 ADAM. 
 
 No more of thy misleading sophistries! 
 Away with slaves ! let every one be free ! 
 Proclaim to them their freedom ; but make haste, 
 Less I should rue it, and 't would be too late. 
 
 LUCIFER (Aside). 
 
 Thou thinkest forward, of thyself, to move, 
 When thou art borne but by the flood of fate. 
 
 (Exit.) 
 ADAM. 
 
 This work will stand forever incomplete; 
 A warning ruin, to all those, whose plans 
 Are great and high, a mighty question-mark 
 Forever to our potency, and frailty. 
 (Workmen are heard talking joyfully, without* 
 
 Lucifer returns.) 
 
 Rejoice ye slaves that greatness bows to thee! 
 But ne'er believe, that I could be constrained. 
 
 EVE. 
 
 Console thyself, O thou my own beloved! 
 What cometh of this glory, lone and drear 
 A clammy serpent that between us creeps? 
 
 ADAM. 
 But still, how great! 
 
51 THE TRAGEDY 
 
 OF MAN 
 
 EVE. 
 
 Away with it! They weep 
 No more; their cries no longer rend our ears. 
 Upon my breast, what more could'st thou desire? 
 
 ADAM. 
 
 O woman, narrow thy horizon is, 
 But it is just for this man gives life's meed 
 To thee. The strong must ever love the weak; 
 The suckling, helpless in its mother's arms, 
 Is loved more tenderly than all the rest. 
 
 EVE. 
 
 Ah, Pharaoh! perhaps thus soon, my vain 
 And foolish chatter wearies thee. Alas! 
 How were it otherwise? I am not learned. 
 
 ADAM. 
 
 Nor need thou wish for wisdom, my dear one ; 
 For mind sufficient, in myself I find, 
 'T is not for power or greatness that I lean 
 Upon thy breast, nor e'en for wisdom ; that 
 Far better with my books I can achieve. 
 Speak, only speak, that I may hear thy voice, 
 That it may flood my heart with melody. 
 Say what thou wilt, for oh ! who e'er doth ask 
 The meaning of the bird's song? but we list 
 In rapture, when we hear his tuneful lay. 
 Be but a flower, a costly gem, useless, 
 Though beautiful, for that beseems thee well. 
 (To Lucifer.) 
 
 Another wish wakes in this heart of stone, 
 A foolish wish perhaps but grant it me ; 
 A bold glance in the future, let me cast, 
 
THE TRAGEDY 52 
 
 OF MAN 
 
 A couple of thousand years from now. I fain 
 Would see what of my fame will then remain. 
 
 LUCIFEB. 
 
 While thou'rt giving kiss for kiss, 
 Dost thou not feel the tepid breeze, 
 That gently fans thy burning cheeks, 
 And then away as gently, flees? 
 An atom of the dust it blows, 
 Which in a year an inch hath grown, 
 A few feet in a century; 
 When a few thousand years have flown 
 The pyramids will be entombed 
 And thy great name be buried low 
 'Neath heaps of sand; and then, where lie 
 Thy fairest pleasure gardens now, 
 Jackals will claim their beastly reign, 
 Which with their howling will resound 
 And, on the desert plain encamped, 
 A servile beggar-race be found. 
 
 (As Lucifer speaks, all becomes visible.) 
 
 And that which Heaven-rending storm, 
 And earthquake cannot bring about, 
 By the caressing, gentle breeze 
 In its calm, silent course is wrought. 
 
 ADAM. 
 A frightful picture! 
 
 LUCIFEB ( Mockingly. ) 
 
 Ye need have no fear, 
 Thy soul alone is lost; thy body here 
 Remains, a mummy ; and in times to come 
 The wonder of all schoolboys who would know 
 
53 THE TRAGEDY 
 
 OF MAN 
 
 What mystic, half-effaced inscriptions show: 
 If it had been a King or but a slave. 
 (A Mummy stalks out, appearing before the throne, 
 then slowly going down the steps.) 
 
 ADAM (Springing up.) 
 Infernal vision, monstrous thing, begone! 
 Ambition and conceit henceforth I shun. 
 Still in my ear, rings " Millions for the one." 
 So to these millions then, be justice done 
 In a free state, for else it cannot be: 
 The one must perish, if mankind be free; 
 And it is for the common weal I yearn. 
 
 EVE. 
 And me too, lea vest thou, from me dost turn? 
 
 ADAM. 
 
 All! Thee, the throne, all, must I leave. 
 Lead on, O Lucifer, I did deceive 
 Myself; too long in error's path did roam. 
 
 EVE. 
 
 My King, if e'er with shattered hopes thou fain 
 Would'st solace find, come to my heart again. 
 
 ADAM. 
 
 Ay! Ay! I do believe that we shall meet; 
 Then in some nobler guise I thee shall greet ; 
 And thou wilt love me, not at my command, 
 But as my peer, with passion strong and grand. 
 
 LUCIFEB. 
 
 Not so precipitate ; thou'lt reach the goal, 
 And when 't is gained, thy now impatient soul, 
 
THE TRAGEDY 54 
 
 OF MAN 
 
 With anguish will bemoan the loss sustained; 
 While I shall laugh at thee, for what I've gained. 
 
 SCENE V. 
 
 (Athens. The market place. In the centre, the 
 tribune. At one side of the foreground an open 
 corridor of the temple with its statues of the 
 Gods, garlands of flowers and altars. 
 
 (Eve as Lucia, wife of the general Miltiades, with 
 her son Cimon, attended by several servants, 
 bearing offerings for sacrifice, goes up to the 
 corridor of the temple. A beggarly throng surg- 
 ing about. Bright morning.) 
 
 EVE. 
 
 This way, this way, beloved litle son! 
 See, yonder sailed thy sire, with swiftest fleet, 
 To battle on the realm's remote confines, 
 Where dwells a savage race, which boldly dares 
 The freedom of our native land to menace. 
 So let us pray, O, let us pray, my son, 
 That Heaven protect our native country's rights, 
 And thy brave father bring again to us. 
 
 CIMON. 
 
 Why does my father thus in distant lands 
 Fight to defend this dastard beggar race, 
 While his fair spouse laments and pines at home? 
 
 EVE. 
 
 Ah! thy good father mayest thou not judge, 
 For such a child is cursed of the gods, 
 It is ^the right but of the loving spouse 
 
55 THE TRAGEDY 
 
 OF MAN 
 
 To grieve and murmur at his course, though if 
 He did not thus, it is she would feel the shame. 
 Thy father's acts beseem him, as a man. 
 
 CIMON. 
 Fear'st mother, he may weaken and surrender? 
 
 EVE. 
 
 No, no, my son ; Thy valiant sire will win ; 
 One thing alone, there is which I might fear; 
 He may not triumph o'er himself. 
 
 CIMON. 
 
 How so? 
 
 EVE. 
 
 A mighty word within the soul exists 
 Ambition! Dormant in the slave it lies, 
 Or in his narrow sphere becomes a crime, 
 Though, when 't is roused, doth fill his whole ex- 
 istence, 
 
 But nourished with the blood of liberty, 
 It grows to civic virtue brightly glowing, 
 Which calleth into being all things great 
 And beautiful ; but in excess, it turns 
 To combat with the mother, till one fall. 
 So if this tendency within his breast 
 Should grow to such extent that he betray 
 This sacred fatherland, it is I who then 
 Would curse him. Let us pray, and pray, my son. 
 (They pass into the hall of the temple. Meanwhile, 
 the crowd in the square has increased.) 
 
 ONE OF THE PEOPLE. 
 One heareth no exciting new r s ; it seems 
 Our hosts have not yet met the enemy. 
 
THE TRAGEDY 56 
 
 OP MAN 
 
 ANOTHER SPEAKER. 
 
 And here at home, so drowsy are they all, 
 Perhaps not one doth even forge a plan, 
 As in the olden time, to carry out, 
 The voices of the people needed were. 
 Since early morn, I've trod this place, and yet 
 Found not a single buyer for my vote. 
 
 FIRST SPEAKER. 
 How wearisome is life! what can we do? 
 
 THIRD SPEAKER. 
 
 No harm could come, from just a little turmoil. 
 
 (Meanwhile Eve has lit the altar fires, washed her 
 hands and prepared the sacrifice. Her servants 
 intone a hymn, which is continued, stanza by 
 stanza, during the scene. The market place fills 
 with citizens and people. Two demagogues strive 
 for the tribune.) 
 
 FIRST DEMAGOGUE. 
 
 Begone! This place belongs to me. The land 
 Will be in peril, if I do not speak. 
 
 (The people cheer.) 
 
 SECOND DEMAGOGUE. 
 It will be, if thou speakest Hireling, down! 
 
 (The people laugh and cheer.) 
 
 FIRST DEMAGOGUE. 
 
 No hireling thou, because not worth the hire. 
 Compatriots, in grief I raise my voice: 
 It wounds a noble heart, a great one thus 
 To trample in the dust, and a mighty man 
 I now must drag from his triumphal car.. 
 
57 THE TRAGEDY 
 
 OF MAN 
 
 SECOND DEMAGOGUE. 
 
 Thou scoundrel, well begun ; with flowers adorning 
 The beast, which thou to sacrifice hast doomed. 
 
 FIRST DEMAGOGUE. 
 Begone ! 
 
 VOICES FROM THE PEOPLE. 
 
 Why to this scoffer do we list? 
 
 (They pull at the second demagogue.) 
 
 FIRST DEMAGOGUE. 
 
 But though it wounds my heart, yet must I speak ; 
 For thee, O worthy, princely race, I hold 
 Above thy general. 
 
 SECOND DEMAGOGUE. 
 This starved out mob, 
 
 So sordid souled, cow'ring like dogs, to catch 
 The leavings from the masters' board? Coward, 
 Thy taste I cannot envy. 
 
 FROM THE PEOPLE. 
 
 A traitor too 
 Is he. Down with him, down! 
 
 (They press closer to him.) 
 
 EVE. 
 
 (Sacrificing on the altar, two doves and incense.) 
 Holy Aphrodite, O receive 
 The sacrifice I on thy altar leave! 
 No laurels ask I for my spouse's brow, 
 The peace of home thou may'st on him bestow. 
 (Amid the smoke of the incense, Eros appears smil- 
 
THE TRAGEDY 58 
 
 OF MAN 
 
 ing, surrounded by the Charlies strewing roses 
 over Mm. Group of worshipers sing in adora- 
 tion. ) 
 
 THE SERVANTS. 
 O grant her this behest! 
 
 EROS. 
 
 O'er her, may ever rest 
 The blessing of a guileless heart. 
 
 THE CHAEITES. 
 And loving care, be the Charites' part! 
 
 SERVANTS. 
 O Aphrodite, we 
 Pour forth our thanks to thee! 
 
 FIRST DEMAGOGUE. 
 Ye people hear the accusation then! 
 The great Miltiades betrays the land! 
 
 SECOND DEMAGOGUE. 
 
 Thou liest! Listen, or in shame ye'll come 
 To late repentance. 
 
 FIRST SPEAKER. 
 
 (From the people.) 
 Thou audacious one! 
 Down from here! 
 
 (They pitch him down into the crowd.) 
 
 FIRST DEMAGOGUE. 
 The flower of your youth 
 Is |n his hand, and Leinnos at one blow 
 
59 THE TRAGEDY 
 
 OP MAN 
 
 He could have taken ; but now he rests at Pharos, 
 For he is bought. 
 
 THIBD VOICE. 
 Then he must die! 
 
 FIBST CITIZEN. 
 
 Shout well, 
 Or I will turn you from my tenements! 
 
 (The sacrifice ended, the divinities vanish.) 
 
 EVE (Rising.) 
 
 What is that noise without? Let us inquire 
 My son. 
 
 CIMON. 
 A traitor is condemned, my mother. 
 
 EVE. 
 
 (Stepping out on the stairs of the temple hall.) 
 My heart is ever grieved, to see the great, 
 Subject to judgment by rapacious hordes ; 
 When in the mire such splendor falls, with joy 
 Malignant gapes the mob, as if thereby 
 Their vileness, somehow, might be justified. 
 
 SECOND SPEAKEB. 
 Oh! Sir, I'm hoarse, and I would like to yell. 
 
 SECOND CITIZEN. 
 Well here is aught, wherewith to oil thy throat. 
 
 SECOND VOICE. 
 
 (From the people.) 
 What am I to shout? 
 
 SECOND CITIZEN. 
 
 Say, "Death unto him!" 
 
THE TRAGEDY 60 
 
 OF MAN 
 
 FROM THE CROWD. 
 Death ! Death ! 
 
 EVE. 
 Of whom now do they cry? 
 
 SECOND DEMAGOGUE. 
 
 Of whom, but of the one, who overtops 
 His fellows? That they cannot well endure. 
 
 EVE. 
 
 Of Miltiades? Ye Gods! and thou, 
 Old Crispos, whom my husband freed from bondage, 
 Now callest for his death! 
 
 CBISPOS. 
 
 Forgive, my lady, 
 
 But one of us may live, and he who bids 
 Me shout, supports me and three children. 
 
 EVE. 
 
 Woe 
 
 To thee if so thy fate can lower thee. 
 I can forgive, for thou must live; and thou, 
 Thersites ! All, each one of you, each one, 
 Who lives in affluence and peace, which he 
 Secured for you by his great victory, 
 Ye ingrates! 
 
 THEBSITES. 
 
 Ah! my lady, it is bitter. 
 But what do we do? 'T is the people's voice: 
 For who doth hazard his possessions all, 
 The rising billows at defiance setting? 
 
 FIRST DEMAGOGUE. 
 The people's verdict, I will now pronounce. 
 
61 THE TRAGEDY 
 
 OF MAN 
 
 LUCIFEB. 
 
 (As a warrior flying with terror in his face.) 
 I give alarm. The foe is at the gates. 
 
 FIBST DEMAGOGUE. 
 
 It cannot be, for our victorious leader 
 Doth march before! 
 
 LUCIFEB. 
 
 The foe is even he. 
 
 He heard of your intent; his noble heart 
 Embittered by your foul, ungrateful acts, 
 E'en as ye speak he comes with fire and sword. 
 
 SECOND DEMAGOGUE. 
 And this ye traitors have upon us brought! 
 
 FBOM THE CBOWD. 
 
 Then let them die ! Long live our general ! 
 Woe unto us! and flee whoever can, 
 For all is lost. 
 
 FIBST DEMAGOGUE. 
 
 Not yet. Let all of us 
 Before him, at the city gates, appear, 
 And unto him our loving tribute pay. 
 
 EVE. 
 
 Ye Gods! The sentence that doth take my spouse 
 From me, gives pain, but oh! more bitter this, 
 'T is justified! Though still, I wish him back. 
 
 FIBST VOICE (From the crowd.) 
 Arrest his wife, and if he harm our city, 
 She and her child shall both be put to death! 
 
THE TRAGEDY 62 
 
 OF MAN 
 
 EVE. 
 
 Most gladly would I die for thee, my spouse, 
 Did not the nations' curse rest on my child. 
 
 CIMON. 
 
 Fear not for me, my mother, come with me: 
 This holy place will shield us from all harm. 
 (They escape from the crowd into the temple; two 
 nymphs drop chains of roses between them and 
 the crowd, causing the latter to retreat. The 
 blare of trumpets is heard without, and the 
 people scatter with lamentations. The nymphs 
 vanish. ) 
 
 LUCIFEB (Laughing as Tie rubs Ms hands.) 
 'T was a fine jest! Cold reason jokes can make 
 Where human hearts in agony will break. 
 
 (Turning toward the temple.) 
 If but the sight of that which is so fair 
 Rejuvenating, did not e'er impair 
 My work! it puts me in a chilly mood 
 Of discontent, in this strange sphere, where nude 
 Is chaste and pure, and e'en ennobled, sin, 
 The kiss of innocence, with roses, win 
 For fate, sublimity. When will descend 
 My world, that monster of dread doubt, to lend 
 Its force, to ridicule th' illusion fair, 
 Which raises man, e'en when bowed in despair. 
 To earth ; but when he once encountereth 
 The terrors, and the agonies of death, 
 Will not this weary shadow come at last, 
 To 1 such an end, as that I have forecast? 
 
63 THE TRAGEDY 
 
 OF MAN 
 
 (Adam as Miltiades, is carried in, wounded, at the 
 head of an armed regiment. People and dema- 
 gogues suppliant before him.) 
 
 VOICE FROM THE CROWD. 
 
 Long live our general! Have mercy on us, 
 
 great man! 
 
 ADAM. 
 
 What is your guilt, and why 
 Do ye entreat? For what can strong ones ever 
 From the weak demand? But neither wife 
 Nor child doth come to give me greeting, though 
 
 1 hope that unto them, no harm has come. 
 
 EVE. 
 
 Why com'st Miltiades, if thine own spouse 
 Cannot rejoice o'er thy return? My son, 
 Thy mother swoons. Uphold uphold her now 
 Of thy good name, thy father hath bereft thee. 
 
 ADAM. 
 
 What's this? I do not comprehend. The crowd 
 For mercy begs; my own wife curses me, 
 While bleeds my bosom for my native land. 
 
 EVE. 
 
 The nation's heart, my own, doth bleed still more. 
 Why at the head of this great army com'st? 
 
 ADAM. 
 
 Doth not this escort suit my lofty rank? 
 I came, because this wound so serious 
 Allowed no longer to fulfill my trust; 
 And to account for every act of mine, 
 To those who sent me forth ; and render back 
 
THE TRAGEDY 64 
 
 OF MAN 
 
 To the majestic people, my commission. 
 My comrades, now ye are at liberty; 
 For ye have earned your hearth-stone's sweet repose 
 And now, Pallas Athena, on this shrine, 
 I consecrate to thee, this sword of mine. 
 (He is borne to the steps of the temple. The soldiers 
 disperse. ) 
 
 EVE (Embracing him.) 
 Ah! Miltiades, where could be found, 
 A happier spouse than thine, great, noble man! 
 And see, thy son, how like he is to thee; 
 How tall, how handsome grown ! 
 
 ADAM. 
 My dear ones, ye! 
 
 CIMON. 
 
 Well did I know, whate'er my father did, 
 Was well. 
 
 EVE. 
 
 Oh! shame me not, for better far 
 Should I have known this spouse. 
 
 ADAM. 
 
 Present, my son, 
 Thy father's sword here as a sacrifice. 
 
 CIMON (Hanging up the sword.) 
 This sword so dear, take goddess, to thy care: 
 Until I come to claim it, once to wear! 
 
 EVE. 
 
 And to this double sacrifice, in turn 
 The mother comes, sweet incense here to burn. 
 
 (Offers the incense.) 
 
65 THE TRAGEDY 
 
 OF MAN 
 
 FIRST DEMAGOGUE (From the Tribune.) 
 Spoke I not true that he a traitor is, 
 That to Darius, he is sold? The wound 
 Is but a subterfuge, not wishing now, 
 Against him to bear arms. 
 
 FBOM THE PEOPLE. 
 
 Death unto him! 
 
 ADAM. 
 What is that noise without? 
 
 EVE. 
 
 A dreadful cry. 
 Miltiades, again they call thee traitor. 
 
 ADAM. 
 
 A traitor ! Accusation ludicrous ! 
 What, I, who won the day at Marathon? 
 
 EVE. 
 
 Alas, that it be so! A wicked world 
 Around us breathes. 
 
 FIRST DEMAGOGUE. 
 Why do ye not seize him? 
 
 (The people rush up to the Temple, Lucifer among 
 them.) 
 
 EVE. 
 
 Safe art thou here within the temple's gate, 
 Miltiades, oh ! do not move from here. 
 Why did'st disperse thy retinue of state? 
 To this vile nest, why did'st thou not set fire? 
 This worthless crowd deserves but slavery's chains ; 
 
THE TRAGEDY 66 
 
 OF MAN 
 
 They feel that thou art born o'er them to reign ; 
 And feel that thou art nobler than them all, 
 And in their hatred, they would gladly slay thee, 
 That on their bended knees they may not fall 
 Beneath thy sway. 
 
 FIRST DEMAGOGUE. 
 
 Ye hear, now, how doth speak 
 A traitor's wife? 
 
 EVE. 
 
 It is the woman's right, 
 Her husband, e'en when guilty, to defend; 
 The more, if he be pure and true, like mine: 
 His enemy, a bastard race, like this. 
 
 FIRST DEMAGOGUE. 
 
 Why does this worthy race allow itself 
 To be bemeaned? 
 
 FIRST VOICE (From the crowd.) 
 
 But if she speaks the truth? 
 
 FIRST CITIZEN. 
 
 Who e'er holds to them, is a traitor too. 
 Yell, tattered herd, or famish, all of you ! 
 
 FROM THE PEOPLE. 
 Death unto him ! 
 
 ADAM. 
 
 Hide thou, my son, that ye 
 See not my blood. Flee woman, from my arms 
 Away ! May'st thou escape the light'niug, which 
 Must strike the cliff; for I alone, must die. 
 Why should I live, knowing what folly, 't is, 
 The^freedom for which all my life I've striven? 
 
67 THE TRAGEDY 
 
 OF MAN 
 
 FIBST DEMAGOGUE. 
 Why do ye hesitate? 
 
 FROM THE PEOPLE. 
 Death unto him! 
 
 ADAM. 
 
 And still this cowardly race I do not curse; 
 They are not culpable ; their nature it is 
 That want should make them slaves ; and slavery 
 Degrade them thus to envious grovelers ; 
 But I alone have been the fool, believing 
 That such a race had need of liberty. 
 
 LUCIFEB (Aside.) 
 
 Now, thine own epitaph thou hast pronounced; 
 'Twill serve for many great ones after thee. 
 
 ADAM. 
 
 Lead me below ! No longer will I claim 
 This temple's shelter. 
 
 (Having laid Eve tenderly in the arms of the ser- 
 vants, he is carried to the steps.) 
 Now then I am ready. 
 
 SECOND DEMAGOGUE. 
 Defend thyself, for nothing yet is lost. 
 
 ADAM. 
 
 Did I defend myself, 't would be to make 
 My wound but pain the more. 
 
 SECOND DEMAGOGUE. 
 Oh ! do but speak ! 
 
THE TRAGEDY I 
 
 OF MAN 
 
 For did the crowd not crawl just now in dust 
 Before thee? 
 
 ADAM. 
 
 This e'en makes speech unavailing; 
 For its own shame, the people ne'er forgive. 
 
 LUCIFER. 
 Hast thou regained thy senses? 
 
 ADAM. 
 
 Yes, indeed. 
 LUCIFER. 
 
 And see'st now, thou hast been a nobler ruler 
 To the people, than they have been to thee? 
 
 ADAM. 
 
 It may be, but corruption in them both 
 I find, although each bears a different name; 
 And both alone fulfill but fate's decree. 
 But then, oh! wherefore, wherefore, burneth e'er, 
 A soul, for aspirations high and great? 
 For self to live, 'twere better, seeking bliss, 
 Wherewith to fill this span of human life, 
 Inebriated, down to Hades roll. 
 Into new paths, now lead me, Lucifer, 
 And laughing, let me others' virtues view, 
 And others' woes, while all delights are mine. 
 Thou, woman, who (it dawns upon my soul) 
 Once in the wilderness, a bower for me 
 Did conjure, if thou, as a mother chaste, 
 My son dost raise to a good citizen, 
 A fool thou art, well meriting the jeers 
 Of the painted jade, who in the brothel sits, 
 Heated with wine, with longing, am'rous lips. 
 Be 'merry ! Pleasure seek, denying virtue. 
 
69 THE TRAGEDY 
 
 OF MAN 
 
 Now to the judgment bench, to expiate 
 My guilt, though not as one to low deeds fallen, 
 But like a great soul with high aims inspired. 
 (Meanwhile the block is placed in front of the steps, 
 
 by the side of which Lucifer stands, with an axe. 
 
 Adam bends his neck.) 
 
 FIRST DEMAGOGUE. 
 Let him be put to death! Long live our land! 
 
 LUCIFER (Whispering.) 
 
 A fine farewell, is 't not? Now, my brave lord, 
 Does not the raw, chill breeze of awful death 
 A faint and unknown shiver through thee strike? 
 
 EVE. 
 
 Pallas, thou has answered not my prayer! 
 (From the temple flies the genius of death, a mild 
 
 youth, holding a lowered torch and a garland, 
 
 who approaches Adam.) 
 
 ADAM. 
 
 Pallas has heard thy prayer, and Heaven is with thee, 
 For peace, my Lucia, to my heart is come. 
 
 LUCIFER. 
 
 Accurs'd be thou, vain world of dreams ; once more 
 Thou has destroyed the bliss I was to gain. 
 
 EVE. 
 
 My curse on thee, thou heartless, pygmy crowd! 
 O'er happiness thou'st cast a blighting shroud; 
 And withered droop its blossoms fair, to die ; 
 And all the sunshine freedom brought to thee 
 Was naught, as was its bitterness to me. 
 
THE TRAGEDY 70 
 
 OF MAN 
 
 SCENE VI. 
 
 (Home. An open hall, with statues of gods and mag- 
 nificent vases, in which incense is burning. View 
 of the Appenines. In the centre a table, with 
 three couches near it. Adam as Sergiolus, Luci- 
 fer as Milo, and Catulus, three debauchees. Eve, 
 as Julia; Hippia and Cluvia, three courtesans in 
 immodest garb, all drinking. On a tribune, 
 gladiators are fighting. Slaves standing about 
 awaiting orders; flute players dispense music. 
 Tivilight; later, midnight.) 
 
 CATULUS. 
 
 How clever, graceful, yet how modest! See, 
 Sergiolus, that red-sashed gladiator; 
 And I will wager that he wins. 
 
 ADAM. 
 
 Oh! no! 
 By Hercules, he won't. 
 
 CATULUS. 
 
 Do not appeal 
 
 To Hercules; for who now in the gods 
 Believes? but swear by Julia, then I can 
 Believe. 
 
 ADAM. 
 
 Agreed : 
 
 LUCIFER. 
 
 For oaths, the soundest basis! 
 'Tis a false goddess in a false god's place. 
 But Sfey, to what the oath in fact refers? 
 
71 THE TRAGEDY 
 
 OF MAN 
 
 Dost swear but by her beauty, or thy love, 
 Or e'en by her fidelity to thee? 
 
 CATULI s. 
 
 All beauty fades ; but e'en if it did not, 
 That which to-day attracts, satiety 
 To-morrow brings, and lesser charms allure 
 With all the magic force of novelty. 
 
 ADAM. 
 
 'Twas by her faithfulness I swore, for who 
 Doth squander more on his beloved than I? 
 
 HIPPIA. 
 
 O fool, can'st thou embrace her endlessly? 
 And if thou could'st, thou, who insatiable, 
 Forever seekest bliss, would'st seek in vain 
 For charms, but one by one are scattered 'round, 
 And in one maid thou findest but a part, 
 While bliss and beauty, an ideal ever 
 A magic dream, and unattainable 
 Doth float before thine eyes. How dost thou know 
 That 'tis not but a mood, a passing dream 
 That lureth thee? A gladiator, crushed 
 And torn. 
 
 ADAM. 
 
 'Tis true, 'tis true; Hippia cease! 
 But why, like Tantalus, doth pleasure lure, 
 When we have not the strength of Hercules, 
 Nor Proteus-like, forever changing life? 
 The wearied slave, when ends his week of toil, 
 Enjoys an hour, such as his master craves 
 In vain ; to wearied ones alone is bliss 
 A cooling draught, but death to him who plunges 
 Into the wave. 
 
THE TRAGEDY 72 
 
 OF MAN 
 
 LUCIFEB. 
 
 What worthy moral precepts, 
 
 On a fair maiden's breast, by spicy wines! 
 
 Ye make the wager then? 
 
 ADAM. 
 
 If I should lose, 
 Julia shall be thine. 
 
 CATULUS. 
 And if thou win'st? 
 
 ADAM. 
 Thy steed is mine. 
 
 CATULUS. 
 
 Another moon, and thou 
 
 May'st have her back, or to my fish pond I'll 
 Consign her. 
 
 LUCIFEB. 
 
 See this fat fish, Julia? eat him, 
 For thou of others soon wilt be the prey. 
 
 EVE. 
 
 Will not the worms of earth thy flesh devour? 
 Let all who live enjoy life's every hour; 
 And be there one who can not, let him laugh, 
 And never cease, the flowing wine to quaff. 
 
 (Drinks.) 
 
 ADAM (To the Gladiator.) 
 Hey! Heed thee well! 
 
 CATULUS. 
 
 Upon him, like a brave! 
 (The gladiator of Catulus falls, and raising his fin- 
 
73 THE TRAGEDY 
 
 OF MAN 
 
 ger, pleads for Jiis life. Adam is about to give 
 the sign of mercy, when Catulus stays his hand, 
 and with clenched fist, the thumb directed to- 
 ward the gladiator, gives the sign of death.) 
 
 CATULUS. 
 
 Recipe ferrum! Cowardly bastard! Slaves 
 Enough I have, and I no niggard am, 
 Who would begrudge fair women such a scene, 
 When so much sweeter is the kiss, the passion 
 More intense, if a little blood be shed. 
 
 ADAM. 
 
 The steed is mine! My Julia, come, embrace me! 
 But bear away the corpse! The dancers call, 
 And play us now a comedy! Of scenes 
 Like this we've had enough to-day. 
 (The corpse is carried away, and the tribune is filled 
 with dancers.) 
 
 CATULUS. 
 
 Cluvia ! 
 
 Do thou come too, for long I can not look, 
 When others do embrace. 
 
 LUCIFEB. 
 
 We too, Hippia, 
 
 May we not follow this example? But 
 First lick thy lips, that thereon be no poison. 
 There, sweetheart, now we can enjoy ourselves. 
 
 ADAM. 
 
 Why beats thy heart so violently now. 
 My Julia? I can scarcely rest upon it. 
 
 LUCIFEE. 
 Just hear ! This fool of hearts is speaking still ! 
 
THE TRAGEDY 74 
 
 OF MAN 
 
 CATULUS. 
 
 See, dekr, I trouble not thy heart at all, 
 Do what thou wilt with it, if I know naught, 
 If ever ready burns thy kiss for me. 
 
 CLUVIA. 
 Thou lover generous, I drink to thee! 
 
 (Drinking.) 
 CATULUS. 
 
 'Tis well, 'tis well! But Cluvia, do not take 
 Thine arm so soft and cushioned breast from me ; 
 And see, my wreath has fallen from my head! 
 (To the dancers.) Ah! what a masterpiece that 
 
 figure was! 
 All that voluptuous fire, with grace combined. 
 
 CLUVIA. 
 
 I'll blindfold thee, if thou in them find'st charms 
 In which with them I vie; but from thee ne'er 
 Can I earn e'en one word of praise. (Pointing to 
 
 Lucifer.) But look 
 
 Instead, on that sour face! What need has he 
 Of a fair maiden, if he can naught else 
 Than let her fall asleep, while with cold eyes, 
 And his sardonic smile, he but derides 
 The hundred sweet, though foolish little arts 
 Which add a flavor to companionship? 
 
 CATULUS. 
 
 In truth, a face like that perforce will freeze 
 The most poetic humor of whole crowds, 
 And deck them with a chill, funereal shroud. 
 He who withstands the moment's charm, and lets 
 His* soul in brute indifference remain, 
 
75 THE TRAGEDY 
 
 OF MAN 
 
 Can no good fellow be, and should remain 
 At home. 
 
 HIPPIA. 
 
 Indeed, I almost fear the poor one 
 Has even now contracted the black death, 
 Our city's scourge. 
 
 ADAM. 
 
 Away with this dark picture ! 
 Let's have a wanton song! Who knows the best! 
 
 HIPPIA ( Singing. ) 
 Love and wine, 
 Ne'er decline; 
 
 From each bowl, now fragrance thine. 
 As the sun, 
 Shines upon 
 Graveyard stones, 
 Bleaching bones ; 
 Bliss divine, 
 Brings maid and wine, 
 Into our life, till its decline. 
 
 Love and wine, 
 
 Ne'er decline ; 
 
 From each maid new charms are thine. 
 
 As the sun, 
 
 Shines upon 
 
 Graveyard stones, 
 
 Bleaching bones, 
 
 Bliss divine 
 
 Brings maid and wine, 
 
 Into our life, till its decline. 
 
 CATULUS. 
 Most excellent! What, Cluvia, knowest thou? 
 
THE TRAGEDY 76 
 
 OF MAN 
 
 CLUVIA ( Singing. ) 
 A foolish world it was of yore: 
 Lucretia in her widow's bed, for more 
 Delights yearned not; nor held she dear, 
 Nor burned her lips, for the cavalier. 
 'Stead in the brothel to conceal the smart, 
 With cold steel, pierced she deep her heart. 
 Let us rejoice! the world is wiser grown. 
 Let us rejoice! the old time ne'er bemoan! 
 
 ALL. 
 
 Let us rejoice! the world is wiser grown. 
 Let us rejoice! the old time ne'er bemoan! 
 
 CLUVIA. 
 
 A foolish world it was of yore. 
 Brutus sat not at his villa door; 
 But grasping his sword, to battle he went; 
 As a vile mercenary, spent 
 His blood upon the barren earth, 
 For the ragged herd, devoid of worth. 
 
 ALL. 
 
 Let us rejoice! the world is wiser grown. 
 Let us rejoice ! the old time ne'er bemoan ! 
 
 CLUVIA. 
 
 A foolish world it was of yore, 
 When heroes' brains grim phantoms bore. 
 At that which holy was, we sneer. 
 If in our circus should appear, 
 A couple idiots of that sort, 
 They'd furnish us the finest sport. 
 
77 THE TRAGEDY 
 
 OF MAN 
 
 ALL. 
 
 Let us rejoice! the world is wiser grown. 
 Let us rejoice! the old time ne'er bemoan! 
 
 LUCIFER. 
 
 Ah ! Cluvia, the palm to thee belongs. 
 I wish I were the author of that lay. 
 
 ADAM. 
 
 Thou sing'st not, Julia ; why art thou so sad, 
 While all about thee merriment doth breathe? 
 Can'st thou not rest thee well upon my breast? 
 
 EVE. 
 
 Ah! well, too well. Sergiolus, believe, 
 'Tis only joy that maketh me to grieve ; 
 The joy that laughs is not true happiness. 
 Into our bliss, a drop of bitterness 
 Doth ever seem to steal ; a coming woe, 
 A vague foreboding, by which we well know 
 The moment is a flower and fades away. 
 
 ADAM. 
 E'en I this presage vague can not gainsay. 
 
 EVE. 
 
 And when unto these melodies I hark, 
 I do not grasp of uttered words the sense, 
 But o'er the waves of song, as in a barque, 
 I'm borne along as in a dream, far hence, 
 Into the distant past, neath palms, where gleams 
 Of sunlight fell, there where so guileless I, 
 In childish innocence, once played; my dreams 
 And aspirations noble were, and high. 
 
THE TRAGEDY 78 
 
 OF MAN 
 
 'Twas but a dream delirious ; forgive, 
 For now I wake; a kiss to thee I give. 
 
 ADAM. 
 
 Away with music and the dance, away ! 
 These constant sweets, as boundless as the seas 
 Repulsive are to me; my heart doth yearn 
 For bitterness, for wormwood in my wine, 
 A sting on rosy lips, and peril near! 
 (The dancers go away. Cries of agony are heard 
 without.) 
 
 ADAM. 
 What cry is that which pierces to the marrow? 
 
 LUCIFER. 
 
 They're crucifying several of those madmen, 
 Dreamers of justice and fraternity. 
 
 CATULUS. 
 
 Why did they not remain at home, forget 
 The world, enjoy their lives, and never care 
 For others' weal or woe? 
 
 LUCIFEB. 
 
 The poor man says 
 
 Unto the rich, ** Be thou my brother " ; but, 
 Exchange the two, he'll nail him to the cross. 
 
 CATULUS. 
 
 Then let us laugh at power and misery, 
 The pestilence that decimates the city, 
 All fate divine! 
 
 (Renewed shrieks.) 
 
79 THE TRAGEDY 
 
 OF MAN 
 
 ADAM (To himself.) 
 
 Methinks I see 
 
 The past, as back on wings of memory 
 I'm borne, when aspirations high did sway 
 My soul. Thus, Julia sweet, did'st thou not say? 
 
 EVE. 
 
 Yes. 
 
 (It has grown dark. In front of the hall <a funeral 
 procession, burning torches, and mourning wo- 
 men are seen. The whole company seem to be 
 overcome, and a painful silence prevails.) 
 
 LUCIFEE (Laughing aloud.) 
 I perceive the mirth from here has fled, 
 The wine all out, and wit and wisdom dead. 
 Must the sour gentleman replenish both? 
 Perhaps some one among us is afraid, 
 Or just converted. 
 
 ADAM (Hurling his cup at Lucifer.) 
 
 Perish, if thou so 
 Believest ! 
 
 LUCIFEB. 
 
 Now, let me invite among us 
 Another guest, who may perchance revive 
 Our mirth. Slaves! bring in him whom by the light 
 Of torches you accompany, for we 
 Would treat him to a cup of fiery wine. 
 (The corpse is brought in an open coffin and placed 
 upon the table. The funeral procession in the 
 rear. Lucifer raises the cup of wine and toasts 
 the corpse.) 
 Drink deep! Thy turn to-day, to-morrow mine! 
 
THE TRAGEDY 80 
 
 OF MAN 
 
 HIPPIA. 
 Perhaps thou yearnest for a kiss. 
 
 LUCIFEB. 
 
 Then steal 
 The pest that lurks within his lips. 
 
 HIPPIA. 
 
 If thee 
 
 I kiss, why not kiss him as well? 
 (Leans over the coffin and kisses the corpse. The 
 Apostle Peter steps forth from the crowd.) 
 
 THE APOSTLE PETEE. 
 
 Stand back! 
 Thou breathest in the air of pestilence! 
 
 (All rise in fright.) 
 
 ALL. 
 
 The pestilence! How terrible! Away! 
 
 THE APOSTLE PETER. 
 You miserable, sinful, cowardly race! 
 While happiness about you smiles, ye're like 
 The fly that basketh in 'the sunshine, boldly, 
 Scornfully, on God and virtue trampling; 
 But when dread peril at your door doth knock, 
 Ye feel the mighty pressure of God's hand ; 
 In doubt and abject terror, then ye quail. 
 Feel ye not now the weight of Heaven's wrath 
 Upon you? Look about you here: the city 
 Desolated, see ! Your golden grain 
 Is trampled down by savage alien hordes. 
 Ail order is undone, for none command, 
 
81 THE TRAGEDY 
 
 OF MAN 
 
 And none obey. Murder and rapine bold 
 
 Stalk now through the once peaceful domiciles. 
 
 Pale fear and horror leaving in their wake. 
 
 From Heaven nor from the earth, no mercy comes. 
 
 So ye cannot, with lust's intoxicant, 
 
 E'er frown this call, which penetrates the depths 
 
 Profound of hearts, which to more lofty aims 
 
 Doth vainly spur them. Is it then not true, 
 
 Voluptuousness bringeth no content, 
 
 But loathing waketh in the breast? And now, 
 
 Ye look about you, dumb and terrified, 
 
 With trembling on your lips. But all in vain! 
 
 No longer in the gods do ye believe ; 
 
 In cold and stormy death they lie, crumbling 
 
 Into dust; 
 
 (The images of the gods are seen, crumbling 
 
 away. ) 
 
 And ye have not yet found 
 The new God, from this ruin rising. See! 
 But look around ! What desolates the city 
 More than the plague? Thousands, from couches soft 
 Uprising, people the desert land of Thebes; 
 A nation of rude anchorites, who seek 
 To waken blunted sensibilities, 
 And elevate them. So this bastard race 
 Must perish, to clear and purify the land 
 For the new world, which now must take its place. 
 
 HIPPIA. 
 
 (Having fallen down in front of the table.) 
 O! Woe is me! How terrible the pain! 
 Cold sweat and fires of Orcus, alternating. 
 The plague! the plague! I perish. Is there none 
 Among you, who so long shared my delights, 
 Not one, to tend me now? 
 
THE TRAGEDY 82 
 
 OP MAN 
 
 LUCIFEE. 
 
 To-day, 'tis thou, 
 To-inorrow, I, my sweet. 
 
 HIPPIA. 
 
 Then kill me, else 
 My curse will follow thee. 
 
 THE APOSTLE PETER (Approaching her.) 
 
 Curse not, poor maid. 
 Almighty God and I come to thine aid; 
 He is the everlasting God of love! 
 I raise thee now to His high realm above ; 
 With holy water now I cleanse thy soul, 
 And thee 'mong his own faithful flock enroll. 
 
 (Takes a bowl from the table and christens her.) 
 
 HIPPIA. 
 'Tis well with me, my Father! now I rest. 
 
 (Dies.) 
 CATULUS. 
 
 Unto the desert Thebes to-day I'll flee; 
 For I this loathsome, sinful world detest. 
 
 CLUVIA. 
 Wait, Catulus, for I would go with thee! 
 
 (They depart.) 
 ADAM. 
 
 (Advances, lost in thought.) 
 And Julia, what dost thou do here, where death 
 Has killed all joy with its most cruel breath? 
 
 EVE. 
 Is upt my place where thou my lover art? 
 
83 THE TRAGEDY 
 
 OF MAN 
 
 Ah, me; thou could'st have found within my heart 
 
 The evidence of sentiments sublime, 
 
 If lust had not e'er been thine object prime. 
 
 ADAM. 
 
 Too true; the more the pity, that 'tis true, 
 
 That woe and misery must be our due ; 
 
 For sin to suffer untold agony. 
 
 (Kneels and raises his Jiand to heaven.) 
 
 Oh! if above a mighty God there be; 
 
 If o'er us be his care and might, to earth 
 
 New races and ideals bring, the worth 
 
 Of man increase; be nobler aims begun. 
 
 We are but weak ; help us, God, mighty one ! 
 
 (In the sky, the sign of the cross is visible; from be- 
 hind the mountains is seen the glow of burning 
 cities. From the mountain tops come barbarous 
 people. From the distance sounds a pious 
 hymn. ) 
 
 LUCIFEB ( Soliloquizing. ) 
 
 This scene doth make me shudder somewhat, though 
 
 With man, I do not need to strive ; for that 
 
 Which I cannot, he doeth in my stead. 
 
 This juggling I have seen before. When slow 
 
 The halo fades away, there still remains 
 
 The bloody cross! 
 
 THE APOSTLE PETEE. 
 The Lord hath heard thy prayer. 
 Look all around thee here ; the mouldy earth 
 Will be reborn. These barb'rous warriors 
 In bearskin clad, thy fairest cities fire, 
 Their steeds down trampling fields of centuries, 
 Deserted temples into stalls converting. 
 Fresh blood they'll pour into th' impoverished veins; 
 
THE TRAGEDY 84 
 
 OF MAN 
 
 And those who in the circus hymns entune, 
 Bleeding and torn, by ravenous lions' claws, 
 Will sow ideas new, fraternity 
 And individuality, to shake 
 The world's foundations. 
 
 ADAM. 
 
 I feel, I feel, the soul 
 
 Hath other yearnings, than for slothful joys, 
 Upon the pillow's swelling softness. Joy 
 More satisfying comes of shedding blood 
 For noble purposes. 
 
 THE APOSTLE PETEB. 
 Then let this be 
 
 Thine aim ; glory for God, and work for thee, 
 For personality is free, and all 
 Which therein is, may to account be brought, 
 But joined to one command, and that is love. 
 
 ADAM. 
 
 Then up to battle, and to inspiration 
 For the new principles, the world anew 
 Creating, whose blossom shall be chivalry ; 
 The poetry, which at the altar's side 
 Shall bloom ideal high of womanhood. 
 
 (He departs, supported by Peter.) 
 
 LUCIFEB. 
 
 Impossible is that which lureth thee, 
 Though manly and though glorious it be ! 
 It pleases God, it leads toward his care; 
 The devil laughs, it drives thee to despair! 
 
 (Follows Adam.) 
 I 
 
85 THE TRAGEDY 
 
 OF MAN 
 
 SCENE VII. 
 
 (Constantinople. Market place, with citizens loung- 
 ing about. In the centre, the palace of the 
 Patriarch, to the right, a convent, to the left a 
 grove. Adam as Tancred, in the prime of life, 
 with other knights returning from the crusade 
 of Asia. Waving banners and flourish of trum- 
 pets. Lucifer as his halberdier. Evening; later, 
 night.) 
 
 FIRST CITIZEN. 
 
 Here comes again another savage horde. 
 
 Come, let us flee, and bolt our doors and gates ! 
 
 They come to plunder, and are desperate. 
 
 SECOND CITIZEN. 
 
 Our women save; take heed! these brutes in mail 
 The pleasures of the harem too well know. 
 
 FIBST CITIZEN. 
 Our women too, the rights of conquerors. 
 
 ADAM. 
 
 Stop, men ! don't run ; why run away from us 
 Or see ye not this holy symbol here 
 Fraternally that binds us to one aim? 
 Into the heart of Asia we have borne 
 The light of our true faith, the law of love 
 To countless millions of barbarians, 
 Where our redeemer's holy cradle stood; 
 And 'mong you here, is there no charity? 
 
 FIRST CITIZEN. 
 
 We've heard such speech before, and often too, 
 When lo! fire brands into our houses flew. 
 
THE TRAGEDY 
 
 OF MAN 
 
 ADAM (To the knights.) 
 This is, behold, the awful curs'd fruit, 
 Which grows, when we permit such robbers vile, 
 Waving the holy banner in their hands, 
 Our plans to prostitute, and this must be 
 The sad result, when cowardly flattery 
 Of the passions of the mob ahead 
 Doth press and take the lead. My knightly friends, 
 As long as with unblemished honor, we 
 Can draw the sword, for valor and defense 
 Of womankind, and glory of our God; 
 So long can we insist, that Providence 
 Has sent us forth, to curb those demons foul ; 
 Despite their own base selves, to lead them back 
 To paths of virtue, which all men once trod, 
 Performing deeds sublime, and praising God. 
 
 LUCIFEB. 
 
 Fair words thou speakest, Tancred, but if still 
 No longer by the people recognized 
 Wert thou, as leader? 
 
 ADAM. 
 
 Where the spirit is, 
 There is the victory, conquer I must. 
 
 LUCIFEB. 
 
 But if they too this spirit have, wilt thou 
 Descend to them? 
 
 ADAM. 
 
 But why should I descend? 
 Were it not nobler them to elevate? 
 But to resign the dangers of the combat 
 In l^attle, because alone, were just as mean, 
 
87 THE TRAGEDY 
 
 OF MAN 
 
 As srnall-souled, as with envy to reject 
 A comradeship in glorious victory. 
 
 LUCIFER. 
 
 Well ! well ! what has become of that great thought 
 For which the martyrs in the circus died? 
 And individual liberty is this? 
 'Tis of fraternity a wondrous sort. 
 
 ADAM. 
 
 Mock not, nor for one moment e'en believe 
 That I, the glorious teachings do not heed. 
 They fill my soul. Let him who feels himself 
 Inspired by the holy spark, go on, 
 And if he reaches us, with real joy 
 We will receive him in our midst, and then 
 A sword thrust raises him into our order. 
 But we must guard with vigilance the treasures 
 Of our order, while fermenting chaos 
 Prevails therein, while men still disagree. 
 Ah! were it here, ah! were it here, the day, 
 That day, when our redemption full shall be, 
 When all the barriers fall, when all is pure. 
 But I would doubt the advent of that day 
 If our Almighty God himself were not 
 The founder of the mighty work. My friends, 
 Ye see how we have been received, as waifs 
 Among the city's murm'ring populace; 
 So naught is left us now, but in yon grove, 
 Our camp to pitch, as we were wont to do 
 Among the pagan folk. A better time 
 Will coine March on, and I will join you there; 
 Each knight will answer for his retinue. 
 
 (The crusaders withdraw.) 
 
THE TRAGEDY 88 
 
 OF MAN 
 
 (Lucifer laughs mockingly.) 
 
 LUCIFER. 
 
 A pity, that thy sentiments sublime, 
 Once more should like the famous apple prove; 
 Fair to the eye, but rotten to the core. 
 
 ADAM. 
 
 Hold! Hold! must e'er all things deride and scorn? 
 Hast thou foresworn all nobler sentiments? 
 
 LUCIFER. 
 
 If I believed, what then would it avail, 
 Thy kind believing not? This knightly order, 
 Which like a lighthouse, 'mid the ocean's waves 
 Thou'st set, sometime, a ruin standing there, 
 Its lights extinguished, will become a reef, 
 More perilous to the brave mariner 
 Than many others, which had never light. 
 All things that live, their blessings strewing round, 
 In time must die, the soul will take its flight; 
 The body liveth on, a carcass vile 
 Exhaling all its deadly miasmata, 
 In the new world, which 'round it doth unfold. 
 See, thus inherit we, from bygone times, 
 All that is grand. 
 
 ADAM. 
 
 Our order, now sublime, 
 
 When once it does dissolve, the holy doctrines 
 Will have permeated all the races, 
 Then there will be no danger more. 
 
 LUCIFER. 
 
 This Holy Word, it is, which I contend, 
 Becomes a curse, one which some day will rend 
 
89 THE TRAGEDY 
 
 OF MAN 
 
 The whole of Christendom. This Holy Word 
 You twist and turn, until grown quite absurd; 
 You file and rasp, you sharpen and you split, 
 'Till it for bedlam makes man fit : 
 Although exact conceptions no man can 
 E'er grasp, you still will scrutinize and scan. 
 Look at this sword ; it could be more or less 
 In length; a sword it still remains, confess. 
 We could continue this to weariness; 
 The exact boundaries we cannot guess. 
 I do admit thy senses feel the truth, 
 When on the whole a change occurs. Forsooth, 
 Why do I preach? This talk but wearies me, 
 Just look around and you will see. 
 
 (A few citizens have again come on the scene.) 
 
 ADAM. 
 
 My friends, 
 
 My people, weary, seek asylum here, 
 Perhaps not vainly, in the capital 
 Of Christendom. 
 
 THIBD CITIZEN. 
 It is a question, though, 
 If in your heresy, ye are not worse 
 Than pagans. 
 
 FOUBTH CITIZEN. 
 Say, dost believe Homoousian, 
 Or Homoiousian? 
 
 ADAM. 
 I comprehend not. 
 
 LUCIFEE. 
 
 Betray thyself not! This is most important 
 Here. 
 
THE TRAGEDY 90 
 
 OF MAN 
 
 FOUBTH CITIZEN. 
 See how he hesitates. He is 
 A heretic. 
 
 OTHEES. 
 
 Away from them, away ! 
 Let us conceal ourselves within our homes. 
 And cursed be he, who offers them asylum. 
 
 (They disperse.) 
 
 (The Patriarch with his retinue, in princely pomp, 
 comes out of his palace, followed by a crowd of 
 friars leading some heretics in chains. Soldiers 
 and populace in the rear.) 
 
 ADAM. 
 
 I am amazed! Tell me, what prince doth there 
 Approach, so haughty and aggressive? 
 
 LUCIFEB. 
 
 This 
 The arch priest is, successor of the apostles. 
 
 ADAM. 
 
 And that bare footed, ragged tribe, leading 
 The fettered prisoners, with joy quite unconcealed, 
 Beneath that semblance of humility? 
 
 LUCIFER. 
 A host of friars, Christian cynics. 
 
 ADAM. 
 
 Ne'er 
 Amid my native mountains, saw I such. 
 
91 THE TRAGEDY 
 
 OF MAN 
 
 LUCIFEB. 
 
 But later, them wilt see them. Leprosy 
 Thou knowest, slowly spreads; but heed, that thou 
 Give no offense to this most virtuous people; 
 From this same cause, irreconcilable. 
 
 ADAM. 
 What virtue though, can such as these possess? 
 
 LUCIFEB. 
 
 Mortification and self-abnegation 
 
 Their virtues are, which on the cross, thy Master 
 
 Once began. 
 
 ADAM. 
 
 Thereby he brought salvation 
 To the world; but God, these cowards blaspheme, 
 Like unto rebels, all his grace despising 
 He who 'gainst a fly, as 'gainst a bear 
 Doth arm himself, and giveth battle, is 
 A fool. 
 
 LUCIFEE. 
 
 But if they look upon the fly, 
 
 As if it were a bear, is 't not their right, 
 
 As real heroes of asceticism, 
 
 Is 't not their right, to chase to hell, those who 
 
 This life enjoy? 
 
 ADAM. 
 
 Like Thomas, do I see, 
 Believing not, but nearer, these delusions 
 Would I view. 
 
 (Stepping up to the Patriarch.) 
 My father, we are those 
 Who battled for the Holy Sepulchre, 
 And from our journey wearisome, we now 
 
THE TRAGEDY 92 
 
 OF MAN 
 
 Would rest, but these receive us not, thou 
 Who art all-powerful, help us in our need. 
 
 PATBIABCH. 
 
 My son, to trifling work I can not now 
 Attend. God's glory and the people's weal 
 Require my judgment on the heretics, 
 That flourish as the weeds, exhaling 'round 
 Their poison, and although with fire and sword 
 We thin them out, with new strength, e'er they rise 
 And bring all hell upon us. Now, if ye 
 Are warriors and Christians, why seek ye there, 
 In distant lands, the Saracen? The foe 
 Is here more dangerous. Then rise! lay waste 
 The villages with women, children, age! 
 
 ADAM. 
 My father, dost not wish the innocent 
 
 PATRIARCH. 
 
 The reptile too is innocent when small, 
 Or when his tooth of venom he hath lost; 
 Dost spare him then? 
 
 ADAM. 
 
 Ah! truly dire the sin 
 
 Must be, that so inflames the Church, whose law 
 Is that of love! 
 
 PATRIARCH. 
 
 My son, he loveth not 
 
 Who flattereth the flesh, but who leads back 
 The erring soul if even at the sword's point 
 If needful be, on through the flame, to Him 
 Who said, " Not peace, but strife, unto the world 
 I bfing." These wicked heretics are teaching 
 The myst'ry of the Holy Trinity, 
 
93 THE TRAGEDY 
 
 OF MAN 
 
 Homoiousian, when naught, the church 
 Has taught but Homoousian as a tenet 
 Of the faith. 
 
 FRIARS. 
 
 Death unto them ! The stake 
 Burns even now. 
 
 ADAM. 
 
 Give up, my friends, the " i," 
 A greater blessing waits the sacrifice, 
 In battling for the Holy Sepulchre. 
 
 AGED HERETIC. 
 
 O, Satan, do not tempt! for we shall lead 
 For the true faith, e'en as God hath ordained. 
 
 A FRIAR. 
 Ha ! bold art thou. Dost thou the true faith claim ? 
 
 AN AGED HERETIC. 
 
 Doth Rimini not speak for us, as well 
 As other synods numberless? 
 
 A FRIAR. 
 
 In paths 
 
 Of error wandered they, but Nicea 
 And others orthodox, did they so teach? 
 
 AGED HERETIC. 
 
 The partisans! how boldly they lead on 
 To argument with us, but answer now, 
 Where have ye, like to Arius, a father? 
 Or the two Eusebii? 
 
 FRIAR. 
 
 Have ye 
 An Athanasius then? 
 
THE TRAGEDY 
 
 OF MAN 
 
 AGED HEBETIC. 
 Your martyrs, though, 
 Where then are they? 
 
 FEIAB. 
 We have still more than you. 
 
 AGED HEBETIC. 
 
 Fine martyrs, blinded by the devil's wiles, 
 To death condemned. Ye are great Babylon 
 I say, the whore, of whom St. John doth say, 
 She shall be wiped from off the earth. 
 
 FBIAB. 
 
 And ye, 
 
 The seven-headed dragon, antichrist, 
 Of whom St. John doth speak. Knaves and swindlers 
 Are ye all, companions of the devil. 
 
 AGED HEBETIC. 
 Robbers, serpents, whorers, jugglers, ye! 
 
 PATBIABCH. 
 
 Away with them ! We have delayed too long, 
 For our God's glory. To the stake with them! 
 
 AGED HEBETIC. 
 
 For God's glory, well thou sayest, knave; 
 For God's glory, falls the sacrifice. 
 Ye are the stronger ones, and have your will; 
 But heaven will judge, if good your deeds. E'en now 
 Your hours of sin are told, for from our blood, 
 New warriors will be born, for thought will live. 
 The fire that upward flames, will light the world 
 For future centuries. Then come, my friends, 
 Unto this death of glory, let us go! 
 
95 THE TRAGEDY 
 
 OF MAN 
 
 THE HERETICS (Singing in chorus.) 
 (1.) My God, my God! why hast thou forsaken 
 
 me? and why art thou so far from helping me, and 
 
 from the words of my roaring? 
 
 (2.) Oh. my God, I cry in the day time, but thou 
 
 hearest not, and in the night season, and am not 
 
 silent. 
 
 (3.) But thou are holy. (XXII Psalm.) 
 
 THE MONKS (Breaking into the song.) 
 (1.) Plead my cause, Oh Lord, with them that 
 strive with me, fight against them that fight against 
 me. 
 
 (2.) Take hold of shield and buckler and stand 
 for mine help. 
 
 (3.) Draw out also the spear and stop the way 
 against them that persecute me. (XXXV Psalm.) 
 (In the meantime, the Patriarch has resumed his 
 march. Several friars with tracts mingle with 
 the crusaders.) 
 
 LUCIFEB. 
 
 Why standest thou, so dumb and fearful, say! 
 See'st thou a tragedy? As comedy 
 If thou dost view it, 'twill amuse thee well. 
 
 ADAM. 
 
 Ah, do not jest ! So for an " i ", they go 
 Resignedly to death! What then is high, 
 And what is great? 
 
 LUCIFER. 
 
 That which perchance to others 
 Is ridiculous. 'Tis but a hair 
 That these two conceptions doth divide; 
 A chord within the heart, that gives the verdict; 
 
THE TRAGEDY 96 
 
 OF MAN 
 
 That judge mysterious, called sympathy, 
 Which defies, or killeth with contempt. 
 
 ADAM. 
 
 But why must all this sin before me rise, 
 This trivial strife in wisdom's proud domain, 
 This fatal venom, masterfully drawn 
 From out the brightest and the freshest flower? 
 And once I knew this blossom fair, in days 
 Of our blest faith's maturing time. Who was 
 The culprit who hath crushed it to the earth? 
 
 LUCIFER. 
 
 This culprit was but victory itself, 
 Which through a thousand interests, divides, 
 While peril binds and strengthens, thus creating 
 Martyrs, as among those heretics 
 One sees. 
 
 ADAM. 
 
 In truth, I'd cast aside my sword, 
 And northward to my native land would I 
 Return, where in the shade of ancient forests, 
 Honor and pure simplicity still live, 
 Despite the subtle poison of the times, 
 But for a voice that whispers to my soul ; 
 To me, 'tis given, to reform the age. 
 
 LUCIFEB. 
 
 Vain effort! As an individual, 
 You wilt accomplish naught against the age ; 
 'Tis a stream, which bears along, or sinks; 
 Wherein each one must swim, and none control. 
 Those whom the chronicler calls great, are those 
 Who comprehend their time, but give not birth 
 To new ideas, for never comes the dawn 
 
97 THE TRAGEDY 
 
 OF MAN 
 
 At crowing of the cock, but when the dawn 
 Approaches, then the cock doth crow. See! those 
 Who in their fetters rush to martyrdom, 
 With scorn upon them heaped, a generation 
 In advance can see ; now 'bout them, dawn 
 Ideas new, for which they die ; their offspring 
 Will imbibe them with the air, unwitting. 
 But leave we this, and look a little, there 
 Toward thy camp. What do those dirty monks? 
 What wares sell they? Of what, then, do they prate, 
 To that accompaniment of gestures wild? 
 Come, let us list. 
 
 A MONK. 
 
 Brave warriors and knights 
 
 Here is your greatest chance. This book indites 
 What's to be done in your most sorry plights ; 
 This book will show how long your souls in hell 
 For theft, or for church robbery must dwell ; 
 How long for fornication or for rape. 
 It teaches also, how you can escape 
 Hell's tortures, by the payment of a fine ; 
 How much it is, this book will here define. 
 The rich man pays each year, a score and odd 
 Soldi, though the poor appeases God 
 With three ; and if he cannot pay e'en three, 
 The peace of his poor soul may purchased be, 
 By several thousand lashes well applied. 
 Come, buy my books, your conduct's surest guide. 
 
 THE CRUSADERS. 
 This way with it to us, here, saintly father! 
 
 ADAM. 
 
 You wicked purchasers, and sellers too! 
 Quick, draw the sword, and scatter this vile market. 
 
THE TRAGEDY 98 
 
 OF MAN 
 
 LUCIFER. 
 
 Your pardon, but this monk is my old comrade 
 
 And I dislike not men like unto this. 
 
 If thus, God's glory can be heightened, then 
 
 Thereby, mine own is raised proportionately; 
 
 'Tis thou who art a little in the lurch. 
 
 (Eve, as Isaum, with Helen her maid, rushes, sob- 
 bing, to Adam, followed by crusaders, who steal 
 away. ) 
 
 EVE (Swooning.) 
 
 Protect me, hero! 
 
 ADAM (Lifting lier up.) 
 Rise, O noble dame! 
 
 Here art thou safe, but raise those beauteous eyes 
 Entrancing! Ah! what hath befallen her? 
 
 HELEN. 
 
 We were enjoying nature's beauties there, 
 Within our garden's deepest shaded bower ; 
 While thoughtless resting on the turf an hour, 
 We listened to the nightingale, with keen 
 Delight, and sang ourselves, when lo ! between 
 The shrubs, appeared two burning lustful eyes ; 
 Affrighted, we had but the time to rise 
 And run, pursued, oh! think of it by four 
 Of your crusaders we had not seen before, 
 And panting, with tremendous strides, they flew 
 And almost caught us, when we came to you. 
 
 ADAM. 
 
 1 scarcely know if I could breathe a prayer, 
 For her to wake ; she like a vision fair, 
 Mi^ht vanish. How can a body be so noble, 
 Spiritual, and adorable? 
 
THE TRAGEDY 
 
 OF MAN 
 
 LUCIFEB. 
 
 Spiritual body! Fate indeed, 
 
 Could not chastise the lover more than heed 
 
 His insane wishes, make him realize 
 
 All that in her he doth idealize. 
 
 ADAM. 
 
 Methinks, e'er this, that thou to me wert known, 
 That we together stood, before God's throne. 
 
 LUCIFER. 
 
 By all things, I beseech thee, when alone, 
 Make love as pleaseth thee, and sigh and moan. 
 That which delectable may be, for two, 
 Is to a third, insipid, that eschew. 
 
 ADAM. 
 She wakes she smiles! I thank thee, God on high. 
 
 EVE. 
 
 For saving me, brave knight, how e'er can I 
 Thank thee? 
 
 ADAM. 
 Thy gentle speech is sweet reward. 
 
 LUCIFEB (To Helen.) 
 Meager enough. But dost thou regard 
 My claim in gratitude from thee? 
 
 HELEN. 
 
 That's good! 
 Why do I owe thee any gratitude? 
 
THE TRAGEDY 100 
 
 OF MAN 
 
 LUCIFER. 
 
 Dost think, that where the knight saves lady fair, 
 He also saves the abigail? I swear, 
 That's vain conceit If dames are saved by knights, 
 Then for the ladies' maids the esquire fights. 
 
 HELEN. 
 
 What do I gain? If grateful I to thee 
 It is as if thou had'st not rescued me; 
 If not, still, I were damned. The four men who 
 Pursued us now, to give them their just due, 
 Were after all not ill. 
 
 ADAM. 
 
 Fair lady where 
 iWilt thou be led? 
 
 EVE. 
 
 Before us over there, 
 The convent's door. 
 
 ADAM. 
 
 The convent's door, hast said? 
 Shall with its closing all my hopes have fled? 
 A token give me, pray, which I may tie 
 Here to my cross, and let it signify 
 That while for Christ and his great cause I fight 
 'T will bring again this dream, so fair, so bright 
 That not too wearisome the waiting be 
 The years, beyond which, beckoneth to me 
 The prize. 
 
 EVE. 
 Here, take this ribbon. 
 
101 THE 'TRAGEDY 
 
 OF MAN 
 
 ADAM. 
 
 But 'tis dark, 
 
 Not woe give me, fair lady, but the spark 
 Of hope. 
 
 EVE. 
 
 My pledge it is, for I in darkness grope. 
 Within the convent's walls, there is no hope. 
 
 ADAM. 
 
 Nor love; and yet where e'er thou art, sweet maid, 
 There must be love. Thou art not yet arrayed 
 As nun? 
 
 EVE. 
 
 With questions cause me no more woe ; 
 For grieve I must, to see thy sadness grow. 
 
 LUCIFER (To Helen.) 
 And will the convent door close too on thee? 
 
 HELEN. 
 
 Of course, but to the bottom of the sea, 
 The key's not thrown. 
 
 LUCIFEB. 
 
 A thousand pities too, 
 For what fine elegies I then might hew. 
 From that sad circumstance. 
 
 HELEN. 
 
 Deceiving wight, 
 Begone ! away, away, out of my sight ! 
 
 LUCIFEB. 
 
 But why? My love to prove, I only strive, 
 And for the key, to ocean's depth I'd dive. 
 
THE TiiAGEDY 102 
 
 OF MAN 
 
 HELEN. 
 Ah! not so much, ask I of thee. 
 
 LUCIFEB. 
 
 I go. 
 
 I feel the monster of the deep below ; 
 E'en now, he snaps at me. 
 
 HELEN. 
 
 Come back ! Of fear, 
 
 I'll surely die, if thou depart'st from here. 
 Thou'lt find the key upon my window sill. 
 
 ADAM. 
 
 Tell me thy name, at least, my prayers I'll fill 
 With breathings of it, show'ring blessings o'er thee, 
 For thou permit'st me not thy misery 
 To share. 
 
 EVE. 
 
 Isaura is my name, brave knight ; 
 And what is thine? for prayers to recite, 
 The nun beseems. 
 
 ADAM. 
 Tancred am I. 
 
 EVE. 
 God be 
 With thee, Tancred. 
 
 ADAM. 
 
 Oh! go not! hear my plea, 
 Isaura, or I'll curse the name which I 
 First heard thee utter, in the sad good-bye. 
 Swift passed the moment, even for a dream ; 
 If I Ktaow not the mystic golden seam 
 
103 THE TRAGEDY 
 
 OF MAN 
 
 Of thy dark fate, I cannot even weave 
 This dream into a picture fair, believe. 
 
 EVE. 
 
 My father for the Holy Grave did fight, 
 While in his camp 'mong savages, one night 
 The brutal foe came on him unaware; 
 Seeing no hope, he solemnly did swear 
 Upon the cross, that should he win the strife, 
 And to his home return again, in life, 
 He'd dedicate to Virgin Mary mild 
 His little child, myself. Good fortune smiled, 
 He won. Returning, he renewed his vow 
 Upon the Blessed Host, and I did bow 
 My will. 
 
 ADAM. 
 
 O Holy Mother, far above, 
 Thou pure embodiment of holy love! 
 And did'st thou then, not sore offended, turn 
 From that unholy vow, and did'st not spurn 
 Those, who of thy most godlike virtue, dare 
 To make but beastly mockery and snare, 
 And change Heaven's richest grace into a curse? 
 
 HELEN. 
 To hear my story now, art thou averse? 
 
 LUCIFER. 
 
 The story of thy life, I know is this, 
 Thou lov'dst and wert betrayed, but not amiss, 
 Thou lov'dst again, this time thou didst deceive? 
 Then still another love, who I believe 
 But bored and wearied thee. Thy heart's now void 
 And waits, with a new love to be employed. 
 
THE TRAGEDY 104 
 
 OF MAN 
 
 HELEN. 
 
 Peculiar! Is the devil himself in thee? 
 But, that thou couldst believe my heart were free 
 At present, did I not think thee so poor. 
 
 LUCIFER. 
 
 My Lord, make haste, for thou can'st not endure 
 The sad words of the last farewell to bid, 
 While of my conquest, I can scarce get rid. 
 
 ADAM (To Eve.) 
 
 Each word of thine is like a poisoned dart 
 Give me one kiss, to heal my wounded heart. 
 
 EVE. 
 
 Brave knight, what dost thou ask? Thou'st heard 
 my vow. 
 
 ADAM. 
 Ay ! but my love for thee, thou must allow. 
 
 EVE. 
 
 Thou art, or can'st be happy yet, but how 
 Can I forget? My strength is waning now ; 
 I go* farewell we'll meet in Heaven some day. 
 
 ADAM. 
 
 Farewell. The memory of this hour, for aye 
 I'll guard. 
 
 HELEN. 
 
 Ah! coward, must I do all! (aloud.) The key, 
 Will in the window be, not in the sea. 
 
 ADAM (Rousing himself.) 
 Now*et us go. 
 
106 THE TRAGEDY 
 
 OF MAN 
 
 LUCIFEB. 
 
 It's late, and all is o'er. 
 
 Such is thine insane race; from shore to shore 
 They float Women, you men regard one day 
 As tools, to satisfy the lustful play 
 Of all your beastly passions, with brute glee 
 You wrest the pollen of the poetry 
 From her fair cheek, robbing yourselves, thereby 
 Of love's most precious blossom. Ah! what fools 
 You are ! Another sentiment then rules : 
 To-morrow, then, you place her side by side 
 With God, upon his altar deified! 
 For her ye vainly strive brave war's alarms, 
 Until unfruitful, fade her sterile charms, 
 But why not recognize her, honor too, 
 In her own woman's sphere, as is her due? 
 (In the meantime, it has grown dark. The moon 
 rises. Isaura and Helen at the window.) 
 
 EVE. 
 
 How longingly he gazed, this hero brave, 
 E'en trembled as so lovingly he gave 
 His promise sweet, but virtue and my vow, 
 But sacrifice and suffering allow. 
 
 HELEN. 
 
 'Tis wonderful, how foolish is our sex! 
 If prejudices, which harass and vex, 
 We overcome, we run like to the brute 
 To satisfy our lust: each attribute 
 Of worth eschew and sink into the mire. 
 And if not so, if we curb all desire, 
 Then of our shadows e'en afraid we are. 
 Ourselves of all delights of love debar, 
 
THE TRAGEDY 106 
 
 OF MAN 
 
 And suffer all our charms to fade and dry, 
 Ourselves and others, sweetest joys deny. 
 Why follow not a medium line or road? 
 What's wrong, in just a harmless episode? 
 A tender scene, in strict propriety? 
 But woman's soul, extremes alone can see. 
 
 EVE. 
 
 Helen, look! See, is he still standing here 
 For how could he so quickly disappear? 
 Oh, how I long for his dear voice, the sound. 
 
 ADAM (To Lucifer.) 
 
 Is she still at the window! Look around! 
 Will she not then one glance send after me? 
 Once more would I her radiant beauty see. 
 Isaura, pardon me that still I'm here. 
 
 EVE. 
 
 For both of us, 'twere better if elsewhere 
 Thou wert. The heart's wounds quickly heal, but stir 
 The heart strings, sorrows new we then incur. 
 
 ADAM. 
 
 And fear'st thou not to look upon the night, 
 Which like a mighty heart with love replete, 
 Doth throb, where all but we in love delight? 
 Fair nature's voice, will it not rouse the sweet, 
 The magic charm of love? 
 
 EVE. 
 
 All this, believe, 
 
 I, too, as in a fairy dream, perceive, 
 A vision, as it were. On wings of air 
 I l&ar in dulcet tones a song most fair; 
 
107 THE TRAGEDY 
 
 OF MAN 
 
 I see the smiling genii legionvvise, 
 From flow'ring chalice and from shrub arise, 
 Fraternal kisses sending o'er and o'er; 
 But Tancred, they will speak to us no more. 
 
 ADAM. 
 
 Why no! Why not? Withstand can this frail wall, 
 The arm, which many a bulwark caused to fall, 
 In pagan lands? 
 
 LUCIFEB. 
 
 The age to thee, saith " No ! " 
 And stronger 'tis than thou. 
 
 ADAM. 
 
 Who saith 'tis so? 
 (In the rear the fires of the friars have been lit.) 
 
 THE HERETICS (Singing in the distance.) 
 
 (21.) 
 
 Deliver my soul from the sword, my darling from 
 the power of the dog. 
 
 (22.) 
 
 Save me from the lion's mouth, for thou hast heard 
 me from the horns of the unicorns. 
 
 (23.) 
 
 I will declare thy name unto my brethren, in the 
 midst of the congregation I will praise thee. 
 
 EVE. 
 Have mercy, God, upon their sinful souls! 
 
 ADAM (Horrified.) 
 That awful song! 
 
 LUCIFEB. 
 Your nuptial hymn dost hear. 
 
THE TRAGEDY 108 
 
 OF MAN 
 
 ADAM. 
 
 Ah, be it as it may ! for thee, sweet maid, 
 All things to suffer, I would have no fear. 
 
 THE MONKS. 
 
 (26.) 
 
 Let them be ashamed and brought to confusion to- 
 gether that rejoice in my hurt. 
 
 (27.) 
 
 Let them shout for joy and be glad that favor my 
 righteous course, yea let them say continually: 
 Let the Lord be magnified, which hath pleasure in 
 the prosperity of his servant. 
 
 (At the beginning of this psalm Adam had stepped in 
 front of the convent door. From the tower comes 
 the shriek of an owl, witches descend from all 
 around, and in front of Adam a skeleton rises 
 from the ground, and stands, threatening.) 
 
 EVE (Slamming the window.) 
 Oh, help me God! 
 
 THE SKELETON. 
 From this sacred threshold, go! 
 
 ADAM. 
 Who art thou, spectre? 
 
 SKELETON. 
 
 He who will bestow 
 
 His presence on thee, in her ev'ry kiss, 
 And each embrace thou stealest for thy bliss. 
 
 WITCHES ( Jeeringly. ) 
 Bitter harvest from sweet seeds ; 
 
109 THE TRAGEDY 
 
 OF MAN 
 
 With the dove, the serpent breeds. 
 Isaura, thee we call! 
 
 ADAM. 
 
 What hideous shapes! 
 
 Are ye transformed, or I? I knew you once, 
 When ye did smile. What is reality 
 And what, delusion? And how your magic now 
 Enervates me! 
 
 LUCIFER. 
 
 How unexpectedly 
 I came upon this dear society. 
 How long have I awaited this great pleasure, 
 This lovely cohort of w T ell-mannered witches. 
 The naked nymphs in boldness far excelling; 
 And this old comrade, spectral death, repulsive 
 Unto the sons of earth, doth parody 
 Stern virtue. Greetings, all ; a pity 'tis, 
 That I may not with you in gossiping 
 Here pass the night. (The apparitions vanish.) 
 
 Up, Tancred! thy beloved 
 
 Has closed her window. Why stand we in the night? 
 The breeze is chill, and thy reward will be, 
 The gout. Besides, Helen will soon be here, 
 And what then can I do? Methinks the devil 
 May never fall in love and make himself 
 Ridiculous forever, less'ning thus 
 His power. 'Tis marvelous that thus, mankind 
 With burning, with intense desire, doth yearn 
 For love, yet reapeth sorrow ; but the devil 
 Alone with icy heart is able, thus, 
 In time, from all to extricate himself. 
 
 ADAM. 
 
 Ah! bear me, Lucifer, to a new life. 
 For holy aims I have endured the strife, 
 
THE TRAGEDY 110 
 
 OF MAN 
 
 And curses found, of misconceptions born; 
 And for the glory of our God what scorn 
 They're burning men alive! Oh, how I tried 
 For men, enjoyments nobler to provide; 
 To which, howe'er, they ruthless applied 
 The stamp. " This is a sin." I planted deep 
 The love of knightly virtues, tried to keep 
 The standard high. Ah! she herself applied 
 The deadly poniard, and my love has died. 
 Away from here, away! Let me be hurled 
 Into a new, into another world. 
 I've proven well my worth, and shown that I 
 Could bravely fight, and could myself deny 
 That which was dear to me. I'm not ashamed 
 To leave the place which I so boldly claimed. 
 Naught more in me, shall inspiration's glow 
 Again arouse. Let all things come and go; 
 The earth roll on, be it for woe or weal, 
 I shall not try to regulate its wheel. 
 Indifferently I'll look on, nor care 
 For aught; so let repose be now my share. 
 
 LUCIFEB. 
 
 Then take thy rest, but I can scarce believe 
 Thy spirit's restless force will grant reprieve 
 For long, and strife again will conquer thee 
 In thy repose. Come, Adam, follow me! 
 
Ill THE TRAGEDY 
 
 OP MAN 
 
 SCENE VII. 
 
 (Prague. The garden of the imperial palace. To the 
 right, a lower; to the left, an observatory, in 
 front of which is a broad, low window, with 
 Kepler's writing desk. Chairs and astronomical 
 appliances. Lucifer, as Kepler's famulus on the 
 podium. Courtiers and ladies walking about in 
 groups in the garden, among them Eve, as Bar- 
 bara, Kepler's wife. The Emperor Rudolph is in 
 earnest conversation with Adam, as Kepler. In 
 the distance a burning stake, at which a heretic 
 is being put to death. Evening; later, night. 
 Two courtiers pass in the foreground.) 
 
 FIEST COURTIER. 
 Who's warming yonder, heretic or witch? 
 
 SECOND COURTIER. 
 
 I do not know. No longer 'tis the mode 
 To take the interest we erstwhile felt. 
 The commonfolk alone now gather 'round 
 The stake, but not e'en they because of joy ; 
 They only look, and murmur to themselves. 
 
 FIRST COURTIER. 
 
 In my time, such events were festivals, 
 And all the court and the nobility, 
 The edifying spectacle would view. (Exeunt.) 
 
 LUCIFER. 
 
 A fire on this cool ev'ning 's not amiss, 
 And quite a while it has been burning, too ; 
 But yet, I fear, there be strong likelihood 
 
THE TRAGEDY 112 
 
 OF MAN 
 
 That it will die, extinguished, not by new 
 
 And manly principles ; there being none 
 
 In their indifference to feed the flame 
 
 With but a log; so I must freeze. Slight causes 
 
 Must e'er affect the fall of one great thought. 
 
 (Enters the tower.) 
 (Rudolph and Adam stepping to the foreground.) 
 
 RUDOLPH. 
 
 Now Kepler, cast my horoscope. Last night 
 I had an evil dream, and anxious wait, 
 To know in what conjunction stands my star. 
 Misfortunes in the court rose in the past. 
 There, by the Serpent's head. 
 
 ADAM. 
 
 Thou'lt see, my Lord. 
 That which thou dost command will be obeyed. 
 
 RUDOLPH. 
 
 When once the day's climacteric are o'er, 
 We'll start anew the work which we began ; 
 The work which unsuccessful now remains. 
 But I have been reading Hermes Trismagistus, 
 Synesius, Albertus, Paracelsus ; 
 The Key of Solomon, and other works. 
 I think I know where the mistake was made ; 
 When we did heat the black tellurium, 
 The raven and red lion did appear; 
 And then the duplex mercury developed. 
 From the conjunction of the planets twin, 
 Descended in the sediment the stone 
 Of the philosophers. But then, we lacked 
 The liquid fire, and the dry water, too; 
 S<* did not gain the glorious result: 
 
113 THE TRAGEDY 
 
 OF MAN 
 
 The holy marriage, which into the veins 
 
 Of age, pours youth, and purest gold can make 
 
 From metal base. 
 
 ADAM. 
 I comprehend you, Sire. 
 
 RUDOLPH. 
 
 Now, one word more! Evil reports of thee, 
 Are circulating in the court, that thou 
 To the new doctrines, hast attached thyself; 
 The deeds of Holy Church dost criticise. 
 Now, while thy mother, as an odious witch, 
 In prison, 'iieath the weightiest accusation 
 Lies, thou too, and justly, art suspected ; 
 So obstinate and unremitting, thou 
 Dost strive to gain her freedom. 
 
 ADAM. 
 
 Royal Lord, 
 Most certain 'tis, I am her son. 
 
 RUDOLPH. 
 
 My son, 
 
 The Holy Church, a truer mother is, 
 This world is good enough, just let it be; 
 Do not attempt to make it o'er again. 
 Have I not heaped upon thee honors great? 
 Thy father was the landlord of an inn; 
 But thy nobility, beyond all doubt 
 I placed, though surely 'twas no easy task ; 
 I raised thee to my throne ; gave thee a chance 
 To win the hand of lovely Barbara Miiller, 
 And hence I say, be vigilant, my son. 
 
 (Exit.) 
 
THE TRAGEDY 114 
 
 OF MAN 
 
 (Adam, lost in thought, stands oy the stairway, lead- 
 ing to his podium. Two courtiers come for- 
 ward. ) 
 
 THIBD COURTIER. 
 
 See, how absorbed is the astronomer! 
 
 FOURTH COURTIER. 
 
 'Tis jealousy doth ever torture him. 
 Poor fellow! it is evident that he 
 Cannot adapt himself to his new station, 
 But still betrays his peasant origin. 
 
 THIRD COURTIER. 
 
 And he cannot conceive, that a true knight, 
 While worshiping a woman, only sees 
 A goddess pure, for whom he'd gladly die; 
 If slander e'er so lightly touched her name, 
 His bosom waxeth warm in her defense. 
 
 (EVE With another group, meeting the courtiers, 
 laughingly taps the second courtier on the shoul- 
 der with her fan.) 
 
 Sir Knight, thou art a wag. Do cease thy jesting ; 
 I'll laugh myself to death at thy droll speech. 
 See of those two, th' exceeding serious air. 
 Then has th' accursed spirit of reform 
 Descended o'er you, too? Out of my sight! 
 For I cannot endure the sight of men 
 Who so begrudge us this bright, peaceful world, 
 And must create a new one of their own. 
 
 THIRD COURTIER. 
 
 Sweet dame, this change cannot apply to us: 
 Wfco'd wish for change in such society? 
 
115 THE TRAGEDY 
 
 OF MAN 
 
 FIRST COUBTIEB. 
 
 If I do not mistake, there is a man. 
 Upon whose face is stamped this sign of gloom. 
 
 EVE. 
 
 My husband, he, poor man? Oh, gentlemen, 
 For God's sake, in my presence, let him be, 
 From all suspicion free, for I to him 
 Am pledged, by the most holy tie. He's ill, 
 'Tis certain, very ill. 
 
 SECOND COUBTIER. 
 'Tis not surprising; 
 He fell a victim to thy lustrous eyes. 
 
 THIRD COURTIER. 
 
 Indeed! That which none other dares, does he 
 Too jealously suspect his wife? I swear 
 I'd happy be, if I could, as thy knight, 
 The gauntlet throwing, challenge him to combat. 
 
 (By this time they reach Adam.) 
 Ah! Master, 'tis good fortune that we meet. 
 I wish to journey to my country seat, 
 And fain would have the weather prophecies. 
 
 FIRST COURTIER. 
 
 And for my son, I'd have thee read the stars; 
 Last night, past midnight, to the world he came. 
 
 ADAM. 
 To-morrow morn, Sirs, both will be prepared. 
 
 FOURTH COURTIER. 
 The company depart; let us go, too. 
 
THE TRAGEDY 116 
 
 OF MAN 
 
 THIRD COURTIER. 
 
 Here is the stairway, I bid thee good-night. 
 (Whispering.) An hour from now. 
 
 EVE (Whispering.) 
 
 The bower at the right. 
 
 (Aloud) 
 
 Good-night to all of you. Come, my dear John. 
 
 (All go; Adam and Eve on the podium; Adam 
 throws himself into a large armchair; Eve stands 
 before him. It grows darker and darker.) 
 
 EVE. 
 I need some money, John. 
 
 ADAM. 
 
 Hast thou not drawn 
 Already, all I had? 
 
 EVE. 
 
 Must I then e'er, 
 From poverty, be made a sufferer? 
 The ladies of the court resplendent are, 
 As peacocks gay, while I must feel ashamed, 
 Before them to appear; and when sometimes 
 A courtier, before me, bowing low, 
 Doth smiling call me queen among the fair, 
 I must feel shame for him who thus to court 
 Doth send his queen. 
 
 ADAM. 
 
 Do I not day and night, 
 My learning market, but for thee? foretell 
 The weather's course, and e'en besmirch myself 
 By reading horoscopes, the truth deny, 
 Proclaiming that which well I know is false? 
 
117 THE TRAGEDY 
 
 OF MAN 
 
 And I must blush, for worse have I become, 
 Thau were the sybils, who at least believed 
 Their prophecies, while I do not believe. 
 And yet, I do this for thy sake alone; 
 To please but thee, do I receive the wage 
 Of sin. Naught do I want, beneath the sky, 
 Except the mystic music of the spheres; 
 The rest is thine. The emperor is poor, 
 But when I importune him, he will pay, 
 And that which on the morrow I receive 
 Is thine. But, wife, I notice with regret, 
 That thou ungrateful art. 
 
 EVE (Weeping.) 
 Dost thou forget, 
 
 While boasting of thy sacrifice, that I 
 Have sacrificed for thee, a great deal more? 
 Thy rank was doubtful, but my own was high; 
 But e'en this difference, I did o'erlook, 
 And married thee, enabling thee thereby, 
 To rise. Deny, then, ingrate, if thou can'st, 
 All this. 
 
 ADAM. 
 
 Is knowledge then of doubtful rank? 
 Doubtful, the ray which from high heaven descends 
 Upon my brow? Is aught more noble then, 
 Than this? That which ye designate as noble, 
 A dying idol is, which soon will fall ; 
 But my nobility will live for aye, 
 The heir of strength and of eternal youth. 
 Ah! woman, if thou could'st but understand; 
 A kindred soul had'st thou, as pure and grand 
 As I believed, when I the first kiss gave 
 To thee, ah! then, thou would'st be proud of me, 
 And would'st not seek, thy happiness to find, 
 
THE TRAGEDY 118 
 
 OF MAN 
 
 Elsewhere than in my heart, where thou'rt enshrined ; 
 Thou would'st not give thy sweetness to the world, 
 And to thy hearthstone all the bitterness. 
 Oh ! woman ! boundless was my love for thee ; 
 I love thee even now, though to despair 
 I'm driven by the bitter in the sweet 
 Of this love's honeycomb. It pains my heart, 
 To know how noble could thy soul have been, 
 Most womanly of women, a true queen, 
 Did fate not ruthless intervene. 'Tis true; 
 Now, woman is a toy divinity, 
 Where knighthood her, as a fair goddess knew ; 
 But then) 'twas a great age the knights believed 
 In womanhood. To-day a pigmy race 
 No one believes ; and this idolatry 
 Is but a cloak for foul iniquities. 
 I'd grant thee a divorce, tear out my heart, 
 Ah! though it would pain I'd bravely do my part; 
 I would submit, if thou but happy wert ; 
 But there's the well-established rule and law, 
 The church, which holds us in her iron grasp, 
 And we till death, each other must endure. 
 (Rests his head in his hands. Eve gently pats his 
 head.) 
 
 EVE. 
 
 No, my dear John! Subdue, I pray, thy grief. 
 If now and then I say some things that hurt, 
 I do not give thee sorrow, wittingly ; 
 You see, peculiar are they at the court; 
 The dames so proud and scornful, mock and jeer, f 
 And shall I set myself against them all? 
 There is no anger, now between us, is there? 
 Good-night! The money don't forget, at morn. 
 
 (Goes down the stairs into the garden.) 
 
119 THE TRAGEDY 
 
 OF MAN 
 
 ADAM. 
 
 What strange commingling of evil and of good, 
 Of honey and of venom woman is ; 
 Most wonderful! and why does she attract? 
 Because the good in her, is of herself. 
 The evil of the age that gave her birth. 
 Hey, famulus! 
 
 (Lucifer enters, with a lamp, which he places on the 
 table.) 
 
 LUCIFER. 
 Dost thou command, my master? 
 
 ADAM. 
 
 The weather prophecies, and horoscope 
 Of birth, I need. Prepare them speedily. 
 
 LUCIFER. 
 
 Of course, one must be fair, the other bright ; 
 For who wants for his money, homely birth? 
 
 ADAM. 
 But still, not to improbability. 
 
 LUCIFER. 
 
 Such things, as would a parent scandalize, 
 I never could invent. A new Messiah 
 Is not each newborn child? a shining star 
 On the horizon of the family rising, 
 But later, to a scamp developing? (Writes.) 
 
 (Eve has come to the bower. The third courtier 
 meets her.) 
 
 THIRD COURTIER. 
 'Tis cruel, thus to let me languish here. 
 
THE TRAGEDY 120 
 
 OF MAN 
 
 EVE. 
 
 Perhaps too great, the sacrifice may be, 
 T' endure the chill nightwind, while I deceive 
 A noble spouse, and to the curse of Heaven, 
 And censure of the world, expose myself. 
 
 COUBTIEB. 
 
 Ah! Heaven's curse, the censure of the world, 
 Rule not, within this dark and hidden bower. 
 
 ADAM (musing.) 
 
 I sought an age, wherein there was no strife ; 
 Wherein the beaten path of social order, 
 And sacred judgment were by none disturbed 
 That I might find repose, with guileless joy 
 And healing, for the wounds of warfare long. 
 'Tis here; but what avails it, if the soul 
 Still live, this holy immortality 
 Of pain, which, foolish man, as heritage 
 From Heaven hath received; which longs for action, 
 Giving no repose, but rising e'er 
 To combat slothful lust. Hey ! bring me wine 
 My famulus! for 'tis a frosty earth, 
 And I must warm it. In this puny age, 
 In this wise, must we call forth inspiration, 
 That from corrupted clay we may escape. 
 (Lucifer brings wine. Adam drinks until the close of 
 
 the scene.) 
 
 Unfold ! unfold ! O boundless Heaven on high, 
 The leaves of thy mysterious book, that I 
 Of thy laws, here and there, may find a trace, 
 While I forget all things of time and space. 
 Thou art eternal ; transitory they ; 
 Tlmu raises!, while they drag the earthward way. 
 
121 THE TRAGEDY 
 
 OF MAN 
 
 COUBTIEB. 
 
 Oh, Barbara! if thou could'st be my own! 
 If God would call thy spouse unto himself, 
 Into that Heaven, which he doth know so well, 
 And which to know, his whole life he has toiled. 
 
 EVE. 
 
 Be silent, knight! So great my sorrow were, 
 That for my tears, I could not even kiss thee. 
 
 COUBTIEB. 
 Thou'rt jesting. 
 
 EVE. 
 I am speaking but the truth. 
 
 COUBTIEB. 
 
 Who comprehends this enigmatic mood? 
 Oh! Barbara! certain 'tis, thou lov'st me not; 
 Or say, if exile were to be my lot, 
 If poor, what would'st thou do, to prove thy faith? 
 
 EVE. 
 Most certainly, I cannot tell that now. 
 
 ADAM. 
 
 Oh! will there come a time, which shall dissolve 
 This cold indifference, therefrom evolve 
 New energies, look boldly in the face 
 Of all this antiquated rubbish base, 
 To judge and to reward, to onward press, 
 Nor fearing dreadful means, dare to express 
 The hidden thought, which will its course pursue 
 Like some great avalanche, the prophet too 
 To crush, who first did utter it! I hear, 
 
THE TRAGEDY 122 
 
 OF MAN 
 
 (The strains of the Marseillaise are heard.) 
 I hear the song of future days, so clear, 
 That powerful talisman, that will efface 
 The earth's decrepitude, renew the race. 
 
 SCENE IX. 
 
 (The scene changes suddenly to the Place de Greve 
 in Paris. The balcony is transformed into a 
 guillotine-podium; the writing desk into a guillo- 
 tine, at the side of which sits Lucifer, as hang- 
 man. Adam as Danton, speaks from the end of 
 the balcony to the noisy crowd below. Amidst 
 the beating of a drum <a very ragged crowd of 
 recruits take their position about the stand. 
 Bright day.) 
 
 ADAM ( Continuing. ) 
 Freedom, equality, fraternity ! 
 
 THE CROWD BELOW. 
 Death unto him who does not recognize them! 
 
 ADAM. 
 
 Thus say I, too Two words alone, have saved 
 The great idea, threatened on all sides. 
 Unto the true, we say but this : " The land 
 In peril is," and they awake; we thunder 
 Unto the wicked, one word " Tremble ! " they fall. 
 The kings 'gainst us did rise ; to them, we threw 
 Our sovereign's head; and when the clergy rose, 
 Wrenching their fulminations from their hands, 
 We placed upon her throne, long persecuted 
 
123 THE TRAGEDY 
 
 OF MAN 
 
 Reason. But the second call, our country 
 Sends unto the true, dies not away. 
 Eleven regiments now on the confines 
 Fight; and constantly, our valiant youth 
 Are pressing forward, the fallen heroes, thus 
 Replacing. Who can say, bloodthirsty fury 
 Will decimate the nation? If hot the metal, 
 The dross falls off, the nobler part remains. 
 What matter if bloodthirsty now we be, 
 As monsters may they even look upon us, 
 If but the land be great and free? 
 
 RECRUITS. 
 Weapons ! 
 Give us but weapons, and a generall 
 
 ADAM. 
 
 How brave ! And yet your further needs alarm 
 All patriots ; your clothes in rags, and bare 
 Your feet, but willing, all these needs to suffer, 
 With bayonets you'll gain great victories, 
 And all you need ; for you will win ; the people 
 Are invincible. On the guillotine 
 An army leader's blood was seen to flow, 
 For he allowed himself to be defeated. 
 
 THE PEOPLE. 
 A traitor he! 
 
 ADAM. 
 
 Well said! We all agree. 
 No other treasure has the populace 
 Than their blood, which they magnanimously, 
 Prodigally shed for fatherland. 
 And who this richest treasure 'neath the sun 
 
THE TRAGEDY 124 
 
 OF MAN 
 
 Commands, and fails to conquer all the world, 
 A dastard mean, or traitor base must be. 
 
 (An officer steps forth from among the recruits.) 
 
 OFFICER. 
 
 In place of "him, to lead, is my great aim, 
 Name me, Danton, and I'll wipe out the shame. 
 
 ADAM. 
 
 My friend, praiseworthy is thy confidence; 
 But an assurance that thou keep'st thy word, 
 Before the soldiers, on the field, I ask. 
 
 OFFICER. 
 
 Assurance of success, lies in my soul ; 
 And have I not a head, which may, at least 
 Achieve as much, as that which just did roll 
 Into the dust? 
 
 ADAM. 
 
 And who doth guarantee, 
 Thou'lt bring that head to me, to satisfy 
 The law? 
 
 OFFICER. 
 
 What better hostage dost thou need 
 Than my own life, which I thus hold for naught? 
 
 ADAM. 
 Not so do the recruits consider it. 
 
 OFFICER. 
 Once more, I do implore thee, citizen! 
 
 ADAM. 
 Wfcit patiently ! thou yet wilt reach the goal. 
 
125 THE TRAGEDY 
 
 OF MAN 
 
 OFFICEB. 
 
 Thou hast no confidence? Well, will thy soul 
 Then, citizen, think better of me now? 
 
 (Shoots himself in the head and dies.) 
 
 ADAM. 
 
 A pity 'tis ; for he deserved the bullet 
 Of the foe. Remove the corpse. My friends, 
 Farewell, until the victory be won. 
 
 (The recruits go away.) 
 
 But could I share your fate! The strife is mine; 
 No glorious death at hand of enemy ; 
 But envy and intrigue in ambush lie, 
 Like to a thief, to cause my death, and that 
 Of their own sacred home. 
 
 CROWD OF PEOPLE. 
 Whom dost thou dread! 
 Name him, and he shall be no more. 
 
 ADAM. 
 
 The one 
 Whom I could name, is now among the dead. 
 
 CBOWD OF PEOPLE. 
 
 And who are the suspected? Certain, 'tis 
 They guilty are; the people never errs. 
 Down, down, with the aristocrats! Come, come! 
 Let's to the jails, and there in judgment sit! 
 Our judgment is the people's sacred law. 
 
 (The crowd starts toward the jail.) 
 
 ADAM. 
 The danger lies not there! Strong are the bolts, 
 
THE TRAGEDY 126 
 
 OF MAN 
 
 And foul the air, which kills and stupefies, 
 Dethrones the reason ; these are your allies ; 
 We'll leave them to their fate. With head erect, 
 Bold treason stalks, the while it whets the knife, 
 E'en there upon the benches of the Convention. 
 
 CEOWD. 
 
 Then off to the Convention! for not yet 
 Have they been sifted well ; but first, the jails 
 And the Convention later. In the meantime 
 Make thou a list of traitors' names, Danton! 
 (The crowd departs, threatening on the way. In the 
 meantime, several Sansculottes bring a young 
 Marquis and Eve, as his sister, in front of the 
 stand. ) 
 
 A SANSCULOTTE. 
 
 Two young merry aristocrats again we bring; 
 Their haughty mien and linen fine, proclaim 
 Their guilt 
 
 ADAM. 
 
 And what a noble pair it is! 
 Come nearer, though, to me. 
 
 SANSCULOTTE. 
 Now, let us go, 
 
 Where labor waits us, and a deadly blow 
 To traitors we will give. 
 
 (The Sansculottes with the rest of the people go 
 away. The two young people go upon the bal- 
 cony, around which a few guards are watching.) 
 
 ADAM. 
 
 What secret force 
 
 Draws me to you? I'll save you both, although 
 My risk is great. 
 
127 THE TRAGEDY 
 
 OF MAN 
 
 THE MARQUIS. 
 Danton, if guilty we, 
 To save us were an act of treachery ; 
 If innocent we are, we have no need 
 Of thy vain mercy. 
 
 ADAM. 
 
 Who art thou, that thus 
 Thou darest to Danton to speak? 
 
 THE MARQUIS. 
 Marquis 
 Am I. 
 
 ADAM. 
 
 Stop! Stop! dost thou not know that now, 
 There is no rank but that of citizen? 
 
 MARQUIS. 
 
 I had not heard, that titles, by my king 
 Had been abolished. 
 
 ADAM. 
 
 Thou wretch, do not proceed! 
 Our army enter, and thy way is clear. 
 
 MARQUIS. 
 
 I have not from my king the leave procured, 
 To enter foreign ranks. 
 
 ADAM. 
 Then thou must die! 
 
 MARQUIS. 
 
 One more then, of my race, will for his king 
 Have gone to death. 
 
THE TRAGEDY 128 
 
 OF MAN 
 
 ADAM. 
 
 Why dost so recklessly 
 Rush to thy death? 
 
 MARQUIS. 
 
 And dost thou think that life 
 To sacrifice, is but the privilege 
 Of you, men of the people? 
 
 ADAM. 
 
 Barest thou? 
 
 I, too, will dare. E'en 'gainst thy will, thee free 
 I'll make; and for this act, a coming day, 
 When party passion holds no longer sway, 
 Will show me gratitude. Come, national guards, 
 To my own dwelling take him, and be ye 
 Hostages for him. 
 
 (Some armed national guardsmen lead the Marquis 
 away. ) 
 
 EVE. 
 Be strong, my brother! 
 
 MARQUIS. 
 God bless thee, sister! (Exit.) 
 
 EVE. 
 
 Here ! Take my head also, not meaner 'tis 
 Than Roland's. 
 
 ADAM. 
 
 Believe, it doth pain mine ear 
 From gentle lips, such language harsh to hear. 
 
 EVE. 
 rentier speech would fit the guillotine! 
 
129 THE TRAGEDY 
 
 OF MAN 
 
 ADAM. 
 
 This terrible machine is my own realm ; 
 But with thy coming 'tis as if of Heaven, 
 Thou'dst left a trace, that in its sanctity, 
 Enshrines me now. 
 
 EVE. 
 
 Ne'er did the priests deride 
 Thus on their way, the beasts of sacrifice. 
 
 ADAM. 
 
 The sacrifice, believe me, is myself. 
 Believe me, power and pelf, all are but sham. 
 Bereft of joy ; I live and death defy, 
 All envy this, my kingly seat on high. 
 I clearly see, how each hour of the day, 
 My friends and foes, the penalty of life 
 Must pay, and wait my turn. Ah ! I confess, 
 'Mid all this blood, a certain loneliness 
 I feel ; it saddens me. I cannot crush 
 The thought, how sweet it were, could I but love. 
 Oh! woman, could'st thou teach me, just one day, 
 The heavenly science, peacefully, the next 
 My own head I would lay beneath the knife. 
 
 EVE. 
 
 For love thou yearnest, in these awful days? 
 And doth thy conscience not affright thee? 
 
 ADAM. 
 
 Conscience 
 
 Is but of low born men, the privilege ; 
 But he whose life is given as a pledge 
 To fate, against its voice his heart must close, 
 For when does tempest cease, because a rose 
 
THE TRAGEDY 130 
 
 OF MAN 
 
 Droops in its path? Who'd dare to be so bold 
 
 As criticise the men who shape and mould 
 
 Their age? Who can descry the silken thread, 
 
 By which upon the stage of life are led 
 
 A Brutus and a Catalina ! Then, 
 
 Is there one, who can believe that when 
 
 A man achieves a name, he is no more 
 
 A man, with tastes and habits as before 
 
 He famous grew, and that he can resign 
 
 The hundred cares, life 'bout him doth entwine? 
 
 Oh, no ! believe it not ; for must a heart 
 
 Throb, e'en in him who plays a royal part. 
 
 If mighty Caesar had a sweetheart fair, 
 
 To her, he was but a kind youth, and ne'er 
 
 Would she e'en have suspected that the world 
 
 At his command, its battle flags unfurled. 
 
 If this be so, tell me, why could'st thou not 
 
 Love me? To be a woman, is thy lot: 
 
 To be a man is mine. 
 
 The heart, 't is said 
 
 Will love or hate ; by innate feeling led 
 
 I feel affinity, sweet maid, to thee. 
 
 Dost, woman, thou, not understand this plea? 
 
 EVE. 
 
 And if I did, what use? Another God 
 Guides thee, than he in whose straight path I've trod. 
 Thy soul and mine, I feel, could ne'er agree. 
 
 ADAM. 
 
 Then cast aside ideas obsolete, 
 Why sacrifice to Gods exiled, effete? 
 One altar only is for woman fit, 
 Whidi ever young remains, that is the heart. 
 
131 THE TRAGEDY 
 
 OF MAN 
 
 EVE. 
 
 The desolated altar, too, has martyrs, 
 Danton ! To watch o'er ruins with devotion 
 Is more sublime than welcoming new powers ; 
 And this doth best beseem a woman's sphere. 
 
 ADAM. 
 
 Not one has ever seen me moved, before, 
 
 If friend or enemy could see him now, 
 
 Who wields the lash of fate, like to the tempest, 
 
 To purify the world, here on this scaffold 
 
 Loving a little maid, and shedding tears, 
 
 He'd prophesy the downfall of Danton ; 
 
 They'd jeer and henceforth none would fear him, still 
 
 I beg of thee, one ray of hope. 
 
 EVE. 
 
 Some time, 
 
 When there beyond the tomb, once reconciled 
 Thy soul puts off the gory dust of time, 
 
 Perchance 
 
 ADAM. 
 
 Cease, maiden! say no more, for I 
 Believe not in that world above, and hopeless, 
 With my fate, forever must contend. 
 (The mob returns in a fury with several gory heads 
 on their swords, some get upon the balcony.) 
 
 ONE OF THE PEOPLE. 
 We've sentenced them ; what a proud set they were. 
 
 A SANSCULOTTE (giving Danton a ring.) 
 Take thou this ring, for the nation's corner stone. 
 One of the wretches placed it in my hand, 
 
THE TRAGEDY 132 
 
 OF MAN 
 
 As to his throat, I held the knife. This set 
 Take us for robbers. What! thou livest still? 
 Go, join thy brother! 
 
 (Strikes Eve, who falls down, at the back of the 
 scaffold.) 
 
 ADAM (covering his eyes.) 
 Horrors, it is over ! 
 O fate, who can defy thee! 
 
 THE MOB. 
 Citizen ! 
 
 Lead on, to the Convention! Now, the names 
 Of traitors, hast thou? 
 
 (The moo leave the scaffold. Eve as a ragged, ex- 
 cited woman of the people, disengages herself 
 from the crowd, and with a dagger in one hand, 
 a gory head in the other, rushes up to Danton.) 
 
 EVE. 
 
 See, Danton, the traitor! 
 Thee would he have killed, but I killed him. 
 
 ADAM. 
 
 If in this place, he better would have stood, 
 Thou hast done ill ; if not, thy deed was well. 
 
 EVE. 
 
 My deed was well, so my reward I claim. 
 Spend but one night with me, thou mighty man! 
 
 ADAM. 
 
 What kind of sympathy, in such a beast 
 Can dwell? What tenderness within the tigress? 
 
133 THE TRAGEDY 
 
 OF MAN 
 
 EVE. 
 
 In truth, it seemeth, citizen, that thou 
 Art leagued with the blue-blood aristocrats, 
 Or in delirium, ravest of romance. 
 Thou art a man, a woman, I, and young, 
 And admiration seizes me, great man. 
 
 ADAM ( aside. ) 
 
 I shudder, through and through; mine eyes can see 
 No more, this frightful image. What marvelous 
 Resemblance! He who once hath known an angel, 
 And seen him, fallen, has viewed perhaps, a sight 
 Like this ; the features, form and speech ; all, all ; 
 But that something infinitesimal, 
 Which cannot be described, is lacking, all 
 Thus rendering dissimilar ; the one, 
 By a halo shielded, I could not possess ; 
 But this one, with foul breath of hell, to me 
 Is loathsome. 
 
 EVE. 
 What is it thou art muttering? 
 
 ADAM. 
 
 I've reckoned, woman, there are more traitors here 
 Than I have nights. 
 
 THE MOB. 
 
 To the Convention, now! 
 
 Where is the list of traitors' names which thou 
 Hast promised! 
 
 (In the meantime Robespierre, Saint-Just and other 
 members of the Convention, come with another 
 crowd and take their places upon an improvised 
 platform.) 
 
THE TRAGEDY 134 
 
 OF MAN 
 
 SAINT-JUST. 
 Name the chief offender. 
 
 (Murmuring among the crowd.) 
 
 ADAM. 
 
 Dar'st 
 Saint- Just accuse? Dost thou not know my power? 
 
 SAINT-JUST. 
 
 Thou hast had power, but in the people 'twas ; 
 But they are wise, and having learned thee now, 
 Will the Convention's judgments authorize. 
 
 ADAM. 
 
 I know no power above me, save the power 
 Which from the people comes ; and they, I know, 
 Are friends. 
 
 (Murmuring again heard among the crowd.) 
 
 SAINT-JUST. 
 
 The country's enemy is this 
 Your friend. The mighty people then, shall judge 
 
 thee. 
 
 Before them, I accuse you, as betrayer 
 Of our land, and public plunderer; 
 Of sympathy with the aristocrats, 
 And the ambition of a tyrant's sway. 
 
 ADAM. 
 
 Beware, Saint- Just, of my own f ulminations ! 
 Thou dost accuse me falsely. 
 
 ROBESPIERRE. 
 Let him not speak! 
 
 Ye know, his tongue is wily as a serpent's ; 
 But seize him, in the name of liberty! 
 
135 THE TRAGEDY 
 
 OF MAN 
 
 THE MOB. 
 Let us no longer listen! Away with him! 
 
 ADAM. 
 
 Then hear me not ; and neither will I hear 
 This accusation, for we cannot strive 
 With words, and e'en your deeds, o'ercome me not; 
 Thou dost anticipate me, Robespierre ; 
 Thy only merit 'tis for I myself 
 Lay down my arms. It is enough ; but this 
 I cry to thee; within three months, thou, too, 
 Wilt tread this path. Hangman, do well thy work! 
 For 'tis a giant which thou now dost fell. 
 
 (He places his head beneath the guillotine.) 
 
 SCENE X. 
 
 (The scene is suddenly transformed into that of 
 Scene VIII. Adam again as Kepler with his 
 head leaning upon his writing table. Lucifer as 
 his famulus, standing beside him, taps him on 
 the shoulder. Gray daivn.) 
 
 LUCIFEE. 
 This time, there will be no beheading. 
 
 ADAM. 
 
 Where 
 Am I, and where, my dreams? 
 
 LUCIFEB. 
 
 They've taken flight, 
 With thy inebriation, master mine. 
 
THE TRAGEDY 136 
 
 OF MAN 
 
 ADAM. 
 
 So in this sordid age, the hoary head 
 Save by intoxication's power, can naught 
 Achieve! What mighty scene before mine eyes 
 Unrolled! And blind is he who can not see 
 The spark divine, even beneath its cloak 
 Of blood and mire. Colossal was the sin 
 As was the virtue, each one admirable 
 For power its impress left thereon. Oh! why 
 Did I awake? That I might look around me 
 To know still better, this dwarfed age; its sins 
 Concealed, its virtue hypocritical, 
 Beneath its smiling lineaments' guise. 
 
 LUCIFEB. 
 
 Well do I know, that feeling of depression 
 After intoxication following. 
 
 EVE (Coming out of the bower.) 
 Away from me, away! not wrongfully 
 Did I suspect thee. Dar'st thou speak to me, 
 My husband's murderer? Think'st capable 
 Of such foul deeds, her, whom thou lying call'st 
 Thy heart's ideal? 
 
 COUETIEE. 
 
 For God's sake, dear, be calm! 
 If overheard, a scandal will ensue. 
 
 ADAM. 
 
 Were those two women only in my dreams? 
 What do I say? One woman in two forms, 
 As variable as my changeful fate, 
 Like to the wave, now shimmering, now dark. 
 
137 THE TRAGEDY 
 
 OF MAN 
 
 EVE. 
 
 Ah ! so to thee, is scandal all : To thee, 
 What brooks the sin, which is in secret done, 
 Thou blameless knight? Alas! ye look with scorn 
 Upon a woman, till she throws aside 
 As prejudice her ancient heritage 
 Of virtue; then, with your contemptuous smiles, 
 Ye hold her but the vile tool of your sins. 
 Away from me! I will not see thee more. 
 
 COUBTIEB. 
 
 This also is extreme, making ourselves 
 Objects of ridicule, if thus we paint 
 In festal tomes, this ev'ry day affair. 
 And we shall meet too, even after this. 
 Whate'er may come of it, no word shall e'er 
 Be spoken. Good-morning, Madam! 
 
 (Exit.) 
 
 EVE. 
 
 Wretched man! 
 And here I stand, with all my tears and sin! 
 
 (Exit.) 
 
 ADAM. 
 
 Well, it was but a dream, and all is o'er, 
 But no, not all ! for daily, stronger grow 
 Ideas than all matter was before. 
 Matter can be felled by a forceful blow, 
 While my ideas live forevermore. 
 Forever purified, surely, and slow, 
 Till all the world be filled by their lore. 
 
 LUCIFEE. 
 
 The day advances, fast; impatient now 
 
THE TRAGEDY 138 
 
 OF MAN 
 
 The crowd of students for the master wait, 
 To glean the words of wisdom from his lips. 
 
 (The bell sounds from the tower.) 
 
 ADAM. 
 
 Oh! jeer not, jest not, at my learning mean! 
 For I must blush, if 'tis for this they praise me. 
 
 LUCIFEB. 
 Dost not instruct these many splendid youths? 
 
 ADAM. 
 
 Instruct them, do I not, but only train them 
 By words they do not understand ; which have 
 No meaning, and no purport in them : so 
 Th' unreasoning admire, and credence give. 
 With these fine words too, spirits we conjure ; 
 But it is all finesse, the jugglery 
 To hide. 
 
 A STUDENT (Hastens to the podium.) 
 So gracious wast thou, master, thus 
 To call me to thee, promising my thirst 
 For learning thou would'st satisfy, that I 
 Might gain a deeper insight than all others. 
 
 ADAM. 
 
 But certainly thy diligence and zeal, 
 Thee render worthy of this privilege. 
 
 STUDENT. 
 
 Well, here I am, with trembling soul, I long 
 Great nature's workshop to investigate; 
 To grasp it all, enjoy more than the throng; 
 To gain the well-earned right to dominate 
 The realm of matter, and the spirit world. 
 
139 THE TRAGEDY 
 
 OF MAN 
 
 ADAM. 
 
 Much thou desir'st. An atom of the world, 
 Thou think'st to pierce its grand entirety. 
 Sov'reignty thou wilt, and wisdom too. 
 If all of this thou could'st achieve, thy soul 
 Not bend, beneath the weight, thou would'st become 
 A God. Then less desire; thou may'st attain it. 
 
 STUDENT. 
 
 Whatever problem then, of science, thou 
 Dost solve, great man, will be a gain to me. 
 I feel that nothing do I know. 
 
 ADAM. 
 
 Tis well then; 
 
 Thou art worthy; with thee, I can speak, 
 Of holy and most hidden things, the truth! 
 Then see, as I myself; but let there be 
 No uninitiated listener; 
 For truth is terrible, and bringeth death, 
 If it among the people of this age 
 Should come; but Oh! a time is near; if here 
 It were! when in the streets, it will be spoken 
 Free. No longer will the people then 
 Be children. Give thy hand in token now, 
 That thou wilt not betray that which thou learn'st 
 Of me. Well, listen then. 
 
 STUDENT. 
 
 With awe and longing, 
 Now I thrill. 
 
 ADAM. 
 
 What did'st thou say to me 
 Before, my son? 
 
THE TRAGEDY 140 
 
 OF MAN 
 
 STUDENT. 
 
 That nothing in its essence, 
 Do I know. 
 
 ADAM (Cautiously.) 
 
 See now, nor yet do I. 
 Philosophy is but the poetry 
 Of that, which we can never grasp, but is 
 Most harmless of all learning in the world ; 
 Adorned with her chimeras, quietly, 
 She entertains herself. But sciences 
 There are, which with bold front, upon the sands 
 Do trace their lines, to represent abysses; 
 And the circle is a sanctuary. 
 At this comedy, thou could'st e'en laugh 
 To view the frightful earnestness and art 
 Of all of it, while everyone with trembling 
 And with soul oppressed, seeks to avoid 
 These sketches in the sand, still here and there. 
 A snare doth wait, and the audacious one 
 Who falls therein, must pay the price of blood. 
 Such is th' absurdity, thou see'st, that stands 
 Now in our path as holy piety 
 To shield th' established power. 
 
 STUDENT. 
 
 I comprehend. 
 But will it always be as now? 
 
 ADAM. 
 
 A time 
 
 Will come, when they will laugh at all those statesmen 
 Whom we consider great; the orthodox, 
 Whom we admire, will furnish comedy 
 For our posterity, when real greatness 
 
141 THE TRAGEDY 
 
 OF MAN 
 
 Doth occupy his place. 'Twill be the simple, 
 
 Natural, which springs, where e'er a pit 
 
 Is seen, and makes a path, where space is found; 
 
 And the learning, which to madness leads, 
 
 With its abstruseness now, by ev'ry one 
 
 Will then be understood, though learned by none. 
 
 STUDENT. 
 
 Then this must be th' elucidating language, 
 Which the apostles once were wont to speak, 
 And if all else be mean and worthless plunder, 
 Oh ! do not take from me, my faith in art, 
 But in her laws, instruct me. 
 
 ADAM. 
 
 Art's perfection 
 Consists in its concealment. 
 
 STUDENT. 
 
 Can truth then, 
 Stand alone? For 'tis idealism 
 That gives the soul to art. 
 
 ADAM. 
 
 'Tis true, indeed; 
 
 With its own spirit, nature must combine 
 In equal measure, creation to mature; 
 Without this, 'tis a lifeless mechanism. 
 But howsoe'er thou may'st idealize, 
 Think not to overreach great nature's power. 
 Leave laws and models, for he in whom is strength, 
 In whom God lives, will speak, will mould, or sing, 
 With sobs heartrending, when his soul is sad, 
 With smiles when bliss hath stilled his passion's 
 storm. 
 
THE TRAGEDY 142 
 
 OF MAN 
 
 And though a pathway new he will create, 
 He'll surely reach the goal and form new laws 
 In the domain of art; but the abstract, 
 To dwarfs becomes but fetters, never wings. 
 
 STUDENT. 
 
 Oh! tell me, master, what I now can do, 
 After so many nights, to learning given? 
 Am I become like to a fool, and vain 
 Has all my striving been? 
 
 ADAM. 
 
 'Tis not in vain. 
 
 'Tis this, gives thee the right to overthrow 
 Each flaw, for he who looks not in the face 
 Of loss, e'en as he doth advance, is but 
 A coward; but the tried warrior is free 
 To step aside from his antagonist; 
 For of his valor, there can 'rise no doubt. 
 So to the flames, consign these yellow parchments, 
 These folios voluminous, with mould 
 Bedecked; they hinder when one would walk alone; 
 Of thought too meager, the errors of the past, 
 In judgment of the future, do they bring. 
 Then to the flames with them! Out to the fields! 
 For why of songs and forests should'st thou learn, 
 Joyless, 'mid dusty walls, till life is done? 
 Is life so long to thee, that until death 
 Thou can'st learn theories? Together then, 
 We'll bid farewell to schools; thou onward led 
 By roseate youth, to joyous rays of sunshine, 
 And to singing. Guide, doubtful genius 
 To that new world, which will unfold, when once 
 Some great one, its ideals shall divine, 
 
143 THE TRAGEDY 
 
 OF MAN 
 
 And clothe in speech, the hidden thought that lies 
 Deep 'neath th' accurs'd dust of fallen ruins. 
 
 SCENE XI. 
 
 (London. Market place between the Tower and the 
 Thames. A motley crowd surging about and 
 murmuring. Adam as an elderly man, stands 
 with Lucifer upon one of the bastions of the 
 Tower. Time, toward evening.) 
 
 CHORUS (Floating upward, with the noise of the 
 
 crowd, accompanied by soft music.) 
 Hear the roar of billows, 
 On life's stormy sea! 
 Each wave, a new world 
 Of its own, dost see. 
 Why should'st thou make moan, 
 If one disappear? 
 And if one rise higher, 
 Then why should'st thou fear? 
 Fearest thou, each one, 
 May in the common fate, 
 Be drowned, or a strong leader 
 Millions annihilate? 
 To-day 'tis poetry, 
 Facts, next-day, dost learn; 
 Thirst for knowledge follows, 
 Fancy's dreamy turn. 
 Seek'st, into a system, 
 T' encompass all the sea? 
 Efforts all are futile, 
 None change fate's decree. 
 
THE TRAGEDY 144 
 
 OF MAN 
 
 Ay! this mighty ocean, 
 Rolls f orevermore ; 
 Laughs and rolleth onward. 
 Let him rush and roar, 
 Roar! for life hath limits; 
 Roar then, loud and long! 
 The new is but the old; 
 So hear the magic song! 
 
 ADAM. 
 
 'Tis this! 'tis this, for which I ever yearned, 
 But e'er a labyrinth, has been my life. 
 Towards its busy scenes, at last I've turned ; 
 How sweet, inspiring, is its song of strife! 
 
 LUCIFER. 
 
 Like hymns sung in a temple, beautiful 
 When in the distance heard, or from the height, 
 Hoarse voice, with sigh and moan, how wonderful! 
 Do with the tuneful swelling sounds unite; 
 And what we hear is an harmonious whole, 
 That fills the heart and stirs the yearning soul 
 And God doth hear it, deeming all well done, 
 The world created and placed 'neath the sun; 
 But did we listen to the song more close, 
 Instead of harmony, would hear but woes ; 
 Of throbbing hearts would hear the pulses beat 
 Such is the song thou thinkest here so sweet. 
 
 ADAM. 
 
 Thou art a scoffing doubting man. Confess! 
 Is this not a more beauteous world, ah! yes, 
 Than all those worlds, through which I have been 
 
 made, 
 The mouldy barriers are now decayed ; 
 
145 THE TRAGEDY 
 
 OF MAN 
 
 Gone are the frightful ghosts of former days, 
 O'er which the past to overawe the rays 
 Of glorious haloes blandished, to deceive, 
 But proved a curse. Made man afraid to live. 
 The strife is free to all. To-day, no slaves 
 Build pyramids. 
 
 LUCIFEB. 
 
 In Egypt, had not waves 
 Of lamentious' sounds been heard, if we 
 Had stood as high as now? And thou'lt agree, 
 Without these shrieks, the achievements were sub- 
 lime. 
 
 And then in Athens, did not in that time 
 Simply because in danger might have been 
 The fatherland the people in their might, 
 Most gloriously act? Calm and serene 
 They took their foremost son, their bravest knight, 
 And sacrificed his life. And we must view 
 The things from a great height, which we must do. 
 Uninfluenced by woman's tears, and all 
 Considerations, puerile and small. 
 
 ADAM. 
 Eternal sophist, cease! 
 
 LUCIFER. 
 
 If woe be dead, 
 
 Are not all things insipid, now instead? 
 Where's the sublime that filleth us with awe? 
 The depths away from which we trembling draw? 
 And our lives, manifold vicissitudes? 
 No longer, ocean waves of mighty force, 
 Our lives, but frog ponds ; filled with foul exudes. 
 
THE TRAGEDY 146 
 
 OF MAN 
 
 ADAM. 
 
 But then, thou find'st indemnity, of course, 
 In the prevailing weal? 
 
 LUCIFEE. 
 
 That life of toil 
 Thou judgest, which 'neath thy feet doth endless 
 
 turmoil 
 
 From thy own seat of observation high, 
 Just as the past is judged by history 
 It heareth not the hoarse, dull tones of woe, 
 It but records the song of long ago. 
 
 ADAM. 
 
 Ah! e'en Satan sentimentalizes, 
 Or as doctrinaire philosophizes, 
 Both acquisitions. 
 
 LUCIFEE (Pointing to tower.) 
 
 But no wonder 'tis, 
 Amid these ruins of past centuries. 
 
 ADAM. 
 
 This mouldy observation point, detest 
 I too, and I descend with hopeful breast, 
 To find among the waves of that new world, 
 Poetry and ideals most sublime. 
 It may well be their flag is not unfurled 
 In a gigantic war of Titan time, 
 As it was once before, but I may find 
 Their influence the greater o'er mankind, 
 As great as in my dreams I e'er divined. 
 
147 THE TRAGEDY 
 
 OF MAN 
 
 LUCIFER. 
 
 Be not afraid, for it were vain to fear. 
 As long as matter hath existence here, 
 So long will I, the spirit which denies, 
 My power exert; as long as thought vivifies 
 The human brain; as long as heart of man 
 Shall throb ; as long as law says, " This ye can, 
 And that ye cannot do," why, just so long 
 'T will live on, as negation, both in song 
 And lofty aims. But to descend there, say 
 What form shall we assume. Up here to stay 
 This garb alone is fit. 
 
 ADAM. 
 
 What e'er you want. 
 
 For naught's conspicuous there, depend upon 't. 
 (Both go into the tower, and soon emerge from be* 
 low, dressed as laborers, and enter the crowd. 
 A puppet-show is near by; the proprietor stands 
 in front, holding a chain in hand, to which a 
 monkey, dressed in a red coat, is attached.) 
 
 THE PUNCH AND JUDY MAN. 
 Come, gentlemen ; come gentlemen, this way ! 
 The great show will commence now, right away. 
 It is a mightily amusing play : 
 The snake leads Eve the first woman astray, 
 For woman was, e'en in that ancient day. 
 Inquisitive and never would obey. 
 You can see here, in gentleman's array, 
 A monkey, who with dignity doth play 
 The r61e of some great man, and then you may 
 A bear as dancing master see! Oh, say, 
 It's splendid fun! Come gentlemen, this way! 
 
 (Crowd around the booth.) 
 
THE TRAGEDY 148 
 
 OF MAN 
 
 LUCIFER. 
 
 Oh ! Adam, 'pon my word, they speak of us : 
 I think 'tis fine, though almost fabulous, 
 To be so famed, that after all this run 
 Of full six thousand years, we furnish fun 
 For pleasure-seeking youth. 
 
 ADAM. 
 
 But I want none 
 Of all those senseless jokes. Go on, go on ! 
 
 LUCIFER. 
 
 These senseless jokes? But just look at those boys; 
 How each and every one of them enjoys 
 The sight, although but a short while ago, 
 At school, down o'er their Nepos bending low, 
 They almost fell asleep. Who knows who's right? 
 He who, in consciousness of strength, to life 
 Doth wake, or he for whom doth end the strife? 
 Dost from thy Shakespeare, ever gain such joys 
 As these mean caricatures bring to these boys? 
 
 ADAM. 
 And these are just exactly what I hate. 
 
 LUCIFER. 
 
 It clings to thee from Greece, of ancient date. 
 See! I, who am the child, or, if you w r ill, 
 The father of all this romanticism 
 For we spirits any role can fill 
 I take delight in this droll witticism. 
 In these burlesques there is the real sport. 
 A human face is of the monkey sort. 
 We see the dirt flung at the truly great; 
 
149 THE TRAGEDY 
 
 OF MAN 
 
 Distorted sentiments in dress of state; 
 
 A trumpet sings of chastity ; the low and mean 
 
 Is praised, and love, by an old rake; 
 
 So I forget my own realm lost has been, 
 
 And in a new form, a new life I make. 
 
 THE PUNCH AND JUDY MAN. 
 
 (Slapping Adam on the shoulder.) 
 Why do ye occupy, here the best place? 
 I read, fine bird, in thy old wizened face 
 Thou'st fond of fun which costs thee not a cent 
 But find someone, who on self hanging's bent. 
 (Adam and Lucifer stand aside, a little girl comes 
 along, selling violets.) 
 
 LITTLE GIBL. 
 
 Sweet violets, first messenger of spring! 
 Buy violets! They to the orphan bring 
 Her daily bread, and ornament the poor. 
 
 A MOTHEB (Buying violets.) 
 Here, give me some, to place in my dead child's hand. 
 
 A GIRL (Also buying.) 
 For my dark hair, the best adornment, sure. 
 
 LITTLE GIBL. 
 Sweet violets, the sweetest in the land! 
 
 A JEWELER (In his booth.) 
 
 Why must this weed, (we can't from fashion drive), 
 Ever compete with us? The pearly bead 
 Is for a beauteous neck more fit, indeed. 
 To bring it from the sea, a man will dive, 
 And brave the perils of the deep. 
 
 (Two Burgher maidens come.) 
 
THE TRAGEDY 150 
 
 OF MAN 
 
 FlBST BUBGHEB MAID. 
 
 Oh, my! 
 What lovely jewels. 
 
 SECOND BUBGHEB MAID. 
 
 Were there one, to buy 
 For each of us, a gift! 
 
 FIBST BUBGHEB MAID. 
 Men of to-day 
 
 Who presents make, expect one to repay, 
 And at an awful price. 
 
 SECOND BUBGHEB MAID. 
 
 The modern man 
 
 Has no taste, e'en for that. The courtesan 
 And caviar, have spoiled him. 
 
 FIBST BUBGHEB MAID. 
 
 Us they greet 
 No more; from shyness, or from vain conceit. 
 
 (Exeunt.) 
 
 (A garden; drinks are served to people sitting at 
 table. Laborers, soldiers and citizens. Music 
 and dancing.) 
 
 INNKEEPEB (Among his guests.) 
 Good cheer, my friends, for yesterday is flown, 
 To-morrow we shall never see, 
 'Tis God, who nourishes the birds, and "all," 
 The Bible saith, " is vanity." 
 
 LUCIFEB. 
 
 'Tis this philosophy that pleases me. 
 Let's sit here, on this shaded bench, and see 
 
151 THE TRAGEDY 
 
 OF MAN 
 
 The crowd enjoy themselves, so cheap and fine, 
 With music that is poor, and sour, bad wine. 
 
 FIBST WOBKMAN (At one of the tables.) 
 I say, the devil those machines did make, 
 They from our mouths the bread and butter take. 
 
 SECOND WORKMAN. 
 
 If wine remain, we can forget with ease. 
 The rich themselves the devils are; they squeeze 
 E'en our last drop of blood. Oh! were one here 
 Just now, to hell I'd send him without fear, 
 For we need more examples like the last. 
 
 THIKD WORKMAN. 
 What would'st thou gain thereby? When all were 
 
 past, 
 To hang; and we, still to our fate succumb. 
 
 SECOND WORKMAN. 
 
 Nonsense! for he shall sit here, if he come, 
 And we shall see who can be liberal ! 
 
 INNKEEPER (To Adam.) 
 What can I bring for you? 
 
 ADAM. 
 
 Nothing at all. 
 
 INNKEEPER. 
 
 Then go! or dost thou think that wine and meal 
 I give away? that I my money steal, 
 Or wife and child allow, to beggary 
 To come? 
 
THE TRAGEDY 152 
 
 OF MAN 
 
 ADAM (Rising.) 
 Thou darest thus to speak to me? 
 
 LUCIFER (Breaking in.) 
 Let go the clodgate! 
 
 ADAM. 
 
 Well then, let us go. 
 Why contemplate proud man, now sunk so low ! 
 
 LUCIFER (Passing a dive.) 
 
 At last I've found, that which so long I've sought! 
 Now here, we can enjoy, constrained by naught. 
 This boisterousness, laughter, hellish noise ; 
 These piercing cries of bacchanalian joys, 
 Bring roseate red into the pallid face 
 And meanest misery of sin to place 
 In gilded garb. This is a sight to praise. 
 
 ADAM. 
 
 To me, it horror and disgust conveys. 
 (In the meantime, they have approached the dancers. 
 Two beggars come along, fighting.) 
 
 FIRST BEGGAR. 
 This is my place; my license, here it is. 
 
 SECOND BEGGAR. 
 
 Be merciful, for our dear Christ's sake, please! 
 Or I must starve, for this last week or two. 
 I've not been able one hour's work to do. 
 
 FIRST BEGGAR. 
 
 Then thou art not a beggar genuine. 
 Move on! I'll give that officer a sign. 
 
 (Exit Second Beggar. The first takes his place.) 
 
153 THE TRAGEDY 
 
 OF MAN 
 
 By the five wounds of Christ, give alms, I pray 
 Sweet gentlemen! 
 
 (A soldier takes from the arms of an artisan a girl, 
 with whom lie is dancing.) 
 
 SOLDIER. 
 
 Peasant, stand back I say! 
 Thou think'st thou'rt somebody, when I'm around? 
 
 ABTISAN. 
 
 Indeed, if I should knock thee to the ground, 
 I would be somebody. 
 
 SECOND ARTISAN. 
 
 For God's sake don't 
 
 Fight here; just yield to him, depend upon 't. 
 The soldier has the glory and the power. 
 
 FIRST ARTISAN. 
 
 Then why can't he behave? I'd like to scour 
 His head for him, and him some manners teach. 
 The soldier is but a bloodthirsty leech. 
 
 A COURTESAN (Singing.) 
 In olden times, the golden apple, 
 E'en from the dragon, did they wrest; 
 The apples still are ripening, 
 Though dragons long have been at rest. 
 A blockhead's he, who doth look and look, 
 Without the courage of them to pluck. 
 
 (Embracing a youth at a table.) 
 
 LUCIFER. 
 
 (Absorbed in contemplation of the pair.) 
 I like coquetry, which I here behold, 
 
THE TRAGEDY 154 
 
 OF MAN 
 
 Let those who treasures have, just show their gold. 
 The iron trunks of misers might contain 
 Instead of gold, a worthless iron chain. 
 How touching is the jealousy that boor 
 Displays! He seeks the eyes of his amour; 
 He knoweth how to prize the moment's charms. 
 To-morrow some one else within her arms 
 She'll hold. 
 
 ADAM (To one of the musicians.) 
 Tell me, man, how dost hold thine art! 
 Is love for music, then, not in thy heart? 
 
 MUSICIAN. 
 
 Indeed, I have no love for it; and more, 
 I play all day the selfsame tunes. The roar 
 Of all this noise doth make me sick and sore 
 At heart. Yet, while my calling I abhor 
 I play to live; for nothing else I'm fit. 
 
 LUCIFEE. 
 
 Thoughtful philosophy, I must admit, 
 The fickle maid, light-hearted though she be, 
 Displays. She knows 'tis not the last one she 
 Will have, and e'en in her embraces now, 
 She has picked out the next one, I would vow. 
 My precious children, at sight of your joy, 
 I feel a happiness, without alloy, 
 To see how smilingly ye work for me 
 My blessing will be guilt and misery. 
 
 SECOND ARTISAN (Singing.) 
 He whose week's labor is done, 
 And with a pure heart, doth quaff 
 
155 THE TRAGEDY 
 
 OF MAN 
 
 His wine, 'mid kisses and song, 
 
 In the devil's face can laugh. 
 
 (The closing chords of the music from a church are 
 heard. Eve as a burgher maiden, with prayer- 
 book and nosegay in hand, comes out of the 
 church with her mother.) 
 
 A PEDDLEB. 
 
 Come this way, dear miss! Here at my stand, 
 You may buy cheaper than in all the land. 
 
 ANOTHEB PEDDLEB. 
 
 Believe him not ! short is his weight ; his ware 
 Is second-hand. Come over here. I swear 
 I have the best. 
 
 ADAM. 
 
 Ah! See, thou in this place 
 Iniquitous dost hold me, while such grace, 
 Almost unnoticed, near us passes by. 
 
 LTTCIFEB. 
 
 And what of that, what does it signify? 
 That's nothing new. 
 
 ADAM. 
 
 How sweet! She must have been 
 At church. 
 
 LTJCIFEB. 
 Mayhap to see, and to be seen. 
 
 ADAM. 
 
 This jeer is cold; let it not touch the maid; 
 For with devotion she her prayers hath said. 
 
 LUCIFEB. 
 Converted then, I see, and from the heart? 
 
THE TRAGEDY 156 
 
 OF MAN 
 
 ADAM. 
 
 A stupid jest! But list, I for my part 
 May feel however cold; 'tis my affair; 
 But I insist, that for the woman's share, 
 That certain predilection, I admire; 
 That music of past times, that holy fire ; 
 Th' untouched enamel of the flower. 
 
 LUCIFEB. 
 
 But where 
 
 Dost see this strip of Heaven? The devil ne'er 
 Can'st thou expect, continually to guess 
 Thy taste, and know just whom thou would'st pos- 
 
 Enough, that I supply her on demand. 
 
 ADAM. 
 
 That maiden yonder wilt thou understand? 
 Where else she could be my goal of happiness? 
 
 LUCIFEB. 
 
 The popinjay doth just such thought express, 
 When he a worm in his sharp bill doth press ; 
 In all the world, there is no finer bite. 
 Yet to the dove, the worm's a loathsome sight. 
 So will a man, his own salvation find 
 Where,r it may be, his own neighbor's mind, 
 Could find but hell. 
 
 ADAM. 
 
 What dignity! and air, 
 So modest, that t' approach, I scarcely dare. 
 
 LUCIFEB. 
 
 Take courage ! Thou with women ne'er dost fail ; 
 If we heed well, she too will be for sale. 
 
157 THE TRAGEDY 
 
 OF MAN 
 
 ADAM. 
 Silence ! 
 
 LUCIFEB. 
 
 Perhaps far dearer than the rest. 
 (A youth approaches Eve very modestly and offers 
 her a heart made of sweet cake.) 
 
 THE YOUTH (To Eve.) 
 
 I pray thee, grant me just this one request; 
 Allow me to present to you this heart. 
 
 EVE. 
 Thus to remember me, how kind thou art. 
 
 THE MOTHEE. 
 
 'Tis long since we have seen thee; why dost thou 
 No longer visit us? 
 
 (Eve and the youth converse in whispers. Adam 
 grows excited. The youth goes away.) 
 
 ADAM. 
 
 Thou may avow, 
 
 This beardless youth, that which my heart in vain 
 Doth feel. What confidence! she smiles! What 
 
 pain, 
 What pain I must endure! I must speak to her. 
 
 THE MOTHEB (To Eve.) 
 His family is rich, and I concur 
 In this thy choice, but then we do not know 
 What think his family ; so do not throw 
 His rival overboard, who just to-day 
 Did so surprise thee with that lovely nosegay. 
 
THE TRAGEDY 158 
 
 OF MAN 
 
 ADAM. 
 
 Allow me ladies, to escort you home, 
 That from the crowd no harm to you may come. 
 
 EVE. 
 What impudence! 
 
 THE MOTHEB. 
 
 Out of my sight, thou churl! 
 Or dost thou think, she is the sort of girl 
 To whom most any one can say sweet things? 
 
 ADAM. 
 
 How could one otherwise? To me she brings 
 The vision of ideal woman fair. 
 
 THE MOTHER. 
 
 Just dream ahead! but I shall take good care 
 That he for whom my daughter's charms shall bloom 
 Will be no good-for-naught. Thou dost presume. 
 (Adam stands hesitatingly. A gypsy woman steps 
 up to Eve.) 
 
 GYPSY WOMAN. 
 
 Ah! sweetest of the sweet, fairest of the fair! 
 Show me your tiny, snowy hand ; I'll dare 
 To read from it, with my mysterious lore, 
 The thousand blessings your fate has in store. 
 
 (Reads her hand.) 
 
 A handsome groom elect, not far away, 
 Is waiting; ah! these very lines betray, 
 You will have wealth and health, and show that you 
 Some day, will have a lot of children too. 
 
 (Receives money.) 
 
 LUCIFEB (Pointing to Adam.) 
 Here sister, read my comrade's horoscope. 
 
159 THE TRAGEDY 
 
 OF MAN 
 
 GYPSY WOMAN. 
 
 (Looks hurriedly at Adam's hand.) 
 It is not clear. He'll starve, or hangman's rope 
 His fate. 
 
 ADAM (To Eve.) 
 Do not repel me, sweetest maid! 
 I feel our hearts were for each other made. 
 
 EVE. 
 Mother, permit him not! 
 
 MOTHEB. 
 
 The guards I'll call 
 If you don't go away. 
 
 EVE. 
 
 Well, after all 
 He meant no harm. Come, mother let us go. 
 
 (Exeunt.) 
 
 ADAM. 
 
 O holy poesy, art flown? Doth grow 
 The world prosaic now? 
 
 LUCIFER. 
 
 What dost thou say? 
 This dance, this bower, that sweet cake and that 
 
 nosegay ; 
 
 What else are they? Be not so fidgety, 
 There's still material for 
 Romances. 
 
 ADAM. 
 
 What avails it, if lurk greed 
 Around, and never one unselfish deed? 
 
THE TRAGEDY 160 
 
 OF MAN 
 
 LUCIFEB. 
 
 E'en that may still be found among school-boys, 
 Whose lives are not yet wrecked by griefs and joys ; 
 In whom all life is husbanded, as yet. 
 Here comes just now, some of that jolly set. 
 
 (Some students enter.) 
 
 FIRST STUDENT. 
 
 Well, boys, we've left the mouldy school behind, 
 And now we can some real pleasure find. 
 
 SECOND STUDENT. 
 
 Let's go into the field oh ! how I hate 
 The barriers within the city's gate. 
 
 THIED STUDENT. 
 
 Let us, with some one now, begin a fight. 
 To give and take a blow, is man's delight. 
 
 FIBST STUDENT. 
 
 Let's from the soldiers steal their girls away, 
 And instantly there will be an affray ; 
 Then with the girls out to the gardens go ; 
 Enough have we for ale; till eve we'll know 
 The life of dukes, while near a rosy face. 
 
 FOURTH STUDENT. 
 How glorious! to tease Philistines base. 
 
 FIRST STUDENT. 
 
 Thus strengthening the bond that makes us one. 
 Let us enjoy ourselves, when our work's done. 
 If need be, once some great thought will inspire. 
 And us endue with patriotic fire. 
 
 (Exeunt.) 
 
161 THE TRAGEDY 
 
 OF MAN 
 
 ADAM. 
 
 In this stale world, it is a splendid sight, 
 I see therein the germ of a future bright. 
 
 LUCIFEB. 
 
 And from this germ, we'll see what once will grow, 
 When sown in schools, for every one must know. 
 These manufacturers who come this way 
 Were just like these, when school-boys, in their day. 
 (Two manufacturers in conversation come along.) 
 
 FIBST MANUFACTURER. 
 No, sir, I can't compete. I must reduce 
 The prices of the goods, and introduce 
 Adulterated wares. 
 
 SECOND MANUFACTURER. 
 
 But, my dear sir, 
 Reduce the wages of the laborer. 
 
 FIRST MANUFACTURER. 
 
 E'en now, rebellion, and complaint abounds, 
 They say they can no longer live, the hounds! 
 In part, their plaints are justified, of course, 
 But then, who doth upon them marriage force, 
 And who doth ever say that they, ere long, 
 Shall have six children's mouths to feed. 'Tis 
 wrong. 
 
 SECOND MANUFACTURER. 
 
 Well then, still harder must they work ; they might 
 Be forced to work for us half through the night 
 The other half would be enough for sleep, 
 
THE TRAGEDY 162 
 
 OF MAN 
 
 And dreams that are not good for them, would keep 
 Away. 
 
 (Exeunt.) 
 ADAM. 
 
 To hear these things doth make one's brain to whirl ; 
 But tell me, where is she that beauteous girl? 
 Come Lucifer, by this thy power can'st prove, 
 That she with favor look upon my love. 
 
 LUCIFEK. 
 
 I do not waste my power on paltry things. 
 
 ADAM. 
 
 What's small to thee, to me such blessing brings 
 As the whole world could not outweigh. 
 
 LUCIFEB. 
 
 'Tis done. 
 
 Do not permit thy sentiments to run 
 Amuck. If need be, fear not to deceive; 
 But answer me, and she is thine. (Aloud, that the 
 gypsy woman listening behind them may 
 overhear. ) 
 Perceive 
 
 My Lord, this traveling incognito. 
 Has drawbacks, and if people here could know, 
 That our four ships from India, to-day 
 Cast anchor here, in quite a different way, 
 We'd be received. 
 
 ADAM. 
 Perhaps. 
 
 GYPSY WOMAN (Aside.) 
 
 Ah ! with delight 
 I'M turn this to account, with all my might. 
 
163 THE TRAGEDY 
 
 OF MAN 
 
 (To Adam.) One word, I pray, sir. 'Twas in jest, 
 
 that I 
 
 For you, an awful fate did prophecy. 
 To punish you; but to you now I'll show 
 That I well knew of your incognito. 
 The secrets of all men to me are known; 
 Let me confess ; I am the devil's own. 
 
 LUCIFER (Aside.) 
 You are? Well, I want no such dirty hag. 
 
 GYPSY WOMAN. 
 
 Your ships will come to-day, floating your flag. 
 Still better news, a sweet maid's heart, I know 
 In yearning love, for you is all aglow. 
 
 ADAM. 
 How can I win her? 
 
 GYPSY WOMAN. 
 She's as good as yours. 
 
 ADAM. 
 But she has repulsed me. 
 
 GYPSY WOMAN. 
 That insures 
 
 A most successful suit. Well, you will see, 
 She'll soon be here. Think of my prophecy. 
 
 (Exit.) 
 ADAM. 
 Aha! The hag has left thee far behind. 
 
 LUCIFEB. 
 
 I'll not deny her merits, for I find 
 
THE TRAGEDY 164 
 
 OF MAN 
 
 An able substitute. 
 
 (A mountebank comes upon a hand cart. Blare of 
 trumpets. Crowd gathers about him. Takes pos- 
 session of center of stage.) 
 
 MOUNTEBANK. 
 Make room for me ! 
 
 Greet me with awe, because in me ye see 
 A famous man! My head has hoary grown 
 In studying, that nature's secrets known 
 Might be, to me. 
 
 ADAM. 
 Who is this lunatic? 
 
 LUCIFEB. 
 
 Science descends, it must a living seek,: 
 Into a mountebank, just as when thou 
 Wast dabbling; but more noise is needed now. 
 
 ADAM. 
 
 But practiced not my schemes to that degree 
 Shame on him! 
 
 LUCIFEB. 
 
 Surely not at fault is he, 
 For he doth only strive, that fate t' avert 
 Which on his tombstone these words might insert: 
 " Ex gratia speciali, 
 Mortuus in hospitali " 
 For others, sacrificing night and day 
 He only asks what's justly due: his pay. 
 
 MOUNTEBANK. 
 
 My whole life long, I for mankind. 
 Have sacrificed, and ever sought to find 
 Life's true elixir, and to penetrate 
 
165 THE TRAGEDY 
 
 OF MAN 
 
 All secrets of our nature great. 
 This, many thousand years ago, 
 Was used by the great Pharaoh; 
 This magic potion Tancred used, 
 Into him, heroes' blood infused; 
 From beautiful Helene of Greece, 
 I learned to make this beauty grease, 
 What men expect, and what men hope, 
 I tell by Kepler's horoscope. 
 
 ADAM. 
 See'st what he sells? We thought the day would 
 
 dawn 
 
 In future times, while he has boldly drawn 
 Upon the past, and claims he's found the light. 
 
 LUCIFEB. 
 
 The present never is esteemed aright; 
 To the " to-day," respect is never shown ; 
 Just as a great man never has been known, 
 In dressing gown ; of this " to-day " in life 
 As after a decade married to a wife, 
 Her flaws are known. 
 
 MOUNTEBANK. 
 A blessing they bestow, 
 Buy, buy! there ne'er was such a chance, I know. 
 
 FROM THE CROWD. 
 
 Here! let me have some of your famous wares! 
 Their price is high, but still, one gladly spares 
 The money, if so efficacious they. 
 
 LUCIFEE. 
 
 Ho! See! the people disbelieve, convey 
 Howe'er to them, what is miraculous, 
 
THE TRAGEDY 166 
 
 OF MAN 
 
 They quickly spend on it their overplus. 
 (Eve and her mother return. The gypsy woman fol- 
 lows, whispering to them.) 
 
 EVE. 
 Thou talk'st in vain ; we know thee. 
 
 GYPSY WOMAN. 
 If not true, 
 
 Be that which I tell thee, I'm lost. With you 
 That gentleman is so enamored, now 
 His mistress he would make of you ; allow 
 That you as a duchess drive with coach-and-four 
 To theatre and ball, and still much more. 
 
 THE MOTHER. 
 
 Viewed from the right side, after all, such life 
 Is better than bear hardships of a wife 
 In some bootmaker's dingy pitch-stained shop. 
 
 GYPSY WOMAN. 
 
 Look ! there he stands ; it seems, that there he'll stop 
 Until he finds you hereabouts. 
 
 EVE. 
 
 He ought 
 
 If it be true, that he but me has sought 
 To look this way. He like a gentleman 
 Doth bear himself, his hands are fine. 
 
 THE MOTHER. 
 
 I can 
 
 In his companion even, good points find, 
 Although his nose be of the crooked kind ; 
 And though he's lame, he seems respectable. 
 
167 THE TRAGEDY 
 
 OF MAN 
 
 My daughter, I'll retire, more practicable 
 'Tis, to leave you two alone. 
 
 GYPSY WOMAN. 
 
 Just see ! 
 The beauty has returned, and sighs for thee. 
 
 ADAM. 
 I'll fly to her O ecstacy ! 
 
 GYPSY WOMAN. 
 
 The pay 
 Remember ! 
 
 LUCIFEB (Giving her money.) 
 I thus to thee my thanks convey ; 
 My comrade gives the money. 
 
 GYPSY WOMAN (Shrieks.) 
 Ugh! what a vice. 
 
 LUCIFER. 
 
 But thou would'st think thyself in paradise, 
 If thou, old jade, wert what thou claim'st to be. 
 
 EVE (To Adam.) 
 
 If you would buy a market gift for me, 
 There's a cosmetic that has caught my eye. 
 
 ADAM. 
 
 Nothing on earth could e'er so beautify, 
 As those sweet charms thy woman's face doth wear; 
 For that cosmetic is without a peer. 
 (The mountebank has gone away during the mean- 
 time.) 
 
 EVE. 
 You are too kind, sir. 
 
THE TRAGEDY 168 
 
 OP MAN 
 
 ADAM. 
 
 Don't put me to sharne, 
 Diamonds to give tliee is my aim, 
 Not that with them, thy beauteous neck and hair 
 Be ornamented to appear more fair; 
 But just because they never could have shone 
 Upon a lovelier or a worthier one. 
 
 EVE. 
 
 I saw a jeweler quite near, but no ! 
 For me, poor maid, they suit not well, I know. 
 
 ADAM. 
 Come, let us look at them. 
 
 LUCIFER. 
 
 'Tis useless, see ! 
 
 Some splendid ones I chance to have with me. 
 (Gives jewels to Eve, who examines them joyfully 
 and tries them on.) 
 
 EVE. 
 How lovely ! How they'll envy me ! 
 
 ADAM. 
 
 That heart 
 I would not see it more. 
 
 EVE. 
 With it, I'll part. 
 
 (Throws it away.) 
 
 LUCIFEB. 
 I'll crush the heart, that can not even sigh. 
 
 (Tramples upon it.) 
 
169 THE TRAGEDY 
 
 OF MAN 
 
 EVE. 
 
 What's that! I thought I heard a piercing cry? 
 (During this time a convict, sentenced to death, is 
 seen taken to the gallows and followed by a big 
 crowd. ) 
 
 ONE OF THE CROWD. 
 
 Come quick ! I told you it would be a sight ; 
 The coward is not even now contrite. 
 
 ADAM. 
 What is this crowd, with changing cheer and jeer? 
 
 EVE. 
 
 They hang a man ; I'm glad that I am here. 
 Let us go too, exciting is the sight, 
 My jewels I can show with great delight. 
 
 ADAM. 
 What was the wretch's crime? 
 
 EVE. 
 I do not know. 
 
 LUCIFEB. 
 
 It matters not, I will relate it though ; 
 
 In Lovell's factory, he long did work, 
 
 But poison ever in the lead doth lurk ; 
 
 And once, inhaling it with ev'ry breath, 
 
 He ill became, and lay nigh unto death 
 
 For weeks in the hospital, and then distress 
 
 Came to his lovely wife, and you can guess 
 
 The sequel when I tell jou Lovell's son, 
 
 Was young and kind of heart, and she was won. 
 
THE TRAGEDY 170 
 
 OF MAN 
 
 FIRST LABOEEB. 
 
 Comrade, be brave! thou die'st a martyr's death; 
 Thy name eternal fame encountereth. 
 
 LUCIFEB. 
 
 The husband then, recovering, his wife 
 His place, both lost, there came a bitter strife : 
 With soul enraged, to Lovell he made threat ; 
 Young Lovell with a blow, the insult met, 
 Then into him, the culprit plunged a knife ; 
 So here he pays the penalty his life. 
 Old Lovell has become insane. 
 (As these words are spoken the insane Lovell enters.) 
 
 LOVELL. 
 
 You lie! 
 
 You lie ! for not at all insane am I ; 
 If so, could I distinctly understand 
 The faintly whispering voice of reprimand 
 That sounds from my son's wound? All I possess 
 I'd freely give away, could I suppress 
 This power to hear. I'd rather be insane. 
 
 THIBD WORKMAN. 
 Fear naught! Thou shalt not unavenged remain. 
 
 FIRST WORKMAN. 
 They are the culprits, thou art in the right. 
 
 ADAM. 
 
 Thou dost appall me, brain congealing sight! 
 But who can tell, who here is more to blame? 
 Perhaps society! Well, more's the shame 
 Where that's decayed, luxuriates all vice. 
 
171 THE TRAGEDY 
 
 OF MAN 
 
 LOVELL. 
 
 'Tis true ! Society ! Ah ! you are wise, 
 All I possess is yours ; but pray, do break 
 That whisp'ring spell which keepeth me awake. 
 
 EVE. 
 Let's go, let's go! or no place shall we find. 
 
 ADAM. 
 
 I bless thee fate, that to me wast so kind ; 
 That for a judge thou hast not chosen me, 
 Stretched on a couch, how easy it must be, 
 Laws to create; but difficult the art 
 To judge with understanding, the human heart. 
 
 LTTCIFEB. 
 
 But with such views, law-suits would never end. 
 None choose the wrong, because 'tis wrong; defend 
 E'en devils, their own acts by argument. 
 The Gordian knot must by the judge be rent; 
 Philanthropists by thousands e'en could not 
 Untie the tangled threads thereof, I wot. 
 (By this time they have arrived at the Tower, at one 
 corner of which, in a niche, stands a holy image.) 
 
 EVE. 
 
 Will you, my friend, here but one moment stay, 
 That at this shrine, an " ave " I may say? 
 And place this nosegay on the cross. 
 
 LUCIFEB ( Whispering. ) 
 
 No, no! 
 Permit it not, or great will be our woe. 
 
THE TRAGEDY 172 
 
 OF MAN 
 
 EVE. 
 
 E'er since my childhood's days, I at this shrine 
 
 My prayers have said to Him, good Saviour mine; 
 
 And after that I always feel so good; 
 
 The time we lose, we'll make up in the wood. 
 
 (She takes the nosegay and puts it on the 
 cross, ~but the flowers suddenly wither and 
 fall; the precious stones roll down from 
 her neck and arms, turning into snakes.) 
 
 What's this? 
 
 LUCIFER. 
 I warned in vain! 
 
 EVE. 
 Help! 
 
 ADAM. 
 
 Not so loud! 
 
 Pray do not scream, you will attract the crowd; 
 And gems a thousand fold more costly, I 
 Will give to thee. 
 
 EVE. 
 
 Begone, I say! Mercy. 
 Two jugglers and a witch, in devil's pay, 
 A pure and honest maid have led astray. 
 (The people begin to gather. The gypsy 'woman 
 comes with police officers.) 
 
 GYPSY WOMAN. 
 
 They must be here, that counterfeiting band; 
 Quicksilver like, it melted in my hand, 
 The coin they gave me. 
 
173 THE TRAGEDY 
 
 OF MAN 
 
 LUCIFEB. 
 
 And it may, I ween, 
 
 The fault, old hag, of thy lank hand have been. 
 Away! it waxeth warm here, Adam. 
 (They go on to the Tower, while the commotion in- 
 creases below. Adam and Lucifer again appear 
 on the bastion of the Tower.) 
 
 ADAM. 
 
 Vain 
 
 Is all, for I have been deceived again. 
 The ghastly apparitions of the past, 
 Old prejudice to vanquish and to cast 
 Away, and to opposing forces yield 
 A new, a broad, an all embracing field, 
 I thought to be enough. A mighty screw 
 From out this mechanism then I drew 
 Holy piety but failed to place 
 A stronger one there in its stead. The race 
 Of man is still in its unequal strife. 
 What sort of combat is this in their life, 
 When mighty swords a naked man oppose? 
 What kind of independence doth disclose 
 A state of things, in which a hundred must 
 Be sufferers, for want of their daily crust? 
 Because they will not bear the yoke of one? 
 It is a fight of famished dogs that run 
 After a bone, just thrown away. I hope 
 Into its place, an epoch new to ope: 
 Society, which will protect, and which 
 Will in rewards, that will inspire, be rich, 
 That causes man no fear, but spurs him on, 
 Where all its powers act in unison, 
 As science, blossoming sublimely grand, 
 
THE TRAGEDY 174 
 
 OF MAN 
 
 And reason pure, that doth its rules command. 
 That thus the world will be, e'en now I feel 
 Take me there, Lucifer, hear my appeal. 
 
 LUCIFER. 
 
 Vain man ! because so limited thy sight, 
 Thou see'st but chaos there; that to unite 
 Those forces, there be no work combined; 
 But in the workshop of our lives, can'st find 
 It all, if thou wilt view with spirit's eye 
 Their work for us and not their dwarfish /. 
 (It has grown dark. All in the market place have 
 formed a group, digging a grave in the centre, 
 and into which some mutely, some speaking, al- 
 ternately jump.) 
 
 CHORUS. 
 
 To work! now let the spade resound; 
 For to-day it must be done; 
 To-morrow, it will be too late, 
 The mighty work that is begun 
 Though ages pass, will never end. 
 Cradle, coffin, are but one; 
 What on the morrow will begin 
 Ever hungry, ever sated, 
 It gapes anew, what e'er therein, 
 May enter. 
 
 (The death knell tolls.) 
 'Tis o'er we rest. At morn 
 The mighty work will be resumed 
 By those who to new life are born. 
 
 PUNCH AND JUDY MAN. 
 The comedy is out; 
 They ring the curtain down, 
 
175 THE TRAGEDY 
 
 OF MAN 
 
 I entertained the crowd; 
 Who entertained the clown? 
 
 THE INNKEEPER. 
 Empty the glasses 
 Of each honored guest ; 
 Good night, my dear friends; 
 I go to my rest. 
 
 LITTLE MAID. 
 
 The little violets are faded now, 
 But others o'er my grave will bloom, I trow. 
 
 GYPSY WOMAN. 
 
 Each one would see revealed, the future's night; 
 But now they hide their eyes, dumb with affright. 
 
 LOVELL. 
 
 No joy to me, from riches e'er did come ; 
 But now, I'll find repose within the tomb. 
 
 WOEKMAN. 
 
 The week is gone, and Saturday night is here ; 
 My labor o'er at last, and rest is near. 
 
 STUDENT. 
 
 Sweet things I dreamt, but ever did awake. 
 Come, beauteous dream! naught now the spell can 
 break. 
 
 SOLDIER. 
 
 Full of conceit, I thought myself so brave; 
 When lo! I stumble into this mean cave. 
 
 COURTESAN. 
 
 The orgies are done, and paled, the pigment's bloom ; 
 How cold it is here; is it warm down in the tomb? 
 
THE TRAGEDY 176 
 
 OF MAN 
 
 PRISONER. 
 
 Fetters, remain above the worthless dust! 
 I feel, there is beyond a judge more just. 
 
 CHABLATAN. 
 
 How we deceived each other, claiming all to know ; 
 Confounded now we stand, 'fore that which truth 
 doth show. 
 
 EVE. 
 
 Why at my feet dost lie, thou depth of night? 
 Think me not by thy darkness to affright; 
 For with the halo thee I can defy. 
 The dust, the earth-born, in thy depths must lie; 
 The angel of youth, of poetry and love; 
 For me shall ope th' eternal gates above. 
 My smile to earth, will bring bliss from above, 
 Such bliss will bring, as sun rays leave 
 On hallowed faces. 
 
 (Drops her veil into the grave and is carried heaven- 
 ward in a halo.) 
 
 LUCIFEB. 
 Dost know her? 
 
 ADAM. 
 Ah! Eve! Eve! 
 
177 THE TRAGEDY 
 
 OF MAN 
 
 SCENE XII. 
 
 (The courtyard of a Phalanstery, built in the stiape 
 of a V. In the corridor to the right, a number of 
 laborers are busy with machinery, all in motion. 
 In the corridor to the left a savant is at work 
 amidst a mass of mechanical and astronomical 
 appliances and a chemical laboratory. All per- 
 sons in the Phalanstery wear a uniform. Adam 
 and Lucifer rise suddenly from the earth in the 
 centre of the courtyard.) 
 
 ADAM. 
 Where are we now? What people's this, what land? 
 
 LUCIFEB. 
 
 Land, people, are conceptions obsolete. 
 Was it not small to speak of fatherland? 
 Was it not with blind prejudice replete? 
 And did not narrow minds keep it alive? 
 All of the wide world through which we roam 
 Henceforth, forever, is all mankind's home, 
 In one great work all men associate, 
 One great thought in all minds reverberate, 
 And o'er the order which throughout obtains, 
 Science, honored, strict scrutiny maintains. 
 
 ADAM. 
 
 My soul's ideals then have form assumed; 
 The fashions of the past are then entombed, 
 But I regret that the conception home 
 Exists no more; it should have stood, the dome 
 Of Heaven's not safer, and could have stood 
 E'en in the order new of things, and good 
 
THE TRAGEDY 178 
 
 OF MAN 
 
 Had been its influence. The human mind 
 
 Fears what is infinite and seeks to find 
 
 Restricting barriers and without doubt 
 
 In inner worth doth lose, when spreading out, 
 
 To past and future jealousy it clings. 
 
 I fear, that for the world at large, it brings 
 
 No such enthusiasm, as the grave 
 
 Where buried are, the loved ones who gave 
 
 It life. He, who doth willing sacrifice 
 
 His life for those who by the sacred ties 
 
 Of blood and birth to him are near and dear, 
 
 Has for the friend a sympathetic tear. 
 
 LUCIFES. 
 
 In thy ideals thou find'st flaws, I ween, 
 Before thou hast them e'en embodied seen.* 
 
 ADAM. 
 
 Indeed not ! but I am curious to know 
 Just what idea 'tis to which we owe 
 The unity of all the world, the fire 
 Enthusiasm, which their hearts inspire 
 Kindled before by ev'ry small affair. 
 Achieving petty victories, to care 
 But for the highest aims of life. Tell me 
 However, first where we are now? I see 
 A place and people I ne'er saw before, 
 Then lead me to those joys which are in store 
 For me, whose soul will find reward for all 
 The woe from which it suffered, war and cabal. 
 
 LUCIFER. 
 
 This is one of many phalansteries, 
 Of modern man ; the modern home it is. 
 
179 THE TRAGEDY 
 
 OF MAN 
 
 ADAM. 
 Come, then! 
 
 LUCIFER. 
 No, wait! 
 
 Before we go we must 
 
 Put on some new disguise. This ancient crust 
 Cast off. They'd not believe in us ; to learn 
 'Bout us, these savants would put us in turn, 
 In chemical retorts. 
 
 ADAM. 
 
 Again thou art 
 But playing the teasing, mocking devil's part. 
 
 LUCIFER. 
 But in the spirit world it is quite true. 
 
 ADAM. 
 
 Do as thou wilt; and do it quickly too! 
 (Lucifer transforms l)oth of them, attiring them 
 similarly to the occupants of the phalanstery.) 
 
 LUCIFER. 
 
 Here, take this cloak, and hide thy curly lock 
 Of hair. We're ready now. 
 
 ADAM. 
 
 Then let us knock 
 There at the door of the great scientist. 
 
 LUCIFER. 
 Savant, I give thee greeting heartiest. 
 
 THE SAVANT. 
 
 Important is my work ; don't bother me, 
 I can not take the time to chat, you see. 
 
THE TRAGEDY 180 
 
 OF MAN 
 
 LUCIFEB. 
 
 I do regret that you can not allow 
 Two candidates for learning, who just now 
 Thus far, from the thousandth phalanstery came, 
 As pupils, hither drawn by thy great fame, 
 One moment of thy precious time. 
 
 SAVANT. 
 
 My friends, 
 
 Your most praiseworthy zeal to learn commends 
 Itself to me. My work can wait, if not 
 E'en one degree, the heat in yonder pot 
 May be cooled off, and if then matter yield 
 As I expect when it appears, congealed. 
 
 LUCIFEE. 
 
 Then I made no mistake, there did remain 
 With you, after you did all nature drain. 
 Humanity pass through a refining sieve: 
 The old time vanity. 
 
 SAVANT. 
 
 I now receive 
 
 You both with welcome, but tell me, sir, 
 Which of the sciences do you prefer? 
 
 ADAM. 
 
 Our thirst for learning never has been bound 
 To one branch only, but have pleasure found 
 The whole field to view we long for all. 
 
 SAVANT. 
 
 Right here you err. The great within the small 
 E'en lies concealed. Our life is short, take heed, 
 We have no time all things to learn and read. 
 
181 THE TRAGEDY 
 
 OF MAN 
 
 ADAM. 
 
 True ; well I know, there must be those who raise 
 The stone or carry mortar to the place ; 
 No structure can be built without their aid, 
 But no conception have of what they've made. 
 It is conceived by the architect alone, 
 Who planes no board and cannot hew a stone, 
 Yet he creates a work just like a God. 
 So does the man who really knows, but trod 
 In paths of learning great. 
 
 LUCIFEB. 
 
 We come to thee, 
 That thou, great man, teach us this path to see. 
 
 SAVANT. 
 
 And you did well, I can admire your zeal. 
 The mighty twigs of sciences conceal 
 Beauties of organism manifold; 
 When viewed together, we their charm behold. 
 
 LUCIFER. 
 Just as with women fair. 
 
 SAVANT. 
 Chemistry though. 
 
 LUCIFEB. 
 Its center is and makes all grow and glow. 
 
 SAVANT. 
 Well said. 
 
 LUCIFEB. 
 But the mathematician said howe'er 
 
THE TRAGEDY 182 
 
 OF MAN 
 
 The same thing of his own branch, so there 
 It is. 
 
 SAVANT. 
 
 In their conceit 'tis their own sphere 
 They think the centrum is. They are sincere, 
 But vain. 
 
 LUCIFEE. 
 In chemistry though you chose well. 
 
 SAVANT. 
 
 Yes, I feel safe, safer than I can tell. 
 Let me you now through this museum lead. 
 All of the world can not as yet succeed 
 In showing better. The extinct animal 
 Of ancient times, here you can find them all, 
 All well preserved. Thousands of them were then 
 On earth, and fought and struggled here with men, 
 Who our forefathers were, a savage race, 
 For the supremacy in dwelling place. 
 Of them full many a wondrous tale is told. 
 As locomotive this one served of old. 
 
 ADAM. 
 
 The horse! Not even one of a good race. 
 Ah, Al-Borak! that was a horse to praise. 
 
 SAVANT. 
 
 From this 'tis said, that man began to learn 
 To love him as a friend, it did not earn 
 A livelihoood by work assigned. A friend 
 It was, that's all, that it could comprehend 
 Man's thought, and faithfully it would obey 
 The man's command. Nay, more, it knew man's 
 
 greed 
 For property, stood guard o'er it; did bleed 
 
183 THE TRAGEDY 
 
 OF MAN 
 
 In its defense. If true, I do not say, 
 I state what I have heard and read ; I know 
 Howe'er, that in the days of long ago, 
 Man did some insane notions entertain ; 
 These stories are the remnants of the reign 
 Of ancient times. 
 
 ADAM. 
 
 The dog! and I tell you 
 All that which you have read and heard, is true. 
 
 LUCIFEK. 
 Adam, take heed! Thou wilt thyself betray. 
 
 SAVANT. 
 In this, you can the poor man's slave survey. 
 
 ADAM. 
 As poor men oxen for the rich have been. 
 
 SAVANT. 
 The deserts' mighty king can here be seen. 
 
 ADAM. 
 
 The lion! here, the tiger; there, the doe! 
 What animals still live, I'd like to know? 
 
 SAVANT. 
 
 What a question! Is't with you otherwise? 
 The animals still live, which science in no wise 
 Could ever substitute. The hog and the sheep, 
 For instance ; but e'en they're no longer cheap, 
 Poor specimens of what our broken down 
 Old nature could produce ; on these we frown. 
 Our hogs are living fat, and meat and wool 
 Our sheep. In each we recognize a tool 
 
THE TRAGEDY 184 
 
 OF MAN 
 
 For our ends used, like the retort, by rule 
 
 And regulation, laid down by our school. 
 
 It seems, howe'er you know our animals, 
 
 So let me show you now our minerals. 
 
 Look at this mighty block! it's known as coal, 
 
 It used to be of industry the soul; 
 
 And mighty mountains were filled with the stuff, 
 
 So from the bowels of earth, with care enough, 
 
 Man could obtain, what we with minute care 
 
 With scientific methods, gain from air, 
 
 And this was iron, and ere the earth's supply 
 
 Gave out, to take its place, man did not try 
 
 To dig aluminum. This ore is gold 
 
 'Twas once the curse of man ; in days of old 
 
 A valuable, yet a worthless thing; 
 
 While man in his blind faith was worshipping 
 
 Beings he called supreme, and even thought 
 
 Controled his fate, with all his might he sought 
 
 To gain this ore. He really thought that this 
 
 Caused greatest happiness and purest bliss 
 
 To own a deal of it. Welfare and law 
 
 And all that's sacred, men would sacrifice 
 
 For it; for many thousand years, men saw 
 
 A bloody strife to gain what we despise, 
 
 And yet, by which, it's wondrous to relate 
 
 He could buy everything, e'en what he ate. 
 
 ADAM 
 I know all this; for something new I wait. 
 
 SAVANT. 
 
 Indeed, stranger, your learning must be great 
 This will then interest you, I suppose; 
 This is a unique plant; the last, last rose 
 That ever grew on earth, a useless plant. 
 
185 THE TRAGEDY 
 
 OF MAN 
 
 Moved by some fancy, man, extravagant, 
 
 To millions of its sisters then would yield 
 
 The richest and most useful of his field. 
 
 To grown up children 'twas a favorite toy. 
 
 We, nowadays, cannot conceive the joy 
 
 It gave. The very scent and bud it seems, 
 
 Filled men with fancies and poetic dreams, 
 
 With songs of love and deep religious thought. 
 
 This weed, then, his best efforts brought to naught. 
 
 Here we preserve, as rarities most great 
 
 Two of such works of man of ancient date. 
 
 One, the first poem, and the author's name, 
 
 Men thought in their conceit then but of fame, 
 
 Was Homer, and on wildest fancy's wings 
 
 Us to a most phantastic world it brings 
 
 He Hades calls. To-day, we full well know 
 
 There is no place like that, and long ago 
 
 We did disprove each line of it. And here 
 
 I'll show you something else ; did'st ever hear 
 
 Of Tacitus, who wrote Agricola? 
 
 This is the manuscript. No man e'er saw 
 
 A more ridiculous, but in the main 
 
 More pitiful description of the reign 
 
 Of the barbaric race of long ago. 
 
 ADAM 
 
 These pages were then after all, preserved 
 As a testament, bequeathing to to-day 
 The ancient spirit. Do you not fear they may 
 Inspire the age which seems to be enerved 
 In higher aims? And when it has done so, 
 Will give your artful world a deathly blow? 
 
 SAVANT. 
 Correct. The observation dawned on us 
 
THE TRAGEDY 186 
 
 OF MAN 
 
 Quite long ago. We know 'tis dangerous, 
 The poison they contain. We therefore hold, 
 A man must be at least three score years old, 
 And must himself to science dedicate 
 Before these volumes he can penetrate. 
 
 ADAM 
 
 What of the fairy stories of the nurse? 
 Must not those tales the youthful souls immerse 
 In fancy's dream? 
 
 SAVANT. 
 
 Our nurses therefore sing 
 No song which baby's fancy e'er could bring 
 Into the realm of dreams. They sing and speak 
 Of rules in mathematics and physic. 
 
 ADAM (Aside.) 
 
 The murd'rous band! to rob the youthful heart 
 Of all those things which to it bliss impart! 
 
 SAVANT. 
 
 Let us proceed. Look at these instruments, 
 Used, we believe, in certain tournaments. 
 A cannon's this, its use unknown to us; 
 The inscription on it is mysterious: 
 " Ultima ratio regum." With this sword 
 Men killed their fellow men; common accord 
 Howe'er, made him who killed, no murderer. 
 This instrument, to which I now refer, 
 Was made by the hand of man. A whole life long 
 He toiled with iron will and courage strong. 
 To finish it. He did not know, the sun 
 Could just as well be used for what is done 
 For this his work ; and while he, with intent, 
 
187 THE TRAGEDY 
 
 OF MAN 
 
 A most misleading fancy, freely spent 
 On it, our own is excellent, though plain. 
 
 ADAM (Aside.) 
 But still, without a soul, it doth remain. 
 
 SAVANT. 
 
 These things, by hundred, are so childish, look! 
 A flower on this cup, a painted brook 
 On that; a thousand arabesques adorn 
 This armchair's back. Must we not ask in scorn 
 When we these things, all made by man, behold, 
 Does man in such a chair, sit with more ease? 
 Doth this cup more refreshing water hold? 
 But now, with our machines, we make all these, 
 In their most simple form, and are made well, 
 Each working man in his branch doth excel, 
 His skill to the most high perfection bring, 
 They always work upon the selfsame thing. 
 
 ADAM 
 
 Therefore, there is no life, and this you see 
 Destroys all individuality, 
 Which ever strives, the master to excel, 
 What scope, where force and spirit could combine, 
 To manifest their origin divine? 
 When man aspires to fight, and looks around, 
 But a sedate and measured life is found, 
 Not e'en the bliss of peril, can he feel, 
 There are no beasts of prey to hunt with zeal. 
 In science too, from which I hoped to gain 
 The greatest bliss, I am deceived again. 
 Instead of happiness, I was a fool, 
 I find an ordinary children's school. 
 
THE TRAGEDY 188 
 
 OF MAN 
 
 SAVANT. 
 
 Does not fraternity prevail all o'er? 
 Is not material weal here evermore 
 Secure? For your opinion my dear friend, 
 You, with full justice we could reprehend. 
 
 ADAM 
 
 What is the ideal then, pray tell it me, 
 Which into such a race breathes unity, 
 To work together for the common good? 
 
 SAVANT. 
 
 Our one idea is, a livelihood. 
 When man first came to earth, ages ago, 
 A well filled larder he found here below, 
 He had but to reach out his hand, and all 
 Was his and was within his beckon's call, 
 He could afford to live in thoughtless ease, 
 Just as the skipper lives within the cheese; 
 Had time, adventurous hypotheses 
 To build up and therein to find the spice 
 Of life and poetry too, as its prize. 
 But we must frugal be because we fear 
 That to our final crumb we're coming near. 
 And soon our cheese devoured, what follows then? 
 To starve must be the lot of thoughtless men? 
 In just four thousand years, it is foretold 
 The sun will have cooled off, the earth not hold 
 Life animate and naught on it will grow. 
 Four thousand years are ours, so much we know. 
 We'll learn it yet, I have but little doubt 
 To make a sun anew and live without 
 The present orb. To heat with water is 
 Adaptable, it will inflame with ease 
 
189 THE TRAGEDY 
 
 OF MAN 
 
 When made its oxygen all to release. 
 
 Our organism's secret too I trow 
 
 Soon by our patient research we shall know. 
 
 'Tis well our talk has brought this subject up, 
 
 I had almost forgot retort and cup. 
 
 LUCIFEB. 
 
 Decrepit, man must be, when to create 
 Retorts .must use. But granting that you can 
 At last the lifeless matter animate 
 With life imbue, what sort of soulless man 
 What monstrous, frightful thing will you have 
 
 brought 
 
 To life? What can he be? Unspoken thought, 
 Yearning for love, without an object e'en 
 To love. A love, just think, built by machine ! 
 A being, which by nature is denied. 
 Opposing none, to no one is allied. 
 And whence shall this abnormal thing, tell me, 
 Receiving its individuality? 
 And how, of man, the character and trait 
 Who's born in glass retort on chemist's grate? 
 
 SAVANT. 
 
 Behold the boiling mass in the retort! 
 Already here and there, a certain sort 
 Of living objects seem to move within 
 The glass. Affinity, repugnant force, 
 I have well calculated, and of course, 
 Matter will yield, the victory be mine. 
 
 LUCIFEB. 
 
 Savant, I can admire; but please define 
 That which I comprehend not. Can you tell 
 
THE TRAGEDY 190 
 
 OF MAN 
 
 Me how antitheses may not repel, 
 Affinities attract? 
 
 SAVANT. 
 Unnatural 
 
 Is what you here suggest. I tell you all 
 Of matters, subjected to a law I see. 
 
 LUCIFER. 
 Upon what basis built howe'er, tell me! 
 
 SAVANT. 
 
 What basis built? It is the law ! we know 
 What all our past experience does show. 
 
 LUCIFEK. 
 You have the coal, and nature does the rest. 
 
 SAVANT. 
 
 But I its boundless limits here arrest, 
 And it from mystic darkness forth I call. 
 
 LUCIFER. 
 Of life I see not any sign at all. 
 
 SAVANT. 
 
 It can not fail to come. I have espied 
 The secrets which in our organism hide, 
 A hundred lives dissected. 
 
 ADAM 
 
 Corpses, dead, 
 
 And you looked for life's secrets, with life fled. 
 Science will drag itself with limping gait 
 After experience, illuminate 
 It. as the bard, in service of the king, 
 
191 THE TRAGEDY 
 
 OF MAN 
 
 \Yill of his master's deeds great paeans sing, 
 But ne'er foretell them. 
 
 SAVANT. 
 
 Why thus jeer at me? 
 One spark I need, and life will come, you see. 
 
 ADAM 
 Oh, yes, one spark, but whence will that be won? 
 
 SAVANT. 
 One only step, that's all! and all is done. 
 
 ADAM 
 
 But who this only step has not yet made, 
 Has made no step at all. He still doth wade 
 In ignorance. Courtyard and portico 
 Are often trod. Into the sanctum though 
 No man has entered, who knows who e'er will? 
 (During this the vapor and smoke above the retort 
 grow denser and <a thundrous noise is heard.) 
 
 VOICE OF THE EARTH SPIRIT. 
 Ne'er! nobody! however great his skill, 
 Too great and yet too small for me's this glass. 
 Adam ! thou knowest me ; though of my class 
 They have not even thought. 
 
 ADAM 
 
 Proud man! You've heard 
 
 That spirit voice, and have you seen what stirred 
 Within that little cloud? And do you mean 
 To conquer it with this poor frail machine? 
 
THE TRAGEDY 192 
 
 OF MAN 
 
 SAVANT. 
 
 Insanity's attack ! I fear your mind 
 Has been upset. 
 
 (Retort breaks, earth spirit disappears.) 
 
 Alas! What I designed 
 Is broken now, I must begin anew. 
 Just when we with our work are almost through 
 And we about to reap our efforts' due, 
 A blind and stupid accident occurs. 
 And we are blocked. 
 
 LUCIFEB. 
 
 In former days adverse 
 Fate it was called; by its destructive force 
 'Twas less humiliating then, of course, 
 To be defeated, than by accident. 
 
 (Bell rings.) 
 
 What by the ringing of these bells is meant, 
 Tell us great man? 
 
 SAVANT. 
 
 The daily work is done, 
 
 Now come the hours of rest, and one by one 
 Come out the men from factory and field 
 To hear the reprimand of those who shield, 
 Or plan or do some wrong, and now we too, 
 The women and the children give their due, 
 I, too, am busy there; come, both of you. 
 (In long lines come the men, and in other lines the 
 
 women, among these Eve with a child.) 
 (They all form a semicircle in the courtyard. A 
 hoary man stands in the centre. Adam, Lucifer 
 and the Savant stand to the front, near the 
 museum.) 
 
 OLD MAN. 
 Let number thirty come. 
 
193 THE TRAGEDY 
 
 OF MAN 
 
 LUTHEB (Stepping from the line.) 
 Here! 
 
 OLD MAN. 
 You again! 
 
 'Tis charged that you yourself can not restrain, 
 And make in spite of warnings, such a fire 
 Beneath the boilers, that results most dire 
 To our phalanster's feared. 
 
 LUTHEB. 
 
 Who can withstand 
 
 The charm of this, the power to command 
 The fierce and sparkling, shrieking element 
 When it with a thousand tongues licks nourishment, 
 Upon devouring all and you is bent ; 
 To bravely stand and yet the flames foment; 
 To fan and nurse, and know within your soul 
 You can subject it to your full control. 
 The magic charm of fire he knoweth not, 
 Who's seen it only neath a boiling pot. 
 
 OLD MAN. 
 For this you'll go to-day without your meal. 
 
 LUTHEB (Stepping ~back.) 
 To-morrow fan it I'll with still more zeal. 
 
 ADAM 
 
 I know that man ! why, his features reveal 
 That Luther once was he. 
 
 OLD MAN. 
 Two hundred and nine! 
 
THE TRAGEDY 194 
 
 OF MAN 
 
 CASSIUS. 
 Here. (Steps forth.) 
 
 OLD MAN. 
 
 Now the third time you've here been sent, 
 Because without good cause, you strife foment. 
 
 CASSIUS. 
 
 Without good cause? Because I don't complain? 
 No coward I, and therefore I disdain 
 To yell for help while I can strike a blow 
 Why did he not defend himself, my foe? 
 
 (Steps back.) 
 OLD MAN. 
 
 Do not dispute! Not e'en your splendid head 
 From which the noblest impulses I've read, 
 Your deeds excuse. Your blood is hot and wild, 
 But they will cure you, and you will be mild. 
 
 ADAM. 
 
 Ah, Cassius, could'st thou remember me! 
 How at Philippi once I fought with thee! 
 Have beastly rule and have cold theories 
 Brought such a state of things that such a mind 
 As thine, can not due recognition find? 
 
 OLD MAN. 
 Number four hundred! 
 
 PLATO (Steps forth.) 
 Here, what do you want? 
 
 OLD MAN. 
 To my regret, complaints are made upon 't 
 
195 THE TRAGEDY 
 
 OF MAN 
 
 That you again in your day dreams are lost, 
 Three oxen which to you we did entrust 
 Let go astray. That you awake, you must 
 On dried peas kneel. 
 
 PLATO. 
 
 But even when I kneel, 
 I cogitate, and happiness I feel. 
 
 (Steps lack.) 
 
 ADAM. 
 
 Ah, Plato! what a r61e 't is thou must play 
 In the society thou didst essay 
 To regulate. 
 
 OLD MAN. 
 Number seventy! 
 
 MICHAEL ANGELO. 
 Here! (Steps forth.) 
 
 OLD MAN. 
 
 Thy workshop's in disorder left, I hear. 
 
 MICHAEL ANGELO. 
 
 I made and made naught else but feet of chairs 
 The plainest of the kind at that, these wares 
 I asked to be allowed to carve and make 
 More ornamental ; asked leave to forsake 
 The iron rules, eternally the same, 
 To make things beautiful was my one aim 
 I importuned and begged, but all in vain ; 
 Monotony made me almost insane, 
 I left my shop, just as it was, my brain 
 In a whirl. 
 
 (Steps lack.) 
 OLD MAN. 
 This breach must punished be. 
 
THE TRAGEDY 196 
 
 OF MAN 
 
 Go to your room to-day you shall not see 
 The glorious sun. 
 
 ADAM. 
 
 Oh! Michael Angelo! 
 
 What tempests must within thy bosom blow 
 When forced to dull routine, can'st not create. 
 I see around here friends, I know the fate 
 Of all, I know that what they represent 
 Is force and genius magnificent. 
 One fought with me, one died a martyr's death, 
 For one the limits of the world's too small, 
 And what my eye now here encountereth 
 By its eternal sameness doth appall. 
 All that was heretofore great and sublime 
 To dwarfish nothingness reduced by time. 
 Come Lucifer! I can't endure the sight. 
 
 OLD MAN. 
 
 Two children were brought here, so that we might 
 Now they their mothers' care no longer need, 
 And for the common good, we must proceed 
 To care for them, decide their future fate. 
 (Eve and another woman step forth, each leading 
 her child.) 
 
 ADAM. 
 
 How beautiful! a sight to captivate 
 The most exacting eye! has e'en this state, 
 Cold and exacting, rays which warm the heart? 
 True Poetry! 
 
 LUCIFEB. 
 Adam! shall we depart? 
 
 ADAM. 
 No, Sir, we shall remain. 
 
197 THE TRAGEDY 
 
 OF MAN 
 
 OLD MAN. 
 Wise man, proceed, 
 
 From the formation of their skull to read, 
 To see into what groove their minds shall turn, 
 What specialties they shall be made to learn. 
 (The Savant examines the children's heads.) 
 
 EVE. 
 What is to come to me? 
 
 ADAM. 
 That voice! 
 
 LUCIFER. 
 What is 
 
 To thee, this woman, who Semiramis 
 Hast held in warm embrace? 
 
 ADAM. 
 
 Ah! Lucifer, 
 
 I did not know this one then; why refer 
 To bygone days? 
 
 LTTCIFEB. 
 
 This is the good old song 
 Of lovers e'er on earth, who all along 
 Will claim that they are the discoverers 
 Of love, and each of them, pouting, demurs, 
 When told that love is, since the universe 
 Exists, all mankind's curse. 
 
 SAVANT. 
 
 This one shall a physician be in time, 
 This one in pastures roam and trees shall climb. 
 
THE TRAGEDY 198 
 
 OP MAN 
 
 OLD MAN. 
 Take them away. 
 (The children are to be taken away, Eve interferes.) 
 
 EVE. 
 
 I earnestly protest! 
 Who dares to tear my child thus from my breast! 
 
 OLD MAN. 
 Take them away! who dares to disobey? 
 
 EVE. 
 
 My darling child, I nursed thee night and day 
 With my heart's blood. Where is the brutal heart 
 Those sacred ties would rend, and dear ones part 
 Forever. To thee then must I say good-bye. 
 Lost in the crowd, thee nevermore espy? 
 
 ADAM. 
 
 If of all holy feeling not bereft, 
 Then with its mother let this child be left. 
 
 EVE. 
 
 Ah! yes, 'tis so, thou stranger bless'd! 
 Induce these men to yield to my request. 
 
 OLD MAN. 
 
 A daring game thou play'st. If we again 
 The prejudice of family entertain! 
 The structure holy science built with care 
 Is quickly overthrown; therefore beware! 
 
 EVE. 
 
 What do I care for what chill science says? 
 But sacred 's that, the mother's voice betrays. 
 
399 THE TRAGEDY 
 
 OF MAN 
 
 OLD MAN. 
 Well, move! 
 
 ADAM. 
 
 Don't dare to touch it. I'll command 
 This good old sword I have here in my hand. 
 
 LUCIFEB. 
 
 Dream picture animate, stand still! 
 (Puts his hand on Adam, who as if by a shock, 
 stands motionless.) 
 
 I'll show 
 That with one touch thy will I overthrow. 
 
 EVE. 
 My child! 
 
 (Faints.) 
 OLD MAN. 
 
 No mates have those two women there; 
 Let those report, to have them who would care. 
 
 ADAM (Goes to Eve.) 
 This one I claim. 
 
 OLD MAN. 
 Wise man, what do you think? 
 
 SAVANT. 
 
 Excitable is he, and nervous she, 
 Their offspring but a dwarfish race would be. 
 
 ADAM. 
 If she desire me, from here I shall not move. 
 
 EVE. 
 Most noble stranger, thee alone I love. 
 
THE TRAGEDY 200 
 
 OF MAN 
 
 ADAM. 
 I love thee with all the fervor of my heart. 
 
 EVE. 
 I'm thine forevermore! Naught shall us part. 
 
 SAVANT. 
 
 This is insanity! We here behold, 
 The ghastly spectres of the days of old, 
 In our enlightened age, what does it mean? 
 
 ADAM. 
 A ray of Eden, therein may be seen. 
 
 OLD MAN. 
 I pity you, poor man. 
 
 ADAM. 
 
 Don't pity me 
 
 Although my lot may be insanity, 
 All that's sublime, is born of insane thought 
 Like unto ours, which your stern modes have sought 
 To limit. A spirit voice doth come to us 
 From nobler spheres, sweetly harmonious 
 To prove the kinship of our souls, we see 
 The path to higher spheres, which makes us free. 
 
 (Embraces Eve.) 
 
 OLD MAN. 
 Let him into the hospital be cast! 
 
 LUCIFER. 
 A quick resolve! Adam, we'll travel fast. 
 
 (Adam and Lucifer suddenly disappear.) 
 
201 THE TRAGEDY 
 
 OF MAN 
 
 SCENE XIII. 
 
 (Space. In the distance a segment of our earth, con- 
 stantly diminishing, until it appears as a star, 
 mingling with the other stars. The scene begins 
 in dusk, which gradually deepens into total 
 darkness. Adam as an old man, with Lucifer, 
 flying through the air.) 
 
 ADAM. 
 Say, whither tends this mad and furious flight? 
 
 LUCIFER. 
 
 Did'st thou not long to rise to higher spheres, 
 Freed from the earthly dross, whence if aright 
 I understood thee, throughout all these years; 
 The voice of kindred souls e'er from the height 
 Thou heard'st? 
 
 ADAM. 
 
 'Tis true, but never did I dreaui. 
 The way, so drear, and with such gloom would teem. 
 How barren is this place, how strange, how dread, 
 As if some profanation here might tread. 
 Within my soul two sentiments obtain, 
 I feel that all the earth is void, and vain, 
 Her narrow sphere. My soul oppressed, doth yearn 
 To flee, but tearful now, longs to return. 
 Ah! Lucifer, look back upon our sphere. 
 Dost see, how first the flowers disappear, 
 How vanish then the forests' swaying crowns? 
 And now, the well known villages and towns, 
 Transformed into those characterless spots, 
 Then fade and vanish quite. To tiny blots 
 Are shrunk the mighty cliffs we viewed before; 
 
THE TRAGEDY 202 
 
 OF MAN 
 
 The clouds, surcharged with light'ning from which 
 
 roar 
 
 Those thund'rous voices, which affright all men, 
 Who in their fear seek shelter in their den; 
 But in which voices they presume to hear 
 A supernatural call, see! from this sphere 
 But a mean cloud of vapor seems to be. 
 Behold! where is the boundless mighty sea? 
 A thread it seemeth, tenuous and gray, 
 On that far globe down there which rolls away 
 Amidst its million sister stars. Ah! see, 
 That tiny star! 'Twas heretofore for me. 
 Oh! Lucifer! therein must she remain? 
 
 LUCIFER. 
 
 From our exalted standpoint, this is vain, 
 When from this height, we look on things below, 
 As first the charming details lose their glow, 
 Their force and grandeur fade, through vision's trick, 
 And what remains, is cold arithmetic. 
 
 ADAM. 
 
 We've left the stars behind us, there in space, 
 I see no goal ; no obstacles I trace. 
 Ah! Lucifer, I'm cold. What is all life 
 Without the bliss of loving and of strife? 
 
 L.UCIFEB. 
 
 Well, if thy heroism's at an end, 
 
 Let us return our days in dust to spend. 
 
 ADAM. 
 
 What dost thou say? Let's boldly forward go, 
 I have no fear. I'll feel the earthly woe 
 
 Until forever broken are the ties 
 
203 THE TRAGEDY 
 
 OF MAN 
 
 Which o'er our earthly being exercise 
 
 Their influence. But ah! What can this be? 
 
 I can not breathe my strength is leaving me 
 
 My senses all bewildered. Is it more 
 
 Than fable, told of Anthaeus of yore, 
 
 Who but in contact with the dust could live? 
 
 VOICE OF THE EARTH SPIRIT. 
 'Twas more than fable told, thou can'st believe, 
 I need not tell my name ; thou knowest me, 
 The spirit of the Earth ; the boundary 
 To all my power is this. Return, I say, 
 And thou wilt live; proceed, and thou must pay 
 An awful penalty. Thou wilt be lost 
 Thou'rt like the infusoria, when tossed 
 Within a drop of water, and to thee, 
 The earth is this one drop. 
 
 ADAM. 
 
 To frighten me, 
 
 Thou seek'st in vain; my body may be thine, 
 The soul within me though, is mine, and mine 
 Alone! No bounds are set for truth and thought, 
 For they existed e'en before was brought 
 Thy world of matter into life. 
 
 VOICE OF THE EARTH SPIRIT. 
 
 Vain man! 
 
 A punishment most dire will meet thy plan! 
 Was fragrance of the rose before the rose? 
 Does form exist before the body grows? 
 And light before the sun? Oh! could'st behold 
 Thy lone soul whirl through boundless space, as cold 
 It seeks with might, and ever seeks in vain 
 Amid its strange surroundings, to retain 
 
THE TRAGEDY 204 
 
 OF MAN 
 
 Perception, and the power thought t' express, 
 
 But dazed exerts itself without success. 
 
 Thoud'st shudder with affright, for all sensations, 
 
 All perceptions, are but emanations 
 
 Of this material mass thou callest earth; 
 
 Without earth, thou and I had never birth. 
 
 What in thy narrow home prevails, the fair, 
 
 The beautiful, infernal woe and care, 
 
 Is from my spirit drawn. What truth is, here, 
 
 Were imagined in another sphere; 
 
 What's here impossible, were nature there; 
 
 And thought may be, which here is only air. 
 
 There where exist nor gravity, nor weight, 
 
 Nor motion line in substance animate, 
 
 That which to us is light, may there be sound 
 
 And crystal, that which here as germ is found. 
 
 ADAM. 
 
 Think not that me thou so canst terrify; 
 For upward still, my soul doth long to fly. 
 
 LUCIFER. 
 
 Adam ! Adam ! Now at last is near, 
 Thy fate's decisive moment. A career 
 Of greatness will be thine, if thou to earth 
 Return'st; but if from out the cosmic girth 
 Dost wrest thyself, God ne'er will tolerate 
 Thee in his sight, but thee annihilate. 
 
 ADAM. 
 Does not decay come too with death? 
 
 EABTH SPIEIT. 
 
 Repeat 
 Not in this sphere, where spirits have their seat, 
 
205 THE TRAGEDY 
 
 OF MAN 
 
 The vain and mocking word of the ancient lie, 
 
 For all creation it doth terrify. 
 
 A sacred seal it is, and the Lord's own, 
 
 Which in his wisdom, can by him alone 
 
 Be broken; not by him, who of the tree 
 
 Of knowledge ate. 
 
 ADAM. 
 
 I'll break it though. 
 
 (Adam and Lucifer fly on. Adam suddenly screams.) 
 Ah, me! 
 
 LUCIFEB (Laughing.) 
 The ancient lie has triumphed. 
 
 (Pushes Adam aside.) 
 In the void 
 
 This puppet now, as a new asteroid, 
 May whirl, whereon new life may grow, for me. 
 
 VOICE OF THE EABTH SPIEIT. 
 No, Lucifer, too soon thou show'st thy glee. 
 One can't break through my realm, with such great 
 
 ease. 
 He only touched the strange world's boundaries 
 
 (To Adam.) 
 My son, the voice of home is calling thee. 
 
 ADAM (Recovering consciousness.) 
 I live again! In suffering though I be, 
 But ah! the pain itself is sweet. To lie 
 Annihilated, crushed in heart and brain 
 Is awful ! Lucifer, oh, let us fly 
 Toward home. Give me again my earthly reign. 
 There, where many a strife I've fought in vain. 
 I'll strive again. 
 
THE TRAGEDY 206 
 
 OF MAN 
 
 LUCIFEB. 
 
 And thou dost still believe. 
 That thou at last, shalt victory achieve? 
 And reach the goal? This soul so credulous 
 To man alone is homogeneous. 
 
 ADAM. 
 
 No such deceptive dream allureth me; 
 I know a hundred times I'll baffled be, 
 I do not care. What, after all 's the end? 
 The end when glory's o'er I apprehend, 
 The end, is death, and life is constant strife; 
 The aim of man, to struggle throughout life. 
 
 LUCIFEB. 
 
 A solace fine is this. If only high 
 Were the ideals which inspire our fight, 
 That for which yesterday, we wished to die, 
 To-day, but scorn or ridicule invites. 
 At Charonea thou for freedom fought'st, 
 Yet, later on, with Constantine thou sought'st 
 To make him master of the world. Did'st thou 
 Not then, with a martyr's crown upon thy brow, 
 Die for the faith and then with arms, once more, 
 Not seek to controvert, with science lore 
 The dicta of the church? 
 
 ADAM. 
 
 'Tis but the same. 
 
 I had ideals then, with which there came 
 To me enthusiasm which therefore 
 Were grand, sublime, and which then onward bore 
 My soul. Though science or the cross, it be, 
 Ambition, or the call of liberty, 
 
207 THE TRAGEDY 
 
 OF MAN 
 
 It elevates ; mankind has gained thereby, 
 And fight anew then let us homeward fly. 
 
 LUCIFEB. 
 
 Dost not remember what the savant said, 
 That in four thousand years the world were dead, 
 All strife and battle ceased? 
 
 ADAM. 
 
 Yes, unless man 
 
 Nature subdue. I feel, y,ea, know, he can 
 Do that in time. 
 
 LUCIFEB. 
 
 Suppose thou'rt right? Will there 
 Be strife and force, and might be found 
 Within a world where theories prevail? 
 
 ADAM. 
 
 But let the earth be saved, and without fail ; 
 That too, like all things else, its mission fill'd, 
 Will pass away, but mind and heart, not chill'd, 
 Again will for some new ideal glow! 
 But take me back! for now I fain would know 
 For what new principles again I'll burn, 
 There in that world redeemed. 
 
 LUCIFEB. 
 Let us return! 
 
THE TRAGEDY 208 
 
 OF MAN 
 
 SCENE XIV. 
 
 (A mountainous and treeless region, covered with 
 snow and ice. The sun, like a red, rayless ball, 
 is seen through a mist. Twilight. In the fore- 
 ground, -an Esquimo hut, surrounded by a few 
 dwarfed birches, junipers and bushes of black- 
 thorn. Adam, as a superannuated man, with a 
 staff, is seen, with Lucifer, descending the moun- 
 tains. ) 
 
 ADAM. 
 
 Wherefore roam we arnid this world of snow, 
 Where death, all hollow eyed, where'er we go, 
 Meets us, and only here and there a seal 
 Doth stir, and at approaching steps doth feel 
 Affright, and throws itself into the sea? 
 All nature seemeth dead; no grass, no tree, 
 But dwarf'd boughs, and there the moon gleams red 
 Behind the mist, like a death-lamp in the dread 
 And dismal crypts. Lead hence, where the green 
 
 palm grows, 
 Where the sun shines bright, the fair home of the 
 
 rose. 
 
 There where man's soul, in consciousness of strength 
 Has fought, and conquered over all, at length. 
 
 LUCIFEB. 
 
 But we are there. This blood red ball's thy sun; 
 Th' equator here beneath our feet doth run, 
 For science has not won the victory. 
 
 ADAM. 
 
 Grim world! Where only death a good can be, 
 To part gives me no pain, who long ago, 
 
209 THE TRAGEDY 
 
 OF MAN 
 
 At mankind's cradle stood, and saw him grow, 
 And fought with him, for justice, truth and light 
 And with him, hoped for days of future bright, 
 Who while this mighty grave yard now I view, 
 O'er which doth rest, the pall's funereal hue, 
 By nature spread; I, who was once the first, 
 Now, last man on the earth; ah, me! I thirst 
 To know, how did my race fall? Did it die, 
 In glorious strife, with victory's proud cry 
 Upon its lips, or slowly did decay, 
 From sire to son, grow weaker with each day, 
 Unworthy of a tear? 
 
 LUCIFEB. 
 I see that vain 
 
 Art thou of that soul of thine, as thou dost call 
 The force which makes the blood flow in the brain 
 Of youth, with mighty thoughts it to enthrall, 
 But do not ask to stand at thine own bier; 
 This hour will make it wonderfully clear 
 To thee, the reckonings of life unpaid, 
 Bright pictures by life's fevers drawn, must fade 
 And vanish, in death's agonizing throes ; 
 And what was life, but just a dream, who knows? 
 The feeble cry of this last woe of life 
 Is but a jeer at all our earthly strife. 
 
 ADAM. 
 
 Why then, was I not lost on yonder height, 
 Full conscious of my soul and strength? I might 
 Have spared myself all this, to hear my own 
 Funeral oration, in this mocking tone, 
 Delivered by a spirit, who to me 
 Has never shown one jot of sympathy, 
 Who for my valiant deeds, e'en does not care, 
 And who with me, my death e'en does not share. 
 
THE TRAGEDY 210 
 
 OF MAN 
 
 LUCIFER. 
 
 I recognize thy genus by the tear 
 Thou shed'st; fantastic hankering for clear 
 Conceptions. Never fear; thy race must be 
 Still in existence. Look, and thou wilt see 
 A dwelling of mankind, and from his lair 
 Comes now the master, thy proud race's heir. 
 (An Esquimo, armed for a seal hunt, comes out of 
 the hut.) 
 
 ADAM. 
 
 And in this caricature a man my kin 
 The heir of all the greatness I did win? 
 Why, Lucifer, did'st let me see, and know? 
 The solace is more bitter than the woe. 
 
 THE ESQUIMO. 
 
 Are gods above us still? Here I see two 
 Strange gods approaching me. I wish I knew 
 If their intent might good, or evil be ; 
 But safest 'tis from them to quickly flee. 
 
 (Starts to Retire.) 
 
 LUCIFEB. 
 Stop man! one word! 
 
 ESQUIMO (Falling to his knees.) 
 
 Pity, my gracious Lord! 
 The first seal I can slay, I give my word, 
 I'll sacrifice to thee, but hear my prayer; 
 My life, O gracious sire, do thou but spare! 
 
 LUCIFEB. 
 
 And to that seal, what right hast thou, tell me 
 That with Its life, thine own thou dost redeem? 
 
211 THE TRAGEDY 
 
 OF MAN 
 
 ESQUIMO. 
 
 The right of force. Do I not always see 
 The insect snatched by fishes in the stream? 
 The seal devours the fish, the seal I slay. 
 
 LUCIFEB. 
 
 And thou of the Great Spirit wilt be prey. 
 
 ESQUIMO. 
 
 I know, 1 know, but this brief span of time 
 He grants me in his mercy so sublime, 
 I purchase with a bloody sacrifice. 
 
 ADAM. 
 What cowardly views! 
 
 LUCIFEB. 
 
 And did'st thou otherwise? 
 He sacrifices seals, while thou kill'dst men, 
 In honor of that God thy fancy wrought, 
 Just as his fancy, his own God has sought, 
 Why wilt thou be so proud and haughty, then? 
 
 ESQUIMO. 
 
 I see thou'rt wrathful, and the reason I 
 Can feel, because in woe, I dared to sigh 
 To him, the great and good sungod, who e'er 
 Spends his benevolence, and doth not care 
 To take, yet always gives ; tradition says, 
 He here did rule supreme, in ancient days. 
 Forgive, and him I'll curse for aye. 
 
 ADAM. 
 
 With shame 
 
THE TRAGEDY 212 
 
 OF MAN 
 
 Oh! God! look down on man, whom in thy name, 
 In thine own image mad'st. 
 
 ESQUIMO. 
 
 Thy friend I see 
 Is very angry; may he hungry be? 
 
 LUCIFER. 
 He would not be so wrathful if he were. 
 
 ADAM. 
 Bad, ill timed jokes thou mak'st, I must aver. 
 
 LUCIFEB. 
 
 No joke; the truth was that to him I said, 
 Thy logic's that but of the man well fed, 
 While this man with his empty stomach thinks; 
 From reason and philosophy he shrinks. 
 You can't convince each other; you'll agree 
 However, quick enough; as soon as he 
 A good meal has, and thou hast hungry grown, 
 Thou may'st idealize; what best is known 
 In man's the brute, and when his craving's stilled, 
 He is with proud selfconsciousness well filled, 
 And dareth to despise the elements 
 Which make him what he is. 
 
 ADAM. 
 
 Thy compliments 
 
 Are worthy of thyself. Do I not know 
 That all that's sacred thou drag'st into low, 
 Vile dross, maliciously, and that to thee 
 All that is good and great, is but the steam 
 Escaping from the boiling pot of life, 
 Or but a circumstance to be, doth seem ; 
 
213 THE TRAGEDY 
 
 OF MAN 
 
 Which must obtain in this our daily strife, 
 As matter subject to some law supreme? 
 
 LUCIFER. 
 
 And dost thou truly think 'tis otherwise? 
 Dost think that at Thermopyla} the prize 
 Of valor had Leonidas achieved, 
 If elsewhere than in Sparta he had lived? 
 In Sparta where they had no money e'en 
 And on plain brown soup fed? And dost thou mean 
 That had he known of the Lucullean feast, 
 And all the lustful pleasures of the east, 
 He'd now immortal be? Had Brutus died, 
 If to fair Portia's chambers he had hied 
 To rest from his encounters, and to dine? 
 To vice and virtue grow. Shall I assign 
 The cause thereof? One's bred in foulest air 
 And misery ; the other one, how e'er, 
 In warmth and light, created by the sun, 
 And love of freedom, which from sire to son, 
 Is left as an inheritance, and which, 
 Selfsame in form and substance, did enrich 
 The human race. How many men have said, 
 " I'm done with life ! " and barren of all hope, 
 Committed suicide, with a stout rope! 
 Were they howe'er, cut down in time and saved, 
 They had forgotten how death they had craved. 
 And were e'en glad to live. Let us suppose, 
 That Hunyadi the great, came not of those 
 Brave Magyars, but had been born as a slave, 
 Of Moorish parentage, what would have been 
 His place in life, in whom the world has seen 
 The greatest hero Christendom hath known? 
 If Luther had been to the papal throne 
 Elected, and had Leo chanced to be 
 
THE TRAGEDY 214 
 
 OF MAN 
 
 Head of a German university, 
 
 The former would perhaps then have sent out 
 
 Encyclicals, while Leo, in his doubt, 
 
 Protested and reformed. And if a land 
 
 Had not with its life blood helped the wars, planned 
 
 By a Napoleon, would he be known? 
 
 His share were ignominy, not a throne. 
 
 ADAM (Interrupting.) 
 
 No more ! All that thou say'st seems plain and clear, 
 And true, yet all the more, thy views I fear, 
 For superstition blinds the imbecile. 
 Who still the soul within him does not feel, 
 Which 'mong us moves, in whomsoe'er it be, 
 In good, admits affinity to see, 
 If thy cold numbers did not ruthless kill 
 All nobler aims and purest thoughts. 
 
 LUCIFEB. 
 
 But still, 
 
 List to thy fellowman, for he can give 
 To thee, some lessons in self knowledge. 
 
 ADAM. 
 
 Live 
 Still, many of you here? 
 
 ESQUIMO. 
 
 Yes, many more 
 
 Than on my fingers I can count. The gore 
 Of some I've spilled, and all would I have slain, 
 But others ceaseless come, 'tis all in vain. 
 Oh, please, if thou art God, grant my request; 
 Let not so many men our land infest, 
 
215 THE TRAGEDY 
 
 OF MAN 
 
 And send into the world more of the seal, 
 And fewer men ; for this, I make appeal. 
 
 ADAM. 
 
 Let's go, Oh, Lucifer! Enough for me, 
 It is. 
 
 LUCIFEB. 
 
 But let us wait his wife to see. 
 
 ADAM. 
 
 No ! We despise the man, when he sinks low ; 
 But if the woman thus her downfall show, 
 Who once embodied poesy hath been, 
 Our fair ideal, so depressed and mean 
 Laving in slough, it would revolting be, 
 To view the caricature. Then go, save me! 
 (Meanwhile Lucifer, having drawn Adam to the hut, 
 
 pushes open the door, through which Eve, the 
 
 Esquimo's wife, is seen.) 
 
 LUCIFEE. 
 
 Dost recognize, or hast forgotten her? 
 Embrace her quickly, or thou wilt incur 
 This honest man's displeasure, who indeed, 
 Would grieve, did'st thou not grant his spouse her 
 meed. 
 
 ADAM. 
 
 Embrace her, I, who Aspasia held 
 Within these arms? Shall I then, be compelled 
 This creature to embrace; in whom I see 
 Her features? but while kissing, she to me 
 Would seem a loathsome beast. 
 
 ESQTJIMO. 
 
 My wife, a guest 
 Has just arrived, receive him kindly. 
 
THE TRAGEDY 216 
 
 OF MAN 
 
 EVE. 
 
 Rest. 
 And be thou welcome, stranger! 
 
 (Embracing him.) 
 
 ADAM (Extricating himself.) 
 
 Help! from here 
 
 Let's flee, Oh! Lucifer! My future sphere 
 Let me no longer view, my dreadful fate, 
 The useless strife, now, I would meditate 
 On this, If I can e'er defy God more? 
 
 LUCIFEB. 
 Awake then, Adam ! Now thy dream is o'er. 
 
 SCENE XV. 
 
 (The scene is changed into the palm region of the 
 third scene. Adam, again as a young man, comes 
 out of the hut, half asleep, looking about him 
 with amazement. Eve slumbers within. Lucifer 
 stands in the middle. Bright sunshine.) 
 
 ADAM. 
 
 Dread images, Oh! whither are ye fled? 
 While all still breathes and smiles, my heart is dead. 
 
 LUCIFEB. 
 
 The laws of nature thou'dst annihilate, 
 That comets new, thy life illuminate, 
 Thou in thy vanity thy due dost deem. 
 
217 THE TRAGEDY 
 
 OF MAN 
 
 ADAM. 
 
 Ah! was I dreaming, or is this a dream? 
 Or is life but a dream. When it doth light 
 On lifeless matter, to be lost in night 
 With it? Wherefore this fleeting consciousness. 
 Which but reveals the awful nothingness? 
 
 LUCIFEB. 
 
 Dost thou repine? 'Tis but a cowardly weakness 
 Without a strife, to take a blow with meekness; 
 But for the strong, thus calmly to await, 
 Unmurmuring, the mandates of a fate 
 Eternal, proves that circumstances vain 
 Must be, for o'er them, fate's grim mandates reign, 
 And thou'rt the medium which draws them forth. 
 
 ADAM. 
 
 No, no! thou liest. The will is free. My worth 
 
 Hath sufely earned it, for my Paradise, 
 
 My all, for this did I e'en sacrifice, 
 
 Much have I learned from scenes I viewed in dreams, 
 
 And much to me now but illusion seems, 
 
 But 'tis for me, a different path to ope! 
 
 LUCIFEB. 
 
 If e'er oblivion and constant hope 
 Were not confederates of fate, each wound 
 To heal, and veil the chasm's depths profound, 
 Assuring thee, " a hundred bold ones fall 
 Therein, but thou more fortunate than all, 
 Shalt o'er it leap ! " But thou hast surely seen, 
 As scientist, 'mongst curious things, I ween, 
 The ascaris, in hawk and cat can live; 
 But in the mouse alone, it doth receive 
 
THE TRAGEDY 218 
 
 OF MAN 
 
 Its first development; but who can say 
 
 A certain mouse is doomed to be the prey 
 
 Of cat or hawk, and whosoe'er be sly, 
 
 May live to a great age, and hoary, die 
 
 In his domestic circle. Still doth wait 
 
 In spite of all, invincible as fate, 
 
 A law, which none of them can e'er resist, 
 
 And many fall, that always may exist 
 
 In future ages, the Mollusca. Man 
 
 Is not as individual bound, nor can 
 
 The chain be borne together, by the throng; 
 
 By inspiration, is he borne along 
 
 For new ideals. Martyrs at the stake 
 
 There'll be, and scoffers, but who the calculation 
 
 Makes, must e'er admire the compensation 
 
 Of fate, which all so well apportioneth ; 
 
 Sin and virtue; faith, marriage and death; 
 
 Madness and suicide. 
 
 ADAM. 
 
 Hold! what thought 
 
 Like light'ning, rushes through my brain distraught? 
 E'en thee, O God, can I defy, although 
 A hundred times fate says, " thus long," I know 
 I need not live, against my will ; for down 
 Below the abyss ; above, the cliff doth frown. 
 One spring the last scene and the play doth end. 
 (Adam rushes up the cliff. Eve appears at the door.) 
 
 LUCIFEB. 
 Doth end indeed! Naught doth such speech por* 
 
 tend. 
 
 Is not each moment, end, beginning too? 
 For this, did'st thou not several ages view? 
 
219 THE TRAGEDY 
 
 OF MAN 
 
 Em 
 
 Adam, why did'st thou steal away from me? 
 So cold was thy last kiss ; anger and care 
 Sit on thy brow, and I have fear of thee. 
 
 ADAM (Going on.) 
 
 To dog my footstep, how can'st thou thus dare? 
 This can the woman never comprehend; 
 The lord of earth his time can not e'er spend 
 In vain coquetry, and a burden she 
 
 (More tenderly.) 
 
 Becomes. Why did'st not slumber peacefully. 
 A little while? for harder 't will be now, 
 The sacrifice I to the future owe. 
 
 EVE. 
 
 But list and it may better be endured 
 That which till now was doubtful, is assured 
 The future. 
 
 ADAM. 
 How? 
 
 EVE. 
 
 Thou'lt smile when I avow , 
 
 My secret; this come nearer Adam now, 
 Into thine ear I'll whisper but one word ; 
 I feel I am a mother. 
 
 ADAM (Falling on Ms knees.) 
 
 Oh! my Lord, 
 
 Thou'st vanquished me. Here in the dust I lie; 
 Without thee, 'gainst thee, vainly strive must I, 
 Raise me, or strike to earth! I bare my breast 
 To thee. 
 
THE TRAGEDY 220 
 
 OF MAN 
 
 LUCIFEB. 
 
 Thou worm! All, I at thy behest 
 Have done, thy greatness, all forgotten? 
 
 ADAM. 
 
 Cease ! 
 'T was a distorted vision; this is peace. 
 
 LUCIFEB. 
 
 Why, foolish woman dost thou boast? To earth, 
 But misery and sin, will bring the birth 
 Of him, who was conceived in Eden, 'though 
 Conceived in sin. 
 
 EVE. 
 
 And if, God will, we know, 
 One there will be, conceived in misery, 
 And sin extirpate, and fraternity 
 Will bring into the world. 
 
 LUCIFEB. 
 
 Dost thou revolt? 
 
 Slave, beast! Rise from the earth, thou dolt! 
 (He strikes Adam. Heaven opens. The Lord appears 
 in a halo, surounded by angels.) 
 
 THE LORD. 
 
 Spirit, down into dust! Greatness 'fore me 
 Can not exist. 
 
 LUCIFEB (Crouching.) 
 My curses upon thee! 
 
 THE LOBD. 
 
 Rise, Adam! preserve thy soul serene. 
 Once more thou'rt in my care. 
 
221 THE TRAGEDY 
 
 OF MAN 
 
 LUCIFEB. 
 
 The family scene! 
 
 To sentiment, perhaps, most beautiful, 
 To understanding, infinitely dull. 
 And wearisome. 'Tis best to steal away. 
 
 (Starts.) 
 THE LORD. 
 
 Lucifer, a word I have to say 
 To thee. Remain! My son, tell me thy grief. 
 
 ADAM. 
 
 My Lord, such frightful scenes have tortured me; 
 And I know not what is reality. 
 Oh! tell me, tell what is my destiny! 
 Is there naught else but this existence here, 
 So limited and narrow? And my soul, 
 Will it 'mid all the strife then be distilled, 
 Like purest wine, that poured upon the ground, 
 To sink into the dust? Or dost ordain 
 For noble spirits, better things? My race 
 Will it approach thy throne, or like the beast 
 But tread the mill, till wearied unto death 
 From its own sphere, escaping never more? 
 And will the noble soul be recompensed 
 For the shed blood and scoffing of the mob? 
 Enlighten me, and gratefully my fate, 
 Whate'er it be, I will endure, if only 
 I may progress, for this uncertainty 
 Is hell. 
 
 THE LOBD. 
 
 Ask not again, the secret, veiled 
 Beneficently from thy longing eyes, 
 By the wise hand of God. But could'st thou know 
 That momentarily on earth, thy soul 
 
THE TRAGEDY 222 
 
 OF MAN 
 
 Did rest while waits eternity above, 
 
 No virtue 'twere to suffer longer here. 
 
 If thou did'st know thy soul would be absorbed 
 
 In dust, for grand ideas, what incentive 
 
 To sacrifice the moment's fleeting bliss? 
 
 While now, the future gleameth through a mist, 
 
 So heavy laden with the cares and woes 
 
 Of this transitory life, the sense 
 
 Of an infinitude doth wake; if this 
 
 Engender pride, mortality restricts it; 
 
 Both greatness then and virtue, are assured. 
 
 LUCIFEB ( Laughing. ) 
 
 In truth, whate'er career thou enterest, 
 Is glorious! So greatness then and virtue 
 Thee will guide. These terms can be embodied 
 Alone, where prejudice and superstition 
 With ignorance united, hold their sway. 
 Why have I striven so long with man, of mire 
 And sunshine molded? He is too dwarfed for wisdom, 
 Yet too great for blindness. 
 
 ADAM. 
 
 Scoff, oh! scoff not, 
 Lucifer! I've seen the pure creation 
 Of thy mind, but cold upon my soul, 
 The sight did fall ; but Lord, who will uphold 
 If on the right path I remain? From me 
 Thou did'st withdraw thy guiding hand, that I 
 Might of the tree of knowledge eat. 
 
 THE LORD. 
 
 Thine arm 
 
 IB strong, thy soul exalted; infinite 
 The scope which e'er to action doth invite ; 
 
223 THE TRAGEDY 
 
 OF MAN 
 
 And if thou heedest well, a voice will call 
 
 To thee unceasingly, to lure thee back 
 
 And raise tbee up ; but follow e'er tbe call. 
 
 If in the turbulence of active life 
 
 The heavenly voice be stilled, tbe purer soul 
 
 Of this frail woman e'er will hear it, far 
 
 Away, from the mire of earthly interest, 
 
 And in her heart, to song and poesy 
 
 'Twill be distilled. Thus, at thy side, sits e'er 
 
 In happiness and in misfortune's hour, 
 
 A smiling and consoling genius. 
 
 And thou too Lucifer, thou art a link 
 
 In my great cosmos; so pursue thy work, 
 
 For thy cold wisdom and absurd negation 
 
 Will be the leaven that causes fermentation ; 
 
 Though in man, an instant doubt creating, 
 
 What matters it, he will return again; 
 
 But thine own sin, eternal being, that 
 
 Which thou would'st fain destroy, will be the germ 
 
 Of beauty and nobility to come. 
 
 CHOEUS OF ANGELS 
 What a mighty thought! 
 We're free, 'twixt good and ill 
 To choose, while over us, 
 God's mercy waiteth still. 
 Act boldly, fearing not 
 The herd's ingratitude; 
 For this is not thine aim 
 But action, great and good. 
 For else thou must feel shame, 
 And vanity, to earth, 
 This consciousness doth hurl, 
 Ennobling, glorious worth. 
 But on the lofty way 
 
THE TRAGEDY 224 
 
 OF MAN 
 
 Let thee not blind the sight, 
 
 The thought, that thou could'st add 
 
 One atom to God's might, 
 
 He only speaks to thee, 
 
 As means toward thy fate 
 
 Fulfilling. Honor comes 
 
 From him, for him doth wait. 
 
 EVE. 
 
 Ah ! now I comprehend the lay ; to God 
 Be praise! 
 
 ADAM. 
 
 I feel it too, and follow it. 
 But oh! my destiny could I forget! 
 
 THE LORD. 
 I've told thee, man, strive and trust! 
 
 THE END. 
 
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