In Due Time

Article Index


SALATHE. Next, of selfishness, called by you individuality. Your selfish ways drive poisoned roots deep into others, shaming especially the women who come into your lives. Lo! but these are treated by you as so many servants—how past time for them to cast dirt back into your faces!
CHORUS. Thou shall not use others for thine own pleasure or whim.
SALATHE. And next, of cynicism, called by you realism. Thou wretched lot, thou knowst full well the plights of this nation and this beloved earth, but yet act not to save your brother or your self! What graver evil than not to know and love in proper proportions both one's self and the moment of life given unto him; not to rage against injustices and the ravaging of nature, but to retreat into thine own self instead and mock the coming doom!
CHORUS. Thou shall not withdraw and be inflamed with self-pity.
SALATHE. And last, of self-contempt, called by you nothing since you know it not. The angels pity your guilt, for thusly do all your sins derive. The man of inner peace and acceptance lives and climbs in full knowledge of his place and worth, uncaring of his precious "image." Pity the man who knows not himself and knows not his own self-hate.
CHORUS. Thou shall know and respect thyself first, and thence will all things follow in just and rewarding ways.

The face glows in silence, seemingly waiting for a reply.
LEADER, shaking. Will there be ... time . .. for.. a . . rebuttal? More confidently. Haven't you heard? In youth is the salvation of the world! No issues do we flee. Our women will be liberated! Social ills incinerated! Listen all! We climb not for glory! Inner peace, creative release, life force, unselfish course, natural reflections, mind projections, nourishment and wonderment, pertinent and reverent. A lightning bolt reduces him to ashes. His followers scamper for cover.
ROBBINS, with acceptant tone. We are all guilty, and many others not here tonight.
SALATHE, firmly. Their skins may yet be burned from their backs. For now, trust that they will suffer from an inner hell.
ROBBINS. But we are here to end the game forever.
ROPER. Speak for yourself, Royal. To SALATHE. I see no joke here, no game. But just one question, put in all humility: by what authority do you . .. Lightning crashes into the ground around ROPER, setting several bushes ablaze.