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Strindberg, August, 1849-1912

"The Road to Damascus"

My heel of Achilles! I threw my last coin away. Can't we
speak of something else than money in this house?
MOTHER. Oh yes. But in this house we do our duty before we amuse
ourselves. So you came on foot because you had no money?
STRANGER (hesitating). Yes. ...
MOTHER (smiling). Probably nothing to eat?
STRANGER (hesitating). No. ...
MOTHER. You're a fine fellow!
STRANGER. In all my life I've never been in such a predicament.
MOTHER. I can believe it. It's almost a pity. I could laugh at the
figure you cut, if I didn't know it would make you weep, and others
with you. (Pause.) But now you've had your will, hold fast to the
woman who loves you; for if you leave her, you'll never smile
again, and soon forget what happiness was.
STRANGER. Is that a threat?
MOTHER. A warning. Go now, and have your supper.
STRANGER (pointing at the table for the poor). There?
MOTHER. A poor joke; which might become reality. I've seen such
things.
STRANGER. Soon I'll believe anything can happen--this is the worst
I've known.
MOTHER. Worse yet may come. Wait!
STRANGER (cast down). I'm prepared for anything.
(Exit. A moment later the OLD MAN comes in.)
OLD MAN. It was no angel after all.
MOTHER. No good angel, certainly.
OLD MAN. Really! (Pause.) You know how superstitious people here
are. As I went down to the river I heard this: a farmer said his
horse shied at 'him'; another that the dogs got so fierce he'd had
to tie them up.


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