Woman on Her Own, False Gods and The Red Robe: Three Plays By BrieuxBrieux, Eugène
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Woman on Her Own, False Gods and The Red Robe: Three Plays By Brieux
Brieux, Eugène
French drama
PAKH. All your knowledge, then, is but knowledge of how to destroy--My
son!--I pray you--my blood goes out with my life--I do not want to die!
I pray you--give me your hand. I seem to be sinking into night--hold me
back--you will not let me die--your father! I am your father. I gave you
life--hold me back--all grows dim around me--But at least do
something--speak--say the incantations--[_He raises himself_] No! No! I
refuse to die! I am not old. [_Strongly_] I will not! I will not! Do not
let go my hand! I would live, live--All my life, I have worked, I have
sorrowed, I have suffered--Satni--will you let me go before I share the
peace and happiness you promised--
SATNI. Oh! My father!
PAKH. You weep--I am lost, then--Yes--I have seen it in your eyes. And
the silence deepens around me. To die--to die--[_A long pause_] And
after? [_Pause_] And so this is a poor man's life! Work from childhood,
blows. Then work, always, without profit. Only for bread. And still
work. For others. Not one pleasure. We die. And 'tis finished! You came
back to teach me that--Work--blows--misery--the end. [_A silence_] What
did you come here to do? Is that your work? [_Strongly_] Satni, Satni!
Give me back my faith! I want it! Ah! Why were you born a destroyer? Is
that your truth? You are evil--you were able to prove that all was
false. Prove to me now that you lied! I demand it! Give me back my
faith, give me back the simple mind that will comfort me.
SATNI. Do not despair--
PAKH. I despair because the happy fields do not exist--
SATNI. Yes, father, yes, they exist--
PAKH. You lied, then!
SATNI. I lied.
PAKH. They exist--and if I die--
SATNI. If you die, you will go to Osiris, you will become Osiris.
PAKH. It is not true. 'Tis now you lie--There is no Osiris! There is no
Osiris! Nothing! there is nothing--but life. I curse you, you who taught
me that [_He almost falls from his litter, Satni reverently lifts him
up_] Ah! accursed! Accursed! I die in hate, in rage, in fear. Bad son!
Bad man! I curse you, come near. [_Seizing him by the throat_] Oh! If I
were strong enough!--I would my nails might pierce your throat--Ah! Ah!
accursed [_He lets him go_] All my life lost! All my suffering
useless!--Forever--Never! Never! shall I know--Pity! [_He holds out his
arms to Satni and falls dead_].
SATNI [_horror-stricken_] He is dead!--[_He lifts him reverently and
lays him on the litter_] Father! For me, too, at this moment there would
have been comfort in a lie--
_He weeps, kneeling by the body with his arms stretched over
it. Kirjipa appears at the door of the house. She comes
near, then standing upright cries out to the four points of
the horizon, tearing her hair._
KIRJIPA. The master is dead! The master is dead! The master is dead! The
master is dead!
_The five mourners appear outside, Delethi, Nazit, Hanou,
Zaya, and Nagaou._
KIRJIPA [_with cries that are calls_] The master is dead! The master is
dead!
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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