In Two Parts
(based on Aenide – Virgil’s poem)
Part I.
Titles. The chirping of birds, valley between mountains. A green thicket,
branches of trees, bushes, grass, stones, a lizard.
The voice of Aenei: The last of the Trojans – are we.
I will narrate the tale of our wanderings after the fall of Troy.
The Greeks proved to be more shrewd than we.
Never would they have conquered us by sheer force.
Their heroes inspire ridicule, weighted down as they are by their armour.
They succeed by dint of cunning rather than bravery.
Be it as it is (However that may be) we are now deprived of our homeland.
Trojans, we are like chips off the sane block — of the Trojan people, fatally swept off the face of the earth.
Having been thrown into the sea, we must reach the shore, push our green shoots again, create a nation.
We, who have survived three deaths, three deaths which have crossed the stream, must now live for our children, to ensure the continuation of the Trojan mission on this planet.
A vague hum is penetrated by the louder sounds of soldiers cries and the rattle of weaponry (armour).
But the twittering of birds overwhelms all other sounds.
Through the branches one can see a man approaching. He wears a bearskin coat, which is belted, and on his belt there hangs a sword.
He stops by the stream and takes off his belt and sword.
He squats, and using a sea-shell he begins to scrape off the metal incrustations of his belt the congealed blood and brain.
He washes his hands, wipes his forehead with his wet palms, and discovers his image in the water. Amidst eyes, lips, hair, there appear the dark, shadowy backs of fish, darting about. From the green depths of the pond there glistens a peace of metal.
Aenei using his thumb and forefinger pulls a ring out of the depth of the water
and puts it on his thumb.
With his palm he grasp the handle of his sword.
Aenei walks uphill.
Carthagenes. A cave city, alternating with rising walls and pillars.
Coming through the gates, towards Aenei, is an old cart pulled by an ox, with a boy in it. When he saw Aenei, the boy rose in his cart and opened his mouth Aenei enters the town.
On both sides of the road sawed logs are piled, people are bustling about. They wear cloth and sandals. They are whipping a slave for his misbehavior. A bunch of dogs run past, barking. A cock sits down on a hen, then flutters off and crows.
Children climb over a fruit tree. Right from under Aenei’s feet. There appeared the head of a grinning nigger, sounds of triumphal music are heard, which suddenly overcome the fainter dimmer sounds, growing into shrieks of joy.
Only the Trojans can shout like this.
Aenei, rushing through the drummers, squeaking flutes, of the musicians, rises up to the cave dwelling of the princess.
The hall is white with a yellowish gleam, with a low ceiling, propped up with
pillars. On couches, covered with leather skins, the Trojans relax. These are
Aenei’s warrior brothers. They are wearing animal skins, drinking out of goblets, and eating meat. Some of them have shaven heads with one plait of hair on top of the head, and whiskers of amazing length. Pieces of precious cloth are clipped together with leather bonds. A crooked sword beats a rhythm against the ground, when a Trojan tips his goblet. Didona sits on the throne, which is covered with leather encrusted with precious stones. She is wearing a grey cape with a diadem crowning her head. The Trojans turn towards Aenei and are preparing to jump to their feet, embrace and kiss Aenei when they are suddenly interrupted by the loud shrieking of Didona who catches side of the ring, which Aenei had pulled out of the stream.
She springs from her place and gently sweeping across the raised goblets of the Trojans, disappears through the doorway.
The warriors, having overcome their amazement, which was inspired by the sudden disappearance of the princess, surround Aenei, each one attempts to embrace him.
A whiskered warrior: We have waited and waited eagerly for you. We think, where is our Aenei, no doubt he has been carousing somewhere… Or has he become weary of the cursed tempests… Or has he tired of the decks swinging under his feet… Perhaps he wishes to give his tired people a rest.
Anei, speaking jerkily: Well, I… I held council with may mother. It was decided to remain in Carthagences until the hour strikes for travel.
A long-eared warrior: Gosh! We’ll gobble up a lot of mead.
The whiskered warrior: Tush! You nitwit. You can’t drink a lot, you know. You’11 want to throw up over the cliff, as you did today.
The warriors thrust hunks of meat at Aenei and refill his goblet constantly.
The long-eared Trojan: Oh, you bitch, what a strange bone one discovers, when one bites off the flesh. He holds up a bone with three teeth in it.
The bewhiskered one: That Is Troy. It is a reminder of itself.
All became somber.
In the meantime, the sun set and the Trojans began to sing a song. The words of their song wove together and merged into one long drawn out tone, transforming itself into a string tone so that one could imagine one heard the mountains sing.
Didona and Anna sit on the windowsill. The moonlight streams over the irregular walls.
The silhouettes froze symmetrically; they appeared to be also made of stone.
Didona: Oh, Anna. A strange guest has come to our town. I think he is a God.
He was untouched by flames, even those of the inferno. Now, in another form he returns as a pilgrim warrior. I do think he is my husband, Sihei, who was murdered by my Brother.
Anna: You are raving, Sister. He is not Sihei, but rather Aenei as he has called himself.
Didona: Yes, yes. However, he wears a ring on his thumb exactly as my husband wore it.
It was with this ring that Sihei descended into the earth.
Oh, my live has returned to me. It is he, he… Behind the alien traits of this man, I see essence of my only spouse who has returned. I believe… my heart begins to feel again.
I sense the old fires returning.
Anna: Sister, you are dearer to me than the daylight. Nonetheless, he is no Sihei.
Well, let him become your second husband. Why spend your youth in dreary solitude, and neither your beloved children nor the fruits of Venus will you enjoy? Until now, no one has moved you to consummate a second marriage, in your native Tyre. Here you have neglected the Tsar Jarb, and other kings of Africa.
(Anna continues, her voice disappears behind the scene).
Didona rises on the towards the throne of Jarb which is on a hill.
An ugly gnome-like figure darts past her and in doing so he twists his childlike hand into a gesture of mockery. Didona approaches Jarb. At this moment the voices of Anna and Didona blend: – Give me land for my small nation. I want to build the city of Carthagene on it.
Jarb is eyeing Didona with insolence; her swelling bosom is revealed to his penetrating glance. Jarb, grasping the animal skin from under himself, filings it to Didona.
The voices of Anna and Didona and Jarb merge: You will take as much land from me as will fill this animal skin.
Now Didona sits and cuts up the animal skin along the spiral, beginning at the edge of the skin and working towards the centre of it; using the longest strip she measures out a land plot for the new city. Tears of furty spring out on Jarb’s face.
The ambassadors of Jarb are carrying gifts to Didona. Didona shakes her head in sign of refusal. Didona fall on the dead body of Sihei.
Anna continues: this is the second love, which you desired, and that is why Aenei so vividly reminded you of your dead husband. The ring of Destiny having been found, let it lead you on. Let the forces of Puniets and the Trojans merge into one.
Then Carthagene will shine with a thousand lights, and a kingdom will rise which will become very powerful… If only, if only the grace of the gods can be brought down, gratifying the guests, try to contrive pretexts for a delay, – say, allegedly, the storms have come this way.
Didona: Sister, you have given me wings for an instant, you foretell an imminent happiness. Perchance, it is to recompense me for all the sufferings of the last that it is bestowed on me. However, I do not wish to know about it right now when the torches of love fire my body. Anna: Let us test the will of the gods. (Whispering)
– Early in the morning… two…
Early morning. There lie two lambs, very white of wool, and with their legs tied up.
One lamb tries to get up on its knees, in order to drink from the stream. It reaches with its lips the desired water surface. The lambs are placed on a stone cube. They ate struck on their necks, one by one. Into the warm body, Anna plunges a knife, draws out beating heart and throws it on the steaming struck pyramidal structure of twigs. Out of a jug, a dark liquid is poured on the lamb’s heart, the edges of which have already grown dark. A greenish smoke rushes forth; Anna jumps around the sacrificial heap and jumps over it, in turn, slashes the smoke with her hands in such a way as to suggest that she may be giving the smoke a direction for the unrolling spiral. Exhausted, she falls to one side.
A starry night. A full moon. In the aperture of the window the innards of an animal can be seen strung out; the guts, liver, the spleen. Behind them, a sky of bright, twinkling stars. A comet swings past. The liver falls down; for a moment it lingers on the windowsill, then drops off onto the ground. An anguished cry. That is Anna. She runs down the steps and disappears out of sight. Anna is visiting. Didona. Anna attires her. The rising from her couch, opens her eyes. Anna: It is a bad sign… Aenei…
Didona lets fall a tear. She dives into the bedclothes. Anna leaves her. The Trojans slumber peacefully. Sweetly sleeps Aenei on a sumptuous couch.
A banquet. The Trojans and the Punitsians are sprawled out on leather skins.
Didona: Would you kindly, noble hero, tell us more of your unfinished tale. Yesterday we did not hear it all.
Aenei: And thus: The streets were filled with cries. I called Kriussa again and again with a moan, – but in vain. I sought her endlessly, throwing myself from one side to and suddenly, her ghost appeared before me. The shadow was higher than it had been when she was alive, the familiar image. I froze in my place and my voice cracked. She said to me: Is there much benefit from the deep mourning that you have sunk into. It is not without the will of the Gods that all this has come to pass, and it is not your Destiny for you to gather Kriussa from here to be your companion. Long will you roam over the before you arrive at the land of the Hesperides. You will come into a happy fate, and acquire kingdom too, and a royal bride, will you find; then cry no more. Well, farewell now. But preserve our mutual love for our Son…
The Trojans and the Punitsians listened eagerly to this utterance, and in the meanwhile Didona is rolling around the couch on which Aenei had slept. And the voice of Aenei reaches this spot… He shed tears. He wanted to say a lot. The specter of Kriusse left me, melting away on the spot, although I tried to grasp the bodiless specter but all in vain.
With the first rays of the sun, the select regiment departs. All carry netting and wide jawed spears. They gallop on horseback. A pack of hunting dogs jumps and leaps about them. The Princess rises slowly in her chambers. On the threshold, the Punitsians dignitaries patiently await her appearance; Te purple and gold harness of the clanging hoofs of the horse chews on its reins, which are wet from its foam. Then, surrounded by her notables, the Princess finally emerges. Scape with an embroidered hem; behind the shoulders a quiver, in her hair a golden ribbon; the edge of the purple robe is gathered by a brooch of gold. Aenei himself is in front; he combines the two regiments – marching proudly. He crowned his curls with leaves, the arrows tinkled in his quiver.
Impenetrable thickets in the mountains. Wild goats sprung off the rocks. On the other side, over the open meadows, raising a cloud of dust, herds of deer are seen running.
A loud thunder shook the darkening sky. A dark cloud glowered over the scene. The Punitsians and Trojan escorts leap in different directions seeking a shelter. In a dark cave, Aenei and Didona are seen. They seek dry twigs and bay, to warm themselves by the fire. Didona rubs herself against Aenei. He scrapes the flint with a «krisalla» Sparks. Twigs catch the flames, dry grass sticks to them. The fire grows big. Aenei casts off his wet clothes. Through the crevices of the door a slan rain slashes in. Torrents of rain fall from overhead. Didona takes off all her clothes, and staring into the bonfire she closes tightly her eyes. She waits; Aenei undecided (hesitates). He pretends to be intent on his work. He breaks up the twigs into the tiniest bits with his harsh fingers, Didona finds this funny. She rolls wit laughter. Aenei senses something sinister in her laughter* He leaps towards her and puts his hand over her mouth. Aenei (s face is full of fear. She thrusts her tongue out through the fingers of his hand, and begins to kiss his entire hand and Aenie, his feelings enflamed rushes towards her, Carthagenes. All work has stopped. All is paralyzed.
Night in the castle. On Aenei’s couch is Didona. Beside them is a tray laden with sweetmeats and an ever turned goblet. Birds fly in and peck at the remnants of the feast. A vacant couch. The hands of Didona sweep off the sheet, twist it into a roll and ties it around her body, then rolls herself joyously on the floor, she stops. She sits down. Languorously she draws up her knees under her chin and embraces them with h her arms.
On the meadow teen agers have started to play a game. A little boy who is dressed like a prince is giving orders to the Punitsians. A stick is thrown into the air. Aenei's eyes are filled with tears. The stick falls to the ground. Boys come running from everywhere. The first to seize the stick is Jul. He raises it on high and run with it. This stick turns out to be a lighted torch. Aenei, by curious habit, transforms the twigs into dust in his hardened fingers. He blows the dust off his palms.
Carthagenes, Work is recommenced.
The face of Aenei is mirrored in the water.
His lips mutter: You are now in high Carthagenes, you are laying the foundations of buildings. You are erecting a city, of women a slave, you have forgotten your prowess’s. Why do you dally in Levite terrains? Remember, Jul is growing up, if glory do no longer temps you. Do not forget – for him you must conquer a kingdom.
Didona'a chambers. Aenei peeps through the window.
Didona: Perfidious! Well then, neither love nor our union, will not held thee, nor yet death which awaits Didona. Naught will avail. Having prepared the fleet you are keen to sail despite windstorms and tempests. Could you be running from me? I pledge an oath. If I was even a little beloved by you… If I had only been able to conceive a child. If by my side a little Aenei would be running around, then I would not have felt seduced and abandoned.
Aenei: All that you say I will not refute. But it is not of my own will that I leave these shores. If I were free, but I am not. I am a slave of the stars but net of men. That which took place between us I never called a union. Cease, then, to torment both of us with lamentations. It is not of ray own will.
Didona, enraged. She spans Aenei with a hostile eye from head to feet.
Didona: My love has not to ched you. Then, so bit it run. And your kingdom, which you will erect, I curse.; It will become a hell en earth… and forever.
Didona and Anna in Aeneifs chambers.
Didona: I have found the means, how to bring him back and thus rid myself of my passion.
Only vow to you that it is against my will that I have witchcraft.
In the midst of the castle, on a pile of logs and oak chips, Aenei's couch is erected. A purple cape from Leon hangs down,
Anna carried in weapons and throws them down on the couch. By the side of the couch stand Didona who is rubbing her temps with salt, mixed with half a measure of flour. One of her is akimbo, the bonds of her dress are untied. Her face, peering into the starry sky. The night sea. On deck, lit up by torches, Aenei is drinking with the Trojans. A vision of a burning city of skyscrapers. The airplanes are covered with flames. Their debris fall o to the town. The bonfire swallows Aenei's couch and other attributes. Aenei’s wax image flows along the flaming cloth of the couch. A dagger gleams in the hands of Didona. The blade of the dagger is turned towards the moon. With this dagger Didona cuts into her veins. The blood spurts out. She lunges around the bonfire with upheld bleeding arms she runs into the pedestal of death and disappears smoke.
Silent stars in tae sky. The sea. On the stem of the boat, the bewhiskered one points out Aenei two mountains in the distance.
The bewhiskered one: Silas and Harybda. Aenei, jerkily: Steer in between them.
Here the stem of the boat moves into the darkness between the two rocks. It seems as if the boat is inclining to one side and slides downwards, as though into a cave. The Trojans huddling together stare ahead. A mechanical humming reaches them. A space appears which resembles the tunnel of an underground station. In reality, the Trojans find themselves in an underground train compartment, remaining in the same postures as they were on the stem of the boat. The front of the compartment — is a gaping emptiness, interweaving with blinking sleepers. The space has widened. A gigantic hangar of knocking machines. A profile of Aenei on a background of fleeting constructions. Ahead the red light of a perpetual sunset. They roar into a colossal square ladi out in blocks rising up to the horizon. On each side a pile of metal waste; Metal containers, rolls of electric wire, the skeletons of train compartments.
Part II
The solitary compartment of the Trojans slews down. Impasse. The tile covered square ends suddenly. A view of Marshy plains. Dressed in a dazzling white suit, Aenei aids each on of the Trojans farewell, shaking hands. The Bewhiskered One, holding on to Aenei's hand in his, looking steadily at him, pulls him towards himself.
The Bewhiskered One: Well, Godspeed. Go. And we will wait for you. Aenei walks over the wet ground, en which metal spirals gleam, along the sides — pieces of steel fittings, the wheels of compartments. Aenei jumps from one tussock to another spots of oil glimmer in the little ponds pools of water; the water is dark and sticky.
The rather dray island is the coastline of the Styx. — the border between the marshland and the river itself; and here too is the dock. — a metal truss crowns a metal pillar of a sunken barge. In the distance, a wire extends across the entire river, and along the wire tugs a ferryboat with an ancient motor. On the ferry, at the helm's motor stands a sullen, dirty old man — the ferryman, with his shaggy beard. On his shoulders he wears a raincoat dating to the Second World War.
As soon as the ferryboat touched the coast, when from under the rushes and marshy weeds a hooting could be heard, a quiet squealing,; naked men, women and children rushed towards the ferryboat. On the shore, huddling together, they stretched out their hands, striving to utter something; only rasping sounds and whistling noises reach the ferryboat. The aged ferryman places himself at the steps of the ferryboat, and allows entry on board only to those who hold tickets. He chases away the others. Now he scrutinizes a ticket, comes down with terrible swearing towards the holder of same. The bearer trembles with fear, some one else tries to crawl through the legs of the old man. The old man, squeezing the neck of the unfortunate trespasser, begins to beat him with a rubber hose over the hack, perhaps as a lesson for the others, pushed away by the old man, they sadly scatter along the shore. Aenei, seeing a creature pass him by, shouts to him: Palinoor. A man stops, looks back; on his face a faint appears. He tries to utter something. Aenei approaches him: Palinoor… who took you away from us? Tell me all…
Palinoor: Into the water having suddenly fallen, I forced the helm out and pulled it alone with me. I vow to you by the sea, it is not for myself but for you that I feared. What if he loses both the helm and the helmsman shall not cope with the sorm. Three nights did I swim, on the dawn of the fourth day I touched land. But there a savage tribe attacked me. Weighted down by wet clothes I started to crawl, clutching at the rocks presently my body is rocked by winds near the shoreline. I beseech you, give me deliverance find the Vellite port, bury my body there — you are capable of all, Mighty One; so that a peaceful haven might I find, at last after death.
Aenei: Well, Palinoor. I will find this spot. It will bear your name forever.
Aenei approaches the ferryboat — the ferryman shouts to him: You, man, stop. Don’t come up to the ferry. Say, what do you come for, and not a step further.
I am forbidden to carry live persons. From those of you, living creatures I expect nothing good.
Aenei: Listen, kind fellow, I would like to see ay father. If filial piety,.. The ferryman, interrupting him, It is forbidden to see him. I cant break the regulations. So go back to your home, or else… (the ferryman takes a whistle to his lips) Aenei, taking out a purse, pulls out several gold coins, comes up very near the old and offers him the coins; the latter hides them suddenly under his cape. He shouts;
— I am embarking. (He pulls the straps) The motor starts. He then turns towards the passengers sitting on the benches. Well, come closer, quickly!
On the space liberated on the benches he throws his cape, and offers it to Aenei, Please sit here. Aenei observes the passengers seated a round him, and suddenly sees Didona. On her hands he sees wounds, which are still crusted with blood. Aenei jumped off his seat, and began to move towards her, staring at her, with doubt recog¬nizing her. His eyes filled with tears, with affection and tenderness he addresses Didona:
— So that which I heard was true. Poor Didona has already gone. Did I cause your death? But I swear… I did not leave your land of my own will. It is the same will of the stars that pushes me on, as before and for this reason I am now here. But I could not believe — how frightening, that the separation with me should bring you so much suffering! Stop! Who do you run from? Just look at me.
Didona, having turned away and looking down, got up and pushing her way to the side of the boat stares into the distance, there where the river streams ahead. She hears him not, strong as a rock, old as marble.
Now the ferryboat reaches the shore. In the crowd Aenei walks forward, keeping Didona in sight. He sees her running in front of the others and rushes towards a person sitting by a hill. Aenei mutters: Sihei…
Sihei, seeing Didona, runs towards her. They come together, take each other by the hand and disappear in the coastal thickets.
Aenei, rising on a hillock sees a green plains in the distance, white villas, a highroad, which is blocked by sentry-post with shlagbaum behind the post is a fence with metal grill, electrically wired, alternating with regularly placed towers with sentries. Closer to the base of the hill he sees a white limousine. Aenei descends and sits down in the car. He approaches the sentry-post. Suddenly, out of the sentry-post a great hound jumps out with a gaping jaw. Aenei: Cerberes. Cerberes attacks the car, beats the roof of the car with its heavy paws, scratches the metal with its claws, so that the scratches can be seen on the surface, pushes its barking jaw into the car window. Aenei lunges from one side to other. He fingers his revolver inside his pocket but having reconsidered he pulls out of clothes an enormous pancake and a flask of powder; he throws the pancake into the yawning jaws of the hound. The hound lopes off, and, squealing away, hides himself under the kennel. The Shlagbaum rises slowly and Aenei moves forward. The car dashes along the highroad. He sees a person sitting on the edge of the road, with his head turned away. He wears a greworn out uniform. Aenei stops the car. The seated stranger turns around. His features include a moustache and a falling lock of hair over the forehead. Aenei approaches him on the stranger. He sees something resembling a sports in round. Boys in sportswear running: and jumping.
The Stranger: Listen to me. The seeds of souls are born in the heavens and are endowed with firry force – but they are encumbered by their awkward bodies. So, then… Their fire is quenched by their aortal flesh. This is what generates their fear, passion, joy, suffering. This is why from the prison of their body they see no light. They are the slaves of their bodies. They are myriad. Few succeed in developing a sunlit body, and through this evolution to gain immortality. Can you see, there in the distance, those boys. Time will close its circle, long periods will elapse and again their primeval fire will acquire purity. The circular movement of time will measure off ten centuries, The souls will then be called up by waves of the Styx River. They will quaff the dew of immortality. Thus forgetting all they will return under thearch of the sunlit skies. They will desire to become incarnated again. Remember. Only the finest are granted wholeness of soul…
Aenei: Forgive me, if I interrupt you, but it may be that we are fellow-travelers? Here I seek ray father, Anhis The Stranger: The former father… Well, yes, we are fellow travelers. Aenei: I have listened to you with pleasure and I would like… The Stranger: I am from the Zone of t e Twentieth Century. However, the borders of zones are very relative. Concentration. The reverse world. I, myself, have some experience in living here. Occasionally I confuse the future with the past, the present with the future.
Suddenly, Aenei notices that on his left there sits the same Stranger as on his right. The one on the left imitates exactly all the movements of the one on the right. The right one, noticing the left one, shouts. Devil. The police of the Hierarchy. But still I will continue.
Looking out of the corner of his eye on his twin on the left side, he spits three times over his left shoulder. The left one disappears.
The Stranger: So, then l am one of those who made history. I accelerated the crystallization of a dream. I have outrun Time, that is how I come to be here. Within the box of one life-time the poverty of work is revealed. The dirt which has accumulated for centuries cannot be cleaned up in some decades. This is not so simple. Although violence was unpleasant for me, but I realized that: we are on the threshold of a New Era and it will demand a Man of A New Sort, like the Christian or Islamic eras. I awaited a merciless wary to establish in it a New Man. Now I understand, that I fought not only for my fatherland, but for all, and even for those whom I hated. Aenei notices figures scurrying around in striped clothing. Dar blue elongated shadows fall on them.
The Stranger: Humanity is accustomed to identify miracles and crime. Let them say.. Cruelty. Black magic. Nonsense. The world suffocated. And I was given a revelation. You are this Man. Let others curse and lament. I rejoiced. Our Destiny completed its circle. An implacable epoch enveloped the world.
So be it: we have forged it, and we fell as its victims. Now, on the right is an alley. I must ask to stop the car. /Aenei brakes/
Aenei: I thank you.
The Stranger: No, no. It is I who must thank you. Aenei stretches out his hand to the Stranger, but the latter stretches out his own hand somewhat timidly, and Aenei sud¬denly feels that he is squeezing something incorporeal. Aenei: Pardon me…
The Stranger, rising: It doesn’t/t matter. It doesn’t/t matter at all Now, Aenei watches the penumbra-man who walks away; leaving the car behind him, stares into the depth of the forest. He takes a look at the meadow amidst the oaks. There is a company of half transparent shadow-men. Aenei's ex-companion approaches towards them. Aenei can hear their voices, which seem familiar to him. Aenei creeps up to them, hides behind the bush and stares at the faces of those who debate…
One of them, with a Bunch of black hair and a straight beard, is a huge figure of Rasputin and the nearest ones are Nicolas II and Lenin. These are the Russian cell furiously gesti¬culating while arguing. The man/ who used to be Aenei's companion joins the band of Julius Cesar and August, german Field Marshal Manstein and Prime Minister Churchill. The companion is the one with a lock of black hair and the famous stripe of moustaches under the hooked nose. The soul of poor old Fuhrer happened to appear in such a politically concerned society! The shadow-figure of German Field Marshal Manstein notices his Fuhrer and starts trembling with a strange feeling of admiration mixed with the indignation of the strategist — the one who stands face to face to the person guilty of all his might-have-been victories. /Manstein and Hitler begin arguing- with a strong German accent)./
Manstein: I bet Cerber the dog! This is you, ''mein Fuhrer!'
Hitler: Glad to see you/ my ''lieber” Field Marshal though you look this way… Actually you've your Field Marshal's uniform, but I'll have to perform looking so miserable? Burning yourself can't be easily let off even in the Beyond! Anyway, you know that nothing can be as abominable as the fire who which is constantly burning inside of me.
Manstein: Though I guess what you say/ I'd like you to make it clear.
Hitler: I mean my personal prestige, that made me sacrifice the 6-th Army/documentary patterns/.
Manstein: I see. In the Kingdom of Death you won't avoid having a tough talk when you meet those very souls who fell through your fait. It's because of your worthless command, my dear lance-corporal! I can hardly call you Fuhrer in this case.
Hitler: Can you realize who you are speaking to?
Manstein: To a miserable•'Felo-de-se''. That's it.
/Their argument starts dominating the rest of the company. Everyone watches them carefully. The arguing is about to become a real scandal/.
Hitler: What about you?.. You are a trea&fTer/ Manstein!
/everyone laughs/
Manstein: I was too ambitious to follow your frightening experience. Take a look back. Your figure can scare even those who live in our Kingdom of Sorrow. However, during our last lives both of us used to be the Germans, so… let us act more honorably and reputably.
Hitler: Especially in a company of this one /he nods towards Churchill/
At this moment Aenei fokuses on the discussion that has been arisen between two Russians.
Rasputin asks Nicolas II /with Russian accent/
— What are we going to do with this one… ragged scoundrel and actually German spy, Your Allmighty? /Simultaneously he puts his huge peasant’s like hand upon Lenin's bold head/ Lenin makes a move trying to bite Rasputin's huge palm. Nicolas II: Let's listen.
Rasputin to Lenin: Hey, bold-headed. Try to defend yourself and don't make up an exuse… What for did you shoot Tzaritza, her son and daughters? And moreover, you murdered Father the Tzar…, It was you, who did that, syphilitic! /Points with a finger at bullet holes on Tzar's uniform/
/Documentary extracts of Russian Revolution/
Why did you start inconceivable terror in the country? /the swarms of souls begin to sob and wail/
You bloody scoundrel! Why did you wreck and sack a number of churches all over Russia-Mum?/documentary extracts of chur¬ches being ruined/… Lenin starts crossing himself. Rasputin: Aren't you bloody atheist/ Juda?
Lenin/weeping/: This is Trozkiy. He is Juda. I have to repent of all!
One can see tears in the eyes of Nicolas II.
Rasputin: I just thinking for sure it's time again and again… to take the law into my own hands.
Nicolas II: I… I… I want to pardon him/ this devil of the revolution.
Rasputin: Just wait. You are very naive/ Papa! I haven’t excused him yet. Let the man, who comes from folks/ decide. I'm the one – St. George! /He grasps Lenin and, holding him upside-down, drops Lenin's bold head right into the marsh. /Lenin looks Like big old sheat-fish trying to escape. Butit doesn't work/.
Nicolas II /with tears in his eyes and eutreaty in his voice/: Every time is all the same / points to Rasputin persecutes Lenin/ St. George tortures this devil of Revolution!
Meanwhile Manstein's voise gets stronger while he argues with Hitler.
Manstein: Why did you interfere in super wising the armies, lance-corporal? Why did you command to shoot sinking sailors with machine gun fire? You are a jerk, lance-corporal! You failed everything!
How about the tragedy of Stalingrad?.. Or the 6-th Army fortune..
Hitler: No-o-o-o-o! Don't call it up! That's a bloody hell?
Churchil: I'll prove it if you want so.
The foam comes out of Hitler's mouth. He falls down his knees a and furiously crunches Manstein's boot. At this moment Rasputin with a bottle of ''Rasputin” vodka in his hand, starts russian dancing. Lenin's dirty head juts out of bog singing the Revolutionary Hymn. Hitler rushes to hug Julius. The latter silently pushes aside the shadow of x-Fuhrer.
Nicolas II /shrinking/: Phew! What a rotten century! Julius Cesar to August/with italian accent/: Our descendants became really mad/ dear August!
August /acting like an orator/: The mistake of democracy… /his voice gets stronger/,.. To counterbalance the demonismus of the collectivus, anonymous omnipotent finances – the leech-like banks – to counterbalance the mirage of technical po¬wer of machines – the instrument of new slavery – there exists the ideal of aristocracy; our noble rituals of Metaphisical Order and The Holy Traditional Science…
Julius Cesar: What are you talking about?.. Although you are right, August. That is the holy truth. It's so alien to us: it's not even necessary to explain… I'd like the only things -- to help our offspring’s oppose the power of good spirit to that flow of degeneration/ which1; is about to carry away the last sound bodies of Europe…
Hitler rushes to hug Julius again. And the same way the latter silently pushes aside the shadow of x-Fuhrer.
Julius Cesar: There is a smell of fumes here… I don't under¬stand modern people at all. They never experience that primor¬dial deep feeling of catarsis? August: They are not patricians, Au, Julius. Julius Cesar: I know… They are modern Barbarians! Nicolas II: I apologize, ancestors! /suddenly rushes to Churchill/ grabs his collar and pulls him hard, asking…/
— What about my English relatives? What about Russians under your supervisory during Second World's War? What have you done, Stalin's Sneak, with my 70 000 White Cossacks? Didn't you send them to Stalin's massacre, are you? That was present of you to Joseph – Dictator of Europe, for sure…
Hitler: I so hate his cigar!
Rasputin: Nobody interesting about your personal feeling! Rasputin to Nicolas II: Papa, it's time to take the law into my own experience' I'm afraid… Just give that englishman to me!
One can hear the shouts. Rasputin drags Churchill to the marsh. Nicolas II drags a person that spins and rolls. The per¬son bears a strong resemblance to Joseph Stalin. Lenin comments out of bog: Comrad Stalin is not in a hurry to get to conference.
Wathing at long shadows, Aenei realize, that his time, here gone…
From now, Aenei, leaving car behind him, lunges forward, among the figures flying away like a should of fish, passing by the thickets, clutching with their crooked branches the elbows and the lapels of suits. Having clung to the face by a wing/ a bird flew past which looked like an owl.
Branches dug into the clothing with such force that the jackets had to be discarded, and it lay in the thicket like a flattened bird. Above, through the gigantic peaks of the tress a violet sky shone through from under the feet comes rushing with a cackling sound a hog, f or some reason…
Aenei, in his undershirt, scratched and bloody, rushes towards a figurine gleaming behind the trees.
Aenei: Father!
His father turns has head towards Aenei on hearing his name. He is dressed all in whith as he sits on a hill. On the hill stands a tree trunks, an ash bury, a juniper tree. The father returns to his work. A thin streamlet of smoke rises from the fingers squeezing a branch of the juniper tree.
The Father: So, you have come. You have overcome all the difficulties of an insur¬mountable road by dint of your sacred devotion. I hardly expected anything else of you (A bee circles over the head of the old man. It settle down, on his forehead, climbs down his temple. Again I can look at you, and listen, and speak words to you in response. I counted the days. I never stopped hoping, and my wishes were not betrayed having gone through so many dangers, you are again with me. (The bee enters his nostril and disappears there).
Aenei: Give me your hand, Father, do not flee from your son's embraces. (His face was drenched with tears. Thrice he tries to hold his Father in his arms, and thrice the father escapes him like a bodiless shadow.)
Here Aenei saw in the depths of the plain a hidden woody island, covered with thickets under the rustling peaks of trees. Throngs of people could be seen there; they made a humming sound like bees in the woods.
Aenei: What is this river that flows yonder, and what are these people crowding it.
The Father: Those who have gathered here are those who are destined to be reincarn¬ated. (Along the forehead of the old man fall streamlets of honey) and it is they, Aenei, who will become your heirs. The future of this land you can see, but I can set, Little Boy, you have grey hairs on your head and wrinkles on your face. Dear Little So how I would like to kiss you, if I could… (Aenei sees in his Father's mouth honeycomb thence the tees are circling over him). Well, God bless you, and I Must depart…
Aenei: Where are you rushing. off to…
The Father: Well, we have our secrets which we do not share with you mortals. (The vision of the Father vanishes).
At the place, where the ghost of his father has melted, Aenei can see his friend and comrade, brother-in-arms – Palinoor.
Palinoor: why did you come here, Aenei, to the gate of hell and the repository of the deceased? Why? The thread of your life isn't yet torn and Haron hasn’t invited you. Do you want to be the most miserable man alive? You're staying here for too long/ affected by opium or another hallucinogen? Don't waste your time and life playing games in the Kingdom of Death/ my reckless dear friend! Don't be too slow… If you wish/ I'll help you get out of here and show you the way up to the Hell's gate.
Aenei: Every time I see you, my old fellow, I can't even imagine that I'm leaving alone for the Living world – without you! If I'm supposed to leave it, we'll do it together, my friend…
And do not fly away as light shadow!
I came here to find you because I know that only you can be my indispensable adviser and helpmate.
Palinoor: What? I see – there's no common sense left. Poor Aenei doesn't realize what he's doing anymore! How can it be possible? Is that the will of Lord?
Aenei: I remember that I'm a son of Venus! Can you hear me, Mum?!!!
I believe, Pluto have to allow your doubts, Palinoor.
Let’s ran away from here, along shadow like trees, up to the top!
Here hey are running away, passing the bogs, where the mud is mixed the industrial trash. This place reminds of Chernobyl's neighborhood.
Now they are being rushed by Moscow's metro, the channel-tunnel and London's underground at last – immediately – to The Present Time. They've appeared dressed up-to-date.
They jumps across the tussocks of the marshes, they climbs through a «cave» and emerges out of where the light of day greets them.
1980
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