WITCH. If you step aside a little, you'll find your maid—while the hall is being put in order.

OLD LADY. [Going out to the right] Think of it—I am going to have a maid, too! You know, madam, that was the dream of my youth—which never came true.

WITCH. There you see: "What youth desires, age acquires." [She blows a whistle]

Without curtain-fall, the stage changes to represent the bottom of a rocky, kettle-shaped chasm. It is closed in on three sides by steep walls of black rock, wholly stripped of vegetation. At the left, in the foreground, stands a throne. At the right is a platform for the musicians.

A bust of Pan on a square base stands in the middle of the stage, surrounded by a strange selection of potted plants: henbane, burdock, thistle, onion, etc.

The musicians enter. Their clothing is grey; their faces are chalk-white and sad; their gestures tired. They appear to be tuning their instruments, but not a sound is heard.

Then comes the LEADER OF THE ORCHESTRA.

After him, the guests of the ball: cripples, beggars, tramps. All are pulling on black gloves as they come in. Their movements are dragging; their expressions funereal.

Next: The MASTER OF CEREMONIES, who is really THE OTHER ONE—a septuagenarian dandy wearing a black wig which is too small for him, so that tufts of grey hair appear underneath. His mustaches are waxed and pointed. He wears a monocle and has on an outgrown evening dress and top-boots. He looks melancholy and seems to be suffering because of the part he has to play.

The SEVEN DEADLY SINS enter and group themselves around the throne as follows:

PRIDECOVETOUSNESS
LUSTANGER
GLUTTONYENVY
SLOTH

Finally the PRINCE enters. He is hunchbacked and wears a soiled velvet coat with gold buttons, ruffles, sword, and high boots with spurs.

The ensuing scene must be played with deadly seriousness, without a trace of irony, satire, or humour. There is a suggestion of a death-mask in the face of every figure. They move noiselessly and make simple, awkward gestures that convey the impression of a drill.

PRIDECOVETOUSNESS
LUSTANGER
GLUTTONYENVY
SLOTH

PRINCE. [To the MASTER OF CEREMONIES] Why do you disturb my peace at this midnight hour?

MASTER OF CEREMONIES. Always, brother, you are asking why. Have you not seen the light yet?

PRINCE. Only in part. I can perceive a connection between my suffering and my guilt, but I cannot see why I should have to suffer eternally, when He has suffered in my place.

MASTER OF CEREMONIES. Eternally? You died only yesterday. But then time ceased to exist to you, and so a few hours appear like an eternity.

PRINCE. Yesterday?