The Seventh Seal

Narrator: And when the Lamb opened the seventh seal, there was silence in heaven about the space of half an hour... And the seven angels which had the seven trumpets prepared themselves to sound. Block: Who are you? Death: I am Death. Block: Have you come for me? Death: I have walked at your side for a long time now. Block: That I know. Death: Are you prepared? Block: My body is afraid, but I am not. Block: Wait a moment. Death: You all say that. But I give no respite. Block: You play chess, do you not? Death: How do you know that? Block: I've seen it in paintings, heard it in the songs. Death: I really am a rather skilful chess player. Block: Even so, you can't be more skilful than me. Death: Why do you want to play chess with me? Block: That is my business. Death: You are right about that. Block: My condition is that I may live as long as I resist you. If I checkmate you, you set me free. Block: Black for you! Death: It becomes me well.

The Seventh Seal, CC BY-SA 4.0

Block: Did he show you the way? Jöns: Not exactly. Block: What did he say? Jöns: Nothing really. Block: Was he mute? Jöns: No, milord. He was most eloquent. Block: Indeed. Jöns: Yes, eloquent. But the speech he held was gloomy. One has to say that.

The Seventh Seal, CC BY-SA 4.0

Jof: Going to play Death? Jonas Skat: Scaring decent folk out of their wits. … They say the plague stalks the land. The priests speculate in sudden death and moral bellyache.

The Seventh Seal, CC BY-SA 4.0

Jöns: Why all this daubing? Painter: To remind people of death. Jöns: That won't make them any happier. Painter: Why make them happy? Why not scare them? Jöns: Then they won't look at your picture. Painter: Yes, they will. A skull is more interesting than a naked woman. Jöns: If you scare them— Painter: They think— Jöns: Then they think. Painter: And are still more scared. Jöns: And fall into the arms of the priests. Jöns: What's that rubbish there? Painter: People think the plague is a punishment from God. Crowds wander the land lashing each other to please the Lord. Jöns: Lashing each other? Painter: Yes, it's a horrible sight. You feel like hiding when they pass. Jöns: Give me a gin. I've had nothing but water. I feel as thirsty as a desert camel. Painter: Scared after all?

The Seventh Seal, CC BY-SA 4.0

Block: I want to confess as best I can, but my heart is empty, and the emptiness a mirror facing me. I see myself and am filled with loathing and horror. My indifference to men has shut me out from their company. I live now in a world of ghosts, a prisoner of my dreams and fantasies. Priest: Yet you do not want to die. Block: Yes, I do. Priest/Death: What are you waiting for? Block: I want knowledge. Priest/Death: You want guarantees. Block: Call it what you will. Block: Is it so awfully unthinkable to conceive of God with one's senses? Why should He conceal Himself in a fog of half-spoken promises and unseen miracles? How are we to believe the believers when we don't believe ourselves? What will become of us who want to believe but cannot? And what of those who neither will nor can believe? Why can I not kill God within me? Why does He go on living within me in a painful, humiliating way, though I curse Him and want to tear Him out of my heart? Why does He remain a treacherous reality

The Seventh Seal, CC BY-SA 4.0

Jöns: For ten years we sat in the Holy Land, bitten by snakes, mosquitoes, and wild beasts, slaughtered by the heathens, poisoned by the wine, given crabs by the women, bled by the crabs, rotted by fevers, all for the glory of God! Jöns and the Painter: For the glory of God! Jöns: I tell you, our crusade was so stupid that only a true idealist could have thought it up.

The Seventh Seal, CC BY-SA 4.0