Such is Life. Франк Ведекинд

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Perugia must be armed for an expedition to its frontiers in the shortest possible time. You will be answerable to me for the life of every citizen and responsible for the inviolate safety of all property. Now bring the former king of Umbria forth from his prison. It is proper that none save I announce to him his sentence.

      FILIPO.

      Your commands shall be observed punctually. Long live King Pietro! (Exit.)

      KING PIETRO.

      Where is my son-in-law, Andrea Valori?

      ANDREA VALORI.

      (Stepping forward.) Here, my king, at your command!

      KING PIETRO.

      I name you treasurer of the Kingdom of Umbria. You and my cousin, Giullio Diaceto, together with our celebrated jurist, Bernardo Ruccellai, whose persuasive words abroad have more than once preserved our city from bloodshed; you three shall be my advisors in the discharge of affairs of state. (After the three summoned have come forward.) Seat yourselves beside me. (They do so.) I can only fulfill the high duty of ruling others if the most able men in the state will enlist their lives in my service. And now, let the others go to bury the victims of this two days' conflict. To show that they did not die in vain for the welfare of their brothers and children, let this be a day of mourning and earnest vigilance.

      (All leave the room save King Pietro, the Councillors and several guards. Then the captive King is led in by Filipo Folchi and several armed men.)

      THE KING.

      Who is bold enough to dare bring us here at the bidding of these disloyal knaves?!

      KING PIETRO.

      According to the provision of our laws, the royal power in Umbria fell to you as eldest son of King Giovanni. You have used your power to degrade the name of a king with roisterers and courtesans. You chose banquets, masquerades and hunting parties, by which you have dissipated the treasures of the state and made the country poor and defenseless, in preference to every princely duty. You have robbed us of our daughters, and your deeds have been the most corrupting example to our sons. You have lived as little for the state's welfare as for your own. You accomplished only the downfall of your own and our native land.

      THE KING.

      To whom is the butcher speaking?

      FILIPO FOLCHI.

      Silence!

      THE KING.

      Give me back my sword!

      ANDREA VALORI.

      Put him in chains! He is raving!

      THE KING.

      Let the butcher speak further.

      KING PIETRO.

      Your life is forfeited and lies in my hands. But I will suspend sentence of death if in legal document you will relinquish in my favor, and in favor of my heirs, your claim and that of your kin to the throne, and acknowledge me as your lord, your rightful successor and as the ruler of Umbria.

      THE KING.

      (Laughs boisterously.) Ha, ha, ha! Ask of a carp lying in the pan to cease to be a fish! That this worm has our life in his power proves indeed that princes are not gods, because, like other men, they are mortal. The lightning, too, can kill; but he who is born a king does not die like an ordinary mortal! Let one of these artisans lay hands upon us, if his blood does not first chill in his veins. Then he shall see how a king dies!

      KING PIETRO.

      You are a greater enemy to yourself than your deadliest foes can possibly be. Although you will not abdicate, we will be mild, in thankful remembrance of the blessed rule of King Giovanni, whose own son you are, and banish you now and forever from the confines of the Umbrian States, under penalty of death.

      THE KING.

      Banish! Ha, ha, ha! Who in the world will banish the King! Shall fear of death keep him from the land of which Heaven appointed him the ruler? Only an artisan could hold life so dear and a crown so cheap!–Ha, ha, ha! These pitiable fools seem to imagine that when a crown is placed upon a butcher he becomes a king! See how the paunch-belly grows pale and shivers up there, like a cheese flung against the wall! Ha, ha, ha! How they stare at us, the stupid blockheads, with their moist dogs' eyes, as if the sun had fallen at their feet!

      PRINCESS ALMA.

      (Rushes in, breaking through the guards at the door. She is fifteen years old, is clad in rich but torn garments and her hair is disheveled.) Let me pass! Let me go to my father! Where is my father? (Sinking down before the King and embracing his knees.) Father! Have I you again, my dearly beloved father?

      THE KING.

      (Raising her.) So I hold you unharmed in my arms once more, my dearest treasure! Why must you come to me with your heartrending grief just at this moment when I had almost stamped these bloodthirsty hounds beneath my feet again!

      ALMA.

      Then let me die with you! To share death with you would be the greatest happiness, after what I have lived through in the streets of Perugia these last two days! They would not let me come to you in prison, but now you are mine again! Remember, my father, I have no one else in the world but you!

      THE KING.

      My child, my dear child, why do you compel me to confess before my murderers how weak I am! Go! I have brought my fate upon myself, let me bear it alone. These men will confirm it that you may expect more compassion and better fortune from my bitterest enemies than if you cling now to your father, broken by fate.

      ALMA.

      (With greatest intensity.) No, do not say that! I beseech you do not speak so again! (Caressingly.) Only remember that it is not yet decided that they murder us. And if we had rather die together than be parted who in the world can harm us then!

      KING PIETRO.

      (Who during this scene has quietly come to an agreement with his councillors, turning to the King.) The city of Perugia will give your daughter the most careful education until her majority; and then bestow upon her a princely dower; if she will promise to give her hand in marriage to my son, Filipo Folchi, who will be my successor upon this throne.

      THE KING.

      You have heard, my child? The throne of your father is open to you!

      ALMA.

      O my God, how can you so scoff at your poor child!

      KING PIETRO.

      (To the King.) As for you, armed men under the command of my son shall conduct you, within this hour, to the confines of this country. Have a care that you do not take so much as a step within our land hereafter, or your head shall fall by the hand of the executioner in the market place of Perugia!

      (Filipo Folchi has the King and the

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