{"collection":"myth-cosmogony","full_text_available":true,"graph_url":"https://unchartedknowledge.5gfusion.net/v2/api/page/gutenberg_8510/graph","html_url":"https://unchartedknowledge.5gfusion.net/v2/page/gutenberg_8510","id":"gutenberg_8510","license":"Public Domain (US)","rights_basis":"gutenberg_metadata_copyright_false","source":"gutenberg","source_url":"https://www.gutenberg.org/ebooks/8510","summary":null,"tags":["Category: Mythology, Legends & Folklore","Category: Plays/Films/Dramas","Drama"],"text":"Produced by Nicole Apostola\n\n\n\n\n\nLUCKY PEHR\n\n[A Drama in Five Acts]\n\n\nBy August Strindberg\n\nAuthor Of \"Easter,\" Etc.\n\nTranslated By Velma Swanston Howard\n\n\nAuthorized Edition\n\n\n\n\nCHARACTERS\n\n     OLD MAN IN THE TOWER.\n     PEHR.\n     LISA.\n     FAIRY.\n     ELF.\n     RATS [NILLA AND NISSE].\n     BUTLER.\n     ASSESSOR.\n     PETITIONER.\n     FIRST FRIEND.\n     SECOND FRIEND.\n     A WOMAN.\n     PILLORY.\n     STATUE.\n     WAGONMAKER.\n     SHOEMAKER.\n     CHIROPODIST.\n     STREET-PAVER.\n     RELATIVE.\n     BURGOMASTER.\n     ONE OF THE PEOPLE.\n     CHAMBERLAIN OF THE CALIPH.\n     AMEER.\n     COURT HISTORIAN.\n     COURT MULLAH.\n     GRAND VIZIER.\n     POET LAUREATE.\n     BRIDE.\n     SINGER.\n     DEATH.\n     WISE MAN.\n     SAINT BARTHOLOMEW.\n     SAINT LAURENCE.\n     BROOM.\n     PALL.\n     A VOICE.\n\n     Townspeople, Dancers, Viziers, Courtiers,\n     Court Attendants, etc.\n\n\n\n\nLUCKY PEHR\n\n[Allegorical play in Five Acts]\n\n\n\n\nSYNOPSIS OF SCENES\n\n     ACT I.--Room in a Church Tower.\n\n     ACT II.--[a] Forest--[b] Rich Man's Banquet Hall.\n\n     ACT III.-Public Square and Town Hall.\n\n     ACT IV.--[a] Caliph's Palace--[b] Seashore.\n\n     ACT V.--Country Church [Interior].\n\n     TIME: Middle Ages.\n\n\n\n\nACT ONE\n\nSCENE: A Room in the Church Tower.\n\nWindow shutters at back wide open, starlit sky is seen through windows.\nBackground: Snow covered house-roofs; gable windows in the distance\nbrilliantly illuminated. In room an old chair, a fire-pan and a picture\nof the Virgin, with a lighted candle before it. Room is divided by\nposts--two in centre thick enough to conceal an adult.\n\nChant, in unison, from the church below:\n\n     A Solis ortus cardine\n       Et usque terrae limitem\n     Christum canamus principem\n       Natum Maria Virgini.\n\n[Old Man comes up tower steps and enters carrying a rat-trap, a\nbarley-sheaf and a dish of porridge, which he sets down on the floor.]\n\nOLD MAN. Now the elf shall have his Christmas porridge. And this year\nhe has earned it honestly--twice he awakened me when I fell asleep and\nforgot the tower shutters; once he rang the bell when fire broke loose.\nMerry Christmas, Elf! and many of them. [Takes up rat-trap and sets it.]\nHere's your Christmas mess, Satan's rats!\n\nA VOICE. Curse not Christmas!\n\nOLD MAN. I believe there are spirits about to-night--Ugh! it's the cold\nincreasing; then the beams always creak, like an old ship. Here's your\nChristmas supper. Now perhaps you'll quit gnawing the bell-rope and\neating up the tallow, you accursed pest!\n\nA VOICE. Curse not Christmas!\n\nOLD MAN. The spooks are at it again! Christmas eve--yes, yes! [Places\nrat-trap on the floor.] There! Now they have their portion. And now\ncomes the turn of the feathered wretches. They must have grain, of\ncourse, so they can soil the tin roof for me. Such is life! The church\nwardens pay for it, so it's not my affair. But if I were to ask for an\nextra shilling two in wages--that they couldn't afford. That wouldn't\nbe seen! But when one sticks out a grain-sheaf on a pole once a year,\nit looks generous. Ah, that one is a fine fellow!--and generosity is a\nvirtue. Now, if we were to share and share alike, I should get back my\nporridge, which I gave to the elf. [Shakes sheaf and gathers the grain\ninto a bowl.]\n\nA VOICE. He robs Christmas! He robs Christmas!\n\nOLD MAN. Now I'll put this thing on the pole so that it will look like a\nsymbol, and as a symbol it will also be of service--for it shows what\nis not to be found within. [He puts sheaf through window and hangs it\non pole, then shakes his fist at town below.] Oh, you old human pit down\nthere! I spit on you! [Spits through window; comes down and sees the\nburning candle before the Virgin's picture.] This must be the boy's\ndoings! The times are not such that one burns up candles needlessly.\n[Snuffs out light and puts the candle into his pocket.]\n\nA VOICE. Woe! Woe! [Head of Virgin shakes three times and a bright ray\nof light darts out from the head.]\n\nOLD MAN. [Shrinking.] Is hell let loose to-night?\n\nA VOICE. Heaven!\n\nOLD MAN. Pehr, Pehr! Where are you? My eyes! Light the candles--My son,\nmy son!\n\nVIRGIN'S IMAGE. _My_ SON!\n\nOLD MAN. [Groping his way toward the stairs.] My eyes! Hell-fire! [He\nrushes down the steps.]\n\n[Two rats, Nisse and Nilla, come on right, one behind the other. They\nhave mourning veils swathed about their tails.]\n\nNISSE. I say, it smells like roast pig!\n\nNILLA. Oh, I promise you! Be careful, Nisse! I see the trap over there.\n[Sits on hind legs.] 'Twas in that very trap that our little ones were\nlost! O dear, dear, dear!\n\nNISSE. If we could only hit upon some trick to play on the bad old man\nit would do my bowels good! Can you see if he has left anything about\nwhich he values?\n\nNILLA. Suppose we gnaw the ropes so the bells will tumble down on his\nhead--\n\nNISSE. Why, Nilla! you know that I have only one poor tooth left in my\nhead.\n\nNILLA. But I have two--and where there's a will there's--but you, you\nhave no feeling for your children!\n\nNISSE. Come now! we shan't quarrel on Christmas Eve.\n\nNILLA. Hush! What have we here?\n\nNISSE. A dish of porridge--\n\nNILLA. Which the old man has left--\n\nNISSE. For the elf. He's afraid of him!\n\nNILLA. Now I know! We'll eat up the porridge so--\n\nNISSE. The elf will get after him--\n\nNILLA. And he can raise the mischief when he gets angry. [They are over\nby the dish now, and eating.]\n\nNISSE. Oh, move along and make room for me!\n\nNILLA. Hush! It creaks in the stairs.\n\nNISSE. Now I see the bottom of the dish; there's the lump of butter!\n\nNILLA. Help me with this corner.\n\nNISSE. Ah!--now we'll wipe our mouths and run. [They scurry off left.]\n\n[Elf slides down bell-rope.]\n\nELF. [Walks about and searches.] Where's my Christmas porridge? I\nscented its aroma a long way off. It will taste good to me on a cold\nnight, like this. I hope he has given me a big lump of butter this year,\nsince I have been so good to him. [Loosens belt.] There! get you ready,\nmy stomach. I'll let out two holes in the belt, which will make it about\nright. [He sees dish.] Ah, ha! what's this? Empty dishes! What has come\nover the old man-hater? Has he grown stingy and arrogant, or does he\nmock me, when he sets out an empty dish! There has been porridge here\n[smells]--butter, too! Well, well, old man! I'm sorry for you, but I\nshall have to punish you. The elf is for the purpose of punishing and\nrewarding. I must sit down and think out some _real_ Christmas gift.\n[Sits in chair.] Let me see! The old man shuts himself up in this place\nwith his son, whom he wishes to shield from the evils and shams of the\nworld. The old man has seen much of the world, and hates it; the young\none has never been beyond the church door and has seen the world only\nfrom the tower. But I know that it tempts him, just because he has seen\nit like this--from a bird's-eye view. The old man has but one wish in\nlife--that his son shall succeed him and thus be spared the struggles of\nlife and the cruelty of men. It is this wish which I shall cross; it is\nhis only vulnerable point. Well and good! I'll call his godmother. She\nshall take the boy in hand and show him all the glories of the world;\nafterwards, there will be nothing more for the old man to do in the\nmatter. The dreams of youth--I know their powers. Well, then! [Blows a\nwhistle.]\n\n[Fairy dressed like an old witch, with brown cloak and cane, emerges\nfrom behind a post.]\n\nFAIRY. Good evening, lad.\n\nELF. Good evening, old lady. Can you corrupt a young man?--Oh!\nunderstand me aright.\n\nFAIRY. That depends--\n\nELF. It won't go in that costume! You see, it's a question of the old\nman's son.\n\nFAIRY. Our Pehr?\n\nELF. Just he! Hush, old lady, I'm talking now! The boy is very dear to\nmy heart--that he has been ever since his birth. We--you and I--stood\nsponsor for him, and we each have our duties. His education is being\nneglected; he has seen nothing of the world, although he is fifteen\nto-day. I want him to go out and look around so he will be a credit to\nus. Have you anything against it?\n\nFAIRY. Nothing. But I fear that he will meet with difficulties out there\nwhich we cannot adjust, since our power does not extend beyond these\nchurch walls.\n\nELF. True; and I must search my brain for another idea. Ah--I have it!\nWe'll each give him his godgift, which can serve him in all conditions\nof life.\n\nFAIRY. And what shall you give? Let us hear!\n\nELF. Life is rather ticklish, as you know, and the boy is young! He has\nnot as yet, through proper training, had time to learn all the arts by\nwhich one gains one's wishes. Now, I ask nothing more of life, for I\nknow what it gives; therefore he shall have my wish-ring. And you?\n\nFAIRY. I daresay that gift is a good one, but when once he has got\nall that he wished for, he will have made his journey like the blind;\ntherefore I shall give him a gift which will show him matter's face\nvalue--I shall give him good company on the way.\n\nELF. Feminine?\n\nFAIRY. Naturally.\n\nELF. You're a wise one! No--now you shall take charge of the lad and see\nthat he gets away.\n\nFAIRY. But how? He fears and obeys his father.\n\nELF. Fiddlesticks! Do your hokus-pokus and show him all the glories down\nthere, in the Christmas-bedecked homes. Then it will go fast enough!\n\nFAIRY. Do you think so?\n\nELF. I know the young. Here's my ring--and now to business!\n\nFAIRY. Is it right to play with human destiny?\n\nELF. We only play with human beings, their destinies we do not control.\nSoon or late, the boy will go out into the world, and he is better\nequipped than many who have faced life before him. When his journey is\nover, we can discuss the subject more at length. Are you ready?\n\nFAIRY. [Going toward post.] Immediately. [Fairy disappears.]\n\nELF. Then I'll whistle. [Disappears behind the other post.]\n\n[Pehr comes down steps leading from top of tower.]\n\nPEHR. Who's there?\n\nFAIRY. [Appears suddenly, dressed in white.] Your godmother, Pehr. Don't\nyou know me?\n\nPEHR. Ah! you are the one who caught me in your arms that time, when I\nfell from the tower. What do you want of me to-day?\n\nFAIRY. I want to give you a Christmas gift.\n\nPEHR. A gift? What is that?\n\nFAIRY. Something that gives one pleasure.\n\nPEHR. Pleasure?\n\nFAIRY. Fulfillment of one's wishes.\n\nPEHR. Wishes! Now I begin to understand.\n\nFAIRY. When standing out there on the balcony, have you never felt as if\nsomething were drawing you--sort of enticing you down?\n\nPEHR. Yes, that I have felt. You see the black streak over there, where\nlight and darkness meet? In the daytime it looks different; and when the\nwind blows, it moves.\n\nFAIRY. The forest.\n\nPEHR. What is it like in the forest?\n\nFAIRY. It is cool and delightful.\n\nPEHR. That's well! Thither I am drawn, sometimes, so powerfully that I\nwant to rush through the tower window and soar, like the birds in the\nair!\n\nFAIRY. Beyond the borders of the forest?\n\nPEHR. Is there something beyond?\n\nFAIRY. There lies the world.\n\nPEHR. The world! What is that?\n\nFAIRY. Would you like to see it?\n\nPEHR. Is it pleasant?\n\nFAIRY. Some say it is; the majority say it is not. Come over here and\nI will show you some pictures from that checkered panorama which people\ncall life. [Transparency curtain.]\n\nDo you see the great house on the square, where all the windows are\nlighted? The rich man lives there. Now look into the rooms. On the table\nthere is a lighted Christmas-tree laden with all kinds of gifts: the\ngolden fruits of the tropics from across the seas; earth's hidden\ntreasures, to which people bend the knee and which in their dazzling\nsettings reflect the lights. But, do you see the light in the faces\nof the little children? That is the earth-life's sun--that is\n_happiness_--which is something you do not know, poor child! But you\nshall know it. You want to, do you not?\n\nPEHR. Who is the good fairy that walks about and gives the children the\ngolden fruits?\n\nFAIRY. That is the mother.\n\nPEHR. Mother?--I don't understand.\n\nFAIRY. You, too, had a mother, but she died when you were very young.\n\nPEHR. And the old man in the corner, with the mild look in his eyes?\n\nFAIRY. He is the father, who in memory is living over his childhood.\n\nPEHR. The father! But he looks so pleasant.\n\nFAIRY. Yes, for he loves some one besides himself.\n\nPEHR. And the youth who puts his arm around the young girl's\nwaist--[Eagerly.] Now he presses his face against hers--their lips\nmeet--what does that mean? Does one speak like that in life?\n\nFAIRY. That is love's way of speaking.\n\nPEHR. Love! Then it must be glorious to see it all!\n\nFAIRY. Wait! Now look up there, in the gable window--a single candle\nburns, a poor, wretched light. [Tableau.]\n\nPEHR. Poverty! That I know. Show me something pretty!\n\nFAIRY. [Regarding him.] You are pleasure loving. Very well!--Look again\nup there, around the same Christmas light--it shines dimly but warmly on\nthe contented table of poverty.\n\nPEHR. No! I want to see something beautiful.\n\nFAIRY. Really! Is there anything more beautiful than--but, wait! you\nshall see--Now look over yonder--toward the castle, where the King\nlives. [Tableau.]\n\nPEHR. Oh!\n\nFAIRY. Do you see the beautiful robes, the glittering jewels? Do you\nsee how the walls reflect the brilliant lights and how in the middle of\nwinter real roses and blue lilies are in bloom?\n\nPEHR. Oh!\n\nFAIRY. And the young girls, with the flowing locks, who serve wine in\nsilver goblets--\n\nPEHR. _There_ I want to be!\n\nFAIRY. And now stewards, in white, carry on the dishes.\n\nPEHR. Oh!\n\nFAIRY. The heralds rap on the floor with their staves--the trumpets\nsound--[Three strokes of a bell are heard; the tower chamber takes on\nits former appearance.] Alas! the time is up. Pehr, do you wish to go\nout and taste of life?\n\nPEHR. Yes, yes!\n\nFAIRY. Good and bad?\n\nPEHR. Bad? That I think I know; the good I would learn to know.\n\nFAIRY. You think so? But you shall soon see that all which seems good is\nnot good, and all that seems bad is not bad.\n\nPEHR. Only let me get out--and away from here!\n\nFAIRY. You may go; but first I want to give you, as a help on your\njourney, a gift which will be of service to you. When you have it,\nyou will have been given more than others, and therefore more will be\nrequired of you at some future time.\n\nPEHR. Let me see it!\n\nFAIRY. This ring has the power to grant you all your wishes--to your\ncredit, but to no one's harm.\n\nPEHR. That's a fine ring! But what will the old man say?\n\nFAIRY. He is only going to meet with his just punishment--punishment for\nhis selfishness.\n\nPEHR. Yes, that is just. All the same I feel sorry for him.\n\nFAIRY. Do not grieve for him; I shall watch over his sorrow.\n\nPEHR. Sorrow! Nothing else? Sorrow, he says, is the one pleasure in\nlife. Let him sit and enjoy it then. I shall probably furnish him with\nopportunities.\n\nFAIRY. And lastly, young man, will you take provisions from the Wise\nMan?\n\nPEHR. What should they be?--Good advice?\n\nFAIRY. Yes.\n\nPEHR. Alas, I have such quantities of that!\n\nFAIRY. I know that, and I know its fate. Farewell then! May life so\nteach you to live that when your journey is over you shall be--whether\ngreat or obscure; successful or unsuccessful; learned or ignorant--a\nman, and above all, a manly man. Farewell! [Fairy disappears in column.]\n\nPEHR. [Alone.] Well, Pehr, you are going out into life! Others before\nyou have probably done likewise. But is it, then, so difficult out\nthere? To be sure I have stood on the church roof and watched the\nthrongs of people down in the street crawl around each other, going and\ncoming. To me they appear so quiet and orderly, and I don't see that\nthey trample on one another, although they are as thick as gnats.\nThat dogs and apprentices fight sometimes, that I have seen, but grown\nfolk--never! The old man and I never fight, although we pass each other\non the stairs ten times a day. True, he has beaten me, but I have never\nbeaten him; and other people may not be so bad either, if the truth were\ntold. Wasn't there a fire the other day in the house of a rich merchant\nand didn't a lot of poor wretches come running from all directions, and\ndidn't they go up to the rich man's place and save his goods? Oh, yes, I\nsaw how they took silver pieces from his table and carried them far out\nof the city, where they hid them behind haystacks so the silver wouldn't\nbe burned up. Wasn't that kind of them? We shall see, we shall see!\nMeanwhile, my dear Pehr, you shall go out and have a look at the world\nand make use of your gifts. [Examines ring.] Let's see! What shall I\nwish for first?\n\n[Old man enters as if through wall.]\n\nPEHR. Oh! so the old man is here. I did not hear your footsteps on the\nstairs. Which way did you come?\n\nOLD MAN. [Alarmed.] Did you see?\n\nPEHR. No.\n\nOLD MAN. Let me look at you! [Gazes fixedly at him.] Something has\nhappened here--\n\nPEHR. Nothing--nothing whatever!\n\nOLD MAN. My son, it will soon be midnight. Don't you want to retire to\nyour room so that I may lock you in?\n\nPEHR. You always want to shut me in! Tell me, Father, have you never\nmeant to let me out in the world? Surely you cannot have thought that I\nshould sit here forever, and dry up!\n\nOLD MAN. I have seen life; I know its Sodom apples--therefore I wish to\nshield you.\n\nPEHR. But life is not as sour as you say, perhaps.\n\nOLD MAN. What do you know about it?\n\nPEHR. Oh, I can see things from my high place! Come here and I will show\nyou.\n\nOLD MAN. What can you show me that I do not already know?\n\nPEHR. [Leads Old Man to the window.] Look! Do you see the great house on\nthe square?\n\nOLD MAN. Yes; but make haste! Before the clock strikes twelve, you must\nbe in bed.\n\nPEHR. Do you see the Christmas-tree, with its gold and silver?\n\nOLD MAN. Only paper, boy!\n\nPEHR. And the golden fruits of the tropics?\n\nOLD MAN. Worm-eaten--\n\nPEHR. And the sun--Happiness--how it shines on the children's faces!\n\nOLD MAN. Between times distorted by envy--\n\nPEHR. And the old man who sits there, contented and happy--\n\nOLD MAN. It's a lie! He trembles in his heart for the house rent, which\nmust be paid on the new year--\n\nPEHR. He--the rich man?\n\nOLD MAN. Hides his approaching downfall!\n\nPEHR. And those young people--Do you see how he stretches his arm--\n\nOLD MAN. After the father's money bag!\n\nPEHR. Shame on you! Their lips meet--\n\nOLD MAN. In lust!\n\nPEHR. What is that?--Ah! Now look up there, at the gable window, with\nthe single light--\n\nOLD MAN. Prompted by caution, which demands darkness--\n\nPEHR. By the glow of contentment's calm light--\n\nOLD MAN. Which they stole from the spice stall, and their delight is in\nplanning the next expedition to the city market. I know it, do you hear!\nAnd up there, in the palace, where the lights glisten by the thousands\nand mirror themselves in the wines' sour streams--there they roll--empty\nheads and empty hearts--who say that they think and feel for the\npeople's welfare! There they roll, between bottles and dishes--\n\nPEHR. Why do you talk so fast? Let me continue--\n\nOLD MAN. No! Away with you and obey, boy!\n\nPEHR. Yes, away from here! I want to go out and see the world. I want\nto see child-faces--even if they can be clouded by envy's cankerworm! I\nwant to taste the fruit of the tropics even if it is worm-eaten! I would\ndrink the wine though it were gall, and I want to put my arm around a\nmaid's waist, even if a bankrupt father does sit at the hearth stone! I\nwant silver and gold--if in the end it is nothing but dross!\n\nOLD MAN. Hell-fire! who's been here?\n\nA VOICE. Curse not Christmas!\n\nPEHR. What can this mean? It is so strange here to-night--stranger than\nusual. Father, look at me! Why, that's not his face!\n\nOLD MAN. [Kneeling.] My son! Listen to your father--obey the old man,\nwho wishes you only good; remain within these peaceful walls!\n\nPEHR. It is too late!\n\nOLD MAN. What do I see?--that ring! who gave it to you? [Tries to take\nthe ring from Pehr.]\n\nPEHR. Who are you? You are not my father!\n\nOLD MAN. Your guilty, your unhappy father, who is bound by the\nwitchcraft of the Powers! [Old Man is transformed into a big black cat.]\n\nPEHR. Jesu Maria, help! [Bright rays dart out from Virgin's image; clock\nstrikes twelve.]\n\nPEHR. The witch! The witch! Away, unclean spirit! [Cat vanishes.] And\nnow--[opens tower shutters] for life! [Fingers ring.] To the forest.\n[Going through window.] _Out_!\n\nCURTAIN.\n\n\n\n\nACT TWO\n\nSCENE ONE.\n\nSnow-clad woods; diagonally across stage is an ice-covered brook. Dawn.\nWind blows through the trees as curtain rises. Pehr on.\n\nPEHR. So this is the forest, whither my thoughts have so often flown\nthrough the clear air, and this is the snow! Now I want to throw\nsnowballs, as I've seen school boys do. It is supposed to be something\nuncommonly amusing. [He takes up some snow and casts a few snowballs.]\nH-m! That's not so wonderful! Once again--I think it almost stupid.\n\nBut what is it that plays up in the tree tops? The wind--Ah, it sounds\nrather well. Zoo, zoo, zoo! But one grows sleepy if one listens to that\nlong. Zoo, zoo, zoo! Now it sounds like the gnats on a summer's evening.\nStrange how short everything is out here in Nature! The dullness in\nthe tower--that was long! Now it's not at all pretty or amusing. [Sees\nbrook.] Why, what is this? Ice! What pleasure can one get from that? Ah,\nnow I remember--one can skate on it. I must try that! [He goes out on\nthe brook; slides; ice cracks; he falls from fright and lies there,\nstunned.]\n\n[Enter Lisa.]\n\nLISA. [Runs up to Pehr.] There he is! Ah--he sleeps! [Sees something\nthat glitters.] What is that? [Picks up ring, which Pehr dropped when he\nfell.] A ring! He is sleeping in the snow! What can have happened? He\nis hurt! What can I do? In the very heart of the forest and right in\nthe snow! Not a human being comes this way. He'll freeze to death if he\ncannot get away. The good fairy sent me here to look up that boy, but\nshe did not tell me that I should find him half dead in a snow drift! If\nonly it were summer, with the sun shining on the green grass-carpet--\n\n[Lisa fingers ring. Transformation: Landscape is changed from winter\ninto summer; brook loses ice-cake and runs forth between the stones; sun\nshines on the whole.]\n\nLISA. What can be the meaning of this! [Amazed, glances in all\ndirections. Pehr awakens.]\n\nPEHR. [Rubbing his eyes.] Why, what is this--I fly from the church\ntower, come into a forest of snow, throw snowballs, skate, bump my head\non the ice, lose my senses--then I wake up and find that it is summer!\nHave I been lying here under the snow six months? No, it doesn't seem\nlikely. [Looks at himself in the brook.] I'm as red as a rose. [Bends\nover water.] But what do I see down in the deep--A blue sky, green\ntrees, white water-lilies, and right in their midst--a girl!--just like\nthe one the youth had his arm around in the Christmas-home: flowing\nhair, a mouth like a song, eyes like the dove's!--Ah! she nods to\nme--I'm coming, I'm coming! [About to plunge into the brook, when Lisa\ngives a cry. He turns.] There she is! A moment ago she was down here.\n\nLISA. So it seems, but do not always believe your eyes.\n\nPEHR. A strange world, this! But let me see if it is the same girl?\n[Stares at her.] Yes, it is she. [Starts to run toward her, then catches\nsight of ring.] What! my ring? You robbed me while I lay senseless!\nOh, do not believe your eyes, you said. No! for now I have my first\nlesson--I wanted to embrace an angel, and I find a thief.\n\nLISA. Do not always believe your eyes, Pehr; investigate before you\njudge.\n\nPEHR. You are right. I shall do so. Girl, who are you? What is your\nname?\n\nLISA. Lisa is my name, but who I am you must not know until the time is\nfulfilled. I came here and found you senseless--on the ice I found your\nring, the powers of which I did not know.\n\nPEHR. You have saved me from certain death in the snow. Forgive me!\nLisa, you shall go with me on my journey, and you shall see a jolly\nlife.\n\nLISA. You are traveling, you say--What is the object of your journey?\n\nPEHR. I seek--like all the rest--happiness.\n\nLISA. You seek happiness! That is a fleeting thing.\n\nPEHR. Ah, say not so! I can have all that I wish for. Have we not\nbeen given the most delightful summer in the middle of winter? See how\ngloriously the sun shines up in the pines! You must know that all this\nis new to me. Oh, look! [Picks up a few spruce-cones.] What are these?\n\nLISA. The fruit of the trees.\n\nPEHR. Then it is good to eat.\n\nLISA. No; but children play with it.\n\nPEHR. Play--that I have never done! Shall we play, Lisa?\n\nLISA. Yes--but what? Shall we play a game of tag?\n\nPEHR. How does it go?\n\nLISA. Watch me! [She runs behind a tree and throws cones at Pehr.] Now\ncatch me!\n\nPEHR. [Running after her.] But that's not so easily done! [Steps on a\ncone and hurts his foot.] The damned spruce apples!\n\nLISA. Mustn't curse the fruit of the trees!\n\nPEHR. One can do without such fruit! I prefer the kind I saw on a\nChristmas-tree. If this spruce could bear such fruit, then--[Instantly\nspruce bears oranges.] Look, look! Let us taste. [They pick fruit and\neat.]\n\nLISA. Well, what think you?\n\nPEHR. Oh! it's rather good--but not quite what I had fancied.\n\nLISA. So it is always--all through life.\n\nPEHR. My dear girl, how wise you are! Lisa, may I put my arm around your\nwaist? [A bird in the tree begins to sing softly.]\n\nLISA. Yes; but what for?\n\nPEHR. May I kiss you also?\n\nLISA. Yes--there's no harm in that, surely. [Bird sings louder.]\n\nPEHR. I'm so warm after the play, Lisa! Shall we bathe in the brook?\n\nLISA. [Covers her eyes with her hands.] Bathe!\n\nPEHR. [Throws off coat.] Yes!\n\nLISA. [Hides behind a tree.] No, no, no! [Bird sings.]\n\nPEHR. Who is that screech-owl up in the tree?\n\nLISA. It is a bird that sings.\n\nPEHR. What does he sing about?\n\nLISA. Hush! I understand bird language; that my godmother taught me.\n\nPEHR. It will be fun hearing about it! [Bird sings.]\n\nLISA. \"Not so, not so!\" he said just then. [Bird sings again.] Pehr, do\nyou know what he said then?\n\nPEHR. No.\n\nLISA. \"Live guiltless! Mine eye seeth thee.\"\n\nPEHR. Guiltless--what is that?\n\nLISA. I don't know--but dress yourself!\n\nPEHR. It's only nonsense; there's no one here to see us. [Cuckoo calls.]\nCuckoo! Cuckoo!\n\nPEHR. What is that rogue calling?\n\nLISA. [Imitates cuckoo.] Cuckoo, cuckoo!\n\nPEHR. What a lot of tiresome formalities there has got to be!\n\nLISA. Can you not enjoy the great, innocent pleasures of Nature?\n\nPEHR. Yes, for a little while--What was that? [Tears off vest.]\n\nLISA. An ant.\n\nPEHR. [Beats right and left with his hat.] Only look at all the horrid\npests! Ouch! what was it that stung me? A mosquito!\n\nLISA. Everything here in life is incomplete, Pehr. Remember that, and\ntake the bad with the good.\n\nPEHR. Deuce take the bad! I want the good. [Beats at the air.] Now I'm\ntired of the for est. Surely one cannot play all one's life! I yearn for\nactivity, and want to be among people. Tell me, Lisa--you, who are such\na wise little creature, what do people value most? For that I shall\nprocure for myself.\n\nLISA. Pehr, before I answer you, listen to a sensible word! People will\ncause you just as much annoyance as the mosquitoes do, but they will not\ngive you the delight to be found in Nature's perennial youth.\n\nPEHR. Nature!--Oh, yes, it is very pretty when seen from a church tower,\nbut it becomes rather monotonous near to. Doesn't everything stand\nstill? Don't the trees stand in the selfsame places where they stood\nfifty years ago, and won't they be standing there fifty years hence? My\neyes are already weary of _this_ splendor! I want movement and noise,\nand if the people are like mosquitoes, it will be so much easier to keep\nthem at a distance than this company. [Beats about his head with his\nhat.]\n\nLISA. You'll see, no doubt, you'll see! Experience will teach you better\nthan my word.\n\nPEHR. And now, Lisa, what do people value most in a person?\n\nLISA. I'm ashamed to say it.\n\nPEHR. You must tell me!\n\nLISA. Gold.\n\nPEHR. Gold? But that is something outside the person which does not\nbelong to his being.\n\nLISA. Yes, that is known; but it is so nevertheless.\n\nPEHR. What extraordinary qualities does gold possess?\n\nLISA. All! It is good for everything--and nothing. It gives all that\nearth has to offer; in itself it is the most perfect of all the earth's\nproducts which rust cannot spot--but which can put rust-spots into\nsouls.\n\nPEHR. Well, then! Will you follow me, Lisa?\n\nLISA. I will always follow you--at a distance.\n\nPEHR. At a distance! and why not near me? Lisa, now I shall put my arm\naround your waist again. [Lisa tears herself away; bird sings.] Why do\nyou run away?\n\nLISA. Ask the bird!\n\nPEHR. I can't understand what he says; you must tell me.\n\nLISA. [Embarrassed.] No, I cannot!\n\nPEHR. Cannot? What is it?\n\nLISA. He is not singing for us now. He sings to his sweetheart, so you\nmust know what he is saying.\n\nPEHR. How should I know that!\n\nLISA. He says like this: [Running off] \"I love you, I love you!\"\n\nPEHR. Stay! Shall you run away from me? Lisa! Lisa! She's gone! Very\nwell then! Come hither palace and plates and wines and horses and\nchariots and gold--gold!\n\n\nSCENE TWO.\n\nA luxurious Banquet Hall. Servants bring on a table, with food and\nwines; other servants carry in a chest containing gold; others, again, a\ntable covered with plates, vases, candle-sticks, etc.--all of gold.\n\nPEHR. [Walks about and looks around.] So this is the rich man's\nabode! Well, it looks rather promising. Slaves! Give me my best\nholiday-coat--but it must be of gold. [Servants hand him a gold-cloth\ncoat.] A chair! [They place a gold chair at table.] Now, Pehr, you shall\nenjoy life! and that is your right. Haven't you been up mornings at\nfour o'clock; and rung for early Mass; haven't you swept the church on\nFridays and scoured the stairs on Saturdays; haven't you eaten bread and\nherring three hundred and sixty-five days in the year and rinsed them\ndown with cold water; haven't you slept on pease-bolt which was so badly\nthreshed that you could feel the pease in your knee-joints? Oh, yes, you\nhave--therefore enjoy yourself! [Wants to sit at table.]\n\nBUTLER. [With staff in hand.] Pardon, Your Grace! The table is not laid.\n\nPEHR. Isn't it?\n\nBUTLER. In a couple of hours the roasts will be ready.\n\nPEHR. I don't want any roasts.\n\nBUTLER. [Intercepts Pehr with staff.] It can never be that one sits down\nat an unlaid table!\n\nPEHR. Who forbids me in my own house?\n\nBUTLER. Etiquette, Your Grace, does not under any circumstances permit\nit.\n\nPEHR. Etiquette! What kind of torment is that?\n\nBUTLER. Your Grace, listen to an old man's word! He who in Your Grace's\nposition violates the rules of etiquette is lost.\n\nPEHR. [Frightened.] What a harsh gentleman! I shall have to submit,\nalthough I'm beastly hungry--But, wait! Is there nothing that will move\nthat gentleman? I have heard that gold--[Goes over to chest and takes\nout a handful of gold coins.] Would not--\n\nBUTLER. Your Grace! I stand above the servants; above me stands Your\nGrace, but above us all stands--Conventionality. Its laws are perpetual,\nfor they have their foundation both in common sense and in what we call\nhistorical hypotheses.\n\nPEHR. And the historical hypotheses--cannot they be reached with gold?\n\nBUTLER. They are non-corruptible--in this instance!\n\nPEHR. What's the good of all my wealth if I cannot eat my fill when I'm\nhungry? I am worse off than the poorest bellringer.\n\n[Butler stations himself at the table, and stands like a statue.]\n\n[Enter Tax Assessor and assistants, who walk about and take an\ninventory.]\n\nPEHR. Look--here's a new torture! With what shall you gentlemen pester\nan innocent victim?\n\nTAX ASSESSOR. Taxation, Your Grace.\n\nPEHR. Indeed! So it is you who regulate people's worth. How high is a\nhuman being estimated these days?\n\nTAX ASSESSOR. Two per hundred, Your Grace;--all depends on what one is\ngood for.\n\nPEHR. Tell me, can't I withdraw while the gentlemen figure up? for I am\nboth hungry and thirsty.\n\nTAX ASSESSOR. Impossible! It must be done in the owner's presence.\n\nPEHR. O Lord, what trials! But I may be allowed to sit down at least?\n\nTAX ASSESSOR. As you please! [To assistants.] Two dozen plates\nwith beveled edges--write! Six wine-coolers, with handles of finer\nmetal--write! One sugar bowl, with sifting spoon, and two smaller\nditto--write! Two dozen knives, with handles of mother-of-pearl--brand\nnew--write!\n\nPEHR. See if I don't go crazy!\n\nTAX ASSESSOR. Dining table of oak, with double leaves--write! Six walnut\nchairs. [Enter Lawyer.]\n\nPEHR. One more!\n\nLAWYER. Your Grace is summoned to the City Court to have tax No. 2867\nlegalized before twelve o'clock this day.\n\nPEHR. The Court? Litigation? I never institute proceedings, sir!\n\nLAWYER. It's not a question of litigation--only to verify facts.\n\nPEHR. I don't wish to verify facts.\n\nLAWYER. But to put the case--\n\nPEHR. I don't want to put the case--I want my dinner! Butler, can't\nI take a sandwich? [Butler raises staff threateningly; enter petty\nconstable.]\n\nPEHR. Are there still more?\n\nPETTY CONSTABLE. Your Grace is summoned to the Bar tomorrow at eleven\no'clock for neglecting to keep the street clean.\n\nPEHR. Must I keep the street clean--I, who am such a rich man! What,\nthen, must I not do?\n\nPETTY CONSTABLE. It is the duty of every householder to keep clean in\nfront of his own house.\n\nPEHR. Etiquette, taxation, put the case, keep yard and street clean,\nhunger and thirst--is that the rich man's lot! Then I would rather be\na street sweeper and own myself. And I'm not allowed to turn these\ngentlemen out, who crowd into my room, and I cannot go my way when I\nchoose!\n\n[Enter petitioner, followed by a servant carrying two baskets of\npapers.]\n\nPEHR. Mr. Lawyer and Mr. Constable, can't the law protect an unfortunate\nrich man so that he may have peace in his home, or is the law only for\nthe poor?\n\nLAWYER. Your Grace can no longer be regarded as an individual; for when\none through riches has risen to the community's heights, one belongs to\nthe whole.\n\nPEHR. And so one is placed outside the law.\n\nLAWYER. [Smiles; glances about.] Above the law, Your Grace!\n\nPEHR. Ha--! What does this last friend want! Are there any presents in\nthose baskets?\n\nPETITIONER. Your Honorable Grace is appointed Church Warden--\n\nPEHR. [Interrupts.] Called--\n\nPETITIONER. Called to vote day after to-morrow.\n\nPEHR. Eleven o'clock--\n\nPETITIONER. Eleven o'clock-to be present at the election of the new\nRector. But before that, Your Grace must take part in the preliminaries\nwhich are here inclosed, and which are for the purpose of showing the\nincompetence of the opposing candidate for the office.\n\nPEHR. Must I read through two baskets full of papers between now and day\nafter to-morrow? No, no!\n\nPETITIONER. Perhaps Your Grace would like to give your vote to our\ncandidate--\n\nPEHR. Without having to read--is that permissible? Thank you, my good\nfriend! Pen and ink!\n\nPETITIONER. [Hands Pehr pen, ink and paper for signature.] Admirable! I\nthank Your Grace.\n\nPEHR. [Embracing him.] Ah, it is I that must thank you!\n\nBUTLER. [Raps on table three times with staff; servants enter with\ndishes.] Dinner is served. [All go except Pehr and butler.]\n\nPEHR. [Sits down at table.] At last! [Soft music.] See, now they go when\nhe commands; but when I beg, it's useless!\n\nBUTLER. It is not my command they obey, Your Grace, but the rules of\netiquette.\n\nPEHR. And they transcend my will?\n\nBUTLER. Laws are the agreements of many, and must of course come before\nthe individual's will.\n\nPEHR. I declare, he can answer all things! Now I shall enjoy myself at\nall events. Wine warms the heart, food warms the body--but where's the\npleasure in loneliness? Mr. Butler, do the rules of etiquette permit\nthat one has company when one is enjoying oneself?\n\nBUTLER. I almost believe that something in that way is required.\n\nPEHR. Well, then, I want--\n\n[First Friend enters and rushes into Pehr's arms.]\n\nFIRST FRIEND. Friend of my heart! So I see thee again after such a long\nseparation! And you are like yourself--a little thinner than when I last\nsaw you; but how's everything now, dear old chap?\n\nPEHR. [Eyeing him.] Oh, thanks, thanks--very well indeed, as--ahem--you\nsee. Pray take a chair and sit down.\n\nFIRST FRIEND. Why, bless my soul! I've just had dinner, but I'll go into\nyour ante-room and wait there while you finish yours.\n\nPEHR. No, that is just what you shall not do! I remarked a while ago\nthat I thought life so empty when one must sit alone at table. Take a\nchair and sit down.\n\nFIRST FRIEND. Dear old friend, if you insist I will sit beside you while\nyou dine; but it actually looks as though I had come here for a meal.\n\nPEHR. What matter even if it were so.\n\nFIRST FRIEND. [Protests.] Oh--!\n\nPEHR. Wait a bit--I'm not saying that it is so!\n\nFIRST FRIEND. [Seats himself.] So now you are in clover, as they say. It\nis pleasant to contemplate that fate can be so kindly, and it must\never rejoice a sensitive soul to see that some one is favored by fickle\nfortune. Not all--more's the pity!--can praise fickle fortune.\n\nPEHR. Indeed! Have you any grievances?\n\nFIRST FRIEND. I?\n\nPEHR. Yes--for I don't want to hear any hard-luck stories now, when I'm\neating. Won't you be good enough to favor me by trying a hazel-grouse?\n\nFIRST FRIEND. If you speak of favors, my friend!\n\nPEHR. Then you mustn't say \"my friend\"; you must call me by name.\n\nFIRST FRIEND. Christopher! You ask a service of poor me--can I then\ndeny you! [He begins to eat, his appetite increases during following\nrepartee. Pehr regards him with open-eyed wonder.]\n\nPEHR. One should never deny another anything?\n\nFIRST FRIEND. Well said! One should never deny oneself anything--one\nanother, I mean.\n\n[Enter Second Friend.]\n\nSECOND FRIEND. [Walking straight up to the table.] Good day, Goran! Do\nyou remember me? [Pehr Stares at him.] No you don't, but I remember you.\nYou see, I never forget my old friends! In the hour of need I look them\nup. Here you sit and eat and I have nothing to eat, therefore I say\nright out: Boy, here am I! [Seats himself at table.]\n\nFIRST FRIEND. [To Pehr.] Who is that tramp? He eats as though he had not\nseen food from Christmas to Easter!\n\nPEHR. Oh, he's a friend of mine.\n\nSECOND FRIEND. [To Pehr.] Who is that beggar? He stuffs himself like a.\nwolf in the springtime!\n\nPEHR. Oh, he is a good friend of mine.\n\nFIRST FRIEND. [To Pehr.] Beware false friends, Pehr!\n\nSECOND FRIEND. [To Pehr.] Beware false friends, Pehr!\n\nPEHR. Yes, yes!\n\nFIRST FRIEND. [To Pehr.] You'll see, he is going to borrow money from\nyou.\n\nSECOND FRIEND. [To Pehr.] If he asks for a loan from you, you must say\nno--for he never pays.\n\nPEHR. You don't say so! Well, good friends, don't you think this an\nexcellent repast?\n\nSECOND FRIEND. I never flatter!\n\nFIRST FRIEND. No, my friend, you only stuff yourself! I never flatter,\neither, but I cannot therefore mask the truth and must acknowledge that\nanything of this sort I have never before had a share in, and it has\nto be Christopher that offers such a treat! Your health, brother\nChristopher!\n\nPEHR. [Aghast.] Christopher?\n\nSECOND FRIEND. I'm a plain, everyday sort of man, and cannot make pretty\nspeeches--which I scorn, and the expression of which from such a source\nI can ascribe only to a secret desire to get money. That is my plain,\neveryday opinion.\n\nFIRST FRIEND. What insolence!\n\nPEHR. I must beg that no serious discussions interrupt this delightful\ngathering, which would be even more agreeable if it were sweetened by\nsome charming representative of the opposite sex.\n\n[A Woman appears.]\n\nPEHR. Behold!\n\nWOMAN. So you couldn't wait for me! That was most impolite, but I\nforgive you since you are my friend. There's my hand!\n\nPEHR. [Kisses her hand.] I beg a thousand pardons, my beauty, but I must\nhave been mistaken as to the day? Meanwhile, be seated. Will my friends\nmake room at my side? [Friends crowd nearer to him.] No? Well, he who is\nthe younger must do so. That perhaps you do not know? Then he who is my\nbest friend will voluntarily give up his place, for he is always just as\nnear to my heart anyhow. [Both friends give up their places.] I see that\nyou are both my best friends.\n\nWOMAN. And I your best friend among women. Am I not, Alonzo?\n\nPEHR. Quite right. And now as I raise the bumper, I want to drain it to\nFriendship! Friendship is like gold, for it is pure.\n\nWOMAN. [To friends.] How prettily he speaks!\n\nPEHR. Friendship is like the moon--\n\nTHREE FRIENDS. Bravo! Bravo!\n\nPEHR. For it borrows its gold--[Three Friends exchange glances]--from\nthe sun. And it darkens when the sun departs; true, is it not?\n\nALL THREE FRIENDS. [Sullenly.] Very well said!\n\nPEHR. But friendship is a fire; it must be fed if it is to be kept\nburning. You have given me your friendship, what have I to give you?\n[Three friends glance around.] You look on my gold. Alack, it is but\ndust as compared with your friendship!\n\nWOMAN. [Adroitly.] One must not despise the temporal because the eternal\nexists.\n\nFRIENDS. Admirably expressed!\n\nPEHR. Very well, I wish to reward your faith. See--all this gold I give\nyou!\n\nALL THREE FRIENDS. Ah! [They upset the table.]\n\nPEHR. But remember, I have told you that gold is nothing but dross.\n[Puts hand to mouth and paces back and forth.] O my God! I believe I'm\ndying!\n\nWOMAN. What's wrong with you, Alonzo?\n\nPEHR. I've got the toothache--oh, my teeth! You see that the rich man,\nalso, is exposed to the annoyances of life. [Friends, with gold pieces,\nmove toward doors.]\n\nPEHR. No, don't leave me alone in my misery--now, when I most need your\ncompany!\n\nFIRST FRIEND. Oh, a little toothache is not dangerous; it will soon\npass!\n\nSECOND FRIEND. Take some cold water in your mouth, then you'll be all\nright.\n\nWOMAN. Oh, the men! They are so sensitive to a little pain. You should\nsee a woman suffer!\n\nPEHR. Ah, don't forsake me! I suffer so terribly!\n\nFIRST FRIEND. I shall never forsake you! [Hand on door.] I'll run for\nthe dentist.\n\nPEHR. No, stay!\n\nSECOND FRIEND. [Near door.] No; as George's oldest friend it devolves\nupon me to--\n\nPEHR. You want to run away from me! Oh, I curse this gold! I curse you,\nfalse friends! [Gold pieces in their hands turn black.]\n\nALL THREE FRIENDS. He has deceived us--look, look! [All three are\nstricken with toothache and begin to moan.] Oh! Oh!\n\nPEHR. [Recovered.] Oh, it's only a little toothache; it will soon\npass.--Take cold water in your mouth, old friend, and then it will\ndisappear. [Woman faints.] Surely a woman will not faint for such a\nlittle pain! [Friends rush out.] Now run to the dentist and let him draw\nall your teeth, foxes! After that you'll not bite any more sheep.\n\nWOMAN. [Coming to.] Alfred! all have forsaken you; but I shall remain\nwith you.\n\nPEHR. Yes, but why should you? I'm as poor as the poorest; soon the\ntax collector will be coming around for the taxes, and he'll seize\neverything.\n\nWOMAN. [Snuggles up to him.] Then I want to be at your side to support\nyou--[seizes his hand and steals ring during following speeches] and\nextend to you the hand--\n\nPEHR. [Duped.] You! Can this be true?\n\nWOMAN. True? Look at me!\n\nPEHR. Ah, I have been told that woman is more faithless than man--\n\nWOMAN. She is wiser than man [puts ring on], therefore she is called\nfaithless. Oh, let me sit, I'm so unstrung! [Pehr leads her to a chair\nby the wall.]\n\nPEHR. Compose yourself, my friend; I have only frightened you.\n\nWOMAN. Give me a glass of wine; I feel so faint after all this\ncommotion.\n\n[Pehr goes over to table; wall back of the chair opens and woman\nand chair disappear. Only the hand with ring is seen as she is heard\nspeaking.]\n\nHa, ha--schoolboy! Learn from this not to trust a woman whom you have\ntricked!\n\n[Alone, Pehr runs to window and looks out, as he draws back his head, he\nhas the ears of an ass.]\n\nPEHR. Curses on gold, friendship and women! Now I stand alone--poor,\ndeserted--with a pair of long ears and without my magic ring! Had I\nknown that life was so utterly ignoble, I should have stayed at home\nwith the witch. Where shall I turn to now--without friends, without\nmoney, without house and home? Trouble awaits me at the door. Must I\nnow, in all seriousness, go out in the world and work for the attainment\nof my every wish? If only I were not so alone! Yet, why not as well be\nalone, since there is no such thing as friendship, and everything is so\nfalse and empty? Damnation!\n\n[Enter Lisa.]\n\nLISA. Don't curse, Pehr!\n\nPEHR. Lisa! You do not forsake me, although I forgot you in my\nprosperous days.\n\nLISA. It is in our need that we find our friends.\n\nPEHR. Friends? A curse on friendship!\n\nLISA. Don't, Pehr! There are real friendships in life as well as false\nfriends.\n\nPEHR. I have now tried the good things of life, and I found only\nemptiness and vanity!\n\nLISA. You have tried in your way--meantime you have made the first\nplunge of youth, and now you shall be a man! You have looked for\nhappiness in the wrong direction. Don't you want to go out and do good,\nenlighten your fellow-men, and be useful? For your clear vision can\npenetrate the perversion and crookedness which one finds in life.\n\nPEHR. And be a great man!\n\nLISA. Great or obscure, it is all one. You shall be useful--you shall be\na reformer who leads humanity onward and upward.\n\nPEHR. Yes, a reformer who will be honored and idolized by the people,\nand whose name will be on everyone's lips.\n\nLISA. Oh, how far you are from the truth, Pehr! You seek greatness\nonly for personal honor; you shall have it and you shall have a new\nexperience.\n\nPEHR. But how? My ring is gone!\n\nLISA. The qualities inherent in that ring are such that it can never be\naway from its owner.\n\nPEHR. [Looks at his hand.] Ah! See, there it is! Well, then, I want to\nbe a great man--a reformer; but you, Lisa, must follow me.\n\nLISA. Not yet. But I will follow thee at a distance, and when thou\ndost meet with sorrow and need and the sun of happiness is for thee\no'erclouded, then I will be near thee with my weak support. Go thou out\ninto life, see what wrongs are done there; but when 'midst filth and\nmire thou hast seen how even the flower of beauty thrives, then think on\nthis: Life is made up of both good and bad.\n\nCURTAIN\n\n\n\n\nACT THREE\n\nSCENE: A public square. To right, Courthouse arcade, above which there\nis a speakers' cage with places for Burgomaster and Councilmen; to left\nshoemaker's house, with shop window and sign; outside a bench and table,\nclose to them a hen-coop and water-tub. In the centre of the square\nstands a pillory, with two neck-irons on chains, above it a bronze\nfigure with a switch in its hand; to right centre, statue o f\nBurgomaster Hans Schulze, which leans toward a marble female statue\ncrowned with a laurel wreath. Background: view of city.\n\n[Pillory and Statue.]\n\nPILLORY. [Bows low to statue.] Good morning, Statue. Did you sleep well\nlast night?\n\nSTATUE. [Nods.] Good morning, Pillory. Did you sleep well yourself?\n\nPILLORY. To be sure I did--and dreamed also! Can you guess what I\ndreamed?\n\nSTATUE. [Crustily.] How should that be possible?\n\nPILLORY. Well, I dreamt--can you imagine it?--that a reformer came to\nthe city.\n\nSTATUE. What--a reformer? [Stamps.] Hell! how cold your feet get\nstanding here; but what does one not do for glory's sake! A reformer?\nThen he, too, is to have a statue?\n\nPILLORY. A statue--well, hardly! No, he had to play statue himself, at\nmy feet, while I clasped him around the neck with both arms. [Neck-irons\nclash.] You see, he was a real reformer, and not a charlatan, such as\nyou were in life!\n\nSTATUE. Oh, bosh! You should be put to shame!\n\nPILLORY. I should--but I always have justice on my side. [Swings\nswitch.]\n\nSTATUE. What, then, was his specialty?\n\nPILLORY. He was a reformer in street paving.\n\nSTATUE. In street paving? Pestilence and cowardice! He dabbles, then, in\nmy profession. [Bumps into female statue.]\n\nPILLORY. No; he does intelligently what you dabbled in, and you\nwouldn't be standing where you are had you not been the burgomaster's\nfather-in-law!\n\nSTATUE. Was not I the one who carried out the new idea of stone-paved\nstreets?\n\nPILLORY. Yes, that you did; but the idea was not new. And what did you\ndo? In place of the soft sand in which one formerly placed one's feet,\none must now balance oneself on jagged and rolly stones, which destroy\nboth feet and shoes--save on the street which leads from your house to\nthe tavern, where you let lay a footbridge of flat stones.\n\nSTATUE. And now this reformer--or charlatan--wants to undo what I did?\n\nPILLORY. He wants to tear up what you laid down and pave all the streets\nwith \"burgomaster\" stones, so that all may be equally comfortable.\n\nSTATUE. So he's a rabid radical!\n\nPILLORY. Yes, that's it, and he has no party politics back of him. You\nhad the wagonmaker, the shoemaker, the chiropodist and the burgomaster\nwith you, therefore you succeeded.\n\nSTATUE. He'd better be careful! Every stone which he removes from my\nwork the people will hurl at him, and woe be unto him if he touches my\nmemory!\n\nPILLORY. Let us hope that he unmasks you, you old fraud! Do you recall\nhow you happened to become one of the great ones after your death?\nFirst, at the funeral, the parson embroidered your virtues--for twenty\nmarks; the contractor, who had grown rich on your streets, delivered a\neulogy; the chiropodist, who acquired practice through your beautiful\nstreet stones, had a medallion struck of you; then the wagonmaker, who\nmade money patching up wagons, named a vehicle after you; and last, the\nshoemaker held a memorial fest in your honor. Then it was done! Your\nson-in-law, the burgomaster, sent out a subscription blank for a statue\nno one dared refuse, and now you stand there.\n\nSTATUE. Yes, I do, and it grieves you. To-day the Schulze Society\nwill come with wreaths and will sing the memorial song ordered by my\nson-in-law. I daresay having to stand and listen to it will make you\nwrithe.\n\nPILLORY. I can't dispute that, but in the end we shall see if I'm not a\ntrue dreamer!\n\nSTATUE. Hold your tongue! for here comes the Society.\n\nPILLORY. I shall have to hold my sides for laughter--three persons\nconstitute the whole Society! Last year they were six. You're a back\nnumber, Schulze. Soon you'll see that they will move you into the\nox-grove!\n\nSTATUE. A people who reverence their great men and cherish past events\ncan never sink so low as to consign their statues to the ox-grove.\n\n[Shoemaker comes out from his house and opens shop window.]\n\nSHOEMAKER. I believe there has been rain in the night, brother Schulze\nlooks so shiny. If it will only be fair weather when the singing society\nmakes its appearance! [Shouts back into the house.] Hans!\n\nHANS. [At window.] Yes, master.\n\nSHOEMAKER. Sit here by the window with your work, I'm going out to\nfulfil a civic duty.\n\nHANS. Yes, master.\n\nSHOEMAKER. If you don't watch out, I'll let the strap do a dance on your\nback! Do you hear that, knave?\n\nHANS. Yes, master.\n\n[Enter Wagonmaker, with a banner.]\n\nWAGONMAKER. 'Morning, Shoemaker.\n\nSHOEMAKER. Good morning.\n\n[Enter Chiropodist, with a laurel wreath.]\n\nCHIROPODIST. Good morning, good morning. Shall we wait for the\nburgomaster? I think we'd better hurry along, it's preparing for more\nrain.\n\nSHOEMAKER. That's just what I said to myself this morning, therefore I\nwas wise and brought my raincoat.\n\nWAGONMAKER. The people should now assemble here and form a procession,\nbut I don't see a cat! Shoemaker, didn't you tell the printer that we\nwere to celebrate the Memorial Festival to-day?\n\nSHOEMAKER. Why certainly, certainly!\n\nWAGONMAKER. Will the gentlemen please form a semi-circle around the\nobject's pedestal--so!\n\nCHIROPODIST. We might begin with the cantata--then perhaps the people\nwill come.\n\nWAGONMAKER. I can't understand why the burgomaster isn't here? He always\ntreated us to brandy other years.\n\nSHOEMAKER. If you start the song he'll wake up, if he has overslept\nhimself. Tune up, gentlemen--do, mi, sol, do!\n\nWAGONMAKER. Then, I'll begin--but watch out for the trio so as to make\nit a regular ear-splitting ensemble!\n\n    [Solo Recitative.]\n       Hail to thee, Burgomaster!\n       Hail to thee, benefactor!\n       Life burns our deeds within its envious fire,\n       But mem'ry, like a phoenix from the pyre,\n       Rises on stalwart wing to waft them higher.\n\nSHOEMAKER. Well whistled, Wagonmaker! Any signs of the grog yet?\n\nWAGONMAKER. Go on, Shoemaker! Now comes the aria; it must be rendered\nwith feeling. Then you shall see that the burgomaster will wake up!\n\nSHOEMAKER. [Sings aria.]\n\n            ARIA.\n\n  The breath of the rose and carnation-bud's fragrance, 'mongst\n       wonder-flowers' fated!\n    As false at heart\n    As glitter-wave,\n    She held toward him her billowy hair,\n    Where all the ocean's freshness breathes.\n  And lily so red and lily so white\n  Confidingly muse on death and life.\n\nCHIROPODIST. That was a rare strophe! But it doesn't seem to have any\nspecial bearing upon the subject and our present conditions. Where did\nyou get it?\n\nSHOEMAKER. Well, you see, I have an apprentice at home who is one of\nyour idealists; he does things of this sort when he's free, on Sundays.\n\nWAGONMAKER. If I may venture an opinion, I think it inconceivably\ndifficult to get at the pith of the strophe.\n\nSHOEMAKER. That's just the fine point, you see! But hush--methinks we\nhave the rain here. [Puts on coat.]\n\nWAGONMAKER. Do the gentlemen think it worth while to stand here in the\nrain and get soaked on that old duffer's account?\n\nSHOEMAKER. But we are paid to support the song and we must at least\ndo the trio before we go; for when we all pitch in together the object\nitself won't be able to sleep! The oration, on the other hand, can be\ngiven at any time; besides, there is too small a public for so big a\nspeech. We'll take the trio--do, mi, sol, do. It is not as ideal as the\naria, but it evinces greater familiarity with the specific conditions.\n[Rain patters, wind increases.]\n\nCHIROPODIST. Damned if I stand here any longer and catch cold for that\nold charlatan! Remuneration? Six marks each! One can do without that.\n\nWAGONMAKER. I think so, too.\n\nSHOEMAKER. Were you not in on the subscription for the statue, perhaps?\nWere you not there and helped, with a medallion, to turn him into a\ngreat man?\n\nWAGONMAKER. Well, we had to, didn't we? otherwise they would have downed\nus.\n\nSHOEMAKER. True--but it is ungrateful not to respect his memory. I shall\nsing the trio alone.\n\nCHIROPODIST. Oh, you can do it--you, with your sou'wester! I'm going\nhome to breakfast. [Flings wreath on pedestal, dashes hood of cloak over\nhead and runs off.]\n\nWAGONMAKER. This is the last time I'm going to lend myself to such\ntomfoolery! Good-bye!\n\nSHOEMAKER. [Alone.] And now I'm going to the burgomaster's for a brandy.\nBut first, I must deliver my speech to the old man on the pedestal;\nthen my conscience will be easier. [Talks to statue.] You think, you\nold Schulze, it is for your sake that we sing, for your sake that we\nspeechify; can't you comprehend that we do so for our own sakes? We need\na big man to push forward when we turn out to be too little ourselves.\nWe need your word to quote, since no one credits ours. Our little town\nneeded your statue in order to become a great city; your insignificant\nrelatives needed your statue to help them get on and find occupation in\nthis troublesome world--and therefore, mark you, you stand so high\nabove us all--a figure for naught but ciphers! Now you have heard a\ntrue remark, you poor wretch! the first and the last you'll hear,\nperhaps--[Alarmed.] Surely no one has been listening to what I said? Ah!\nhere comes the great man's relative.\n\n[Enter Relative.]\n\nRELATIVE. Good morning, Shoemaker. Have you heard--have you heard of the\nscurrilous attack?\n\nSHOEMAKER. What now? What's up, Herr Relative?\n\nRELATIVE. A reformer has come to the city; haven't you read his\nbroad-sheet?\n\nSHOEMAKER. No, no!\n\nRELATIVE. Oh, it is unprecedented--read for yourself!\n\nSHOEMAKER. I'm too agitated to read; you read it.\n\nRELATIVE. Then listen to what the scoundrel writes: \"A quarter of a\ncentury has hardly elapsed since Burgomaster Schulze gladdened this\ncommunity with weighty improvements as regards its street paving, by\ngiving us in place of the old sand-ground rough cobble stones.\" Do you\nhear! Do you hear!\n\nSHOEMAKER. Yes, I hear. But that was not very alarming.\n\nRELATIVE. Not alarming! Doesn't he call him Burgomaster Schulze? One\ndoes not say burgomaster of a dead man--one says Our Illustrious--Does\nnot the wretch write about rough cobble stones? Does he not attempt with\nthat to undermine _his_ worth?\n\nSHOEMAKER. But one cannot call it an attack, if he says that cobble\nstones are rough when they are rough.\n\nRELATIVE. Of course they are rough, but one must not say that they are\nwhen a great man is responsible for them. Have a care, Master Shoemaker!\nI see that you are a sceptic. Have a care--you know the consequences!\n\nSHOEMAKER. For God's sake, I'm no sceptic! Haven't I been standing here\nchanting odes to brother Schulze?\n\nRELATIVE. Brother! If you were a brother to him in life, please remember\nthat all titles are annulled by death. Will you admit that this is an\nattack?\n\nSHOEMAKER. Of course I will--Have I said anything to the contrary? Can\nyou prove that I said anything to the contrary?\n\nRELATIVE. No; but be careful! We hold Common Council here on the square\nat nine o'clock, when that reformer will speak for his cause. Do you\nknow what he wants?\n\nSHOEMAKER. No.\n\nRELATIVE. Can you imagine it! He wants to repave all our streets with\nflagstones.\n\nSHOEMAKER. But that's rather considerate of him.\n\nRELATIVE. [Laughs ironically.] Considerate? Oh, very! How will it\ngo, for example just to mention your calling--how will it go with the\nprecious shoemaking trade when the people no longer wear out any shoes?\n\nSHOEMAKER. What--what say you? Forgive me, my friend, but you are right.\nHowever, I'm not thinking of my humble calling, but of all the poor\ninnocent working men who will be robbed of their bread--and of their\npoor wives and children!\n\nHANS. [At window, makes faces.] Poor unfortunate workingmen!\n\nRELATIVE. You see, you see! [Pointing to statue.] He was the friend of\nthe poor, and he was a man that knew what he did!\n\nSHOEMAKER. You may depend upon it that both the wagonmaker and the\nchiropodist will share my opinion.\n\nRELATIVE. Am I quite sure of that?\n\nSHOEMAKER. In life and in death!\n\nRELATIVE. Happy the people who respect their great men! [Runs.]\n\n[Enter populace. Relative is talking with the wagonmaker and the\nchiropodist.] [The Courthouse clock strikes nine; two trumpeters and a\ndrummer come on and sound a call. When the music has ceased Pehr enters,\nand is joined by Street-Paver.]\n\nPEHR. Good morning, master. How do you think this matter will go for me?\n\nSTREET-PAVER. Badly, very badly!\n\nPEHR. Don't the people want improvements, then?\n\nSTREET-PAVER. There's no question as to that--it's a question of the\ngreat man's reputation, which you have attacked.\n\nPEHR. Have I attacked him? [Rain has ceased.]\n\nSTREET-PAVER. You called him _burgomaster_, and that title has become\na by-word in the town; you said that his paving stones were rough--in\na word, you have expressed the common opinion of the man, therefore you\nare ruined.\n\nPEHR. It's a very remarkable world that we live in!\n\nSTREET-PAVER. It's rather see-saw, and has its little eccentricities,\nbut do not try to help it, sir, for then it will send you straight to\ntophet!\n\nPEHR. The people are dissatisfied and when one wants to dig up the cause\nof their dissatisfaction, they throw stones at one! [A boy thrusts a\nleaflet into their hands, hurries along and distributes more among the\npopulace.]\n\nPEHR. [Glances at leaflet.] But this is outrageous! They have sketched\nus. Have I a nose like that?\n\nSTREET-PAVER. They have hit us off rather well--but surely I haven't\nsuch ears!\n\nPEHR. I can't understand this--Yesterday the editor was for the cause\nand to-day he abuses me.\n\nSTREET-PAVER. Public opinion, you see! He said to me, also, that he\napproved of this movement, but that he stared not defy public opinion.\n\nPEHR. A curious way of working for his cause! Who, then, is public\nopinion for him?\n\nSTREET-PAVER. First, the customers; then the burgomaster, money, and\npower.\n\nPEHR. Then why did he caricature you?\n\nSTREET-PAVER. Because I entered into your proposition. As a matter\nof course, I did it because I could make money by it. Meantime, he\nis selling hundreds of these poems to-day--[Trumpets and drum sound;\nBurgomaster, Councilmen and Clerks come out into speakers' cage.]\n\nBURGOMASTER. Well, my children, you must have heard that an impostor has\ncome to town.\n\nONE OF THE PEOPLE. He's no impostor; he is a reformer.\n\nBURGOMASTER. It comes to the same thing--but you must hold your tongue,\nmy lad, you have no vote!\n\nPEHR. Herr Burgomaster, I would beg that my proposition be presented in\na proper manner before this honored popular assembly--\n\nBURGOMASTER. Just listen to him! We know his proposition and it simply\nremains for us to express ourselves. Well and good, I consign it to the\nmadhouse! It is the man's wish--think of it, my children! that all may\nbe permitted to tread upon smooth pavements. So long as Our Lord creates\ndifferent kinds of human beings, there must be different kinds of stones\non our streets. Is there anybody who would add further remarks?\n\nONE OF THE PEOPLE. That isn't true! Our Lord does not create different\nkinds of human beings.\n\nBURGOMASTER. Who gave you permission to shriek?\n\nONE OF THE PEOPLE. Since we have no voice in things, we may at least be\nallowed to shriek!\n\nBURGOMASTER. Yes, shriek, and I'll put you in the lockup! There is no\none, of course, who has something to add?\n\nRELATIVE. Herr Burgomaster, as a man of honor, may I not be permitted to\nenter a protest against the scandalous attack that has been made?\n\nPEHR. I challenge the relative!\n\nBURGOMASTER. And I, on the other hand, attach more weight to the\nRelative's utterance since he is allied to a great man; that is always\nthe community's best guarantee--\n\nROOSTER. [From hen-coop outside the shoemaker's.] Cockelicoo!\n\nBURGOMASTER. What's that devilish racket?\n\nONE OF THE PEOPLE. That's one who is blessed with a voice!\n\nROOSTER. Cockelicoo!\n\nONE OF THE PEOPLE. Arrest him! [Laughter and groans.]\n\nBURGOMASTER. Quiet, back there! Secondly: Said adventurer has spoken\noutrageously of the administration in that he has made defamatory\nspeeches against the city's departed burgomaster. We would hear a few\nimpartial citizens--Master Shoemaker, what, in your opinion, does he\nmerit?\n\nSHOEMAKER. I vote with the administration.\n\nBURGOMASTER. Quite right; he should be held in contempt. What say you,\nMaster Chiropodist?\n\nCHIROPODIST. I concur.\n\nBURGOMASTER. And the wagonmaker?\n\nWAGONMAKER. I have the honor to agree with the last speaker.\n\nONE OF THE PEOPLE. Those who have the right to speak are silent.\n\nBURGOMASTER. Silence, back there! On the ground of what has already been\nadvanced, with the support of conclusive evidence, the adventurer named\nPehr [no family name] is hereby sentenced for vicious utterances against\nthe administration to stand in the pillory two hours, later to be\nexpelled from the city, to his everlasting disgrace and as a warning to\nothers.\n\nPEHR. Herr Burgomaster, the proofs are lacking.\n\nBURGOMASTER. We require none. Axiom, or self-evident points, neither can\nnor need be proved. Away with him! [Pehr is led off.]\n\nBURGOMASTER. Thirdly: In consideration of the vexatious as well as\nunforeseen incident that the city's dogs give unseemly expression\nto their inward feelings for the hideous around the pedestal of Hans\nSchulze's statue, an appropriation is demanded for an iron railing\naround the same. Surely no one will refuse a deserving man such trifling\nact of respect?\n\nQUALIFIED VOTERS. No!\n\nONE OF THE PEOPLE. That is the first time we've heard the voters say no!\n\nBURGOMASTER. Officer, put him in the lockup! The question has been\nanswered, then, in the affirmative.\n\nQUALIFIED VOTERS. Yes.\n\nONE OF THE PEOPLE. [Makes noise like a sheep.] B-a-a-a! [An instant of\nlaughter and commotion.]\n\nBURGOMASTER. The Common Council is adjourned. [Trumpets and drum sound,\nafter which silence on stage.]\n\nRELATIVE. [To Shoemaker.] He's an uncommonly firm expeditor, that\nburgomaster.\n\nSHOEMAKER. He ought to be in the Legislature--then it would go a little\nfaster with the common motions.\n\n[Burgomaster, Councilmen and Secretary go into Courthouse. People\ncontinue to circulate on square; Street-paver keeps aloof.]\n\nSHOEMAKER. [To Chiropodist, Wagonmaker and Relative.] Gentlemen, won't\nyou sit down and drink a glass of ale with me?\n\nCHIROPODIST, WAGONMAKER, RELATIVE. Thank you!\n\nSHOEMAKER. [At door, gives order; Hans brings on ale.] Well, Herr\nRelative, you did not choose to be present this morning at the memorial\nfest for your illustrious kinsman?\n\nRELATIVE. Where was the need of my going out in the rain? You were there\nwith the Society.\n\nSHOEMAKER. The whole Society! There were three of us.\n\nRELATIVE. Did you sing?\n\nCHIROPODIST. Yes, a little.\n\nRELATIVE. [Laughing.] Were there many people?\n\nWAGONMAKER. Not a soul!\n\nRELATIVE. And the burgomaster--\n\nSHOEMAKER. Overslept himself.\n\nRELATIVE. [Laughing.] Have you seen the _Morning Crow_?\n\nALL. No.\n\nRELATIVE. [Takes up a pamphlet.] Would you like to hear,\nthen--\"_Tribute_. The customary tribute paid by the Schulze Society to\nthe memory of our worthy citizen, whom we commemorate in bronze on the\ncity's public square, took place this morning in presence of a great\ncrowd of people that greeted the memorial songs, sung in honor of the\nillustrious departed, with hearty applause. The songs were rendered\nby the great chorus with the usual precision and good ensemble. The\noration, which had been prepared with the utmost care, was delivered in\nclear, resonant tones by the worthy shoemaker, Pumpen-Block. Among the\nnotables present we observed the city's burgomaster, the kinsman of the\ndeparted, and others.\" [All laugh.]\n\nRELATIVE. Isn't that rich?\n\nALL. Oh, it's priceless!--You wrote that.\n\nRELATIVE. By the by, have you seen the cartoon of the reformer and the\nstreet-paver? It's capital!\n\nSHOEMAKER. But it was a bit extravagant to caricature them in that way!\n\nRELATIVE. Oh, no sensible person has anything against the proposition;\nbut that it should fall into such hands--Hush, here he comes!\n\n[Pehr is led on by guards, who place him in the pillory and adjust\nneck-irons. The populace nudge each other and point at him. Shoemaker's\ncompany slightly embarrassed. Enter a lyre player and an old blind\nwoman, with a painted canvas on a pole. Old woman sings and points at\ncanvas, which is painted in six panels--one for each stanza.]\n\nOLD WOMAN.\n\n    There was a guileless youth\n      Who heard the people's wail;\n    Lawgivers sat in the square\n      And gaily quaffed their ale.\n\n    The youth to the people said:\n      \"I would make your pathway fair!\"\n    \"There's trouble,\" the rulers cried,\n      \"Sedition breeds in the air.\"\n\n    Still they sat in the square,\n      And still they quaffed their ale;\n    They talked of the people's good,\n      But heard not the people's wail.\n\n    The youth in the pillory stood,\n      For there he'd been given his place;\n    In the wag'nmaker's hen-coop the cock crew\n      As of yore in Caiphas' palace.\n\n    The great respect the law,\n      Their own renown they buy\n    With statues and tombs and gold\n      To praise them when they die.\n\n    The people pass under the yoke,\n      They wail through the vigils of night,\n    And wait till the cock shall crow\n      To herald an era of light.\n\n[Shoemaker's company make wry faces and pretend not to be listening; the\npeople are interested and drop pennies into the old woman's bank. The\nwomen are moved to tears and wipe their eyes now and then.]\n\nRELATIVE. [To shoemaker.] Have you many orders now-a-days?\n\nSHOEMAKER. Oh, so-so--\n\nOLD WOMAN. Give the old blind woman a coin?\n\nCHIROPODIST. Begging is prohibited, don't you know that?\n\nONE OF THE PEOPLE. She's not begging; she asks remuneration.\n\nSHOEMAKER. What kind of rot is he talking?\n\nONE OF THE PEOPLE. The Schulze Society is paid to sing for the statue\nyonder, but the men pocket the coins and stay away. This morning only\nthree were there.\n\nSHOEMAKER. [To his guests.] Think, they know all that goes on, the\nvillains!\n\nOLD WOMAN. Give the blind old woman a coin!\n\nRELATIVE. One must pay, to boot, for her croaking?\n\nONE OF THE PEOPLE. She sings better than the shoemaker sang this\nmorning, when we stood round the corner listening to him. He certainly\ndoes not sing ideally about carnations and roses, but a true word spoken\nat the right moment is also ideal!\n\nRELATIVE. If you don't go, old hag, you'll be locked up!\n\n[Thunder and lightning, wind, rain, commotion.]\n\nSHOEMAKER. Egad! it's raining again. Step inside, gentlemen. [They break\nup.]\n\nOLD WOMAN. Must that poor wretch in the pillory stand out in the rain?\n\nRELATIVE. If my kinsman, who is so great a personage, can stand outside,\nthen that fellow may as well stay where he is.\n\nSHOEMAKER. It cools these reformers off so nicely to get a little cold\nwater over them. [Trips, stubs toe against a stone.] The damned\ncobble stones! [Hops into house on one leg. Exit all but Pehr and Old\nWoman--Lisa.]\n\nLISA. [Throws off disguise.] Well, Pehr! You have become a famous man;\nyour name is now on every one's lips, your picture is being carried\nround on all streets and public squares and the people hail you as a\nreformer. Are you satisfied?\n\nPEHR. Yes, Lisa, now I am satisfied with being a reformer!\n\nLISA. Shall you leave your work half-done?\n\nPEHR. Yes, Lord save us! If only I can escape with my skin.\n\nLISA. You sought glory and renown--\n\nPEHR. But all do that!\n\nLISA. Not all. But you had the approval of the people.\n\nPEHR. The people! They have nothing to say.\n\nLISA. So it was the approval of the great that you wanted. Then stand\nthere and be ashamed! You did not even believe in the cause for which\nyou stood.\n\nPEHR. Frankly, I think it a matter of slight consequence whether one\nwalks upon smooth or rough stones.\n\nLISA. When one walks in calfskin boots--yes; but not when one goes\nbarefooted!\n\nPEHR. Moreover, the community isn't worth a straw; the whole thing is\nonly a sham! _The common good, the common good_--one never talks of\nanything else. What, then, is the common good? It strikes me as being an\nagreement between a few private individuals.\n\nLISA. It should be everyone's good, but it isn't. Make it so, and it\nwill be so.\n\nPEHR. I want to--oh, I want to do it, but I haven't the power!\n\nLISA. Then get it, Pehr, and let's see if I have made a mistake.\n\nPEHR. [Breaks irons and comes down stage.] You shall see, Lisa, that I\nwill do something big when I have the power.\n\nLISA. Why something big? Something good would be better.\n\nPEHR. But you must always be by my side, Lisa. What was it that the bird\nin the wood sang?\n\nLISA. That I will tell you next time.\n\nPEHR. No, now!\n\nLISA. He said: \"I love you!\"\n\nPEHR. Won't you love me, Lisa?\n\nLISA. Yes, when you love me.\n\nPEHR. But I do!\n\nLISA. No, you do not; so far you love only yourself. Out again, Pehr,\nand learn something! There are not many wishes left to you; the greatest\nbut most dangerous one is ahead of you--Power! That is the highest thing\na frail mortal can attain. But woe to him who misuses it! He is the\nworld's greatest criminal, for he makes a caricature of Our Blessed\nLord! Farewell, King! thy crown awaits thee! [Disappears.]\n\nPEHR. Oh, my queen!\n\nCURTAIN.\n\n\n\n\nACT FOUR\n\nSCENE ONE.\n\nInterior of a palace in Oriental style. To right a throne, before it a\ntable, with royal regalia; to left a divan, pillows arranged on floor in\na semi-circle.\n\nAt rise of curtain The Ameer discovered lying on floor writing on a\npaper scroll.\n\n[Enter Chamberlain of the Caliph.]\n\nCHAMBERLAIN. Is that the young Caliph's genealogical chart?\n\nAMEER. Yes, Chamberlain.\n\nCHAMBERLAIN. It certainly looks very imposing. Whom leave you given him\nas progenitor?\n\nAMEER. Caliph Omar, of course.\n\nCHAMBERLAIN. I think that Haroun-al-Raschid would have been better.\n\nAMEER. He was certainly more popular--but in that case our gracious\nsovereign would not be related to the ancient house.\n\nCHAMBERLAIN. Very true. Will you be ready soon? We expect him at any\nmoment.\n\nAMEER. Has your Excellency seen the new caliph?\n\nCHAMBERLAIN. Yes; he looks like all the rest--It is only the\ngenealogical tree that separates him from us.\n\nAMEER. Yes, the genealogical tree!\n\nCHAMBERLAIN. [Examines ancestral chart again.] You have got an awful\nwidth to it!\n\nAMEER. I had to put in a bastard line; it looks so flourishing on\npaper, and gives to the race a semblance of strength, which is always\nflattering.\n\nCHAMBERLAIN. [Laughs.] What will the Caliph Omar say to this?\n\n[Enter Court Mullah.]\n\nMULLAH. Allah akbar barai! How dost?\n\nCHAMBERLAIN. Allah! Eloim! I thank you, excellently.\n\nMULLAH. Is the Renunciation Act made out in duplicate form?\n\nCHAMBERLAIN. In duplicate form. Will you be good enough to compare, then\nhe will only have to add his signature.\n\nMULLAH. If there's time enough, it would be the better way.\n\n[Chamberlain takes two papers from table and hands one to the Mullah.]\n\nCHAMBERLAIN. [Reads aloud.] \"We, Omar the twenty-seventh, do hereby\nsolemnly forswear our--the Roman Catholic--faith, and adopt the\nMohammedan doctrine as it is determined in the Koran and the sacred\nwritings.\"\n\n                  Dated, etc.\n                         OMAR.\n\nCorrect?\n\nMULLAH. Correct.\n\n[Enter Pehr--Grand Vizier and Royal Historian having entered just before\nhim. Ameer jumps up from the floor with the genealogical chart; Royal\nHistorian stands quietly and jots down in a book what he hears.]\n\nVIZIER. Will it please Your Highness to scan this ancestral chart, which\nour--and the Kingdom's Ameer has made of Your Highness' illustrious old\nfamily tree.\n\nPEHR. My ancestral chart? I have never known of any relative but my\nfather, the old sexton.\n\nVIZIER. [Pretends not to hear.] It begins with a great and glorious\nname--Caliph Omar--\n\nPEHR. Caliph Omar! What kind of fish is that?\n\nVIZIER. [Sternly.] That is no fish. He was a great and honorable ruler.\n\nPEHR. Be that as it may, but I was born in wedlock and not between satin\nsheets, good gentlemen!\n\nVIZIER. It does not become a ruler to be selfish; he must in all\nparticulars sacrifice his personal interests and tastes for the welfare\nof the people.\n\nPEHR. Very good; but does the welfare of the people demand that I shall\nbe illegitimate?\n\nVIZIER. Yes.\n\nPEHR. Then hand me the paper! [Ameer delivers ancestral chart and a\npen.] It begins with a lie, and will probably end with theft. [Signs.]\n\nVIZIER. There remains a slight formality--Will it please Your Highness\nto sign this paper also. [Mullah presents Renunciation Act.]\n\nPEHR. What now?\n\nVIZIER. Your Highness need not trouble himself to road; it is only a\nmatter of form.\n\nPEHR. Renounce my forefathers' Faith--But that outrageous!\n\nVIZIER. Political considerations--the people's welfare--\n\nPEHR. I must become a Mohammedan and may not drink a glass of wine?\n\nVIZIER. There are substitutes in all politics.\n\nPEHR. What are they?\n\nVIZIER. Compromises, modifications--\n\nPEHR. Circumventions, eh?\n\nVIZIER. Will it please Your Highness to sign?\n\nPEHR. But I shall despise myself if I begin with a low action, and all\nthe more will the people have the right to despise me!\n\nVIZIER. The people demand that the ruler sacrifice all personal\nconsiderations for their welfare.\n\nPEHR. Their welfare, then, is to be built upon a lie and a crime?\n\nVIZIER. [Goes toward window.] Your Highness, the people await their\nchief. They are always ready to offer their sweat and blood for the\nruler, therefore they demand, also, that the ruler make his sacrifices.\n\nPEHR. Is what you say true? Well, then, give it me! [Accepts\npaper--hesitates.] The belfry, the chimes, the singing, the lights,\nChristmas--all pass before mine eyes! No more Christmas Eve! Life is so\npitiless; it only demands, but never gives anything!\n\nVIZIER. Your Highness, the people are clamoring! They would see their\nchief in the attire of the old caliphs--the crown and sceptre await to\nbe borne anew by a branch of the old ancestral tree.\n\nPEHR. [Catches sight of crown and sceptre.] Ah! Vizier, who can command\nme to forswear my faith?\n\nVIZIER. The laws.\n\nPEHR. Who made the laws?\n\nVIZIER. Our forefathers.\n\nPEHR. They were weak mortals, like ourselves. Well and good, I'll make\nover all the laws!\n\nVIZIER. The Caliph does not reconstruct laws, for our form of\nadministration has not given him law-making rights.\n\nPEHR. What is the form of administration in this land?\n\nVIZIER. Constitutional Despotism.\n\nPEHR. Answer! Am I Caliph, or not?\n\nVIZIER. You will be as soon as you have affixed your signature.\n\nPEHR. Then hand me the paper! [Signs. Enter Viziers, Court Attendants,\netc. Crowning Ceremony.]\n\nPEOPLE. [Without.] Long live Omar the twenty-seventh! Allah, Allah,\nAllah!\n\nVIZIER. Will it please Your Royal Highness to ascend the throne and\nbegin the reign?\n\nPEHR. That will be quite diverting. Admit the people!\n\nVIZIER. The people? The people have nothing to do with the Government!\n\nPEHR. But surely I shall have someone to rule over?\n\nVIZIER. That is done in writing. [Takes out a few documents.]\n\nPEHR. Proceed!\n\nVIZIER. In order to spare Your Royal Highness the weighty burdens of\ngovernment on this, the first day of his reign, we have tabled all\npetitions but one, which can very easily be disposed of.\n\nPEHR. That was stupid, but it can't be helped now. Let's hear it!\n\nVIZIER. Aschmed Sheik, with face in the dust and with his heart's\nprayers, begs that he may go over to the Sunnees' faith.\n\nPEHR. What is the Sunnees' faith?\n\nVIZIER. It is a sect, a dangerous sect.\n\nPEHR. In what particular does it differ from the--ahem!--true doctrine?\n\nVIZIER. A true Moslem greets Allah in this manner--[crosses hands on\nbreast] but a sectarian does like this--[Pinches his nose and pokes his\nfingers into his ears.]\n\nPEHR. [Laughing.] Well, can't the man poke his fingers in his ears?\n\nVIZIER. No; the laws of the land do not permit it.\n\nPEHR. There is no religious liberty, then?\n\nVIZIER. Yes, for the _true_ faith.\n\nPEHR. But for the others?\n\nVIZIER. There must be no others!\n\nPEHR. Then I shall give them religious liberty!\n\nVIZIER. That the Caliph can not do.\n\nPEHR. Who can, then?\n\nVIZIER. The Government alone.\n\nPEHR. Who is the government?\n\n[Vizier and all others present place a finger to mouth.]\n\nPEHR. A secret?\n\nVIZIER. That is the constitutional despotism's secret.\n\nPEHR. But I had the liberty of changing the religion?\n\nVIZIER. Politics is another matter!\n\nPEHR. Then God save all peoples from politics! Must I begin my reign\nwith the refusal of an humble petition?\n\nVIZIER. Your Highness cannot begin better than by strengthening the laws\nof the realm.\n\nPEHR. But I'll never sign!\n\nVIZIER. It is not necessary; the Administration will attend to that.\nThe Cabinet is adjourned. Will it please Your Highness to lay aside his\nofficial attire and return to private life, with its petty diversions.\nThe Chamberlain is at Your Highness' service. [Goes.]\n\n[The Chamberlain removes Caliph's crown and sceptre and conducts him to\ndivan. Enter Dancers, Singers and Poet Laureate. The Dance.]\n\nPEHR. What is this company?\n\nCHAMBERLAIN. This is the Court.\n\nPEHR. Why do they wear such short dresses? I do not like that custom.\n\nCHAMBERLAIN. It is the custom of the country, Your Highness.\n\nPEHR. This at least is not politics.\n\nCHAMBERLAIN. The first Court Singer begs that she may entertain\nYour Highness with an idealistic song written by the celebrated poet\nlaureate, Hourglass-Link.\n\nPEHR. Be good enough to entertain me!\n\nSINGER. [With lute, sings.]\n\n    Then say farewell to Horaire, the march is already broken.\n    O army, hast thou the strength to say a farewell!\n\nPEHR. Where's the rhyme?\n\nPOET LAUREATE. There are no rhymes in this kind of poetry.\n\nPEHR. That's bad! Continue--\n\nAMEER. [Aside to historian.] He's not long for this place.\n\nSINGER. Your Highness must pardon me, but I am indisposed to-day.\n\nPEHR. Chamberlain, is there not something in the constitution called\nbastinado?\n\n[Panic.]\n\nCHAMBERLAIN. Assuredly--but--\n\nPEHR. [To singer.] Continue, then!\n\nSINGER. [Sings.]    Marble brow, flowing hair, sparkling rows of teeth,\n    She steps as light as the pacer, lest she soil her hoof in the mud.\n\nPEHR. Mud? I don't like dirt in poetry. Go on!\n\nSINGER.    Swelling bosom, slender waist, throbbing now anew;\n    As she gives each fresh embrace, she is like to break in two!\n\nPEHR. Oh--!\n\nSINGER.    O happy man with perfume laden\n      Man of high estate!\n    Who may in some dreary hour\n      Hold her in his sweet embrace.\n\nPEHR. That will do! Where's the author? Author!\n\nPOET LAUREATE. Your Highness, I have not learned to flatter.\n\nPEHR. Haven't you? That's a poor poet laureate! Then play up your\nstrophe so we may hear if you lie.\n\nPOET LAUREATE. Your Highness--surely I can never question--\n\nPEHR. Don't talk--just reel off!\n\nPOET LAUREATE.\n\n    The soul hath lost itself since love's flame it hath grasped,\n  Nor doth it awaken to reason, under the witchcraft of eyes.\n    But my love for hinds I leave--\n\nPEHR. Pardon--what did you say?\n\nPOET LAUREATE.  [Irritated.]\n\n  My love for hinds I leave and cherish a noble prince,\n  Generous and well born--nor tainted by low base deeds;\n  The prince who hath vanquished his foemen. Whatever the cost might be,\n  Strong in the Faith is he! Heresy's dreaded scourge!\n\nPEHR. [Springs to his feet.] Do you mean it seriously or are you joking?\n\nPOET LAUREATE. I mean it seriously, Your Highness. How should anything\nelse be--\n\nPEHR. Indeed! It is in all seriousness, then, that you praise my low\nactions?\n\nPOET LAUREATE. Your Highness stands as high above low actions as the sun\nabove a mud-puddle!\n\nPEHR. I know you and your gang, counterfeiter! You call me, who\nforeswore my faith, the Defender of the Faith; you say that I, a\nbell-ringer's son, am of royal descent; that I am generous, who refused\nto grant the first humble petition presented since my coming to the\nthrone! I know you, for your kind is to be found the world over. You\nlive for thought and immortality, you say; but you are never seen when a\nthought is to be born; you are never felt when it comes to a question of\nimmortality. But around heaped up dishes, in the sunlight of affluence\nand power, there you swarm, like fat meat flies, only to fly away that\nyou may set black specks upon those who can let themselves be slain for\nboth thought and immortality. Out of my sight, liar! I would have your\nhead removed did I not see the shadow of a purpose in your presence.\nA poor ruler is forced by political considerations to do so many\ndespicable things that he would die of shame did he not have an\ninstitution like you to dull his conscience continually. Go! I would be\nalone.\n\nCHAMBERLAIN. Your Highness, it cannot be.\n\nPEHR. It can be! [All go out except Pehr and Royal Historian.]\n\nPEHR. What are you waiting for? What do you do?\n\nHISTORIAN. I am writing Your Highness' history.\n\nPEHR. So you are Court Historian.\n\nHISTORIAN. Royal--\n\nPEHR. What matter, once you're dead! But what shall you write about? I\nhave never carried on any wars.\n\nHISTORIAN. That is just what I wish to speak about. Your Highness only\nneed turn to the Minister of War--\n\nPEHR. Then he will arrange one; that is his occupation, and for that he\nis paid 20,000 shekels.\n\nHISTORIAN. It is the people, Your Highness, who--\n\nPEHR. Conduct the wars. The Minister of War makes them, while we sit at\nhome and take the glory--the shame we never take.\n\n[Enter Vizier.]\n\nVIZIER. The bride is waiting.\n\nPEHR. The bride! Who? Where? What does it mean?\n\nVIZIER. Your Highness' consort.\n\nPEHR. Lisa! She loves me still, despite all my faults? Conduct her\nhither. She shall bring the fresh air of the forest into these musty\nhalls!\n\nVIZIER. Your Highness wished first to sign the marriage contract.\n\nPEHR. I'm forever writing! No, this time I don't have to read. [Signs.]\nNow, Royal Historian, you can put down at least one action in my life\nthat was not crime! [Vizier and Historian go.]\n\n[Bride, veiled in Oriental fashion, is ushered in; attendants withdraw\nimmediately; from behind is heard soft music.]\n\nPEHR. [Runs toward bride.] Lisa, Lisa! You always come like a sunbeam\nwhen the clouds thicken--always like a friend in the dark hour!\n\nBRIDE. [Raises veil.] My name is not Lisa.\n\nPEHR. Not Lisa--What does this mean? Treachery! Who are you then?\n\nBRIDE. Your consort.\n\nPEHR. My consort!\n\nBRIDE. [Indifferently.] The Administration had three candidates for you:\nThe Vizier's choice fell upon me because my father threatened you with a\ntariff treaty.\n\nPEHR. The administration's candidate--tariff treaties--what does that\nsignify?\n\nBRIDE. Politics require that princes shall sacrifice their personal\nconsiderations for the good of the people.\n\nPEHR. Politics require--But does the good of the people require any\nprinces?\n\nBRIDE. I don't know--but it's done once for all, and now you are my\nhusband. Have the goodness to be happy, or you will be miserable.\n\nPEHR. Are you happy?\n\nBRIDE. I am nothing.\n\nPEHR. Do you love me?\n\nBRIDE. No, certainly not! And you me?\n\nPEHR. No!\n\nBRIDE. You love your Lisa?\n\nPEHR. And you your--\n\nBRIDE. Ali.\n\nPEHR. O misery and lamentation!\n\nBRIDE. Calm yourself a moment--One moment, while they come in and\ncongratulate us. The bridal procession is waiting without. Silence! They\nare nearing; stand at my side!\n\nPEHR. Must I go forth again, and jest?\n\nBRIDE. Obey me, for I'm a wise woman! When they go I shall tell you my\nplan. Here they come! Look pleasant, husband, else they will say that I\nmade you unhappy.\n\nPEHR. Dear old father, how right you were! Black is black and can\nnever be white. [Pehr and bride seat themselves on divan and assume a\nsentimental attitude.]\n\n[Enter Singers, Dancers, Chamberlain, Ameer, Royal Historian, Vizier.]\n\n             _Chorus of women sing_:\n      Joyous the loving hearts\n      That bleed from cupid's darts!\n    Ye nightingales and ye roses sing,\n    Noble halls and courtyards ring!\n      The Caliph's court rejoices\n      And echoes love's true voices.\n\n[Pehr and bride hide their agitation.]\n\nVIZIER. Caliph, a happy people, whom you find assembled here, at the\nfoot of the throne, rejoice as they see happiness, like a sun, beam in\nyour eyes to shine on the white rose which long hath sought the tall\noak's trunk to lean upon; a happy people, youthful princess, rejoice in\nyour good fortune and hope that your tree may have off-shoots with fresh\nrose buds, which, at some future day, may spread joy and bliss, like a\nspring rain, over land and kingdom!\n\n[Pehr leaps up and draws his sword, bride attempts in vain to calm him.]\n\nPEHR. Hell and Damnation! You grand vizier of lies! and you, dressed\nup adventurers, are you my people! Are these hired maidens, with their\nvenal tricks, my people who pay taxes to us that we may say nay to their\nhumblest request? No! I have never seen my people. Is this young woman,\nwhom you have placed by my side, my mate who loves me? No--She is a\nheifer that you have let into my stall; she is an imp who is to shoot\nbranches on the genealogical tree; she is an administration's candidate\nwho makes happy her spouse with a tariff treaty. You call us happy\nbecause we pretend to be; but we are most unhappy, for we stand near the\nbrink of a crime, which, praise God, we shall never commit. I curse you,\npalace! dedicated as a temple of lies. Down in the dust with you, false\nfamily tree! [Genealogical chart drops from wall and rolls up on floor.]\nBreak into shatters, crown and sceptre, tyranny's symbols! [Crown and\nsceptre come down with a crash.] Tumble throne, where unrighteousness\nis seated! [Throne collapses. Thunder, lightning, storm.] Scatter like\ndecoys, fortune hunters and outcasts that have placed yourselves between\nnoble and commoner! [All but bride disappear. To bride.] You lamb of\nsacrifice, be free like myself! Now I want to go out into Nature and see\nif honor and decency do not still live! [Bride vanishes; Pehr remains\nstanding, hands to face, until scene is changed.]\n\n\nSCENE TWO.\n\nSeashore with wreckage of cast up seaweed, etc. To left an up-rooted\noak-stump, fishing tackle and hulk of a wrecked vessel. Background: open\nsea; seamews float on waves. To right cliff-shore with pine woods; lower\ndown is a hut.\n\nPEHR. Where am I? I breathe freer--All evil thoughts flee! I sense a\nperfume as of old romances; I hear a murmur, like far-away streams; the\nground under me is soft as a bed. Ah--it is the seashore!\n\nO Sea! Thou Mother Earth's good mother! Be greeted by an old and\nwithered heart Which comes that it may be by thy moist winds Swept clean\nand freshened; Which comes to thy salt waves for cleansing baths And\nhealing for the sores the world's lies and madness gave to it.\nBlow wind, and fill with thy pure air My lungs, that breathed in\npois'n-filled vapours; Sing wave, and let mine ear be soothed By the\nharmonies of thy pure tones, As I stand here 'mongst the wreckage on the\nstrand, A wreck myself, which the breakers cast upon the sand When the\nvessel crashed 'gainst the sharp cliff-rocks! Be greeted, Sea, that\nnurses healthy thoughts And recreates the soul in shrunken body When\nevery spring thy billows break And gull and swallow chatter 'bove thy\nwave, To wak'n anew the joy of life, and strength, and hope!\n\n[Sees hut.]\n\nWhat's this? A human habitation! Not even here is a moment's peace\ngranted me--Maledictions!\n\nA VOICE. Curse not!\n\n[It darkens and the sea begins to rise, moving toward him during\nfollowing speech so that he is forced down stage.]\n\nPEHR. Who spoke? [Tries to flee toward left and is met by elk.] Wild\nbeasts stop me! [Tries to flee toward right, but is intercepted by\nbulls.] Even here--Back! [Animals come on stage and crowd around him.]\nThey surround me! Help! [Runs to but and knocks.] Is no one here? Help,\nhelp! [Attempts to cast himself into the sea, but sea-serpents and\ndragons rise up.] Ah, nature, even you are a savage monster that would\ndevour all you come upon! You, my last friend, tricked me also--What\nterror's visions! The sea would swallow me. What is my life worth more?\nCome, Death, and set me free! [Sea gradually subsides.]\n\n[Enter Death; beasts vanish.]\n\nDEATH. Here am I, at your service! What would you me?\n\nPEHR. [Cowers, but recovers himself.] Oh, really!--It was nothing\nespecially pressing--\n\nDEATH. You called me!\n\nPEHR. Did I actually do that? Well, it is only a form of speech which we\nuse; I really want nothing of you.\n\nDEATH. But I want something of you! Stand straight on your legs and I'll\ncut; it will be over in no time. [Raises scythe.]\n\nPEHR. Mercy, mercy! I don't want to die!\n\nDEATH. Bosh! What has life to offer you who have no wishes left?\n\nPEHR. That one does not know; if one might stop to consider, then\nperhaps--\n\nDEATH. Oh, you have had ample time; now it is too late. Straighten your\nback so that you may fall like a real world-hater! [Lifts scythe.]\n\nPEHR. No, no, for God's sake, wait a little--\n\nDEATH. You're a timid beggar! Live on then if you think it anything; but\ndon't regret it later. I shall not come again for a long time. [Starts\nto go.]\n\nPEHR. No, no, no! don't leave me alone--\n\nDEATH. Alone? Why, you have lovely Nature!\n\nPEHR. Yes, it's all very well when the weather is fine and the sun\nshines, but thus late--\n\nDEATH. You see now that you cannot live without your fellow men. Knock\nthree times on the door over yonder, and you will find company. [Death\nvanishes. Pehr knocks three times on door of hut; the Wise Man comes\nout.]\n\nWISE MAN. Whom seek you?\n\nPEHR. A human being! In short--I'm unhappy.\n\nWISE MAN. Then you should not seek human beings, for they cannot help\nyou.\n\nPEHR. I know it, yet I would neither live nor die; I have suffered all,\nand my heart will not break!\n\nWISE MAN. You are young, and do not know the human heart. In here I have\nlately been pondering the causes of mankind's misery. Would you like to\nsee how the little object called the human heart looks? [Steps into hut\nand returns presently with a casket and a lantern, which he hangs on a\ntree.]\n\nYou see the little three-cornered muscle, which now has ceased to\nbeat--Once it throbbed with rage, thumped with joy, cramped with sorrow,\nswelled with hope. You see that it is divided into two large chambers:\nIn one lives the good, in the other the evil--or, with a word, there\nsits an angel on one side of the wall and a devil on the other.\nWhen they chance to be at odds with each other--which happens quite\noften--there is unrest in the person and he fancies the heart will\nburst--but it doesn't, for the walls are thick. Oh, yes, look at this\none! Do you see thousands of little scars from needle thrusts? They did\nnot go through, but the pricks remain nevertheless.\n\nPEHR. Who has borne this heart, Wise Man?\n\nWISE MAN. The unhappiest of humans.\n\nPEHR. And who was that?\n\nWISE MAN. It was a man. Do you see the marks of a heel; do you see the\nnail-prints? It was a woman that trampled on this heart for twenty-six\nyears.\n\nPEHR. And he did not tire?\n\nWISE MAN. Yes, he grew weary one Christmas Eve and freed himself from\nher. As a punishment, he came under the ban of the Powers; he cannot\ndie, although his heart has been taken from him.\n\nPEHR. Can he never be released from the spell?\n\nWISE MAN. When his son shall have found a faithful woman and brought\nher home a bride, then the spell will be broken. But that can never be\nbecause his son is gone forever.\n\nPEHR. What has become of him?\n\nWISE MAN. He went out in the world.\n\nPEHR. Then why can he never get any bride, poor boy!\n\nWISE MAN. Because one who loves only himself can never love anyone else.\n\nPEHR. He means the old man, my father. [Wise Man sinks through floor;\nbut vanishes. It begins to dawn.]\n\nPEHR. \"He who loves only himself \"--So said Lisa also--But I hate\nmyself, I loathe myself after the cowardly things I have done, and I\nlove Lisa! Yes, I love her, I love her! [Sun shines on waves and lights\nup pine woods to right; clouds disperse. A boat is seen out at sea, it\ncomes nearer and nearer and Lisa is seen at the rudder. She beckons to\nPehr as the boat recedes.]\n\nSea-gulls in the air, tell her! Sunbeams, carry my words on your pillars\nof fire, and bear them to her. But where must I seek thee--where? [Boat\nis seen on horizon a moment.] It is she! Now, ring, fulfill my last wish\nand take me to her! The ring is gone! Woe, what does this augur? Is my\nstory ended, or shall it now begin perhaps? Lisa, my soul's beloved! [He\nruns up on cliff and waves.] If you hear me, answer; if you see me, give\nme a sign! Ah--she turns out toward the fjord--Well, then, storm and\nsea, that separate me from all that my heart loves, I challenge you to\nbattle for the highest prize! [Pushes out boat drawn up on shore.]\n\nBlow, wind, and rock, wave! My weak keel shall cleave you like a sword.\nOn, my boat, even though we miss the goal, let us struggle on till we\nsink!\n\nCURTAIN.\n\n\n\n\nACT FIVE\n\nSCENE: Interior of a little country church, with frescoed ceiling. At\nback, centre, altar with crucifix; to left, pulpit; on a pillar down\nleft an image of Saint Bartholomew with skin in hand; directly opposite,\non a pillar, image of Saint Laurence with the grill. Broom is propped\nagainst altar railing. Two rows of praying stools at right and left\nsides form an aisle from front to altar. At right a confessional; at\nleft an iron door.\n\n[The Elf stands in one window, the Fairy in the other.]\n\nELF. It was not the old man that ate up the porridge, it was the rats.\n\nFAIRY. Then it was not to do Pehr a kindness that you sent him out in\nthe world, but to harm the old man!\n\nELF. Even we immortals can make mistakes. Let, us make amends for our\nfault.\n\nFAIRY. If it is not too late?\n\nELF. How so?\n\nFAIRY. Pehr is a misanthrope and cannot become reconciled to life.\n\nELF. Lisa will rectify all that, and then the old man will have atoned\nfor his sin. One must patch where one has torn.\n\nFAIRY. I have already made my preparations.\n\nELF. Here?\n\nFAIRY. Here in this sanctuary whose floor we may not tread.\n\nELF. And why not? True, it is holy ground, and we were not allowed\nto become participants in the Great Redemption because--well, because\nsomething which we mustn't know about came between. But that does not\nprevent the humans from believing some good of us; and in that they\ndo right, for the matter has its sides. Meantime, I shall not absent\nmyself--even if I may not be near to witness that this reconciliation\ncomes out all right. Even we lost souls can rejoice in the happiness of\nothers. Farewell, but not for long.\n\nFAIRY. Farewell. [Elf and Fairy vanish.]\n\n[Enter Lisa.]\n\nLISA. Here in this peaceful church the good fairy promised me that I\nshould meet him--How shall I behold him now? Has he learned aught of\nlife, or is he still the same selfish, pleasure-loving youth who pursues\nonly fickle fortune? If he had had the courage to do a bad act in a good\ncause, then he would at least have shown that he could make a sacrifice\nfor something besides himself; for the most that we can give to a cause\nis our precious regard for ourselves. Higher powers demand that such and\nsuch shall take place; they choose the instruments where they will and\nnone may give up the commission, even if it means going under. My friend\nwas not that sort, and therefore, therefore--Hush! I hear footsteps--It\nis he! No, I would not meet him yet; I must collect my thoughts. If I\nconceal myself here--in the confessional--[Steps in.]\n\n[Enter Pehr.]\n\nPEHR. [Drops down on a prayer stool, left.] She flees from me, as I\nflee from my bad thoughts! Alone, forsaken--what more is there for me in\nlife? Naught have I learned of life save its nothingness, and no wishes\nare left to me but evil ones. My soul would be like an empty shell were\nit not filled with her! My life--Ah, what has it been? [Pall pounds on\nfloor.] What was that?--Ghosts in the sunshine? That would be a funny\nsight! [Broom raps on floor.] Again! 'Tis said that one can see ghosts\nin broad daylight, if one peeps through a door-crack, it is even\nmaintained that one can see oneself. _Oneself_--! If one could really\ndo that, how easy it would be to evade one's worst faults! I'll try it.\n[Opens door left and places himself behind it.]\n\n[Pehr's shadow steps up into the pulpit, drinks from the goblet, and\nturns hour-glass. Pehr stands at door with back to spectators.]\n\nSHADOW. My beloved hearers! [Pall, Broom, Bartholomew and Laurence\nstir.] My beloved hearers and you, Pehr, who stand behind the door,\nmy sermon will not be long since the hour is already late and it is\nespecially to this so-called _Lucky Pehr_ that I would address a few\nremarks. Yes, you, Pehr--you have rushed through life like a fool, in\npursuit of fortune; all your wishes have been fulfilled--save one and\nthey have brought you no happiness. Pay attention, you who stand behind\nthe door! You have made no leap through life, for on that track one runs\nwell. All the experiences through which you think you have passed were\nbut dreams; for, believe me, one wins no wishes with luck-rings out here\nin Reality; here one gains nothing without labor. Do you know what labor\nis?--No! It is something very heavy; but it must be heavy the sweeter\nthe repose--Labor, Pehr, and be honest, but don't become a saint, for\nthen you would be vain, and it is not our virtues but our faults that\nmake us human. Listen well, you who stand behind the door--Life is not\nsuch as you saw it in your youthful dreams. It is a desert, that is\ntrue; but a desert which has its flowers; it is a stormy sea, but one\nthat has its ports by verdant isles. Heed, Pehr! If you want to go forth\ninto life now, then do it in earnest. But you will never be a _real_\nman without a woman--Find her! And now, pay close attention, Pehr, for\nI shall leave the word to Saint Laurence after dismissing you with the\nsage's eternally young and eternally old exhortation--Know thyself!\nSaint Laurence has the word. [Shadow vanishes.]\n\nSAINT LAURENCE. [Presents his grill.] I am the holy Saint Laurence with\nthe grill, who, at Emperor Dicii's command was beaten with thongs seven\ndays in succession and afterwards was broiled on this grill by a slow\nfire. There is no one who has suffered so much as I!\n\nSAINT BARTHOLOMEW. What is that to speak of! I am the holy Saint\nBartholomew with the skin, who, at Emperor Pamphilii's command was\nflayed alive clear down to the knees; and what miracles happened after\nmy death! You perhaps have never heard of the mysteries or of the devil\nin woman shape and the prognostication about the volcano?\n\nSAINT LAURENCE. What is that to speak of as compared with mine? I have\nsix miracles: The beam in the church, the crystal chalice, the Nun's\ncorpse--\n\nPALL. [Rises up.] Oh, boast moderately of your sufferings. I am only a\npall, but for fifty years I have borne on my back so many corpses,\nand have seen so much suffering--so many shattered hopes, so much\ninconsolable grief, so many torn hearts that suffered in silence and\nwere thrust into oblivion without the solace of gilded statues--that you\nwould be silent had you seen one-half of it. Ah, life is so black, so\nblack, so black!\n\nBROOM. [Raps on floor and rustles its straws.] What--you chatter about\nlife, old Pall, you who have seen only death? Life is black on one side\nand white on the other. To-day I'm only a broom, but yesterday I stood\nin the forest, so stout and trim, and wanted to be something great.\nThey all want to be great, you see, so it happened as it happened! Now\nI think like this: What comes is best; since you couldn't be great, you\nmay as well be something else; there is so much to choose from--One may\nof course be useful, and at worst one can content oneself with being\ngood, and when one has not been given two legs to stand on, one must be\nhappy anyhow and hop on one. [Broom goes bumping along and finally leans\nagainst altar.]\n\nPEHR. [Walks rapidly over to holy-water fount, by confessional, takes\nholy-water sprinkler and sprinkles out into the church.] Away, spectres\nand evil spirits! [As he lays back sprinkler a noise is heard from the\nconfessional.] Someone is there! Reverend Father, hear me and accept the\nsighs of a broken heart!\n\nLISA. [In assumed voice--from confessional.] Speak, my son.\n\nPEHR. How shall I leave my dreams?\n\nLISA. Oh, you have dreamed enough and you are no longer young. Think of\nyour missteps--have you not made such?\n\nPEHR. Yes, I have pursued fortune and have sacrificed conscience and\nhonor in order to win fame and power. Now I cannot bear misfortune, and\nhate myself!\n\nLISA. Then you have ceased to love yourself above all else?\n\nPEHR. Yes.--I would free myself from _self_--if I could.\n\nLISA. Then, Pehr, you can also love another.\n\nPEHR. Oh, yes! But where shall I seek her?\n\nLISA. [Comes out.] Here! [They embrace.]\n\nPEHR. Now you will not leave me again?\n\nLISA. No, Pehr, for now I believe you love me.\n\nPEHR. What good fairy sent you across my pathway?\n\nLISA. Do you still believe in good fairies? Mark you, when a little baby\nboy is born into the world, a little baby girl is also born somewhere;\nand they seek and seek until they find each other. Sometimes they go\namiss as to the right one, then it turns out badly; sometimes they never\nfind each other, then there is much sorrow and affliction; but when\nthey find each other, then there is joy, and it is the greatest joy life\nholds.\n\nPEHR. It is Paradise Found!\n\n[Enter sexton, with staff--The old Man in the tower.]\n\nSEXTON. The church must be closed.\n\nLISA. See, now he drives us from Paradise!\n\nPEHR. That he cannot do.--We carry it with us and lay it, like the\nverdant isle, out in the stormy sea.\n\nSEXTON. [Lays down his staff.] Alongside the peaceful harbor, where the\nwaves break up and go to rest.\n\nPEHR AND LISA. Father! Father! [Fairy and Elf appear, each in their\nwindow.]\n\nCURTAIN.","title":"Lucky Pehr","tradition":"myth-cosmogony","translated_text":null,"word_count":18220}