|
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 8
LADY. Hasn't life brought you a single pleasure?
STRANGER. Not one! If at any time I thought so, it was merely a
trap to tempt me to prolong my miseries. If ripe fruit fell into my
hand, it was poisoned or rotten at the core.
LADY. What is your religion--if you'll forgive the question?
STRANGER. Only this: that when I can bear things no longer, I shall
go.
LADY. Where?
STRANGER. Into annihilation. If I don't hold life in my hand, at
least I hold death. ... It gives me an amazing feeling of power.
LADY. You're playing with death!
STRANGER. As I've played with life. (Pause.) I was a writer. But in
spite of my melancholy temperament I've never been able to take
anything seriously--not even my worst troubles. Sometimes I even
doubt whether life itself has had any more reality than my books.
(A De Profundis is heard from the funeral procession.) They're
coming back. Why must they process up and down these streets?
LADY. Do you fear them?
STRANGER. They annoy me. The place might be bewitched. No, it's not
death I fear, but solitude; for then one's not alone. I don't know
who's there, I or another, but in solitude one's not alone. The air
grows heavy and seems to engender invisible beings, who have life
and whose presence can be felt.
LADY. You've noticed that?
STRANGER. For some time I've noticed a great deal; but not as I
used to. Once I merely saw objects and events, forms and colours,
whilst now I perceive ideas and meanings. Life, that once had no
meaning, has begun to have one. Now I discern intention where I
used to see nothing but chance. (Pause.) When I met you yesterday
it struck me you'd been sent across my path, either to save me, or
destroy me.
LADY. Why should I destroy you?
STRANGER. Because it may be your destiny.
LADY. No such idea ever crossed my mind; it was largely sympathy I
felt for you. ... Never, in all my life, have I met anyone like
you. I have only to look at you for the tears to start to my eyes.
Tell me, what have you on your conscience? Have you done something
wrong, that's never been discovered or punished?
STRANGER. You may well ask! No, I've no more sins on my conscience
than other free men. Except this: I determined that life should
never make a fool of me.
LADY. You must let yourself be fooled, more or less, to live at
all.
STRANGER. That would seem a kind of duty; but one I wanted to get
out of. (Pause.) I've another secret. It's whispered in the family
that I'm a changeling.
LADY. What's that?
STRANGER. A child substituted by the elves for the baby that was
born.
LADY. Do you believe in such things?
STRANGER. No. But, as a parable, there's something to be said for
it. (Pause.) As a child I was always crying and didn't seem to take
to life in this world. I hated my parents, as they hated me. I
brooked no constraint, no conventions, no laws, and my longing was
for the woods and the sea.
LADY. Did you ever see visions?
STRANGER. Never. But I've often thought that two beings were
guiding my destiny. One offers me all I desire; but the other's
ever at hand to bespatter the gifts with filth, so that they're
useless to me and I can't touch them. It's true that life has given
me all I asked of it--but everything's turned out worthless to me.
Previous Page
| Next Page
|
|