MARS
Now I can feast me to my full content,
And then, a little while, I shall have rest.
(Exit Mars. There is another pause and silence while it gradually becomes lighter. Men and women are heard groaning, and, in the pale, eerie light, weird moth-like figures, like ghosts of the dead, flit here and there across the field. When it becomes light enough to see, all the world is changed. Flowers, fruit, produce are gone. The wagon that held the grain is now filled with corpses. On the ground are the sick and wounded, bandaged. The women waiting on them are lean, ragged, haggard. A few children are huddled together in silent terror. The scene is blackened as if by fire. On the steps of The World Inn sits The Old Mother, as in the beginning.)
A WOMAN
The dawn is nearly here, the strange grey dawn!
ANOTHER WOMAN
What bodes it now? Sunset or dawn or noon
Are all alike to those who have seen hell
And bear in body and soul the brand of sorrow.
THE OLD MOTHER,
’Twas even as I feared and as I spoke.
So was it, children, in my younger days,
The days that I can nevermore forget.
(She rises and hobbles toward the wounded men.)