The Road to Damascus, a Trilogy Part 50

STRANGER. That's true, now you remind me. But can you explain it?

LADY. Explain it? You're always asking for explanations of the inexplicable. 'When I applied my heart to know wisdom... I beheld all the work of G.o.d, that a man cannot find out that is done under the sun.

Because, though a man labour to seek it out, yet he shall not find it; yea, further, though a wise man think to know it, yet shall he not be able to find it!'

STRANGER. Who says that?

LADY. The Prophet Ecclesiastes. (She takes a doll out of her pocket.) This is Mizzi's doll. You see she longs for her little mistress! How pale she's grown... and she seems to know where Mizzi is, for she's always gazing up to heaven, whichever way I hold her. Look! Her eyes follow the stars as the compa.s.s the pole. She is my compa.s.s and always shows me where heaven is. She should, of course, be dressed in black, because she's in mourning; but we're so poor.... Do you know why we never had money? Because G.o.d was angry with us for our sins. 'The righteous suffer no dearth.'

STRANGER. Where did you learn that?

LADY. In a book in which everything's written. Everything! (She wraps the doll up in her cloak.) See, she's beginning to get cold--that's because of the cloud up there....

STRANGER. How can you dare to wander up here in the mountains?

LADY. G.o.d is with me; so what have I to fear from human beings?

STRANGER. Aren't you tormented by those people at the pool?

LADY (turning towards them). I can't see them. I can't see anything horrible now.

STRANGER. Ingeborg! I have made you evil, yet you're on the way to make me good! It was my dream, you know, to seek redemption through a woman.

You don't believe it! But it's true. In the old days nothing was of value to me if I couldn't lay it at a woman's feet. Not as a tribute to an overbearing mistress,... but as a sacrifice to the beautiful and good. It was my pleasure to give; but she wanted to take and not receive: that's why she hated me! When I was helpless and thought the end was near, a desire grew in me to fall asleep on a mother's knee, on a tremendous breast where I could bury my tired head and drink in the tenderness I'd been deprived of.

LADY. You had no mother?

STRANGER. Hardly! And I've never felt any bond between myself and my father or my brothers and sisters.... Ingeborg, I was the son of a servant of whom it is written. 'Drive forth the handmaid with her son, for this son shall not inherit with the son of peace.'

LADY. Do you know why Ishmael was driven out? It says just before--that he was a scoffer. And then it goes on: 'He will be a wild man, his hand will be against every man, and every man's hand against him; and against all his brothers.'

STRANGER. Is that also written?

LADY. Oh yes, my child; it's all there!

STRANGER. All?

LADY. All. There you'll find answers to all your questions even the most inquisitive!

STRANGER. Call me your child, and then I'll love you.... And if I love anyone, I long to serve them, to obey them, to let myself be ill-treated, to suffer and to bear it.

LADY. You shouldn't love me, but your Creator.

STRANGER. He's unfriendly--like my father!

LADY. He is Love itself; and you are Hate.

STRANGER. You're his daughter; but I'm his cast-out son.

LADY (coaxingly). Quiet! Be still!

STRANGER. If you only knew what I've suffered this last week. I don't know where I am.

LADY. Where do you think?

STRANGER. There's a woman in that but who looks at me as if I'd come to rob her of her last mite. She says nothing--that's the trouble. But I think it's prayers she mutters, when she sees me.

LADY. What sort of prayers?

STRANGER. The sort one whispers behind the backs of those who have the evil eye or bring misfortune.

LADY. How strange! Don't you realise that one's sight can be blinded?

STRANGER. Yes, of course. But who can do it?

HOSTESS (coming across to their table). Well, look at that! I suppose she's your sister?

STRANGER. Yes. We can say so now.

HOSTESS (to the LADY). Fancy meeting someone I can speak to at last!

This gentleman's so silent, you see, that one feels at once one must respect him; particularly as he seems to have had trouble. But I can say this to his sister, and he shall hear it: that from the moment he entered the house I felt that I was blessed. I'd been dogged by misfortune; I'd no lodger, my only cow had died, my husband was in a home for drunkards and my children had nothing to eat. I prayed G.o.d to send me help from heaven, because I expected nothing more on earth. Then this gentleman came. And apart from giving me double what I asked, he brought me good luck--and my house was blessed. G.o.d bless you, good sir!

STRANGER (getting up excitedly). Silence, woman. That's blasphemy!

LADY. He won't believe. O G.o.d! He won't believe. Look at me!

STRANGER. When I look at you, I do believe. She's giving me her blessing! And I, who'm d.a.m.ned, have brought a blessing on her! How can I believe it? I, of all men! (He falls down by the table and weeps in his hands.)

LADY. He's weeping! Tears, rain from heaven, that can soften rocks, are falling on his stony heart.... He's weeping!

HOSTESS. He? Who has a heart of gold! Who's been so open handed and so good to my children!

LADY. You hear what she says!

HOSTESS. There's only one thing about him I don't understand; but I don't want to say anything unpleasant....

LADY. What is it?

HOSTESS. Only a trifle; and yet...

LADY. Well?

HOSTESS. He didn't like my dogs.

LADY. I can't blame him for not caring for an impure beast. I hate everything animal, in myself and others. I don't hate animals on that account, for I hate nothing that's created....

STRANGER. Thank you, Ingeborg!

LADY. You see! I've an eye for your merits, even though you don't believe it.... Here comes the Confessor.