The rain is falling in sheets on a massive ruined gate, to wherever is lost now to the fruits of war, destruction, and chaos. It stands mightily, perhaps forty feet tall and twice that in length. Stone stairs lead up to an expansive dry space. You run out of the rain up its steps and into its shelter.

You are drying your face with your handkerchief when you find you are not alone.

"I don't...I just don't understand it," a voice mutters. "I just don't understand." You follow the sound of the voice. There are two men here. They sit, facing the rain. One is tall with a near shaved head and ragged black robes with a forlorn expression on his face. The other is a shorter, more compact man, wearing a small stocking cap and his face down between his folded arms in weariness. You join them, sitting next to the man with his face in his arms.
 
 

The Woodcutter's Perspective

 

"What's wrong?" you ask him. "What don't you understand?" Somehow you know it was he who spoke.

He looks up at you. He is an older man with a beard, early forties perhaps.

"I've never heard of anything so strange," he says, distantly, looking to the rain.

"Why don't you tell me about it?" you ask him. You look to the other man. "Well, it's good we have a priest, he even looks smart," you say.

The priest's attention comes to you slowly. "Even abbot Konin of Kiyoman Temple... even he wouldn't understand this," he says, his voice low and infused with youth.

"Then, you know something about this story?" you ask.

"I've heard it with my ears, seen it with my eyes, today."

"Where?"

"In the prison courtyard," he says.

"The prison?"

"A man's been murdered," he says.

"So what? Only one?" you say, recoiling slightly with an amused expression on your face. After the things you've seen in the past few years... Nothing surprises anymore. "Why, on the top of this gate, there's always 5 or 6 bodies. No one worries about them," you say to the priest. You take off your rain-soaked tunic.

"You're right," the priest says, head slightly down and staring off into space. "War, earthquake, wind, fire, famine, plague... Yes, each year is full of disasters." He wipes his face.

You wring the water from your well-worn tunic as you watch him.

"And now, every night, the bandits descend upon us," the priest continues. "I, for one, have seen hundreds of men dying like animals, but even I've never heard of anything as terrible as this."

The cap-wearing man looks up at him.

The priest returns his glance. "Horrible, it's horrible. There's never been anything as terrible as this."

You doubt it, but you are curious.

"Never. It's worse than fires, wars, epidemics, or bandits.

You've had enough. "Look here priest, let's not have any sermons," you say, annoyed. "I only wanted to hear this story to keep out of the rain. I'd just as soon listen to the rain than to your sermon." You leave their presence for a moment, pulling loose wooden fixtures from the massive gate structure.

The capped man comes running over to you as you squat, breaking wood into smaller pieces to build a fire. "Well, maybe you can tell me what it means," he says, looking down on you. "I don't understand it, all three of them."

"What three?"

"Well, it's those that I wanted to tell you about," he says, squatting down.

"Don't get so excited," you say, patting him. "This rain won't stop for awhile." You look up at the sky, your eyes coming to rest on the sign above the gate, 'Rashomon'."

"Three days ago, I'd gone to the mountains for wood."
 
 

  The Priest's Perspective

  The Woodcutter's Perspective

 

I tramp through the forest, my small ax slung over my shoulder. The sunlight seeps in through the forest canopy. I am walking and walking and I find this wide-brimmed hat and veil resting on a branch. I look around for the owner, but I don't see anyone. I just leave it and keep on walking. I keep down the path. Then I come across a man's hat lying in the trail. So, I pick that up and keep walking. Then I find ropes, broken rope. I look off to my left and in a glade I see something glittering, something ornate. I press on, but trip. Then I see him. The body just sits there, twisted and contorted. I scream and run the other way, dropping everything.

I run off as fast as I can to tell the police.
 
 

"That was three days ago. Then I testified to the police."
 
 

I kneel in the enclosed police courtyard. "Yes, yes sir," I say. "It was I who first found the body. What? A sword or anything? No, nothing at all. Only a woman's hat, caught on a branch. And a man's hat that had been trampled on. And a piece of rope. And, farther along, an amulet case with red lining. Yes, sir, that was all I saw, I swear to it."

The priest testified next, taking his turn to kneel before the magistrate, while I sit and watch in the background. "Yes, I saw the murdered man while he was still alive," the priest says. "It was about three days ago, in the afternoon on the Sekiyama-Yamashina road."
 
 

The Priest's Perspective

 

The priest says he is walking along the forested-road when he encounters two people, a woman mounted on a horse and a man walking beside, guiding it. "She had a veil on her hat. I couldn't see her face. The man was armed. He had sword, bow and arrows. I never thought I'd see him again, then to see him dead... But it's true, life is delicate, fleeting as the morning dew. But what a shame, that he should have died like that." The priest cups his hands and bows his head.

Then a policeman comes before the magistrate in a light tunic and black hat, a bound prisoner beside him. The policeman bows deeply.
 

"Yes, I caught Tajomaru," the policeman says. "The one that everyone talks about," he says, smiling and proud. "Yes, this is the same bandit, Tajomaru, your honor! When I finally caught him, he was dressed like he is now." The bandit had a length of cloth tied around his neck and down to his waist. "And he carried that Korean sword!" The policeman bows again. He is very pleased, indeed. "It was dusk, two days ago, by the riverbank at Katsura." He says he walked along and came across Tajomaru, collapsed on the riverbank and a horse drinking nearby. "There were 17 arrows with feathers, a bow, and a horse. And they all had belonged to the murdered man. Just imagine Tajomaru being thrown by the horse he stole! It was retribution."
 

Then Tajomaru seems to awake from his daze and turns to face the policeman with an insane laugh. "Retribution?" he says. "Don't be stupid! On that day while I was riding that horse, I suddenly got thirsty. So near Osakapan I had a drink. There must have been something in that stream because after a few hours I began to feel quite ill," he snarls. "Soon, I could bear it no longer. I got off the horse to lay down." Again, he bursts into the insane laugh at the policeman. "And you thought I'd fallen, that's a pretty stupid idea! It's the truth. I know you'll kill me sooner or later! I'm not hiding anything. It was me, Tajomaru, who killed that man. It was on a hot afternoon that I saw them. All of a sudden there was this cool breeze. If it hadn't been for that breeze, I might not have killed."
 

He says he is resting against a tree when he first sees the man and the mounted woman. He thinks nothing of it as they pass by him...until the woman's veil lifts on a breeze. "Just a glimpse, then she was gone. I thought I'd seen an angel. I decided I'd take her, even if I had to kill the man! But, if I could do it without killing, all the better. So, I decided not to kill, but to get the woman alone. The road to Yamashina was hardly the place, though." The bandit hurries after the two, coming up behind them.
 

"What do you want?" the man says.

The bandit calmly goes around the horse to look at the woman.

"What do you want?" the man repeats, louder this time.

The bandit squats down in the road in front of them.

"What is it?!"

The bandit makes as if he is going back the other way, then draws his sword. He swipes at the man and starts laughing wildly at him.

The man partially draws his sword from its sheath and stands ready.

"Isn't this nice?" the bandit says. He holds the sword into the sunlight. "Look! Isn't this nice?" He approaches the man. "Here, look at it," he says, holding the hilt of the sword out towards the man.

The man doesn't move.

"Over there, I found this tomb with lots of things in it." He points back down the road. "I broke it open. Inside I found swords, daggers, mirrors... I buried them all in the woods. Only I know where they are. If you're interested, I might sell some cheap." He holds out the sword again.

The man returns his sword fully to its sheath and takes the blade. He turns it over a few times in the sunlight, examining it.

Time passes. The woman sits beside a trickling stream with the horse, while Tajomaru leads the man off. As they go along through the foliage, Tajomaru draws his sword and laughs as the man steps back and prepares to draw his own sword. The bandit then starts hacking a way through the brush. The man cautiously follows.

Finally, "It's over there," Tajomaru says.

"Walk ahead of me," the man says. They continue for a time.

"Well, it's over there," Tajomaru says again, pointing with his sword, then sheathing it.

The man walks ahead of Tajomaru to the place he has pointed to.

Tajomaru comes up behind him and knocks him to the ground. They struggle. Time passes. Tajomaru comes running and laughing through the forest, his victory complete. He approaches the woman. Suddenly serious. "Your husband, he's been bitten by a snake!"
 
 

Tajomaru continues to tell his story before the magistrate. "She turned pale and stared as if her eyes were frozen. She looked like a child turned suddenly serious. Her look made me jealous of that man. I started to hate him. I wanted to show her how he looked, tied up like that. I'd not thought of such a thing before, but now I did."
 
 

He says he takes her through the forest to where her husband is. Her hat is lost. They come to him. Without warning, the woman draws a knife from the sash about her waist and comes at Tajomaru. He jumps and dodges and plays with her.
 
 

"She was fierce, determined."
 
 

Finally, she collapses, crying. As he grabs her, she tries one last time to kill him, but he avoids the knife. After a brief struggle, he kisses her. She puts her arms around him and returns his affection.
 
 

Tajomaru lets loose with his laugh before the magistrate. "And so I had her, and without killing her husband. Besides, I hadn't planned to kill him. But, then..."
 
 

Having got what he wanted, Tajomaru walks away, but the woman chases after him.

She falls at his feet. "Wait! Stop, one of you must die! Either you or my husband!" The bandit and the husband glare at each other. "Either you or he must die! To be doubly disgraced, disgraced before two men is more than I can bear. I will belong to whoever kills the other."

Tajomaru goes back and cuts the man's bonds and gives him back his sword.

The man draws it in one swift motion and begins a furious attack. The two duel back and forth, jabbing, parrying. Then the man falls into the copse of trees and laughing, Tajomaru finishes him.
 
 

"I wanted to kill him honestly," Tajomaru tells the magistrate, "since I had to kill him. He fought really well, we crossed swords 23 times. No one ever crossed swords with me more than 20 times. But then I killed him. What? The woman? Oh, her! She wasn't around. Probably got frightened and ran away. She must have been really upset. Returning down the path, I found the horse grazing there. About that woman, it was her temper that interested me. But she turned out just like any other. I didn't even look for her. What? His sword? I sold it and drank up the money. Her dagger? I remember it looked valuable, some kind of inlay in it. Know what I did? I forgot about it. How foolish. The biggest mistake I ever made!" He goes into wild laughing.
 
 
 
 

You yawn and stretch. The fire you made is waning now. "Tajomaru, he's famous for that sort of thing," you say. "He's worse than all the other bandits in Kyoto.  Why last fall, a young girl and her maid went off to the temple. They were found murdered there afterwards. He must have done that too." You get up and walk over to near the priest to break off some more wood. "They say the woman ran away and left her horse," you say to the woodcutter. "I bet he killed her."

The priest gets up. from where he is sitting. "But the woman turned up in prison, you know. It seems she was hiding in temple. The police found her."

The woodcutter's voice rings out. "It's a lie! They're all lies! Tajomaru, the woman, all lies."

"Well," you say, "men are only men. That's why they lie. They can't tell the truth, even to themselves."

"That may be true," the priest says. "Because men are weak, they lie to deceive themselves."

Your face contorts. "Not another sermon!" You walk over to the smoldering fire and start breaking the wood. You cool. "I don't mind a lie, if it's interesting. What kind of story did she tell?" you ask the priest.

"Hers was completely different from the bandit's story!" He joins you at the fire. "Everything was different. Tajomaru told of her strength. I found her pitiful. I felt compassion for her."
 
 

The kneeling woman weeps before the magistrate, her face to the ground. She brings her head up slowly. "And then, after having taken advantage of me, he proudly told me that he was the bandit Tajomaru. And then, he sneered at my husband. Oh, how terrible it must have been for him. The more he struggled, the tighter the ropes became. I couldn't stand it. I ran towards him... or tried to."
 
 

Tajomaru laughs at them and runs away. She goes over to her husband and embraces him. Her husband stares at her.
 
 

"Even now, I remember his eyes. What I saw in them was not sorrow, not even anger. It was a cold hatred of me."
 
 

Tajomaru looks at the bound husband and sobbing wife, and laughs his victory, then dashes off, screaming in laughter. She embraces her husband, but he just stares at me. "Don't! Don't look at me like that! Beat me! Kill me if you must, but don't look at me like that. Please, don't." She begins to cry again. She looks around and finds her dagger. She cuts her husband loose and tries to give the dagger to him. "Then kill me! Kill me quickly with one thrust!" she says.

He won't take the dagger from her. He doesn't even move.

She backs away. "Please don't! Don't look like that! Don't, don't look at me like that! Don't look at me like that! Don't! Don't! Don't look like that! Don't look like that! Don't look like that!"

She pleads with her husband. When he doesn't respond she begins to cry again. She backs away from him, pleading with him not to look at her with hatred.
 
 

"And then I fainted. When I opened my eyes and looked about, I saw the dagger in my husband's chest!" She collapses in tears before the magistrate. "I didn't know what to do. I ran through the forest. I must have, though I don't remember. Then I found myself standing by a pond at the foot of a hill. I threw myself into it. I tried to kill myself, but I failed. What should a poor helpless woman like me do?" She begins crying again.
 
 
 

Gnawing on an old apple you have with you, you get up after listening to the priest's account of events. You walk to the edge of the massive gate structure, spitting some of the half-rotten apple out into the pouring rain. You return to the fire. "I see. But the more I hear, the more confused I become," you say, seating yourself. "Women lead you on with their tears. They even fool themselves. Now if I believed what she said, I'd really be confused."

The priest sat, cross-legged, sadly serene. "But according to the husband's story..."

"But he's dead, how could a dead man talk?" you ask.

"Through a medium," the priest says.

"Lies! His story was all lies!" the woodcutter says, getting up from the fire and walking a few steps away.

"What?" the priest asks. "Dead me tell no lies."

You grab the priest's arm. "All right, Priest, why is that?"

"I can't believe that man would be so sinful," the priest says.

"I don't know," you say. "I don't mind that." A sneer comes over your face. "After all, who is to be trusted nowadays?"

The priest looks away.

You laugh, showing a few of your bad teeth. "Look, we all want to forget something, so we create stories. It's easier that way."

"Easier that way?" the priest says.

You laugh again and take a bite out of your apple. "Never mind. Let's hear this dead man's story."

A flash lightening illuminates the sky. The thunder comes rumbling after.
 
 

The medium shakes a Spirit Rattle in the magistrate's courtyard. She moves around a small altar on the sandy ground, up and down she moves. She spins in a circle two times, then stops and stands like a reed when there is no wind. She drops the rattle limply to the ground. Then she runs forth to the altar, in terror it seems. She speaks in an unearthly voice.
 
 

"I am in darkness now! I am suffering in the darkness! Cursed be those who cast me into this hell of darkness!"
 
 

She falls to the ground making something of a snarling sound. She crawls about on the ground snarling like an anguished beast. Then...
 
 

"After the bandit attacked my wife, he tried to console her. She sat down on the leaves, staring down into nothing. The bandit was cunning. He told her that she could no longer live with her husband. Why didn't she go with him, the bandit, rather than stay behind to be unhappy with her husband? He said he only attacked her because of his love for her. Never, in all our life together, had I seen her more beautiful! And what was my beautiful wife's reply to the bandit in front of her helpless husband?"

"Take me," she says to the bandit. "Take me away with you."

"That's what she said. But that is not all she did, or I wouldn't be here."

"Kill him," she says to the bandit as they are about to leave. "As long as he is alive, I cannot go with you. Kill him!" she cries and points to her husband.

"'Kill him!' I still hear those words!" The medium spins upon the ground, snarling in her unearthly voice. "They are like a wind, blowing me to the bottom of this pit. Has anyone uttered more pitiless words? Even the bandit was shocked to hear them!"

"Kill him," she says, clutching the bandit's shoulder. "Kill him! Kill him! Kill him!"

The bandit scowls at her, disgusted, and throws her to the ground before her husband. He stands over her and puts his foot on her back.
 
 

The medium howls in laughter.
 
 

"What do you want me to do with her?" the bandit asks the man, gesturing with his sword. "Kill her? Spare her? Nod if you agree."

"For those words, I almost forgave the bandit."

"What do you want? Kill her? Let her go?" The bandit approaches the man, demanding an answer. Relieved the oppressive foot on her back, the woman rises and runs down the path, screaming. The bandit chases after her.

"Hours later, I don't know how many..."

The bandit returns, alone. He whips a branch angrily with a piece of rope.

The man stares silently off into space.

The bandit walks over to him and draws his sword and cuts his bonds. "She got away, now I'll have to worry about her talking," the bandit says and walked away.

"It was quiet. Everything was quiet. Then I heard something, someone crying..." The man weeps. He rises slowly from where he is sitting for so long and weeping, goes over to a tree. He leans against it and weeps bitterly. He wanders about, when a glint catches his eye. He approaches it and finds it to be his wife's discarded dagger, resting on a fan of branches. He picks it up and walks back to the clearing. Then, suddenly, he turns and thrusts the dagger downwards into his upper chest.
 
 

The medium plunges an imaginary dagger downwards into her upper chest. She slowly sinks to the ground.
 
 

"Everything was quiet, how quiet it was. It grew dark, a mist seemed to envelope me as I lay quietly in the stillness. Someone was approaching. Softly, gently, who could it have been? Then, a hand grasped the dagger, and drew it out."
 
 

The medium face falls slowly to the ground.
 
 
 
 

The woodcutter paces before the rain, then returns to the fire. "That's not true. There was no dagger, he was killed by sword."

You and the priest exchange a glance.

The woodcutter wipes his face and continues his walking, moving behind you. He sits down on a piece of masonry.

You get up and go over and sit down next to him. "Now it's getting interesting. You must have seen it all. Why didn't you tell the police?"

The woodcutter turns away. "I didn't want to get involved."

"But now you want to talk about it." You see, you see. It's time to get to the bottom of this. "Tell me, then. Yours seems to be the most interesting."

"I don't want to hear!" the priest shouts from where he is sitting. "I don't want to listen to any more."

You walk half the distance to him. "Stories like this are common enough now. I heard the demons in the gate fled because of man's horrors." That said, you walk back to the woodcutter. "Well, how much do you know about this story?"

"I found, a woman's hat."

"You already said that," you say.

"About twenty yards further along I heard a woman crying. I looked from behind a bush and saw a man tied up. The woman was crying, and there was Tajomaru."

"Then it was a lie when you said that you found the body," you say, nudging closer to him."

"I didn't want to get involved," he says, turning his back to you.

You put your hands on his shoulder, your mouth near his ear. "All right then, go on, what was Tajomaru doing?"

"He was down on his knees, seeming to beg forgiveness."
 
 

"Until now," Tajomaru says, crouching over the woman who is weeping on the ground, "whenever I wanted to do anything bad, I did it. It was for me and so it was good. But today is different. I've already had you, but now I want you more and more. Go away with me! If you want I'll marry you! Look!"

She continues to weep into the leafy ground.

"I'm a famous bandit, Tajomaru, yet on my knees to you," he says, rubbing her back, trying to console her. "If you want, I'll stop being a bandit. I've enough hidden away, we can live comfortably. If you don't want me to steal, I'll work very hard! I'll even sell things in the street to make you happy. I'll do anything to please you, if you'll only come, marry me!

"Please say yes. If you don't, I'll have to kill you!" he says giving her a hard nudge with his hand. "Don't cry! Answer me! Tell me, be my wife!" He shoves her again.

She continues to cry. Then, she sits up as if suddenly aware. "How could I, a woman, answer a question like that?" She grabs her dagger, a short distance away.

Tajomaru jumps back.

The woman goes over to her husband and cuts the ropes that bind him.

Her husband struggles loose while she stumbles a few feet away and collapses, weeping again.

Tajomaru rises, his hand on the hilt of his sword. "I understand, you mean we men must decide."

The man stands and puts up his hand, stepping back a bit. "Stop! Stop!" he says to Tajomaru. "I refuse to risk my life for such a woman."

Tajomaru looks at him, then at the woman.

Her crying stops. She looks up.

"You," her husband says, "you're a shameless whore. Why don't you kill yourself?" He looks at Tajomaru. "If you want her, I'll give her to you! I regret the loss of my horse more than the loss of her!"

She looks desperately to Tajomaru.

He watches her warily. Then, he wipes the sweat from his face and scowls at her. He begins to walk away.

"Wait!" she cries and runs after him.

"Don't follow me!" Tajomaru says.

She begins to cry again.

"Stop!" her husband says. "Don't waste your time crying!"

"Hush," Tajomaru turns and says to the man, "that's unmanly! Women can't help crying, they're weak."

She cries for a bit, then breaks into a screaming laugh. "It's not me! It's you two that are weak! If you're my husband, why don't you kill this man?" she asks her husband. "Then you can tell me to kill myself, like a real man would." She turns to Tajomaru. "But you aren't a real man," she says, laughing mockingly at him. "That's why I was crying. I'm tired. I'm tired of this farce!" She circles him. "I thought that Tajomaru might find some way out. I thought, if he'd only save me I'd do anything for him. But he's not a man either, he's just like my husband!" She spits in his face.

Tajomaru looks at her, shocked.

She laughs hysterically. "Just remember," she says to both of them, "a woman only loves a real man. And when she loves, she loves madly, forgetting all else. But a woman can only be won by the strength of swords." She smiles and walks over to Tajomaru, both of them staring at her husband.

The man places his hand on his sword's hilt, then draws it smoothly. He slashes at Tajomaru, then retreats.

Tajomaru's blade is instantly at the ready.

The woman laughs wildly.

The two men circle each other cautiously, looking for the advantage.

The woman's laugh dies down, she becoming suddenly serious and appearing fearful.

The man holds his sword in the traditional fighting posture, back and up at shoulder level, ready to strike.

Tajomaru holds his sword loosely pointing down, then higher. The two men look at each other with tension and hesitation. Finally, their swords approach slowly and cross once.

Each retreats, the man tripping down.

Tajomaru chases after the advantage, but he too trips on the leaf-covered ground. Then Tajomaru retreats several dozen feet away.

The man gets up and they make another slow approach.

Then Tajomaru charges.

The man retreats, parrying.

They fall next to each other. Tajomaru plunges his sword into the place where the man lies, but he is too late and misses.

The man strikes at Tajomaru, forcing him to leave his sword lodged in the ground. The man chases Tajomaru, wildly swinging.

Tajomaru agilely dodges the strikes, circling back to where his sword lies. After making three attempts to retrieve his sword, Tajomaru lay against the small rise.

The man readies for the killing strike. He thrusts.

Tajomaru ducks under it.

The man misses several more times and the chase goes on. Finally, with a wild strike, the man lodges his own sword in the stump of a dead tree.

Tajomaru, seeing this, dashes for his own sword.

The man grabs him by the leg and drops him to the ground.

Tajomaru wriggles free and continues in such a hurry, he proceeds at a flailing crawl. He periodically throws leaves and dirt into the man's face behind him. Coming closer to his sword, he turns and kicks the man and frees himself. He pulls his sword from the ground.

The man backs away in terror.

Tajomaru rises slowly, approaching the man like a tiger.

The man backs away in equal measures. Near to his sword, he makes a token attempt to reach for it, but Tajomaru warns him away with his sword.

Tajomaru backs him into a recess, a grotto, into the trees.

"I don't want to die! I don't want to die!" the man cries.

Carefully taking aim, Tajomaru thrusts the sword downward into the man.

His wife screams.

Tajomaru backs away and falls at her feet. He rises and tries to pull her up. Time to go.

She pulls her hands away and backs away from him.

He moves after her, hands reaching out pleadingly.

She strikes at his hands, the long white folds of her kimono extending her reach.

Tajomaru grabs the man's sword and pulls it loose. He swings at her.

She runs.

Tajomaru makes a stumbling attempt at giving chase, but after falling, stays down and pounds the ground, having hurt his leg. Then, fearfully, he goes over to the man and takes the man's sword. He limps away.
 
 

You laugh heartily and stand. "And I suppose that's the truth?" you say in the direction of the priest.

The woodcutter stands erect like a shooting rocket. "I don't tell lies! I saw it with my own eyes!"

"That I doubt," you say.

"I don't lie! I saw it! With my own eyes!" the woodcutter says, getting closer.

"No one lies after he's said he is going to tell one," you say.

"If men don't trust one another then the earth becomes a hell," the priest says angrily from where he sits.

"Right," you say, "the world's a kind of hell."

"No!" the priest says. "I trust men! I don't want to believe that!" He stands and turns away from you, leaning against a pillar.

You follow him. You love goading these fools. You laugh. "No one will hear you no matter how loud you shout. Just think, which one of these stories do you believe?"

"None makes any sense," the woodcutter says.

"Don't worry about it," you say to him. "It isn't as if men were reasonable." You laugh again walk over to the fire. Squatting, you cast the burning pieces out into the relentless rain one by one, watching them be extinguished. Then you hear a high-pitched noise, a cry, a baby's cry. You look up, around. You stand and follow the sound around a latticework of wood, the former doors, behind where the three of you are sitting. There, you find a baby wearing an amulet, wrapped in blankets and lying in a wide-brimmed hat. You strip the baby of the blankets and the amulet, leaving it only in its nightgown.

The woodcutter rushes around and pushes you. "What are you doing?"

The priest picks up the baby.

"What does it look like?" you say.

"That's horrible!" the woodcutter says.

"Why? Someone else would have taken these," you say, holding them up. "Why shouldn't I?"

"You're evil!"

"Me, evil?" you snap back. "Then what about the parents of that baby?" You get closer to the woodcutter. "They had their fun, then they threw it away. That's evil!"

"No, you're wrong," the woodcutter says. "Look!" He points to the amulet. "Look at the amulet it wears. It was left to guard the baby. Think of what they went through to abandon this baby!"

"Well, if you're going to sympathize with others.." you say, rolling your eyes.

"Selfish!" the woodcutter says.

"What's wrong with that?" you say. You get in his face. "That's the way we are, the way we live! You just can't live unless you're what you call 'Selfish'," you say in his face and walk a few steps away.

The woodcutter follows for an moment, then stops. "Brute! All men are selfish and dishonest!" he says under his breath. "They've all excuses... the bandit...you!"

The woodcutter attacks you, wrapping his hands around your neck, pushing you both out into the rain. You struggle, backing off. "You say you don't lie!" you throw at him. "That's funny! Look, you may have fooled the police, but not me."

The woodcutter lets go of you and backs up.

You push him back under the gate. "So, where's the dagger?" You nudge him, moving closer. "The pearl-inlay one that the bandit said was so valuable?" You push him back some more. "Did the earth open and swallow it?" You push him against the wooden door. "Or, did someone steal it!" you say, waving a finger in his face.

He says nothing.

You start laughing. It's good being right. "Am I right? It would seem so." More laughter. "Now there's a really selfish action for you!" You smack him in the face and laugh in triumph. Your work is done. The illusions of a few more foolish people have been shattered. You look back. "Well, anything else you want to tell me? If not, I'll be going." You break into spontaneous laughter. You walk off, running when the rain hits you, laughing.