Lazarus -- Mary, his sister --
Martha, his sister -- The mother of Lazarus
Philip, a Disciple
The Madman
Scene:
The garden outside of the home of Lazarus and his mother and sisters in
Bethany
Time:
Late afternoon of Manday, 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.
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 seperation. 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 tnederness, 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 yeilded 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 inseperable 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
imprisioned 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 swollowed them? Was it the simoon 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 simoon 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)
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
seperated 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 rememberance 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 Labanon? 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 fulfill all that I am, and I to
fulfill 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
center 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 snd 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 shiverm 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 neighbors wanted a miracle. You and your neighbors, 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 heforgets
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 shepards 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 awefull 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.)
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)
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)
Lazurus, 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.