The Sacred Drama of Eleusis

Reconstructed by Edouard Schuré. Set to free rhythms by Rudolf Steiner

Play in three acts

based on an authorized translation by Marie von Sivers

List of the figures¹ with their secret meaning:

THE HIEROCERYX or HOLY HERALD, equivalent to Hermes, mediating genius between humans and gods, interpreter of mysteries.
ZEUS, the demiurge, sublime creator of the universe, represented by the hierophant, head of the Eumolpid family and high priest of Eleusis.
DEMETER, divine reason and heavenly light, represented by the hierophantide, wife of the high priest of Eleusis.
DIONYSUS, son of Zeus and Demeter, the word or divine spirit, active in the universe.
PERSEPHONE, daughter of Zeus and Demeter, the original soul of all humanity.
EROS, in the form of a winged boy. The transformer and converter of all things. Tool of the demiurge, his magical mediator.
CHORUS OF NYMPHS
The triple HEKATE, goddess of the moon, genius of transformations and metamorphoses, also symbolizing the three regions that the soul must pass through in order to incarnate and return to its origin.
METANIRA, widow of Keleos, king of Eleusis.
TRIPTOLEMUS, her son, a young ephebe.
RHODOPE, CALLIRHOE, PHAINO, daughters of Metanira.
PLUTO, god of the underworld or dense matter.
MONSTERS and PHANTOMS, LARVAE and LEMURES, from the mouth of Hecate.
CHORUS OF MYSTICS, who participate in the mysteries, individual souls in search of truth.
CHORUS OF THE BLESSED, in the light of Demeter.
CHORUS OF HEROES

Prologue: The Abduction of Persephone

[HERMES ( the herald of the mysteries, to those present)]:
Sensing God's creative power in his soul
Man lifts his mind in thought
To Demeter, the Earth Mother.
Through two of the gods' gifts
She has placed his being well in the universe.
She lets him reap the fruits of the earth,
That he may overcome his animal nature.
She radiates the power of sacred knowledge
In the deepest recesses of his soul,
That he may feel the seeds of God's eternity
Growing strong in his spirit.
As the fruits of her gifts ripen,
He respects them in words and deeds,
Which you shall now hear and also see.

In the background, one sees rocks with a grotto, surrounded by a myrtle grove and a few poplars. In the foreground, a meadow where nymphs recline around a spring.

DEMETER with the kalathos on her head, the scepter in her hand, in a serious voice:
In this grotto I leave you,
Child dear to the gods.
Weave your veil here,
Await your mother's return
In the circle of nymphs who surround you kindly.
In heaven, your eyes may see
Your beloved home, in the universe
Your proud possession.
[All the gods follow your call!
But do not listen to the enticing voice of Eros,
For he is cunning, and treacherous advice
Is all he can give, despite his gentle gaze.
You must not leave this grotto
And pick the seductive flowers
Of the earth; their scent would intoxicate you,
And he would have to rob you of the light of heaven,
He would snatch the memory itself from your soul.
Stay in the circle of the cheerful nymphs,
Who surround you kindly,
And return to you,
Let us hasten to the high ether,
In the serpent chariot, surrounded by fire!

PERSEPHONE embroidering a long, multicolored veil:
Sublime, stern mother,
I will vow it to you.
The solemn radiance of light,
Which shines from your noble divine form
And is dear
To the soul of your daughter,
Be witness to my vow.
May the punishment of the gods
Strike the disobedient without mercy.

Demeter exits.

CHORUS OF NYMPHS!:
O Persephone! O Virgin!
Chaste bride of heaven!
In your veil you weave
The bright forms of the gods.
May the vain deceit of the earth
Be forever far from you!
May the pure radiance of truth
Shine only in your eyes!
May you live in the empyrean
Dionysus, your husband,
Chosen by heaven itself.
Like the distant sun's chaste ray
His kiss but touches you.
He lives by your breath,
In his light you breathe
There is no greater salvation
To be found in the vast universe.

PERSEPHONE:
The countless forms of worldly things
Are wrought by my hand
Into the blue of the sky
Of the vast veil of ether;
It shows fold upon fold.
But each one conceals figures,
Woven by my ivory needle
According to the gods' counsel.
My art has reached
The end of this realm of the gods.
The hundred heads of Chaos
And his thousand arms,
I have woven them all,
So that mortal beings
May be sterilized from his womb.
But now he calls them
From the barren depths
To a life of light and joy?
The father of the gods
Has revealed the dark mystery to me.
But my heart pounds with desire
To see the form
Who wrought such a miracle.

THE NYMPHS:
Do not think of that!
Withdraw yourself
From this vain question.

PERSEPHONE rises and throws back her veil:
O Eros, you, the gods'
Eldest and youngest,
Source of joy and tears,
Inexhaustible fountain of the world:
O, you are called,
The invisible, unknown
Counted among the immortals.
Mysterious Eros!
Stunned as if by a powerful spell
My soul's consciousness flees,
When it hears only your name's
Intoxicating sound.

CHORUS OF NYMPHS:
Search no further!
Flee from danger,
Threatening to humans
And also to the gods.

PERSEPHONE stares into space with horrified eyes:
Does memory leave the soul?
Is it filled with dread?
Chaos... human forms,
Genders from the abyss
Rising without number
The cry of the world in becoming,
The cries of hatred and war!
The terrible power of death.
All this stands before my eyes!
The abyss draws me
Into its dark depths.
My soul strives downward.
Eros' spell takes hold of me,
He shows me the torch:
Death already stands before me.
Leave me, terrible dream vision.
She covers her face with her hands and sobs.

CHORUS OF NYMPHS:
O divine virgin!
It is only a dream,
But it will become reality,
When guilty desire
Calls it forth in your soul.
The bliss of heaven must fade
Into illusion for you,
When the warning of salvation
Sounds in vain to you.
Continue to weave the veil,
Forget what Eros may reveal to you in unchaste ways.

PERSEPHONE lowers her hands from her face, which has taken on a different expression:
You are foolish,
O foolish one that I was.
Now memory sprouts.
I need only think
Of the sacred mysteries.
In Olympia it was revealed to me:
The most beautiful of the gods is Eros.
On his winged chariot he drives
Ahead of the immortal gods,
When form-creating elements
Bind themselves, creating beings.
From the depths of chaos,
His tone of love entices the heroes
And leads them to the heights of ether.
His knowledge knows no bounds.
Like the fire from which
Creation sprang,
His power animates the worlds.
The keys to the gates
Of Earth and Heaven itself,
He may wield them!
O Eros, reveal yourself to me!

CHORUS OF NYMPHS:
Unhappy one, stop!

EROS emerges from the forest in the form of a winged boy:
It sounds so powerful
Persephone's desire
To Eros: Here he is.

PERSEPHONE sits down on her seat:
How different, Eros, must
Persephone see you,
Than in the picture
You were drawn to her.
Betrayal and cunning,
So they said,
Fill your soul,
Now I see you,
And my heart
And soul become wide,
I see the eye
So clear and open.
The beauty of the child,
The pure radiance of innocence
Flows from your body.
You are highly praised
For your wisdom, no less
For your skill in every task.
Show Persephone now,
Helping her
With this veil's
Meaningful work.

EROS:
Obeying such a wish,
Persephone sees me lying
At her feet,
Admiring the veil's
Weave, which reflects back
The artist's blue eyes
To the astonished viewer.
And forms without equal
Your hand has woven into it,
Only one thing in the universe can surpass them in beauty,
That which is unknown to itself,
That which has never seen itself in the mirror:
The artist's own form.
The artist's own form.
[He smiles slyly.]

PERSEPHONE:
Is it possible to see oneself?
She blushes.
Does Eros recognize such forms?

EROS:
They are not unknown
To my soul,
The becoming of the gods looks
Out of them at me. —
Why does your work end
In chaos?
Only there is the beginning
And the goal of the struggle
Recognizable to the searching soul.
The Titans' outrage,
How humans come into being
And the power of love,
The scrutinizing gaze misses.

PERSEPHONE:
My knowledge is not sufficient
For such a revelation.
What follows,
Persephone can only accomplish
if Eros' help is hers.

EROS casts her a fiery glance:
You shall not lack
what your soul desires,
once you grant the helper only one thing:
to your helper:
You shall visit the meadow with him,
To gather the most beautiful flowers.

PERSEPHONE seriously:
If I were to take such a step,
I would have to violate my mother's
wise and strict command. I would have to violate:
“The voice of Eros must not
Entice you to pick the flowers
From the meadow.
If your mind did not comply
With such a warning,
You would irrevocably become
The most miserable of the gods.”

EROS:
The mother does not want
The secrets of the earth and hell
To be revealed
To her daughter's soul.
You owe this revelation
To the scent of those flowers.
PERSEPHONE:
Are you able to give
such knowledge to the soul?

PERSEPHONE:
And are they known to you?

EROS:
Nothing is unknown to me.
And I feel only younger
From their power.
Daughter of the gods, know this!
The abyss is filled
With terror and shivers,
unknown to heaven.
But no one recognizes divinity,
hidden from the powers of earth and hell.

EROS:
It shall be proven!
He touches the earth with the tip of his bow, and a ‘great narcissus’ rises.

PERSEPHONE:
O what a miracle!
Significant memory
Awakens in the trembling heart.
It was on my beloved star,
Where I often lay resting
On mountain peaks.
Then, awakening, it shone
Towards me, silvery
A star, glistening
Like opal in the pale blue
Of the vast expanse of sky.
It seemed to me as if it were
The announcement of my husband,
Promised to me by the gods.
The torch of Dionysus seemed to me
The star, which always
Soon sank after its appearance.
The flower is like the torch.

EROS:
The transformation
And reshaping of things is my work.
From the small I create
The image and likeness of the greatest.
From the depths I elicit
The mirror of the heavens.
In earth and sky
I mix the forms,
Which from the formless depths
It is my task to shape.
From the abyss I have
Taken the star that you
Call yours,
In the form of a flower, so that
You may breathe in its fragrance.

CHORUS OF NYMPHS:
Take heed, Persephone,
Misfortune can easily
Arisen from sorcery.

PERSEPHONE:
Tell me the name
Of this flower.

EROS:
Narcissus is the name
Given to it by humans,
The eternal symbol of desire
In my language.
Look at it closely:
It looks up at you,
Like a living thing,
Its delicate, white crown shines.
Its fragrance flows from the heart,
Which lives golden within.
Filled with joy,
It surrounds you.
Raise the magical flower
To your face,
And pictorially before your eyes
All monsters shall appear
Of the abyss and what mysteries
The depths of the earth hold,
And what moves the human heart.
Nothing remains hidden from you.

PERSEPHONE:
O wonder flower,
Your scent is intoxicating!
My heart trembles,
My fingers glow,
They grasp you!
I want to inhale you,
Press you to my lips,
Place you on my heart
And die blissfully,
In your magical breath!

The earth splits open beside her. From the wide-open, black chasm, Pluto slowly rises halfway up in a chariot drawn by black horses. He seizes Persephone the moment she picks the flower and pulls her violently toward him. She struggles in vain in his arms and lets out a loud cry. Immediately, the chariot sinks and disappears, its rumbling fading into the distance like underground thunder. The nymphs scatter through the grove, sighing. Eros runs away laughing.

The voice of PERSEPHONE under the earth:
Help, mother, mother!