—­No, they are very funny.  I like to wash them when they are born.

—­I like to wash them when they are dead.

—­Don’t dispute.  Don’t dispute.  Each will have her way.  One will wash the child when it is born, another when it dies.

—­But why do they think they have a right to make demands the moment they are born?  I don’t like it.  They don’t think they have.  It’s their stomachs that make the demands.

—­They’re forever demanding.

—­But their demands are never granted.

[The Old Women laugh.  The cries begin again.

—­She is screaming again.

—­Animals give birth to their offspring more easily.

—­And they die more easily, and live more easily; I have a cat.  You ought to see how fat and happy she is.

—­I have a dog, and I tell him every day:  “You are going to die.”  His only reply is to show his teeth and to wag his tail gayly.

—­But they are animals.

—­And these are human beings.

[They laugh.

—­Now she’ll either die or be delivered.  I feel that the whole remnant of her strength is in that wail.

—­Eyes wide open.

—­Cold perspiration on her forehead.

[They listen.

—­She is giving birth to the child.

—­No, she is dying.

[The cries cease.

—­I tell you—­

SOMEONE IN GRAY (speaks in a resonant, powerful voice)

Silence!  Man is born.

[Almost simultaneously with His announcement the crying of an infant is heard and the candle in His hand lights.  A tall candle.  It burns hesitatingly and feebly.  Gradually the flame grows stronger.  The corner in which Someone in Gray stands motionless is always darker than the other corners, and the yellow flame illumines His blunt chin, His tightly closed lips, and His massive, bony face.  The upper part of His face is concealed by His cap.  He is somewhat taller than an ordinary man.

He puts the long, thick candle in an antique candlestick.  His hand comes into relief against the green bronze.  It is gray, firm, with long, thin fingers.

Gradually the room grows brighter.  The figures of five hunch-backed Old Women emerge from the gloom, and the room becomes visible.  It is rectangular, with high, smooth, monotonously colored walls.  Two curtainless windows in the background and two on the right.  The night glooms through them.  Straight, high-backed chairs against the walls._

THE OLD WOMEN (talking rapidly)

—­Hear them running about.  They’re coming here.

—­How bright it is!  Let’s go.

—­Look, the candle is tall and bright.

—­Let’s go, let’s go.  Quick!

—­But we’ll come back.  We’ll come back.

[They laugh quietly, mockingly, and disappear into the dusk with odd, zigzagging movements.  As they leave, the light grows brighter, but still it remains dim, lifeless, and cold.  The corner in which Someone in Gray stands motionless with the burning candle is darker than the others.