DOMINICAN. How do the two of them get on?
MOTHER. Half the time, happily; the other half they plague one another like devils.
DOMINICAN. That's the way they must go. Plague one another till they come to the Cross.
MOTHER. If they don't part again.
DOMINICAN. What? Have they done so?
MOTHER. They've left one another four times, but have always come back. It seems as if they're chained together. It would be a good thing if they were, for a child's on the way.
DOMINICAN. Let the child come. Children bring gifts that are refreshing to tired souls.
MOTHER. I hope it may be so. But it looks as if this one will be an apple of discord. They're already quarrelling over its name; they're quarrelling over its baptism; and the mother's already jealous of her husband's children by his first wife. He can't promise to love this child as much as the others, and the mother absolutely insists that he shall! So there's no end to their miseries.
DOMINICAN. Oh yes, there is. Wait! He's had dealings with higher powers, so that we've gained a hold on him; and our prayers will be more, powerful than his resistance. Their effect is as extraordinary as it is mysterious. (The STRANGER appears on the terrace. He is in hunting costume and wears a tropical helmet. In his hand he has an alpenstock.) Is that him, up there?
MOTHER. Yes. That's my present son-in-law.