CHORUS:
"A thing of beauty is a joy forever:
It's lovliness increases; it will never
Pass into nothingness, but still will keep
A bower quiet for us, and a sleep
Full of sweet dreams, and health, and quiet breathinkg.
Therefore, on every morror, are we wreathing
A flowery band to bind us to the earth,
Spite of despondence, of the inhuman dearth
Of noble natures, or the gloomy days,
Of allthe unhealthy and o'erdarkened ways
Made for our searching: yes, in spite of all,
Some shape of beauty moves away the pall
From our dark spirits. Such the sun, and moon,
Trees old, and young, sprouting a shady boon
For simple sheep: and such are daffodils
With the green world they live in; and clear rills
That for themselves a cooling covert make
'Gainst the hot season; the mid forest brake,
Rich with a sprinkling of fair musk-rose blooms;
And such too is the grandeur of the dooms
We have imagined for the mighty dead;
All lovely tales that we have heart or read;
An endless fountain of immortal drink,
Pouring onto us from the heaven's brink."
"Nor
do we merely feel these essences
For one short hour; no, even as the trees
That whisper round a temple become soon
Dear as the temple's self, so does the moon
The passion poesy, glories infinite,
Haunt us till they become a cheering light
Unto our souls, and bound to us so fast,
That whether there be shine or gloom o'ercast,
They always must be with us, or we die."
[Chorus
now continues, after reading this piece from Keats.]
Oh, keep the
words of that most wisest sage,
John Keats, upon thy mind, for, even now,
We shall unfold before your horrored brow
A tale of doom and grief beyond all measure,
How constancy debased and fragile man,
Like some frail leaf upon a wind of thunder,
Churned to death, onto a muddy ground,
Where innocence was lost and bereaved parents
Cried out into the night for murdured children,
Where cities burned and fell into oblivion,
And, suddenly, a wave of rape and plunder
Swept o'er the land with pestilence and murder,
So quickly as one knew not whence it came,
Caught unprepared midst life's wandering aims:
Oh, gentle people! Grief that I need tell
This horrid tale to thee as it befell
Upon hapless mankind, but listen now:
Prepare yourselves, else be o'ercome by sorrow.
Prepare for dread, for, now, our tale begins
[Sound of
galloping, approching horsemen. Enter, horseman, into the market, waving a
flag.]
HORSEMAN: Joy,
oh joy! Call all our townsmen hither!
[Enter first townsman.] 1ST TOWNSMAN: What news? What joy is there?
HORSEMAN: The foe has fallen!
1ST TOWNSMAN: What foe? What dost thou mean?
HORSEMAN: Those hordes of men
Whom we have rightly called "barbarian."
[More townsmen entering.]
1ST TOWNSMAN:[Looking around, fearfully, whispers] Speak not of them.
HORSEMAN: Nay, nay, I say they are barbarians
Foul monsters, scars upon our age,
Worshiping false idols, crushing truth,
Assassins of mankind.
1ST TOWNSMAN: [Inturupting, shouts] Beware thy words!
HORSEMAN: Nay, nay, fling ope thy heart and fear no more!
Look up into the heavens. [Shouts] Joy, oh joy!
[Enter more townsmen. More continue to enter as the scene proceeds.]
2ND TOWNSMEN: What loud commotion? What is it thou sayest?
HORSEMAN: [Pointing] My friends, look to the yonder battlefield,
For, there, the ranks of our most loyal Poles
Bore down in just rebellion 'gainst the foe.
2ND TOWNSMAN: [Sinking to his knees]
What? Then, they are gone?
HORSEMAN: Yes, gone, forever gone! And
Poland lives!
2ND TOWNSMAN: [Buries his face
in his hands, and speaks in a choked voice.]
Oh, spread the word. Let all our
country know,
Ring out the bells across, from town to
town,
Let every Polish child raise its head
To sing in happiness.--Oh, blessed day!
3RD TOWNSMAN: If this be true, then,
let us hasten forth.
[Speaking to some other townsmen]
Haste to Saint John's Cathedral: ring
the bells.
I'll run to lower town, and ring them
there.
4TH TOWNSMAN: I'll speed into the
outskirts with the news.
Call all the townsfolk here.
[All three exit variously. Some others run off, while others enter.]
HORSEMAN: My friends, and I do
tell you: even now,
Our Colonel has sent his fastest
legions
Speeding t'ward the furthest-reaching
towns
To hear these tidings.
1st TOWNSMAN: But how could it be?
We heard the rumors, but dared not to
hope.
HORSEMAN: In this affair, one man,
above all other,
Must bear our praise, for, lacking his
compassion,
His love of Poland, and his noble
courage,
Beneath the tyrant's yoke would we
remain,
Whose daring wit confounded all the
foe,
And struck the greatest terror in his
heart.
1ST TOWNSMAN: What General, he?
HORSEMAN: No General,
Though higher statured than the best of
them.
He follows close behind. You see him,
hence.
5TH TOWNSMAN: List there! There go the
bells! And there, again!
[A distant bell begins to toll, followed by another, and, after a short
while, by another]
HORSEMAN: Oh, sweetest music, as the
dawn of day,
Which breaks across a waking, freer
land!
6TH TOWNSMAN: [Pointing] Look there: the King! His Majesty, returning!
[Enter King Walsa, with Adamek and attendants, at a distance.]
HORSEMAN: And with him, Adamek. Ope up
the way!
[Some people move to the side, letting Walsa's company through. There is a
long silence as people watch them walk up and onto the town square platform. At
last, it breaks, as hundreds of citizens break into cheers and clapping.
ADAMEK: [To Walsa] Speak, my King; pronounce our victory.
WALSA: Nay, nay, this honor can be
thine alone.
Pronounce it, for thou won it.
ADAMEK: Very well.
[Adamek bites his lip, trying hard not to be overcome by emotion. He
smiles, with tears in his eyes, to the crowd, then steps forward solemnly, and
raises his hand. A hush falls over the crowd.]
Dear freinds, fellow citizens, friends
of the unborn hereafter:
Dear to us is our sweet Poland's air,
Dear its soil, dearest are its people,
Dearest are our martyrs who have
fallen,
Who, dying thus, are saven from the
grave.
Today, across our land, a wave is
sweeping,
Across each town; each child and man
and woman
Looks up and understands why Poland is.
To see its purpose written in the
heavens
And know its sacred duty 'fore mankind:
The noble soul can never be destroyed.
The sharpest pains and trials
strengthen it,
And make it more resolved. The deepest
loss
Doth spur it onto higher, greater
deeds.
Nor can the noble nation be o'erthrown.
No evil tyrant, no barbarian
Can harm its unity when faith remains,
As long its people hold onto their
honor,
No storm can harm it, for it lives
forever.
[Applause
begins, but Adamek holds up his hand to stop it short, and continues, in an
even more intense voice.]
But, what of they who violate its justice?
Who trample roughshod o'er its noble honor?
What of those men who wish to not be men,
But beasts of prey? Where are those traitors now?
What have they gained? Oh, answer well to this!
Grief, misery, foulness, death eternal:
Nought but this be their foul plotting's reaping.
Find joy in this, my friends, in justice true,
And turn your hearts onto your new-found freedom.
Rebuild the beauty which the foe hath broken
And learn your lesson well, be ever true.
[Cheering
as he ends. Walsa steps forward to deliver his speech.]
WALSA: The harder part, being far behind us now,
The fields of battle calmed, the way made clear,
Nought lies ahead, save peace and happiness:
Then, live with joy. Be happy with your children.
Keep your dear wives and husbands well-contented,
And live in harmony and blessedness.
[All sing
anthem to Poland]
ALL: Blessed be our land forever,
Blessed be its noble souls.
Let its voice ring o'er the mountains,
Free and honored, o'er the world!
Let it shine with blinding lightning,
Chase dark shadows from our souls.
Let us fast our hearts upon it,
Cry our promise to the world:
O, beauteous Poland, star of heaven!
Burning love which we behold,
Never shall our hearts betray thee,
Ne'er from thee our love be stole.
Though fire come, or grief, or thunder,
Though tyrant rule, or deathly cold,
Our faith to thee we shall remember,
Buring on in flames of gold.
[The last
four lines are repeated once more. Curtain falls.]
ADAMEK:
O cloud of darkness tow'ring overhead!
E'en at this hour of joy thou crushest downward.
Scarce hours past the trumpets have resounded,
Victory proclaimed and Poland freed,
Yet, now I stand before the final judgement.
Thirty years of hard and noble striving
Laid now behind me, honors heaped upon me,
Kings and courtley ladies, full of praising,
Chattering all around me, wealth and fame
More easily mine own, if I desired it,
Than grass upon the meadows.--O, good God!
Thou, alone, can save me at this moment!
Thou, alone, can read my inner being.
Look deep within my soul and hear its pleaing:
I, the mighty warrior, humbled 'fore Thee,
To beg of Thee with tearful, lonely grieving
That single joy which Thou, alone, can give me.
Hear me, O God, O hear Thy loyal subject.
Have I not served Thee well, with all my being?
Have I not sacrificed all earthly pleasures
These thirty years? In joy have I not done this?
Not as cold duty, but with joyous nature?
O God, which soul has loved Thee more than I?
Has led more soldiors through more burning fires?
What man hath gave his soul to Thee so fully,
E'en from the early age? Remember, truly,
How young was I when first I joined the battle?
Eleven years! But, even long ago
I fled the joys of youth, for Thou wert calling.
I left my home and joined our Poland's forces.
I left the comforts of parental guidance,
And gave my soul to Thee, for Thou wert calling.
Thou know, O God, how oft my eyes were streaming
With loneliness, to be so far from home,
With unknown men, in far and distant places,
Homesick for greener valleys, for the singing
Of other children at my childhood's villiage,
But, Thou wert always there, my only friend.
Thou, O God, hast ever been nearby me,
In night, in day, in storms, on battlefields,
Stretched far and wide across all Poland's spaces,
Charging on the foe, in fiercest battle,
With sounds of clashing steel and shouting soldiers,
Or, standing, 'lone, upon a bubbling river,
Where summer birds sing sweetly, peacefully:
Then, God, be with me now! O come to me!
Open up the gates to joyous heaven.
O let me pass therein, for every vision,
Every sound of beauty, every hour
Doth sing of her to me, that she is mine.
[He paces
silently for a while, then sits down in a chair to continue his monologue.]
O precious Beata, trust thy heart to me.
Enfold it in my own and keep me safe
From sin and darkness, ease my lonely grieving,
Be thou the only soul upon this earth
To know my inner thoughts and deepest being.
[He is
silent again, for a while, then, in horror, jumps up.]
Ah, can I hope that she has not forgotten,
That her sweet soul hath not to elseone wandered?
One treacherous year have I been gone in battle,
Hoping, praying to her every hour.
Yet, now this terror presseth down upon me:
Ah, God, let that not be. I could not bear it!
[He is
silent again for a while, before continuing.]
O, dearest Beata, hear me, O please hear me!
Remember when I first laid eyes upon thee
How touched I was and how full of amazement
To know that such a one as thee could be.
Fot I had watched thee e'en before thou met me,
Speaking kindly to those friends of thine,
So pure and kind and ful of noble wisdom
As made me faint with joy to know of thee!
That was a sacred day! E'en as the battle
Raged on about us, though't was greatest danger
For me to be in town, where occupied
By hordes barbarian, yet, joy o'erpowering
Chased thoughts of death away. Ah, happy day!
E'en now that moment stands before my vision:
"Good day," thou saidst to me. I said, "Good day,"
And looked into thy dearest, wisest eyes,
And felt that all the earth, below, had shaken,
That hand of thine, within my own course fist
Would be forever mine. I knew it then,
That thou and I were made to be as one.
Ne'er before had any woman touched me
As thou did then: for that, God be my witness.
And, in my eyes, I thought my love reflected,
That I had touched thee and had won thy favor.
And, when I moved away, thou followed me,
And tried to catch my eye! I could have fainted.
Thou loved me! Ah, what man could dare have hoped it!
Once more I met thee, talked with thee at length,
And treasured each wise word from out thy soul.
And, when I left, before me thou remainest,
At every turn and moment of my life,
A beckoning star, the source of all my strength,
Until each deed of goodness I performed
I did for thee to prove to thee my love.
Then, Beata, keep steadfast unto thy patience,
And wait for me, O let thy heart not waver! Else I am doomed to die.
[He takes
his coat and exits. Curtain falls.]
PAWLAK: Ho, Novzky, there!
NOVZKY: Ho, Pawlak.[They shake hands]
PAWLAK: And what goes?
NOVZKY: Ah, chasing women.
PAWLAK: Any biting yet?
NOVZKY: Why, sure, my fishing bait is well designed.
PAWLAK: Just keep it free of worms. And, nothing else?
NOVZKY: Nothing much. And thou?
PAWLAK: Ah, visiting the town.
Our Colonel shall be full-crowned today!
NOVZKY: Yes, made a General! A lovely honor.
--Oh, Pawlak, yes: there is a laughing matter
Which I beheld. Oh, hold thy sides for this.
PAWLAK: What is it?
NOVZKY: /.../ Ha, ha, ha! An oracle,
Of foolishness, a gentleman from England.
Oh't is too much! [Bursts out laughing]
PAWLAK: /..../ A man from England? What?
What dost thou mean?
NOVZKY: /..../ He came upon a pumpkin,
Like Cindarella, dainty-footedly,
Outlandishly dressed up, with mile-long furs
Trained out behind him. Methought a hundred aides
Were needed just to keep his tail up high
From off the ground. My, what a dandy peacock!
PAWLAK:Who was he? [Novsky does not answer, but just laughs.]
NOVZKY: So finely dressed, he might have been a woman,
Save for his knobbly legs. Ah, ho, ho, ho!
And, as King Walsa came to greet his coming,
'Twas as a hen beside a strutting peacock:
The Englishman seemed King, and poor old Walsa
A frightened child, just counting up his marbles.
PAWLAK: Novzky, sober up. Who is this man?
NOVZKY: "Dr. Tavistock" they say his name.
PAWLAK: Who is he?
NOVSKY: I know not.
PAWLAK: Why is he come?
NOVSKY: To strut his feathers.
PAWLAK: Novsky, listen here:
When came he, then?
NOVSKY: Oh, just yesterday.
He cometh as advisor to King Walsa.
PAWLAK: How so? Who chose him?
NOVSKY: I know little else,
Save what I've told thee.
PAWLAK: Ah, this makes me fearful!
Thou knowest nothing else?
NOVZKY: Why such dread? 'Tis more a joke than harm. But let me tell thee
Whyfore, 'tis said he come: 'We all know England
is prosperous and rich and full of wisdom,
And us, being poor and dull and ignorant,
Need much advice.' 'Tis why 'tis said he comes.
[Some noise is heard off-stage.]
Here
come the rest. Never fear, good Pawlak.
[He slaps Pawlak on the back, then shouts alout to the other officers and
people sitting in the room:]
Here cometh Adamek!
[All turn to look. As Adamek enters, loud applause. Adamek is a bit taken
aback, and stands in the door.]
NOVZKY: A toast to Adamek! [He holds up a glass]
SOME OTHERS: Yes, yes!
ANOTHER: Hear, hear!
[All hold up glasses; some one gives a glass to Adamek.]
NOVZKY: In honor to the one whose daring wit
And cunning led us on.Cheers begin. He holds us his hand.] And let me
add
May daringness and cunning also serve him
In this domestic life. [Cheers, etc.]
ADAMEK: Thank you all. [Aside] An odd setting.
For such occaision.
OFFICER 1: .....And, another toast To victory.
OFFICER 2: ...Again? How many more?
[Laughter, all hold up glasses again.]
OFFICER 3: Since the hardest part liest behind us,
And we still living, let us toast our health
And love of Poland.
ADAMEK: .....I shall drink to that. [All drink]
[Aside] Thank heaven they were sober
Upon the battlefields.
PAWLAK: [Aside, looking at Adamek]
......There is no hiding
From I, who know him, that he is disturbed.
Whence from, though, then? Some new, and hidden, danger?
[More noise and laughter at one of the tables.]
ADAMEK: [Aside]
Dear God, please bring her soul to me at last,
E'en here, that I may speak my heart to her.
PAWLAK: [Aside]
His mind is far away. I know too well
To miss that. [Moves closer to Adamek]
OFFICER 4: We should have done
just thus, while we were battling
To cheer us more.
OFFICER 2: [Pouring] Perhaps the
very noise
Would scare away the foe.
[Laughter. Pawlak comes up behind Adamek and calls him. Adamek turns, very
glad to see him.]
PAWLAK: Adamek, what news?
ADAMEK: Oh, nought to say.
PAWLAK: [Peering closely at him]
Thou art full sure?
ADAMEK: Why, yes.
PAWLAK: What of the front?
Is all there well in order?
ADAMEK: Very much,
Well guarded, strong, well-stocked and
reinforced
With fresh new troops deployed to my
design.
PAWLAK: What of the Northern front?
ADAMEK: 'Tis quite the same.
PAWLAK: No hidden problems?
ADAMEK: [Surprized] Why, no,
all is well.
[Adamek is silent for a moment, musing. Enter Beata with a young man man
holding her arm. Adamek stares at her in shock for a few moments, then frowns
and bites his lip. She sees him, looks into his eye, and looks down, as though
ashamed, then walks by.]
ADAMEK: [Aside] O God, 'tis she.
PAWLAK: [Quietly] Colonel
Adamek.
[Adamek does not hear him.]
ADAMEK: [Aside] O no, God! Let me die. [Staggers slightly]
PAWLAK: Adamek.
ADAMEK: [Weakly] Yes, Pawlak.
PAWLAK: Trust in me.
ADAMEK: What dost thou mean?
PAWLAK: I see a darkened shadow
Falln over thee.
ADAMEK: [Whispers] Ah, Pawlak, help me now
If ever thou didst love me.
PAWLAK: What is wrong?
ADAMEK: Please trust me, my dear
friend. I cannot speak it.
But, knowest thou that I am close to
dying
Far more then e'er before.
PAWLAK: Good heavens, what?
[Adamek motions for him to be silent. A man at a nearby table notices that
Adamek seems ill and stands up.]
MAN: Art thou well?
ADAMEK: A trifle dizzy.
MAN: Here. Sit down.
[He pulls out a seat for Adamek at the table of honor, near the door. No
one is sitting there yet. Pawlak sits there beside him.]
MAN: Let not the noise upset you, my
good sir
Thou knowest how us Poles can be in
mirth,
When happiness is greatest.
ADAMEK: Yes, of course.
It soon shall pass. [Aside] O dearest, dearest God.
[Novzky comes up to the table to greet Adamek.]
NOVZKY: Thou art quite pale. Here, take
a little wine. [Pours]
ADAMEK: Why, thank you. [Novzky
sits down briefly.]
NOVZKY: All thou need more now is women
To keep you in good cheer.
ADAMEK: Ah God, not now.
[Novsky sits down by Adamek and speaks with a hushed voice, so only he can
hear.]
NOVZKY: Thirty years and never touched
a woman,
I know thou art untouched.
ADAMEK: Novzky, please.
NOVZKY: Still stubborn yet? But let me
introduce thee.
ADAMEK: Novzky, ceace.
NOVZKY: Forgive me for my manner.
I know this day must be thy happiest.
I need not spoil it. I'm glad for thee.
ADAMEK: Thank you, Novzky.
[Novzky nods, and goes back to his table, a bit confused.]
PAWLAK: [To Adamek] Now, tell me true:
I am the one to know this dreadful
matter.
Has any been more loyal?
ADAMEK: No, not one.
PAWLAK: Then let me know, for Poland is
at stake.
If harm shall come to thee, then,
Poland suffers.
ADAMEK: No harm to Poland. No, 'tis me,
alone.
PAWLAK: Impossible.
ADAMEK: Nay, not.
PAWLAK: Impossible.
Thy fate's so closely bound onto the
nation
That nought that touches one can miss
the other.
ADAMEK: [Aside] Ah, death of hope. Ah, bitter, bitter fate.
PAWLAK: On days of seeming doom, with
us o'erpowered,
Crushed down, defeated, cut down in
retreat,
Our army's morale shattered: even then,
Thou kepst thy firm resolve.
ADAMEK: No, no, I hid it,
To give the troops more hope. But, even
I
Grew hopeless in some moments.
PAWLAK: Yes, I know,
But, always kept thy faith, but twice
before
Confided me, alone, thy deepest fears.
ADAMEK: 'Tis different now.
PAWLAK: No different.
ADAMEK: For't is over.
PAWLAK: The battle never ends, but
lasts forever.
ADAMEK: Ah, what a bitter truth. [Looks
at, at her table]
PAWLAK: Then, tell me now,
For, I am fearful for our Poland's
future.
Some plot?
ADAMEK: [Distracted] No, no.
PAWLAK: Is it this Tavistock?
[Adamek is watching Beata, not really listening to Pawlak. At some joke,
the people at her table laugh. She smiles sweetly at the man with her.]
ADAMEK: [Aside] Ah, hell! Look how she smiles on him now.
I'm nought to her.
PAWLAK: [Noticing Adamek's
horror] Good God, then I was right.
What has he done?
ADAMEK: [Weakly, confused] Who done? What dost thou mean?
PAWLAK: This Tavistock, from England.
ADAMEK: Who is he?
PAWLAK: Thou knowest well. What is it
thou art hiding?
ADAMEK: [Confused] Nay, I know him not.
PAWLAK: Thou liest then.
ADAMEK: [Gasps] Pawlak, please, I--Don't abandon me.
Not now. [Aside] O God, what have I done?
PAWLAK: Thou thinkest me a fool?
ADAMEK: Nay, never that.
PAWLAK: Then, why, e'en when our Poland
is at stake,
If 'tis so terrible, why, even then,
When hidden danger lurks within the
shadows,
Poised to pounce upon us in surfeiting,
Devour our new-found freedom in
disaster,
Why, even then, to hide truth from thy
friend?
ADAMEK: [Astounded] I--Pawlak, no, 'tis not as thou art thinking.
I'll tell thee presently--
[He is interupted by loud commotion, applause. Enter King at the front of
the room, where a podium is standing. Announcer preceeds him to the podium.]
ANNOUNCER: Sires and Dames, King Walsa,
King of Poland.
[Clapping, etc. King walks up to podium.]
WALSA: Greetings, greetings, all ye
gathered here!
Noble gentlemen and wisest ladies:
We come to honor one who is among us,
Whose fame has sped like fire through
our land.
Upon this day, we crown him with his
glory,
And shower him with heartfelt
gratitude.
[Cheers, etc.] I call him now,
most noble Adamek.
[Adamek walks to the front, stands before Walsa, who reads a statement.]
Bestoweth I, with honors of my office,
As sovereign of Poland, on this
soldior,
The rightful honor which his deeds
entitle,
Promote his standing from that of
Colonel,
And make him General, in Poland's Army.
[Adamek kneels. King takes sword and makes a cross with it over Adamek's
head, then places sword down, and crosses his own heart. He motions Adamek to
rise, and places a medal on his uniform.]
It is done.
[Applause. Adamek turns to the audience.]
ADAMEK: [Aside] Ah, bitter grief, and yet, I cannot show it.
E'en though I faint and though my
breath be weakening,
E'en though my shattered, lonely heart
be breaking,
E'en then, I need stand here and make
pretense
Of my great happiness--Ah, ne'er again!
Sweet death! Consume
me, burn me in thy fire.
For once, thou wouldst be welcome. Let
me die!
To sink, in silent dreams, into
oblivion,
As quiet streams are swallowed in an
ocean,
To cease to know this horror, cease to
be,
To sink to nothingness eternally.
[Curtain falls.]
WALSA: We've
set up pleasures all across my Kingdom,
Whole new pleasures, wonderous in delight.
We fill the land with many thousand colors,
That fill each dulled corner, day and night.
The quietness of eve is broken down,
Made way for wild chase. All is motion,
Noise and bustle, trade, activity,
Ne'er ceasing, that doth leave unusual taste
Within my mouth. I know not what to think.
I know not which: to love it or to hate.
TAVISTOCK: Why, neither, sir. Accept it as it is,
For't is the magic of our England's favor.
'Tis not for nought that we have been pride's honor
These many years. And 'twas no little matter
To win the island to our wiser cause.
WALSA: How long?
TAVISTOCK: 'Twas many nasty centuries
Before is was secured. Repeat our errs
At thy own dreaded peril. Learn and prosper.
WALSA: We will to follow you, and thank your kindness.
TAVISTOCK: Then, take the sudden actions, done tomorrow,
Decree the many motions I laid forth,
In one tremendous shock, transform the nation,
Else fall into the traps of timid waiting.
WALSA: Those motions fall quite hard.
TAVISTOCK: It shall be brief.
And once beyond, the pain doth, quick, subside.
Think on how quickly we errected pleasures
Across the land, in days, for many merchants,
Trained in things abroad have raced herein,
As soon the door was opened. Even so,
As soon thou ope the door to greater things,
'Twere as some merchant army had invaded.
The merchant might of England, poised to pounce,
Shall flood herein, in hours, as a torent
To make the change complete.
WALSA: Ah, very well:
What have I, then, to fear? I'll pass the measures
[Knocking sounds]
Tomorrow morn.--Nay, now.
TAVISTOCK: I'll call for them.
[Tavistock motions his aid to go get papers. Knocking sounds.]
WALSA: What knocking?
[Guard opens gate. Enter Adamek. ]
Good Adamek! [Aside] Ah, anyone but him.
How can I face him now? [Aloud] Come in, come in!
Meet Tavistock.
ADAMEK: [Shakes hands with Tavistock]
Most pleased.
TAVISTOCK: And also me.
ADAMEK: [Aside, looking at Tavistock]
What fish is this?
[Aloud] King Walsa, thou hast called me.
WALSA: Yes, yes, yes.
Though thou art comen fresh from many battles,
And fresh within thy higher duty's function,
Yet, duty calls. Our friends, the Slavs, are suffering,
And ask our help against the viler hoards,
Who, while not here, still ravage their poor Kingdoms.
Thou knowest that those rat barbarians,
If living elsewhere, still do threat to us,
While crushing their foul nest do harm to know one.
ADAMEK: [Aside] What? So soon to some far, unknown place,
So far from her, e'en as this loss doth crush me,
To look each morn upon an alien sun,
Forlorn and hopeless? /...../
[Aloud] Very well, for I have sympathy
For our poor brother Slavs, but not too soon:
Givest thou me time for thought and resting,
For, I had none of that near twenty years now,
And 'tis a heavy weight.
WALSA: I understand.
However, they request us urgently,
And say the hour is ripe.
ADAMEK: I know its standing.
It is a drudge of several years in making
To free those Kingdoms, and I will to do it.
But, give me time.
TAVISTOCK: A little time shant hurt
If thou dost giveth favor. [King nods]
ADAMEK: [Aside, looking at Tavistock]
Quite a fish.
His eyes are fish. [Aloud] Perhaps a week or more
To settle things. [Aside] Perhaps eternity.
Were not enough.
[Re-enter Tavistock's aid with the papers for the King to sign. Walsa
hurries to intercept the papers, without letting Adamek see them.]
WALSA: [Loudly] The measures are arrived.
[Aside] What dreadful timing! God, when he is here?
[Walsa hurries to the side, away from Adamek's view, to a little table, so
sign the documents.]
ADAMEK: What documents?
WALSA: Ah, 'tis a State affair.
[Walsa hurriedly signs three or four papers, casually, as though they were
not important, then, gives papers back to Tavistock's aid. Says to aid:]
Take them away.
[Exit Tavistock's aid, with papers. Walsa and Adamek look at each other for
a few moments, without expression.]
ADAMEK: I'll go now.
WALSA: Very well.
[Exit Adamek. Walsa wipes his forehead with a hankerchief.]
The hardest part is well behind us now.
Then, let us carry on. But, I am weary.
What odd new entertainment have thee for me?
Which of the many pleasures springing 'round us,
What brightest colors, or what blaring noises,
What strange sensations are there that will cure me?
I need to free my mind from endless worry.
TAVISTOCK: Well, try them all, and see which most doth please thee,
And I shall be thy guide. Here, come with me.
[Both exit. Curtain falls. End of Act I]
ADAMEK: Ah,
blackest night, is there no ray of hope?
Not even one sole star to shine upon me?
No moon to shine this night, no heaven's kindness
To light some mercied way--or must I, even
At this dark moment, stand alone in dread,
Beneath the mighty darkness of these shadows,
These clouds that never break, whose silent passing
Pass on forever, always equally covering,
So that day never comes.
Ah bitter
night, thou demon of the shadows,
Devourer of the day, thou dreaded horror,
What art thou save a murderer of time?
Who takes the very promises of heaven
And twists them into darkness? Even now
Meseems the proper course of time is ended.
For, God, Himself, decreed her soul to mine.
How, then, has she been stolen? 'Tis more horrid
Then if the universe were turned on end,
Its law inversed to chaos and all heaven
Extinguished in some endless, yawning hole,
As though the Lord Creator were not present
To rectify such utter death of meaning
Ah, bitter
earth, standeth I still upon thee?
Or art thou, too, a dark, imagined, shadow?
What of my faith? What of my trust in heaven?
These twenty years have I been nature's fool,
Chasing ghosts which never have existed?
'Tis only now that doubt, upon me knawing,
Doth first its bitter teeth sink into me.
What shall I do? 'Tis not her soul alone,
But all my world, itself, doth crash around me.
One hope,
alone, remains, one island bastion:
If it were all a test of God's Own making,
To test my worthiness, a bitter trial,
Frought with gloomy grief and sharp despair,
Of hopelessness in seeming, not in truth,
Which passed, will lead me back to greater joy.
Perhaps her love of him is passing fancy,
A shallow thing, the weakness of a woman?
Could she forget so easily my passion,
Abandon me so cruelly to my doom?
Surely, He cannot expect that of me:
Then I will meet her, have a word with her,
And win her back.
[Suddenly, his monologue is interupted by a terrible scream, from the
barracks, which breaks him from his state. Sound of commotion, running.]
VOICE 1: Murder, murder!
[More commotion, sound of running,
then clashing swords.]
VOICE 2: [Dying] Ah,
catch him out the back. [Sound of falling]
ADAMEK: [Running toward the back door] Good God!
[Enter Murderer, out of the barrack door, flings open door, trips over
steps, then, quickly, gets up.]
ADAMEK: [Draws] Stop!
[Murderer lifts his dagger, but Adamek knocks his hand back and stabs him.
Murderer falls to the ground, still alive. Enter soldiers, running. More commotion
in the barracks.]
I have him. Bring a light. [Enter more soldiers]
[To soldiers] Watch him.
[Adamek runs into barracks. Enter
more soldiors, one with a light.]
SOLDIOR 1: What commotion?
[He notices the murderor, and reels back]
SOLDIOR 2: A murderor.
SOLDIOR 1: From whence?
SOLDIOR 2: It scarce is seconds since I woke.
SOLDIOR 3: Who hath he killed? Or any?
SOLDIOR 2: I know nought,
Save that I heard called "murder" and awoke
With cold sweat on my brow, and blooded chill,
As though those rat barbarians, returned,
Were charging at us in some battlefield.
SOLDIOR 3: Art thou barbarian? [Murderor does not answer.]
SOLDIOR 2: /../ What else?
What other foe is there?
[Re-enter Adamek, with others]
ADAMEK: Novzky's dead. He stabbed him through the heart
So artfully, he need have died in seconds,
And one more. Their honor shall live on.
[Shocked silence]
SOLDIOR 4: Sir, Adamek?
ADAMEK: Yes, what?
SOLDIOR 4: Those were thy quarters
Until some days ago.
ADAMEK: Yes, yes, of course.
[He bends down near the murderor]
Who sent thee here? /..../ No answer.
He liest close to death. [Shakes him] Now, answer me.
Art thou barbarian. 'Twas they who sent thee?
[The Murderor shakes his head.[
No? Who, then?
[Murderor dies. Adamek stands.]
Check his garments. Send messengers,
Racing to the outposts with this warning.
Set all the troops alert. This hath bad reeking.
Wait here a moment.
[He walks a short distance away from them.]
[Aside] That vicious stab was for myself intended,
Yet, I live on and he, in blood, doth wallow.
God makes me live. Whyfore? Is there none else
To bear this heavy task? I see it clearly,
Yet, shun from it in dread. Ah, Novzky, Novzky,
Mine is not the same as thou hast taken.
A greater debt to me, and now I owe thee
The greatest debt of all, for at this moment,
Though I had harshly scolded all thy pleasures,
Thou took my place when I had taken thine.
If there were
but some way to do my duty,
To pay my debt and not to do it thusly.
Ah, 'tis an awful, bitter medicine!
[He turns and walks back to the soldior,
speaks to them]
We need a thorough check on
how he entered.
Change each guardman watching these past hours.
And double each, at least until the morning,
When, come you all, prepare their honored burial.
[Curtain falls]
TAVISTOCK: I
found for us the best of all the dancers
To cheer us up today. Thou will to see them?
WALSA: Why, sure, bring them on in.
[Tavistock claps. Enter dancers, who all line up. Walsa, eyeing them,
speaks:]
My word! What do they do?
TAVISTOCK: Why, anything
To warm a poor chap's heart: a steady business,
For, many chaps need warming.--Shall they dance?
WALSA: Well, sure, but which?
TAVISTOCK: Why, any that thou wishst.
WALSA: Perhaps some introduction to their art?
TAVISTOCK: Why, e'en the poorest chap, some time or other,
Gets introduced to them. But let us ask them.
[To dancers] You have a dance to introduce yourselves?
DANCER: We have a one. 'Tis called "the nobler dance."
WALSA: Nobler more than what?
DANCER: What follows, surely,
Which, being less in rank, must follow closely.
WALSA: [Confused] Well, let us see it then. [Dancers
dance.]
DANCERS: Bring not thy cares to us, but send them thither,
Away, away, so as to dally-dither,
And dithering to sink away--to whither?
--Why, no one knows!
[Music jumps here. King grins]
Nay trouble us o'er rhyme or heavy reason,
Else we shall tickle thee and be ateasing,
And teasing, thou shallt sink. How shall thee easen?
--Why, no one knows!
[King covers his mouth to stop laughing.]
But once thou easen, thankest us, the dancers,
Who loosened thee with dances and with prances,
And choose the best and say, "Well, shall I chance her?"
--Why, know one knows.
[King bursts out laughing.]
WALSA: Ah, riot, riot! 'Tis a dandy song,
And this is but the start? Ah, ha, ha, ha!
If 'tis the start, what else? Where is the end?
DANCER: [Solemnly] Why, no one knows.
[King laughs uproarously
WALSA: Whew! Thou choosest
well. This does me well,
And eases me from other pressing worries.
What other acts they do?
TAVISTOCK: Why, any. Ask.
WALSA: [To dancers] What would you sing to middle-aged Kings,
A mite confused, and searching for their place?
DANCER: We have a song to put them in their place
As quick as well.
WALSA: Then, let me have that one.
[Dancers dance again.]
DANCERS:
"Oh me, oh my," King Midas said,
"My youth is quickly fading.
I need to take my gold," he said,
"And make with youth a trading"
"For, if
one lives but once," he said,
"Why, sure, we need live fully,
And live our pleasures up," he said
Until the end, and fully."
"Then,
bring some pretty girls," he said,
"Each of them, here, before me,
And let me kiss each one," he said,
"And make them all adore me."
"And they
shall then be seen," he said,
"As statues to beholden,
For, who I touch, fore'er," he said
Remainest young and golden."
WALSA: [Laughing]
Ah, a funny one. I could all day
List to a thousand more, forget all else.
[Knock sounds on the door]
[Guiltily] Yes?
[Enter guard]
GUARD: A man is coming from the Slavic regions
A certain Prince.
WALSA: Yes, bring him in.
[Aside] Ah, always such bad timing.
[To lead dancer] Stand thou aside a moment.
[Enter
Prince Mecic. He is somewhat surprized to see the dancers. Walsa hurries to
meet him, ashamed to be seen with the dancers.] Welcome, and forgive our idle matters.
Thou catchest us an idle time of day.
How can we aid thee? /./ Meet my advisor,
Doctor Tavistock, a friend from England.
MECIC: Most honored.
[Aside, looking at Tavistock] My,
what a horny toad.
WALSA: Ambassador from England, in our need
MECIC: Most kind of England. [Aside] Even as I stand
I half expect his horny toady tongue
To pop right out and catch some fly for dinner.
WALSA: And he Prince Mecic, sent from Slavia.
TAVISTOCK: [Shaking hand] Most honored, too.
WALSA: [Aside] Ah, dreadful, dreadful timing!
Why need he come and catch me with these dancers?
MECIC: Good sir, if it now please thee, be I punct.
I bear a solemn message from my father,
Who, lacking thy response to other bearers
Hath sent myself to show its magnitude.
[King motions for him to continue]
Doubtest not the import of this matter.
Delayest not, we ask, thy answer's swiftness,
For, even as we stand, more souls are sinking,
Crushed to dread despair, while vile murder
Doth claim our innocents.
[Mecic bows down to give Walsa a paper]
WALSA: [Ashamed] Bowest not. I know thou art a Prince.
[Mecis rises and gives letter to the king, who reads.]
WALSA: [Aside, reading]
"Most excellent and noble, faithful and chaste:
[he frowns] King Walsa, monarch of free Poland:
In this dark moment have I nought to lose,
Which I shant lose anon, if, anyway,
I faileth now. E'en now, upon our gates,
The foe barbarians are marching hither,
Setting all alight in plunderous ravage,
Turning towns and homes into infernos,
Plundering, raping, killing innocents,
Now, bearing down upon us.--Noble Walsa:
Twice before, my messangers have met thee,
Telling thee my terms. Ask any price.
We ask for no free gifts: our city's treasure,
Gold, and silver, all our wealth is thine,
And even more, for I shall pledge our labor
To be thine own whenever thou shalt ask it.
Though I be king, I have no shame to beg thee,
To kneel upon my knees, to kiss thy throne.
King Walsa, hear us now, for death approaches.
Each day I look into my people's eyes,
Huddled here, within these city walls.
I cannot live to see their beastly slaughter,
As soon those rat barbarians break herein.
I cannot look into a young girl's eyes,
To see the dearness of her wisdom's blossoming,
And bear the thought that soon she shall be ravaged,
To serve the pleasure of some evil dog.
I cannot bear to hear our frightened children
Cry out into the night. Then, noble Walsa:
Answer us, for all now rests upon thee.
If thou dost doubt the import of this danger,
Then, knowest thou, the bearer of this letter,
Who risked most certain death and vile tortures,
Is my sole son and heir to all I own.
Send him not back alone, else he shall witness
His city falln to ruin and his people
Shall perish all within this horrid nightmare.
--Yours, in faith. King Mecic, Slavia"
[Walsa is silent for a while, then speaks to Mecic.]
How went it when thou left?
MECIC: I fear to say it,
Lest I be overpowered by my terror.
A dreadful vision plays itself before me.
I fear e'en as we speak, the gates are breaking,
And see them pouring through--Ah, God forbid it!
[He closes his eyes tightly and
shakes his head, as though trying to shake this vision from his mind.]
WALSA: How far to there?
MECIC: [Looks up with hope] Then, shallt thou hear our prayer?
WALSA: It seems. How far?
MECIC: Three days, by marching army.
A single regiment could send them scattering.
They have no taste for battle, with true soldiors,
But flee before them, as would drunken monkeys.
Instead, they slaughter women, children, old,
Or face our soldiors only when outnumbering,
When they have ten to one, against our own.
WALSA: A pitious lot.
TAVISTOCK: My dear, that is so sad.
It makes me sad to hear. Ah, Walsa, here.
[Tavistock takes Walsa aside to discuss with him.]
A bitter tragedy. Ah, how it grieves me,
For't shows the horror of such endless fighting.
Too many times it happens, thus, exactly.
Two parties, in their hatred, centuries old,
Fight on and on and on, unceasingly,
Each side, with burning hate, regards the other
And wills to crush and burn and mutilate,
While oft, the innocents, caught inbetween
Are harmed by them. Ah, what a horrid fate:
How sad and sorrowful, the acts of man.
What many thousand years have still not tamed
Need go forever on. Man cannot change,
But need forever play this saddest game.
WALSA: A single regiment. 'Tis almost nothing
For such a proper task. Then, I shall do it.
I am resolved in this.
TAVISTOCK: But, listen here:
Thou knowest that I speak in friendliness.
And, though I hold their suffering well at heart,
I pledged to serve this Poland: listen then:
WALSA: What is it?
TAVISTOCK: Only this. Think hard on it.
Is Poland's interest to intervene?
To step into this foreign Kingdom's quarrel?
What shall it gain itself? It may sound cruel.
Yet, what of it? This need be looked upon.
WALSA: No, no, one regiment. 'Tis nothing more.
Twice past have I been asked and have delayed it.
And more: where'er their foul monsters are,
It is our interest to chase them down
And hang them in the trees, where they belong.
TAVISTOCK: Then, thou are quite resolved.
WALSA: Yes, quite. No more.
[Tavistock pauses briefly, before continuing]
TAVISTOCK: 'Tis true they have gone far. It grieves me sorely,
So many times I go to sleep at night
And think about those people suffering there,
Those dying children. Ah, what horrid sadness!
Perhaps their sake, alone, were worth our while.
WALSA: Yes, yes.
TAVISTOCK: Then, let
it be by England.
WALSA: What?
TAVISTOCK: /./ Hear me out. Out army's standing
Is better fit to this, thou knowest well,
To risk this meddling in another's war.
For, England fights for neither side or other,
But only wills to bring each to his senses.
TAVISTOCK: But how, when Poland fought those tyrant monsters
Did England see each of us equal then?
TAVISTOCK: 'Tis not a simple matter. Even so,
Who matters not, but what.--But let us tell him.
[Walsa and Tavistock return back before Mecic.]
WALSA: Please come aside with us to make our planning.
[To Tavistock] And send these ones away.
[Tavistock motions for dancers to leave, which they do. Walsa, Mecic and
Tavistock go to a table off to the side of the room, which has a map on it, to
make plans. Curtain falls.]
MOZA: Jan
Polski! [Polski jumps, surprized]
POLSKI: Yes?
MOZA: A funny hour, this
To see thee dallying. What of the harvest?
POLSKI: Nothing there to do.
MOZA: What? Even now,
When e'en the clouds that dance about the sky,
These springtime breezes, all that we can see,
Doth sing of youth and strength. Why, even now
I'm off onto the games.
POLSKI: Oh, also thee?
MOZA: Why, yes, but thee? Since when, when spring was blooming,
Wert thou an idler?
POLSKI: Since yesterday,
When Walsa willed a type of greater growing.
MOZA: A greater type? Why then, why dally forth?
POLSKI: A greater type of less.
MOZA: What?
POLSKI: Less of greater.
'Tis said, the more there is, the less in worth,
And, thus, that less is worthier of greater.
"So, cut your harvesting," King Walsa says.
"Three quarters is enough, since, what remains,
Though small, shall be more worthy of its gain."
MOZA: Three quarters cut?
POLSKI: Why, yes, for greater gain.
"For, prices rise more quick than value wanes."
MOZA: [Confused] Because of less?
POLSKI: [Nodding] 'Tis said, the less there is,
The more this less is more.
MOZA: [Happily] Ah, wonderful!
Why, then, why not just stop it altogether?
And dally every day? If least is nothing,
It also is the greatest.
POLSKI: [Doubtfully] Possibly.
MOZA: And now, it starts to dawn on me why England
Is such a happy place! For far less toiling,
It lives a better life.
[Enter Peotric. Polski nudges Moza.]
POLSKI: /.../ Look.
MOZA: Quite gloomy. /../ Peotric!
PEOTRIC: [Jumps, surprized] /../ What?
[They motion for him to come over, which he does.]
MOZA: Where to?
PEOTRIC: Who knows?
MOZA: Why all this gloominess?
PEOTRIC: /../ Well, listen here and let me know
If this odd tale is not a cause for gloom.
The morning yesterday there comes an agent
Into the iron works, to pass decree.
He came there suddenly, and said: "Hear now,
This place is not sufficiently productive,
And, therefore, need be closed, for more producing,
To make our Poland well." And then, he read
Decrees that closed the place, and bid farewell.
I asked," How can it be that nought is something?
That this whole place, if closed, make more than nothing?"
He said,"It shant make more, but, less than nothing
Is more productive than to, thus, make something."
And, thus, he left, and let us wander out,
Confused, bewildered, and with heavy gloom.
MOZA: [Pats him on the back] /...../ Nay worry, Peotric.
If it hath been decreed in our best interest,
Then, surely, it is right. Here, come with us.
The games are playing and the newest one
Hath just arrived to try itself on us.
[Enter funeral procession, in the distance. Moza motions to the others to
follow.]
No funeral today, while we are living,
And young enough. Here, come.
[All three
exit. Enter Adamek, Beata, soldiors, others, as part of funeral march. They
move slowly to center stage. Beata is standing alone, somewhat ahead of
Adamek.]
ADAMEK: [Aside] A
mercied kindness, this, to meet her thusly,
At this odd moment.
[The funeral procession proceeds. Adamek slowly works his way up behind
Beata. When he is just behind her, he speaks quietly to her.]
Beata.
BEATA: [Turns] /.../ Hello, good Sir.
ADAMEK: How art thou then?
BEATA: Quite well, and how art thou?
ADAMEK: Well, I--
BEATA: [Kindly inturupts] Shhh!
[She motions to him the fact that the casket is being lowered into the
grave, and looks away from him.]
ADAMEK: [Aside] What? That is all. Hath she forgotten fully
Everything? /../ Where all her passion
That she once shone on me? I'm nought to her.
[The company completes the lowering of Novzky into the grave. Priest
motions Adamek forward. Adamek stands before the grave, and speaks a eulogy]
He was a loyal soldior, true to Poland,
A friend to man, whose light burned fervently.
Dear God, forgive his errs, and take him hither.
Take him to thy lands of endless peace,
That we may envy him, remaining here.
[Priest performs final rites. Adamek throws the first handful of dirt into
the grave, and is followed by others. Beata weeps. Shortly, people begin to
wander. Adamek catches Beata, as she turns to leave.]
ADAMEK: A word with thee.
[She follows him aside. He notices her tears.] Thou knewest him
so well? [She nods]
How so? /..../ [Guesses] Ah, tell me not!
BEATA: Why need I be ashamed of it forever?
'Tis over now.
ADAMEK: But thou didst love me once.
BEATA: In passing, yes, and many others also,
Until I found a nobler, truer love
In marriage.
ADAMEK: What? In marriage?
BEATA: Six months hence.
ADAMEK: [Aside] Ah God, why pile these griefs upon me now?
BEATA: Thy face is white.
ADAMEK: How could thou so forget me?
Thou knewest what I thought of thee.
BEATA: 'Twas fancy
That drew me on to thee, not noble love,
Ne'er love of thy true mind.
ADAMEK: Ah, say it not.
It kills me knowing it.
BEATA: Perhaps 'tis odd,
To think such things hereat, a funeral?
What of poor Novzky?
ADAMEK: Ah, that happy one.
He hath thy tears, a tiny grain of passion,
Death that frees him from this horrid knowing.
BEATA: Oh, halt it now.
ADAMEK: Ah poison, vile poison!
[He steps back against a gravestone and trips to the ground. Some soldiors
rush over to him to help him up.]
SOLDIOR: [To Beata] He takes it hard. He was a noble soldior.
BEATA: Tend to him, for I need go. [Exit Beata]
ADAMEK: [Aside] I've lost her soul forever. [Aloud] I can stand
Alone. 'Tis dizzyness and nothing more.
[Soldiors back off. Exit Adamek, others. Curtain falls.]
ADAMEK: [Aside] If I need live, then show me how
to do it,
How in these endless burning flames to travel
Which passeth on forever, which forever
Must I now burn herein, while yet I live.
Ah, endless life! Each moment is a century
Dragging on and on, devoid of meaning.
How many years, how many endless centuries
Need I go on, without her, in this place?
The sun that shines no longer shines upon me,
The sweetest flowers, alien in their beauty,
The breezes of dear spring, the gentle showers,
All that I have loved in this wide world
Now pales and hollows out as some foul dreaming.
[Pauses]
But God, why thusly, whyfore bring her before me,
Why make it so, whene'er she is near me,
The very course of time seems built around us
As though it were so planned? Could I not love her
Without this all, and would it not be better
To make acceptance of this fate more easy?
Why make it so it seemed that only she
Could ever be the one thou planned for me?
Why make the parting bitterer in passing,
So that a blot eternal sours time,
And makes it err, to go against its course,
To break its river bed and run in riot,
To violate what Thou, it seemed, had planned?
[Pauses]
Or, could it reconcile? If it were so
This horrid episode would make me stonger,
And drive me on to greater, higher deeds?
Ah, bitter cup! To follow where Thou treadest,
To serve mankind, e'en though he spit upon Thee,
To walk alone where none else dare to tread,
To love her truly, though she carest not?
[Pauses, then, starts suddenly.]
O, God, six months! Six months
hath she been married!
Each time I prayed onto her, every deed
Of good I did for her these past six months,
With passioned hope that I might one day win her,
'Twas all an idle dream, a bitter hoax,
And I a foolish joke upon some stage,
A man destroyed. Ah God! Show me some way.
[Enter doctor, running by in a hurry. He notices Adamek and stops,
regarding him for a few moments.] DOCTOR: Sir General.
ADAMEK: Yes, sir.
DOCTOR: [Shakes hand]
Most glad to meet thee.
ADAMEK: [Surprized] Thou knowest me?
DOCTOR: Thou art known as Poland's highest mountain,
And as unshakable.
ADAMEK: Why sayest thus?
DOCTOR: Because of what my years have taught me.
I know just how so many, blown around,
Fling on wherever each new wind doth blow,
As dried seeds from a thoughtless dandilion,
Or, honey bees set loose in fields of flowers,
So wide, they know not which to try or choose.
But, heaven grants it that some happier souls
Come down from time to time, to bring some order,
Who passeth, much as shepherds, among sheep,
Whose minds be focussed on their sacred duty,
And never shy from it, whose very being
Is calm, unwavering, unshakable
By all the trials and griefs of normal living.
Such a one as thee /..../
ADAMEK: How
knowest I am such?
DOCTOR: For all thy acts.
ADAMEK: Not me alone.
DOCTOR: But thou the mind behind it. ADAMEK: No, not alone.
Why give me all the credit?
DOCTOR: Why ignore the things we know are true?
[Adamek is silent, not wanting to accept what the doctor says. Doctor
continues.]
/..../ I, too, though lesser so.
Some thousands who were now, for sure, in heaven,
Live because of me.
ADAMEK: What is thy trade?
DOCTOR: A doctor. /./ And I will service any,
Rich or poor or famous or unknown,
Pole or no. In this, I find my joy,
And not in petty life, or even marriage.
ADAMEK: [Curious] Thou never married, then?
DOCTOR: My soul is married
In heaven onto those whose lives I've saven
By my true constancy, but not on earth.
It matters not: be married or be not,
But keep thy purpose on thy highest duty,
And thou shalt never fail, as thou dost know.
A tragic day it were for this our Poland
Should thou falter. I need go, I fear.
[Shaking hand] But I am late.
[Exit doctor. Ademek watches him leave. Presently, enter a middle-aged
soldior to pray. Seeing Adamek, he stops.]
ADAMEK: Good day. /../
SOLDIOR: Good day, good sir. /../
ADAMEK: A pleasant day.
SOLDIOR: [Nods]
/../ But it surprized me
To meet thee here.
ADAMEK: [Surprized, looks around] Why so? What of this place?
SOLDIOR: This place-- /../ 'Tis where men make repentance
Thou hast no need for that.
ADAMEK: I'm but a man.
Surely, thou don't thinkest me as flawless?
SOLDIOR: [Embarrassed] Thou seemest quite a different sort of
man.
ADAMEK: How so?
SOLDIOR: [Groping for the right word] /..../ Unshakable.
[Adamek jumps when he hears the exact same word that the doctor had just
used. Soldior is very uncomfortable.]
I meant it only thus: were there some trouble,
Dangers again, I think thou wouldst defeat it.
ADAMEK: Why yes, of course. Thank thee.
[Soldior nods, then bows momentarily to pray. However, he is very
uncomfortable, and, so, only prays for a few moments, then gets up to leave.
SOLDIOR: Good day, sir.
ADAMEK: [Nods] /...../ Goodbye.
[Aside] Am I so truly different? I, alone,
Need bear this awful burden? Were she near me,
No burden were too hard. She were my guidance
And I her kind protector. Ah, if even
Had God but brought me near to her again
To tell her all the secrets of my soul,
My bitter, grieving longing, win her over
And be her guidance to a wiser living,
To purge her of her sins and make her happier
And bind my blissful soul onto her being.
But nay, 'twas not to be. 'Twas foul ordained
That I be thrown across an endless gulf
Beyond my reaching her, while all her weakness
Ran wild, as she chased around her quarry,
Lewd, lascivious,in mad pursuit
Of Novzky--and who else?--And, as I left her,
Not even could she hold her patience after
More than an hour's passage, but ran off
In search again, until some foul fate
Doth drop onto her lap one single man
Half-decent, so she seizes on him lewdly,
As some she-dog in heat, with flapping tongue,
Runs off with him and marries him next morning.
[Enter young woman. Adamek is so intent in his musing that he does not
notice her. She looks at him, quickly says her prayers, then, looks back at
him. He still does not notice her. She feigns a small cough, to get his
attention.]
WOMAN: Excuse me, sir. I meant not to disturb thee.
ADAMEK: Nay worry.
WOMAN: 'Tis the flowers' fragrence only,
So sweet, it stifles all the senses out
And tightens up the throat.
ADAMEK: Odd fragrence, that.
WOMAN: [Nods] For't interferes in one's repentant prayers.
ADAMEK: 'Tis why thou comest here?
WOMAN: [Nods] To make amends.
ADAMEK: But, why not in a church?
WOMAN: Too many people,
And some who doth repent themselves of me.
And so I come to here each week's beginning.
ADAMEK: To make repent. And then?
WOMAN: Throughout the week
Prepare myself to come back here again.
[He looks into her eye. It dawns on him what she is up to.]
ADAMEK: It seems, today, thy prayers have most quickly
Been laid aside, preparing for the rest.
WOMAN: [Giggles] /.../ Perhaps.
ADAMEK: I'd ne'er suspect it
Without thy word. Thou seemest innocent
--Too innocent.
WOMAN: [A bit hurt] I am, for
what I do,
I never do for payment.
ADAMEK: [Aside] Heaven's love!
Are they, then all like this: sweet on
the surface,
And greedy underneath? And yet, her
presence
Eases me somewhat. Methinks this
pressure
Lifts a trifle. [Aloud] Where art thou going?
WOMAN: Nowhere, really.
ADAMEK: Why not walk with me?
WOMAN: Why, sure. This garden air is
not for sorrows,
Being sweet and fair.
ADAMEK: [Aside] Ah, how she eases me.
[Aloud] Perhaps too sweet, but
come.
[Motions to her. She puts her arm in his. He is surprized at how
forthcoming sh is, but does not remove his arm. They walk off.]
ADAMEK: Perhaps, knowing well the
flowers of this garden,
Thou teachest me their names.
WOMAN: Why, sure, I shall,
Each one and all.
ADAMEK: Good, that shall make me happy.
[Both exit. Curtain. End of Act II.]
WALSA: Doctor,
It grieves me some, being not too heartless,
To see them thus.
TAVISTOCK: The pain shant last forever,
But giveth way to new and lovely pleasures,
Of which have we not filled the land enough
To gladden them
WALSA: But can man live on pleasure?
It seldom can be ate, nor hath it ever
Brought shelter, clothes or learning to man either,
One fortnight past since we have changed the order,
Reformed all Poland, brought thy merchants in.
I doubt not all thy wisdom or thy honor,
But doth it seem to me some little trifles,
Gave out to them to make its bearing easier,
Might ease my conscience some.
TAVISTOCK: Some little trifles,
When added for them all, will make a mountain.
As I have said, reform is always painful
And need be borne steadfastly.
WALSA: /./ But, Sir. Thou thinkest from thy end; but, what of mine?
I, the King, just late returned from exile
Upon a wave of freedom. I, who even,
Have promised them safe passage from their misery:
I must sit still, ignoring all their suffering,
As beggars fill the streets, as less are working,
As famine strikes and men doth seem despairing?
What of my promises, my reputation?
What shall they think of me? It grieves me sorely.
Surely, there need be some remedy
To keep them happy, while we go through this.
[Tavistock shakes his head, 'no'.]
Why not give them coinage? Just enough
To keep them happier, and still remain
Within these boundries that thy laws constrain,
To stick to them, accomplish thy design,
Yet, do it kindler, gentler.
TAVISTOCK: /../ Never
Can we play games with coinage, play with profit,
But need we let it flow where it will flow,
Not touching, harming, stopping what it wishes,
But giving it the food that it demands,
But feeding it and letting it run wild
E'en when, by chance, it gobble up our hand
When we doth throw dead meat before its jaw.
It is a wild beast, unknowable,
Mystical its ways and many manners,
Though purring on one instant, who but knows
If not the next it tear us into shreds?
'Tis too great to be known. Thus, only worship,
Serve it, feed it, follow all its biddings
And, thus, befriend it so it treat thee kindly.
WALSA: But, what about my subjects?
TAVISTOCK: Treat them kindly
By putting them through this in their own interest.
WALSA: Ah, 'tis too much. How much need it go longer?
TAVISTOCK: One year, and, then, 'tis done.
WALSA: A heavy price.
By then, I'll be the laughingstock of Poland,
Hated, infamous.
TAVISTOCK: And loved thereafter.
WALSA: But what of now? Live in an ivory tower?
Won't thou allowest aid e'en to the poorest?
TAVISTOCK: No, I shall not. I shant allow thee this
If thou dost mean by it to make new coinage<
Or drain its scarcity from other duties,
Unless thou takest what I claim unneeded,
And tone that down.
WALSA: /../ Too oft before We've dwelled on this.
TAVISTOCK: /./ Well, think on it more,
It is the biggest cost, and being freed,
Who needeth such an army of this size?
'Twere better to reduce it for the savings
And spend what money saved on what is needed,
Trifles for the poor, or debt's repayment.
Why, 'tis enough for both.
WALSA: /./ Oft I think it,
But 'tis too much. The army hath its standing
Deep within our hearts. And much less I,
Who owe my crown to it, could e'er recover
From howls of scorn were, I, of all, to do it.
TAVISTOCK: Well, think of it. For, men in mightly England
Agree with me. For, when strong England's army
Doth lie upon thy side and wills protect thee,
.... Why waste thy own? /../ Why waste thy men?
Why throw thy healthy youth away in battle
Upon blood-muddy fields, why needless weeping,
Of wives and fiancees, why all the trouble,
If England shall protect thee. Hath it ever
Not been by thee, throughout thy darkest days,
And ne'er betrayed thee?
WALSA: England, of all other
Hath ne'er betrayed us.
TAVISTOCK: Well, then heed its warning,
And think upon this matter.--Ah, a message.
[Messenger has entered. He gives message to Walsa.]
WALSA: Thank thee.
MESSENGER: /./ Yes, sir. [Aside, eyeing Tavistock] My, what a
barnicly Lobster!
WALSA: [Reads] "Mecic hath been seized, its towers
burning.
Riot fills the air, a flood encroaching,
Masses near our lands, poised for invasion.
For love of God, demand that Ademek
Now come. Give orders to him. Seek him out.
And tell him that I come to kill the traitor.
--Signed Sir Pawlak, Colonel to Poland."
[Alarmed] Ah,
what is this? Invasion? How so sudden?
Send my alarm. --A traitor? --Let us hurry.
Send out the word to find Sir Adamek.
Come, come! Back to the castle. Call the horses.
[General commotion. All exit.]
As evening
falls, with darkness pressing quicker,
And campfires of the foe begin to flicker,
We rest, at last, from all the weary din
Of endless battle, sunk into our limbs.
The cries die down and heavy peace descends
Upon the broken hearts of Poland's men.
They turn, in nightmares, dreaming of the end,
In restless nervousness as evening wends.
But, as I sleep, with doom over my soul,
Methinks I have awakened in the cold
Some endless way from my last, bitter, bed,
And found myself another war instead.
"What war is this?" I cry. "And who these soldiors,
That o'er a million worlds stand shoulder to shoulder,
Marching with an ever-bolder gait
With brave determination t'ward some fate?
For't seems I know each one of them and all,
Somehow, sometime, if I can but recall.
But, I cannot my comprehension find,
As though my wits were fled, and I made blind.
But, the,
one man from out that ocean vast
Of marching men steps forth upon my path,
Who looketh sternly in my faltering eye,
For't is a friend of mine, but long gone by,
A sage he is from ancient China's past,
So long ago not e'en his name has ast
Survived to modern day, but all his acts
Remain and, through my life, have gode me back
Unto the proper way, hath spurred my heart
Whene'er it slowed, with wisdom's steady art,
Bekindled from the dark my dying spark,
So that, to man, I might my faith impart.
He looks me now both stern but also kind
And speaks no word. He knows I know his mind,
And points his hand across those battle lines
And frees by blocks and takes away my blinds:
There Plato
marches, with his mighty deeds
Rayed out in brilliant light for all to see.
To each far corner springs his wisdom's light
And turns to day the darkest bitter night.
Across these soldiors, on, from world to world,
His glory grows more beauteous to behold
The more it touches with its kindling flame
The many years and ages with his name.
And, nearby, Plato, marching through the ages,
Doth ride Confucius, wisest of the sages
Of China's past, along with many more
Great masters of the truth of heaven's lore:
Saint Augustine, and all the saints of heaven
March there with all the broken souls bereven
Who they have saved from sinfulness and error
And raised to bliss from out of hellfire's terror.
There rides Muhamad, of the Muslim creed,
And, near him, one named 'Cusa' , on his steed,
Debating him e'en as the battle nears,
Resolving what remains, both sides sincere,
So that both sides can join again as one
And not divide, so that the war be won.
And, near them, Moses taketh up his banner,
Marching forth with such a mighty manner
That darkness flies from him as night from morning,
Fearful of his stern and rightful warning.
And, now, I see, across those endless plains,
Score million Platos, and each one acclaimed
And loved as much as him, and each one burning
Uniquely o'er the rest the light of learning.
But, that is not the end, for countless number
Doth march thereon unnamed, as martys humbler,
Content in loving man, thay ask no fame,
But, just as brightly burns their noble flame.
Thus, kings and monarchs, soldiors, also peasants
March equally and, equally omnipresent,
Shine o'er the rest their own mind's precious treasure,
Partaking of man's goal in equal measure.
Ah, mighty army! How it stunned my soul
And shamed me of my lowly, dullened role.
And, now, my Chinese sage with kindness stern
Looks down into my eye and bids me turn
And points his arm away, far 'yond ourselves
To where the wretched foe can be beheld.
Ah, what an
utter change! No words describe
The gulf between the monsters I beheld
With drooling mouths agape and sin unquelled,
--'Tween them and us.--Another universe,
Almost, had they created for their worst,
Where devils sit and plan their evil schemes
And torture men and joy to hear them scream.
There Aristotle, with his evil grin,
Smiles on his victims while around he spins
His vile poisoned web to capture them
And drag them to his deathly spider's den.
And from him, deathly darkness, like a plague,
Drools off in seeping pools, that fill that place
So that those monsters drink this putrid bile
In order that, themselves, they grow more vile.
And there we see the masters of old Venice,
Craftier than fish and more a menace
To those who school like fish, expecting nought,
'Til they, themselves, the bitter bight have got.
There Huang Di, that evil emperor
Who buried China's scholars in his temper,
So hating beauty's light he murdered it
And burned of it the records that were writ.
Now, like a
darkened cloud, those decadants
Are seeping toward us in dread advance,
Certain of their task, they level in,
To crush the only ones who know their sins.
And, as they come, I notice fully, then
The steeds they ride are other evil men!
No horses ride with them, but each foul devil
Doth ride another one, beneath his level.
Thus, witness there, a foul and British Lord
Of some far future time, a piggish sort,
So blubbery his fat hangs down around him
And makes his weight so great, two men support him,
Crawling underneath their master's blubber.
One of these two named "Hitler", "Marx" the other.
Both crawl beneath his feet and 'neath his bridle
Are steered where'er he wishes, as their idol.
So, though each one the other bites and cuts,
When thirsty, quickly sucks the other's butt.
Ah, need I carry on? Imagine well
The sight of every creature out of hell:
Petty killers, nearby evil giants,
Barbarians and torturers and tyrants,
Passing there in pursuit of their pleasures,
To occupy the world in howsoever
Vile and brutal means. Ah, horrid vision,
For what it doth imply onto the living,
Of whom I am e'en now: oh, mighty task,
So great it dreadenes me to e'en be asked!
Just then,
one of the wisest saints of time
Doth lead a charge of soldiors past my eye.
He is a saint from some far future day,
Who looking back onto my soul doth pray:
"Dear Adamek," he cries, "my friend longstanding,
Where art thou now? Why is thy strength disbanding?
This is the greatest battle of all time.
Rise up, rise up and let thy courage shine!"
And now, his words, as some high-echoed song,
Rings back from every soldior marching strong!
"Dear Ademek," they cry, "our friend forever,
Whyfor is it thy courage falters ever?"
Ah, how I sink in shame, yet stubbornly,
Drag on my feet and from my duty flee.
They cannot wait, but to the battle fly,
While I remain and watch, from where I lie.
Beholdest
now what no words can describe,
Those armies stretched beyond all wideness wide
And leveled in upon those battle plains,
Which death hath occupied and man enslaved.
Then, Plato cries aloud, "Good soldiors, charge!
Now free thy minds and let thy souls enlarge!
And ruthlessly make battle with thy minds,
To crush their false pretentions o'er all time."
Then, o'er the plains, God's soldiors, quickly springing,
Race down upon the foe, with trumpets ringing,
Their battle axes, swords and lances swinging
Left and right, those monsters, horrererd, flinging,
Fearful, from the light that burneth them,
Wreaks havoc in their ranks and brings their end.
I see a thousand tyrants, in a second,
Sinking to their final reckoning,
While, hand-to-hand, our soldiors fight those devils<
And cast them down onto far deeper levels.
There Aristotle battles Socrates,
Who doth demolish him with truthful ease,
With help from Plato, and their many friends,
Who send him chasing, with his evil men.
And hand-to-hand, e'en as it is begun,
The war proceeds: the foe is overcome.
A billion empires, at their bases rumbling,
Doth break at once and down to dust come crumbling.
Then, as the dust doth clear, across mankind,
joy springeth up and man, freed from his binds
Taketh his place in heaven once again.
For earth is heaven now, with satan slain.
[After he
ends, there is a long silence.]
ZACZEK: 'Twas joy to be
partaken of that battle.
Why, then, thy grief?
ADAMEK: Because my place is empty.
It was to be that I, among those soldiors,
Take my eternal place.--Ah, vile error!
PAWLAK: Take it not thyself, but let me shoulder
Some of this crushing burden.
ADAMEK: O, no, no.
It is my own, alone, if e'er in ages,
If ever, in a thousand years of burning,
Can I be reconciled.--'Tis mine alone.
PAWLAK: But, I was also blind. What of the others?
ADAMEK: Their error falls to me.
[Commotion, footsteps approach, outside the dungeon.]
PAWLAK: They commeth now. I say we fight them here,
Not please them with our torture.
ZACZEK: I agree,
And bring a few with us.
[The footsteps stop, outside the door. Adamek nods, and motions Zaczek over
to the side, behind the door.]
ADAMEK: For, they would torture you to get at me.
[Sound of key in lock. Adamek kneels, as though very ill. Pawlek pretends
to watch over him, while Zaczek waits by the door. Door opens. Guards stand
outside.] GUARD: Come, all
of ye.
PAWLAK: Not yet, my friend is wounded.
GUARD: Come now, or need we make you?
PAWLAK: Not just yet.
I say we need more time.
[Enter guards, threateningly. Zaczek grabs one from the side, from his
hiding place behind the door, and hurls him into the room, where the others
pounce on him. Zaczec then grabs the sword from the second guard's hand, and
wrenches it from him. Third guard comes up behind him, and stabs him.]
ZACZEK: [Throwing the sword to
the others] Ah, victory! [Dies]
[Guards rush into room. Now, Adamek grabs the sword that Zaczek had thrown
in and holds the guards off for a few moments, while Pawlak finishes off the
guard on the ground, grabs his sword, and quickly joins Adamek. Adamek slays
one guard. The others retreat to the door and slam it shut after them.
ADAMEK: Some moments more.
PAWLAK: No doubt, 'tis heaven-sent,
That, at this end, we stand again
together,
And armed again.
ADAMEK: [Smiles slightly] No doubt.
[More commotion outside, sound of guards running.]
They shall be back in moments.
[Presently, door opens, again.]
GUARD: Will ye come out, or must we
kill you here?
PAWLAK: Send all your army in, for we
are ready.
[Door closes again. Sound of talking outside.]
'Tis our advantage, if they wish us
live,
And treat us gentler.
ADAMEK: 'Tis more curse to them.
[Presently, door opens again.]
GUARD: Will ye surrender now?
PAWLAK: Be you all deaf?
[Door closes again. Adamek and Pawlak brace for the attack. Presently, door
opens again.]
GUARD: One final chance. Surrender!
PAWLAK: Heaven's sweetness!
Ye chicken piglets, come in here and
fight us.
[Door closes again. Sound of talking. Finally, door opens and a party of
heavily armed guards enter. Pawlak stabs one through the helmet, but is quickly
overwhelmed.] PAWLAK: Long live Poland! [Dies]
[Guards beat a slight retreat from Adamek, as he slays another guard.]
GUARD: Thou cannot win against us. Now,
surrender!
[Adamek pauses, calmly, preparing for the eternity, then plunges into their
midst, hitting left and right, killing several more in one last burst. He fights
his way to the door, but is soon overwhelmed, from many wounds, as he reaches
the door.]
ADAMEK: Dear God! Forgive me! [Dies]
[A silence falls over the room. The guards stare at Ademek, as though
horrified by something. In the distance a horn sounds, then sounds again.]
GUARD: [With a dead voice] It is our victory. There sounds our horn.
Come now.
[All exit]