Thelema ScholarTHE ALEISTER CROWLEY COLLECTION
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1898 · PDF PAGE 21

The Poem

118 | MYSTERIES: VAUGHAN [astonished ]. They are not mine, child. I did not see them till you showed me. [Zaking papers.| Why, they are in your handwriting ; what are they? [Reading, gradually becomes aware that something strange has happened.) It is finished—it is finished ! [ Curtain.

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1898 · PDF PAGE 7

The Poem

104 MYSTERIES : PERCY. I cannot think at home. VAUGHAN. Why think, if thinking makes you sad? | PERCY. That I may write. I have not long to live, and I must write, write always. FRIEND [aside to Vaughan). Ii me semble qu’il a faim. PERCY. I am hungry for a little love, a little pity. To-night you have shown me your soul, and I am not hungry any more. VAUGHAN. | But, boy, you are starving physically. Come home with me and have some dinner. Only my daughter will be there. PERCY, You are very kind. Thank you. FRIEND [aside]. He is a gentleman. VAU…

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1898 · PDF PAGE 9

The Poem

106 MYSTERIES : VAUGHAN. Do you find beauty in her ? PERCY. No, but I see in her history a poem, to which I trust that God will write an end. VAUGHAN. What end can come but evil ? PERCY. O! if I had no hope for her I should have none for myself. VAUGHAN, How? Have you then fallen? PERCY. Oh, yes, I have fallen. I am older every hour. [ have wasted time, I have wasted love. VAUGHAN. Perhaps it is not all waste after all. There is a use for everything, nothing is destroyed—believe so, anyhow! — FRIEND. What about this dinner of yours, Vaughan? Es…

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1898 · PDF PAGE 17

The Poem

114 MYSTERIES : VAUGHAN [bending over Percy]. Are you hurt? PERCY. Oh, hardly hurt at all! Only my head a little, and I wanted so to finish the poem to-night. ESME, Let me come to him, father. Oh, Percy, Percy, look at me, look at me; you're not hurt, are you? PERCY. Am I ever hurt with your arms round me? ESME., : Oh, but you grow whiter; you must be hurt. VAUGHAN. A knife! He must have stabbed him. Fetch a doctor, one of you, sharp! [Exzt a man. ESME. It is his heart; see, my hand is all covered with blood. Give me a handkerchief. Here,I will…

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1898 · PDF PAGE 13

The Poem

110 MYSTERIES: and I am so little, it is so pure and I am so dull of un- derstanding. When I write I feel as it were the breath of an angel covering me with holiness, and I know— then! But now—I only write mechanically. I force myself. To-day I tore up all I wrote last night. ESME. | Let us ask God to send you the angel, shall we? [They kneel, with arms intertwined, at the open window, and bow their heads silently. Vaughan also prays, with arms outspread in blessing. Curtain. SCENE III. Six months later. The dining-room. Percy, Vaughan, Esmé at…

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1898 · PDF PAGE 15

The Poem

112 | MYSTERIES: BRANDON. That ’s where he is, youscoundrel. Out of the way, fool! [Kunocking John over, bursts the door open and enters.| There you are, you snivelling little swine. My God! to think that damned puppy’s my son! Come out of it! VAUGHAN [who has entered and rung the bellfor the servants}. I shall have you locked up for assaulting my servant. BRANDON. And you for abducting my son. He’s coming with me now or, there'll be a fuss.) Mark my words, you rascal. — : [Enter two Footmen. VAUGHAN. Seize that man. [Zhey sezze and hold him af…

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1898 · PDF PAGE 11

The Poem

108 MYSTERIES: PERCY. It is like your eyes. [Comes out into corridor.] Esmé! I have looked into your eyes as your eyes look into Heaven, and there I have found my Heaven. O serene depths! O faultless face of my desire! O white brow too clear! I sin against your holiness by my presence. Only the moon should see you, Esmé. ESME [half in tears]. . You don’t mean like that, Percy, quite. Why do you say that? Enter Vaughan in shadow. He draws back and .Stands watching. PERCY. Oh, you are crying, my heart! Do you cry because I have spoken and touched…

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1898 · PDF PAGE 19

The Poem

116 MYSTERIES: SCENE IV. The next morning. Esméin bed asleep. Enter Vaughan. VAUGHAN. OOR child, poor child, how are you? You have not slept, I know. Why, she is still asleep! Hush! How calmly and regularly she breathes! How fresh she looks! How she smiles! It is wonderful! It is impossible! Esmé! Esmé! it is a pity you cannot always sleep so, and never wake up to the cruel sorrow of yesterday. Ah me! When we all thought to be so happy. And in a month he would have married her: in a day he would have finished the poem. What a wonderful poem it …

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