Royal--
PEHR. What matter, once you're dead! But what shall you write
about? I have never carried on any wars.
HISTORIAN. That is just what I wish to speak about. Your Highness
only need turn to the Minister of War--
PEHR. Then he will arrange one; that is his occupation, and for
that he is paid 20,000 shekels.
HISTORIAN. It is the people, Your Highness, who--
PEHR. Conduct the wars. The Minister of War makes them, while we
sit at home and take the glory--the shame we never take.
[Enter Vizier.]
VIZIER. The bride is waiting.
PEHR. The bride! Who? Where? What does it mean?
VIZIER. Your Highness' consort.
PEHR. Lisa! She loves me still, despite all my faults? Conduct her
hither. She shall bring the fresh air of the forest into these
musty halls!
VIZIER. Your Highness wished first to sign the marriage contract.
PEHR. I'm forever writing! No, this time I don't have to read.
[Signs.] Now, Royal Historian, you can put down at least one action
in my life that was not crime! [Vizier and Historian go.]
[Bride, veiled in Oriental fashion, is ushered in; attendants
withdraw immediately; from behind is heard soft music.]
PEHR. [Runs toward bride.] Lisa, Lisa! You always come like a
sunbeam when the clouds thicken--always like a friend in the dark
hour!
BRIDE. [Raises veil.] My name is not Lisa.
PEHR. Not Lisa--What does this mean? Treachery! Who are you then?
BRIDE. Your consort.
PEHR. My consort!
BRIDE. [Indifferently.
Pages:
44
45
46
47
48
49
50
51
52
53
54
55
56
57
58
59
60
61
62
63
64
65
66
67
68