people imagine that a man suffers because out of the blue death snatches away the woman he loves. But his real suffering is less futile; it comes from the discovery that grief, too, cannot last. Even grief is vanity.

You see, I had no excuses, not the shadow of a real love, neither bitterness nor profound regret. Nothing to plead in my defense! But today—you see me still freer than I have been for years; freed as I am from memories and illusion. [He laughs bitterly.] I know now that nothing, nothing lasts. Think what that knowledge means! There have been just two or three of us in history who really achieved this freedom, this crazy happiness. Well, Cæsonia, you have seen out a most unusual drama. It’s time the curtain fell, for you.
[He stands behind her again, linking his forearm round CÆSONIA’S neck.]

CÆSONIA [terrified]: No, it’s impossible! How can you call it happiness, this terrifying freedom?

CALIGULA [gradually tightening his grip on CÆSONIA’S throat]: Happiness it is, Cæsonia; I know what I’m saying. But for this freedom I’d have been a contented man. Thanks to it, I have won the godlike enlightenment of the solitary. [His exaltation grows as little by little he strangles CÆSONIA, who puts up no resistance, but holds her hands half opened, like a suppliant’s, before her. Bending his head, he goes on speaking, into her ear] I live, I kill, I exercise the rapturous power of a destroyer, compared with which the power of a creator is merest child’s play. And this, this is happiness; this and nothing else—this intolerable release, devastating scorn, blood, hatred all around me; the glorious isolation of a man who all his life long nurses and gloats over the ineffable joy of the unpunished murderer; the ruthless logic that crushes out human lives [he laughs], that’s crushing yours out, Cæsonia, so as to perfect at last the utter loneliness that is my heart’s desire.

CÆSONIA [struggling feebly]: Oh, Caius …
CALIGULA [more and more excitedly]: No. No sentiment. I must have done with it, for the time is short. My time is very short, dear Cæsonia. [CÆSONIA is gasping, dying. CALIGULA drags her to the bed and lets her fall on it. He stares wildly at her; his voice grows harsh and grating.] You, too, were guilty. But killing is not the solution. [He spins round and gazes crazily at the mirror.] Caligula! You, too; you, too, are guilty. Then what of it—a little more, a little less? Yet who can condemn me in this world where there is no judge, where nobody is innocent? [He brings his eyes close to his reflected face. He sounds genuinely distressed] You see, my poor friend. Helicon has failed you. I won’t have the moon.

Never, never, never! But how bitter it is to know all, and to have to go through to the consummation! Listen! That was a sound of weapons. Innocence arming for the fray—and innocence will triumph. Why am I not in their place, among them? And I’m afraid. That’s cruelest of all, after despising others, to find oneself as cowardly as they. Still, no matter. Fear, too, has an end. Soon I shall attain that emptiness beyond all understanding, in which the heart has rest. [He steps back a few paces, then returns to the mirror. He seems calmer. When he speaks again his voice is steadier, less shrill.]

Yet, really, it’s quite simple. If I’d had the moon, if love were enough, all might have been different. But where could I quench this thirst? What human heart, what god, would have for me the depth of a great lake? [Kneeling, weeping] There’s nothing in this world, or in the other, made to my stature. And yet I know, and you, too, know [still weeping, he stretches out his arms toward the mirror] that all I need is for the impossible to be. The impossible! I’ve searched for it at the confines of the world, in the secret places of my heart. I’ve stretched out my hands [his voice rises to a scream]; see, I stretch out my hands, but it’s always you I find, you only, confronting me, and I’ve come to hate you. I have chosen a wrong path, a path that leads to nothing.

My freedom isn’t the right one.… Nothing, nothing yet. Oh, how oppressive is this darkness! Helicon has not come; we shall be forever guilty. The air tonight is heavy as the sum of human sorrows. [A clash of arms and whisperings are heard in the wings. CALIGULA rises, picks up a stool, and returns to the mirror, breathing heavily. He contemplates himself, makes a slight leap forward, and, watching the symmetrical movement of his reflected self, hurls the stool at it, screaming] To history, Caligula! Go down to history! [The mirror breaks and at the same moment armed conspirators rush in. CALIGULA swings round to face them with a mad laugh. SCIPIO and CHEREA, who are in front, fling themselves at him and stab his face with their daggers. CALIGULA’S laughter turns to gasps. All strike him, hurriedly, confusedly. In a last gasp, laughing and choking, CALIGULA shrieks] I’m still alive!

CURTAIN

The End