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Page 31
LADY. Don't turn your back on the sunlight. Look at this lovely
country; you'll feel calmer.
STRANGER. I can't bear that poorhouse. It seems to have been built
there solely for me. And a demented woman always stands there
beckoning.
LADY. Do you think they treat you badly here?
STRANGER. In a way, no. They feed me with tit-bits, as if I were to
be fattened for the butcher. But I can't eat because they grudge it
me, and I feel the cold rays of their hate. To me it seems there's
an icy wind everywhere, although it's still and hot. And I can hear
that accurs�d mill. ...
LADY. It's not grinding now.
STRANGER. Yes. Grinding ... grinding.
LADY. Listen. There's no hate here. Pity, at most.
STRANGER. Another thing. ... Why do people I meet cross themselves?
LADY. Only because they're used to praying in silence. (Pause.) You
had an unwelcome letter this morning?
STRANGER. Yes. The kind that makes your hair rise from the scalp,
so that you want to curse at fate. I'm owed money, but can't get
paid. Now the law's being set in motion against me by ... the
guardians of my children, because I've not paid alimony. No one has
ever been in such a dishonourable position. I'm blameless. I could
pay my way; I want to, but am prevented! Not my fault; yet my
shame! It's not in nature. The devil's got a hand in it.
LADY. Why?
STRANGER. Why? Why is one born into this world an ignoramus,
knowing nothing of the laws, customs and usage one inadvertently
breaks? And for which one's punished. Why does one grow into a
youth full of high ambition only to be driven into vile actions one
abhors? Why, why?
LADY (who has secretly been looking at the book: absent-mindedly).
There must be a reason, even if we don't know it.
STRANGER. If it's to humble one, it's a poor method. It only makes
me more arrogant. Eve!
LADY. Don't call me that.
STRANGER (starting). Why not?
LADY. I don't like it. You'd feel as I do, if I called you Caesar.
STRANGER. Have we got back to that?
LADY. To what?
STRANGER. Did you mention that name for any reason?
LADY. Caesar? No. But I'm beginning to find things out.
STRANGER. Very well! Then I may as well fall honourably by my own
hand. I am Caesar, the school-boy, for whose escapade your husband,
the werewolf, was punished. Fate delights in making links for
eternity. A noble sport! (The LADY, uncertain what to do, does not
reply.) Say something!
LADY. I can't.
STRANGER. Say that he became a werewolf because, as a child, he
lost his belief in the justice of heaven, owing to the fact that,
though innocent, he was punished for the misdeeds of another. But
if you say so, I shall reply that I suffered ten times as much from
my conscience, and that the spiritual crisis that followed left me
so strengthened that I've never done such a thing again.
LADY. No. It's not that.
STRANGER. Then what is it? Do you respect me no longer?
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