The Unicorn from the Stars and Other Plays - LightNovelsOnl.com
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FOOL. Four, and I will tell you!
WISE M. Very well, four. But I will not call you Teigue the Fool any longer.
FOOL. Let me come close to you where n.o.body will hear me. But first you must promise you will not drive them away. [WISE M. _nods._] Every day men go out dressed in black and spread great black nets over the hills, great black nets.
WISE M. Why do they do that?
FOOL. That they may catch the feet of the angels. But every morning, just before the dawn, I go out and cut the nets with my shears, and the angels fly away.
WISE M. Ah, now I know that you are Teigue the Fool. You have told me that I am wise, and I have never seen an angel.
FOOL. I have seen plenty of angels.
WISE M. Do you bring luck to the angels too?
FOOL. Oh, no, no! No one could do that. But they are always there if one looks about one; they are like the blades of gra.s.s.
WISE M. When do you see them?
FOOL. When one gets quiet, then something wakes up inside one, something happy and quiet like the stars--not like the seven that move, but like the fixed stars. [_He points upward._]
WISE M. And what happens then?
FOOL. Then all in a minute one smells summer flowers, and tall people go by, happy and laughing, and their clothes are the colour of burning sods.
WISE M. Is it long since you have seen them, Teigue the Fool?
FOOL. Not long, glory be to G.o.d! I saw one coming behind me just now.
It was not laughing, but it had clothes the colour of burning sods, and there was something s.h.i.+ning about its head.
WISE M. Well, there are your four pennies. You, a fool, say "glory be to G.o.d," but before I came the wise men said it.
FOOL. Four pennies! That means a great deal of luck. Great teacher, I have brought you plenty of luck!
[_He goes out shaking the bag._]
WISE M. Though they call him Teigue the Fool, he is not more foolish than everybody used to be, with their dreams and their preachings and their three worlds; but I have overthrown their three worlds with the seven sciences. [_He touches the books with his hands._] With Philosophy that was made from the lonely star, I have taught them to forget Theology; with Architecture, I have hidden the ramparts of their cloudy heaven; with Music, the fierce planets' daughter whose hair is always on fire, and with Grammar that is the moon's daughter, I have shut their ears to the imaginary harpings and speech of the angels; and I have made formations of battle with Arithmetic that have put the hosts of heaven to the rout. But, Rhetoric and Dialectic, that have been born out of the light star and out of the amorous star, you have been my spear-man and my catapult! Oh! my swift hors.e.m.e.n! Oh! my keen darting arguments, it is because of you that I have overthrown the hosts of foolishness! [_An_ Angel, _in a dress the colour of embers, and carrying a blossoming apple bough in her hand and a gilded halo about her head, stands upon the threshold._] Before I came, men's minds were stuffed with folly about a heaven where birds sang the hours, and about angels that came and stood upon men's thresholds. But I have locked the visions into heaven and turned the key upon them. Well, I must consider this pa.s.sage about the two countries. My mother used to say something of the kind. She would say that when our bodies sleep our souls awake, and that whatever withers here ripens yonder, and that harvests are s.n.a.t.c.hed from us that they may feed invisible people. But the meaning of the book may be different, for only fools and women have thoughts like that; their thoughts were never written upon the walls of Babylon. I must ring the bell for my pupils. [_He sees the_ ANGEL.]
What are you? Who are you? I think I saw some that were like you in my dreams when I was a child--that bright thing, that dress that is the colour of embers! But I have done with dreams, I have done with dreams.
ANGEL. I am the Angel of the Most High G.o.d.
WISE M. Why have you come to me?
ANGEL. I have brought you a message.
WISE M. What message have you got for me?
ANGEL. You will die within the hour. You will die when the last grains have fallen in this gla.s.s. [_She turns the hour-gla.s.s._]
WISE M. My time to die has not come. I have my pupils. I have a young wife and children that I cannot leave. Why must I die?
ANGEL. You must die because no souls have pa.s.sed over the threshold of Heaven since you came into this country. The threshold is gra.s.sy, and the gates are rusty, and the angels that keep watch there are lonely.
WISE M. Where will death bring me to?
ANGEL. The doors of Heaven will not open to you, for you have denied the existence of Heaven; and the doors of Purgatory will not open to you, for you have denied the existence of Purgatory.
WISE M. But I have also denied the existence of h.e.l.l!
ANGEL. h.e.l.l is the place of those who deny.
WISE M. [_kneels_]. I have, indeed, denied everything, and have taught others to deny. I have believed in nothing but what my senses told me.
But, oh! beautiful Angel, forgive me, forgive me!
ANGEL. You should have asked forgiveness long ago.
WISE M. Had I seen your face as I see it now, oh! beautiful angel, I would have believed, I would have asked forgiveness. Maybe you do not know how easy it is to doubt. Storm, death, the gra.s.s rotting, many sicknesses, those are the messengers that came to me. Oh! why are you silent? You carry the pardon of the Most High; give it to me! I would kiss your hands if I were not afraid--no, no, the hem of your dress!
ANGEL. You let go undying hands too long ago to take hold of them now.
WISE M. You cannot understand. You live in that country people only see in their dreams. Maybe it is as hard for you to understand why we disbelieve as it is for us to believe. Oh! what have I said! You know everything! Give me time to undo what I have done. Give me a year--a month--a day--an hour! Give me to this hour's end, that I may undo what I have done!
ANGEL. You cannot undo what you have done. Yet I have this power with my message. If you can find one that believes before the hour's end, you shall come to Heaven after the years of Purgatory. For, from one fiery seed, watched over by those that sent me, the harvest can come again to heap the golden thres.h.i.+ng floor. But now farewell, for I am weary of the weight of time.
WISE M. Blessed be the Father, blessed be the Son, blessed be the Spirit, blessed be the Messenger They have sent!
ANGEL [_at the door and pointing at the hour-gla.s.s_]. In a little while the uppermost gla.s.s will be empty. [_Goes out._]
WISE M. Everything will be well with me. I will call my pupils; they only say they doubt. [_Pulls the bell._] They will be here in a moment.
They want to please me; they pretend that they disbelieve. Belief is too old to be overcome all in a minute. Besides, I can prove what I once disproved. [_Another pull at the bell._] They are coming now. I will go to my desk. I will speak quietly, as if nothing had happened.
[_He stands at the desk with a fixed look in his eyes. The voices of the pupils are heard outside singing these words._]
I was going the road one day, O the brown and the yellow beer, And I met with a man that was no right man O my dear, O my dear.
[_The sound grows louder as they come nearer, but ceases on the threshold._]
_Enter_ PUPILS _and the_ FOOL.
FOOL. Leave me alone. Leave me alone. Who is that pulling at my bag?
King's son, do not pull at my bag.
A YOUNG MAN. Did your friends the angels give you that bag? Why don't they fill your bag for you?
FOOL. Give me pennies! Give me some pennies!
A YOUNG M. What do you want pennies for?--that great bag at your waist is heavy.