The Eighth Tribe, 1976 (3. évfolyam, 1-12. szám)
1976-06-01 / 6. szám
Page 6 THE EIGHTH TRIBE June, 1976 (looking in the distance) He is still playing... he is still trapped by his own “Joker”.... (meaningfully) Well? What is your answer? KOVATS You are sure of that hidden path, “Lieutenant”? LIEUTENANT I’m a master at reconnaisance, Commander! KOVATS You are sure that it will be victory? LIEUTENANT A gem of a victory, Commander! KOVATS Fair enough! LIEUTENANT You agree, then? KOVATS I said: fair enough! LIEUTENANT As expected. And now, if I may, I shall accept that glass of wine you’ve offered earlier, Commander, he picks up the glass of wine Sweet ? KOVATS dry — should it make any difference to you.... LIEUTENANT To our alliance! his lips touch the glass and he offers it to Kovats LIEUTENANT mere formality.... KOVATS (after tasting it, amazed) sweet... LIEUTENANT like victory, Commander Kovats, like victory. Kovats empties the glass and puts it back on the table LIEUTENANT Well, the bargain so gallantly executed, I see no reason further to arrest your thoughts. Remember, Sir, that your men should leave no later than the second call of the Watchman. KOVATS LIEUTENANT At midnight. And now, may I bid you a phenomenal victory and a paragraph in the history books under: “American Revolution” and “American-Hungarian”, Commander? he vanishes. Offstage, the distant call of the Watchman is heard again: WATCHMAN (offstage) Oh-oh-oh-oh oh-oh-oh-oh tifne........... KOVATS (looking up) One hour to midnight. What dreary night. Dark and silky and treacherous and hiding a thousand wounds in her dark robe. All is silent. Only the wind is howling and the dogs. Man is quiet. on the distant horizon an orange light rises Halt! Who’s there! Anyone crossing the lines over there? music rises, distant and melancholic; wonderingly and overcome Kovats turns toward the light (the music may be Kodály’s “Dunán innen, Tiszán tul” from Hary Janos) KOVATS The sun! How extraordinary! A midnight sun. Of course! how foolish of me— it is the sun rising beyond the ocean... Since the world is sharing, but one sun, day must be breaking over there ... and my village, for some reason my village has the most unusual appearance this morning.... I wonder why.... ? as if passing on the far-side of a transparent veil of memory, we see young men and women move away in slow motion. They are dressed in embroidered, colorful Hungarian peasant costumes. KOVATS It is solemn, almost dignified... the girls are wearing their embroidered skirts and the men stopped swearing.... (as if suddenly remembering) Well, it is Sunday! as planned.
