the stillness. I feel
that happiness if not part of my destiny.

LADY. But it's all over! My parents are resigned to what we've done. My
husband understands and has written a kind letter.

STRANGER. What does that matter? Fate spins the web; once more I
hear the mallet fall and the chairs being pushed back from the
table--judgment has been pronounced. Yet that must have happened before
I was born, because even in childhood I began to serve my sentence.
There's no moment in my life on which can look back with happiness.

LADY. Unfortunate man! Yet you've had everything you wished from life!

STRANGER. Everything. Unluckily I forgot to wish for money.

LADY. You're thinking of that again.

STRANGER. Are you surprised?

LADY. Quiet!

STRANGER. What is it you're always working at? You sit there like one of
the Fates and draw the threads through your fingers. But go on. The most
beautiful of sights is a woman bending over her work, or over her child.
What are you making?

LADY. Nothing. Crochet work.

STRANGER. It looks like a network of nerves and knots on which you've
fixed your thoughts. The brain must look like that--from within.

LADY. If only I thought of half the things you imagine.... But I think
of nothing.

STRANGER. Perhaps that's why I feel so contented when I'm with you. Why,
I find you so perfect that I can no longer imagine life without you! Now
the clouds have blown away. Now the sky is clear! The wind soft--feel
how it caresses us! This is Life! Yes, now I live. And I feel my spirit
growing, spreading, becoming tenuous, infinite. I am everywhere, in the
ocean which is my blood, in the rocks that are my bones, in the trees,
in the flowers; and my head reaches up to the heavens. I can survey the
whole universe. I _am_ the universe. And I feel the power of the Creator
within me, for I am He! I wish I could grasp the all in my hand and
refashion it into something more perfect, more lasting, more beautiful.
I want all creation and created beings to be happy, to be born without
pain, live without suffering, and die in quiet content. Eve! Die with me
now! This moment, for the next will bring sorrow again.

LADY. I'm not ready to die.

STRANGER. Why not?

LADY. I believe there are things I've not yet done. Perhaps I've not
suffered enough.

STRANGER. Is that the purpose of life?

LADY. It seems to be. (Pause.) Now I want to ask one thing of you.

STRANGER. Well?

LADY. Don't blaspheme agains