than to deliver the people from a tyrant. So he
renounces his desires, and expiates the sin of being alive by retirement
from the world. But the interest of the act does not lie in this
anticipated _denouement_, which since _Parsifal_ has become rather
common; it lies in another scene, which has evidently been inserted at
the last moment, and which is uncomfortably out of tune with the action,
though in a singularly grand way. This scene gives us a dialogue between
Guntram and his former companion, Friedhold.[172]

[Footnote 172: Some people have tried to see Alexander Ritter's thoughts
in Friedhold, as they have seen Strauss's thoughts in Guntram.]

Friedhold had initiated him in former days, and he now comes to
reproach him for his crime, and to bring him before the Order, who will
judge him. In the original version of the poem Guntram complies, and
sacrifices his passion to his vow. But while Strauss had been travelling
in the East he had conceived a sudden horror for this Christian
annihilation of will, and Guntram revolts along with him, and refuses to
submit to the rules of his Order. He breaks his lute--a symbol of false
hope in the redemption of humanity through faith--and rouses himself
from the glorious dreams in which he used to believe, for he sees they
are shadows that are scattered by the light of real life. He does not
abjure his former vows; but he is not the same man he was when he made
them. While his experience was immature he was able to believe that a
man ought to submit himself to rules, and that life should be governed
by laws. A single hour has enlightened him. Now he is free and
alone--alone with his spirit. "I alone can lessen my suffering; I alone
can expiate my crime. Through myself alone God speaks to me; to me alone
God speaks. _Ewig einsam_." It is the proud awakening of individualism,
the powerful pessimism of the Super-man. Such an expression of feeling
gives the character of action to renouncement and even to negation
itself, for it is a strong affirmation of the will.

I have dwelt rather at length on this drama on account of the real value
of its thought and, above all, on account of what one may call its
autobiographical interest. It was at this time that Strauss's mind began
to take more definite form. His further experience will develop that
form still more, but without making any important change in it.

_Guntram_ was the cause of bitter disappointment to its author. He did
no