劇中人：
拉撒路
馬利亞，拉撒路的二姊
馬大，拉撒路的大姊
拉撒路的母親
腓力，一位耶穌的門徒
一個狂人
場景：
拉撒路和他的母親和姊姊們在伯大尼的家的宅院花園。
星期一的傍晚，拿撒勒人耶穌從墳墓裡復活後的第一天。
劇幕拉起時：馬利亞在右側，眺望著山丘。左側，馬大坐在靠近房子門邊的織布機。更左邊，狂人坐在屋角，背靠著房子的牆。
劇情：
馬利亞：(轉向馬大)妳不做點事，最近妳都不幹活啦!
馬大：妳才不管我幹不幹活，我閒著，讓妳想起了我們的老師所說的...。啊，我們敬愛的老師!
狂人：不再需要織布工的日子就要到來，沒有人需要穿衣服，我們在太陽下都要赤身露體。
(靜默了好一陣子，女人們看似沒聽到狂言狂語，她們都沒聽到他說的話。)
馬利亞：天色不早了。
馬大：是的，我知道，漸漸晚了。
(母親從房門出來，走了進來。)
母親：拉撒路回來沒有?
馬大：媽，他還沒回來。
(三個女人一起往山丘那兒望過去。)
狂人：他自己再也回不來了，你們最多或許可以看到一個一息尚存的軀體。
馬利亞：我覺得他像是還沒有從另一個世界回來。
母親：我們老師的去世深深的傷害了他，過去這幾天他幾乎什麼都不吃，而且我知道他晚上也不睡覺。當然都是為了我們好友的去世。
馬大：不，媽，不只是這樣；還有些我不明白的東西。
馬利亞：是的，我也感覺出來，還有些其他的東西。這幾天我都意識到了，但是無法解釋。他的雙眼塌陷，他看著我，好像透過我去看另一個人。他很柔順，但是他的柔順不是對著我們的。他不作聲，沉默到好像被死亡封住了他的雙唇。
(三個女人陷入了沉寂。)
狂人：每個人都透過別人去看其他的人。
母親：(打破沉默)他會回來的，這麼晚了，他已經獨自待在山丘的那邊好幾個小時了，他應該跟我們一起待在這裡。
馬利亞：媽，他有好久不跟我們一塊兒了。
馬大：沒有啦，他一直跟我們一起，只差這三天而已！
馬利亞：三天？三天！呀...馬大，妳說對了，才只有三天而已。
母親：我希望我的兒子會從山丘那兒回來。
馬大：他很快就會回來，媽，妳不用擔心。
馬利亞：(用奇怪的聲調)有時候我覺得他不會從山丘回來...
母親：假如他曾經從墳墓回來，他當然會從山丘回來。還有，女兒，想一想那位把他的生命帶回給我們的，在昨天才被殺害了。
馬利亞：啊!
整件事是不可思議，又悲痛呀！
母親：啊!
想一想他們怎能那麼殘酷的對待那一位把我的兒子帶回到我的心懷...
(一陣沉寂)
馬大：但是拉撒路不應該在山丘那兒待那麼久。
馬利亞：一個做白日夢的在橄欖樹林裡是很容易迷路的。我知道拉撒路喜歡坐在一個地方靜靜的冥思。呀，媽，在一個小溪旁，假如妳不知道那個地方，妳是找不到的。有一次他帶我去那兒，我們像小孩子般的坐在兩塊石頭上。那是個春天，我們的四周開滿了小花。在冬天時我們經常會提到那個地方，每次他提到那個地方時，他的眼睛就露出奇異的光芒。
狂人：是的，那奇異的光芒，被其他的光所投射出的光影...
馬利亞：而且...，媽，妳知道這些日子拉撒路雖然他是一直跟我們在一起，但是他都已經離開了我們。
母親：妳說了一大堆我聽不懂的東西。(停頓一下)我希望我的兒子會從山丘那兒回來。我希望他會回來！(停頓一下)現在我得進去了，小扁豆不能煮得太爛。
(母親從房門離開了)
馬大：馬利亞，我希望能全都了解妳所說的。當妳說這些東西時，好像是另一個人在說話。
馬利亞：(她的聲音有點奇怪)我知道，我的妹妹，我知道。每當我們說話時，都是有另一個人在說話。
(有一長時間的沉寂。馬利亞隨著她的思慮飄到了遙遠的地方；馬大半好奇的看著她。拉撒路進來了，從山丘那兒回來，背向左側。他在靠近屋子的杏樹下的草地躺下。)
馬利亞：(向著他跑過去)哦!拉撒路，你是疲憊不堪了，你不該走那麼遠。
拉撒路：(不經意的說著)走啊走啊!走不到哪裡去；找啊找啊!什麼也找不著。但是待在山裡還好些。
狂人：呀!終究是有比其他的山丘近了一點。
馬大：(沉寂了一會兒)但是你的身體虛弱，而且一整天不見人影，我們都很擔心。拉撒路，你的起死回生，使我們很高興；但是你的離家把我們的高興變成了焦慮。
拉撒路：(把頭轉向山的那一邊)我今天有離開妳們那麼久嗎？真奇怪，妳們會把待在山裡一陣子當成是分離，我真的待在山裡有那麼久嗎？
馬大：你離開了一整天。
拉撒路：想想看!
待在山裡一整天?
誰敢相信?
(一陣沉寂。母親從房門出來，走過來)
母親：兒子啊，我很高興你回來了；天色晚了，山裡也被霧氣籠罩著，我的兒子，我真替你擔心。
狂人：她們害怕那霧氣；那霧氣是她們的起始，也是她們的終了。
THE CAST
Lazarus
Mary, his sister
Martha, his sister
The mother of Lazarus
Philip, a disciple
A Madman
THE SCENE
The garden outside of the home of
Lazarus and his mother and sisters in Bethany.
Late afternoon of Monday, the day after
the resurrection of Jesus of Nazareth from the grave.
At curtain rise: Mary is at right
gazing up towards the hills. Martha is seated at her loom near the
house door, left. The Madman is seated around the corner of the
house, and against its wall, down left.
THE PLAY
Mary: (Turning to Martha) You do not work. You have not worked much
lately.
Martha: You are not thinking of my work. My idleness makes you think
of what our Master said. Oh, beloved Master!
The Madman: The day shall come when there will be no weaver, and no
one to wear the cloth. We shall all stand naked in the sun.
( There is a long silence. The women do not appear to have heard The
Madman speaking. They never hear him.)
Mary: It is getting late.
Martha: Yes, yes, I know. It is getting late.
(The mother enters, coming out from the house door.)
Mother: Has he not returned yet?
Martha: No, mother, he has not returned yet.
(The three women look towards the hills.)
The Madman: He himself will never return. All that you may see is a
breath struggling in a body.
Mary: It seems to me that he has not yet returned from the other
world.
Mother: The death of our Master has afflicted him deeply, and during
these last days he has hardly eaten a morsel, and I know at night
that he does not sleep. Surely it must have been the death of our
Friend.
Martha: No, mother. There is something else; something I do not
understand.
Mary: Yes, yes. There is something else. I know it, too. I have known
it all these days, yet I cannot explain it. His eyes are deeper. He
gazes at me as though he were seeing someone else through me. He is
tender but his tenderness is for someone not here. And he is silent,
silent as if the seal of death is yet upon his lips.
(A silence falls over the three women.)
The Madman: Everyone looks through everyone else to see someone else.
Mother: (Breaking the silence) Would that he’d return. Of late he
has spent too many hours among those hills alone. He should be here
with us.
Mary: Mother, he has not been with us for a long time.
Martha: Why, he has always been with us, only those three days!
Mary: Three days? Three days! Yes, Martha, you are right. It was only
three days.
Mother: I wish my son would return from the hills.
Martha: He will come soon, mother. You must not worry.
Mary: (in a strange voice) Sometimes I feel that he will never come
back from the hills.
Mother: If he came back from the grave, the surely he will come back
from the hills. And oh, my daughters, to think that the One who gave
us back his life was slain but yesterday.
Mary: Oh the mystery of it, and the pain of it.
Mother: Oh, to think that they could be so cruel to the One who gave
my son back to my heart.
(A silence)
Martha: But Lazarus should not stay so long among the hills.
Mary: It is easy for one in a dream to lose his way among the olive
groves. And I know a place where Lazarus loved to sit and dream and
be still. Oh, mother, it is beside a little stream. If you do not
know the place you could not find it. He took me there once, and we
sat on two stones, like children. It was spring, and little flowers
were growing beside us. We often spoke of that place during the
winter season. And each time that he spoke of that place a strange
light came into his eyes.
The Madman: Yes, that strange light, that shadow cast by the other
light.
Mary: And mother, you know that Lazarus has always been away from us,
though he was always with us.
Mother: You say so many things I cannot understand. (Pause) I wish my
son would come back from the hills. I wish he would come back!
(Pause) I must go in now. The lentils must not be overcooked.
(The mother exits through the door)
Martha: I wish I could understand all that you say, Mary. When you
speak it is as though someone else is speaking.
Mary: (Her voice a little strange) I know, my sister, I know.
Whenever we speak it is someone else who is speaking.
(There is a prolonged silence. Mary is faraway in her thoughts, and
Martha watches her half-curiously. Lazarus enters, coming from the
hills, back left. He throws himself upon the grass under the almond
trees near the house.)
Mary: (Running toward him) Oh Lazarus, you are tired and weary. You
should not have walked so far.
Lazarus: (Speaking absently) Walking, walking and going nowhere;
seeking and finding nothing. But it is better to be among the hills.
The Madman: Well, after all it is a cubit nearer to the other hills.
Martha: (After brief silence) But you are not well, and you leave us
all day long, and we are much concerned. What you came back, Lazarus,
you made us happy. But in leaving us alone here you turn our
happiness into anxiety.
Lazarus: (Turning his face toward the hills) Did I leave you long
this day? Strange that you should call a moment among the hills a
separation. Did I truly stay more that a moment among the hills?
Martha: You have been gone all day.
Lazarus: To think, to think! A whole day among the hills! Who would
believe it?
(A silence. The mother enters, coming out from the house door.)
Mother: Oh, my son, I am glad you have come back. It is late and the
mist is gathering upon the hills. I feared for you my son.
The Madman: They are afraid of the mist. And the mist is their
beginning and the mist is their end.
Lazarus: Yes, I have come back to you from the hills. The pity of it,
the pity of it all.
Mother: What is it Lazarus? What is the pity of it all?
Lazarus: Nothing, mother. Nothing.
Mother: You speak strangely. I do not understand you, Lazarus. You
have said little since your home-coming. But whatever you have said
has been strange to me.
Martha: Yes, strange.
(There is a pause.)
Mother: And now the mist is gathering here. Let us go into the house.
Come, my children.
(The mother, after kissing Lazarus with wistful tenderness, enters
the house.)
Martha: Yes, there is a chill in the air. I must take my loom and my
linen indoors.
Mary: (sitting down beside Lazarus on the grass under the almond
trees, and speaking to Martha) It is true the April evenings are not
good for either your loom or your linen. Would you want me to help
you take your loom indoors?
Martha: No, no. I can do it alone. I have always done it alone.
(Martha carries her loom into the house, then she returns for the
linen, taking that in also. A wind passes by, shaking the almond
tree, and a drift of petals falls over Mary and Lazarus.)
Lazarus: Even spring would comfort us, and even the trees would weep
for us. All there is on earth, if all there is on earth could know
our downfall and our grief, would pity us and weep for us.
Mary: But spring is with us, and though veiled with the veil of
sorrow, yet it is spring. Let us not speak of pity. Let us rather
accept both our spring and our sorrow with gratitude. And let us
wonder in sweet silence at Him who gave you life yet yielded His own
life. Let us not speak of pity, Lazarus.
Lazarus: Pity, pity that I should be torn away from a thousand
thousand years of heart’s desire, a thousand thousand years of
heart’s hunger. Pity that after a thousand thousand springs I am
turned to this winter.
Mary: What do you mean, my brother? Why do you speak of a thousand
thousand springs? You were but three days away from us. Three short
days. But our sorrow was indeed longer than three days.
Lazarus: Three days? Three centuries, three aeons! All of time! All
of time with the one my soul loved before time began.
The Madman: Yes, three days, three centuries, three aeons. Strange
they would always weigh and measure. It is always a sundial and a
pair of scales.
Mary: (In amazement) The one you soul loved before time began?
Lazarus, why do you say these things? It is but a dream you dreamed
in another garden. Now we are here in this garden, a stone’s throw
from Jerusalem. We are here. And you know well, my brother, that our
Master would have you be with us in this awakening to dream of life
and love; and He would have you an ardent disciple, a living witness
of His glory.
Lazarus: There is no dream here and there is no awakening. You and I
and this garden are but an illusion, a shadow of the real. The
awakening is there where I was with my beloved and the reality.
Mary: (Rising) Your beloved?
Lazarus: (Also rising) My beloved.
The Madman: Yes, yes. His beloved, the space virgin, the beloved of
everyman.
Mary: But where is your beloved? Who is your beloved?
Lazarus: My twin heart whom I sought here and did not find. Then
death, the angel with winged feet, came and led my longing to her
longing, and I lived with her in the very heart of God. And I became
nearer to her and she to me, and we were one. We were a sphere that
shines in the sun; and we were a song among the stars. All this,
Mary, all this and more, till a voice, a voice from the depths, the
voice of a world called me; and that which was inseparable was torn
asunder. And the thousand thousand years with my beloved in space
could not guard me from the power of that voice which called me back.
Mary: (Looking unto the sky) O blessed angels of our silent hours,
make me to understand this thing! I would not be an alien in this new
land discovered by death. Say more, my brother, go on. I believe in
my heart I can follow you.
The Madman: Follow him, if you can, little woman. Shall the turtle
follow the stag?
Lazarus: I was a stream and I sought the sea where my beloved dwells,
and when I reached the sea I was brought to the hills to run again
among the rocks. I was a song imprisoned in silence, longing for the
heart of my beloved, and when the winds of heaven released me and
uttered me in that green forest I was recaptured by a voice, and I
was turned again into silence. I was a root in the dark earth, and I
became a flower and then a fragrance in space rising to enfold my
beloved, and I was caught and gathered by hand, and I was made a root
again, a root in the dark earth.
The Madman: If you are a root you can always escape the tempests in
the branches. And it is good to be a running stream even after you
have reached the sea. Of course it is good for water to run upward.
Mary: (To herself) Oh strange, passing strange! (To Lazarus) But my
brother it is good to be a running stream, and it is not good to be a
song not yet sung, and it is good to be a root in the dark earth. The
Master knew all this and He called you back to us that we may know
there is no veil between life and death. Do you not see how one word
uttered in love may bring together elements scattered by an illusion
called death? Believe and have faith, for only in faith, which is our
deeper knowledge, can you find comfort.
Lazarus: Comfort! Comfort the treacherous, the deadly! Comfort that
cheats our senses and makes us slaves to the passing hour! I would
not have comfort. I would have passion! I would burn in the cool
space with my beloved. I would be in the boundless space with my
mate, my other self. O Mary, Mary, you were once my sister, and we
knew one another even when our nearest kin knew us not. Now listen to
me, listen to me with your heart.
Mary: I am listening, Lazarus.
The Madman: Let the whole world listen. The sky will now speak to the
earth, but the earth is deaf as you and I.
Lazarus: We were in space, my beloved and I, and we were all space.
We were in light and we were all light. And we roamed even like the
ancient spirit that moved upon the face of the waters; and it was
forever the first day. We were love itself that dwells in the heart
of the white silence. Then a voice like thunder, a voice like
countless spears piercing the ether, cried out saying, “Lazarus,
come forth!” And the voice echoed and re-echoed in space, and I,
even as a flood tide became an ebbing tide; a house divided, a
garment rent, a youth unspent, a tower that fell down, and out of its
broken stones a landmark was made. A voice cried “Lazarus, come
forth!” and I descended from the mansion of the sky to a tomb
within a tomb, this body in a sealed cave.
The Madman: Master of the caravan, where are your camels and where
are your men? Was it the hungry earth that swallowed them? Was it the
simoom that shrouded them with sand? No! Jesus of Nazareth raised His
hand, Jesus of Nazareth uttered a word; and tell me now, where are
your camels and where are your men, and where are your treasures? In
the trackless sand, in the trackless sand. But the moon will always
come again.
Mary: Oh, it is like a dream dreamt upon a mountaintop. I know, my
brother, I know the world you have visited, though I have never seen
it. Yet all that you say is passing strange. It is a tale told by
someone across a valley, and I can hardly hear it.
Lazarus: It is all so different across the valley. There is no weight
there and there is no measure. You are with your beloved.
(A silence)
Lazarus: O my beloved! O my beloved fragrance in space! Wings that
were spread for me! Tell me, tell me in the stillness of my heart, do
you seek me, and was it pain to you to be separated from me? Was I
also a fragrance and wings spread in space? And tell me now, my
beloved, was there a double cruelty, was there a brother of His in
another world who called you from life to death, and had you a mother
and sisters and friends who deemed it a miracle? Was there a double
cruelty performed in blessedness?
Mary: No, no, my brother. There is only one Jesus of one world. All
else is but a dream, even as your beloved.
Lazarus: (With great passion) No, no! If He is not a dream then He is
nothing. If He had not known what is beyond Jerusalem, then He is
nothing. If He did not know my beloved in space then He was not the
Master. O my friend Jesus, you once gave me a cup of wine across the
table, and you said, “Drink this in remembrance of me.” And you
dipped a morsel of bread in the oil, and you said, “Eat this, it is
my share of the loaf.” O my friend, you have put your arm on my
shoulder and called me “son.” My mother and my sisters have said
in their hearts, “He loves our Lazarus.” And I loved you. And
then you went away to build more towers in the sky, and I went to my
beloved. Tell me now, tell me, why did you bring me back? Did you not
know in your knowing heart that I was with my beloved? Did you not
meet her in you wandering above the summits of Lebanon? Surely you
saw her image in my eyes when I came and stood before you at the door
of the tomb. And have you not a beloved in the sun? And would you
have a greater one than yourself separate you from her? And after
separation what would you say? What shall I say to you now?
The Madman: He bade me also to come back but I did not obey, and now
they call me mad.
Mary: Lazarus, Have I a beloved in the sky? Has my longing created a
being beyond this world? And must I die to be with him? Oh, my
brother, tell me, have I a mate also? If this thing be so, how good
it is to live and die, and live and die again; if a beloved awaits
me, to fulfil all that I am, and I to fulfil all that he is!
The Madman: Everywoman has a beloved in the sky. The heart of
everywoman creates a being in space.
Mary: (Repeating softly as if to herself) Have I a beloved in the
sky?
Lazarus: I do not know. But if you had a beloved, an other self,
somewhere, somewhen, and you should meet him, surely there would not
be one to separate you from him.
The Madman: He may be here, and He may call her. But like many others
she may not hear.
Lazarus: (Coming to the centre of stage) To wait, to wait for each
season to overcome another season; and then to wait for that season
to be overcome by another; to watch all things ending before your own
end comes-your end which is your beginning. To listen to all voices,
and to know that they melt to silence, all save the voice of your
heart that would cry even in sleep.
The Madman: The children of God married the children of men. Then
they were divorced. Now, the children of men long for the children of
God. I pity them all, the children of men and the children of God.
(A silence)
Martha: (Appearing in the doorway) Why don’t you come into the
house, Lazarus? Our mother has prepared the supper. (With a little
impatience) Whenever you and Mary are together you talk and talk, and
no one knows what you say.
(Martha stands for a sew seconds, then goes into the house.)
Lazarus: (Speaking to himself, and as though he has not heard Martha)
Oh, I am spent. I am wasted, I am hungry and I am thirsty. Would that
you could give me some bread and some wine.
Mary: (Going to him and putting her arm around him) I will, I will,
my brother. But some into the house. Our mother has prepared the
evening meal.
The Madman: He asks for bread which they cannot bake, and wine for
which they have no bottles.
Lazarus: Did I say I was hungry and thirsty? I am not hungry for your
bread, nor thirsty for your wine. I tell you I shall not enter a
house until my beloved’s hand is upon the latch of the door. I
shall not sit at the feast till she be at my side.
(Mother peers from the house door.)
Mother: Now, Lazarus, why do you stay out in the mist? And you, Mary,
why do you not come into the house? I have lit the candles and the
food is upon the board, and yet you will stay out babbling and
chewing your words in the dark.
Lazarus: Mine own mother would have me enter a tomb. She would have
me eat and drink and she would even bid me sit among shrouded faces
and receive eternity from withered hands and draw life from clay
cups.
The Madman: White bird that flew southward where the sun loves all
things, what held you in mid-air, and who brought you back? It was
your friend, Jesus of Nazareth. He brought you back out of pity for
the wingless who would not be along. Oh, white bird, it is cold here,
and you shiver and the North wind laughs in your feathers.
Lazarus: You would be in a house and under a roof. You would be
within four walls, with a door and a window. You would be here, and
you are without vision. Your mind is here, and my spirit is there.
All of you is upon the earth; all of me is in space. You creep into
houses, and I flew beyond upon the mountaintop. You are all slaves,
the one to the other, and you worship but yourselves. You sleep and
you dream not; you wake but you walk not among the hills. And
yesterday I was weary of you and of lives, and I sought the other
world which you call death, and if I had died it was out of longing.
Now, I stand here at this moment, rebelling against that which you
call life.
Martha: (Who has come out of the house while Lazarus was speaking)
But the Master saw our sorrow and our pain, and He called you back to
us, and yet you rebel. Oh, what cloth, rebelling against its own
weaver! What a house rebelling against its own builder!
Mary: He knew our hearts and He was gracious unto us, and when He met
our mother and saw in her eyes a dead son, buried, then her sorrow
held Him, and for a moment He was still, and He was silent. (Pause)
Then we followed Him to your tomb.
Lazarus: Yes, it was my mother’s sorrow, and your sorrow. It was
pity, self-pity, that brought me back. How selfish is self-pity, and
how deep. I say that I rebel. I say that divinity itself should not
turn spring to winter. I had climbed the hills in longing, and your
sorrow brought me back to this valley. You wanted a son and a brother
to be with you through life. Your neighbours wanted a miracle. You
and your neighbours, like your fathers and your forefathers, would
have a miracle, that you may believe in the simplest things in life.
How cruel you are and how hard are your hearts, and how dark is the
night of your eyes. For that you bring down the prophets from their
glory to you joys, and then you kill the prophets.
Martha: (with reproof) You call our sorrow self-pity. What is your
wailing but self-pity? Be quiet, and accept the life the Master has
given you.
Lazarus: He did not give me life, He gave you my life. He took my
life from my own beloved, and gave it to you, a miracle to open your
eyes and your ears. He sacrificed me even as He sacrificed Himself.
(Speaking unto the sky) Father, forgive them. They know not what they
do.
Mary: (In awe) It was He who said those very words, hanging upon the
cross.
Lazarus: Yes, He said these words for me as for Himself, and for all
the unknown who understand and are not understood. Did He not say
these words when your tears begged Him for my life? It was your
desire and not His will that bade His spirit to stand at the sealed
door and urge eternity to yield me unto you. It was the ancient
longing for a son and a brother that brought me back.
Mother: (Approaches him and puts her arm around his shoulders)
Lazarus, you were ever an obedient son and a loving son. What has
happened to you? Be with us, and forget all that troubles you.
Lazarus: (Raising his hand) My mother and my brothers and my sisters
are those who hear my words.
Mary: These are also His words.
Lazarus: Yes, and He said these words for me as well as for Himself,
and for all those who have earth for mother, and sky for father, and
for all those who are born free of a people and a country and a race.
The Madman: Captain of my ship, the wind filled your sails, and you
dared the sea; and you sought the blessed isles. What other wind
changed your course, and why did you return to these shores? It was
Jesus of Nazareth who commanded the wind with a breath of His own
breath, and then filled the sail where it was empty, and emptied it
where it was full.
Lazarus: (Suddenly he forgets them all, and he raises his head, and
opens his arms.) O my beloved! There was dawn in your eyes, and in
that dawn there was the silent mystery of a deep night, and the
silent promise of a full day, and I was fulfilled, and I was whole. O
my beloved, this life, this veil, is between us now. Must I live this
death and die again that I may live again? Must needs linger until
all these green things turn yellow and then naked again, and yet
again? (Pause) Oh, I cannot curse Him. But why, of all men, why
should I return? Why should I of all shepherds be driven back into
the desert after the green pasture?
The Madman: If you were one of those who would curse, you would not
have died so young.
Lazarus: Jesus of Nazareth, tell me now, why did you do this to me?
Was it fair that I should be laid down, a humble lowly sorrowful
stone leading to the height of your glory? Any one of the dead might
have served to glorify you. Why have you separated this lover from
his beloved? Why did you call me to a world which you knew in your
heart you would leave? (Then crying with a great voice) Why – why –
why did you call me from the living heart of eternity to this living
death? O Jesus of Nazareth – I cannot curse you! I cannot curse
you. I would bless you. (Silence. Lazarus becomes as one whose
strength has gone out in a stream. His head falls forward almost upon
his breast. After a moment of awful silence, he raises his head
again, and with a transfigured face he cries in a deep and thrilling
voice.) Jesus of Narareth! My friend! We have both been crucified.
Forgive me! Forgive me. I bless you-now, and forevermore.
(At this moment the disciple appears running from the direction of
the hills.)
Mary: Philip!
Philip: He is risen! The Master is risen from the dead and now He is
gone to Galilee.
The Madman: He is risen, but He will be crucified again a thousand
times.
Mary: Philip, my friend, what do you say?
Martha: (Rushes toward the disciple, and grasps him by the arms) How
glad I am to see you again. But who has risen? Of whom are you
speaking?
Mother: (Walking toward him) Come in, my son. You shall have supper
with us tonight.
Philip: (Unmoved by any of their words) I say the Master has risen
from the dead and has gone into Galilee.
(A deep silence falls.)
Lazarus: Now you shall all listen to me. If He has risen from the
dead they will crucify Him again, but they shall not crucify Him
alone. Now I shall proclaim Him, and they shall crucify me also.
(He turns in exaltation and walk in the direction of the hills.)
Lazarus: My mother and my sisters, I shall follow Him who gave me
life until He gives me death. Yes, I too would be crucified, and that
crucifixion will end this crucifixion.
(A silence)
Lazarus: Now I shall seek His spirit, and I shall be released. And
though they bind me in iron chains I shall not be bound. And though a
thousand mothers and a thousand thousand sisters shall hold my
garments I shall not be held. I shall go with the East wind where the
East wind goes. And I shall seek my beloved in the sunset where all
our days find peace. And I shall seek my beloved in the night where
all the mornings sleep. And I shall be the one man among all men who
twice suffered life, and twice death, and twice knew eternity.
(Lazarus looks into the face of his mother, then into the faces of
his sisters, the at Philip’s face; then again at his mother’s
face. Then as if he were a sleepwalker he turns and runs toward the
hills. He disappears. They are all dazed and shaken.)
Mother: My son, my son, come back to me!
Mary: My brother, where are you going? Oh come, my brother, come back
to us.
Martha: (As if to herself) It is so dark I know that he will lose his
way.
Mother: (Almost screaming) Lazarus, my son!
(A silence)
Philip: He has gone where we all shall go. And he shall not return.
Mother: (Going to the very back of the stage, close to where he has
disappeared) Lazarus, Lazarus, my son! Come back to me! (She
shrieks.)
(There is a silence. The running steps of Lazarus are lost in the
distance.)
The Madman: Now he is gone, and he is beyond your reach. And now your
sorrow must seek another. (He pauses) Poor, poor Lazarus, the first
of the martyrs, and the greatest of them all.
Kahlil Gibran紀伯倫
1929
