Prologue

The background represents cloud banks that resemble corroding slate cliffs with ruins of castles and fortresses.

The constellations of Leo, Virgo, and Libra are visible, and from their midst the planet Jupiter is shining with a strong light.

THE DAUGHTER OF INDRA stands on the topmost cloud.

THE VOICE OF INDRA [from above].

Where are you, daughter, where?

THE DAUGHTER.

Here, father, here.

THE VOICE.

You've lost your way, my child—beware, you sink—How got you there?

THE DAUGHTER.

I followed from ethereal heights the ray
Of lightning, and for car a cloud I took—
It sank, and now my journey downward tends.
O, noble father, Indra, tell what realms
I now draw near? The air is here so close,
And breathing difficult.

THE VOICE.

Behind you lies the second world; the third
Is where you stand. From Cukra, morning star
You have withdrawn yourself to enter soon
The vapoury circle of the earth. For mark
The Seventh House you take. It's Libra called:
There stands the day-star in the balanced hour
When Fall gives equal weight to night and day.

THE DAUGHTER.

You named the earth—is that the ponderous world
And dark, that from the moon must take its light?

THE VOICE.

It is the heaviest and densest sphere
Of all that travel through the space.

THE DAUGHTER.

And is it never brightened by the sun?

THE VOICE.

Of course, the sun does reach it—now and then—

THE DAUGHTER.

There is a rift, and downward goes my glance——

THE VOICE.

What sees my child?

THE DAUGHTER.

I see—O beautiful!—with forests green,
With waters blue, white peaks, and yellow fields

THE VOICE.

Yes, beautiful as all that Brahma made—
But still more beautiful it was of yore,
In primal morn of ages. Then occurred
Some strange mishap; the orbit was disturbed;
Rebellion led to crime that called for check——

THE DAUGHTER.

Now from below I hear some sounds arise—
What sort of race is dwelling there?

THE VOICE.

See for yourself—Of Brahma's work no ill
I say: but what you hear, it is their speech.

THE DAUGHTER.

It sounds as if—it has no happy ring!

THE VOICE.

I fear me not—for even their mother-tongue
Is named complaint. A race most hard to please,
And thankless, are the dwellers on the earth

THE DAUGHTER.

O, say not so—for I hear cries of joy,
Hear noise and thunder, see the lightnings flash—
Now bells are ringing, fires are lit,
And thousand upon thousand tongues
Sing praise and thanks unto the heavens on high—
Too harshly, father, you are judging them.

THE VOICE.

Descend, that you may see and hear, and then
Return and let me know if their complaints
And wailings have some reasonable ground——

THE DAUGHTER.

Well then, I go; but, father, come with me.

THE VOICE.

No, there below I cannot breathe——

THE DAUGHTER.

Now sinks the cloud—what sultriness—I choke!
I am not breathing air, but smoke and steam—
With heavy weight it drags me down,
And I can feel already how it rolls—
Indeed, the best of worlds is not the third

THE VOICE.

The best I cannot call it, nor the worst.
Its name is Dust; and like them all, it rolls:
And therefore dizzy sometimes grows the race,
And seems to be half foolish and half mad—
Take courage, child—a trial, that is all!

THE DAUGHTER. [Kneeling as the cloud sinks downward]

I sink!