The Mariner: A Play

The Mariner FernandoPessoa (A room in what is doubtless an old castle. From the room the castle can be seen to be circular In the middle, on a bier stands a coffin in which a maiden woman lies, dressed in white. Four torches in the corners.To the right,almostopposite whoever imaginesthe room, there is a single window, tall and narrow,from which the sea can be glimpsed between two distant hills. Beside the window three maiden women keep vigil. The first is seated in front of the window, her back to the far torch on the right, the other two on either side of the window. It is night,and there is a vague remnant of moonlight.) FIRST WATCHER: Still no sound of the hour striking. SECOND WATCHER: We wouldn't hear it. There's no clock nearby. It must soon be morning. THIRD WATCHER: No: the horizon is black. FIRST WATCHER: Don't you want us, sister, to pass the time by telling one another what we once were? It is beautiful, and it's always false. SECOND WATCHER: No, let's not talk about that. Besides, were we ever anything? FIRST WATCHER: Perhaps. I don't know. Even so, it's always beautiful to talk about the past. . . . Hours have gone by and we've remained silent. For my part, I've been watching the flame of that candle. Sometimes it flickers, then it turns yellow, then again it becomes pale. I don't know why this happens. But do we know, sisters, why anything happens? (A pause.) To talk about the past . .. that must be beautiful, because it is useless and causes such pain. . .. SECOND WATCHER: Let's talk, if you like, about a past we might have had.... 50 THIRD WATCHER: No. Perhaps we did have it. ... FIRST WATCHER: You are speaking nothing but words. Talking is so sad! It's such a false way of forgetting ourselves! . . . What if we went for a walk? THIRD WATCHER: Where? FIRST WATCHER: Here, from one side to the other. Sometimes it brings dreams. THIRD WATCHER: Of what? FIRST WATCHER: I don't know. Why should I know? (A pause.) SECOND WATCHER: This country is so very sad. . . . The country where I used to live wasn't so sad. As the sun went down I would sit at my window and spin. The window looked out on to the sea, and sometimes there was an island in the distance. . . . Often I wouldn't even spin; I'd look at the sea and forget about living. I don't know if I was happy. I'll never again be what perhaps I never was. ... FIRST WATCHER: I've never seen the sea, except from here. That window over there is the only one from which you can see the sea, but you can see so little! . . . Is the sea of other lands beautiful? SECOND WATCHER: It is only the sea of other lands which is beautiful. The one we see makes us pine for the one we'll never see. ... (A pause.) FIRST WATCHER: Didn't we say we were going to talk about our past? SECOND WATCHER: No, we didn't. THIRD WATCHER: Why do you suppose there's no clock in this room? SECOND WATCHER: Idon't know. . . . But this way, without a clock, everything is more distant, and mysterious. The night belongs more to itself. I . . Who knows if we would be talking like this if we knew what time it was? FIRST WATCHER: Sister, everything inside me is sad. I have December in my soul.... I'm trying not to look through the window.... I know that from there you can see hills in the distance. . . . There was a time when I was happy beyond the hills. . . . I was a little girl. I used to pick flowers all day long, and before going to sleep I would ask them not to take them away.. . . I don't know what is so irredeemable about this as to make me want to cry. . . . It could only have happened a long way from here. ... When will day come? . . . THIRD WATCHER: What does it matter? It always comes in...