FIRST STRONGMAN (shouting): All’s
well that begins well and ends soon afterwards!
SECOND STRONGMAN: There will be no end to this
opera. We will thereby astound the
universe!!
FS (shouting): There will be
no going back!
SS (whispering): Or forward.
FS (pointing proudly): You
see our muddy airship? We built it
on credit. The sun offered us
cash, but we wanted to glide softly amid the winking stars of mounting debt.
SS: At which point everything became unexpectedly cautious. Our resolve failed.
FS (resigned): Now we breathe
the emptiness of the moon.
SS (even more resigned): No
more no less.
FS (suddenly animated): You can’t
stand it either? Then shake off
the blades of sculptural moonlight and find another way to wash yourself!
SS (encouragingly): The way
millions of others have done.
FS (comforting): You’ll be
alright, you black multitudes. You
sit there in fat velvet chairs, watching us shoot at the past with our
poet-revolvers. Your heads are
narrow and your sighs are made of stone.
SS (ingratiatingly): Go
ahead, pick any fight with us—or with him!
FS: Or with him!
SS (reassuring): Do it in this pebbled dark. In this dry garden with its iron
roses. Long live this lunar darkness! It will take you home again. You will have warm suppers with knives
and forks.
FS (shouting): And don’t
forget to leave your windows open!
(curtain)