time. Truly, the torture of Beelzebub is really frightful if he is required to hear such choirs if only once a week.
(uproar and rage of the women)
OGLIPIGLAP:
(entering)
Master Spiagudry, I announce a new pensioner to you.
SPIAGUDRY:
Marvelous! Where’s he coming from?
OGLIPIGLAP:
From the beaches of Urchtal.
SPIAGUDRY:
Fine! Fine! (rubbing his hands) Have him brought in through the small gate.
(goes out with his assistant.)
MAASE:
Doubtless it’s another victim of love or ambition.
KENNIBOL:
(looking through the bars of the grill)
By my saber! It’s an officer of my regiment. He appears to be a suicide.
OLLY:
Say rather he’s been murdered for he was found on the beach of Urchtal and it’s known Hans of Iceland wanders on those beaches.
MAASE:
Yes. And what’s more no one is unaware that the Icelander murders in a manner so diabolical that his victims are often taken for suicides.
KENNIBOL:
What sort of man is this Hans?
OLLY:
He’s a giant.
MAASE:
No. He’s a dwarf.
KENNIBOL:
No one’s seen him?
MAASE:
Those who see him for the first time see him for the last as well.
OLLY:
(mysteriously)
Hush! They say there are only three people who have ever exchanged human words with him. This reprobate Spiagudry, the widow Stadt and her son, the poor Gill that you see here.
KENNIBOL:
(still looking through the grill)
Oh, now I am certain that it is Captain Dispolsen, who was coming from Copenhagen and who was expected this morning at Munckolm. I recognize the steel chain that our state prisoner, Old Harald, gave him on his departure.
ORDENER:
(coming forward excitedly)
You are sure that this is Captain Dispolsen?
KENNIBOL:
Certain. On the glory of Saint Beelzebub, my patron.
ORDENER:
(leaving)
Poor Count! Unfortunate Harald! One friend remained to you; you’ve lost him and now only Ordener is interesting himself in you.
(goes out)
SPIAGUDRY:
Come, night is approaching, my old friends: vanish. Enough wagging your tongues, now you must wag your legs.
OLLY:
(mockingly)
Good evening, Doctor Spiagudry.
MAASE:
Good evening, old monopolist of cadavers.
KENNIBOL:
Good evening, neighbor. Carefully close up your morgue for fear someone will come to steal your dead from you.
SPIAGUDRY:
Neighbor? Say rather, your host. For I really hope that one of these days, I will rent you one of my stone beds for a week.
(Spiagudry, having closed the exterior gate, moves away to the right.)
BLACKOUT/CURTAIN
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