to begin all over again?

LADY. All over again? The quarrels? No, we won't do that.

STRANGER. You're right. The quarrels would only begin all over again.
And yet it's difficult to part.

LADY. To part. The word alone's terrible enough.

STRANGER. Then what are we to do?

LADY. I don't know.

STRANGER. No, one knows nothing, hardly even that one knows nothing; and
that's why, you see, I've got as far as to _believe_.

LADY. How do you know you can believe, if belief's a gift?

STRANGER. You can receive a gift, if you ask for it.

LADY. Oh yes, if you ask; but I've never been able to beg.

STRANGER. I've had to learn to. Why can't you?

LADY. Because one has to demean oneself first.

STRANGER. Life does that for one very well.

LADY. Mizzi, Mizzi, Mizzi!... (She has taken a shawl she was carrying
over her arm, rolled it up and put it on her knee like a baby in long
clothes.) Sleep! Sleep! Sleep! Think of it! I can see her here! She's
smiling at me; but she's dressed in black; she seems to be in mourning
too! How stupid I am! Her mother's in mourning! She's got two teeth
down below, and they're white--milk teeth; she should never have cut any
others. Oh, can't you see her, when I can? It's no vision. It _is_ her!

CONFESSOR (in the door of the ferryman's hut; sternly to the STRANGER).
Come. Everything's ready!

STRANGER. No. Not yet. I must first set my house in order; and look
after this woman, who was once my wife.

CONFESSOR. Oh, so you want to stay!

STRANGER. No. I don't want to stay; but I can't leave duties behind me
unfulfilled. This woman's on the road, deserted, without a home, without
money!

CONFESSOR. What has that to do with us? Let the dead bury their dead!

STRANGER. Is that your teaching?

CONFESSOR. No, yours.... Mine, on the other hand, commands me to send a
Sister of Mercy here, to look after this unhappy one, who... who... The
Sister will soon be here!

STRANGER. I shall count on it.

CONFESSOR (taking the STRANGER by the hand and drawing him away.) Then
come!

STRANGER (in despair). Oh, God in heaven! Help us every one!

CONFESSOR. Amen!

(The LADY, who has not been looking at the CONFESSOR and the STRANGER,
now raises her eyes and glances at the STRANGER as if she wanted to
spring up and hold him back; but she is prevented by the imaginary child
she has put to her breast.)

Curtain.

ACT II

CROSS-ROADS IN THE MOUNTAINS

[A cross-roads high up in the moun