A tranquil countryside setting bathed in bright afternoon light. A line of gentle hills leads off into the blue distance. At the base of an embankment, enclosed by bushes, lies a pond. In the background, a piece of yellow sky. A sign with the words “No swimming.”
Sitting with his back to the audience, a fishing rod in one hand and a piece of paper in the other, is ADAM, a man of 40 or so, dressed very properly and neatly. He lifts the rod out of the water, checks there’s not a fish on the hook, and casts the line again. Right as he does so, there is a big splash. ADAM puts the fishing rod aside, leans over the railing and shouts.
ADAM: Excuse me, there’s no swimming here.
Because the splashing sounds don’t stop, ADAM takes off his shoes and jacket and climbs down the embankment.
EVA’S VOICE: Let go of me! What are you thinking?
ADAM’S VOICE: Can’t you read? No swimming allowed in this pond.
EVA’S VOICE: I didn’t want to . . .
ADAM’S VOICE: So what did you want to do?
EVA’S VOICE: That’s none of your business. Let go!
ADAM’S VOICE: No!
They both appear on the embankment, dripping wet, and sit down side by side with their backs to the audience.
EVA: Can’t be left in peace even to die.
ADAM: Ah, so you wanted to die.
EVA nods. Drops of water from her wet hair hit ADAM’s face. ADAM reaches into his pants pocket and hands her a soaking wet handkerchief.
ADAM: I’m afraid you won’t be able to dry yourself off with this. (Pause.) I’m an amateur angler, you see.
EVA: So am I supposed to thank you now?
ADAM: No, no, that’s not necessary.
EVA: And what, in your opinion, am I supposed to do with myself now? I wrote two farewell letters. I can hardly just show up again and say the whole thing was a mistake. How would that look?
ADAM: You’re right, that wouldn’t really be possible.
EVA (shivering in her wet dress): I’m so glad you recognize that.
ADAM: You ought to have at least taken your clothes off first; then you’d be dry now.
EVA: Please don’t be rude!
Pause.
ADAM: If you don’t mind my asking, why did you go in there, actually?
EVA: You think you have the right to interrogate me? Just because you interfered in my private affairs?
ADAM (offended): Forgive me.
Pause.
EVA: Love.
ADAM: I beg your pardon?
EVA: I mean, it had to do with a man.
ADAM: A man you didn’t get?
EVA: Oh, I very much did!
ADAM: I don’t understand. (Pause.) What kind of a man was he?
EVA: A poet, Boxer.
ADAM: He was a boxer too?
EVA: No, that was his name.
ADAM: But a person only kills themselves for love if they don’t get someone.
EVA: It was so horribly ugly, and I’d imagined it would be so beautiful. I don’t really have anyone, parents or anything. Why did you pull me out? At least in there you can have some peace and quiet.
Pause.
ADAM: But you’re still so young.
EVA: You can go ahead and ask—I’m 21.
ADAM: You’ve got your whole love ahead of you, as it were.
EVA: As it were.
ADAM: There are also people who aren’t nasty.
EVA: But somehow one only ever meets the other ones.
ADAM: And there are ideals it’s worth living for.
EVA: Are you a poet too—or a pastor?
ADAM: No.
Pause.
EVA: I bet my aunt is already ordering her mourning hat.
ADAM: Now you’re, as it were, cut off from before. There’s no going back. You have no obligations at all toward the person you used to be. You’re leaving the bridegroom standing before the church holding his top hat. The table is set for supper, but you won’t be taking your seat. You’ve signed out.
EVA: As it were. And what will become of me now, my knight in shining armor, my Lohengrin?
ADAM: I don’t object to being compared with him.
EVA: You have to admit you’ve taken certain obligations upon yourself.
ADAM: I’m not disputing that.
EVA: Would you like to actually introduce yourself now? Or should I call you Lohengrin?
ADAM: My name is Adam. That’s my last name. Leopold Adam.
EVA: Leopold Adam. Adam’s your last name? My name is Eva. That’s my first name. Leopold—a terribly silly name; but I like it. And I know why. When we were children and played tag, we’d call a tree or a fence post Leopold. If you put your hand on the Leopold, you couldn’t be tagged. Nothing could happen to you. He was some old saint—the area I’m from is Catholic—for what that’s worth. (Before he realizes what she’s doing, she very quickly stretches her hand out toward him, touches him three times, and says eagerly like a small child.) Here’s Leopold, Leopold, Leopold.
ADAM: Don’t, that tickles! (Pause.) You’re going to start a new life, Miss Eva. I shall endeavor to give that life content and direction.
EVA: Do you have a stove?
ADAM (irritated): Where?
EVA: Not on you, I mean in the place where you want to take me.
ADAM: A big green tile stove.
EVA: Are the tiles round? With those warm green bumps?
ADAM: Yes, one like that.
EVA: I like those.
ADAM: There will come a time when you won’t understand how you could have been so reckless with your own life, which after all doesn’t belong to you.
EVA: Who else might it belong to?
ADAM (forcefully): The world at large.
EVA: Hmm.
ADAM: And you’ll relearn how beautiful life is for a person who fulfills their role.
EVA: Really, as beautiful as that?
ADAM: And you’ll see the mountains, and the sky, and the stars.
EVA: At night.
ADAM: Well of course, at night.
EVA: I didn’t mean to offend you. But you really can’t see them during the day, Mr. Leopold. Why is it that when people want to comfort you, they always talk about general things that don’t cost anything. I’d like to also get something from life. (Pause.) You know, so far it really hasn’t been very nice.
ADAM: One day you’ll be grateful to me for having saved you against your will.
EVA: Perhaps.
ADAM: Look how peaceful it is now. That pale yellow sky; the sheep look like clouds.
EVA: Like a book again. (Pensive.) Maybe it really would be hard to deal with if you were dead and something important happened. Well, if nothing better shows up, the fish pond isn’t going anywhere.
ADAM: You won’t come back here, Eva!
EVA: I hope not, Mr. Leopold.
