_Ger._ What's the matter? Where am I? _Col. G._ I must fetch a doctor, sir. You've been in a faint. _Ger._ Why couldn't I keep in it? It was very nice: you know nothing--and that's the nicest thing of all. Why is it we can't stop, William? _Col. G._ I don't understand you, sir. _Ger._ Stop living, I mean. It's no use killing yourself, for you don't stop then. At least they say you go on living all the same. If I thought it did mean stopping, William-- _Col. C._ Do come to your room, sir. _Ger._ I won't. I'll stop here. How hot it is! Don't let anybody in. _Stretches out his hand_. COL. G. _holds it. He falls asleep_. _Col. G._ What _shall_ I do? If he married her, he'd be miserable, and make her miserable too. I'll take her away somewhere. I'll be a father to her; I'll tend her as if she were his widow. But what confusions would follow! Alas! alas! one crime is the mother of a thousand miseries! And now he's in for a fever--typhus, perhaps!--I _must_ find this girl!--What a sweet creature that Miss Lacordère is! If only he might have _her_! I don't care what she was. _Ger._ Don't let them near me, William! They will drive me mad. They think I shall love them. I _will_ not. If she comes one step nearer, I shall strike her. You Diana! Hecate! Hell-cat!--Fire-hearted Chaos is burning me to ashes! My brain is a cinder! Some water, William! _Col. G._ Here it is, sir. _Ger._ But just look to Psyche there. Ah, she's off! There she goes! melting away in the blue, like a dissolving vapour. Bring me my field-glass, William. I may catch a glimpse of her yet. Make haste. _Col. G._ Pray don't talk so, sir. Do be quiet, or you will make yourself very ill. Think what will become of me if-- _Ger._ What worse would _you_ be, William? You are a soldier. I must talk. You are all wrong about it: it keeps me quiet (_holding his head with both hands_). I should go raving mad else (_wildly_). Give me some water. (_He drinks eagerly, then looks slowly round the room_.) Now they _are_ gone, and I do believe they won't come again! I see everything--and your face, William. You are very good to me--very patient! I should die if it weren't for you. _Col. G._ I would die for you, sir. _Ger._ Would you? But perhaps you don't care much for your life. Anybody might have _my_ life for the asking. I dare say it's just as good to be dead.--Ah! there is a toad--a toad with a tail! No; it's a toad with a slow-worm after him. Take them away, William!--Thank you.--I used to think life pleasant, but now--somehow there's nothing in it. She told me the truth about it--Constance did. Don't let those women come back. What if I _should_ love them, William!--love and hate them both at once! William! William! (_A knock at the door_.) See who that is. Mind you don't let _them_ in. _Col. G._ Martha is there, sir.