Page:Poet Lore, volume 36, 1925.pdf/374

 aldermen should not smack their lips over my pike. And I’m glad—

Míchal.—Glad? What for?

Ivan.—That I am leaving. I have already had my fill. Such a life! I got tired of continually observing the rabble of the people, observing and listening, acting as a godfather for the fishermen, and attending funerals or accompanying the thumping of women’s feet at dances, chasing drunkards when their feet got twisted and they walked the banks at dawn, or frightening and catching disobedient boys, and then in the evening of listening to the babbling of lovers sitting on the banks under the oaks, of hearkening to their sighing and cooing, or of gazing at crazy rhymesters as they try to fit the moon into their rhymes, as they listen to the reeds!—(Angrily.) That, and that always, the same song forever! To listen to that, to gaze at it and yet be unable, without getting into trouble, even to change into a black horse, and with coy freedom swiftly gallop down the meadow, and strike out with my hoofs, dash forth with my waving mane and neigh loudly into the night and storm; why, one cannot even graze calmly and freely or change into a lantern and wander about at night, quietly and slowly, like a little red light along the stream into the dark, beneath the trees.

Míchal.—Not even that?

Ivan.—And to get nothing anywhere but a frown, a snare, and efforts to catch the sprite and tie the rope. That is why I leave these false people. There is no affection among them, each one loves only himself and spies on the other man, scheming how he may stab him or at least prick him and trip him. Their universe is not sufficient for them. They laugh at us and yet despise us. Away from these people; that is the sum total of wisdom!

Míchal.—Where do you propose to go?

Ivan.—Why, into this vicinity, comrade.

Míchal (Quickly).—I’ll not let you in.

Ivan.—You don’t think I would go to your abode, do you? I’d be ashamed of you, every day, the way you prink and do one foolish thing after another.

Míchal.—Where to, then?

Ivan.—Where I’ll be all alone, where I shall hardly ever see a human face. (Points toward the forest.) Over there into the little lake in the woods near the old castle, in to that forsaken pool. There peace will reign, there I’ll be able to breathe freely, whether