The author has in this dream play sought to imitate the disjointed yet seemingly logical shape of a dream. Anything can happen; all things are possible and plausible. Time and space do not exist; the imagination spins, weaving new patterns on a flimsy basis of reality: a mixture of memories, experiences, free associations, absurdities and improvisations.
The characters split, double, multiply, evaporate, condense, dissolve and merge. But one consciousness rules them all: the dreamer’s; for him there are no secrets, no inconsistencies, no scruples and no laws. He does not judge or acquit, he merely relates; and, because a dream is usually painful rather than pleasant, a tone of melancholy and compassion for all living creatures permeates the rambling narrative. Sleep, the liberator, often feels like torture, but when the torment is at its worst, the moment of awakening comes and reconciles the sufferer with reality, which, regardless of how painful it might be, is at this very moment a joy compared to the agonies of dreaming.