—­Hey, there, wake him up!

—­Do you remember how it used to beat when it was young and strong?

[A low laugh is heard.

—­Who’s laughing?  There are some here who have no business to be here.

—­It just seems so to you.  We are all alone, only we drunkards.

—­I’ll go out on the street and start a fight.  I’ve been robbed.  I’m stark naked, and my skin is green.

—­Good evening.

—­The wheel is rumbling again.  Oh, Lord, they’ll crush me!  Help!

[No one responds.

—­Good evening.

—­Do you remember his birth?  I believe you were there.

—­I must be dying.  Good Lord!  Good Lord!  Who will carry me to the grave?  Who will bury me?  I’ll be lying like a dog on the street.  People will step over me, wagons will ride over me.  They’ll crush me.  Oh, my God!  Oh, my God! (Cries)

—­Permit me to congratulate you, my dear friend, on the birth of your child.

—­I am positive there is a mistake here.  For a circle to fall out of a straight line is an absurdity.  I’ll demonstrate it on the spot.

—­You’re right.

—­Oh my!  Oh my!

—­It’s only ignoramuses in mathematics who will permit it.  I won’t.  I won’t permit it, do you hear?

—­Do you remember the rosy dress and the little bare neck?

—­And the flowers?  The lilies-of-the-valley on which the dew never dried, and the violets, and the green grass?

—­Don’t touch, don’t touch the flowers, girls.

[They utter a low and suppressed laugh.

—­Oh my!  Oh my!

[The drunkards have all gone.  Their places are taken by the Old Women.  The light grows steady and very faint.  The figure of the Unknown is sharply outlined, and so is Man’s gray head, on which a, faint light falls from above.

OLD WOMEN’S CONVERSATION.

—­Good evening.

—­Good evening.  What a splendid night!

—­Here we are together again.  How are you feeling?

—­I cough a little.

[They laugh suppressedly.

—­It won’t take long now.  He’ll die soon.

—­Look at the candle.  The flame is blue and thin and spreading sideways.  There’s no more wax.  It’s only the wick that’s burning.

—­It doesn’t want to go out.

—­When did you ever see a flame that did want to go out?

—­Don’t dispute, don’t dispute.  Whether it wants to go out, or doesn’t want to go out, time is flying.

—­Do you remember his motor car?  He once almost ran me down.

—­And his fifteen rooms?

—­I was there a little while ago.  The rats almost ate me up, and I caught a cold in the draught.  Someone had stolen the window frames, and the wind was blowing through the whole house.

—­Did you try the bed in which his wife died?  Isn’t it soft and nice?