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Page 22
LADY. Unfortunate man! Yet you've had everything you wished from
life!
STRANGER. Everything. Unluckily I forgot to wish for money.
LADY. You're thinking of that again.
STRANGER. Are you surprised?
LADY. Quiet!
STRANGER. What is it you're always working at? You sit there like
one of the Fates and draw the threads through your fingers. But go
on. The most beautiful of sights is a woman bending over her work,
or over her child. What are you making?
LADY. Nothing. Crochet work.
STRANGER. It looks like a network of nerves and knots on which
you've fixed your thoughts. The brain must look like that--from
within.
LADY. If only I thought of half the things you imagine. ... But I
think of nothing.
STRANGER. Perhaps that's why I feel so contented when I'm with you.
Why, I find you so perfect that I can no longer imagine life
without you! Now the clouds have blown away. Now the sky is clear!
The wind soft--feel how it caresses us! This is Life! Yes, now I
live. And I feel my spirit growing, spreading, becoming tenuous,
infinite. I am everywhere, in the ocean which is my blood, in the
rocks that are my bones, in the trees, in the flowers; and my head
reaches up to the heavens. I can survey the whole universe. I _am_
the universe. And I feel the power of the Creator within me, for I
am He! I wish I could grasp the all in my hand and refashion it
into something more perfect, more lasting, more beautiful. I want
all creation and created beings to be happy, to be born without
pain, live without suffering, and die in quiet content. Eve! Die
with me now! This moment, for the next will bring sorrow again.
LADY. I'm not ready to die.
STRANGER. Why not?
LADY. I believe there are things I've not yet done. Perhaps I've
not suffered enough.
STRANGER. Is that the purpose of life?
LADY. It seems to be. (Pause.) Now I want to ask one thing of you.
STRANGER. Well?
LADY. Don't blaspheme against heaven again, or compare yourself
with the Creator, for then you remind me of Caesar at home.
STRANGER (excitedly). Caesar! How can you say that ...?
LADY. I'm sorry if I've said anything I shouldn't. It was foolish
of me to say 'at home.' Forgive me.
STRANGER. You were thinking that Caesar and I resemble one another
in our blasphemies?
LADY. Of course not.
STRANGER. Strange. I believe you when you say you don't mean to
hurt me; yet you _do_ hurt me, as all the others do. Why?
LADY. Because you're over-sensitive.
STRANGER. You say that again! Do you think I've sensitive hidden
places?
LADY. No. I didn't mean that. And now the spirits of suspicion and
discord are coming between us. Drive them away--at once.
STRANGER. You mustn't say I blaspheme if I use the well-known
words: See, we are like unto the gods.
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