Gibran Stories Omnibus

beloved in the sky. The heart of
everywoman creates a being in space.
     
      Mary : (Repeating softly as if to herself) Have I a beloved in
the sky?
     
      Lazarus : I do not know. But if you had a beloved, an other
self, somewhere, somewhen, and you should meet him, surely there would
not be one to separate you from him.
     
      The Madman : He may be here, and He may call her. But like
many others she may not hear.
     
      Lazarus : (Coming to the centre of stage) To wait, to wait for
each season to overcome another season; and then to wait for that
season to be overcome by another; to watch all things ending before
your own end comes-your end which is your beginning. To listen to all
voices, and to know that they melt to silence, all save the voice of
your heart that would cry even in sleep.
     
      The Madman : The children of God married the children of men.
Then they were divorced. Now, the children of men long for the children
of God. I pity them all, the children of men and the children of God.
     
     (A silence)
     
      Martha : (Appearing in the doorway) Why don't you come into
the house, Lazarus? Our mother has prepared the supper. (With a little
impatience) Whenever you and Mary are together you talk and talk, and
no one knows what you say.
     
     (Martha stands for a sew seconds, then goes into the house.)
     
      Lazarus : (Speaking to himself, and as though he has not heard
Martha) Oh, I am spent. I am wasted, I am hungry and I am thirsty.
Would that you could give me some bread and some wine.
     
      Mary : (Going to him and putting her arm around him) I will, I
will, my brother. But some into the house. Our mother has prepared the
evening meal.
     
      The Madman : He asks for bread which they cannot bake, and
wine for which they have no bottles.
     
      Lazarus : Did I say I was hungry and thirsty? I am not hungry
for your bread, nor thirsty for your wine. I tell you I shall not enter
a house until my beloved's hand is upon the latch of the door. I shall
not sit at the feast till she be at my side.
     
     (Mother peers from the house door.)
     
      Mother : Now, Lazarus, why do you stay out in the mist? And
you, Mary, why do you not come into the house? I have lit the candles
and the food is upon the board, and yet you will stay out babbling and
chewing your words in the dark.
     
      Lazarus : Mine own mother would have me enter a tomb. She
would have me eat and drink and she would even bid me sit among
shrouded faces and receive eternity from withered hands and draw life
from clay cups.
     
      The Madman : White bird that flew southward where the sun
loves all things, what held you in mid-air, and who brought you back?
It was your friend, Jesus of Nazareth. He brought you back out of pity
for the wingless who would not be along. Oh, white bird, it is cold
here, and you shiver and the North wind laughs in your feathers.
     
      Lazarus : You would be in a house and under a roof. You would
be within four walls, with a door and a window. You would be here, and
you are without vision. Your mind is here, and my spirit is there. All
of you is upon the earth; all of me is in space. You creep into houses,
and I flew beyond upon the mountaintop. You are all slaves, the one to
the other, and you worship but yourselves. You sleep and you dream not;
you wake but you walk not among the hills. And yesterday I was weary of
you and of lives, and I sought the other world which you call death,
and if I had died it was out of longing. Now, I stand here at this
moment, rebelling against that which you call life.
     
      Martha : (Who has come out of the house while Lazarus was
speaking) But the Master saw our sorrow and our pain, and He called you
back to us, and yet you rebel. Oh, what cloth, rebelling against its
own weaver! What a house rebelling against its own builder!
     
      Mary : He knew our hearts and He was gracious unto us, and
when He met our mother and saw in her eyes a dead son, buried, then her
sorrow held Him, and for a moment He was still, and He was silent.
(Pause) Then we followed Him to your tomb.
     
      Lazarus : Yes, it was my mother's sorrow, and your sorrow. It
was pity, self-pity, that brought me back. How selfish is self-pity,
and how deep. I say that I rebel. I say that divinity itself should not