KRAIG. Nothing! [_A pause, then bitterly._] Oh there's one joy down here. You can burrow and hide like a rat from it all. The damn carriages don't roll by before your eyes. The women don't!... Oh, those women, how I hate them. Their silks, their jewels, their soft white skins. Fed! Clothed! Housed!... [_Clenching his fists._] While Martha starves! Oh, God! They drive by laughing and I could choke them! Listen what happened. [_He comes closer to Caren and speaks fanatically._] Yesterday in the park I stood there ... shivering ... wondering! And all at once the mad hate came into my heart and I felt that I could kill. [_Caren looks alarmed._] And then.... Ha ... ha ... ha! Then.... The King.... The King drove by. [_Laughing bitterly, and with a great flourish._] And off came my hat! [_Making fun of himself._] My hat came off my head, Old Man, and I bowed and cringed [_vehemently_] WITH THE HATE IN MY HEART. I could have torn the warm furs from his throat and wrapped my fingers in their place [_his hands clench spasmodically_]. Ugh! CAREN [_thoroughly alarmed_]. Hush.... Hush! You mustn't talk so of our King. A nice young boy he is. KRAIG. Oh the hate ... the hate. Perhaps it will leave me here in this hall of the dead. [_Glancing about._] It all seems so level here. So level. CAREN [_with the first faint touch of sympathy_]. You're right. Here's the one spot on earth where you get fair play. That's what I like. There ain't no rich and there ain't no poor. And there ain't no class nor nothing. Every man gets a square deal here ... a square deal. KRAIG. Perhaps that's worth dying for--a square deal. CAREN. Dying ... bah! Wait until you've seen a few more of them slung on the slabs. You'll lose your longing for death. I'm an old man, but.... KRAIG. If only I can see more of it. If only I can bear it. CAREN. The pay's not bad? KRAIG. It would be bad at any price. CAREN [_shaking his finger childishly_]. Tut ... tut! We're fair here ... fair. There ain't no flowers ... he ... he ... he ... and there ain't no song [_he chuckles_], but.... KRAIG [_with intense passion, pacing to and fro, and never pausing, while he speaks very rapidly_]. If only the living could have what is spent on the dead. All the waste ... the hateful waste. Flowers wilting in dead hands. Stones weighing down dead hearts. While living bodies famish and living eyes burn for the sight of beauty. Oh, I wonder the dead don't scream out at our madness. I wonder the graves don't burst with the pain of it all. CAREN. Have they shut me up with a maniac? Have you gone stark out of your mind? [_There is a loud knocking on the door, to the right._] CAREN [_opens it a crack and peeps out cautiously_]. What do you want? VOICE. Let me in. CAREN. Get away. VOICE [_piteously, clamoring_]. Let me look once ... just once. CAREN [_harshly_]. Got a pass? VOICE. No ... no. Oh, let me in. CAREN [_bangs the door shut_]. Get away.