The Road to Damascus, a Trilogy Part 9

STRANGER. Let's go. We'll run the gauntlet of waiters, maids and servants. Red with shame and pale with indignation. Animals have their lairs to hide in, but we are forced to flaunt our shame. (Pause.) Let down your veil.

LADY. So this is freedom!

STRANGER. And I... am the liberator. (Exeunt.)

SCENE IV

BY THE SEA

[A hut on a cliff by the sea. Outside it a table with chairs. The STRANGER and the LADY are dressed in less sombre clothing and look younger than in the previous scene. The LADY is doing crochet work.]

STRANGER. Three peaceful happy days at my wife's side, and anxiety returns!

LADY. What do you fear?

STRANGER. That this will not last long.

LADY. Why do you think so?

STRANGER. I don't know. I believe it must end suddenly, terribly.

There's something deceptive even the suns.h.i.+ne and the stillness. I feel that happiness if not part of my destiny.

LADY. But it's all over! My parents are resigned to what we've done. My husband understands and has written a kind letter.

STRANGER. What does that matter? Fate spins the web; once more I hear the mallet fall and the chairs being pushed back from the table--judgment has been p.r.o.nounced. Yet that must have happened before I was born, because even in childhood I began to serve my sentence.

There's no moment in my life on which can look back with happiness.

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 refas.h.i.+on 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 G.o.ds.

LADY. But if that's so, why can't you help yourself, or us?

STRANGER. Can't I? Wait. As yet we've only seen the beginning.

LADY. If the end is like it, heaven help us!

STRANGER. I know what you fear; and I meant to hold back a pleasant surprise. But now I won't torment you longer. (He takes out a registered letter, not yet opened.) Look!

LADY. The money's come!

STRANGER. This morning. Who can destroy me now?

LADY. Don't speak like that. You know who could.

STRANGER. Who?