DIEGO: I am ready.
THE PLAGUE: There are the marks. They hurt. [DIEGO gazes horror-struck at the marks, which have reappeared on him.] Good. Suffer a little before dying. That, anyhow, I can insist on. When hatred flames up in me, the suffering of others is a healing dew. Groan a little; that does me good. And let me watch your suffering before I leave this city. [To the SECRETARY] Now then, my dear, get to work.
THE SECRETARY: Yes, I suppose I must.
THE PLAGUE: Tired already, is that it? [The SECRETARY nods, and as she does so her whole aspect changes and she becomes an old woman, with a death’s-head face.] I always knew your hatred did not strike deep enough. Whereas mine is insatiable; I must ever have new victims. Well, get things over quickly, and we’ll begin again elsewhere.
THE SECRETARY: You are right; I haven’t hatred to uphold me, because my duties do not call for it. But in a way it is your fault, too. When one has to drudge away at keeping up statistics, one loses the power of feeling emotion.
THE PLAGUE: Mere words! If you want something to uphold you, as you call it, you can find it [Points to DIEGO, who sinks onto his knees] in the pleasure of destruction. That, anyhow, falls within your duties.
THE SECRETARY: So be it, let’s destroy. But I must say it goes against the grain.
THE PLAGUE: What authority have you to question my orders?
THE SECRETARY: The authority of memory. For I have not forgotten what I was before you came. Then I was free, an ally of the accidental. No one hated me, I was the visitant who checks the march of time, shapes destinies, and stabilizes loves. I stood for the permanent. But you have made me the handmaid of logic, rules, and regulations. And I have lost the knack I had of sometimes being helpful.
THE PLAGUE: Who wants your help?
THE SECRETARY: Those who are not big enough to face a sea of troubles. Nearly everyone, that is to say. Quite often I could work in a sort of harmony with them; I existed, in my fashion. Today I do violence to them, and one and all they curse me with their last breath. Perhaps that’s why I like this man whom you are telling me to kill. He chose me freely, and, in his way, he pitied me. Yes, I like people who meet me halfway.
THE PLAGUE: You’d do better not to irritate me.… We have no need for pity.
THE SECRETARY: Who could need pity more than those who themselves have none? When I say I like this man, what I mean is really that I envy him. For, with conquerors like us, love takes the ugly form of envy. You know this well and you know, too, that for this reason we deserve a little pity.
THE PLAGUE: That’s enough! I order you to keep silent!
THE SECRETARY: You know it well and you know, too, that when one kills enough one comes to envy the innocence of those one kills. Oh, if only for a moment, let me call a halt to this ruthless logic, and let me fancy that at last I am leaning on a human body. I am so sick of shadows! And I envy all these wretched people—yes, even that girl [Points to VICTORIA] who when she returns to life will start howling like a wounded animal. But at least she will have her grief to lean on.
[DIEGO is collapsing. The PLAGUE helps him to his feet.]
THE PLAGUE: Stand up, man! The end cannot come until my charming companion takes the necessary steps. And, as you see, she is indulging in sentiment just now. But don’t be afraid, she will do her duty; it’s in the rules and she knows what is expected of her. The machine is creaking a bit, that’s all. But, before it folds completely, you shall have your wish, young fool; I give you back this city. [Shouts of joy from the CHORUS. The PLAGUE turns toward them.] Yes, I am going, but do not overdo your glee. I am pleased with myself, here, too, we have made a success of it. I like my name to live upon men’s lips, and I know you will not forget me. Look at me! Look for a last time at the only power in the world, acclaim your one true monarch, and learn to fear. [Laughs.] In the old days you professed to fear God and his caprices. But your God was an anarchist who played fast and loose with logic. He thought He could be both autocratic and kindhearted at the same time—but that was obviously wishful thinking, if I may put it so. I, anyhow, know better. I stand for power and power alone. Yes, I have chosen domination which, as you have learned, can be more formidable than Hell itself.
For thousands and thousands of years I have strewn your fields and cities with dead bodies. My victims have fertilized the sands of Libya and black Ethiopia, the soil of Persia still is fat with the sweat of my corpses. I filled Athens with the fires of purification, kindled on her beaches thousands of funeral pyres, and spread the seas of Greece so thick with ashes that their blue turned gray. The gods, yes, even the poor gods were revolted by my doings. Then, when the temples gave place to cathedrals, my black horsemen filled them with howling mobs. For years untold, on all five continents, I have been killing without respite and without compunction.
As systems go, mine was not a bad one. There was a sound idea behind it. Nevertheless, that idea was somewhat narrow. If you want to know the way I feel about it, I’ll say a dead man is refreshing enough, but he’s not remunerative. Not nearly so rewarding as a slave. So the great thing is to secure a majority of slaves by means of a minority of well-selected deaths. And, thanks to our improved technique, we now can bring this off. That’s why, after having killed or humiliated the requisite number of persons, we shall have whole nations on their knees. No form of beauty or grandeur will stand up to us, and we shall triumph over everything.…
THE SECRETARY: We shall triumph over everything——except pride.
THE PLAGUE: Who can tell? Men are not so unintelligent as you may think, and very likely pride itself will peter out. [Sounds of trumpet calls and people moving in the distance.] Listen! My star’s in the ascendant once again. Those are your former masters returning, and you will find them blind as ever to the wounds of others, sodden with inertia and forgetfulness of the lessons of the past. And when you see stupidity getting the upper hand again without a struggle, you will lose heart. Cruelty provokes, but stupidity disheartens. All honor, then, to the stupid, who prepare my ways! They are my hope and strength. Perhaps there will come a day when self-sacrifice will seem quite futile, and the never-ending clamor of your rebels will at last fall silent. Then I shall reign supreme, in the dead silence of men’s servitude. [Laughs.] It’s just a question of sticking to it, isn’t it? But, never fear, I have the low brow of the stubborn man. [Begins to move away.]
THE SECRETARY: I am older than you, and I know that their love, too, can be stubborn.
THE PLAGUE: Love? What’s that? [Exit.]
THE SECRETARY: Rise, woman. I’m tired, and I want to get it over.
[VICTORIA rises. But at the same moment DIEGO falls. The SECRETARY retreats a little, into a patch of shadow. VICTORIA runs toward DIEGO.]
VICTORIA: Oh, Diego, what have you done to our happiness?
DIEGO: Good-by, Victoria. I am glad it’s so.
VICTORIA: Don’t talk like that, my love! That’s one of those horrible things men say. [Weeping.] No one has the right to be glad to die.
DIEGO: But I am glad, Victoria. I did what I was called upon to do.
VICTORIA: No, you should have chosen me, though all the powers of heaven forbade you. You should have preferred me to the whole earth.
DIEGO: I have squared up accounts with death—there lies my strength. But it is an all-devouring strength; happiness has no place in it.
VICTORIA: What did your strength matter to me? It was you—the man you were—that I loved.
DIEGO: I have burned myself out in the struggle. I am no longer a man and it is right that I should die.
VICTORIA [flinging herself on him]: Then take me with you.
DIEGO: No this world needs you. It needs our women to teach it how to live. We men have never been capable of anything but dying.
VICTORIA: Ah. it was too simple, wasn’t it, to love each other in silence and to endure together whatever had to be endured? I preferred your fear, Diego.
DIEGO: [gazing at VICTORIA]: I loved you with my whole soul.
VICTORIA [passionately]: But that wasn’t enough! No, even that was not enough! You loved me with your soul, perhaps, but I wanted more than that, far more.
[The SECRETARY stretches her hand toward DIEGO. The death agony begins, while the women hasten toward VICTORIA and gather round her.]
CHORUS OF WOMEN: Our curse on him! Our curse on all who forsake our bodies! And pity on us, most of all, who are forsaken and must endure year after year this world which men in their pride are ever aspiring to transform! Surely, since everything may not be saved, we should learn at least
