The Tragedy of Mister Morn (17 page)

the poor thing lost a lot of blood; the child

is dead and the mother has lost her second

soul—the dearer one. But she seems better …

Only, you know, I am no doctor—I used

what books I had, but still …

KLIAN:

Dandilio!

My dear Dandilio! My wonderful, my radiant

Dandilio! … I cannot, I cannot …

for they will catch me here! I am doomed!

DANDILIO:

I must confess, I was not expecting such

guests; you could have warned me yesterday:

I would have decorated the parrot’s cage—

he’s very gloomy for some reason. Tell me,

Klian—I was busy with Ella, I didn’t fully

understand—how was it that you escaped

with her?

KLIAN:

I am doomed! How awful …

What a night! They forced their way … Ella

kept asking where the child was … The crowds

broke into the palace … We were overcome:

for five terrifying days we fought against

the hurricane that was the people’s dream;

last night all fell to ruins: they hunted us

through the palace—myself and Tremens,

others too … I ran, with Ella in my arms,

from hall to hall, through inner galleries,

and back again, and up and down, and heard

the howls, the shots, and once or twice Tremens’s

cold laugh … How Ella moaned, how she moaned!

Suddenly—a scrap of curtain, a chink behind it,—

I tugged: a passage! You understand—a secret

passage …

DANDILIO:

Of course I understand … It was,

I should think, needed by the King,

so he could fly away unnoticed—and,

then, after his winged adventures, return

to his labours …

KLIAN:

… and so I stumbled

in the sepulchral darkness, and walked and walked …

Suddenly—a wall: I pushed—and found myself

miraculously in an empty alley!

Only a gunshot sounded from time to time

and tore the air at its seam … I remembered

you live nearby—and so … we came to you …

But what shall we do next? To stay with you

would be madness! They will find me! Indeed,

the whole city knows you were once friendly

with mad Tremens, and christened his daughter! …

DANDILIO:

She is weak: she won’t survive another

such excursion. But where is Tremens?

KLIAN:

He fights …

I don’t know where … He himself advised me,

the day before, that I bring my sick Ella

to you … but it is dangerous here, I

am doomed! Understand,—I don’t know how,

I don’t know how to die, and it’s too late—

I won’t learn now, there is no time! They’re

coming for me now! …

DANDILIO:

Flee alone.

You still have time. I’ll give you a false

beard and glasses and you’ll be on your way.

KLIAN:

You think so?

DANDILIO:

Or if you want, I have the masks

that people used to wear on Shrovetide

in bygone days …

KLIAN:

… Yes, you may mock!

You know yourself that I will never abandon

my weak Ella … That’s where the horror lies—

not in death, no,—but in the fact that some

sort of whimpering feeling has inhabited

my blood, a mixture of untold jealousy

and shunned desire, and such tenderness

that all sunsets are but puddles of paint

beside it—such is my tenderness!

No one knew! I am a coward, a viper,

a flatterer, but here, in this …

DANDILIO:

Enough, friend …

Calm down …

KLIAN:

Love has squeezed my heart

in its palms … holds it … won’t let it go …

If I pull it—it contracts … But death

is near … yet how can I tear myself

from my own heart? I’m not a lizard, I can’t

grow it back …

DANDILIO:

You’re rambling, calm down:

it’s safe here … The street is sunny and deserted …

Where is death to be seen? On the spines

of my sleepy books there is a smile.

And my blessèd parrot is calm as a vision.

KLIAN:

That bird dazzles my eyes … Please understand,

they will descend upon us now—there is

no way out! …

DANDILIO:

I sense no danger:

a blind rumour blown in from the south,

that the King is alive, has intoxicated

souls with an unheard-of joy; the city is so

tired of executions that, having finished

with Tremens, the chief madman, they will

hardly start searching for his accomplices.

KLIAN:

You think so? Yes, it’s true, the sun is shining …

And the gunshots have died down … Shall I open

the window, shall I look out? Eh?

DANDILIO:

Moreover,

I have this little thing … shall I show you?

Here, in this soft case … My talisman …

Here, look …

KLIAN:

The crown!

DANDILIO:

Wait, you’ll drop it …

KLIAN:

Do you hear? … O, God … Someone … On the stairs …

Ah!

DANDILIO:

I said you’d drop it!

[
Enter
TREMENS.
]

TREMENS:

Golden thunder!

I’m touched! But in vain were you preparing

to crown me. Congratulate me, Klian: half

a kingdom is promised for my bald pate! …

[
to
DANDILIO
]

Tell me, blithe old man, when and how

did you come by that piece of lustre?

DANDILIO:

One

of those who searched the palace sold it to me

for a gold coin.

TREMENS:

Well, well … Give it here. It fits.

But I confess, right now, I would prefer

a nightcap. Where is Ella?

DANDILIO:

Nearby. She’s sleeping.

TREMENS:

Ah … good. Klian, why are you whining?

KLIAN:

I can’t … Tremens, Tremens, why did I follow

you? You are death, you are the abyss!

We will both perish.

TREMENS:

You’re absolutely right.

KLIAN:

My friend, my leader … You are the wisest of all.

Save me—and Ella … Teach me—what should

I do? … My Tremens, what should I do?

TREMENS:

What should you do? Sleep. I shiver once more;

once more that naked concubine—fever—

clings to my stomach with her cold thighs,

strokes, strokes my back with her icy palms …

Give me something to throw over my shoulders,

old man. That’s it. Yes, my dear Klian,

I am convinced that our friends were right

when they warned us that … By the way,

I executed all four of them—

they tried to betray me … All I needed!

I am going to sleep. Let the soldiers

find me themselves.

KLIAN:
[
cries out
]:

Ah! …

DANDILIO:

Don’t shout …

don’t. There. I knew that would happen.

[
ELLA
enters from the right
.]

TREMENS:

My daughter, Ella, do not fear: all is well!

Klian here is singing his latest poems …

ELLA:

Father, are you wounded? There’s blood.

TREMENS:

No.

ELLA:

Your hand is once more, once more cold …

and your nails, they look as though you’ve eaten

wild strawberries … I will stay here, Dandilio …

I will lie down, give me a pillow … Really

I feel better … All night they fired … My child

cried … But where is your cat, Dandilio? …

DANDILIO:

Some prankster struck it with a stone bottle …

Otherwise I would not have bought the parrot …

ELLA:

Yes, the fiery one … Yes, I do

recall … We drank to its health … Ah!

[
laughs
]

“And yet I fear you … For you are fatal then …”

—where is that from? Where’s it from? No,

I have forgotten.

KLIAN:

Enough … Ella … my love …

close your eyes …

ELLA:

… You are as pale as a fresh

pine-board … and droplets of resin … I don’t

like it … Go away …

KLIAN:

Forgive me … I won’t, I just …

I wanted to fix your pillow … There …

[
He sinks down at her bedside
.]

TREMENS:

What was I saying? Yes, they search badly;

there, around the senate, around the palace,

the people crowd about, cleaning the royal

chambers, airing the carpets, and sweeping up

my cigarette butts and Ella’s hairpins …

Very amusing! And what an amusing rumour,

that apparently a burglar—somewhere in the south,

you see—climbed into the house and whacked

the owner on the head—who, in turn,

if you please, turned out to be that very ruler

who abandoned his city half a year ago …

I know, I know, these are all fantasies. But

with just such a fantasy they swept me aside.

There, Ella sleeps. It’s also time for me …

The chill strokes, creeps up my back … But

it’s a shame, Dandilio, that the imaginary

thief did not destroy the made-up king! …

You laugh? Do I joke well?

DANDILIO:

Yes, poor Ganus!

He was unlucky …

TREMENS:

What do you mean—Ganus?

DANDILIO:

Well, he received the letter … Ella told me …

How well the poor girl sleeps … Klian,

cover her feet with something …

TREMENS:

Listen, listen,

Dandilio, perhaps amongst your antique toys,

your dusty knick-knacks, your magic books,

you have half a dozen good warm shirts?

Lend them to me …

DANDILIO:

I would have given them

to you sooner, but they would have been

too small for you … What is it you want to say?

TREMENS:

Once, Dandilio, we were friends, we argued

about art … Then I became a widower …

Then the revolt—the first one—enthralled me,

and we met less frequently … I am not inclined

to idle sentimentality, but in the name

of that distant friendship, I ask you,

tell me clearly, what do you know of the King! …

DANDILIO:

What, have you not understood? It was all

so simple. Once, four years ago, having

come to your house, I lingered in the hall

amongst the coat-hangers, in the rough darkness,

and two people entered; I heard their quick

whispers: “My sovereign, it is dangerous, he is

an unrestrained rebel …” The other laughed

in response and whispered: “You wait downstairs,

I won’t be long.” And again quiet laughter …

I hid. After a minute, he left and, slapping

his glove, ran down the stairs—your carefree guest …

TREMENS:

I recall … of course … How did I not connect …

DANDILIO:

You were immersed in dusky thoughts. I kept

silent. We saw each other rarely: I don’t like

cold and gloomy people. But I remembered …

Four years passed—I still remembered; and then,

when I met Morn at those recent parties,

I recognized the laughter of the King … Then,

when on the day of the duel you substituted …