THE SADDEST OF SAD MEN by Perch Zeytuntsyan, translated by Daniel Weissbort DRAMATIS PERSONAE (in order of appearance) AUTHOR STRAUD GEYA HERA BULLY JUDGE FIRST JUROR SECOND JUROR STRAUD'S MOTHER GAOLER PRIME-MINISTER PRESIDENT MINISTER OF JUSTICE MINISTER OF COMPLICATED SITUATIONS MINISTER OF DELICATE SITUATIONS MINISTER OF SINCERITY SCHOLAR JOURNALIST ONE JOURNALIST TWO JOURNALIST THREE YOUNGER STRAUD ACT I SCENE 1 AUTHOR Each age has its own most brilliant man, its most-bold, most long-lived, most... In a word - most most. I'd have liked to tell you about the most cheerful. . . since we all love cheerful stories. And can you blame us! But I haven't managed to discover who it is. So, today I am going to tell you about the saddest man of our century. To start with, he's easier to track down. A lot easier. . . This story is documentary, based on fact. The hero and the circumstances surrounding him are real. At first, though, the author kept so close to what actually happened, that his story simply stopped being believable. And then he wrote a contemporary story, ignoring the details, changing a few things, even exaggerating a little. And at once a more or less believable story resulted. Its action takes place in the country of Alkatraz, which you won't find on any map. On the other hand, the dates are exact, which doesn't matter in the least, and so, of course, is the century, which matters a great deal. Geya's room. Geya, a beautiful thirty-year old woman, is lying on the bed. A knock at the door. Geya struggles awake. Another knock. Geya gets up reluctantly, opens the door. A young man, Straud, enters. They are both silent, as though they were waiting for someone else. And, in fact, 12 men appear, each one with a chair. They take their seats on the edge of the set, forming a square around Geya and Straud. Until the end of the Geya-Straud encounter, they remain on stage like so many silent witnesses. 12 men and two dramatis personae, neither group connected with the other. STRAUD (Resolutely but also somewhat confused) I ... I've come to ask you to marry me. Immediately after these words, the witnesses start moving their chairs towards the center. The square around Geya and Strand grows smaller. This same movement will be repeated at the more significant points in the conversation. GEYA So soon? What do you want me to say? STRAUD Whatever you wish. . . That is. . . Say, alright. . . GEYA (Indifferently) Alright. STRAUD Why are you making fun of me? (With conviction) I'll be a good husband . . . the best in the world. . . And you will love me. . . Because . . . how could you not love me then? . . GEYA (With a faint smile) But why have you kept quiet till now? We've known each other a whole year. For a whole year you've been calling on me. Haven't you kept this a secret for too long? I'd almost come to believe that a man and woman could be like brother and sister. . . Now you've spoiled everything. STRAUD (Confused) But didn't you realize? . . Did I really have to spell it out for you? GEYA It's been a long time since I could read men's minds. For me, you all look at things the same way, speak the same way, think the same thoughts, smell the same. Only the words are different. But it's only the words I believe. No, I don't believe. . . I just understand. No, I don't understand. . . I listen. (In a monotone, but anxiously) Five o'clock. . . Nice weather we're having. .. I love you. . . The room's got four walls. . . Wait for me tonight. . . Have you got any cigarettes? .. Give me one. . . Straud (Firmly, with confidence): I'll teach you. . . I'll make sure we understand one another without having to say a word. I'm not promising money, riches. . . We'll always be penniless. We'll always be poor. But there's one thing I can promise you, and that's to hold my tongue and understand you. You can be sure of that! Now I know what you need. . . GEYA (Smiling faintly) How old are you? STRAUD (Animatedly) I want you to be happy. You simply have to be happy. Sometimes so little is needed for happiness. . . GEYA How old are you? STRAUD Nineteen. GEYA If we are going to be poor, we won't be able to hold our tongue and understand one another. For that you need money. If we are going to be rich, we'll also not be able to. It's impossible with money. So put it out of your mind. You won't be able to hold your tongue with anyone. You'll talk, and talk and talk! STRAUD I know you despise me. Just because you're thirteen years older than me, do you think that gives you the right to despise me? And I know why you despise me. Because I'm not like others. The others are real men. They don't waste time. They can explain everything. But I come to you each day and each day I'm determined I'll be like them. And I can't. (Long pause. He looks at Geya with hatred. Suddenly) Do they give you money? GEYA (Tensely) What do you mean, money? STRAUD Money, money, to go to bed with you! Do they give you money? GEYA (Tensely) Of course. Although, if a man appeals to me, I don't ask for anything. STRAUD (Uncertain as to whether he wants to insult her, or is simply curious) Would you take it from me? GEYA (Tensely) Maybe. STRAUD (In a whisper) How much? GEYA How much have you got? STRAUD No, you say, how much? GEYA Now I like you. I knew I would. Tonight you can stay with me, and in the morning you'll look around in amazement, not knowing where you are, who's sleeping beside you. Hurriedly you'll throw on a few clothes and slip away in silence. And that'll be fine. STRAUD And what do they whisper to you at night? What do they say? GEYA I don't remember. I don't pay attention. STRAUD (Obstinately) What do they whisper? What do they say? GEYA (In an anguished voice) What do you want of me? STRAUD (Explosively) I want to learn. I want to be able to say the same things. I want to be like everyone else. Tell me what they whisper to you? GEYA See, you've already got the idea. But if you want to marry everyone you feel like spending the night with. . . (Starts to laugh.) STRAUD I want to marry you! (Again Straud has sounded unexpectedly sincere. And so the 12 men again move their chairs. The square around Geya and Straud grows smaller.) Geya (Softly): That'll do for now, I'm tired. It's getting on my nerves. I don't like virgins. They complicate things. You don't know what to expect from them. Gentle, cruel. They can be both at the same time and just as sincerely. Good, and bad. But usually - bad. And if they ran the world! God help us. . . (Quite unexpectedly, without any logical connection) It's all your fault. . . It's my fault. . . I don't know whose fault it is. . . It's your fault. . . When men came to me, you talked to them politely. . . You were neat, handsome … nicely dressed. . . Poor but nice. . . And do you know what you smelt of? . . Cleanliness and uprightness. It took one's breath away, it was a real joy. . . One felt like hugging you, looking after you, telling you stories with a happy ending. . . And you said clever things. . . So calm, so sweet. . . With your three years of school. . . I felt ashamed for you, each clever interesting thing you said. . . I felt insulted. . . That's also typical of poor folk. . . O, I can tell them from a mile off. . . I can always tell them. . . Illiterate but with a natural intelligence. . . Knowing how to behave . . . knowing how to dress. Poor but neat. . . It's all so phoney. . . Illogical. . . And then you got up, found some idiotic reason and left. . . And do you know what you did as you said goodbye? You shook hands with them! Why? Why did you talk with them? Foolish boy! Why did you let them treat you so rudely, when you were so polite to them? . . . That way you made yourself small . . . It's where you suffered a defeat. . . You were routed! . . . And they'll tear you apart! . . . You won't be able to bear it. . . Why are you so polite to them, why do you let them treat you so rudely . . . (Maliciously) It's all over. There's nothing you can do about it. You've given in, that's all there is to it. (To the author who has been standing to one side, while this was going on) And you, what are you eavesdropping for? What are you interfering in our lives for? What can you know? Can you do anything about it? Well, can you? If you can't, just clear off, wait your turn! The author leaves the stage silently. GEYA And they know how to ... how to put us down, to crush us. . . That's why the next day you were even more polite with them and even more pathetic with me. . . But I'm not one of them. . . Do you want me to solve this puzzle? (Distinctly) I'm like you.. . (A short pause. In a completely different tone of voice - softly, wearily) Yes I'll let you in on a secret. . . I'm a virgin too. Don't be surprised. . . The Lord protect us from virgins. . . STRAUD I love you. The witnesses move their chairs again, and the square grows smaller. GEYA I love you too. I really do. You could teach me. But be gentle, slow. . . Look, please. . . If you just whispered it quickly in my ear ... if you spoke your mind. . . Don't hold back. . . Just say what you have to say. . . Even if it's ordinary. . . So much the better. . . It will still be better than anything I've ever heard before. Will you? You wanted to. . . Let's just be silent. . . One minute's silence. . . Maybe, we'll really understand everything. . . They are silent. STRAUD We'll leave town. We'll follow our noses. If we're together - the two of us that is - it'll give us strength. On the other hand, though, why should we leave, Geya? Run away? Why? We've still got unfinished business. With them. All those who have insulted us. We shan't let them get away with it so easily. . . GEYA That's right, Bob. . . STRAUD (Excitedly) We'll have lots of children, and we'll raise them. . . We'll teach them that children mustn't interrupt adults when they're speaking. . . And lots of other important rules too! And if I punish one of them, don't you try to defend him. .. Don't play up to them. . . Because that's the way to spoil them. . . Hold your tongue even if you can see that I'm in the wrong. . . (His face lights up, he speaks in a staccato manner, as if the excitement and happiness were choking him) In the morning we'll all have our tea together, the whole family, and our well-brought up children won't chatter and be naughty at table. That will be our revenge, yours and mine. Our revenge for everything. You know what I mean, for everything. GEYA I know what you mean, Bob. I do. Straud, happy now, moves towards Geya. Geya waits for him. They are both eagerly looking forward to this moment. GEYA (Abruptly) Just a moment, Bob. Don't. Straud (Surprised): Why not? GEYA No, no, don't. STRAUD But why not? GEYA Honestly. It'll only make things worse. STRAUD I don't understand, Geya. Why? GEYA Believe me. It'll make things worse. STRAUD Geya. . . GEYA I'm telling you, nothing will come of it. I know that nothing will come of it. (With sad irony) After all, I'm thirteen years older than you. The circular stage revolves. Geya remains in the same spot, outside the circle, but Straud is now on the other side of the stage, though also in the same position as before. BLACKOUT THE SADDEST OF SAD MEN by Perch Zeytuntsyan, translated by Daniel Weissbort SCENE 2 Geya and Straud are positioned as before. Only now Geya is lying face down on the couch sobbing loudly. STRAUD (With a bunch of flowers) What's happened? You're crying? (Geya doesn 't answer, but continues to sob. Straud, alarmed, approaches Geya, turns her over and looks at her horrified.) You've been beaten up! Where's your gold locket? (In despair, he looks around. The wardrobe door is open, everything there is mixed up. Articles are scattered all over the floor. Considering the situation, gloomily.) Him ? Again ? Geya nods her head. And he took the money? And the locket? Geya, sobbing, nods her head. (In a panic) Wait a moment. I'll be right back. I won't be a moment! It rained today, it'll be slushy outside. … Hang on. . . (Rushes out of the room.) The men move their chairs. The square grows smaller. BLACKOUT SCENE 3 It is the same decor as before. But instead of Geya, Bully is lying there. STRAUD Give me back Geya's money. And the locket. . . BULLY (With his eyes closed) Leave me alone. I'm in the middle of a dream. STRAUD Give it back. Please. BULLY (Not stirring) You must be Geya's husband. Glad to know you. STRAUD No, I'm not her husband yet. But we're going to be married. How am I going to convince you? I've no choice. I have to get her money back. The locket as well. I can't return empty-handed. BULLY (Terrifyingly calm) You're quite right. If I was in your shoes, I'd be doing the same. I wouldn't allow my future wife to be beaten up and her money taken away! And the locket as well! You're doing the right thing. STRAUD You can see how calm I am, how polite I'm being. Doesn't that tell you something about me. BULLY Of course it does. You really want to be happy. That's all you want - happiness. My eyes may be closed! But I can smell it! The smell of happiness... I don't like it. It reminds me of cheap Eau-de-Cologne. Excuse me if I don't get up. And if my eyes are closed. STRAUD I've seen you around a lot. I was in your bar. You probably don't remember me. So many people come to your place, how would you remember? I know you've always boasted of your strength. BULLY (Offended) Only boasted? Is that all? STRAUD No, that's right. I saw you beat up men too. BULLY I know. And were you impressed? Did you envy me? If you say you were impressed, I'll give you back Geya's money. And if you say, you envied me, you'll get the locket. STRAUD I was impressed. I did envy you. BULLY How do you expect to be happy!. . . STRAUD Give me back the money. BULLY (Sadistically toying with him) And why should I? It's true I might like to! But I can't see why I should! Findings keepings! STRAUD Please, forget for a moment that you are stronger than me, that you could beat me to a pulp. . . Just put it out of your mind. . . Hand over the money. And the locket. . . BULLY Let's just suppose I do. And also that I did beat up your Geya. Geya, who is going to be your wife! So, what's to be done about it? Do you feel I ought to apologize? STRAUD Please. . . Don't. . . Don't say things like that. . . Don't ruin me... All the same, I'm going to get the money back... And the locket. . . You know I shall. I'm not leaving here without. . . You must know that. I've got no choice. If you like, I'll return the money to you later? Twice as much even. I'll work for you free of charge. I'll cut wood in winter. Whatever you like, I'll do it. . . But right now, hand over the money and the locket. . . Bully (Interrupting him): Don't demean yourself. A man shouldn't demean himself. He's got no right to. Later on you'll feel ashamed. You'll regret your words. Yes, I beat men up. But you shouldn't be scared. And yes, you're weaker than me. But you shouldn't be scared. In the end, it's not strength that counts. There's something higher than strength, that's what you must bear in mind. I don't know what it is. But people like you know. Straud (Shouting suddenly): Stand up, when I'm talking to you! Stand up! (He approaches him angrily, seizes him by the collar and shakes him). I asked you. I begged you. Why are you ruining me? You know I'm not going to leave. . . You know I'm going to get my own way. .. You know it's impossible... But I've got no choice... Why don't you listen to me?. . . Why don't you?... Why?. . . An enormous man rises to his feet, breaks free from Strand's grip, throws him down and begins to throttle him. Straud tries unsuccessfully to liberate himself from this iron hold. With difficulty he digs into his pocket, pulls out a pistol, places it against Bully's temple and fires. The shot is inaudible. The 12 men move their chairs and mimic the sound of the shot. . The square again grows smaller. Straud struggles out from under Bully's body which has toppled over onto him, and stares at the corpse in horror. STRAUD (Almost inaudibly) I warned him I'd got no choice. . . (For the last time the men move their chairs. The square has grown very small so that now Straud is practically hidden. Straud lifts his arms.) Enter Geya. GEYA (Shouts) Didn't I tell you no good would come of it. You wouldn't listen to me, and now look. Geya knows better. After all, I'm thirteen years older than you. . . STRAUD (In the same position, with arms uplifted, not looking at her) Do you know, Geya, I didn't even speak to him disrespectfully!. . . GEYA (Sits down on the floor, clasps her knees, buries her chin in her arms and repeats in a dull voice) Five o'clock. It's nice weather today. I love you. The room has four walls. Wait for me tonight. Have you got any cigarettes? Give me some. . . AUTHOR Chronicle. Excerpt from a foreign writer's factual account: Straud was issued grey prison clothing and handed a copy of the Prison Rules, of which there were 95. The 'Silence System' was enforced. All conversations between prisoners outside their cells, during meal time, and even at work, were prohibited. In the refectory, prisoners were forbidden to look to either side. Bread crusts had to be placed only on the left side of the plate. Prisoners who broke rules, were beaten unmercifully and handcuffed to the cell doors or strung up by their thumbs. Offenders were often shackled and 25-pound iron weights attached to them for several months. These weights had to be dragged behind, if the prisoners wanted to move about. This was called 'Carrying the Baby'. The warden provided himself with a unique form of protection, which was called the 'Burglar Alarm', that is - two specially trained terriers. When he was walking, the dogs ran ahead of him, and if a prisoner was lurking round a corner, the dogs would bark savagely. Surrounding the prison was a high wall. The warden had ordered the guards to shoot any prisoner who came closer than six paces or further away than twenty from the wall. This is why the prisoners had such a vigilant look about them. SCENE 4 Law-court. On stage, the judge, two jurors, Straud and the Author. JUDGE First name, surname. . . STRAUD I'm guilty. I killed him. JUDGE First things first. We're not denying that you killed him. But. . . First name and surname. STRAUD I killed him. JUDGE You're showing contempt of court. At this time we are not interested in who killed whom. Bob Straud, are you finally going to tell us your surname or not? FIRST JUROR I move that we postpone the trial. Particularly since we do not yet know who the murderer is. In fact, we've not yet found him, have we? Let's try the offender for contempt of court. AUTHOR What do you mean, "We do not yet know who the murderer is?" He just confessed. FIRST JUROR (Condescendingly) Does a defendant's confession carry any weight? It's we who have to find the murderer. We, not him. After all, the defendant has no legal training. Why is he interfering in our affairs? How should he know what we are charging him with? Suppose we suddenly brought a completely different charge against him? JUDGE Straud, aside from this unfortunate disagreement, I have to say that I admire you. You acted quite correctly, in carrying out this murder. You defended your loved one. I'm not at all sure that in our day and age there are so many who could be capable, in the first place, of such a selfless love, and in the second place, of sacrificing themselves for the sake of love. SECOND JUROR For instance, I know for a fact that my son would rather have let this man, who was stronger than him, keep the money and the locket, while he himself slept in a warm soft bed in his sweetheart's arms. FIRST JUROR All your life you have sought the protection of others. But when you found yourself in love, it was you who was obliged to become the protector. You simply didn't have time to ponder your new role. And it's a very good thing you didn't. (Straud, stupefied, looks now at the judge, now at the jurors. His gaze rests on the author.) STRAUD (Fervently) Are they going to release me, then? (The author shakes his head.) (Incredulously) What do you mean? They're on my side, aren't they? (The author shakes his head.) JUDGE Date of birth. STRAUD (Wearily, as if reconciling himself to his fate) 1891. JUDGE Nationality? STRAUD Alkatrazan. JUDGE Denomination? STRAUD Catholic. . . (Suddenly) May I tell you my first name and surname? JUDGE Yes. STRAUD Bob Straud. . . JUDGE (Glowing with pleasure) This is a great victory for us, gentlemen. The defendant has suffered a defeat. He has submitted to the authority of the court. FIRST JUROR (Stands up, approaches Straud and scrutinizes him carefully) He's well built. He'd have made a splendid athlete. SECOND JUROR Poor lad. He might have got married, had children and lived a happy life. What did he need integrity for, when all around is venality, deception, thieving, low-down behavior. . . JUDGE Especially since he is illiterate. I just read in his dossier that he's only had three years of school. FIRST JUROR (Outraged) To be illiterate and yet to act honorably? What a cheek! In this case, integrity is tantamount to an inferiority complex. STRAUD (Scared) What does that mean? SECOND JUROR We're under no obligation to explain. STRAUD (In a panic) But I want to know! I must know. Tell me, what does it mean? After all, I'm the one who's being accused, not you. JUDGE (Stands up) Bob Straud, you have been charged with murder. The court sentences you to death by hanging. STRAUD (Shrinking) I understand, it's all over with me! The day I first realized I was in love. . . when I realized what happiness was. What a hope! (With a grin) Happiness. . . Even the word sounds strange to me. (With lowered head) Please forgive me. My impudence, my cheek. (Suddenly shouting in horror) It's Geya who's to blame. Why don't you try her. Why didn't you bring her up? I told her I loved her! But she was older than me, see. . . Thirteen years older. And she wasn't beautiful. Honestly, she wasn't! She tricked me. She pretended to be better than other women. She gave herself to men for money. Try her! Hang her! (He weeps.) Poor Geya! I've betrayed you. I've managed to betray you, even before loving you! Before saying anything. I've already taken back my words - before doing anything, I've changed my mind! (To judge entreatingly) Tell Geya I love her. If what I said's reported to her, I hope she won't believe it. (Suddenly, with Schadenfreude) But she won't. Whatever you do, you'll not be able to convince her I'm a scoundrel. . . I've proved that I'd do anything for her. And now I don't regret it. (Suddenly it sinks in. Whispering) It's true I only had three years of school. But I was always first in the class. Mother said so. Maybe it will save me. AUTHOR I object to the court's decision, on the grounds that legal procedures have been violated today. STRAUD (Uneasily) But, but. . . AUTHOR The first juror's trousers are creased. That's one violation of the legal code. The second juror was tapping his fingers on the table the whole time, which is also a gross violation of the code, since it means his nervous system is out of order. And a man with an unsettled nervous system can't sit in judgment. The judge in a panic is leafing through the code. Judge (Gloomily): Unfortunately counsel's objection is correct. A number of legal errors have been committed. Are you prepared to argue your case in court? Bear in mind that it will engage you for two years, to be precise. AUTHOR Yes, I am so prepared. JUDGE The court is adjourned. Author (To the audience): Chronicle! The fact is that the Alkatraz legal code does not permit anyone to be tried twice for the same offence. JUDGE But if we now adjourn, you may lodge the same claims next time. AUTHOR That is right. JUDGE (Nonplussed) So that each time we will be obliged to cancel the session. It will be a vicious circle. Not to mention the fact, that it will make Alkatraz ridiculous in the eyes of the world. FIRST JUROR Maybe we should appeal to the patriotic sentiments of the defendant and persuade him to commit another offence, so as to appear in court for the first time? AUTHOR (Smiling) There's only one way of breaking this vicious circle, only one way of avoiding a scandal. The president must commute the death penalty to one of imprisonment for life. JUDDE (Stands up) He is sentenced to imprisonment for life. By order of the president. . . Yes, Bob Straud, due to the president's clemency, your life has been spared. (Straud falls to his knees in joy.) JUDGE The president will now permit you to make a last request. STRAUD What is an inferiority complex? Why didn't you explain it to me? FIRST JUROR You'll never find out. STRAUD I should like to read books. JUDGE (Contemptuously) Books? STRAUD Give me permission to read books in prison. JUDGE (Alarmed) So long as it doesn't come to the notice of the president! SECOND JUROR But this is a challenge. He's thrown down the gauntlet to us. STRAUD I told you. I've only had three years of school. AUTHOR Chronicle. Although he was sentenced several times, it was Straud who triumphed in the end. JUDGE (Angrily) You'll be kept in solitary confinement until the end of your days. (Straud nods happily.) You'll not see a single ray of sunshine, you'll not associate with anyone, and every day the guards will make fun of you. (Straud nods happily.) You'll rot in a gaol, you'll turn into a nothing, you'll be known only by a number. And that's what your whole life will be till the day you die. And don't expect me or my jurors to come to your rescue. AUTHOR Chronicle. When doors of the prison clanged shut behind Straud, in 1909, Teddy Roosevelt was still President of the United States, Wilhelm von Hohenzollern was vigorous and energetic, it was a whole five years before the shot that rang out at Sarajevo. The prisoner Straud kissed his woman for the last time even before the "Titanic" went down, and there was still a tsar on the throne of Russia. Straud had never seen an airplane, or a television set, had never sat at the wheel of a car, and the streets he walked in had never known traffic lights. Prison filled his entire existence. So many years in solitary! More years than any other prisoner in the entire history of the 20th century. SCENE 5 A prison cell. Thick walls. A bed, a simple table with many books on it, a wash-basin. And a steel door. On the bed, by the table, sits Straud, immersed in reading. The steel door opens with a screach and Straud's mother enters, wearing a dressing-gown and bedroom slippers. She is carrying a tray loaded with dirty plates. MOTHER I'm not disturbing you, am I, Bob? (Goes to the wash basin and rinses the crockery.) It's a shame we've so little room at home now. Not even a separate kitchen. STRAUD No, ma, I always expect you at this time. You're always the first to visit me in my mind's eye. MOTHER What time is it? STRAUD I don't know. MOTHER Would you like some coffee? STRAUD Make it sweet. . . very sweet. . . sickly sweet even. MOTHER (Softly) I've brought you some candy. STRAUD (Unexpectedly) Moma, whom do you love best in the whole world? MOTHER You. STRAUD (Insistently) Tell me the truth. Me or my brother? Or our father? MOTHER But they're dead, Bob. STRAUD (Drily) That means, you must love them more. MOTHER On the contrary, Bob. (She crosses herself.) Why, I've forgotten them. After all, it's been so many years. Straud (Rudely): You're lying, ma. . . MOTHER Bob, I've no one except you in the whole world. STRAUD (Despairingly) I don't believe you, ma. . . Don't pretend. If you really loved me, why didn't you sell off everything, so as to get me out of here? You know it's only money can do that. At least, that's how it was in my day. And I've no reason to suppose the world's changed since then. MOTHER Bob, what are you saying! You shouldn't say things like that. I did sell everything. . . STRAUD (Irritably) Not true. . . Just look at you! Do you look like someone who sold everything? Could a poor person have a dressing-gown like that? Slippers like those? Look, they're brand new. Why do they have to be so new? MOTHER Bob, what are you saying? … STRAUD (Cruelly) And if you really do love me, why are you still alive? Other mothers would have died of grief! They'd have done away with themselves! MOTHER I'd have lost all self-respect if such a thought had ever crossed my mind. I have to be stronger than that. STRAUD Ma. . . So, you really do love me? MOTHER Silly boy, come here. (Half joking, half serious, she takes her son by the ear.) Down on your knees, son, and apologize! STRAUD Pinch me harder, ma... Like before... Punish me... Don't give me any coffee, or any candy. . . MOTHER (Embracing her son) Don't lose heart, Bob. Don't ever let them bring you to your knees. You weren't like this before. Is it the solitude, these four walls, that have changed you? STRAUD Ma, do you love me? Will you always love me? Only me? More than anyone else?. . . Will you suffer because of me? Because your love's my only link with the world. MOTHER Don't worry, Bob. I shan't leave you. I'll come every day. I'm always the first to visit you in your mind's eye. Straud stands motionless, snuggling up to his mother. MOTHER Goodbye, Bob. Don't let the coffee get cold. And don't eat all the candy at once. (But the mother does not leave, she stands motionless to one side.) STRAUD Gaoler! (Enter gaoler.) (Greets him exultantly) I've got it! . . I knew I was on the right track. GAOLER More nonsense? You're for the Hole. Prison rule number 86. . . STRAUD (With blazing eyes) Just imagine a box. . . This size. .. Inside, a bundle of wires and cells.. . Each cell is a memory. . . You can ask it any queation you want. . . Press the button and.. . Do you see?. .. It answers you. . . It'll make our lives easier. . . Look, here's the diagram . . . There'll be no more mistakes. . . We'll all live right. Which of us doesn't dream of living right? GAOLER But who needs your box? Who needs to know the truth? Me, for instance? Do I need to know that I'm cruel and ignorant? STRAUD (Distractedly) Perhaps you don't. GAOLER Or maybe the president would want to know. . . STRAUD No, he wouldn't want that. GAOLER And would you want your box to fall into my hands? STRAUD No! Of course not! GAOLER And there's one more thing wrong with your invention, You made this box just for yourself. So you could press a button and get the answer that you're not guilty. But, actually, you really aren't guilty. (Goes to the door.) I told you: you're for the Hole. One week. STRAUD So, I'm still not free, gaoler? GAOLER (Shakes his head.) Because your invention makes no sense at all. (Exit. Straud, rooted to the spot, stands and stares at the witnesses. From his face it is possible to guess the question that is tormenting him. Enter Geya.) STRAUD (With hatred) You don't love me. You're wearing an overcoat. If you loved me, you'd be wearing a dressing-gown and slippers. GEYA Bob, don't torture me like that. I can't forget you. STRAUD But you'll get married, won't you? To someone else. . . You wouldn't even think of waiting for me. GEYA Wait for how long, Bob? After all, you won't be coming back, will you? You'll never be coming back. STRAUD (In horror, as if the thought has only just occurred to him) Who told you? Answer me! If you don't answer, I'll kill you! GEYA Don't you know, Bob? STRAUD Why have you reminded me, Geya? My only hope is to forget it. (Angrily) If I haven't gone out of your mind already, if you really are suffering, why have you stayed so young? Look at me. Look how I've changed. GEYA It's just that you remember me that way. It's not my fault. STRAUD (Unable to drop the subject) But don't you feel any pangs of conscience?. . . When he, when the other one, is embracing you and caressing you in bed . . . whispering in your ear . . . don't you see a line? The line of intersection of the two walls? GEYA No, Bob. STRAUD But I'm standing under that line! Can't you see me? GEYA No, Bob. STRAUD Don't say anything, Geya. I'm going crazy. You must see me, live for me. You must be faithful to me till the end of your life. Sleep with whomever you like, but be faithful only to me. GEYA You're mixed up. I'm not your mother, Bob! She'll be back again tomorrow. But not me. I'm already forgetting your face. What do you want? I can't change things. I've even left town, so as to forget the past. STRAUD Geya, don't be cruel, I'm going crazy. GEYA Bob, I have to be cruel. Look at me and don't deceive yourself. Don't be afraid. You don't love me any more. I'm not offended. Only don't let yourself be crushed . . . broken. . . STRAUD (Like a child) I never . . . but won't you at least remember me from time to time? GEYA From time to time? Of course I will. Goodbye. Forget yourself, Bob. It's your only hope of salvation. (But Geya does not leave, she stands motionless to one side, next to his mother.) STRAUD (Exultantly) Gaoler! (Enter gaoler.) GAOLER Do you want another spell in the Hole? STRAUD (Happily, animatedly) I've got it! I swear on these books of mine. Look, just imagine a huge, thick plate of glass. . . You face a building with it. (Triumphantly) And you've got a clear view of what's going on inside. GAOLER And what's the point of that? STRAUD (Crushed) The point again, gaoler? You don't think there's any point? GAOLER Because this is just another one of your typical prisoner's inventions. It's like the last time. . .. You've made something just for yourself. So as not to be bored and so you can see everything. Alright then, two weeks. Two weeks in the hole! STRAUD So, I’m still not free? GAOLER (Shakes his head) No, because your invention makes no sense at all. (Exit. Straud in despair, takes a piece of glass from his pocket and shines it against the walls of the cell…Enter Bully.) STRAUD (Coldly) What brings you here? I wasn’t expecting you. BULLY There’s nothing you can do about it. It’s your destiny. If you’d not been so young at the time, your life would have been filled with events, and, naturally, you’d have had many acquaintances. It’s not my fault your circle was so narrow… STRAUD What brings you here? I don’t need you. You can’t love me. BULLY I’ve come to help you. I shall always be close to you and keep watch over you, like a trusty dog. You’ll hate me. And this hatred will give you strength. You will free yourself from egotism and no longer demand to be loved. STRAUD But what will you get out of this? After all, you too hate me. I don’t understand what your interest in all this is. BULLY I have killed you with pleasure, but you turned out to be smarter than me. And now you owe me. Even if I were a total villain, it would make no difference, you’d still owe me. Isn’t it a fact? Right now you’re regretting the murder. Your regret, directly or indirectly, relates to me, isn’t that so? STRAUD What do you want? Make it short. I’m busy. BULLY (Smiling) You’re busy? Here, in this cell? When you don’t even know what time of day it is? You must repay your debt to me. You must love me. STRAUD (Taken aback) Me? BULLY No one has ever loved me in my life. I was only hated and feared. But now, however ridiculous it may seem, I’m tied to you. Without you, I’ve got nothing. STRAUD But I myself need love! I’m always asking everyone else for it. BULLY Love me a little. Try! You’ll see you can. STRAUD I hate you. I hate everybody. Without exception. BULLY And what about your inventions? Love…You’ve failed, because your inventions, however brilliant, don’t make any sense. And yet, all the same, you’ve been successful. You’ve gained love. STRAUD You may be right. Yes, yes, you are right. But did you have to be the one to tell me? BULLY So, it’s a bargain. Goodbye. STRAUD You mean, I shouldn’t believe your gaoler? BULLY That your inventions serve only your own purpose? (Laughs) He’s cruel and, what’s more, he’s ignorant. (Bully doesn’t leave either, but stands motionless besides Geya and Straud’s mother.) STRAUD (At the top of his voice) Gaoler! (Enter Gaoler.) GAOLER Three weeks in the Hole. STRAUD (Animatedly) No, this time you’re out of order. Listen to what I’ve written. And you won’t be able to take it away from me either. “No one sleeps under this sky. No one, no one. No one sleeps. The lunar shadows circle I their own huts. Here on sleepless nights people devour the serpent’s heart. There is a dead man in a distant graveyard, Who has been complaining these three years, That his legs hurt even in the grave; And the boy, who was buried this morning, Wept so loudly that dogs had to be summoned, to make him stop. But there is no oblivion, there are no dreams, There is only living flesh… The day will come, When horses will enter taverns, And mad ants Will crawl over the yellow sky, Reflected in the eyes of cows…” GAOLER But this poem…it’s already been written. STRAUD What! It’s the fruit of my sleepless nights! I wrote it! And I shan’t surrender it to anyone! GAOLER It's already been written. Shall I tell you the author? Garcia Lorca. A Spaniard by nationality. STRAUD I never heard it. I never ever heard it. I've only had three years of school. Alright, then, so he and I wrote the same thing? Felt the same thing? Without knowing one another? (He smiles.) I've never been so happy. (The goaler makes for the door.) Gaoler, gaoler! GAOLER (Amazed) What else do you want? STRAUD Just a moment, please. (The stage fills with the whistling of birds. Straud gets down on his knees, extracts a sparrow from under the bed, strokes it, warms it with his breath. . . Then he holds it out to his gaoler.) (Proudly) This little sparrow, I. . . Look, gaoler, I healed it. And you're not going to take it away from me! It was lying by the window, hurt. I passed sleepless nights. I never left its side. I looked after it like a child. Do you remember the medication you brought me? The herbs I asked for, do you remember? I cured it. And you are powerless to take it away from me. Because it, this little bird, is concrete, specific. There's only me and it. No one else could have cured it. I'll send you off to the Hole, gaoler. This time it's you who'll go there. (The room continues to resound to the chirping of birds. Prisoners crowd onto the stage. They all look with delight at Straud's palm. They are witnessing a great miracle.) GAOLER Do you see, you wretches, he has become a scholar. This illiterate outcast. See what wonders gaol can work! You should be glad you're wearing prison clothes. You ought to be grateful to me. (Scared, he backs away. Suddenly realizing what is happening, he yells.) Break it up! Break it up right away! One month in the Hole for each of you. On account of your witnessing all this. And as for your little bird, I'll throttle it with my own bare hands. I'm not going to let you ruin me. I'm not going to let any two-bit tramp tell me I can't stop a man in his tracks, can't bring him to his knees. I'm not going to allow some lousy genius to spring up under my very nose. No! Even if the whole world kowtows to you, you're going to have to kowtow to your gaoler! (The prisoners disperse silently. The gaoler hurries out of the room. The birdsong fades. Straud lies contentedly on the bed. His mother, Geya and Bully pick up the sheets lying about on the floor and carefully cover him. They themselves sit down on the floor next to the bed and gaze silently into the auditorium.} SCENE 6 The stage is divided into two floors. On the upper one is the president's cabinet, on the lower Straud's cell. PRIME-MINISTER He's an unusual prisoner, Mr. President. A scholar. He heals birds in prison. Just imagine, with his three years of school. PRESIDENT (Frowning) A scholar? In our prison? Locked away? PRIME-MINISTER Yes, yes, Mr. President, isolated from the world. Just imagine. PRESIDENT (Worried) So then, this miserable wretch is still being creative? And he'd no such tendencies before prison? PRIME-MINISTER He's becoming a great scholar, Mr. President. The gaoler sent me a report. And the gaoler's prognoses have always been correct. PRESIDENT (Frowning even more) What's the conclusion, prime-minister?. . . It seems that in prison he's free? PRIME-MINISTER Mr. President, if you'll permit me, I cannot accept that premise. He is a prisoner. PRESIDENT (Very worried) Idiot. He's discovered freedom for himself. He has won his freedom, irrespective of our laws and penalties. (Pensively, pacing slowly back and forth.) PRIME-MINISTER So what kind of a life term is it, if he has won his freedom? (Outraged) With just three years of school too! Well, even if he were educated ... or ... (The president comes to a halt and gazes long at the prime-minister.) PRESIDENT He must be eliminated! Right away! So no trace of him remains. That's the only way his freedom can be removed. PRIME-MINISTER It can't be done, Mr. President. You personally spared his life, and yourself signed the document, on his mother's request. PRESIDENT (Refusing to listen) If he is free, he must be eliminated. PRIME-MINISTER But your signature is law and besides it's sacred. PRESIDENT (Refusing to listen) He must be eliminated, if he is free. PRIME-MINISTER But Mr. President, it will cause a scandal. We won't be able to keep it quiet. PRESIDENT (Disappointed) So then, he is free and will remain free. In that case don't keep reminding me about him. (He heaves a sigh of relief.) Alright, fine, let's discuss affairs of state for a while. What's happening with the revolution? If I'm not mistaken, a week ago a revolution was brewing? PRIME-MINISTER It failed, Mr. President. PRESIDENT Because none of you have got any brains. PRIME-MINISTER Thank goodness it did fail. Aren't you pleased? PRESIDENT (Indignantly) But you're my ministers, for god's sake! And I shan't stand for my ministers being so dim-witted they can't organize one miserable revolution. I'm only strong because of you. (Grimly) Listen, tell me the truth, were you mixed up in this business too? PRIME-MINISTER (Week-kneed from fear) Yes, Mr. President. And I deeply regret it now and am ashamed of it. PRESIDENT On the contrary, you've grown in my estimation. At last you're a real man. And if, in addition, you'd been the leader of this revolution, I would have embraced you and congratulated you on it. What other news is there? PRIME-MINISTER There's an uprising in the north of the country, Mr. President. PRESIDENT Suppress it. Don't take more than a day. But suppress it so the rebels don't feel too bad. Don't wound their pride. Anything else? What other news is there? Wait a moment, though, prime-minister .. .just one moment... I can't get this illiterate prisoner out of my mind . . . this newly discovered scholar of ours. . . PRIME-MINISTER Yes, Mr. President. The gaoler warned me that soon the entire world would know of his existence. And his prognoses. . . PRESIDENT (Interrupting him) But doesn't it seem strange to you, that those birds managed to get into a prison cell? Very odd! What are we to do prime-minister? How are you going to deal with this? I can't get this wretch out of my mind. (As though mentally trying to solve a complicated problem.) If he is free, he has to be eliminated. . . But if he cannot be eliminated, and the world soon gets to know of his existence. . . (Pause. Then, as if seeing the answer) So then, he will become our pride. Our national pride. And we ourselves will be obliged to grant him his freedom. This is the only honourable solution. (Animatedly) Let's think of appropriate grounds. Convincing grounds. (Impatiently) Come on, come on! Use your head! PRIME-MINISTER His mother is waiting for you, Mr. President. PRESIDENT (Flustered) His mother? Why didn't you say so earlier? Think of something. Tell her I'm not here. Something. . . PRIME-MINISTER It can't be done, Mr. President. She's travelled a thousand miles. She's applied to dozens of officials, until she managed to get an audience with you. And besides, weren't you yourself trying to find grounds? PRESIDENT Poor mother. I was so young when I lost my own mother. This prisoner is lucky his mother is still alive. (In a panic) But what am I to say to her? If it were another president or another minister, I might be able to find some way out. But she's an ordinary woman. It's been a long time since I've associated with such people. I don't know how to talk to them. Does she understand our language? PRIME-MINISTER We speak the same language, Mr. President. In our country there's a common language for all. PRESIDENT How is that? Well, fine, I'll talk to you later. Show her in. (To the author, in panic) I'm nervous. I'm getting flustered. I don't know what to say to her. Please, if I seem to be floundering, prompt me. That shouldn't be too hard, should it? After all, it's you who wrote all this stuff. It's a pity, you're not one of my subjects. How is it you slipped through my fingers? Straud's mother enters and bows. Be seated. (Apart from the president's chair, there are no other chairs in the room.) I'm at your service. How can I help you? MOTHER My son . . . he's only nineteen. . . I've no one else in the whole wide world.. . I'm begging you, on my knees. . . He has been imprisoned for life. . . Due to your clemency. . .But he is innocent. . . He could not have been guilty. . . He was forced. . .It was self-defense. . . Your Excellency, I know that everything depends on you. . . Only your command can make me happy. . . In the waiting room I was trying to find the right words. . . But now I've forgotten them all. . . I can't remember a thing. . . But he is innocent. . . PRESIDENT Be seated, be seated. Why are you standing? MOTHER Thank you, Mr. President. (She grows even more flustered when she sees that there are no chairs in the room.) If you'd like to know the whole truth, I'm to blame too. I wasn't able to support him. From an early age he had to earn his own bread. All his life he's been a bum. He looked for work everywhere. If I could have kept him, this wouldn't have happened. (She weeps.) (The president looks helplessly at the prime-minister.) All my life I'll be grateful. I'll pray for you. I'll work for you, day and night, free of charge. However hard the work, I'll do it willingly. I've no other way of paying for it. . . PRESIDENT I remember my own mother. She was so pure, so naive. Evidently, all the mothers in the world are the same way. (Anxiously) What should we do, prime-minister? Actually, this is most fortunate. I should like to release this woman's son. PRIME-MINISTER It is impossible, Mr. President. He has committed a crime. An offender cannot escape punishment. If there is to be no deprivation of freedom, then there can be no freedom either. (The mother looks at them in alarm.) PRESIDENT You may be right. But now's not the time for that sort of thing. Summon the minister of justice. (The minister of justice enters without being summoned.) Listen, this woman's son killed a man, but I want to release him. What must I do? MINISTER OF JUSTICE Nothing, Mr. President. It's an infringement of the law. And if the law is infringed, then it will fall to my lot, as minister of justice, to bear the punishment which the freed man should have borne. In the present case, there are two possibilities - either imprisonment for life, or the gallows. MOTHER But he's only nineteen years old. . . MINISTER OF JUSTICE That's no argument, is it, madam? Don't you have a better one? PRESIDENT (Sincerely concerned) What can we do? Who passed this law? MINISTER OF JUSTICE You did, Mr. President. PRESIDENT I? Me again? You want to blame it all on me? Summon the minister of complicated situations. (The minister of complicated situations enters without being summoned.) This woman's son killed a man, but I want to release him. What must I do? Can we change the law? MINISTER OF COMPLICATED SITUATIONS It's not possible, Mr. President. The law can be changed on one condition only. Please excuse my boldness. . . if the president is replaced. PRESIDENT So then, you too want to blame it all on me? Have you been conferring together? MOTHER But he's my only son. . . MINISTER OF COMPLICATED SITUATIONS That's no argument, madam, is it? Don't you have a better one? PRESIDENT I don't get it at all! President for life of this country, and yet I do not have the right to do what I want? So what if it's wrong! So what if it's a whim! The one time in my life I've wanted to do something good. . . (Angrily) And if I'd wanted to do something bad, there'd have been no problem. How many rotten things have you and I done! And no one ever interfered. No one tried to stop me. Summon the minister of delicate situations. (The minister of delicate situations enters without being summoned.) This woman's son. . . Well, you know. What can be done? Without causing the minister of justice any harm, and without having to replace the president. MINISTER OF DELICATE SITUATIONS There's only one way, Mr. President. Since our country is divided into fifty states, we need change the law only in one state, that is where you, Mr. President, and the afore-mentioned prisoner, live. PRESIDENT Capital! Thank goodness! Here's one man at least who is prepared to meet me half way. I am most grateful to you. MINISTER OF DELICATE SITUATIONS It's my duty, Mr. President. That's what you pay me for. PRESIDENT You yourself will take care of this matter. (Mother looks joyfully at the president, kneels and embraces his legs.) PRESIDENT (Embarrassed, to the author) What should I do? Well, prompt me! (The author takes the mother by the arm and helps her to rise. The president gives a sigh of relief.) MINISTER OF DELICATE SITUATIONS But unfortunately, Mr. President, I do not have the authority to do this, even though I am moved by your confidence in me. The fact is that the proposal, which you set so much store by, cannot be carried out. RPESIDENT (Stunned) How is that? MINISTER OF DELICATE SITUATIONS Because in order to carry out, you would have to declare war on this state and subdue it. PRESIDENT War? MINISTER OF DELICATE SITUATIONS But I must make so bold as to assert that it cannot be done. And here's why. You cannot declare war on this state, because this state constitutes an integral part of the country of which you are president. It would mean waging war on yourself. RPESIDENT (Furious) But this is a real revolution. You're all against the president. For a long time I've known that you've been itching to settle scores with me. (Businesslike and stern) How many prisoners were pardoned in the last amnesty? PRIME-MINISTER Eighty-one, Mr. President. PRESIDENT (In his element as the true and omnipotent president) Sentence them all to life imprisonment. How many of those condemned to be hung had their sentences commuted to life? PRIME-MINISTER Eighteen, Mr. President. PRESIDENT Hang them all! PRIME-MINISTER, MINISTER OF JUSTICE, MINISTER OF COMPLICATED SITUATIONS, MINISTER OF DELICATE SITUATIONS (Standing to attention): Very good, Mr. President. PRESIDENT (Scornfully) You may go. MOTHER I'm to blame. If I'd been able to keep him. . . MINISTER OF DELICATE SITUATIONS But that's no argument, madam, is it? Don't you have a better one? (Exit all. Only the mother and president remain.) MOTHER May I see my son, Mr. President PRESIDENT (Gently as before) Next time, don't say it's your fault. If you insist on that, they might arrest you too. Only there's one other thing, don't tell anyone I warned you. MOTHER May I see my son? PRESIDENT I've just thought of something. But promise me you won't breathe a word. (Only now we notice that between the prison cell and the president's office there's a trap door. The president lifts it, lies down on the floor and looks through the opening.) (To the mother) What's his name? MOTHER Bob PRESIDENT (In a whisper, calls through the opening) Bob, Bob! (Straud jumps up and approaches the opening.) STRAUD What's going on? PRESIDENT Come here, bring the ladder over. (Straud brings the ladder, and places it against the opening. The president crooks a finger at the mother. The mother clambers down the ladder. Straud embraces this unexpected new arrival.) MOTHER You've got so thin, Bob? My god! STRAUD I thought I'd never see you again, ma. I can't believe my eyes. Why are you wearing black? MOTHER They didn't beat you, did they, Bob? STRAUD (Laughing) No, of course not, ma. MOTHER You're not going hungry, are you, Bob? STRAUD No, ma, why should I be going hungry? MOTHER Please, Bob, you must be respectful and obedient. Maybe they'll feel sorry for you. . . STRAUD Don't worry, ma. Tell me about yourself instead. How many years is it since we saw each other. . . How are you getting on now? Do your legs still ache, like they did? And how are your neighbours doing? Do you still play cards at their place, like before, ma? I suppose you're still losing too? MOTHER Bob,are you sure they're not beating you here? STRAUD No, ma, you never beat me either, did you? MOTHER There was that once, remember? STRAUD Yes, I didn't want to go to school. I said my finger was hurting. In the evening you bandaged the finger, and I went to school happy. But the next morning you asked me if the finger still hurt. I immediately grabbed the finger and started groaning. But you gave me a good hiding and packed me off to school. It turned out that night you'd bandaged my other finger. . . (They both laugh.) MOTHER (Suddenly growing serious) But how did this happen, Bob. STRAUD You mustn't, ma. Why do you need to know everything? What's the use? MOTHER Yes, yes, better not to. But the truth is, it's all because of a woman, isn't it? STRAUD (Avoiding a direct answer): Maybe. . . MOTHER (Uneasily) You're not going to marry her, are you, Bob? STRAUD No, ma. MOTHER Thank goodness. I feel a lot better. As if a ton had been lifted off my shoulders. We'll find a nice girl for you. PRESIDENT (Throughout this scene, he has been lying on the floor, watching.) It's time, madam, time. Someone might come in and see. MOTHER How soon our meeting is over! Bob, I didn't know I'd be here today and I've not brought anything with me. STRAUD I don't need anything, ma. MOTHER No, no, to come here and not be able to help you? (Feverishly she turns out her pockets, gathers up all the loose change and offers it to Bob.) STRAUD You shouldn't, ma. . . MOTHER I'll be offended, Bob, you can see I will. (She removes her warm socks and gives them to Bob.) Take them, take them. When it's cold, you can put them on. It's nothing to be asahmed of. No one will notice. (She removes her shawl and holds that out to Bob.) Take it, it'll stand you in good stead. (She gives him her gloves too, her handkerchief, hand-mirror, and comb. Straud doesn't have the heart to refuse her.) PRESIDENT Hurry up, madam. STRAUD Who is this man, ma? MOTHER (Whispering) Our president. STRAUD (Astonished) What president? MOTHER Ours, yours and mine. (Straud, taken aback, looks up, smiles at him.) PRESIDENT It is I, Bob, your president. Don't think too badly of me. I know it's my fault. But you're on my conscience. You see, I'm your father, her father, everybody's father. If your mother had been able to support you, if you'd not bummed around all your life. . ., if you add up all these "if s, the end result is they boomerang back on me. STRAUD (Willy-nilly standing to attention, lifting up his head) No, Mr. President, it's nothing to do with you. You're yourself and I'm myself. I was telling the truth: it's Bully who was the guilty one. PRESIDENT I am Bully. STRAUD You know him? PRESIDENT No, of course I don't. But it was I. Well, help your mother up. (Straud and his mother embrace. Covered in tears, barefoot, holding her slippers in her hands, she climbs forlornly but carefully up the ladder. Suddenly remembering something, she turns to her son.) MOTHER Bob, listen to me, leave your little birds alone, forget about them. It could make people angry. Be humble. (The president helps her up and closes the trap door. Craning his neck, Straud looks at the closed door.) STRAUD (Suddenly feeling lonely, shouts) Mother, don't leave me alone! Mama! (The cell is blacked out.) PRESIDENT (To mother) If it's any comfort to you, I can tell you that I'll take care of everything myself. I'll bear all the expenses. I'll hire the very best lawyers, invite them here from abroad. But of course, at first you'll spend all your money, you'll sell off everything, and when you haven't got a penny left, when you're complete destitute, then I'll help you. I know I don't have the right to deprive you of this maternal sacrifice. It would be tactless on my part. MOTHER Why did it turn out this way, Mr. President? Why weren't you able to do anything? (She sobs.) What sort of a president are you? PRESIDENT But that's where our strength lies. Our democracy. The age of tyrants is passed. Long since passed, madam. (Taking her by the arm, the president escorts her from his cabinet. A little later he returns. The president and Straud stand directly one above the other. They are both pensive.) STRAUD Mama, I'm afraid. Don't leave me alone. PRESIDENT So, I seem to have it right. If this illiterate prisoner gets involved in creative work, well, then he's free. If he's free, so he has to be eliminated. But if he can't be eliminated, and the world will soon know of his existence, then we ourselves will have to release him. (He spreads his hands helplessly) Yes, I did have it right. . . CURTAIN