August Strindberg

“ JUDGE. The mausoleum! Where we were to have rested in peace!
PRINCE. Shaded by a dozen wreaths.
JUDGE. Who is that?
PRINCE. [Pointing to the OLD LADY] She is my sister, and so you must be my brother-in-law.
JUDGE. Oh—that lazy scamp!
PRINCE. Look here! In this place we are all lazy scamps.
JUDGE. But we are not all hunchbacks!
PRINCE. [Strikes him a blow on the mouth] Don't touch the hunch or there will be hell to pay!
JUDGE. What a way to treat a man of my ability and high social position! What a Christmas!
PRINCE. Perhaps you expected your usual creamed codfish and Christmas cake? ”

“ PRINCE. I am afraid—don't ask again!
SWANWHITE. He snaps his bill, that's all—Keep your hands still!—Did you ever hear the tale of the little princess that mustn't mention the name of the prince, lest something happen? And do you know——?
The curtain hiding the peacock is pulled aside, and the bird is seen spreading out his tail so that it looks as if all the "eyes" were staring at SWANWHITE and the PRINCE.
PRINCE. Who pulled away the curtain? Who made the bird behold us with its hundred eyes?—You mustn't ask again!
SWANWHITE. Perhaps I mustn't—Down, Pavo—there! ”

“ BISKRA. [Pulls out the aloe plant and pushes it under Guimard's legs] There's a stool for you.
GUIMARD. And then water!—Water!
BISKRA. [Fills the empty bowl with sand and hands it to GUIMARD] Drink while it's cold.
GUIMARD. [Putting his lips to the bowl] It is cold—and yet it does not still my thirst! I cannot drink it—I abhor water—take it away!
BISKRA. There's the dog that bit you!
GUIMARD. What dog? I have never been bitten by a dog.
BISKRA. The Simoom has shrivelled up your memory—beware the delusions of the Simoom! ”

“ BISKRA. Can't you see your own high cheek-bones? Can't you see the eyes that the vultures have picked out? Don't you know that gap on the right side of the jaw where you had a tooth pulled? Can't you see the hollow in the chin where, grew the beard that your Elise was fond of stroking? Can't you see where used to be the ear that your George kissed at the breakfast-table? Can't you see the mark of the axe—here in the neck—which the executioner made when he cut off the deserter's head——
GUIMARD, who has been watching her movements and listening to her words with evident horror, sinks down dead. ”

“ Once more the peacock makes a rattling sound with his bill; the doves begin to stir; the three maids enter, one after the other; a gust of wind is heard, and the tops of the rose-trees outside swing back and forth; the golden clouds that have been hanging over the sea disappear, and the blue sea itself turns dark.
SWANWHITE. Does Heaven itself intend to judge us?—Is ill-luck in the house?—Oh, that my sorrow had the power to raise my mother from her grave!
PRINCE. [.Putting his hand on his sword] My life for yours! ”

“ The harp is silent for a moment before it starts a new melody.
The game of chess ends and SWANWHITE seems to be talking with her invisible partner. Suddenly she moves away as if he were coming too close to her. With a deprecating gesture she leaps lightly to her feet. Then she gazes long and reproachfully at him. At last she snatches up the white garment and hides herself behind the bed.
At that moment the PRINCE appears outside the gates, which he vainly tries to open. Then he raises his eyes toward the sky with an expression of sorrow and despair. ”

“ LOUISE. Unassailable?
MASTER. Things straighten out much better if you don't mess them up still further by interference. How can you want me to direct matters where so many passions are at play? Do you think I can suppress anybody's emotions, or give them a new turn?
LOUISE. But how about the child?
MASTER. I have surrendered my rights—and besides—frankly speaking—I don't care for them—not at all now, when she has been here and spoiled the images harboured in my memory. She has wiped out all the beauty that I had cherished, and now there is nothing left. ”

“ THYRA. Grandmother has said that we mustn't shake the tree, but I thought we could play around the tree so that one might fall down anyhow—of itself.
ERIC. Now you are stupid, Thyra. That would be exactly the same thing. [Looking up at the tree] Oh, if only a peach would fall down!
THYRA. None will fall unless you shake.
ERIC. You mustn't talk like that, Thyra, for that is a sin.
THYRA. Let's pray God to let one fall.
ERIC. One shouldn't pray God for anything nice—that is, to eat!—Oh, little peach, won't you fall? I want you to fall! ”

“ YUSUF. [From below] Simoom! Simoom!
GUIMARD. What an infernal jugglery!
BISKRA. Now I'll sing!
BISKRA and YUSUF. [Together] Biskra-biskra, Biskra-biskra, Biskra-biskra! Simoom!
GUIMARD. [Rising] What are you, you devil who are singing with two voices? Are you man or woman? Or both?
BISKRA. I am Ali, the guide. You don't recognise me because your senses are confused. But if you want to be saved from the tricks played by sight and thought, you must believe in me—believe what I say and do what I tell you. ”

“ Goes out firmly, with a gesture that bids her not to follow. SWANWHITE falls on her knees in prayer for the DUKE; all the rose-trees sway before a wind that passes with the sound of a sigh; the peacock shakes its wings and tail.
SWANWHITE. [Rises, goes to the peacock and begins to stroke its back and tail] Pavo, dear Pavo, what do you see and what do you hear? Is any one coming? Who is it? A little prince? Is he pretty and nice? You, with your many blue eyes, should be able to tell. [She lifts up one of the bird's tail feathers and gazes intently at its "eye".] ”

“ There is not one memory that can bring light into this darkness. When I look at her who was the first love of my youth, I see nothing but a corpse. When I think of my sweet Amelia, there appears—a harlot. The little ones make faces at me like gutter-snipes. My court has become a pigsty; the vineyard, a rubbish-heap full of thistles; and the mausoleum—Oh, horrors!—an outhouse! When I think of the green woods, the leafage appears snuff-coloured and the trunks look bleached as mast tops. ”

“ The CONSUL enters through the hallway.
MASTER. Is that you, Carl Frederick?
The music stops.
CONSUL. It is I.
MASTER. Where have you been so long?
CONSUL. I had some business to clear up. Have you been alone?
MASTER. Of course! Come and play chess now.
CONSUL. I prefer to talk. And you need also to hear your own voice a little.
MASTER. True enough—only it is so easy to get to talking about the past.
CONSUL. That makes us forget the present.
MASTER. There is no present. What's just passing is empty nothingness. One has to look ahead or behind—and ahead is better, for there lies hope! ”

“ For on this earth there is not anything that can part us. Swanwhite. Not anything!
PRINCE. I see you, though my eyes cannot behold you. I taste you, too, because with roses you are filling up my mouth——
SWANWHITE. But in my arms I want you!
PRINCE. I am there.
SWANWHITE. No! Against my heart I want to feel the beat of yours—Upon your arm I want to sleep—Oh, let us, let us, dearest God—oh, let us have each other!
The swallows chirp. A small white feather falls to the ground. SWANWHITE picks it up and discovers it to be a key. With this she opens gates and doors. The PRINCE comes in. ”

“ Lard! [He tries to spit] Not a drop of saliva left!—Water—water—or I'll bite you!
The wind outside has risen to a full storm.
BISKRA. [Puts her hand to her mouth and coughs] Now you are dying, Frank! Write down your last wishes while there is still time—Where is your note-book?
GUIMARD. [Takes out a note-book and a pencil] What am I to write?
BISKRA. When a man is to die, he thinks of his wife—and his child!
GUIMARD. [Writes] "Elise—I curse you! Simoom—I die——"
BISKRA. And then sign it, or it will not be valid as a testament.
GUIMARD. What shall I sign?
BISKRA. Write: Lâ ilâha illâ 'llâh. ”

“ STUDENT. But what have I done?
STRANGER. You don't have to do anything in order to be arrested. To be suspected is enough.
STUDENT. Then everybody might be arrested!
STRANGER. Exactly! The rope might be laid around the neck of the whole race if justice were wanted, but it isn't. It's a disgusting race: ugly, sweating, ill-smelling; its linen dirty, its stockings full of holes; with chilblains and corns—ugh! No, an apple-tree in bloom is far more beautiful. Or look at the lilies in the field—they seem hardly to belong here—and what fragrance is theirs!
STUDENT. Are you a philosopher, sir? ”

“ You bear me witness to the shameful deed! Put chains and fetters on the traitor and send him to his rightful lord! But in the spiked cask put the hussy. [The PRINCE and SWANWHITE wake up] Equerry! Gaoler! Seize the prince!
The EQUERRY and the GAOLER lay hands on the PRINCE.
PRINCE. Where is my sword? I fight not against evil, but for innocence!
STEPMOTHER. Whose innocence?
PRINCE. My bride's.
STEPMOTHER. The hussy's innocence! Then prove it!
SWANWHITE. Oh, mother, mother!
The white swan flies by outside.
STEPMOTHER. Maids, bring shears! I'll cut the harlot's hair! ”

“ BISKRA. If I know how to hate?—My hatred is boundless as the desert, burning as the sun, and stronger than my love. Every hour of joy that has been stolen from me since the murder of Ali has been stored up within me like the venom back of a viper's tooth, and what the Simoom cannot do, that I can do.
YUSUF. Well spoken, Biskra, and the task shall be yours. Ever since my eyes first fell upon you, my own hatred has been withering like alfa grass in the autumn. Take strength from me and become the arrow to my bow. ”

“ STRANGER. Oh, well, one has so many dreams in youth, and in old age too, for that matter. Besides, what's the use of bothering about what happened so long ago?
SJÖBLOM. How you talk! Perhaps you can give me back my wasted life——
STRANGER. No, I can't, but I am under no obligation to do so, either. That trick with the yarn I had learned at school, and you ought to have learned the proper names of the colours. And now you can go to—one dauber less is a blessing to humanity!—There's Mrs. Westerlund!
SJÖBLOM. How you do talk. But I guess you'll get what's coming to you!
MRS. WESTERLUND enters. ”

“ BISKRA. Don't you know that the Simoom makes the brains of the white people dry as dates, so that they have horrible visions which disgust them with life and cause them to flee into the great unknown?
YUSUF. I have heard of such things, and in the last battle there were six Franks who took their own lives before the fighting began. But do not place your trust in the Simoom to-day, for snow has fallen in the mountains, and the storm may be all over in half an hour.—Biskra! Do you still know how to hate? ”

“ PRINCE. Indeed! You know my sword?
STEPMOTHER. What is the matter with your sword?
PRINCE. It bleeds at times.
STEPMOTHER. Well, well! But not with women's blood, I trust?—But listen, Prince: how would like to sleep in our Blue Room?
PRINCE. By God, it is my will to sleep at home, in my own bed——
STEPMOTHER. Is that the will of anybody else?
PRINCE. Of many more.
STEPMOTHER. How many?—More than these!—One, two, three——
As she counts, the members of the household begin to pass by in single file across the balcony ”

“ O-ho! O-ho! Behold, the ceiling has a hole, and I can see the sky—a tiny piece of sky, a window-pane—and there's a face behind it. Is it an angel's?—See—but see, I tell you!—It's your face!
PRINCE. The angels are not boys, but girls.
SWANWHITE. But it is you.
PRINCE. [Looking up] 'Tis a mirror.
SWANWHITE. Woe to us then! It is the witching mirror of my stepmother, and she has seen it all.
PRINCE. And in the mirror I can see the fireplace—there's a pumpkin hanging in it!
SWANWHITE. [Takes from the fireplace a mottled, strangely shaped pumpkin] What can it be? It has the look of an ear. ”

“ PRINCE. [At a sign from THE OTHER ONE he strikes the JUDGE in the face] Don't argue!
JUDGE. They won't even listen to me! It is beyond despair! No mercy, no hope, no end!
THE OTHER ONE. Quite right! Here you find only justice and retribution—especially justice: an eye for an eye and a tooth for a tooth! Just as you wanted it!
JUDGE. But among men there is pardon—and that you don't have here.
THE OTHER ONE. Monarchs alone possess the right to pardon. And as a man of law you ought to know that a petition for pardon must be submitted before it can be granted. ”

“ The STEPMOTHER withdraws backward, dragging her legs behind her like a panther.
DUKE. Now for the prince!
The STEPMOTHER stops on the balcony, rigid as a statue. She opens her mouth as if she were pouring out venom.
The peacock and the doves fall down dead. Then the STEPMOTHER begins to swell. Her clothes become inflated to such an extent that they hide her head and bust entirely. They seem to be flaming with a pattern of interwoven snakes and branches. The sun is beginning to rise outside. The ceiling sinks slowly into the room, while smoke and fire burst from the fireplace. ”

“ STRANGER. That's what you say, but I should rather have said "lamp," in order to choose a more significant word. However, you had better hide your feelings, my dear fellow, if you can—I can hide mine!—We were talking of that lamp, were we not? How about it?
STUDENT. Which lamp?
STRANGER. Well, well! Every one of them lies and denies!—The lamp that was placed in the cook's closet and set fire to the house?
STUDENT. I know nothing about it.
STRANGER. Some blush when they lie and others turn pale. This one has invented an entirely new manner.
STUDENT. Are you talking to yourself, sir? ”

“ YUSUF. Hail to you, mother of Ben Yusuf—for you are to bear the son of Yusuf, the avenger—you!
The wind is increasing. The curtain in front of the door begins to flap. A red glimmer lights up the room, but changes into yellow during the ensuing scene.
BISKRA. The Frank is coming, and—the Simoom is here!—Go!
YUSUF. In half an hour you shall see me again. [Pointing toward a sand pile] There is your hour-glass. Heaven itself is measuring out the time for the hell of the infidels! ”

“ The stage grows light again. The rose on the table recovers and opens. The faces of the STEPMOTHER and the three maids are lighted up and appear beautiful, kind, and happy. The STEPMOTHER lifts up her drowsy head and, while her eyes remain closed, she seems to be watching the joy of the two young people with a sunny smile.
SWANWHITE. Look, look! The cruel one is smiling as at some memory from childhood days. See how Signe the False seems faith and hope embodied, how the ugly Tova has grown beautiful, the little Elsa tall.
PRINCE. Our love has done it. ”