LOCHES. What, then, good heavens?
DOCTOR. Any number. You can tell her that a separation will be a calamity for all parties and that her husband is the only person interested in helping her at any price to save her child. You can tell her that out of the ruins of her first happiness she can construct a life of solid affection that will have every chance of being lasting and most sincerely enviable. There is much truth in the saying that reformed rakes make the best husbands. Take your son-in-law. If your daughter consents to forgive and forget, he will not only respect her; he will be eternally grateful. You can tell her all this and you will find much else to say besides. As for the future, we will make sure that when they are re-united their next child shall be healthy and vigorous.
LOCHES. Is that possible?
DOCTOR. Yes, yes! A thousand times yes. I have one thing that I always tell my patients: if I could I would paste it up at every street corner. ‘Syphilis is like a woman whose temper is roused by the feeling that her power is disdained. It is terrible only to those who think it insignificant, not to those who know its dangers.’ Repeat that to your daughter. Give her back to her husband—she has nothing more to fear from him—and in two years time I guarantee that you will be a happy grand-father.
LOCHES. Thank you, doctor. I do not know if I can ever forget. But you have made me so uneasy on the score of these responsibilities that I have ignored and given me back so much hope, that I will promise you to do nothing rash. If my poor child can, after a time bring herself to forgive her husband, I shall not stand in the way.
DOCTOR. Good! But if you have another daughter, take care not to make the same mistake that you made over the marriage of your first.
LOCHES. How was I to know?
DOCTOR. Ah, there it is. You didn’t know! You are a father and you didn’t know! You are a deputy and have the honor and the burden of making laws for us, and you didn’t know! You didn’t know about syphilis, just as you probably do not know about alcoholism and tuberculosis.
LOCHES. Really, I—
DOCTOR. Well, if you like I will except you. But there are five hundred others, are there not, who sit in the Chamber and style themselves Representatives of the people? Here are the three unspeakable gods to whom every day thousands of human sacrifices are offered up. What single hour do your colleagues find for the organization of our forces against these insatiable monsters? Take alcoholism. The manufacture of poisonous liquors should be prohibited and the number of licences cut down. But we are afraid of the power of the great distillers and of the voting strength of the trade: consequently we deplore the immorality of the working classes and quiet our conscience by writing pamphlets and preaching sermons. Pah! Then take tuberculosis: everyone knows that the real remedy is to pay sufficient wages and have insanitary workmen’s dwellings knocked down. But no one will do it, although the working class is the most useful we have as well as the worst rewarded. Instead, workmen are recommended not to spit. Admirable, isn’t it? Finally, syphilis. Why do you not concern yourselves with that? You create offices of state for all sorts of things: why do you not one day set about creating an office of public health?