ther out?

LADY. Who can say? The children least of all. Let us go to my home. I
long to.

STRANGER. To the lion's den, the snake pit? One more or less makes no
matter. I'll do it for you, but not like the Prodigal Son. No, you shall
see that I can go through fire and water for your sake.

LADY. How do you know...?

STRANGER. I can guess.

LADY. And can you guess that the path to where my parents live in the
mountains is too steep for carts to use?

STRANGER. It sounds extraordinary, but I read or dreamed something of
the kind.

LADY. You may have. But you'll see nothing that's not natural, though
perhaps unusual, for men and women are a strange race. Are you ready to
follow me?

STRANGER. I'm ready--for anything!

(The LADY kisses him on the forehead and makes the sign of the cross
simply, timidly and without gestures.)

LADY. Then come!

SCENE V

ON THE ROAD

[A landscape with hills; a chapel, right, in the far distance on a rise.
The road, flanked by fruit trees, winds across the background. Between
the trees hills can be seen on which are crucifixes, chapels and
memorials to the victims of accidents. In the foreground a sign post
with the legend, 'Beggars not allowed in this parish.' The STRANGER and
the LADY.]

LADY. You're tired.

STRANGER. I won't deny it. But it's humiliating to confess I'm hungry,
because the money's gone. I never thought that would happen to me.

LADY. It seems we must be prepared for anything, for I think we've
fallen into disfavour. My shoe's split, and I could weep at our having
to go like this, looking like beggars.

STRANGER (pointing to the signpost). And beggars are not allowed in this
parish. Why must that be stuck up in large letters here?

LADY. It's been there as long as I can remember. Think of it, I've not
been back since I was a child. And In those days I found the way short
and the hills lower. The trees, too, were smaller, and I think I used to
hear birds singing.

STRANGER. Birds sang all the year for you then! Now they only sing in
the spring--and autumn's not far off. But in those days you used to
dance along this endless way of Calvaries, plucking flowers at the feet
of the crosses. (A horn in the distance.) What's that?

LADY. My grandfather coming back from shooting. A good old man. Let's go
on and reach the house by dark.

STRANGER. Is it still far?

LADY. No. Only across the hills and over the river.

STRANGER. Is that the river I hear