[The room in which the banquet took place in Act III. It is dirty, and furnished with unpainted wooden tables. Beggars, scavengers and loose women. Cripples are seated here and there drinking by the light of tallow dips.]

[The STRANGER and the SECOND WOMAN are sitting together drinking brandy, which stands on the table in front of them in a carafe. The STRANGER is drinking heavily.]

WOMAN. Don't drink so much!

STRANGER. You see. You've scruples, too!

WOMAN. No. But I don't like to see a man I respect lowering himself so.

STRANGER. But I came here specially to do so; to take a mud-bath that would harden my skin against the pricks of life. To find immoral support about me. And I chose your company, because you're the most despicable, though you've still retained a spark of humanity. You were sorry for me, when no one else was. Not even myself! Why?

WOMAN. Really, I don't know.

STRANGER. But you must know that there are moments when you look almost beautiful.

WOMAN. Oh, listen to him!

STRANGER. Yes. And then you resemble a woman who was dear to me.

WOMAN. Thank you!

WAITRESS. Don't talk so loud, there's a sick man here.

STRANGER. Tell me, have you ever been in love?

WOMAN. We don't use that word, but I know what you mean. Yes. I had a lover once and we had a child.

STRANGER. That was foolish!

WOMAN. I thought so, too, but he said the days liberation were at hand, when all chains would be struck off, all barriers thrown down, and...

STRANGER (tortured). And then...?

WOMAN. Then he left me.

STRANGER. He was a scoundrel. (He drinks.)

WOMAN (looking at him.) You think so?

STRANGER. Yes. He must have been.

WOMAN. Now you're so intolerant.

STRANGER (drinking). Am I?

WOMAN. Don't drink so much; I want to see you far above me, otherwise you can't raise me up.

STRANGER. What illusions you must have! Childish! I lift you up! I who am down below. Yet I'm not; it's not I who sit here, for I'm dead. I know that my soul's far away, far, far away.... (He stares in front of him with an absent-minded air)... where a great lake lies in the sunshine like molten gold; where roses blossom on the wall amongst the vines; where a white cot stands under the acacias. But the child's asleep and the mother's sitting beside the cot doing crochet work. There's a long, long strip coming from her mouth and on the strip is written... wait... 'Blessed are the sorrowful, for they shall be comforted.' But that's not so, really. I shall never be comforted. Tell me, isn't there thunder in the air, it's so close, so hot?

WOMAN (looking out of the window). No. I can see no clouds out there....

STRANGER. Strange... that's lightning.

WOMAN. No. You're wrong.

STRANGER. One, two, three, four, five... now the thunder must come! But it doesn't. I've never been frightened of a thunderstorm until to-day—I mean, until to-night. But is it day or night?

WOMAN. My dear, it's night.

STRANGER. Yes. It is night.

(The DOCTOR has come in during this scene and has sat down behind the STRANGER, without having been seen by him.)

WAITRESS. Don't speak so loud, there's a sick person in here.

STRANGER (to the WOMAN). Give me your hand.

WOMAN (wiping it on her apron). Oh, why?

STRANGER. You've a lovely white hand. But... look at mine. It's black. Can't you see it's black?

WOMAN. Yes. So it is!

STRANGER. Blackened already, perhaps even rotten? I must see if my heart's stopped. (He puts his hand to his heart.) Yes. It has! So I'm dead, and I know when I died. Strange, to be dead, and yet to be going about. But where am I? Are all these people dead, too? They look as if they'd risen from the sewers of the town, or as if they'd come from prison, poorhouse or lock hospital. They're workers of the night, suffering, groaning, cursing, quarrelling, torturing one another, dishonouring one another, envying one another, as if they possessed anything worthy of envy! The fire of sleep courses through their veins, their tongues cleave to their palates, grown dry through cursing; and then they put out the blaze with water, with fire-water, that engenders fresh thirst. With fire-water, that itself burns with a blue flame and consumes the soul like a prairie fire, that leaves nothing behind it but red sand. (He drinks.) Set fire to it. Put it out again. Set fire to it. Put it out again! But what you can't burn up—unluckily—is the memory of what's past. How can that memory be burned to ashes?

WAITRESS. Please don't speak so loud, there's a sick man in here. So ill, that he's already asked to be given the sacrament.

STRANGER. May he soon go to hell!

(Those present murmur at this, resenting it.)

WAITRESS. Take care! Take care!

WOMAN (to the STRANGER). Do you know that man who's been sitting behind you, staring at you all the time?

STRANGER (turning. He and the DOCTOR stare at one another for a moment, without speaking). Yes. I used to know him once.

WOMAN. He looks as if he'd like to bite you in the back.

(The DOCTOR sits down opposite the STRANGER and stares at him.)

STRANGER. What are you looking at?

DOCTOR. Your grey hairs.

STRANGER (to the WOMAN). Is my hair grey?

WOMAN. Yes. Indeed it is!

DOCTOR. And now I'm looking at your fair companion. Sometimes you have good taste. Sometimes not.

STRANGER. And sometimes you have the misfortune to have the same taste as I.

DOCTOR. That wasn't a kind remark! But you've killed me twice in your lifetime; so go on.

STRANGER (to the WOMAN). Let's get away from here.

DOCTOR. You know when I'm near you. You feel my presence from afar. And I shall reach you, as the thunder will, whether you hide in the depths of the earth or of the sea.... Try to escape me, if you can!

STRANGER (to the WOMAN). Come with me. Lead me... I can't see....

WOMAN. No, I don't want to go yet. I don't want to be bored.

DOCTOR. You're right there, daughter of joy! Life's hard enough without taking on yourself the sorrows others have brought on themselves. That man won't bear his own sorrows, but makes his wife shoulder the burden for him.

STRANGER. What's that? Wait! She bore false witness of a breach of the peace and attempted murder!

DOCTOR. Now he's putting the blame on her!

STRANGER (resting his head in his hands and letting it sink on to the table. In the far distance a violin and guitar are heard playing the following melody):

[See picture road1.jpg]

DOCTOR (to the WOMAN). Is he ill?

WOMAN. He must be mad; he says he's dead.

(In the distance drums beat the reveille and bugles are blown, but very softly.)

STRANGER. Is it morning? Night's passing, the sun's rising and ghosts lie down to sleep again in graves. Now I can go. Come!

WOMAN (going nearer to the DOCTOR). No. I said no.

STRANGER. Even you, the last of all my friends! Am I such a wretched being, that not even a prostitute will bear me company for money?

DOCTOR. You must be.

STRANGER. I don't believe it yet; although everyone tells me so. I don't believe anything at all, for every time I have, I've been deceived. But tell me this hasn't the sun yet risen? A little while ago I heard a cock crow and a dog bark; and now they're ringing the Angelus.... Have they put out the lights, that it's so dark?

DOCTOR (to the WOMAN). He must be blind.

WOMAN. Yes. I think he is.

STRANGER. No. I can see you; but I can't see the lights.

DOCTOR. For you it's growing dark.... You've played with the lightning, and looked too long at the sun. That is forbidden to men.

STRANGER. We're born with the desire to do it; but may not. That's Envy....

DOCTOR. What do you possess that's worthy of envy?

STRANGER. Something you'll never understand, and that only I can value.

DOCTOR. You mean, the child?

MANGER. You know I didn't mean it. If I had I'd have said that I possessed something you could never let.

DOCTOR. So you're back at that! Then I'll express myself as clearly: you took what I'd done with.

WOMAN. Oh! I shan't stay in the company of such swine! (She gets up and moves to another seat.)

STRANGER. I know we've sunk very low; yet I believe the deeper I sink the nearer I'll come to my goal: the end!

WAITRESS. Don't speak so loud, there's a dying man in there!

STRANGER. Yes, I believe you. The whole time there's been a smell of corpses here.

DOCTOR. Perhaps that's us?

STRANGER. Can one be dead, without suspecting it?

DOCTOR. The dead maintain that they don't know the difference.

STRANGER. You terrify me. Is it possible? And all these shadowy figures, whose faces I think I recognise as memories of my youth at school in the swimming bath, the gymnasium.... (He clutches his heart.) Oh! Now he's coming: the Terrible One, who tears the heart out of the breast. The Terrible One, who's been following me for years. He's here!

(He is beside himself. The doors are thrown open; a choir boy comes in carrying a lantern made of blue glass that throws a blue light on the guests; he rings the silver bell. All present begin to howl like wild beasts. The DOMINICAN then enters with the sacrament. The WAITRESS and the WOMAN throw themselves on their knees, the others howl. The DOMINICAN raises the monstrance; all fall on their knees. The choir boy and the DOMINICAN go into the room on the left.)

BEGGAR (entering and going towards the STRANGER). Come away from here. You're ill. And the bailiffs have a summons for you.

STRANGER. Summons? From whom?

BEGGAR. Your wife.

DOCTOR. The electric eel strikes at a great distance. She once wanted to bring a charge of slander against me, because she couldn't stay out at night.

STRANGER. Couldn't stay out at night?

DOCTOR. Yes. Didn't you know who you were married to?

STRANGER. I heard she'd been engaged before she... married you.

DOCTOR. Yes. That's what it was called, but in reality she'd been the mistress of a married man, whom she denounced for rape, after she'd forced herself into his studio and posed to him naked, as a model.

STRANGER. And that was the woman you married?

DOCTOR. Yes. After she'd seduced me, she denounced me for breach of promise, so I had to marry her. She'd engaged two detectives to see I didn't get away. And that was the woman you married!

STRANGER. I did it because I soon saw it was no good choosing when all were alike.

BEGGAR. Come away from here. You'll be sorry if you don't.

STRANGER (to the DOCTOR). Was she always religious?

DOCTOR. Always.

STRANGER. And tender, good-hearted, self-sacrificing?

DOCTOR. Certainly!

STRANGER. Can one understand her?

DOCTOR. No. But you can go mad thinking about her. That's why one had to accept her as she was. Charming, intoxicating!

STRANGER. Yes, I know. But one's powerless against pity. That's why I don't want to fight this case. I can't defend myself without attacking her; and I don't want to do that.

DOCTOR. You were married before. How was that?

STRANGER. Just the same.

DOCTOR. This love acts like henbane: you see suns, where there are none, and stars where no stars are! But it's pleasant, while it lasts!

STRANGER. And the morning after? Oh, the morning after!

BEGGAR. Come, unhappy man! He's poisoning you, and you don't know it. Come!

STRANGER (getting up). Poisoning me, you say? Do you think he's lying?

BEGGAR. Every word he's said's a lie.

STRANGER. I don't believe it.

BEGGAR. No. You only believe lies. But that serves you right.

STRANGER. Has he been lying? Has he?

BEGGAR. How can you believe your enemies?

STRANGER. But he's my friend, because he's told me the bitter truth.

BEGGAR. Eternal Powers, save his reason! For he believes everything evil's true, and everything good evil. Come, or you'll be lost!

DOCTOR. He's lost already! And now he'll be whipped into froth, broken up into atoms, and used as an ingredient in the great pan-cake. Away with you hell! (To those present.) Howl like victims of the pit. (The guests all howl.) And no more womanly pity. Howl, woman! (The WOMAN refuses with a gesture of her hand.)

STRANGER (to the BEGGAR). That man's not lying.

Curtain.

SCENE II IN A RAVINE

[A ravine with a stream in the middle, which is crossed by a foot-bridge. In the foreground a smithy and a mill, both of which are in ruins. Fallen trees choke the stream. In the background a starry sky above the pine wood. The constellation of Orion is clearly visible.]

[See picture road2.jpg]

[The STRANGER and the BEGGAR enter. In the foreground there is snow; in the background the green of summer.]

STRANGER. I feel afraid! To-night the stars seem to hang so low, that I fear they'll fall on me like drops of molten silver. Where are we?

BEGGAR. In the ravine, by the stream. You must know the place.

STRANGER. Know it? As if I could ever forget it! It reminds me of my honeymoon journey. But where are the smithy and the mill?

BEGGAR. All in ruins! The lake of tears was drained a week ago. The stream rose, then the river, till everything was laid waste—meadows, fields and gardens.

STRANGER. And the quiet house?

BEGGAR. The old sin was washed away, but the walls in left.

STRANGER. And those who lived there?

BEGGAR. They've gone to the colonies; so that the story's now at an end.

STRANGER. Then my story's at an end too. So thoroughly at an end, that no happy memories remain. The last was fouled by the poisoner....

BEGGAR. Whose poison you prepared! You should declare your bankruptcy.

STRANGER. Yes. Now I'll have to give in.

BEGGAR. Then the day of reckoning will draw near.

STRANGER. I think we might call it quits; because, if I've sinned, I've been punished.

BEGGAR. But others certainly won't think so.

STRANGER. I've stopped taking account of others, since I saw that the Powers that guide the destinies of mankind brook no accomplices. The crime I committed in this life was that I wanted to set men free....

BEGGAR. Set men free from their duties, and criminals from their feeling of guilt, so that they could really become unscrupulous! You're not the first, and not the last to dabble in the Devil's work. Lucifer a non lucendo! But when Reynard grows old, he turns monk—so wisely is it ordained—and then he's forced to split himself in two and drive out Beelzebub with his own penance.

STRANGER. Shall I be driven to that?

BEGGAR. Yes. Though you don't want it! You'll be forced to preach against yourself from the housetops. To unpick your fabric thread by thread. To flay yourself alive at every street corner, and show what you really are. But that needs courage. All the same, a man who's played with the thunder will not tremble! Yet, sometimes, when night falls and the Invisible Ones, who can only be seen in darkness, ride on his chest, then he will fear—even the stars, and most of all the Mill of Sins, that grinds the past, and grinds it... and grinds it! One of the seven-and-seventeen Wise Men said that the greatest victory he ever won was over himself; but foolish men don't believe it, and that's why they're deceived; because they only credit what nine-and-ninety fools have said a thousand times.

STRANGER. Enough! Tell me; isn't this snow here on the ground?

BEGGAR. Yes. It's winter here.

STRANGER. But over there it's green.

BEGGAR. It's summer there.

STRANGER. And growing light! (A clear beam of light falls on the foot-bridge.)

BEGGAR. Yes. It's light there, and dark here.

STRANGER. And who are they? (Three children, dressed is summer clothing, two girls and a boy, come on to the bridge from the right.) Ho! My children! (The children stop to listen, and then look at the STRANGER without seeming to recognise him. The STRANGER calls.) Gerda! Erik! Thyra! It's your father! (The children appear to recognise him; they turn away to the left.) They don't know me. They don't want to know me.

(A man and a woman enter from the right. The children dance of to the left and disappear. The STRANGER falls on his face on the ground.)

BEGGAR. Something like that was to be expected. Such things happen. Get up again!

STRANGER (raising himself up). Where am I? Where have I been? Is it spring, winter or summer? In what century am I living, in what hemisphere? Am I a child or an old man, male or female, a god or a devil? And who are you? Are you, you; or are you me? Are those my own entrails that I see about me? Are those stars or bundles of nerves in my eye; is that water, or is it tears? Wait! Now I'm moving forward in time for a thousand years, and beginning to shrink, to grow heavier and to crystallise! Soon I'll be re-created, and from the dark waters of Chaos the Lotus flower will stretch up her head towards the sun and say: it is I! I must have been sleeping for a few thousand years; and have dreamed I'd exploded and become ether, and could no longer feel, no longer suffer, no longer be joyful; but had entered into peace and equilibrium. But now! Now! I suffer as much as if I were all mankind. I suffer and have no right to complain....

BEGGAR. Then suffer, and the more you suffer the earlier pain will leave you.

STRANGER. No. Mine are eternal sufferings....

BEGGAR. And only a minute's passed.

STRANGER. I can't bear it.

BEGGAR. Then you must look for help.

STRANGER. What's coming now? Isn't it the end yet?

(It grows light above the bridge. CAESAR comes in and throws himself from the parapet; then the DOCTOR appears on the right, with bare head and a wild look. He behaves as if he would throw himself into the stream too.)

STRANGER. He's revenged himself so thoroughly, that he awakes no qualms of conscience! (The DOCTOR goes out, left. The SISTER enters, right, as if searching for someone.) Who's that?

BEGGAR. His unmarried sister, who's unprovided for, and has now no home to go to. She's grown desperate since her brother was driven out of his wits by sorrow and went to pieces.

STRANGER. That's a harder fate. Poor creature, what can one do? Even if I felt her sufferings, would that help her?

BEGGAR. No. It wouldn't.

STRANGER. Why do qualms of conscience come after, and not beforehand? Can you help me over that?

BEGGAR. No. No one can. Let us go on.

STRANGER. Where to?

BEGGAR. Come with me.

Curtain.

SCENE III THE 'ROSE' ROOM

[The LADY, dressed in white, is sitting by the cradle doing crochet work. The green dress is hanging up by the door on the right. The STRANGER comes in, and looks round in astonishment.]

LADY (simply, mildly, without a trace of surprise). Tread softly and come here, if you'd see something lovely.

STRANGER. Where am I?

LADY. Quiet! Look at the little stranger who came when you were away.

STRANGER. They told me the river had risen and swept everything off.

LADY. Why do you believe everything you're told? The river did rise, but this little creature has someone who protects both her and hers. Wouldn't you like to see your daughter? (The STRANGER goes towards the cradle. The LADY lifts the curtain.) She's lovely! Isn't she? (The STRANGER gazes darkly in front of him.) Won't you look?

STRANGER. Everything's poisoned. Everything!

LADY. Well, perhaps!

STRANGER. Do you know that he has lost his wits and is wandering in the neighbourhood, followed by his sister, who's searching for him? He's penniless, and drinking....

LADY. Oh, my God!

STRANGER. Why don't you reproach me?

LADY. You'll reproach yourself enough: I'd rather give you good advice. Go to the Convent of St. Saviour's, there you'll find a man who can free you from the evil you fear.

STRANGER. What, in the convent, where they curse and bind?

LADY. And deliver also!

STRANGER. Frankly, I think you're trying to deceive me; I don't trust you any more.

LADY. Nor I, you! So look on this as your farewell visit.

STRANGER. That was my intention; but first I wanted to find out if we're of the same mind....

LADY. You see, we can build no happiness on the sorrows of others; so we must part. That's the only way to lessen his sufferings. I have my child, who'll fill my life for me; and you have the great goal of your ambition....

STRANGER. Will you still mock me?

LADY. No, why? You've solved the great problem.

STRANGER. Be quiet! No more of that, even if you believe it.

LADY. But if all the rest believe it too....

STRANGER. No one believes it now.

LADY. It says in the paper to-day that gold's been made in England. That it's been proved possible.

STRANGER. You've been deceived.

LADY. No! Oh, heaven, he won't believe his own good fortune.

STRANGER. I no longer believe anything.

LADY. Get the newspaper from the pocket of my dress over there.

STRANGER. The green witch's dress, that laid a spell on me one Sunday afternoon, between the inn and the church door! That'll bring no good.

LADY (fetching the paper herself and also a large parcel that is in the pocket of the dress). See for yourself.

STRANGER (tearing up the paper). No need for me to look!

LADY. He won't believe it. He won't. Yet the chemists want to give a banquet in your honour next Saturday.

STRANGER. Is that in the paper too? About the banquet?

LADY (handing him the packet). And here's the diploma of honour. Read it!

STRANGER (tearing up the packet). Perhaps there's a Government Order too!

LADY. Those whom the gods would destroy they first make blind! You made your discovery with no good intentions, and therefore you weren't permitted to be the only one to succeed.

STRANGER. Now I shall go. For I won't stay here and lay bare my shame! I've become a laughing-stock, so I'll go and hide myself—bury myself alive, because I don't dare to die.

LADY. Then go! We start for the colonies in a few days.

STRANGER. That's frank at least! Perhaps we're nearing a solution.

LADY. Of the riddle: why we had to meet?

STRANGER. Why did we have to?

LADY. To torture one another.

STRANGER. Is that all?

LADY. You thought you could save me from a werewolf, who really was no such thing, and so you become one yourself. And then I was to save you from evil by taking all the evil in you on myself, and I did so; but the result was that you only became more evil. My poor deliverer! Now you're bound hand and foot and no magician can set you free.

STRANGER. Farewell, and thank you for all you've done.

LADY. Farewell, and thank you... for this! (She points to the cradle.)

STRANGER (going towards the back). First perhaps I ought to take my leave in there.

LADY. Yes, my dear. Do!

(The STRANGER goes out through the door at the back. The LADY crosses to the door on the right and lets in the DOMINICAN—who is also the BEGGAR.)

CONFESSOR. Is he ready now?

LADY. Nothing remains for this unhappy man but to leave the world and bury himself in a monastery.

CONFESSOR. So he doesn't believe he's the great inventor he undoubtedly is?

LADY. No. He can believe good of no one, not even of himself.

CONFESSOR. That is the punishment Heaven sent him: to believe lies, because he wouldn't listen to the truth.

LADY. Lighten his guilty burden for him, if you can.

CONFESSOR. No. If I did he'd only grow insolent and accuse God of malice and injustice. This man is a demon, who must be kept confined. He belongs to the dangerous race of rebels; he'd misuse his gifts, if he could, to do evil. And men's power for evil is immeasurable.

LADY. For the sake of the... attachment you've shown me, can't you ease his burden a little; where it presses on him most and where he's least to blame?

CONFESSOR. You must do that, not I; so that he can leave you in the belief that you've a good side, and that you're not what your first husband told him you were. If he believes you, I'll deliver him later, just as I once bound him when he confessed to me, during his illness, in the convent of St. Saviour's.

LADY (going to the back and opening the door). As you wish!

STRANGER (re-entering). So there's the Terrible One! How did he come here? But isn't he the beggar, after all?

CONFESSOR. Yes, I am your terrible friend, and I've come for you.

STRANGER. What? Have I...?

CONFESSOR. Yes. Once already you promised me your soul, on oath, when you lay ill and felt near madness. It was then you offered to serve the powers of good; but when you got well again you broke your oath, and therefore were plagued with unrest, and wandered abroad unable to find peace—tortured by your own conscience.

STRANGER. Who are you really? Who dares lay a hand on my destiny?

CONFESSOR. You must ask her that.

LADY. This is the man to whom I was first engaged, and who dedicated his life to the service of God, when I left him.

STRANGER. Even if he were!

LADY. So you needn't think so ill of yourself because it was you who punished my faithlessness and another's lack of conscience.

STRANGER. His sin cannot justify mine. Of course it's untrue, like everything else; and you only say it to console me.

CONFESSOR. What an unhappy soul he is....

STRANGER. A damned one too!

CONFESSOR. No! (To the LADY.) Say something good of him.

LADY. He won't believe it, if I do; he only believes evil!

CONFESSOR. Then I shall have to say it. A beggar once came and asked him for a drink of water; but he gave me wine instead and let me sit at his table. You remember that?

STRANGER. No. I don't load my memory with such trifles.

CONFESSOR. Pride! Pride!

STRANGER. Call it pride, if you like. It's the last vestige of our god-like origin. Let's go, before it grows dark.

CONFESSOR. 'For the whole world shined with clear light and none were hindered in their labour. Over these only was spread a heavy night, an image of darkness which should afterward receive them; but yet were they unto themselves more grievous than the darkness.'

LADY. Don't hurt him!

STRANGER (with passion). How beautifully she can speak, though she is evil. Look at her eyes; they cannot weep tears, but they can flatter, sting, or lie! And yet she says: Don't hurt him! See, now she fears I'll wake her child, the little monster that robbed me of her! Come, priest, before I change my mind.

Curtain.