[She goes on laughing. He slaps her face and at the same moment the men in the chorus tear off their gags and utter a great cry of joy. In his excitement DIEGO has crushed out his plague mark; he touches the place where it was, then gazes at it in amazement.]
THE SECRETARY: Splendid! Simply splendid!
DIEGO: What do you mean?
THE SECRETARY: You’re simply splendid when you are angry. I like you even better.
DIEGO: But—what’s happened?
THE SECRETARY: You can see for yourself. The mark is disappearing. Carry on; you’re going about it the right way.
DIEGO: Does that mean I am cured?
THE SECRETARY: Now I’m going to tell you a little secret. Their system is excellent, as you have observed; still there’s a defect in their machine.
DIEGO: I don’t follow.
THE SECRETARY: It has a weak point, darling. As far back as I can remember the machine has always shown a tendency to break down when a man conquers his fear and stands up to them. I won’t say it stops completely. But it creaks, and sometimes it actually begins to fold up.
[A short silence.]
DIEGO: Why do you tell me that?
THE SECRETARY: Oh, you know, even when one has to do what I do, one can’t help having a soft spot. And you’ve discovered mine.
DIEGO: Would you have spared me if I hadn’t struck you?
THE SECRETARY: No. I came here to finish you off according to the rules.
DIEGO: So I’m the stronger?
THE SECRETARY: Tell me, are you still afraid?
DIEGO: No.
THE SECRETARY: Then I can’t do anything to harm you. That, too, is down in the regulations. But I don’t mind telling you it’s the first time I’m glad about that loophole in our code.
[She moves slowly away. DIEGO runs his hand over his chest, glances at his hand again, then quickly swings round and gazes in the direction whence groans are coming. The scene that follows is in pantomime. He goes toward a man who is still gagged and lying on the ground, and undoes the gag. It is the FISHERMAN. The two men eye each other in silence for some moments.]
THE FISHERMAN [with an effort]: Good evening, brother. It’s quite a while since I spoke last. [DIEGO smiles toward him. The man glances up at the sky.] What’s happening?
[The sky has brightened. A light breeze has sprung up, a door is flapping, and some clothes are fluttering on a line. The populace gathers round the two men; they, too, have removed their gags and are gazing up at the sky.]
DIEGO: Yes. The wind is rising.…
CURTAIN
THIRD PART
The townsfolk of Cadiz are moving about in the public square, engaged in various tasks that DIEGO, standing at a slightly higher level, supervises. A brilliant lighting brings out the artificiality of the stage properties set up by the PLAGUE, and thus renders them less impressive.
DIEGO: Rub out the stars. [The stars are obliterated.] Open the windows. [Windows are opened.] Group the sick together. [The crowd obeys.] Make more space for them. Good. Now stop being frightened; that’s the one condition of deliverance. Let all of you who can, rise to their feet. Why are you cowering like that? Hold up your heads; the hour of pride has struck. Throw away your gags and proclaim with me that you have stopped being afraid. [Raising his arm.] O spirit of revolt, glory of the people, and vital protest against death, give these gagged men and women the power of your voice!
CHORUS: Brother, we hear you, and wretched as is the plight of men like us who live on bread and olives, by whom a mule is reckoned as a fortune, and who touch wine but twice a year, on wedding days and birthdays, we, abject as we are, can feel hope stirring in our hearts. But the old fear has not left them. Olives and bread give life a savor, and little though we have, we are afraid of losing it and our lives.
DIEGO: You will lose your bread and olives and your lives as well if you let things continue as they are. Even if all you want is to keep your daily bread, you must begin by fighting down your fear. Spirit of Spain, awake!
CHORUS: We are poor and ignorant. But we have been told that the plague follows the course of the seasons. It has its spring when it strikes root and buds, a summer when it bears its fruit. Perhaps when winter comes it dies. But tell us, brother, is winter here, has winter really set in? Is this breeze that has sprung up really blowing from the sea? Always we have paid for everything with a currency of toil and tears; must we now pay in the currency of blood?
CHORUS OF WOMEN: There they are again, the men, prating of the concerns of men! But we are here to remind you of moments that fall into your hands like sun-ripe fruit, of days fragrant with flowers and the black wool of ewes—the scents and sights of Spain. We are weak and you, with your big bones, can always master us. But, none the less, do not forget, in the dust and heat of your shadow-fights, our flowers of flesh.
DIEGO: It is the plague that is wearing us to the bone, parting lovers, withering the flowers of our days. And our first duty is to fight the plague.
CHORUS: Has winter really come? The oaks in our forests are still clad with tiny, gleaming acorns and wasps are buzzing round their trunks. No, winter has not yet begun.
DIEGO: The winter of your wrath—let that be your beginning.
CHORUS: Yes, but is hope waiting for us at the end of the road? Or must we die of despair upon the way?
DIEGO: Cease talking of despair! Despair is a gag. And today the thunder of hope and a lightning flash of happiness are shattering the silence of this beleaguered city. Stand up, I tell you, and act like men! Tear up your certificates, smash the windows of their offices, leave the ranks of fear, and shout your freedom to the four winds of heaven!
CHORUS: We are the dispossessed and hope is our only riches—how could we live without it? Yes, brother, we will fling away these gags. [A great shout of deliverance.] Ah, now the first rain is falling on the parched earth, sealing the cracks that the summer heat has made. Autumn is here with her mantle of green, and a cool wind is blowing from the sea. Hope buoys us up like a great wave. [DIEGO moves away. The PLAGUE, enters, on the same level as DIEGO, but from the opposite side, followed by NADA and the SECRETARY.]
THE SECRETARY: What’s all this commotion about? Will you be good enough to replace your gags—at once!
[Some of the crowd, in the center, put back their gags. But some men have followed DIEGO and are carrying out his instructions in an orderly manner.]
THE PLAGUE: They’re getting out of hand.
THE SECRETARY: As usual!
THE PLAGUE: Well, we must take severer measures.
THE SECRETARY: Yes, I suppose we must. [She opens her notebook and starts turning over the pages with a certain listlessness.]
NADA: Why, of course we must! We are on the right track, that’s sure. To abide by the regulations or not to abide by them—there you have all philosophy and ethics in a nutshell. But in my opinion, if Your Honor will permit me to express it, we don’t go far enough.
THE PLAGUE: You talk too much.
NADA: That’s because I’m bubbling over with enthusiasm, and while I’ve been with you I have learned quite a lot. Suppression—that’s always been my gospel. But until now I had no good arguments to back it up. Now I have the regulations on my side.
THE PLAGUE: But the regulations do not suppress everything. Watch your step, my man, you’re not in line.
NADA: Mind you, there were rules and regulations before you came on the scene. But no one had had the idea of an all-embracing regulation, a sum total of all accounts, with the human race put on the index, all life replaced by a table of contents, the universe put out of action, heaven and earth at last devalued and debunked.…
THE PLAGUE: Go back to your work, you drunken sot. And you, my dear, get busy.
THE SECRETARY: How shall we start?
THE PLAGUE: Oh, at random. That way it’s more impressive.
[The SECRETARY strikes out two names. Two thuds in quick succession; two men fall. The crowd surges back; the workers stop work and gaze at the dead men with dismay. Plague Guards rush up, replace the stars on the doors, close windows, pile the corpses up on the side.]
DIEGO [at the back of the stage; quietly]: Long live death! You no longer frighten us.
[The crowd surges forward. The men start work again. The Guards retreat. Same action as before, but in reverse. The wind whistles each time the crowd moves forward, and dies away when the Guards return.]
THE PLAGUE: Eliminate that man.
THE SECRETARY: Impossible.
THE PLAGUE: Why?
THE SECRETARY: He has ceased being afraid.
THE PLAGUE: You don’t say so! Does he know?
THE SECRETARY: He has suspicions.
[She strikes out some names. Dull thuds. The crowd surges back. Same action as
