A Tragedy Characters:
Oulanem,a German traveller Lucindo,his companion Pertini,a citizen of a mountain town in Italy Alwander,a citizen of the same town Beatrice,his fosterdaughter Wierin Perto,a monk The action takes place inside or before Pertini's house,Alwander's house,and in the mountains.
ACT I
A mountain town Scene 1
A street.Oulanem,Lucindo;Pertini before his house.
Pertini.Sirs,the whole town is crowded out with strangers,Attracted to the spot by fame,to see The wonders of the neighbourhood.In short,I offer you my home.For at no inn Will you find room.So all I can provide With my small means I shall be glad to place At your disposal.Truly,I am drawn To friendship with you.That's no flattery.
Oulanem.We thank you,stranger,and I only fear Lest your opinion of us be too high.
Pertini.Good ...good....Then let us leave the compliments.
Oulanem.But we intend to make a lengthy stay.
Pertini.Each day the less you spend in pleasure here Will be my loss.
Oulanem.Once more we thank you warmly.
Pertini (calling a servant ).
Boy!See the gentlemen up to their room.
They wish to take some rest after their journey;
They also want to be alone and change Their heavy travelling clothes for lighter wear.
Oulanem.We take our leave,but we shall soon return.(Oulanem and Lucindo go out with the servant.)
Pertini (alone,cautiously looking round).
It's he,by God,it's he;the day has come;
He,the old friend I never could forget,Any more than my conscience gives me rest.
That's excellent!Now I'll exchange my conscience;
He shall be it henceforth,yes,he,Oulanem.
So,conscience,now may it go well with you.
For every night you stood before my bed,You went to sleep when I did,rose with me
We know each other,man,my eyes upon it!
What's more,I know that there are others here;
They are Oulanem also,also Oulanem!
There's death rings in that name.Well,let it ring Till in its owner vile it rings its last.
But wait,I have it now!As clear as air,Firm as my bones,it comes up from my soul.
His oath stands up in arms before my eyes!
I've found it,and I'll see he finds it too!
My plan is madeyou are its very soul,Yes,you,Oulanem,are its very life.
Would you work Destiny as 'twere a puppet?
Make Heaven a plaything for your calculations?
Fabricate Gods out of your old spent loins?
Now,play your part off pat,my little God;
But waitwait for your cueleave that to me!
(Enter Lucindo.)Scene 2Pertini,Lucindo.
Pertini.Pray,why so much alone,my dear young sir?
Lucindo.Curiosity.The old find nothing new.
Pertini.Indeed!Your time of life!
Lucindo.No,but if ever My soul cherished a strong desire,if ever My heart was moved by a presentient yearning,It was to call him Father,be his son,That one's whose manly and impassioned spirit Can drink in worlds entire;whose heart streams forth The radiance of the Gods.Did you not know him,Then you might not conceive that such a man Could be.
Pertini.It sounds indeed most fine and tender,When from the warm voluptuous lips of youth The praise of Age streams forth like tongues of fire.
It sounds so moral,like a Bible sermon,Just like the story of the Dame Susannah,Or like that tale about the Prodigal Son.
But dare I ask you if you know this man With whom your heart would seem so closely bound?
Lucindo.Seem?Only semblancesemblance and delusion?
You hate mankind?
Pertini.Well,at the very least I am a man!
Lucindo.Forgive if I've offended.
You are full well disposed towards the Stranger,And he who goes in friendship to the Wanderer,His spirit is not locked within itself.
You seek an answer.Answer you shall have.
We are together bound in a strange union Deep woven in the bottom of our hearts Which,even as bright blazing brands of fire,The spirits of his breast weave round with radiance,As if wellwishing Demons of the Light With thoughtful tenderness had matched us both.
Thus have I known him since long,long ago
So long ago,that Memory scarcely whispers Of our first meeting.How we found each other,I know it not.
Pertini.It sounds indeed romantic.
And yet,my dear young sir,it is but sound That sounds only to parry a request.
Lucindo.I swear to it.
Pertini.What do you swear to,sir?
Lucindo.I do not know him,yet indeed I know him.
He hides some mystery deep within his breast,Which I may not yet knownot now ...not yet···
These words repeat themselves each day,each hour.
For see,I do not know myself!
Pertini.That's bad!
Lucindo.I stand here so cut off,so separate.
The poorest wretch takes pride in what he is When,smiling,he tells of the line that bore him,Cherishing in his heart each little detail.
I cannot do this.Men call me Lucindo,But they could call me gallows too,or tree.
Pertini.What do you want,then?Friendship with the gallows?
Kinship,even?Well,I can help you there!
Lucindo (earnestly).Play not with empty syllables and sounds When I rage inwardly.
Pertini.Rage on,my friend,Till rage is spent.
Lucindo (indignantly).What do you mean?
Pertini.Mean?Nothing!I am a dry house philistine,no more,A man who simply calls each hour an hour,Who goes to sleep at nighttime,just to rise When morning comes again;who counts the hours Until he's counted out and the clock stops,And worms become the hands that show the time;
And so on till the final Judgment Day When Jesus,with the Angel Gabriel,Pronouncing sentence on his wrathful trumpet,Reads out the list of our recorded sins,And stands us on the right or on the left,And runs his Godfist over all our hides To find out whether we are lambs or wolves.
Lucindo.He'll not name me,because I have no name.
Pertini.Well said!That's how I like to hear you speak!
But since I'm just a plain house philistine,My thoughts are homely,and I handle thoughts As you do stones and sand.So if a man Cannot name his own family,but turns Up with another,he's an offshootborn On the wrong side of the blanket.
Lucindo.What was that?
