Savva and the Life of Man Part 17

KING HEROD

What's the matter with yourself? Are you so full of booze that you can't wag your own tongue?

FAT MONK

You heretic! What a heretic! _(Both monks laugh)_

KING HEROD _(approaching)_

What gentleman?

FAT MONK

This one.

KING HEROD _(scrutinizing him)_

He doubts? Let him doubt. It's none of my business.

SAVVA

Oh!

KING HEROD

Why, what did you think?

FAT MONK

Sit down, please.

KING HEROD

Never mind. I'd rather stand.

FAT MONK _(to Savva, in a loud whisper)_

He is doing that to wear himself out. Until he has reduced himself to absolute faintness he'll neither sleep nor eat. _(Aloud)_ This gentleman is wondering at the kind of chains you have on your body.

KING HEROD

Chains? Just baby rattles. Put them on a horse and he too would carry them if he had the strength. I have a sad heart. _(Looks at Savva)_ You know, I killed my own son. Yes, I did. Have they been telling you about me, these chatterboxes?

SAVVA

They have.

KING HEROD

Can you understand it?

SAVVA

Why not? Yes, I can.

KING HEROD

You lie--you can't. No one can understand it. Go through the whole world, search round the whole globe, ask everybody--no one will be able to tell you, no one will understand. And if anyone says he does, take it from me that he lies, lies just as you do. Why, you can't even see your own nose properly, yet you have the brazenness to say you understand. Go. You are a foolish boy, that's what you are.

SAVVA

And you are wise?

KING HEROD

I am wise. My sorrow has made me so. It is a great sorrow. There is none greater on earth. I killed my son with my own hand. Not the hand you are looking at, but the one which isn't here.

SAVVA

Where is it?

KING HEROD

I burnt it. I held it in the stove and let it burn up to my elbow.

SAVVA

Did that relieve you?

KING HEROD

No. Fire cannot destroy my grief. It burns with a heat that is greater than fire.

SAVVA

Fire, brother, destroys everything.

KING HEROD

No, young man, fire is weak. Spit on it and it is quenched.

SAVVA

What fire? It is possible to kindle such a conflagration that an ocean of water will not quench it.

KING HEROD

No, boy. Every fire goes out when its time comes. My grief is great, so great that when I look around me I say to myself: Good heavens, what has become of everything else that's large and great? Where has it all gone to? The forest is small, the house is small, the mountain is small, the whole earth is small, a mere poppy seed. You have to walk cautiously and look out, lest you reach the end and drop off.