|
Main
- books.jibble.org
My Books
- IRC Hacks
Misc. Articles
- Meaning of Jibble
- M4 Su Doku
- Computer Scrapbooking
- Setting up Java
- Bootable Java
- Cookies in Java
- Dynamic Graphs
- Social Shakespeare
External Links
- Paul Mutton
- Jibble Photo Gallery
- Jibble Forums
- Google Landmarks
- Jibble Shop
- Free Books
- Intershot Ltd
|
books.jibble.org
Previous Page
| Next Page
Page 33
Curtain.
SCENE IX
CONVENT
[The refectory of an ancient convent, resembling a simple
whitewashed Romanesque church. There are damp patches on the walls,
looking like strange figures. A long table with bowls; at the end a
desk for the Lector. At the back a door leading to the chapel.
There are lighted candles on the tables. On the wall, left, a
painting representing the Archangel Michael killing the Fiend.]
[The STRANGER is sitting left, at a refectory table, dressed in the
white clothing of a patient, with a bowl before him. At the table,
right, are sitting: the brown-clad mourners of Scene I. The BEGGAR.
A woman in mourning with two children. A woman who resembles the
Lady, but who is not her and who is crocheting instead of eating. A
Man very like the Doctor, another like the Madman. Others like the
Father, Mother, Brother. Parents of the 'Prodigal Son,' etc. All
are dressed in white, but over this are wearing costumes of
coloured cr�pe. Their faces are waxen and corpse-like, their whole
appearance queer, their gestures strange. On the rise of the
curtain all are finishing a Paternoster, except the STRANGER.]
STRANGER (rising and going to the ABBESS, who is standing at a
serving table). Mother. May I speak to you?
ABBESS (in a black-and-white Augustinian habit). Yes, my son. (They
come forward.)
STRANGER. First, where am I?
ABBESS. In a convent called 'St. Saviour.' You were found on the
hills above the ravine, with a cross you'd broken from a calvary
and with which you were threatening someone in the clouds. Indeed,
you thought you could see him. You were feverish and had lost your
foothold. You were picked up, unhurt, beneath a cliff, but in
delirium. You were brought to the hospital and put to bed. Since
then you've spoken wildly, and complained of a pain in your hip,
but no injury could be found.
STRANGER. What did I speak of?
ABBESS. You had the usual feverish dreams. You reproached yourself
with all kinds of things, and thought you could see your victims,
as you called them.
STRANGER. And then?
ABBESS. Your thoughts often turned to money matters. You wanted to
pay for yourself in the hospital. I tried to calm you by telling
you no payment would be asked: all was done out of charity. ...
STRANGER. I want no charity.
ABBESS. It's more blessed to give than to receive; yet a noble
nature can accept and be thankful.
STRANGER. I want no charity.
ABBESS. Hm!
STRANGER. Tell me, why will none of those people sit at the same
table with me? They're getting up ... going. ...
ABBESS. They seem to fear you.
STRANGER. Why?
ABBESS. You look so. ...
STRANGER. I? But what of them? Are they real?
ABBESS. If you mean true, they've a terrible reality. It may be
they look strange to you, because you're still feverish. Or there
may be another reason.
STRANGER. I seem to know them, all of them! I see them as if in a
mirror: they only make as if they were eating. ... Is this some
drama they're performing? Those look like my parents, rather like ...
(Pause.) Hitherto I've feared nothing, because life was useless to
me. ... Now I begin to be afraid.
Previous Page
| Next Page
|
|