Peace to People of Good Will
A Drama in Five Acts
Act I, Scene I. Characters.
Jean Valo, an adjutant of the General Staff of the Kingdom of Paflonia
Johan Vallö, a private in the Republic of Utopia
Lizeta, the wife of Jean Valo
Lizelota, the wife of Johan Vallö
Pierre, Jean's son
Peter, Joha's son
Leon, Lizeta's lover
War and Peace, two mythical figures
Act I, Scene I
Peace turns toward the public. The scene is dark.
What a terrible storm blows over the village—
Great flakes of snow have covered the sky and whitened the earth—
Brother Unknown, do you see these flames, those gushes of fire and steel?
That horrible rain of stone? That hell on earth? That Death inside a terrible chariot
With his companion, War, and his brother, Murder, flying over the fields?
And you? You are sitting there in your cozy home and you speak of honor.
Streams of fire pour in the face of the people, and you speak of fulfilled duty.
Oh, Brother Unknown, how I understand you.
(Canons start to fire, the music rises and flashes of light appear)
And now, if you have the courage, cross over. You don't have to make a breach, because there is barbed wire here,
Because you will trip over bodies every few hundred of meters. Do you see the light flickering amid the Snow flames of the storm? Slither, crawl and crouch down. No, it's nothing, it's shrapnel,
Onward and onward. Brother Unknown, you are already lying underneath the window. Look through the window. Quietly.
How nice and warm and cozy it is here. A map hangs on the wall. The stove is red-hot.
A flag. The sun against a sky-blue background. Seize the flag of your enemy! The flag of Paflonia.
But you are here. What, are you not a Utopian? Ah, you are a Brother Unknown—
Good. But do you hear what they are saying inside? Tilt your ear. Well, do you hear?
(The scene darkens, as before nightfall)
The orderly officer sighs
My God, my god. Today is Christmas [lit. the Birth of God], and we are here.
A warm Christmas tree in the house. Oh my God.
Stop it. My head is bursting. I'm suffocating. How could you [illegible] at home. Hahaha, the Birth of God. It seems to me that rather the devil was born [illegible]. There is so much grief in me that I could murder someone, ah—
You're talking foolishness. You are sleep-deprived and that is all. Please.
He bends over his receiver, a private walks in with a message.
Sir, I'd like to report that a message has arrived, from the other side. From Utopia. It was sent over the radio. Here.
He died. Some saliva flowed out of his mouth.
His face yellowed, hardened and became empty.
Someone's (maybe mine) terrible scream could be heard
And pushed me into a strange sort of madness.