DOROTHEA.What?
DOROTHY.You see this knife?
The ghost of Caesar Borgia gave me this,
And with it some advice on taking life.
He only wished, he said, the chance were his!
DOROTHEA. But don't you know? One's not allowed to kill.
DOROTHY. Pooh! A mere whimsy of the Conscious Mind.
Prepare!
DOROTHEA. But listen!
DOROTHEA.You can't!
DOROTHY.I will!
Pray to the gods whom Freud has left behind!
(DOROTHY lunges with the knife at DOROTHEA, who escapes by darting to the left of the table. She raises her right hand high.)
DOROTHEA. Stop! I pronounce on you this dreadful spell!
Abracadabra: complex: transference:
Theriomorphia—now it's working well—
Father-imago: schizophrenia——