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Seventh Seal, The (1958)

by Ingmar Bergman.

More info about this movie on IMDb.com

FOR EDUCATIONAL PURPOSES ONLY

 
The night had brought little relief from the heat, and at dawn a hot gust of
wind blows across the colorless sea. The KNIGHT, Antonius Block, lies
prostrate on some spruce branches spread over the fine sand. His eyes are 
wide-open and bloodshot from lack of sleep. 

Nearby his squire JONS is snoring loudly. He has fallen asleep where he 
collapsed, at the edge of the forest among the wind-gnarled fir trees. His 
open mouth gapes towards the dawn, and unearthly sounds come from his throat.
At the sudden gust of wind, the horses stir, stretching their parched muzzles 
towards the sea. They are as thin and worn as their masters.

The KNIGHT has risen and waded into the shallow water, where he rinses his 
sunburned face and blistered lips. JONS rolls over to face the forest and the 
darkness. He moans in his sleep and vigorously scratches the stubbled hair on 
his head. A scar stretches diagonally across his scalp, as white as lightning 
against the grime. 

The KNIGHT returns to the beach and falls on his knees. With his eyes closed 
and brow furrowed, he says his morning prayers. His hands are clenched 
together and his lips form the words silently. His face is sad and bitter. He 
opens his eyes and stares directly into the morning sun which wallows up from 
the misty sea like some bloated, dying fish. The sky is gray and immobile, a 
dome of lead. A cloud hangs mute and dark over the western horizon. High up, 
barely visible, a seagull floats on motionless wings. Its cry is weird and 
restless. The KNIGHT'S large gray horse lifts its head and whinnies. Antonius 
Block turns around.

Behind him stands a man in black. His face is very pale and he keeps his 
hands hidden in the wide folds of his cloak. 

			KNIGHT 
	Who are you? 

			DEATH 
	I am Death.

			KNIGHT 
	Have you come for me?

			DEATH 
	I have been walking by your side for a long 
	time. 

			KNIGHT 
	That I know. 

			DEATH 
	Are you prepared?

			KNIGHT
	My body is frightened, but I am not. 

			DEATH 
	Well, there is no shame in that.

The KNIGHT has risen to his feet. He shivers. DEATH opens his cloak to place 
it around the KNIGHT'S shoulders. 

			KNIGHT 
	Wait a moment.

			DEATH 
	That's what they all say. I grant no reprieves. 

			KNIGHT 
	You play chess, don't you?

A gleam of interest kindles in DEATH'S eyes. 

			DEATH 
	How did you know that?

			KNIGHT 
	I have seen it in paintings and heard it sung 
	in ballads.

			DEATH 
	Yes, in fact I'm quite a good chess player. 

			KNIGHT 
	But you can't be better than I am.

The KNIGHT rummages in the big black bag which he keeps beside him and takes 
out a small chessboard. He places it carefully on the ground and begins 
setting up the pieces.

			DEATH 
	Why do you want to play chess with me? 

			KNIGHT 
	I have my reasons. 

			DEATH 
	That is your privilege.

			KNIGHT 
	The condition is that I may live as long as I 
	hold out against you. If I win, you will 
	release me. Is it agreed? 

The KNIGHT holds out his two fists to DEATH, who smiles at him suddenly. 
DEATH points to one of the KNIGHT'S hands; it contains a black pawn. 

			KNIGHT 
	You drew black!

			DEATH 
	Very appropriate. Don't you think so?

The KNIGHT and DEATH bend over the chessboard. After a moment of hesitation, 
Antonius Block opens with his king's pawn. DEATH moves, also using his king's 
pawn.



The morning breeze has died down. The restless movement of the sea has 
ceased, the water is silent. The sun rises from the haze and its glow 
whitens. The sea gull floats under the dark cloud, frozen in space. The day 
is already scorchingly hot.

The squire JONS is awakened by a kick in the rear. Opening his eyes, he 
grunts like a pig and yawns broadly. He scrambles to his feet, saddles his 
horse and picks up the heavy pack.

The KNIGHT slowly rides away from the sea, into the forest near the beach and 
up towards the road. He pretends not to hear the morning prayers of his 
squire. JONS soon overtakes him.

			JONS 
		(sings)
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			JONS 
	Just think how some people will curse you. 

			PAINTER 
	Maybe. But then I'll paint something amusing 
	for them to look at. I have to make a living 
	-- at least until the plague takes me.

			JONS 
	The plague. That sounds horrible.

			PAINTER 
	You should see the boils on a diseased man's 
	throat. You should see how his body shrivels up 
	so that his legs look like knotted strings -- 
	like the man I've painted over there.

The PAINTER points with his brush. JONS sees a small human form writhing in 
the grass, its eyes turned upwards in a frenzied look of horror and pain. 

			JONS 
	That looks terrible.

			PAINTER 
	It certainly does. He tries to rip out the 
	boil, he bites his hands, tears his veins open 
	with his fingernails and his screams can be 
	heard everywhere. Does that scare you?

			JONS 
	Scare? Me? You don't know me. What are the 
	horrors you've painted over there?

			PAINTER 
	The remarkable thing is that the poor creatures
	think the pestilence is the Lord's punishment. 
	Mobs of people who call themselves Slaves of 
	Sin are swarming over the country, flagellating 
	themselves and others, all for the glory of God.

			JONS 
	Do they really whip themselves?

			PAINTER 
	Yes, it's a terrible sight. I crawl into a 
	ditch and hide when they pass by.

			JONS 
	Do you have any brandy? I've been drinking 
	water all day and it's made me as thirsty as a 
	camel in the desert. 

			PAINTER 
	I think I frightened you after all.

JONS sits down with the PAINTER, who produces a jug of brandy.



The KNIGHT is kneeling before a small altar. It is dark and quiet around him.
The air is cool and musty. Pictures of saints look down on him with stony 
eyes. Christ's face is turned upwards, His mouth open as if in a cry of 
anguish. On the ceiling beam there is a representation of a hideous devil 
spying on a miserable human being. The KNIGHT hears a sound from the 
confession booth and approaches it. The face of DEATH appears behind the 
grille for an instant, but the KNIGHT doesn't see him. 

			KNIGHT 
	I want to talk to you as openly as I can, but 
	my heart is empty.

DEATH doesn't answer.

			KNIGHT 
	The emptiness is a mirror turned towards my 
	own face. I see myself in it, and I am filled 
	with fear and disgust. 

DEATH doesn't answer.

			KNIGHT 
	Through my indifference to my fellow men, I 
	have isolated myself from their company. Now I 
	live in a world of phantoms. I am imprisoned in 
	my dreams and fantasies. 

			DEATH 
	And yet you don't want to die. 

			KNIGHT 
	Yes, I do.

			DEATH 
	What are you waiting for? 

			KNIGHT 
	I want knowledge. 

			DEATH 
	You want guarantees?

			KNIGHT 
	Call it whatever you like. Is it so cruelly 
	inconceivable to grasp God with the senses? Why 
	should He hide himself in a mist of half-spoken 
	promises and unseen miracles? 

DEATH doesn't answer.

			KNIGHT 
	How can we have faith in those who believe when 
	we can't have faith in ourselves? What is going 
	to happen to those of us who want to believe 
	but aren't able to? And what is to become of 
	those who neither want to nor are capable of 
	believing?

The KNIGHT stops and waits for a reply, but no one speaks or answers him. 
There is complete silence. 

			KNIGHT 
	Why can't I kill God within me? Why does He 
	live on in this painful and humiliating way 
	even though I curse Him and want to tear Him 
	out of my heart? Why, in spite of everything, 
	is He a baffling reality that I can't shake 
	off? Do you hear me? 

			DEATH 
	Yes, I hear you.

			KNIGHT 
	I want knowledge, not faith, not suppositions, 
	but knowledge. I want God to stretch out His 
	hand towards me, reveal Himself and speak to 
	me. 

			DEATH 
	But He remains silent.

			KNIGHT
	I call out to Him in the dark but no one seems 
	to be there.

			DEATH 
	Perhaps no one is there.

			KNIGHT 
	Then life is an outrageous horror. No one can 
	live in the face of death, knowing that all is 
	nothingness. 

			DEATH 
	Most people never reflect about either death or 
	the futility of life.

			KNIGHT 
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BThe KNIGHT drinks his beer silently.

			JONS 
		(contentedly)
	My little stomach is my world, my head is my 
	eternity, and my hands, two wonderful suns. My 
	legs are time's damned pendulums, and my dirty 
	feet are two splendid starting points for my 
	philosophy. Everything is worth precisely as 
	much as a belch, the only difference being that 
	a belch is more satisfying.

The beer mug is empty. Sighing, JONS gets to his feet. The GIRL follows him 
like a shadow.

In the yard he meets a large man with a sooty face and a dark expression. He 
stops JONS with a roar. 

			JONS 
	What are you screaming about?

			PLOG 
	I am Plog, the smith, and you are the squire 
	Jns. 

			JONS 
	That's possible.

			PLOG 
	Have you seen my wife?

			JONS 
	No, I haven't. But if I had seen her and she 
	looked like you, I'd quickly forget that I'd 
	seen her. 

			PLOG
	Well, in that case you haven't seen her. 

			JONS 
	Maybe she's run off. 

			PLOG 
	Do you know anything?

			JONS 
	I know quite a lot, but not about your wife. Go 
	to the inn. Maybe they can help you.

The smith sighs sadly and goes inside.

The inn is very small and full of people eating and drinking to forget their 
newly aroused fears of eternity. In the open fireplace a roasting pig turns
on an iron spit. The sun shines outside the casement window, its sharp rays
piercing the darkness of the room, which is thick with fumes and
perspiration.

			MERCHANT
	Yes, it's true! The plague is spreading along 
	the west coast. People are dying like flies. 
	Usually business would be good at this time of 
	year, but, damn it, I've still got my whole 
	stock unsold.

			WOMAN 
	They speak of the judgment day. And all these 
	omens are terrible. Worms, chopped-off hands 
	and other monstrosities began pouring out of 
	an old woman, and down in the village another 
	woman gave birth to a calf's head. 

			OLD MAN 
	The day of judgment. Imagine.

			FARMER
	It hasn't rained here for a month. We'll surely 
	lose our crops.

			MERCHANT
	And people are acting crazy, I'd say. They flee 
	the country and carry the plague with them 
	wherever they go. 

			OLD MAN 
	The day of judgment. Just think, just think! 

			FARMER 
	If it's as they say, I suppose a person should 
	look after his house and try to enjoy life as 
	long as he can. 

			WOMAN 
	But there have been other things too, such 
	things that can't even be spoken of. 
		(whispers)
	Things that mustn't be named -- but the priests 
	say that the woman carries it between her legs 
	and that's why she must cleanse herself. 

			OLD MAN 
	Judgment day. And the Riders of the Apocalypse 
	stand at the bend in the village road. I 
	imagine they'll come on judgment night, at 
	sundown.

			WOMAN 
	There are many who have purged themselves with
 	fire and died from it, but the priests say that 
	it's better to die pure than to live for hell.

			MERCHANT 
	This is the end, yes, it is. No one says it out
	loud, but all of us know that it's the end. And 
	people are going mad from fear.

			FARMER
	So you're afraid too. 

			MERCHANT
	Of course I'm afraid.

			OLD MAN 
	The judgment day becomes night, and the angels 
	descend and the graves open. It will be 
	terrible to see. 

They whisper in low tones and sit close to each other.



PLOG, the smith, shoves his way into a place next to JOF, who is still 
dressed in his costume. Opposite him sits RAVAL, leaning slightly forward, 
his face perspiring heavily. RAVAL rolls an armlet out on the table. 

			RAVAL 
	Do you want this armlet? You can have it 
	cheap. 

			JOF 
	I can't afford it. 

			RAVAL 
	It's real silver.

			JOF 
	It's nice. But it's surely too expensive for 
	me. 

			PLOG 
	Excuse me, but has anyone here seen my wife? 

			JOF 
	Has she disappeared? 

			PLOG 
	They say she's run away. 

			JOF 
	Has she deserted you? 

			PLOG 
	With an actor.

			JOF 
	An actor! If she's got such bad taste, then I 
	think you should let her go.

			PLOG 
	You're right. My first thought, of course, was 
	to kill her.

			JOF 
	Oh. But to murder her, that's a terrible thing 
	to do. 

			PLOG 
	I'm also going to kill the actor. 

			JOF 
	The actor?

			PLOG 
	Of course, the one she eloped with. 

			JOF 
	What has he done to deserve that? 

			PLOG 
	Are you stupid?

			JOF 
	The actor! Now I understand. There are too many 
	of them, so even if he hasn't done anything in 
	particular you ought to kill him merely because 
	he's an actor. 

			PLOG 
	You see, my wife has always been interested in 
	the tricks of the theatre.

			JOF 
	And that turned out to be her misfortune. 

			PLOG 
	Her misfortune, but not mine, because a person 
	who's born unfortunate can hardly suffer from 
	any further misfortune. Isn't that true?

Now RAVAL enters the discussion. He is slightly drunk and his voice is shrill 
and evil.

			RAVAL 
	Listen, you! You sit there and lie to the 
	smith. 

			JOF 
	I! A liar!

			RAVAL 
	You're an actor too and it's probably your 
	partner who's run off with Plog's old lady. 

			PLOG 
	Are you an actor too?

			JOF 
	An actor! Me! I wouldn't quite call myself that! 

			RAVAL 
	We ought to kill you; it's only logical. 

			JOF 
		(laughs)
	You're really funny.

			RAVAL 
	How strange -- you've turned pale. Have you 
	anything on your conscience?

			JOF 
	You're funny. Don't you think he's funny? 
		(to Plog)
	Oh, you don't.

			RAVAL 
	Maybe we should mark you up a little with a 
	knife, like they do petty scoundrels of your 
	kind.

PLOG bangs his hands down on the table so that the dishes jump. He gets up.

			PLOG 
		(shouting)
	What have you done with my wife? 

The room becomes silent. JOF looks around, but there is no exit, no way to 
escape. He puts his hands on the table. Suddenly a knife flashes through the 
air and sinks into the table top between his fingers.

JOF snatches away his hands and raises his head. He looks half surprised, as 
if the truth had just become apparent to him.

			JOF 
	Do you want to hurt me? Why? Have I provoked 
	someone, or got in the way? I'll leave right 
	now and never come back.

JOF looks from one face to another, but no one seems ready to help him or 
come to his defense.

				RAVAL 
	Get up so everyone can hear you. Talk louder. 

Trembling, JOF rises. He opens his mouth as if to say something, but not a 
word comes out.

			RAVAL 
	Stand on your head so that we can see how good 
	an actor you are.

JOF gets up on the table and stands on his head. A hand pushes him forward so
that he collapses on the floor. PLOG rises, pulls him to his feet with one 
hand. 

			PLOG 
		(shouts) 
	What have you done with my wife? 

PLOG beats him so furiously that JOF flies across the table. RAVAL leans over
him.

			RAVAL 
	Don't lie there moaning. Get up and dance. 

			JOF 
	I don't want to. I can't.

			RAVEL 
	Show us how you imitate a bear. 

			JOF 
	I can't play a bear.

			RAVAL 
	Let's see if you can't after all.

RAVAL prods JOF lightly with the knife point. JOF gets up with cold sweat on 
his cheeks and forehead, frightened half to death. He begins to jump and hop 
on top of the tables, swinging his arms and legs and making grotesque faces.
Some laugh, but most of the people sit silently. JOF gasps as if his lungs 
were about to burst. He sinks to his knees, and someone pours beer over him. 

			RAVEL 
	Up again! Be a good bear.

			JOF 
	I haven't done any harm. I haven't got the 
	strength to play a bear any more.

At that moment the door opens and JONS enters. JOF sees his chance and steals
out. RAVAL intends to follow him, but suddenly stops. JONS and RAVAL look at 
each other. 

			JONS 
	Do you remember what I was going to do to you 
	if we met again?

RAVAL steps back without speaking. 

			JONS 
	I'm a man who keeps his word.

JONS raises his knife and cuts RAVAL from forehead to cheek. RAVAL staggers 
towards the wall.



The hot day has become night. Singing and howling can be heard from the inn. 
In a hollow near the forest, the light still lingers. Hidden in the grass and
the shrubbery, nightingales sing and their voices echo through the stillness.

The players' wagon stands in a small ravine, and not far away the horse 
grazes on the dry grass. MIA has sat down in front of the wagon with her son 
in her arms. They play together and laugh happily.

Now, a soft gleam of light strokes the hilltops, a last reflection from the 
red clouds over the sea.

Not far from the wagon, the KNIGHT sits crouched over his chess game. He 
lifts his head.

The evening light moves across the heavy wagon wheels, across the woman and 
the child. The KNIGHT gets up.

MIA sees him and smiles. She holds up her struggling son, as if to amuse the 
KNIGHT. 

			KNIGHT 
	What's his name? 

			MIA 
	Mikael.

			KNIGHT 
	How old is he? 

			MIA 
	Oh, he'll soon be two. 

			KNIGHT 
	He's big for his age.

			MIA 
	Do you think so? Yes, I guess he's rather big. 

She puts the child down on the ground and half rises to shake out her red 
skirt. When she sits down again, the KNIGHT steps closer.

			KNIGHT 
	You played some kind of show this afternoon. 

			MIA 
	Did you think it was bad?

			KNIGHT 
	You are more beautiful now without your face 
	painted, and this gown is more becoming.

			MIA 
	You see, Jonas Skat has run off and left us, 
	so we're in real trouble now.

			KNIGHT 
	Is that your husband?

			MIA 
		(laughs)
	Jonas! The other man is my husband. His name is 
	Jof.

			KNIGHT 
	Oh, that one.

			MIA 
	And now there's only him and me. We'll have to 
	start doing tricks again and that's more 
	trouble than it's worth. 

			KNIGHT 
	Do you do tricks also?

			MIA 
	We certainly do. And Jof is a very skillful 
	juggler.

			KNIGHT 
	Is Mikael going to be an acrobat? 

			MIA 
	Jof wants him to be. 

			KNIGHT 
	But you don't.

			MIA 
	I don't know.
		(smiling)
	Perhaps he'll become a knight. 

			KNIGHT 
	Let me assure you, that's no pleasure either. 

			MIA 
	No, you don't look so happy. 

			KNIGHT 
	No.

			MIA 
	Are you tired? 

			KNIGHT 
	Yes. 

			MIA 
	Why?

			KNIGHT 
	I have dull company. 

			MIA 
	Do you mean your squire? 

			KNIGHT 
	No, not him.

			MIA 
	Who do you mean, then? 

			KNIGHT 
	Myself. 

			MIA 
	I understand. 

			KNIGHT 
	Do you, really?

			MIA 
	Yes, I understand rather well. I have often 
	wondered why people torture themselves as often 
	as they can. Isn't that so?

She nods energetically and the KNIGHT smiles seriously. Now the shrieks and 
the noise from the inn become louder. Black figures flicker across the grass 
mound. Someone collapses, gets up and runs. It is JOF. MIA stretches out her 
arms and receives him. He holds his hands in front of his face, moaning like 
a child, and his body sways. He kneels. MIA holds him close to her and 
sprinkles him with small, anxious questions: What have you done? How are you?
What is it? Does it hurt? What can I do? Have they been cruel to you? She 
runs for a rag, which she dips in water, and carefully bathes her husband's
dirty, bloody face.

Eventually a rather sorrowful visage emerges. Blood runs from a bruise on his 
forehead and his nose, and a tooth has been loosened, but otherwise JOF seems 
unhurt. 

			JOF 
	Ouch, it hurts.

			MIA
	Why did you have to go there? And of course you 
	drank.

MIA's anxiety has been replaced by a mild anger. She pats him a little harder 
than necessary. 

			JOF 
	Ouch! I didn't drink anything.

			MIA
	Then I suppose you were boasting about the 
	angels and devils you consort with. People 
	don't like someone who has too many ideas and 
	fantasies.

			JOF 
	I swear to you that I didn't say a word about 
	angels. 

			MIA
	You were, of course, busy singing and dancing. 
	You can never stop being an actor. People also 
	become angry at that, and you know it.

JOF doesn't answer but searches for the armlet. He holds it up in front of 
MIA with an injured expression. 

			JOF 
	Look what I bought for you. 

			MIA 
	You couldn't afford it. 

			JOF 
		(angry)
	But I got it anyhow.

The armlet glitters faintly in the twilight. MIA now pulls it across her 
wrist. They look at it in silence, and their faces soften. They look at each 
other, touch each other's hands. JOF puts his head against MIA'S shoulder and 
sighs.

			JOF 
	Oh, how they beat me.

			MIA 
	Why didn't you beat them back?

			JOF 
	I only become frightened and angry. I never get 
	a chance to hit back. I can get angry, you know 
	that. I roared like a lion.

			MIA
	Were they frightened? 

			JOF 
	No, they just laughed.

Their son MIKAEL crawls over to them. JOF lies down on the ground and pulls 
his son on top of him. MIA gets down on her hands and knees and playfully 
sniffs at MIKAEL.

			MIA 
	Do you notice how good he smells?

			JOF 
	And he is so compact to hold. You're a sturdy 
	one. A real acrobat's body.

He lifts MIKAEL up and holds him by the legs. MIA looks up suddenly, 
remembering the knight's presence. 

			MIA 
	Yes, this is my husband, Jof. 

			JOF 
	Good evening. 

			KNIGHT 
	Good evening.

JOF becomes a little embarrassed and rises. All three of them look at one 
another silently.

			KNIGHT 
	I have just told your wife that you have a 
	splendid son. He'll bring great joy to you. 

			JOF 
	Yes, he's fine.
    
They become silent again.

			JOF 
	Have we nothing to offer the knight, Mia? 

			KNIGHT 
	Thank you, I don't want anything.

			MIA 
		(housewifely)
	I picked a basket of wild strawberries this 
	afternoon. And we have a drop of milk fresh 
	from a cow ... 

			JOF 
	... that we were allowed to milk. So, if you 
	would like to partake of this humble fare, it 
	would be a great honor. 

			MIA 
	Please be seated and I'll bring the food. 

They sit down. MIA disappears with MIKAEL. 

			KNIGHT 
	Where are you going next? 

			JOF 
	Up to the saints' feast at Elsinore. 

			KNIGHT 
	I wouldn't advise you to go there. 

			JOF 
	Why not, if I may ask?

			KNIGHT 
	The plague has spread in that direction, 
	following the coast line south. It's said that 
	people are dying by the tens of thousands.

			JOF 
	Really! Well, sometimes life is a little hard. 

			KNIGHT 
	May I suggest ... 
		(JOF looks at him, surprised)
		... that you follow me through the forest 
	tonight and stay at my home if you like. Or go 
	along the east coast. You'll probably be safer 
	there.

MIA has returned with a bowl of wild strawberries and the milk, places it 
between them and gives each of them a spoon.

			JOF 
	I wish you good appetite. 

			KNIGHT 
	I humbly thank you.

			MIA 
	These are wild strawberries from the forest. I 
	have never seen such large ones. They grow up 
	there on the hillside. Notice how they smell!

She points with a spoon and smiles. The KNIGHT nods, as if he were pondering 
some profound thought. JOF eats heartily.

			JOF 
	Your suggestion is good, but I must think it 
	over. 

			MIA 
	It might be wise to have company going through 
	the forest. It's said to be full of trolls and 
	ghosts and bandits. That's what I've heard.

			JOF 
		(staunchly)
	Yes, I'd say that it's not a bad idea, but I 
	have to think about it. Now that Skat has left, 
	I am responsible for the troupe. After all, I 
	have become director of the whole company.

			MIA 
		(mimics) 
	After all, I have become director of the whole 
	company.

JONS comes walking slowly down the hill, closely followed by the GIRL. MIA 
points with her spoon. 

			MIA 
	Do you want some strawberries?

			JOF 
	This man saved my life. Sit down, my friend, 
	and let us be together.

			MIA 
		(stretches herself) 
	Oh, how nice this is. 

			KNIGHT 
	For a short while.

			MIA 
	Nearly always. One day is like another. There 
	is nothing strange about that. The summer, of 
	course, is better than the winter, because in 
	summer you don't have to be cold. But spring is 
	best of all.

			JOF 
	I have written a poem about the spring. Perhaps 
	you'd like to hear it. I'll run and get my lyre. 

He sprints towards the wagon.

				MIA 
	Not now, Jof. Our guests may not be amused by 
	your songs.

			JONS 
		(politely) 
	By all means. I write little songs myself. For 
	example, I know a very funny song about a 
	wanton fish which I doubt that you've heard yet. 

The KNIGHT looks at him.

			JONS 
	You'll not get to hear it either. There are 
	persons here who don't appreciate my art and I 
	don't want to upset anyone. 2Ld_H8op_Q0D,LZ@4&:vL"*]ۨT&vtJ#	!C|YRtL!(&`T.s$DӤ+01wbPd #X	r/	1
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whiten. TYAN leans forward and joins her gaze with his. 

			TYAN 
	Look into my eyes.

The KNIGHT meets her gaze. They stare at each other for a long time.

			TYAN 
	What do you see? Do you see him?

			KNIGHT 
	I see fear in your eyes, an empty, numb fear. 
	But nothing else.

He falls silent. The soldiers work at the stakes; their hammering echoes in 
the forest. 

			TYAN 
	No one, nothing, no one? 

			KNIGHT 
		(shakes his head)
	No.

			TYAN
	Can't you see him behind your back? 

			KNIGHT 
		(looks around) 
	No, there is no one there. 

			TYAN 
	But he is with me everywhere. I only have to 
	stretch out my hand and I can feel his hand. He 
	is with me now too. The fire won't hurt me. He 
	will protect me from everything evil.

			KNIGHT 
	Has he told you this? 

			TYAN 
	I know it.

			KNIGHT 
	Has he said it?

			TYAN 
	I know it, I know it. You must see him 
	somewhere, you must. The priests had no 
	difficulty seeing him, nor did the soldiers. 
	They are so afraid of him that they don't even 
	dare touch me.

The sounds of the hammers stops. The soldiers stand like black shadows rooted 
in the moss. They fumble with the chains and pull at the neck iron. TYAN 
moans weakly, as if she were far away.

			KNIGHT 
	Why have you crushed her hands? 

			SOLDIER
		(surly) 
	We didn't do it. 

			KNIGHT 
	Who did? 

			SOLDIER
	Ask the monk.

The soldiers pull the iron and the chains. TYAN'S shaven head sways, gleaming 
in the moonlight. Her blackened mouth opens as if to scream, but no sound 
emerges. They take her down from the cart and lead her towards the ladder and 
the stake. The KNIGHT turns to the MONK, who remains seated in the cart. 

			KNIGHT 
	What have you done with the child? 

DEATH turns around and looks at him. 

			DEATH 
	Don't you ever stop asking questions? 

			KNIGHT 
	No, I'll never stop.

The soldiers chain TYAN to the rungs of the ladder. She submits resignedly, 
moans weakly like an animal and tries to ease her body into position.

When they have fastened her, they walk over to light the pyre. The KNIGHT 
steps up and leans over her. 

			JONS 
	For a moment I thought of killing the soldiers, 
	but it would do no good. She's nearly dead 
	already. 

One of the soldiers approaches. Thick smoke wells down from the pyre and 
sweeps over the quiet shadows near the crossroads and the hill.

			SOLDIER
	I've told you to be careful. Don't go too close 
	to her.

The KNIGHT doesn't heed this warning. He cups his hand, fills it with water 
from the skin and gives it to TYAN. Then he gives her a potion.

			KNIGHT 
	Take this and it will stop the pain.

Smoke billows down over them and they begin to cough. The soldiers step 
forward and raise the ladder against a nearby fir tree. TYAN hangs there 
motionlessly, her eyes wide open.

The KNIGHT straightens up and stands immobile. JONS is behind him, his voice 
nearly choked with rage. 

			JONS 
	What does she see? Can you tell me? 

			KNIGHT 
		(shakes his head) 
	She feels no more pain. 

			JONS 
	You don't answer my question. Who watches over 
	that child? Is it the angels, or God, or the 
	Devil, or only the emptiness? Emptiness, my 
	lord!

			KNIGHT 
	This cannot be.

			JONS 
	Look at her eyes, my lord. Her poor brain has 
	just made a discovery. Emptiness under the 
	moon. 

			KNIGHT 
	No.

			JONS 
	We stand powerless, our arms hanging at our 
	sides, because we see what she sees, and our 
	terror and hers are the same. 
		(an outburst) 
	That poor little child. I can't stand it, I 
	can't stand it ...

His voice sticks in his throat and he suddenly walks away. The KNIGHT mounts
his horse. The travelers depart from the crossroads. TYAN finally closes her 
eyes.



The forest is now very dark. The road winds between the trees. The wagon 
squeaks and rattles over stones and roots. A bird suddenly shrieks.

JOF lifts his head and wakes up. He has been asleep with his arms around 
MIA's shoulders. The KNIGHT is sharply silhouetted against the tree trunks.

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travelers stand confused. PLOG rushes forward and begins to pull at SKAT'S hands. 

			PLOG 
	Oh dear, dear, I didn't mean it that way! Look, 
	there's no life left in him. I was beginning to 
	like him, and in my opinion Lisa was much too 
	spiteful. 

JOF leans over his colleague.

			JOF 
	He's dead, totally, enormously dead. In fact, 
	I've never seen such a dead actor.

			LISA 
	Come on, let's go. This is nothing to mourn 
	over. He has only himself to blame.

			PLOG 
	And I have to be married to her. 

			JONS 
	We must go on.

SKAT lies in the grass and keeps the dagger pressed tightly to his breast. 
The travelers depart and soon they have disappeared into the dark forest on 
the other side of the meadow. When SKAT is sure that no one can see him, he 
sits up and lifts the dagger from his breast. It is a stage dagger with a 
blade that pushes into the handle. SKAT laughs to himself.

			SKAT 
	Now that was a good scene. I'm really a good 
	actor. After all, why shouldn't I be a little 
	pleased with myself? But where shall I go? I'll 
	wait until it becomes light and then I'll find 
	the easiest way out of the forest. I'll climb 
	up a tree for the time being so that no bears, 
	wolves or ghosts can get at me.

He soon finds a likely tree and climbs up into its thick foliage. He sits 
down as comfortably as possible and reaches for his food pouch.

			SKAT 
		(yawns) 
	Tomorrow I'll find Jof and Mia and then we'll 
	go to the saints' feast in Elsinore. We'll make 
	lots of money there. 
		(yawns)
	Now, I'll sing a little song to myself: 
		(sings) 
	I am a little bird 
	Who sings whate'er he will, 
	And when I am in danger 
	I fling out a pissing trill 
	As in the carnal thrill.
		(speaks)
	It's boring to be alone in the forest tonight. 
		(sings) 
	The terrible night doesn't frighten me ... 

He interrupts himself and listens. The sound of industrious sawing is heard 
through the silence.

			SKAT 
	Workmen in the forest. Oh, well! 
		(sings)
	The terrible night doesn't frighten me ... 
		(speaks)
	Hey, what the devil ... it's my tree they're 
	cutting down.

He peers through the foliage. Below him stands a dark figure diligently 
sawing away at the base of the tree. SKAT becomes frightened and angry.

			SKAT 
	Hey, you! Do you hear me, you tricky bastard? 
	What are you doing with my tree?

The sawing continues without a pause. SKAT becomes more frightened.

			SKAT 
	Can't you at least answer me? Politeness costs 
	so little. Who are you?

DEATH straightens his back and squints up at him. SKAT cries out in terror.

			DEATH 
	I'm sawing down your tree because your time is
	up.
 
			SKAT
	It won't do. I haven't got time.

			DEATH 
	So you haven't got time. 

			SKAT 
	No, I have my performance. 

			DEATH 
	Then it's canceled because of death. 

			SKAT 
	My contract.

			DEATH 
	Your contract is terminated. 

			SKAT 
	My children, my family. 

			DEATH 
	Shame on you, Skat! 

			SKAT 
	Yes, I'm ashamed.

DEATH begins to saw again. The tree creaks. 

			SKAT 
	Isn't there any way to get off? Aren't there 
	any special rules for actors?

			DEATH 
	No, not in this case. 

			SKAT 
	No loopholes, no exceptions? 

DEATH saws.

			SKAT
	Perhaps you'll take a bribe. 

DEATH saws.

			SKAT
	Help!

DEATH saws.

			SKAT 
	Help! Help!

The tree falls. The forest becomes silent again.



Night and then dawn.

The travelers have come to a sort of clearing and have collapsed on the moss.
They lie quietly and listen to their own breathing, their heartbeats, and the 
wind in the tree tops. Here the forest is wild and impenetrable. Huge 
boulders stick up out of the ground like the heads of black giants. A fallen 
tree lies like a mighty barrier between light and shadow.

MIA, JOF and their child have sat down apart from the others. They look at 
the light of the moon, which is no longer full and dead but mysterious and 
unstable. The KNIGHT sits bent over his chess game. LISA cries quietly behind 
PLOG'S back. JONS lies on the ground and looks up at the heavens.

			JONS 
	Soon dawn will come, but the heat continues to 
	hang over us like a smothering blanket.

			LISA 
	I'm so frightened.

			PLOG 
	We feel that something is going to happen to 
	us, but we don't know what.

			JONS 
	Maybe it's the day of judgment. 

			PLOG 
	The day of judgment ...

Now, something moves behind the fallen tree. There is a rustling sound and a 
moaning cry that seems to come from a wounded animal. Everyone listens
intently, all faces turned towards the sound. A voice comes out of the
darkness. 

			RAVAL 
	Do you have some water?

RAVAL'S perspiring face soon becomes visible. He disappears in the darkness, 
but his voice is heard again. 

			RAVAL 
	Can't you give me a little water? 
		(pause) 
	I have the plague.

			JONS 
	Don't come here. If you do I'll slit your 
	throat. Keep to the other side of the tree. 

			RAVEL 
	I'm afraid of death.

No one answers. There is complete silence. RAVAL gasps heavily for air. The 
dry leaves rustle with his movements. 

			RAVEL 
	I don't want to die! I don't want to!

No one answers. RAVAL'S face appears suddenly at the base of the tree. His 
eyes bulge wildly and his mouth is ringed with foam.

			RAVAL 
	Can't you have pity on me? Help me! At least 
	talk to me.

No one answers. The trees sigh. RAVAL begins to cry. 

			RAVAL 
	I am going to die. I. I. I! What will happen to 
	me! Can no one console me? Haven't you any 
	compassion? Can't you see that I ...

His words are choked off by a gurgling sound. He disappears in the darkness 
behind the fallen tree. It becomes quiet for a few moments.

			RAVAL 
		(whispers) 
	Can't anyone ... only a little water. 

Suddenly the GIRL gets up with a quick movement, snatches JONS'S water bag 
and runs a few steps. JONS grabs her and holds her fast.

			JONS 
	It's no use. It's no use. I know that it's no 
	use. It's meaningless. It's totally 
	meaningless. I tell you that it's meaningless. 
	Can't you hear that I'm consoling you? 

			RAVEL 
	Help me, help me!

No one answers, no one moves. RAVAL'S sobs are dry and convulsive, like a 
frightened child's. His sudden scream is cut off in the middle. Then it 
becomes quiet.

The GIRL sinks down and hides her face in her hands. JONS places his hand on 
her shoulder.


16
The KNIGHT is no longer alone. DEATH has come to him and he raises his hand.

			DEATH 
	Shall we play our game to the end? 

			KNIGHT 
	Your move!

DEATH raises his hand and strikes the KNIGHT'S queen. Antonius Block looks at 
DEATH. 

			DEATH 
	Now I take your queen. 

			KNIGHT 
	I didn't notice that.

The KNIGHT leans over the game. The moonlight moves over the chess pieces, 
which seem to have a life of their own.

JOF has dozed off for a few moments, but suddenly he wakens. Then he sees the 
KNIGHT and DEATH together. He becomes very frightened and awakens MIA. 

			JOF 
	Mia!

			MIA 
	Yes, what is it?

			JOF 
	I see something terrible. Something I almost 
	can't talk about.

			MIA 
	What do you see?

			JOF 
	The knight is sitting over there playing chess. 

			MIA 
	Yes, I can see that too and I don't think it's 
	so terrible. 

			JOF 
	But do you see who he's playing with? 

			MIA 
	He is alone. You mustn't frighten me this way.

			JOF 
	No, no, he isn't alone. 

			MIA 
	Who is it, then?

			JOF 
	Death. He is sitting there playing chess with 
	Death himself.

			MIA 
	You mustn't say that. 

			JOF 
	We must try to escape. 

			MIA 
	One can't do that.

			JOF 
	We must try. They are so occupied with their 
	game that if we move very quietly, they won't 
	notice us. 

JOF gets up carefully and disappears into the darkness behind the trees. MIA 
remains standing, as if paralyzed by fear. She stares fixedly at the KNIGHT 
and the chess game. She holds her son in her arms. Now JOF returns.

			JOF 
	I have harnessed the horse. The wagon is 
	standing near the big tree. You go first and 
	I'll follow you with the packs. See that Mikael 
	doesn't wake up.

MIA does what JOF has told her. At the same moment, the KNIGHT looks up from
his game. 

			DEATH 
	It is your move, Antonius Block.

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	the dark, stormy sky. They are all there. The 
	smith and Lisa and the knight and Raval and 
	Jns and Skat. And Death, the severe master, 
	invites them to dance. He tells them to hold 
	each other's hands and then they must tread the 
	dance in a long row. And first goes the master 
	with his scythe and hourglass, but Skat dangles 
	at the end with his lyre. They dance away from 
	the dawn and it's a solemn dance towards the 
	dark lands, while the rain washes their faces 
	and cleans the salt of the tears from their 
	cheeks. 

He is silent. He lowers his hand. His son, MIKAEL, has listened to his words.
Now, he crawls up to MIA and sits down in her lap. 

			MIA 
		(smiling) 
	You with your visions and dreams.
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