Adolf. Blood transfusion? Yes.
Gustav. It seems to me that you’ve allowed your veins to be opened a bit too much. The examination of this figure clears up many things which I’d previously only surmised. You loved her infinitely?
Adolf. Yes, so much that I could never tell whether she is I, or I am her, when she laughed I laughed, when she cried I cried, and when—just imagine it—our child came into the world I suffered the same as she did.
Gustav.[Stepping a little to the right.] Look here, old chap, I am awfully sorry to have to tell you, but the symptoms of epilepsy are already manifesting themselves.
Adolf.[Crushed.] In me? What makes you say so?
Gustav. Because I watched these symptoms in a younger brother of mine, who eventually died of excess. [He sits down in the armchair by the circular table.]
Adolf. How did it manifest itself—that disease, I mean?
[GUSTAV gesticulates vividly; ADOLF watches with strained attention, and involuntarily imitates GUSTAV’S gestures.]
Gustav. A ghastly sight. If you feel at all off color, I’d rather not harrow you by describing the symptoms.
Adolf.[Nervously.] Go on, go on.