he colonies; so that the story's now at an end.

STRANGER. Then my story's at an end too. So thoroughly at an end, that
no happy memories remain. The last was fouled by the poisoner....

BEGGAR. Whose poison you prepared! You should declare your bankruptcy.

STRANGER. Yes. Now I'll have to give in.

BEGGAR. Then the day of reckoning will draw near.

STRANGER. I think we might call it quits; because, if I've sinned, I've
been punished.

BEGGAR. But others certainly won't think so.

STRANGER. I've stopped taking account of others, since I saw that the
Powers that guide the destinies of mankind brook no accomplices. The
crime I committed in this life was that I wanted to set men free....

BEGGAR. Set men free from their duties, and criminals from their feeling
of guilt, so that they could really become unscrupulous! You're not the
first, and not the last to dabble in the Devil's work. Lucifer a non
lucendo! But when Reynard grows old, he turns monk--so wisely is it
ordained--and then he's forced to split himself in two and drive out
Beelzebub with his own penance.

STRANGER. Shall I be driven to that?

BEGGAR. Yes. Though you don't want it! You'll be forced to preach
against yourself from the housetops. To unpick your fabric thread by
thread. To flay yourself alive at every street corner, and show what
you really are. But that needs courage. All the same, a man who's played
with the thunder will not tremble! Yet, sometimes, when night falls and
the Invisible Ones, who can only be seen in darkness, ride on his chest,
then he will fear--even the stars, and most of all the Mill of Sins,
that grinds the past, and grinds it... and grinds it! One of the
seven-and-seventeen Wise Men said that the greatest victory he ever
won was over himself; but foolish men don't believe it, and that's why
they're deceived; because they only credit what nine-and-ninety fools
have said a thousand times.

STRANGER. Enough! Tell me; isn't this snow here on the ground?

BEGGAR. Yes. It's winter here.

STRANGER. But over there it's green.

BEGGAR. It's summer there.

STRANGER. And growing light! (A clear beam of light falls on the
foot-bridge.)

BEGGAR. Yes. It's light there, and dark here.

STRANGER. And who are they? (Three children, dressed is summer clothing,
two girls and a boy, come on to the bridge from the right.) Ho! My
children! (The children stop to listen, and then look at the STRANGER
without seeming to recognise him