The Salvation of Faust

Characters:

Lucifer

Faust

Angel

(Lucifer appears in a darkened room. He looks suave and well-groomed. Rain drums on the window, and from time to time the interior of the room is lit by lightning from outside.

(There is a bed, and someone asleep.

(L walks to the bed.)

L	What have we here?
	How comfortable he seems!
	A soft bed, and a soft life.
	A modest abode (by my standards),
	But many would kill for this—
	And yet he frowns!
	A man of some intelligence, of some accomplishment. But he frowns.
	Bah!
	I’d like to send him out with nothing but the shirt on his back,
	To sleep in frozen doorways and grasp at rags
	To hold his precious animal warmth; and watch every shadow that passes,
	Fearful of its intent.
	Bah!
	(Throws open a window. A cold howling wind rushes into the room, and L retreats to a dark corner.)
F	What’s this!
	(Leaps out of bed and closes the window. Turns suddenly.)
	Who’s there?
L	Well, I didn’t come all this way to play charades.
	(Steps out of the darkness.)
	You know who I am.
F	Indeed I do not! I think you are a thief — and probably an accomplished one, if your impertinence means anything. What do you want? Take anything. Take my life! It is of little value.
L	Spare me.
	(Angel appears, clad in white robes.)
A	A thief he is.
F	My God!
A	(Bowing slightly) I am but His Messenger.
L	Ha!
A	(To L) Enough! Be gone with you!
L	Be serious.
F	And he is . . . ? (Looking at L)
A	That one? Satan.
L	And what is that supposed to mean? I have a name! You don’t like to use it, do you?
F	A name?
L	Lucifer, of course.
	(F sits heavily on the bed.)
F	This is too much. How did you get into my room? What do you want?
L	The question is, what do you want? You called us.
F	I’m sure I did no such thing.
A	We must give the devil his due. You did call.
F	I . . . I . . .
L	Yes, yes, we know. Why can’t your kind simply make up its mind? Why do you waste your time with this endless fence-sitting?
F	I must be dreaming.
L	I don’t have time for this.
A	Then go!
L	Listen, Faust. You have gone as far as you can. You must choose.
F	Choose?
L	Perhaps your mind is so empty because it leaks through your gaping mouth.
	(F closes his mouth.)
A	You must choose between us. That is the answer to your call.
	(F gets up, leans on the window sill, and looks into the night.)
F	There is no answer.
	If I called, it wasn’t for either of you. I called for Death.
L	Poor boy. Conscience trouble?
	(F continues to gaze out the window.)
F	If Satan you are, or Lucifer,
	You can not understand.
	I am but a mortal man,
	And having lived beyond my time,
	Have nothing left.
L	Except, of course, a posh home and plenty of money.
F	Take it. It wearies me.
L	I think you’d be weary without it.
A	My son, I understand.
	(F turns to gaze at A, who seems to glow under his gaze.)
F	Then take me. I have no desire to live another day!
A	Your time has not arrived, my son.
	(F bows his head.)
A	And I can not tell you when it will. No man may know that.
F	Then what shall I live for?
	(L lights a cigarette and blows a stream of smoke into the air.)
L	This is going to be a long night.
A	That’s a nasty habit! It’s sinful. It cheapens the gift of life.
L	One of the benefits of being immortal.
	(Sends a stream of smoke toward A, who waves it away, scowling.)
	So, tell us, Faust. What’s the big tragedy?
	(A laughs grimly.)
A	Nothing that would mean anything to the Prince of Darkness! This man has lost all he loved. His wife, to another man. His daughter, to an early death. And his son to principle and passion.
L	You mean the ingrate won’t speak to him. I’m aware of all this.
	I am, as you say, a Prince.
	So what’s the problem, Faust?
	It’s humiliating to be a cuckold,
	But not the end of the world.
	The boy will come ’round eventually,
	Once he has tasted something of life
	And forgets himself.
	The girl of course is gone.
	But she died young
	And there’s less to miss.
	Into each life a little rain must fall.
	Get over it.
F	My God, but you’re cold.
A	He does not understand love, my son. His heart is as empty as the sky, as cold as the night. No warmth will ever touch him. We can pity him.
L	Wasted. What is there to understand?
A	The truth, foul spawn.
L	Ah!
	The Messenger-boy has knowledge of truth? I spoke nothing but truth. It is you who would blind everyone.
	(A scowls and opens his mouth to reply, but F interrupts.)
F	Are you two going to argue all night? What about me?
A	Open your heart, my son. Open your heart to the God of Love.
	(F says nothing. He looks at A with a stricken expression.)
	(L grins.)
L	Now, there’s the rub! He can’t.
	(F buries his face in his hands.)
L	And in the darkness of this room, with the world fast asleep and only his terrors for company, he cannot lie.
	So, Faust, the money means nothing?
A	My son, we read your heart.
L	Yes, Faust—
	I know you.
	You want to stand on your own,
	Not like a cow held up by the herd,
	Whose brown eyes see only the brown ass of another,
	And stare at it without seeing, while its fate is prepared
	By others who will prod it, weigh it,
	Then crush its skull.
	That’s the life of the herd. I see you shudder.
	Not for you, eh? Then gird thyself!
	Wash away this muck of sentiment!
	Open your eyes. Open your mind.
	Stand above the herd.
	Though it’s a dangerous pose, the view is so much better!
	And when the herd scatters and is lost,
	You will not lose your soul with it.
A	No, you do not want to lose your soul!
	Open your heart! Your eyes are blind!
L	If they were, we would not be having this conversation in such luxury.
A	The Lord provides;
	Remember the lilies of the field.
	Your heart has been closed,
	And that has made you suffer.
	You have wandered away. It is time to return.
L	Have I been talking to myself?
F	(Whispers)  . . . I’m so alone. I don’t want to die alone.
A	I am always with you, if your heart is open.
L	Rubbish. Every mortal dies alone.
F	Better to put a bullet through my brain now.
A	Don’t talk that way!
	(L flops into a chair and blows a few smoke rings.)
L	You know, Faust, I didn’t think you were such a coward.
	Talk about cheapening the gift of life!
A	Open your heart! I will be with you.
F	(Frowning) I thought you said you were God’s Messenger. Did you not?
	(L chuckles unpleasantly.)
A	Well . . . yes, my son.
F	Yet, you speak as though assuming the guise of the Almighty Himself.
L	Go ahead, Gabe. Tell him.
F	Tell me what?
A	(Shaking his head) Ignore him! He is the great Tempter. He does not have your best interests at heart. The Lord has.
	Dear Faust, you know why you suffer.
	Your wife, your son, even your daughter.
	It might have been different. It should have been different.
L	What are you talking about? He didn’t kill her.
	(A says nothing, but gazes intently, hypnotically, at F. F stares back at him.)
F	(Whisper) It’s true. I did kill her.
L	(Rolling his eyes) Natural causes!
	Or—  (Glancing sideways at A) Maybe unnatural ones?
A	Watch your mouth, black demon! Before you are struck dumb!
L	It would take a bigger man than you, messenger-boy!
	(A’s face darkens, and he hurls a thunderbolt at L. The smoke clears. L is grinning in his chair. He flicks away his cigarette, which hits the floor in a spurt of green flame.)
	(F pulls at his hair.)
F	It’s true! It’s true! I always knew it. She didn’t want to live!
L	Then she wasn’t fit to live.
	(F chokes and covers his face.)
L	(Lights another cigarette) It happens. Birth defect.
	(F rushes at L in fury. L lifts a finger. F is frozen in mid-stride.)
L	Come, come! There are worse things than dying in bed of a short illness, attended hand and foot by physicians and nurses. (He drops his finger. F falls to the floor, then picks himself up.)
F	But not by me.
L	(Gazing at F speculatively) No . . . not by you. (Flicks ash from his cigarette and glances at A.) Up to your usual standard. Split him open like a grape.
A	You see, dear Faust, how he torments you.
	(L flicks his cigarette across the room. It hits a wall and disappears in another flare of green.)
L	Torment! Torment! And just what is it you’re doing?
A	Helping him to cleanse his soul.
L	Cleanse my immortal ass! I know what you do to his kind! (Leans towards A and hisses) You cripple them! That’s what you do, and when they’re ready you empty their heads and add them to your collection of zombies!
A	Why . . . !
	(L leaps to his feet. A and L advance on each other.)
F	Stop!!
	What in the name of God is the matter with you?
	(L laughs and goes back to his chair.)
L	Quite right. Quite right.
A	My son,
	No matter what the scurvy creature says,
	You were wrong.
	You hurt her mortally,
	And you knew you were hurting her
	At the time. You can’t deny it.
F	I don’t deny it. It’s true.
A	It was sin. And sin demands its wage.
F	(Whispers) The wages of sin are death.
A	And you see that you are living a kind of death, every day.
F	Yes.
	(L settles in his chair, lighting another cigarette.)
L	All right, Faust. You were wrong. It’s painful, I suppose. But haven’t you learned anything?
F	(Shrugs lifelessly) Much good it does now.
L	Well, you’re depressed. But not stupid. Learn your lesson. What’s done is done. Life goes on. You have done great things. Great things lie ahead.
F	Impossible!
L	(Shrugs) Suit yourself.
F	(Laughs) How can I be great? My wife lives with another man!
L	You know, Faust, I think I will let you in on a secret. Three of them, in fact.
A	What do you think you’re doing?
	(L puts a hand up by the side of his mouth, points a finger at A, and whispers loudly enough for all to hear.)
L	He isn’t who he says he is!
F	What!
A	Damn you!
L	It’s been tried.
F	But . . . who are you?
	(A is silent.)
L	Well come on, Gabe. You can lie, or tell the truth. What’s it going to be?
F	Who? Who?
A	I am not really an angel. I am not a messenger.
F	Then — who? Tell me!
	(A seems to straighten and grow taller, his voice a little deeper)
A	I am . . . God.
F	What?!
G	The Almighty.
L	He exaggerates.
F	But . . . but . . . why do you pretend?
L	He’s embarrassed!
F	Embarrassed! God?
L	(Snickers) Well, wouldn’t you be?
	But see here, Faust. Here you have the real articles, right in your boudoir. Your personal counselors.
F	Why me?
L	Ah! That’s the third secret. We’re not there yet.
G	But your wife, Faust.
F	Damn her!
G	Faust!
F	I am sorry! But I can’t help it. There is such a thing as loyalty! Honesty. She betrayed me. I can’t help how I feel.
L	(Muttering) Actually, you can.
G	You neglected her.
F	I know! I know! I neglected everyone!
G	You will have no peace until you forgive her.
F	Never!
L	Peace is overrated. You should kill her.
G	I wish I could kill ou!
L	And her paramour.
F	(Looking horrified) How can you suggest it!
L	Better men than you have done it. And women, for that matter.
F	(To G) Why did you create him?
	(G doesn’t answer.)
L	(Laughing) That’s the second secret!
G	Faust, this is serious. She wronged you, but you are partly to blame.
F	I know.
G	It could have been different.
L	No.
	Suppose he had been the perfect husband, affectionate, caring, blah, blah. She would have become bored with him and shacked up with someone in the end.
	For spite, for a change of pace.
F	For once, I agree with you.
G	Don’t listen to him. He’ll lead you astray.
F	I certainly have no intention of killing anyone! If that’s what worries you.
G	You will never have peace, as long as this cancer eats at your heart.
F	And how deeply it gnaws!
L	Well, you have only yourself to blame, Faust.
F	Ah! Now you turn on me!
L	Oh, grow up. The first mistake was yours, and yours alone.
F	Oh?
L	You married her.
F	(Pauses)  . . . Yes. I did that. I married her. How right you are! But how was I to know?
L	A question you neglected to ask when the answer might have mattered.
F	Neglected? Neglected? I think I was reckless indeed! I was in love!
L	There you go!
G	You were in lust. Not love.
F	No! It was not just lust. She was everything to me! She was my life.
G	That was earthly love. Love of the flesh.
F	But it was love of the spirit!
G	Spiritual love would not rot with jealousy.
F	Then I don’t know what love is!
L	Don’t trouble yourself. It’s only homesickness.
G	Must you cheapen everything?
	(F walks to the window and peers into the night.)
G	Do you hear me, Faust? Spiritual love is not jealous!
F	Maybe it is homesickness.
	(L smirks.)
G	Don’t let him rob you! Don’t let him pull you down to his level!
	(F turns back to them.)
F	Maybe it is homesickness.
	But a part of life, for us mortals at least!
	Yes, it was my mistake to marry her.
L	Another lesson learned.
F	But the pain is not less.
L	Then you won’t soon forget.
F	No. I won’t forget.
L	But I’ll never understand why you don’t just outgrow it. This homesickness.
G	Because it is a spark of the divine.
L	(Blows a smoke ring) Don’t flatter yourself.
F	Whatever it is, we can’t escape it.
G	It is folly to try. Love is the only truth.
F	. . . The only truth? But how can that be?
	The rain and wind break against this thin pane of glass
	That was placed here by the hand of a builder
	Who understood the truth of glass,
	And concrete, and steel.
G	And think how easily that glass is broken.
	Love is placed in your heart by the hand of a Builder,
	Who understands a greater Truth.
F	Think how easily my heart was broken!
G	That love was inferior.
F	I and my family — or what’s left of it —
	Are protected from this night,
	And yet I can not grasp any Great Truths.
	Only small ones, and cosmic ones.
	Debits and credits. Quantum electrodynamics. Protease inhibitors.
G	All flawed and temporary.
F	Of course. Because I am human. As you are well aware.
	What else did you intend?
G	Excuse me?
F	What did you intend?
G	What do you mean?
F	Did you not create us? Our faculties?
	Did you not put us on this Earth?
	What did you intend?
L	You can chase that rabbit for the rest of your life, and still come up empty-handed. Take my word for it.
F	But He is right here! He can answer!
L	When this night is over, you will know that he can not.
	(There is a flash as G hurls another thunderbolt. F is knocked to the ground. As before, L is untouched and smiling.)
L	Temper! You’ll scorch the furniture. It’s quite expensive.
G	I should not have to put up with you!
L	If I went away, you would beg me to return.
G	I’ll take you up on that. Why don’t we start?
L	If I went that far, I couldn’t hear you beg.
	Besides, I like it here.
	(F stumbles to his feet, and gazes at his open hands.)
F	What am I to do about my son?
G	Forgive him.
F	I could do that, although he has made me his enemy in every way.
	I could forgive him, because he is all I have left.
L	Kick him out. He is ungrateful and behaves badly.
F	It would be justice! But I would lose him forever.
L	Then good riddance.
F	No, it would not be.
L	Do you think it will be better to crawl to him? He will spit on you! As would any successful primate.
G	Better to be hated than consumed with hate!
L	Better to be indifferent!
F	That is not in my power.
L	You haven’t tried hard enough.
F	(Smiling) I haven’t tried at all.
L	Well, give it a go. What have you to lose? Unhappiness? Pain?
F	Precious commodities.
L	Plagues that poison your sleep!
F	There is meaning in them.
L	There is meaning in the medicine you have created! The suffering you have erased! The light you have brought to the ignorant! This little hovel that allows you to contemplate the storm in comfort!
F	Of course.
L	Bah! If you’re bored, there are plenty of challenges to test your puny wit.
	Why don’t I erase this pretentious home,
	And all of your neighbors? You can wrestle for existence
	Like your evolutionary forebears —
	Although they were intelligent enough to choose
	More habitable climes.
F	(Smiles again) I would succeed.
	Unless you erased my mind as well. What apes lack is not opposable thumbs, but the power of their frontal lobes to conquer their testicles.
L	True enough. How does it feel to be a god?
	Pretty miserable, it seems.
	(Suddenly restless, F paces the room.)
F	No. Not at all.
G	My son, you suffer.
F	And I would suffer in the cold and rain,
	As do my less successful evolutionary brethren.
	Apes will huddle for warmth
	And perhaps find shelter,
	And so would I.
	But when the sun came out, I would not rest
	Until I could once again see the storm as background,
	As scenery.
	It would be a hard battle —
	And perhaps futile at my age!
	But it would mean something.
	(Looks out the window, hands clasped behind his back.)
	Something that my son does not grasp—
	That every turn of the battle means something.
	The sleepless nights, the work,
	The fear of overlooking some crucial fact,
	The will to overcome every obstacle;
	And finally — exultation! Joy
	When the idea you sweated blood over
	Actually . . . works!
	It is something he has not had to learn.
	He is incomplete.
	I had forgotten this. I have been too comfortable.
L	(Smirking) You’re welcome!
G	You deceive yourself, my son. These are illusions. They can not fill your heart.
L	Heart, shmart. What’s the point?
G	Emptiness is the point! He struggled mightily, wrought great works, and now stands empty, surrounded by munificence.
F	Because I am old.
	But — I would not have it otherwise.
	A cosmic conundrum, don’t you think?
	Nothing matters, if it is only given.
	I would be a thief! — before I’d stand in a dead man’s shoes,
	No matter how pretty.
G	(Ominously) This is not a joking matter. Your immortal soul hangs in the balance.
F	I am not laughing.
	But, now that you mention it, I do have a question about that.
G	(Turning away) I can’t discuss it.
L	Really, Faust. The only conundrum is this ridiculous homesickness.
	How can you be sure that ungrateful brat
	Is even yours? Considering the ways
	Of your dear betrothed,
	He might be anyone’s!
	And here you wring your hands over his enmity. Pathetic.
	The joke’s on you, my dear fellow.
G	Will you stop at nothing to spread hate and discontent?
L	There’s nothing wrong with a little discontent. You know, Faust, those apes you sneer at would have no trouble in this situation. A cuckolded chimpanzee would simply eat the son and find another woman. Several, in fact.
F	So I’ve read. He would also find himself cold, wet, and shivering the next time it rained.
L	Not if he had enough women. Chimps have sex ten times a day, you know.
F	I doubt they even remember what happened.
L	They don’t seem to mind.
F	Of course not! It would be futile. Discontent with their lot would work against the survival of chimps. But it is the source of life in humans.
G	And of suffering!
F	We are not chimps. We have the intelligence to understand our actions.
G	Which is why there is guilt.
F	Indeed.
L	If you’re all so damned intelligent, why are you so guilty?
F	Because it’s all so complicated!
	Surely it’s time for another secret?
G	Secret?
F	(Pointing to L) Why did you make him?
	(L cackles and slaps his knee. G remains silent.)
L	He didn’t! You see? He is not so Almighty after all!
F	But . . . then . . . who . . . ?
	(At that moment a ray of sun pierces the room. F turns to the window.)
F	Ah! The whole night is passed! A new day comes!
	(He turns back. The room is empty. He is holding a cigarette. He looks at it, then stubs it out in an ashtray.)
F	The third secret. I should have guessed.
	Well!
	Then I am free, for the time being.
	The first thing is,
	To find my son.
	(He leaves the room.)
	(Curtain)