The Slaves
Han Ryner
1925

A theater play

Characters
Eudox, the master.

Stalagmus, old slave.

Tyndare, old slave.

Geta, young slave.

Palinurus, slave.

Agnes, young Christian slave.

Sostrata, slave.

Other slaves of all ages and both sexes.

First scene

The Slaves. They stand in various poses, standing, lying on the ground, sitting on stepladders.

Tyndare. What had I done, I ask you, to deserve the whip?

Geta. Yesterday, I had done even less and I received more blows.

Stalagmus. - Oh ! you, it's too easy to understand.

Geta. Since you know everything, Stalagmus, even the future, explain to me this recent past.

Stalagmus. Nothing could be simpler. You're too handsome. She hates you because she loves you.

Palinurus. You talk crazy. Hate is the opposite of love.

Stalagmus. The shadow, contrary to light, is nevertheless the daughter of light.

Palinurus. What are you saying?

Stalagmus. Put a body in front of the light, you make shade. Put an obstacle in front of love, you make hate.

Palinurus (shrugging). You say empty words.

Geta. No. Stalagmus is right. I know that. I know that. I can see it. I can feel it. What is agitating in my heart tells me what is agitating in Emilia's heart.

Tyndare. Proud! You think you're loved by the one the master loves.

Géta (uncovering her torso). Is the master as beautiful as I am?

Tyndare. He is the master.

Geta. The master, you say?... Because of his ugliness, because of the weakness of his body and soul, is he not rather Emilia's slave? But it would take little for Emilia to become the slave of my strength and beauty.

Tyndare. Meanwhile, she makes you give the whip.

Geta. - Yes. But one day - tomorrow maybe! she will no longer resist his desire. Under my kiss, I will see her shake first as under the kiss of a god, then as under the kiss of death.

Tyndare. You speak too high... If there was among us an informer...

Various voices. There aren't any. Speak without fear.

Palinurus. We all hate Emilia.

Tyndare. You see that Géta is in love with her.

Stalagmus. One does not prevent the other.

Géta (repeating in a deep voice). One does not prevent the other.

Palinurus (interrogator). One doesn't prevent the other?

Stalagmus. Is there not love in the hatred of all the young men who are here? And, in the hatred of old men, there is admiration and regret. And, in the hatred of women, there is jealousy.

Sostrata. Yes, I hate Emilia and I'm jealous of Emilia. If Jupiter asked me, "Who do you want to be?" I'd say "Emilia!" For she is a goddess among us. Her smile is beautiful and frightening, like the dawn of a bad day. His hand, as delicate as that of a child and more terrible than that of a warrior, makes a thousand heads bow. It has the most intoxicating power, that which beauty gives.

Tyndare. I hate Emilia with all my lowliness as a slave and with all my helpless regrets as an old man. But, if it were given to me to become young, beautiful and rich for a day, I would offer Emilia my youth, my beauty, my wealth. I'd say, "Love me today and die tomorrow!"

Geta. I hate Emilia and I love Emilia so much. Yesterday, while she made me give the whip, her eyes were, on my beautiful and vigorous lines, two flames of desire. I remained motionless, without screaming, disdainful of beatings and suffering. I felt great and victorious. Even I was happy, because she hated the strength of my soul.

Tyndare. Your pride makes you delirious.

Geta. No. I read into his heart as if in an unwound book.

Tyndare (ironic). Recite what you were reading.

Geta. This one," she thought, "is perhaps insensitive to both pleasure and pain. The day when I no longer contain the impulse that carries me towards him, he will repel my kiss and he will tell my master my betrayal. Now the master has ears only for my words and the wicked slave will be put on the cross. But he will have deprived me, alas! of her strength and beauty."

Stalagmus. You say true words. So Emilia thought.

Geta. She was irritated in her heart, sometimes biting her lips, sometimes shouting. And his cries accused the lorarius of laziness.

Tyndare (laughing). So you owe him gratitude for every lash. You carry on your back signs of love of which you can be proud.

Geta. Proud and ashamed. The hour will come when I will return to him his hatred and his love, the voluptuousness of my glory and my degradation.

Sostrata. By what means?

Geta. My impatience is a tiger waiting. Maybe tomorrow Emilia will say, "Love me!" Because she's the most beautiful woman, ah! the way I'd like it. But, because she made me whip, when her eyes will be, on the laughter of her mouth, two more laughter, with what joy will strangle her.

Sostrata. So you want to hang, painful fruit, from the infamous tree of the cross?

Geta. What do I care? I will have tasted, in one hour too full, all happiness. The one I hate and love, the one that is all my torn thinking and all my multiple life, will be descended to the kingdom of Pluto. I will join her, drunk with pleasure as the most shaky of men, drunk with vengeance as the most implacable of gods.

Stalagmus (remained pensive for a few moments). What makes me angry since I am a man and what makes me, since I dare think, my shame, is not that I am a slave, it is that there are slaves.

Sostrata. Yet, when the master is good...

Stalagmus. Good or bad, by that alone that he is the master, he deserves death.

Sostrata. No. If Eudoxus escaped Emilia's empire; if, as before, he treated us gently...

Geta. I would hate him no less, since I would remain his slave.

Stalagmus. I would hate myself if I were a master.

Tyndare. Madness!

Stalagmus. Would the injustice be less if I became the master and Eudoxe one of your companions?

Tyndare. I would like to be the master.

Palinurus. Me too.

Sostrata. - And me!!

Geta (low to Stalagmus). They are well disposed. And I know others. If you want, we can organize a servile war.

Stalagmus (in an almost low voice). - Why do?... You don't! Can't you hear me?... Everyone only dreams of being the master. What's the point of putting up what's down, down what's up?

Agnes (who is near them and who has heard everything). The beautiful shall be humbled, the humble shall be exalted. But war will not do these things.

Stalagmus (hard and contemptuous). Shut up, Christian.

All of them. We are unhappy... We are unhappy.

Half choir. No hope for us.

Half choir. Hopefully for our children.

All of them. Stalagmus, give us, give us hope.

Half choir. At least for our children, give us, give us hope.

Sostrata. You who know the future...

All of them. You who know the future...

Sostrata. Tell us the future and its light.

All of them. Tell us the future and its light.

Stalagmus (the distant look). I don't see any light that lasts.

Geta. Other days, you told us expectations.

Stalagmus. I didn't see as far as I do today.

All of them. What do you see? What do you see?

Stalagmus. No, no, I don't want to see. (Closing my eyes and making both hands the gesture that grows back.) I want to escape the horror of seeing.

All of them. Yes, look. Speak.

Stalagmus (eyes closed). Alas! Alas! despite my closed eyelids, the vision pursues me.

Sostrata. Speak, you to whom a god has given to see.

Stalagmus. Wicked God! Cruel God!

Sostrata. Just yesterday, you comforted us.

Stalagmus. Yesterday I was in the midst of you as a still sight among the blind.

Tyndare. What do these words mean?

Stalagmus. I saw the sky leaning on the mountain. That's why I said, "Let's walk to the mountains and to the sky."

All of them. - Oh ! say it again.

Stalagmus. Alas! I walked. My thought went to the top. The sky wasn't there.

Geta. - I know. The horizon and hope recede as we move forward.

Agnes. Listen to the Christians. Come with us. We know the path where the sky no longer retreats.

Sostrata. Speak, O Christian!

Several. Speak, speak, O Christian!

Agnes. Men are brothers. God - but he is not called Jupiter - is the father of all. He also loves his sons and wants them equal. He does not want masters and slaves among us.

Tyndare. Then why is there one?

Agnes. Because we do not love God; because we do not love one another.

Geta. But since love is a golden vessel where the snakes of hatred whistle?...

Agnes. Not the love of Christians. And our God will give infinite and eternal joy to those who suffer and believe in Him.

Several. Speak, speak, Agnes.

Agnes (more ecstatically). But he will deliver up to eternal and infinite tortures the wicked and all those who enjoy in this world.

Geta. You see well that there is hatred in your love.

Tyndare. The powerful and the happy are the favourites of the gods. Where else would their power and happiness come from? And this Christian says the most absurd of follies.

Agnes. I say wisdom. Jesus of Nazareth came to save the little ones. His kingdom was not of this world. Woe to those whose kingdom is of this world.

Stalagmus (in a hard voice). Every kingdom is of this world.

Agnes (at Stalagmus). You are good to all others as if you were a Christian. But, with me, for some time, you've been mean. Why? Why?

Stalagmus. Because your belly is full. Because you carry within you a whole future of slavery. Believe me. As soon as the child appears in the light, strangle him with piously maternal hands. Thus your love will spare him, and many others, all those who would flow from him, the pains and shame of servile life.

Agnes. My child will not be a slave.

Sostrata. - Why?

Agnes. The sunset is always black with night, clouds and evil gods. But the dawn is already whitening the purity of the East. The Good News of Jesus of Nazareth is a light that rises and widens. Soon the sun will shine for all. Soon the world will be Christian.

Palinurus. Never.

Stalagmus (the distant look). What the Christian says, touching the future, is true. I can see it.

Agnes (happy). Then you see happiness flood the earth as light floods us in the middle of the day.

Stalagmus. - Wait. Favor me with your silence. Let the mist from afar slowly disperse under my moved will. Leave it. I'm starting to distinguish your son's life.

Agnes. She's happy, I'm sure.

Stalagmus. It is such as ours. Alone, his death is a joyful deception.

Agnes. How does he die?

Stalagmus. He dies on a cross, like your God.

Agnes (in ecstasy). Like my God!

Stalagmus. He speaks in exaltation of I do not know what intoxication. I hear some of his insane words: "My death makes my salvation! My death helps save the world!"

Agnes. O my son, O glorious martyr, happy are the flanks that bear you. You will advance Christ's triumph by one hour. You will advance your brothers' liberation by one hour.

Stalagmus. Silence... I see more distant times... Strangeness and wonders! Events as crazy as men! A cross made of light walks in heaven before the army of one Caesar who will fight another Caesar.

Tyndare. What does he say?

Stalagmus. He who follows the cross is victorious by the shameful sign, and behold, Caesar becomes a Christian.

Agnes. Glory be to God! A Christian Caesar! Glory be to God! There are no more slaves!

Stalagmus. I always see heads bending under hands that command and threaten.

Agnes. You do not give the Christian Caesar time to act. Look a little further. He will certainly free his brothers.

Stalagmus. The Christian Caesar sets no one free. The children of your son's grandchildren remain slaves. Sostrata. Christians often speak against murder and war. The Christian Caesar, at least, will stop the war.

Agnes. In the Christian world, there will be no more soldiers. No man shall draw the sword, neither shall any man perish by the sword.

Stalagmus. The Christian Caesar is a great and cruel warrior.

Agnes. If you're telling the truth, you're telling a man's crimes. But after him, my brothers, I am too sure, will abolish war and slavery.

Stalagmus. After him, I see the Christians killing each other.

Sostrata. Yet they love each other.

Stalagmus. Christians loved each other so much that they were weak and persecuted. As soon as they become masters, they tear each other apart because of their Jesus.

Agnes. You're lying. Jesus is the source of love and peace.

Stalagmus. Jesus has long been a source of love and peace. But I see little by little the agitation of the men disturbing the clear fountain. Now they have made it a source of hatred. Some say the Galilean almost as god as God. The others proclaim him as god as God. Quarrels of obscure words that clash like bats in the darkness. Stick blows. Then long and wide wars.

Tyndare. Look as far as you want. There will always be wars and there will always be slaves.

Stalagmus (with the gesture that imposes silence). I see a strange temple. A mad architecture erects high ruinous vaults. Yet no, they do not fall. A sort of sumptuous tank rises higher than the heads of the people who are there. A priest is inside, standing and talking.

Agnes. A Christian priest?

Stalagmus. A Christian priest.

Agnes. What does he say? Oh! try to hear it.

Stalagmus. Wait... wait... Through the centuries, some of his words, it seems to me, reach me deafened." My brothers," he said, "we celebrate today, in Jesus' resurrection, the resurrection of humanity. Thanks to our gentle master, there are no more slaves."

Agnes. Glory to God in the heights of heaven.

Stalagmus. This is far... far, far away. Yet, in the listening assembly, I see some remote descendants of the Christian.

Agnes. They are happy among their brothers. They are the equals of their brothers.

Stalagmus. They go shivering under rags. But some of their brothers bend under clothes made heavy by gold and gems. They are thin, tanned, trembling from hunger as much as from cold. But many of their brothers are sick of overeating.

Agnes. You don't say a Christian world.

Stalagmus. I say a world that proclaims itself Christian.

Agnes. Then my sons live freely.

Stalagmus. Your sons are submitted to the college of priests whose chief speaks in the tank too high.

Agnes. You're lying. Christian priests are liberators. How would they get slaves?

Stalagmus. The chief priest said: "You are not our slaves, for we have destroyed slavery. You belong - like trees that it would be criminal to pluck - to the land that belongs to us."

Tyndare. The infamous sophist!

Stalagmus. Listen, oh woman... I see a dungeon... Wait... My eyes have trouble penetrating its darkness that star a wax in the floating light. One of your remote sons is lying there and inclined priests interrogate him while he is being tortured.

Agnes (quivering). What abominable crime did he commit so that even the priests, these merciful ones?...

Stalagmus. He refused to kneel before a criminal and powerful priest at the moment when this priest raised his hand, in the gesture that means: "Kneel down".

Sostrata. Look further. Freedom and happiness are, without doubt, further away.

Stalagmus. Further... Beyond a few centuries... (Pointing Agnes with a scornful finger.) The sons of this belly are artisans... What a strange chaos, the world where they suffer. On a forum, a man speaks. He shouts: "Commemorate, citizens, the great and decisive victory since which there are no more slaves of noble men, since which there are no more slaves of priests. The people, a hundred years ago, delivered themselves!"

Sostrata. 0 joy!... Say, say this happy time.

All of them. Say this happy time.

Stalagmus. - Crazy time! My eyes see. My ears can hear. My mind refuses to believe. How can you admit such insanity in men? And this madness of unknown machines similar, as for their gigantic forms, as for the squeaky and panting awkwardness of slow movements, to I don't know which monstrous beasts !...

Palinurus. What does he say?

All of them. Let's listen. Let's listen.

Stalagmus. Craftsmen no longer work at home or in ordinary houses. They assemble in large numbers in the stables of these enormous, almost living tools, which move almost alone. Around the fantastic machines, the workers anxiously watch out for the minute when it is necessary to touch them to settle the tasks. Sometimes, from an underhand revolt, the tool grabs the worker, drags him, kills him. Large metal beasts are very expensive. No craftsman could buy them.

Palinurus. - Impossible nightmare!

Stalagmus. The master of the tools makes the workers work, and he does not feed them. He gives them some money so they don't die altogether.

Sostrata. And, no doubt, the soldiers bring them back by force, when they run away from the evil master?

Stalagmus. Agnes, I hear the master talking to one of your sons, to an old man." Go away, he said, go away." But the worker threw himself on his knees: "So you want me to starve? Have mercy, if not on me, at least on my wife and children."

Sostrata. What does the tool master say?

Stalagmus. The master of the tools pushes away the old man, who goes away desperate. I hear Agnes' son. He murmurs among sobs: "The masters of old fed their slaves!" And tears cover his cheeks because he thinks our fate is worthy of envy.

Agnes. His brethren love him not, therefore help him not?

Stalagmus. I see him reaching out to passers-by and crying for an obole. He's talking to a priest.

Agnes. - 0 joy! He's saved!

Stalagmus. The priest he is addressing calls a lictor who takes your son to prison.

Agnes. How would I believe you? You invent impossible times. We will never put an unhappy man in prison because he invokes the pity of his brothers.

Sostrata (in Stalagmus). Look beyond this horrible world. It is a necessity that light finally succeeds the night. Look until you see the dawn of freedom.

Stalagmus. Several times I thought I saw the dawn. Always its gleams were more bloody than a twilight on a sea waiting for the storm. And they went out quickly... Here comes blood again... oh! and cries of pain, and cries of rage, and cries of triumph, and cries of joy, and loud cheers: "We are free! We are free... "Run fast, river of blood; and you, dark fog that raises you in its path, scatter. My eyes want to see if, behind you, the earth, finally, will be fruitful.

Long silence.

Stalagmus falls on a stepladder and dips his head into his hands. Sobs are shaking him.

Sostrata. Are you crying?

Palinurus. What could you see that was more awful?

All of them. What did you see? What did you see?

Stalagmus (standing up). Alas! alas! A thousand times, alas! We say again - how long will this lie last? that now all men are free. But the sons of your belly, O woman, are still slaves. And here is how they crush the new chaos and here is what heavier metal their chains are made of...

Scene II

The Slaves, Eudoxus

Just as Stalagmus was saying: "Alas! alas! ", Eudoxus came in. He signaled the other slaves not to stir and to remain silent.

Eudoxus puts his hand on Stalagmus' shoulder. All slaves rise as a sign of respect.

Stalagmus turns around, sees the young face soft and devious. An implacable hatred shines in the old slave's eyes.

Eudox. Calm down, good old man, and pity no one's fate. Or, if you prefer, pity the fate of all mortals. All are slaves.

Sostrata. The masters...

Eudox. There are only masters the gods, if there are gods... Alone, they are freed from true and deep servitudes: sickness, death, fear. Remember, Sostrata. Last night I thought I was sick. The darkness terrified me. It seemed to me I was going to die. I called, I shouted, "Torches! we bring torches!" You have come in great numbers, lights in your hands. But I was afraid of the glimmers that advance and the shadows that retreat, I was afraid of the wide floating of the shadows and the worried quivering of the glimmers. I am a slave to fear. I am a slave to disease. I am a slave, alas! of implacable death.

Stalagmus. You are only a slave to your cowardice.

Eudox (pretending not to hear). Emilia steals the good I care about above all others. Not only to free men, but also, no doubt, to some of you, she gives a share of those kisses that she all owes me. Poor Cupid's slave, I need his dirty kiss more and more servilely.

Agnes (taking a step towards Eudoxe). Believe in Jesus of Nazareth. Believe in the Liberator who breaks all chains. It calms passions, it heals fevers, it dissipates terror and darkness, it breaks the sting of death.

Eudox. I studied the doctrine of Jesus of Nazareth. Because I'm curious about doctrines. But my boredom, which thirsts for all initiations, is not satisfied with any.

Agnes. The doctrine of Jesus of Nazareth does not resemble other doctrines. It is the source of living water...

Eudox (shrugging). Your Jesus of Nazareth was more a slave of Cupid than I was.

Agnes. Madness and blasphemy!

Eudox. He loved all men - what absurd love without beauty! until they die for them. At least that's what your brothers say.

Agnes. It's the truth... So understand...

Eudox. And those who confess the Galilean die to glorify him. I certainly wouldn't die for Emilia's glory. I'm less of a slave than a Christian.

Agnes. Where else can we find freedom but in the nobility of love?

Eudox (at Stalagmus). You, console yourself, if you do not escape a yoke that weighs on all men.

Stalagmus. There are slaves I pity. But you are the voluntary slave I despise. Compared to you, ah! how free I feel.

Eudox (smiling). Poor mind without balance and going from one extreme to the other! As soon as the benevolent master admits to being your equal, you claim to be superior to him!

Stalagmus. Emilia is indifferent to me.

Eudox. I think so! At your age...!

Stalagmus. I fear neither suffering nor death. From the top of my courage, I despise Eudoxe, slave of the lowest passions, slave of fear and death.

Eudox. My goodness is vast. Yet you just crossed its borders. (To Palinurus.) Get the lorarius: the whip will lower this insolent man's superb.

Palinurus steps towards the door. Geta's holding him by the arm.

Geta. Would you be coward enough?...

Palinurus. I like the lashes on his back better than mine.

Geta. Try to escape me and my fist will knock you out.

Stalagmus (in Eudoxe). How would lashes prevent me from despising and hating you? But, among these, many only understand the material facts. The spectacle would be ugly to their poor eyes, degrading to their hearts like yours. These blows would not diminish my inner freedom. Out of a few blind people who think they can see, they would weigh down chains that are already too heavy. I do not have the naivety to teach the vulgar - masters or slaves - the immobile nobilities who train an Olympus in my soul. Here, perhaps, is a lesson they can learn.

Suddenly, Stalagmus grabs Eudoxus by the neck and strangles him. Géta, Palinurus, that Géta always holds by the arm, and Agnès look with various expressions. The other slaves run away through all the doors.

Scene III

Stalagmus, Géta, Palinurus, Agnès, dead Eudoxe

Stalagmus, who bent down to follow Eudoxus's body as it fell, stands up, wiping his forehead.

Agnes. It says: "Thou shalt not kill!"

Stalagmus. The master steals from the slave, which alone gives life value. Even killed, the master remains the real murderer. My revolt is the daughter of my servitude and Eudoxe's death is the work of Eudoxe.

Agnes. Repentance washes away crimes. Repent.

Stalagmus. The Master always remains the aggressor. No matter how badly he returns it, the slave is always too lenient a judge. All crimes of tyranny or servitude are the work of the master, and the slave can never be criminal against him.

Agnes. You don't want to repent!

Stalagmus. When I repent, can I give life back to the one who died?... (He stares at Agnes.) And do you repent?

Agnes. - Of what? My hands are pure.

Stalagmus. Repent, O woman. Crush the seed that you carry within you and from where, if you do not oppose it, so many generations of cowardly or murderous slaves will come out. Destroy in one fell swoop the horrible lives I saw earlier.

Agnes (running away, hands on her belly). 0 criminal, oh crime counselor!

Stalagmus (holding her back). Do you know if it was not your future sons and their aches and resentments who, a moment ago, lived in me, shook my avenging hands around the miserable neck?

He's letting her go. She's running like crazy. Palinurus, whom Géta no longer holds back, flees through another door.

Scene IV

Stalagmus, Géta

Stalagmus sat down, head down. He seems to be in deep reflection. Geta looks at him.

Stalagmus. I don't know... Did I obey anger?... Did I obey justice?... Does my gesture express the superficial feeling of a minute or the deep thought of always?

Geta. What are you worried about? Anyway, your gesture is beautiful, just and useful.

Stalagmus (shrugging). Useful?

Geta. By Hercules, a gesture of revolt is always rebellious: he denies the lie that creates master and slaves; he affirms the truth and realizes man.

Stalagmus (shaking his head). Perhaps inner liberation is enough for what you say. And what I did, even if myriads of slaves imitated him, would it bring us closer to external justice? (Rising and stepping to a side door.) No. Since the souls of slaves are no better than those of masters.

Geta. Where are you going? Do you flee to death to escape the slowness of torture? Will you surrender yourself to the magistrate and, from the top of the cross, insult the cowardice of the masters with your courage? Or do you want me to help you win the next forest?

Stalagmus. Neither this, nor that, nor this third party is in harmony with what I have done.

Geta. - So?

Stalagmus. I will kill the magistrate, creature, support and accomplice of the masters.

Geta. I applaud this project for its justice and usefulness.

Stalagmus. The most correct gestures are perhaps the most useless.

Geta. I don't understand.

Stalagmus. Another will replace the one I killed.

Geta. When I listen to you, I wonder why you act.

Stalagmus. I started to act. I have to keep going. But whoever enters into right action is promised defeat and death.

Geta. Yes, they will throw themselves at you, cowards and many, pack of dogs against the cornered boar. Soon heavy chains will immobilize your hands. Then you won't be free.

Stalagmus. True freedom is not in the hands, but in the mind.

Geta. Why do you clap your hands?

Stalagmus. My soul expresses itself by the means it has. Deprived of instruments, no one will hear its language any more. How will my thinking change?

Geta. You surprise me.

Stalagmus. I started a sentence that I must continue. My first gesture is, on a slope, the beginning of a race that leads down to the bottom or to the obstacle. My hands will not renounce themselves by ceasing, before they are reduced to impotence, to carry out the sentences pronounced by my spirit. But perhaps I regret having obeyed my hands for the first time.

Geta. Your gesture is of a young man; your words are of an old man. So that I no longer hear your words, I flee with, in my eyes, the encouragement of your gesture. (He bows, takes Stalagmus's hand, the door to his lips.) Farewell, walk to your noble destiny. (He steps to another door.) I go to my passionate fate. I run, in the tumult of this hour, to possess Emilia and kill her... After these two drunk joys, let them do with me what they want.

Stalagmus and Géta leave through the two side doors, while soldiers enter through the back door and the curtain falls.

Translated by Bayron Pascal