WOYZECK in a wave of blue—drifting slowly to the bottom of the pond. Spinning and dropping through the water.
(We can also see ANDRES on his bunk, reading slowly aloud from WOYZECK ’s notebook. Flipping to various passages.)
ANDRES “…we must act according to our principles … the essential needs of the masses can bring about a change … all this activity—the shouts of the individual—is a foolish waste of time … no one hears them … no one helps them, either … the poor patiently pull the cart while the princes and the liberals play out their farces … my first moment of clarity for a week … constant headaches and a fever … swallowed by a sea of my thoughts which dissolve all my senses … every face seems to me a death’s head, the eyes glazed, the cheeks like wax … what is it in us that lies and murders and steals?… darkness hovers over me, my heart grown wide with endless longing … I am no longer able to even indulge myself in pain … I am an automaton … my soul has been taken away … our age is now totally materialistic but what we need is weapons and bread … they try to tell us ‘all republics are impossible,’ so every day good Germans are told about anarchy, murder and manslaughter … yet … if anything can help in our time, then it is violence. Indeed, are we not … already in a constant state of violence?”
WOYZECK’S lifeless body comes to rest on the bottom of the pond. Bobbing in the lazy current.
ANDRES looks up, nervous, and quickly hides the notebook under his pillow.
The water and WOYZECK are gone now—disappearing into the darkness. ANDRES huddles alone in his bunk. Eyes open.
Blackout.