Haste! saddle my Arabian, and bring me my cloak and pistols!
A hilly country. An asylum for the insane, surrounded by a garden.
The Wife of the Physician. (She is seen opening a barred door, and wears a great bunch of keys at her girdle.) Are you a relation of the countess?
The Man. I am a friend of the count's; he sent me here.
The Wife of the Physician. We have indeed but little hope of her recovery. I am sorry my husband is not at home; he could have explained the whole case to you. She was brought here in convulsions yesterday—how very hot it is to-day!
Wiping the perspiration from her face.
We have a great many patients here, but none so ill as the countess.
Only think of it—this asylum costs us two hundred thousand—but you are growing impatient—tell me, is it true that the Jacobins seized her husband at midnight, and thus drove her mad?
I beg you....