Finally the minister shows up and expresses his shock at what he hears. There is no longer any doubt that everything going on here is a criminal conspiracy. And then, Petr is brought a bowl of poisoned cookies and will be forced to eat them. Julie keeps trying to silence him and leave as quickly as possible before they kill him. Petr, however, is determined not to back down.
They can kill me. I don’t care. Can one live in a place where criminals go unpunished? Where powerful criminals protect murderers, and the others beg for a part of the loot?
To Petr’s astonishment, the minister applauds. At the conclusion of the play, which until then seems to be nothing more than black humor, I express my fear that everything that happens in society is only a cunning attempt to preserve felonious power.
The minister explains to Petr why he is applauding:
MINISTER: I am applauding your justice, which spares no one. (
Loudly
) Justice that spares no one is necessary. Yes — how many times have I tormented myself with this question?
PETR: But I, I am accusing you. You are murderers!
MINISTER: Am I guilty of anything? Sometimes I think, yes, I am guilty of a great love for you, my children. That blinded me. And you (
to the others
), didn’t you come here like lambs? Did you not hold out your hands? Did you not declaim your thanks? And now these accusations, their sting, strikes me here! (
Grabs his heart
)
At the end, when those who have consumed the poison along with those who are supposed to investigate the murder sing insane songs, the pastry chef who prepared the poisonous cookies lifts the rebellious Petr onto his shoulders while the minister proclaims:
But I applaud you nevertheless. (
To Petr
) I applaud your justice and devotion. I applaud your incorruptible longing for pureness, which makes no distinctions. We need youth and pureness. We need those who are able to give precedence to a bed beneath the arch of a bridge instead of a bed that is considered tainted. We need those who are able to speak out about crimes so that evil, which is necessary, does not become a custom. We need those who do not divide but rather unite. We were united in the longing to help you find a home. And we were united in the impact of your angry words. We feel ourselves guilty, for who is innocent? (
The others applaud
.) And who would not, once in a while, like to hear that he is not alone in his longing, or even in his guilt? Young man, we need you on our team! Come to the sweetshop Myriam every Thursday at eight o’clock and shout out at the top of your voice. (
He raises his hand to Petr and presses it
.) Repeat those beautiful, cleansing words you pronounced today. Thank you!
The play ends with a funeral procession for another victim. The criminals who hide behind beautiful words need jesters to help create the impression that we are living in freedom because while crimes are being identified, the criminals are going without punishment and continue their activity.
I offered the play to the journal Plamen but the editors turned it down. No theater would stage it. The criminals who soon took power no longer needed their jesters.
*
Literární listy was now actually making a profit, and so it was no problem to hire several more editors. My wife and I could finally take a vacation. As long as I’d known her, Helena longed most of all to better know life in Israel. She put together a group of her colleagues and acquaintances and organized a working trip to the Shomrat kibbutz. She also decided to take along Michal. I didn’t feel like going anywhere to work, and I was also enticed by the idea of spending a few days with Olga. Helena couldn’t convince me to come along. She departed, and I decided to set off for England, which I had liked on my earlier trip. What’s more, Mr. Darling offered me his apartment in Hampstead; he was currently in Prague and I would be spending the whole summer on the Continent (this is how the Britons refer to the less significant part of Europe). So I would have the flat all to myself. He entrusted his keys to me along with the name and address of his neighbor with whom I could leave the keys when I left.
Somewhat abashed, I suggested to Olga a trip to Britain. She didn’t understand why I hadn’t chosen Italy, since I could go wherever I wanted, but she admitted that she’d never been to Britain and could stand a couple of days there.
Before I left, I went to say goodbye to my parents, and Father wanted to know why I was taking a vacation right now of all times. I explained that I was tired and needed to be somewhere far away and not think about politics and not attend meetings every night with my fellow citizens.
Father said he understood, but in fact he assumed that I actually wanted to be out of the reach of the Soviet police when the Russians invaded. He suggested I take the car and as many things along with me as I could. My mother led me into the bedroom and almost in a whisper complained that ever since Father had been locked up, he was always expecting the worst. I shouldn’t let him ruin my vacation. Then, counter to what she had just said, she softly asked me to be careful what I wrote about and not to see friends such as Vaculík and Kohout. I had to realize that people, and definitely the Soviets, were looking at them and at me in completely different ways.
Even though Father’s prediction somewhat shocked me, I did not follow his advice. Although I did go by car, I took only enough belongings for a two-week trip.
Our daughter, Hana, who was five years old at the time, was staying with Helena’s parents nearby, and when I went to say goodbye to her, I was weighed down by unease. Father’s prediction was certainly possible, if not probable, and to leave a child at this time seemed like a betrayal. But I persuaded myself nothing would happen. After all, just a few days ago the Soviet leaders had agreed with our leaders that everything would be resolved peacefully and amicably
When I’d first visited London about a year earlier, I had been alone and was therefore master of my own plans. Now I had Olga with me (she didn’t speak any English), and I felt a responsibility to show her a good time. I assumed she’d be interested in seeing some galleries, so I took her to the famous Tate, but she seemed bored by it. It wasn’t that she minded walking among all those paintings; it was more that my presence was somehow a nuisance. I was a man from another world, with other interests and other desires, who assumed he had a greater claim to her than anyone else she might choose.
Just as we left the gallery, she noticed a group of beatniks sitting on the sidewalk drinking beer and smoking what I guessed was marijuana. I saw that Olga wanted only one thing: for me to leave her alone so she could sit with them, go off somewhere, and spend an interesting night.