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Page 81
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 a11?
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.
PART III.
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