Savva and the Life of Man Part 68

Your son has fallen into a deep sleep. Don't wake him. It may bring on a turn for the better. You go to sleep too. When one has a chance to sleep one should grab it and not stay up talking.

WIFE

Thank you, doctor, it's been such a relief. Will you call to-morrow again?

DOCTOR

Yes, to-morrow and the day after to-morrow. Old woman, you go to bed too. It's late, it's time for all to go to bed. Is that the door to leave by? I often make mistakes.

_[He goes out. The Old Woman goes also. Man and his Wife are left alone._

MAN

Look, wife, I began to draw this while our son was still well. I stopped at this line and thought I'd rest and resume the work later.

See what a simple, placid line it is, yet horrible to look at. It may be the last line I shall have drawn in our boy's lifetime. What malicious ignorance there is graven in its simplicity and placidity.

WIFE

Don't get excited, my dear. Don't think those evil thoughts. I believe the doctor told the truth and our son will recover.

MAN

Aren't you excited too? Look at yourself in the mirror. You're as white as your hair, my old friend.

WIFE

Of course, I am a little excited, but I'm convinced there's no danger.

MAN

Now, as always, you encourage me and fool me so sincerely, so guilelessly. My poor squire, true guardian of my dulled sword, your knight is a poor, broken-down man. He cannot hold a weapon in his feeble hand. What do I see? Our son's toys. Who put them there?

WIFE

My dear, you put them there yourself long ago. Have you forgotten? You said you found it easier to work with the child's innocent toys beside you.

MAN

Yes, I had forgotten. But now it's terrible to look at them, as terrible as it is for a convict to look at instruments of torture. If the child dies, his toys will remain as a curse to the living. Wife, wife, the sight of them is terrible to me!

WIFE

It was when we were still poor that we bought them. How touching it is to look at them, those poor, dear toys!

MAN

I can't help it, I must take them in my hands. Here's the horse with the tail torn off. Hop, hop, horsie! Where are you galloping off to?

I'm going far, far away, papa, to where the fields are and the green woods. Take me along, horsie. Hop, hop, hop! Sit down, dear papa. And there's the soldier's cap, the cheap cap I tried on myself in fun when I bought it. Who are you? I'm a knight, papa. I'm the bravest, the strongest knight. Where are you going, my little knight? I'm going to kill the dragon, dear papa. I'm going to free the captives, papa. Go, go, my little knight. _(The Wife cries)_ And there's our everlasting clown, with his kind, stupid face. But how ragged he is, as if he had come out of a hundred frays. Tinkle, friend, the way you used to tinkle. What, you can't? Only one bell left, you say? Well, I'll throw you on the floor. _(Throws down the toy)_

WIFE

What are you doing? Remember how often our boy kissed his funny face.

MAN

Yes, that was wrong of me. Forgive me, friend, forgive me. _(He bends down with difficulty and picks up the clown)_ Still laughing? Don't.

I'll put you away, out of sight. Don't be angry, I can't bear your smile now. Go and laugh in a place where I can't see you.

WIFE

It breaks my heart to hear you speak like that. Believe me, our son will get well. It wouldn't be just if the young were to die before the old, would it?

MAN

Just? Where have you ever seen justice, wife?

WIFE

Please, dear husband, I beg you, kneel down beside me, and let us both pray to G.o.d.

MAN

It's hard for an old man to bend his old knees.

WIFE

Bend them. You should--you must.

MAN

He will not hear me, He whose ear I've never troubled with either praise or entreaty. You pray. You are the mother.

WIFE

You pray--you are the father. If a father is not to pray for his son, who is? To whom are you leaving him? Can one person tell the same things in the same way as the two of us together?

MAN

Very well. Maybe eternal justice will answer the prayers of an old man who bends his old knees.

_[Both go down on their knees, their faces turned to the corner where the Unknown stands motionless; their arms are folded over their b.r.e.a.s.t.s while they pray._

THE MOTHER'S PRAYER

G.o.d, I beg you, let my son live. I can understand only one thing, I can say only one thing, only one thing--G.o.d, let my son live. I have no other words, all is dark around me, everything is falling.

I understand nothing, and there's such a terror in my heart, O Lord, that I can say only this one thing--G.o.d, let my son live! Let him live! Forgive me for praying so poorly. But I cannot pray in any other way. You understand, O Lord, I can't. Look at me! Just look at me! Do you see? Do you see how my head shakes, do you see how my hands shake?

But what are my hands, O Lord! Have pity on him. He is so young--he has a birthmark on his right hand. Let him live, even if only a little while, a little while. He is so young, such a mere foolish child--he's still fond of sweets. I bought him grapes. Pity--have pity!