The Ride Across Lake Constance and Other Plays Read Online Free PDF Page B

ward throws.
    We see that the ward’s projectiles are sticking to the warden’s shirt: yes, they are thistles.
    While the warden is slowly writing, the ward occasionally throws a thistle at him, yet without expressing anything with the manner in which he throws it.
    We hear the music and smell the incense.
    The warden’s back is slowly but surely covered with a cluster of thistles while he writes.
    He writes slowly down along the door:

    The ward now takes the thistles out of his fist and throws them with the other hand.

    The warden, while writing, takes the bullwhip from the door.
    Now he steps back.
    The ward happens to be throwing again.
    The warden turns around as though accidentally, not quickly; at the same time, the ward throws a thistle, which hits the warden’s chest (or not). The warden is standing there by himself; the ward throws the remaining thistles at the warden.
    The warden is holding the pan with the incense in front of him. The longer the warden holds the pan, the longer the intervals between the ward’s throws.
    Meanwhile, it gradually becomes dark once again, and the music … (see above)
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    The two figures are sitting on the stage, which is bright again; they are sitting at the table, each one by himself.

    All at once we notice there is blood running from the ward’s nose. The blood trickles out of his nose, across his mouth, over his chin, out of his nose …
    The warden is sitting there by himself, the ward doesn’t budge from the spot, doesn’t budge from the spot …
    Gradually it becomes dark again on the stage.
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    Once we can see again, both of them are sitting in their positions at the table.
    The ward gets up and stands against the rear wall, with his back to us.
    The warden gets up, goes to the ward, grabs him by the shoulder, without expressing anything (that is, not violently), and turns him around.

    The warden, after a pause, changes the position of his hands and turns the ward around once more.
    The turning around gradually turns into turning around and turning around, now into turning around pure and simple.
    The warden turns the ward with ease, almost as though he were thinking of something else, and the ward turns easily, also as though he were thinking of something else.
    Without transition, without either of them staggering, we suddenly see the warden standing by the bottles and plates.
    The ward has been standing still for some time before we really notice that he is standing still.
    The warden has already bent down and while bending down throws a bottle toward the ward: the ward shows how he would like to catch but can’t—the bottle falls on the floor and does what it does.
    As one can imagine, it goes on like this: Bending down, the warden throws bottles, plates, and glasses toward the ward, but the ward, although apparently making an effort, lets all the objects fall on the floor, and the objects either break or they don’t.
    This process also lacks a regular rhythm: they wait now and then, then the warden throws once more, then the ward misses again …
    Suddenly, even before the collection of bottles has been disposed of—amid the nicest possible throwing and breaking—the ward catches an object, as if by accident.
    We are startled.
    At the same moment the stage becomes dark, abruptly.
    And again it becomes bright, and both of them are sitting at the table. The warden gets up and goes where? Apparently he doesn’t know where he should go.
    No, he doesn’t want to go to the calendar.
    He turns around, turns around, is turning around.
    The ward gets up and walks after him; he shows how he shares the warden’s indecision and imitates the warden’s
gestures, his leg movements as well as his indecisive arm movements, although the imitation need not be a complete aping.
    They almost collide when the warden suddenly changes direction—he is probably avoiding the pieces of the broken bottles and