Tete-D'Or: A Play in Three Acts (Classic Reprint)

A ct IT he open fields at the end of winter. Enter, at the back, SIMON AGNEL, dressed like a peasant. He bears upon his shoulder the body of a woman, and carries a spade. Enter, in front, CEBES, walking slowly. CEBES: I stand here, Untaught, irresolute, A man new-born confronting things unknown. I turn my face towards the Future and the lowering arch of the sky. My soul is full of weariness! I know nothing. There is nothing I can do. What shall I say? What shall I do? How shall I use these hands that hang at my sides, these feet That bear me about as in a dream? Speech is but a noise and books are only paper. There is no one here but myself. And all that is about me, The foggy air, the rich fields, The trees, the low-lying clouds Seem to speak to me, soundlessly, to ask inarticulate questions. The ploughman Turns homeward with his plough. I hear its slow creaking. It is the time when women bring water from the wells.
(Typographical errors above are due to OCR software and don't occur in the book.)

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