Home > Authors Index > August Strindberg > Road to Damascus: A Trilogy > This page
The Road to Damascus: A Trilogy, a play by August Strindberg |
||
Part 3 - Act 2 - Scene 1. Cross-Roads In The Mountains |
||
| < Previous |
Table of content |
Next > |
|
________________________________________________
_ PART III ACT II SCENE I. CROSS-ROADS IN THE MOUNTAINS [A cross-roads high up in the mountains. On the right, huts. On the left a small pool, round which invalids are sitting. Their clothes are blue and their hands cinnabar-red. From the pond blue vapour and small blue flames rise now and then. Whenever this happens the invalids put them hands to their mouths and cough. The background is formed by a mountain covered with pine-wood, which is obscured above by a stationary bank of mist.] [The STRANGER is sitting at a table outside one of the huts. The CONFESSOR comes forward from the right.] STRANGER. At last! CONFESSOR. What do you mean: at last? STRANGER. You left me here a week ago and told me to wait till you came back. CONFESSOR. Hadn't I prepared you for the fact that the way to the white house up there would be long and difficult. STRANGER. I don't deny it. How far have we come? CONFESSOR. Five hundred yards. We've still got fifteen hundred. STRANGER. But where's the sun? CONFESSOR. Up there, above the clouds.... STRANGER. Then we shall have to go through them? CONFESSOR. Yes. Of course. STRANGER. What are those patients doing there? What a company! And why are their hands so red? CONFESSOR. For both our sakes I want to avoid using impure words, so I'll speak in pleasant riddles, which you, as a writer, will understand. STRANGER. Yes. Speak beautifully. There's so much that's ugly here. CONFESSOR. You may have noticed that the signs given to the planets correspond with those of certain metals? Good! Then you'll have seen that Venus is represented by a mirror. This mirror was originally made of copper, so that copper was called Venus and bore her stamp. But now the reverse of Venus' mirror is covered with quicksilver or mercury! STRANGER. The reverse of Venus... is Mercury. Oh! CONFESSOR. Quicksilver is therefore the reverse side of Venus. Quicksilver is itself as bright as a calm sea, as a lake at the height of summer; but when mercury meets firestone and burns, it blushes and turns red like newly-shed blood, like the cloth on the scaffold, like the cinnabar lips of the whore! Do you understand now, or not? STRANGER. Wait a moment! Cinnabar is quicksilver and sulphur. CONFESSOR. Yes. Mercury must be burnt, if it comes too near to Venus! Have we said enough now? STRANGER. So these are sulphur springs? CONFESSOR. Yes. And the sulphur flames purify or burn everything rotten! So when the source of life's grown tainted, one is sent to the sulphur springs.... STRANGER. How does the source of life grow tainted? CONFESSOR. When Aphrodite, born of the pure seafoam, wallows in the mire.... When Aphrodite Urania, the heaven-born, degrades herself to Pandemos, the Venus of the streets. STRANGER. Why is desire born? CONFESSOR. Pure desire, to be satisfied; impure, to be stifled. STRANGER. What is pure, and what impure? CONFESSOR. Have you got back to that? STRANGER. Ask these men here.... CONFESSOR. Take care! (He looks at the STRANGER, who is unable to support his gaze.) STRANGER. You're choking me.... My chest.... CONFESSOR. Yes, I'll steal the air you use to form rebellious words, and ask outrageous questions. Sit down there, I'll come back--when you've learnt patience and undergone your probation. But don't forget that I can hear and see you, and am aware of you, wherever I may be! STRANGER. So I'm to be tested! I'm glad to know it! CONFESSOR. But you mustn't speak to the worshippers of Venus. (MAIA, an old woman, appears in the background.) STRANGER (rising in horror). Who am I meeting here after all this time? Who is it? CONFESSOR. Who are you speaking of? STRANGER. That old woman there? CONFESSOR. Who's she? STRANGER (calling). Maia! Listen! (Old Maia has disappeared. The STRANGER hurries after her.) Maia, my friend, listen! She's gone! CONFESSOR. Who was it? STRANGER (sitting down). O God! Now, when I find her again at last, she goes.... I've looked for her for seven long years, written letters, advertised.... CONFESSOR. Why? STRANGER. I'll tell you how her fate was linked to mine! (Pause.) Maia was the nurse in my first family... during those hard years... when I was fighting the Invisible Ones, who wouldn't bless my work! I wrote till my brain and nerves dissolved like fat in alcohol... but it wasn't enough! I was one of those who never could earn enough. And the day came when I couldn't pay the maids their wages--it was terrible--and I became the servant of my servant, and she became my mistress. At last... in order, at least, to save my soul, I fled from what was too powerful for me. I fled into the wilderness, where I collected my spirit in solitude and recovered my strength! My first thought then was--my debts! For seven years I looked for Maia, but in vain! For seven years I saw her shadow, out of the windows of trains, from the decks of steamers, in strange towns, in distant lands, but without ever being able to find her. I dreamed of her for seven years; and whenever I drank a glass of wine I blushed at the thought of old Maia, who perhaps was drinking water in a poorhouse! I tried to give the sum I owed her to the poor; but it was no use. And now--she's found and lost in the same moment! (He gets up and goes towards the back as if searching for her.) Explain this, if you can! I want to pay my debt; I can pay it now, but I'm not allowed to. CONFESSOR. Foolishness' Bow to what seems inexplicable; you'll see that the explanation will come later. Farewell! STRANGER. Later. Everything comes later. CONFESSOR. Yes. If it doesn't come at once! (He goes out. The LADY enters pensively and sits down at the table, opposite the STRANGER.) STRANGER. What? You back again? The same and not the same? How beautiful you've grown; as beautiful as you were the first time I ever saw you; when I asked if I might be your friend, your dog. LADY. That you can see beauty I don't possess shows that once more you have a mirror of beauty in your eye. The werewolf never thought me beautiful, for he'd nothing beautiful with which to see me. STRANGER. Why did you kiss me that day? What made you do it? LADY. You've often asked me that, and I've never been able to find the answer, because I don't know. But just now, when I was away from you, here in the mountains, where the air's purer and the sun nearer.... Hush! Now I can see that Sunday afternoon, when you sat on that seat like a lost and helpless child, with a broken look in your eyes, and stared at your own destiny.... A maternal feeling I'd never known before welled up in me then, and I was overcome with pity, pity for a human soul--so that I forgot myself. STRANGER. I'm ashamed. Now I believe it was so. LADY. But you took it another way. You thought... STRANGER. Don't tell me. I'm ashamed. LADY. Why did you think so badly of me? Didn't you notice that I drew down my veil; so that it was between us, like the knight's sword in the bridal bed.... STRANGER. I'm ashamed. I attributed my evil thoughts to you. Ingeborg, you were made of better stuff than I. I'm ashamed! LADY. Now you look handsome. How handsome! STRANGER. Oh no. Not I. You! LADY (ecstatically). No, you! Yes, now I've seen through the mask and the false beard. Now I can see the man you hid from me, the man I thought I'd found in you... the man I was always searching for. I've often thought you a hypocrite; but we're no hypocrites. No, no, we can't pretend. STRANGER. Ingeborg, now we're on the other side of the river, and have life beneath us, behind us... how different everything seems. Now, now, I can see your soul; the ideal, the angel, who was imprisoned in the flesh because of sin. So there is an Above, and an Earlier Age. When we began it wasn't the beginning, and it won't be the end when we are ended. Life is a fragment, without beginning or end! That's why it's so difficult to make head or tail of it. LADY (kindly). So difficult. So difficult. Tell me, for instance--now we're beyond guilt or innocence--how was it you came to hate women? STRANGER. Let me think! To hate women? Hate them? I never hated them. On the contrary! Ever since I was eight years old I've always had some love affair, preferably an innocent one. And I've loved like a volcano three times! But wait--I've always felt that women hated me... and they've always tortured me. LADY. How strange! STRANGER. Let me think about it a little.... Perhaps I've been jealous of my own personality; and been afraid of being influenced too much. My first love made herself into a sort of governess and nurse to me. But, of course, there _are_ men who detest children; who detest women too, if they're superior to them, that is! LADY (amiably). But you've called women the enemies of mankind. Did you mean it? STRANGER. Of course I meant it, if I wrote it! For I wrote out of experience, not theory.... In woman I sought an angel, who could lend me wings, and I fell into the arms of an earth-spirit, who suffocated me under mattresses stuffed with the feathers of wings! I sought an Ariel and I found a Caliban; when I wanted to rise she dragged me down; and continually reminded me of the fall.... LADY (kindly). Solomon knew much of women; do you know what he said? 'I find more bitter than death a woman, whose heart is snares and nets and her hands as bands; whoso pleaseth God shall escape from her; but the sinner shall be taken by her.' STRANGER. I was never acceptable in God's sight. Was that a punishment? Perhaps. But I was never acceptable to anyone, and I've never had a good word addressed to me! Have I never done a good action? Is it possible for a man never to have done anything good? (Pause.) It's terrible never to hear any good words about oneself! LADY. You've heard them. But when people have spoken well of you, you've refused to listen, as if it hurt you. STRANGER. That's true, now you remind me. But can you explain it? LADY. Explain it? You're always asking for explanations of the inexplicable. 'When I applied my heart to know wisdom... I beheld all the work of God, that a man cannot find out that is done under the sun. Because, though a man labour to seek it out, yet he shall not find it; yea, further, though a wise man think to know it, yet shall he not be able to find it!' STRANGER. Who says that? LADY. The Prophet Ecclesiastes. (She takes a doll out of her pocket.) This is Mizzi's doll. You see she longs for her little mistress! How pale she's grown... and she seems to know where Mizzi is, for she's always gazing up to heaven, whichever way I hold her. Look! Her eyes follow the stars as the compass the pole. She is my compass and always shows me where heaven is. She should, of course, be dressed in black, because she's in mourning; but we're so poor.... Do you know why we never had money? Because God was angry with us for our sins. 'The righteous suffer no dearth.' STRANGER. Where did you learn that? LADY. In a book in which everything's written. Everything! (She wraps the doll up in her cloak.) See, she's beginning to get cold--that's because of the cloud up there.... STRANGER. How can you dare to wander up here in the mountains? LADY. God is with me; so what have I to fear from human beings? STRANGER. Aren't you tormented by those people at the pool? LADY (turning towards them). I can't see them. I can't see anything horrible now. STRANGER. Ingeborg! I have made you evil, yet you're on the way to make me good! It was my dream, you know, to seek redemption through a woman. You don't believe it! But it's true. In the old days nothing was of value to me if I couldn't lay it at a woman's feet. Not as a tribute to an overbearing mistress,... but as a sacrifice to the beautiful and good. It was my pleasure to give; but she wanted to take and not receive: that's why she hated me! When I was helpless and thought the end was near, a desire grew in me to fall asleep on a mother's knee, on a tremendous breast where I could bury my tired head and drink in the tenderness I'd been deprived of. LADY. You had no mother? STRANGER. Hardly! And I've never felt any bond between myself and my father or my brothers and sisters.... Ingeborg, I was the son of a servant of whom it is written. 'Drive forth the handmaid with her son, for this son shall not inherit with the son of peace.' LADY. Do you know why Ishmael was driven out? It says just before--that he was a scoffer. And then it goes on: 'He will be a wild man, his hand will be against every man, and every man's hand against him; and against all his brothers.' STRANGER. Is that also written? LADY. Oh yes, my child; it's all there! STRANGER. All? LADY. All. There you'll find answers to all your questions even the most inquisitive! STRANGER. Call me your child, and then I'll love you.... And if I love anyone, I long to serve them, to obey them, to let myself be ill-treated, to suffer and to bear it. LADY. You shouldn't love me, but your Creator. STRANGER. He's unfriendly--like my father! LADY. He is Love itself; and you are Hate. STRANGER. You're his daughter; but I'm his cast-out son. LADY (coaxingly). Quiet! Be still! STRANGER. If you only knew what I've suffered this last week. I don't know where I am. LADY. Where do you think? STRANGER. There's a woman in that but who looks at me as if I'd come to rob her of her last mite. She says nothing--that's the trouble. But I think it's prayers she mutters, when she sees me. LADY. What sort of prayers? STRANGER. The sort one whispers behind the backs of those who have the evil eye or bring misfortune. LADY. How strange! Don't you realise that one's sight can be blinded? STRANGER. Yes, of course. But who can do it? HOSTESS (coming across to their table). Well, look at that! I suppose she's your sister? STRANGER. Yes. We can say so now. HOSTESS (to the LADY). Fancy meeting someone I can speak to at last! This gentleman's so silent, you see, that one feels at once one must respect him; particularly as he seems to have had trouble. But I can say this to his sister, and he shall hear it: that from the moment he entered the house I felt that I was blessed. I'd been dogged by misfortune; I'd no lodger, my only cow had died, my husband was in a home for drunkards and my children had nothing to eat. I prayed God to send me help from heaven, because I expected nothing more on earth. Then this gentleman came. And apart from giving me double what I asked, he brought me good luck--and my house was blessed. God bless you, good sir! STRANGER (getting up excitedly). Silence, woman. That's blasphemy! LADY. He won't believe. O God! He won't believe. Look at me! STRANGER. When I look at you, I do believe. She's giving me her blessing! And I, who'm damned, have brought a blessing on her! How can I believe it? I, of all men! (He falls down by the table and weeps in his hands.) LADY. He's weeping! Tears, rain from heaven, that can soften rocks, are falling on his stony heart.... He's weeping! HOSTESS. He? Who has a heart of gold! Who's been so open handed and so good to my children! LADY. You hear what she says! HOSTESS. There's only one thing about him I don't understand; but I don't want to say anything unpleasant.... LADY. What is it? HOSTESS. Only a trifle; and yet... LADY. Well? HOSTESS. He didn't like my dogs. LADY. I can't blame him for not caring for an impure beast. I hate everything animal, in myself and others. I don't hate animals on that account, for I hate nothing that's created.... STRANGER. Thank you, Ingeborg! LADY. You see! I've an eye for your merits, even though you don't believe it.... Here comes the Confessor. (The CONFESSOR enters.) HOSTESS. Then I'll go; for the Confessor has no love for me. LADY. The Confessor loves all mankind. CONFESSOR (coming forward and speaking to the LADY). You best of all, my child; for you're goodness itself. Whether you're beautiful to look at, I can't see; but I know you must be, because you're good. Yes, you were the bride of my youth, and my spiritual mate; and you'll always be so, for you gave me what you were never able to give to others. I've lived your life in my spirit, suffered your pains, enjoyed your pleasures--pleasure rather, for you'd no others than what your child gave you. I alone have seen the beauty of your soul--my friend here has divined it; that's why he felt attracted to you--but the evil in him was too strong; you had to draw it out of him into yourself to free him. Then, being evil, you had to suffer the worst pains of hell for his sake, to bring atonement. Your work's ended. You can go in peace! LADY. Where? CONFESSOR. Up there. Where the sun's always shining. LADY (rising). Is there a home for me there, too? CONFESSOR. There's a home for everyone! I'll show you the way. (He goes with her into the background. The STRANGER makes a movement.) You're impatient? You mustn't be! (He goes out. The STRANGER remains sitting alone. The WORSHIPPERS OF VENUS get up, go towards him and form a circle round him.) STRANGER. What do you want with me? WORSHIPPERS. Hail! Father. STRANGER (much upset). Why call me that? FIRST VOICE. Because we're your children. Your dear ones! STRANGER (tries to escape, but is surrounded and cannot). Let me go. Let me go! SECOND VOICE (that of a pale youth). Don't you recognise me, Father? TEMPTER (appearing in the background at the left-hand fork of the path). Ha! STRANGER (to the Second Voice). Who are you? I seem to know your face. SECOND VOICE. I'm Erik--your son! STRANGER. Erik! You here? SECOND VOICE. Yes. I'm here. STRANGER. God have mercy! And you, my boy, forgive me! SECOND VOICE. Never! You showed us the way to the sulphur springs! Is it far to the lake? (The STRANGER falls to the ground.) TEMPTER. Ha! Jubilate, temptatores! VENUS WORSHIPPERS. Sulphur! Sulphur! Sulphur! Mercury! TEMPTER (coming forward and touching the STRANGER with his foot). The worm! You can make him believe whatever you like. That comes from his unbelievable pride. Does he think he's the mainspring of the universe, the originator of all evil? This foolish man believes he taught youth to go in search of Venus; as if youth hadn't done that long before he was born! His pride's insupportable, and he's been rash enough to try to botch my work for me. Give him another greeting, lying Erik! (The SECOND VOICE--that is the youth--bends over the STRANGER and whispers in his ear.) There were seven deadly sins; but now there are eight. The eighth I discovered! It's called despair. For to despair of what is good, and not to hope for forgiveness, is to call... (He hesitates before pronouncing the word God, as if it burnt his lips.) God wicked. That is calumny, denial, blasphemy.... Look how he winces! STRANGER (rising quickly, and looking the TEMPTER to the eyes). Who are you? TEMPTER. Your brother. Don't we resemble one another? Some of your features seem to remind me of my portrait. STRANGER. Where have I seen it? TEMPTER. Almost everywhere! I'm often to be found in churches, though not amongst the saints. STRANGER. I can't remember.... TEMPTER. Is it so long since you've been to church? I'm usually represented with St. George. (The STRANGER totters and would like to fly, but cannot.) Michael and I are sometimes to be seen in a group, in which, to be sure, I don't appear in the most favourable light; but that can be altered. All can be altered; and one day the last shall be first. It's just the same in your case. For the moment, things are going badly with you, but that can be altered too... if you've enough intelligence to change your company. You've had too much to do with skirts, my son. Skirts raise dust, and dust lies on eyes and breast.... Come and sit down. We'll have a chat.... (He takes the STRANGER jocularly by the ear and leads him round the table.) Sit down and tremble, young man! (They both sit down.) Well? What shall we do? Call for wine--and a woman? No! That's too old a trick, as old as Doctor Faust! Bon! We modern are in search of mental dissipation.... So you're on your way to those holy men up there, who think that they who sleep can't sin; to the cowardly ones, who've given up the battle of life, because they were defeated once or twice; to those that bind souls rather than free them.... And talking of that! Has any saintly man ever freed you from the burden of sin? No! Do you know why sin has been oppressing you for so long? Through renunciation and abstinence, you've grown so weak that anyone can seize your soul and take possession of it. Why, they can even do it from a distance! You've so destroyed your personality that you see with strange eyes, hear with strange ears and think strange thoughts. In a word you've murdered your own soul. Just now, didn't you speak well of the enemies of mankind; of Woman, who made a hell of paradise? You needn't answer me; I can read your answer in your eyes and hear it on your lips. You talk of pure love for a woman! That's lust, young man, lust after a woman, which we have to pay for so dearly. You say you don't desire her. Then why do you want to be near her? You'd like to have a friend? Take a male friend, many of them! You've let them convince you you're no woman hater. But the woman gave you the right answer; every healthy man's a woman hater, but can't live without linking himself to his enemy, and so must fight her! All perverse and unmanly men are admirers of women! How's it with you now? So you saw those invalids and thought yourself responsible for their misery? They're tough fellows, you can believe me; they'll be able to leave here in a few days and go back to their occupations. Oh yes, lying Erik's a wag! But things have gone so far with you, that you can't distinguish between your own and other people's children. Wouldn't it be a great thing to escape from all this? What do you say? Oh, I could free you... but I'm no saint. Now we'll call old Maia. (He whistles between his fingers: MAIA appears.) Ah, there you are! Well, what are you doing here? Have you any business with this fellow? MAIA. No. He's good and always was; but he'd a terrible wife. TEMPTER (to the STRANGER). Listen! You've not heard that yet, have you? Rather the opposite. She was the good angel, whom you ruined... we've all been told that! Now, old Maia, what kind of story is it he prattles of? He says he was plagued with remorse for seven years because he owed you money. MAIA. He owed me a small sum once; but I got it back from him--and with good interest--much better than the savings bank would have given me. It was very good of him--very kind. STRANGER (starting up). What's that you said? Is it possible I've forgotten? TEMPTER. Have you the receipt, Maia? If so, give it me. MAIA. The gentleman must have the receipt; but I've got the savings bank book here. He paid the money into it in my name. (She produces a savings bank book, and hands it to the STRANGER, who looks at it.) STRANGER. Yes, that's quite right. Now I remember. Then why this seven-year torment, shame and disgrace? Those reproaches during sleepless nights? Why? Why? Why? TEMPTER. Old Maia, you can go now. But first say something nice about this self-tormentor. Can't you remember any human quality in this wild beast, whom human beings have baited for years? STRANGER (to MAIA). Quiet, don't answer him! (He stops his ears with his fingers.) TEMPTER. Well, Maia? MAIA. I know well enough what they say about him, but that refers to what he writes--and I've not read it for I can't read. Still, no one need read it, if they don't want to. Anyhow the gentleman's been very kind. Now he's stopping his ears. I don't know how to flatter; but I can say this in a whisper.... (She whispers some thing to the TEMPTER.) TEMPTER. Yes. All human beings who are easily moved are baited like wild beasts! It's the rule. Good bye, old Maia! MAIA. Good-bye, kind gentlemen. (She goes out.) STRANGER. Why did I suffer innocently for seven years? TEMPTER (pointing upwards with one finger). Ask up there! STRANGER. Where I never get an answer! TEMPTER. Well, that may be. (Pause.) Do you think _I_ look good? STRANGER. I can't say I do. TEMPTER. You look extremely wicked, too! Do you know why we look like that? STRANGER. No. TEMPTER. The hate and malice of our fellow human beings have fastened themselves on us. Up there, you know, there are real saints, who've never done anything wicked themselves, but who suffer for others, for relations, who've committed unexpiated sins. Those angels, who've taken the depravity of others on themselves, really resemble bandits. What do you say to that? STRANGER. I don't know who you are; but you're the first to answer questions that might reconcile me to life. You are.... TEMPTER. Well, say it! STRANGER. The deliverer! TEMPTER. And therefore....? STRANGER. Therefore you've been given a vulture.... But listen, have you ever thought that there's as good a reason for this as for everything else? Granted the earth's a prison, on which dangerous prisoners are confined--is it a good thing to set them free? Is it right? TEMPTER. What a question! I've never really thought about it. Hm! STRANGER. And have you ever thought of this: we may be born in guilt? TEMPTER. That's nothing to do with me: I concern myself with the present. STRANGER. Good! Don't you think we're sometimes punished wrongly, so that we fail to see the logical connection, though it exists? TEMPTER. Logic's not missing; but all life's a tissue of offences, mistakes, errors, that are comparatively blameless owing to human weakness, but that are punished by the most consistent revenge. Everything's revenged, even our injudicious actions. Who forgives? A magnanimous man-sometimes; heavenly justice, never! (A PILGRIM appears in the background.) See! A penitent! I'd like to know what wrong he's done. We'll ask him. Welcome to our quiet meadows, peaceful wanderer! Take your place at the simple table of the ascetic, at which there are no more temptations. PILGRIM. Thank you, fellow traveller in the vale of woe. TEMPTER. What kind of woe is yours? PILGRIM. None in particular; on the contrary, the hour of liberation's struck, and I'm going up there to receive absolution. STRANGER. Listen, haven't we two met before? PILGRIM. I think so, certainly. STRANGER. Caesar! You're Caesar! PILGRIM. I used to be; but I am no longer. TEMPTER. Ha ha! Imperial acquaintance. Really! But tell us, tell us! PILGRIM. You shall hear. Now I've a right to speak, for my penance is at an end. When we met at a certain doctor's house, I was shut up there as a madman and supposed to be suffering from the illusion that I was Caesar. Now the Stranger shall hear the truth of the matter: I never believed it, but I was forced by scruples of conscience to put a good face on it.... A friend of mine, a bad friend, had written proof that I was the victim of a misunderstanding; but he didn't speak when he should have, and I took his silence as a request not to speak either-and to suffer. Why did I? Well, in my youth I was once in great need. I was received as a guest in a house on an island far out to sea by a man who, in spite of unusual gifts, had been passed over for promotion--owing to his senseless pride. This man, by solitary brooding on his lot, had come to hold quite extraordinary views about himself. I noticed it, but I said nothing. One day this man's wife told me that he was sometimes mentally unbalanced; and then thought he was Julius Caesar. For many years I kept this secret conscientiously, for I'm not ungrateful by nature. But life's tricky. It happened a few years later that this Caesar laid rough hands on my most intimate fate. In anger at this I betrayed the secret of his Caesar mania and made my erstwhile benefactor such a laughing stock, that his existence became unbearable to him. And now listen how Nemesis overtakes one! A year later I wrote a book-I am, you must know, an author who's not made his name.... And in this book I described incidents of family life: how I played with my daughter--she was called Julia, as Caesar's daughter was--and with my wife, whom we called Caesar's wife because no one spoke evil of her.... Well, this recreation, in which my mother-in-law joined too, cost me dear. When I was looking through the proofs of my book, I saw the danger and said to myself: you'll trip yourself up. I wanted to cut it out but, if you'll believe it, the pen refused, and an inner voice said to me: let it stand! It did stand! And I fell. STRANGER. Why didn't you publish the letter from your friend that would have explained everything? PILGRIM. When the disaster had happened I felt at once that it was the finger of God, and that I must suffer for my ingratitude. STRANGER. And you did suffer? PILGRIM. Not at all! I smiled to myself and wouldn't let myself be put out. And because I accepted my punishment with calmness and humility God lightened my burden; and I didn't feel myself ridiculous. TEMPTER. That's a strange story; but such things happen. Shall we move on now? We'll go for an excursion, now we've weathered the storms. Pull yourself up by the roots, and then we'll climb the mountain. STRANGER. The Confessor told me to wait for him. TEMPTER. He'll find you, anyhow! And up here in the village the court's sitting to-day. A particularly interesting case is to be tried; and I dare say I'll be called as a witness. Come! STRANGER. Well, whether I sit here, or up there, is all the same to me. PILGRIM (to the STRANGER). Who's that? STRANGER. I don't know. He looks like an anarchist. PILGRIM. Interesting, anyhow! STRANGER. He's a sceptical gentleman, who's seen life. TEMPTER. Come, children; I'll tell you stories on the way. Come. Come! (They go out towards the background.) [Curtain.] _ |
||