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Page 15
SCENE II
DOCTOR'S HOUSE
[Courtyard enclosed on three sides by a single-storied house with a
tiled roof. Small windows in all three fa�ades. Right, verandah
with glass doors. Left, climbing roses and bee-hives outside the
windows. In the middle of the courtyard a woodpile in the form of a
cupola. A well beside it. The top of a walnut tree is seen above
the central fa�ade of the house. In the corner, right, a garden
gate. By the well a large tortoise. On right, entrance below to a
wine-cellar. An ice-chest and dust-bin. The DOCTOR'S SISTER enters
from the verandah with a telegram.]
SISTER. Now misfortune will fall on your house.
DOCTOR. When has it not, my dear sister?
SISTER. This time. ... Ingeborg's coming and bringing ... guess
whom?
DOCTOR. Wait! I know, because I've long foreseen this, even desired
it, for he's a writer I've always admired. I've learnt much from
him and often wished to meet him. Now he's coming, you say. Where
did Ingeborg meet him?
SISTER. In town, it seems. Probably in some literary _salon_.
DOCTOR. I've often wondered whether this man was the boy of the
same name who was my friend at school. I hope not; for he seemed
one that fortune would treat harshly. And in a life-time he'll have
given his unhappy tendencies full scope.
SISTER. Don't let him come here. Go out. Say you're engaged.
DOCTOR. No. One can't escape one's fate.
SISTER. But you've never bowed your head to anyone! Why crawl
before this spectre, and call him fate?
DOCTOR. Life has taught me to. I've wasted time and energy in
fighting the inevitable.
SISTER. But why allow your wife to behave like this? She'll
compromise you both.
DOCTOR. You think so? Because, when I made her break off her
engagement I held out false hopes to her of a life of freedom,
instead of the slavery she'd known. Besides, I could never love her
if I were in a position to give her orders.
SISTER. You'd be friends with your enemy?
DOCTOR. Oh ...!
SISTER. Will you let her bring someone into the house who'll
destroy you? If you only knew how I hate that man.
DOCTOR. I do. His last book's terrible; and shows a certain lack
of mental balance.
SISTER. They ought to shut him up.
DOCTOR. Many people have said so, but I don't think him bad enough.
SISTER. Because you're eccentric yourself, and live in daily
contact with a woman who's mad.
DOCTOR. I admit abnormality has always had a strong attraction for
me, and originality is at least not commonplace. (The syren of a
steamer is heard.) What was that?
SISTER. Your nerves are on edge. It's only the steamer. (Pause.)
Now, I implore you, go away!
DOCTOR. I ought to want to; but I'm held fast. (Pause.) From here I
can see his portrait in my study. The sunlight throws a shadow on
it that changes it completely. It makes him look like. ...
Horrible! You see what I mean?
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