the Doctor is sending me away?
DOCTOR
On the contrary, it’s you who are sending us away since you don’t wish to come with us.
PATRICK
You didn’t give me time to think it over, sir.
DOCTOR
(low to Louisa)
Are they busy packing?
LOUISA
The ladies have done nothing else all day.
DOCTOR
And with what mood?
LOUISA
Miss Melida was sad; Miss Émeraude was joyful.
DOCTOR
Poor Melida—but it has to be done. I’m going to my office, if the ladies ask after me, you will say I’ve returned but that I am busy.
LOUISA
Yes, doctor.
(He leaves, sighing.)
PATRICK
Ah—then—so it’s decided—completely decided?
LOUISA
What?
PATRICK
The departure.
LOUISA
You can see plainly since the Doctor told you to deliver your accounts to him.
PATRICK
Well—and you?
LOUISA
And me—what?
PATRICK
You’re leaving, too?
LOUISA
Doubtless.
PATRICK
You’re going to expatriate yourself—?
LOUISA
I’ll follow my mistress.
PATRICK
You will follow your mistress—that’s well said that is.
LOUISA
Is it not the duty of a good servant to follow their masters?
PATRICK
Doubtless when the change of residence is reasonable; but when the master’s change residence to go establish themselves in the Antipodes, that’s another matter. Do you know where these Antipodes are, Miss Louisa?
LOUISA
No.
PATRICK
Well, I’ve informed myself about it. It’s exactly 3,000 leagues beneath my feet—directly—in a country where men walk with their heads down and their feet in the air—where day is night and night is day—where they burn in winter and freeze in summer—Come on! Does one go to such an unreasonable country?
LOUISA
Apparently since we are going there.
PATRICK
But you’ll never come back from there.
LOUISA
Then say your goodbyes to me.
PATRICK
What! Goodbye—
LOUISA
Yes—goodbye.
PATRICK
Anyway, you aren’t going tomorrow.
LOUISA
Who knows?
PATRICK
And you are telling me all this for true,— plainly?
LOUISA
Without any doubt.
PATRICK
Why there’s a way to kill a man on the spot.
LOUISA
Bah! You will do as Mr. Williams, you will resign yourself.
PATRICK
Mr. Williams resigned! Why that means that he’s like me—not quite like me—he’s in despair.
LOUISA
Ah! Now there’s someone who, if he were free to come as you are, wouldn’t beg—he doesn’t compromise with those he loves.
PATRICK
Excuse me, I seldom compromise with those I don’t love—and I have my reasons for that—if you were to know.
LOUISA
I ask nothing better.
PATRICK
Have you ever made a crossing—you who speak?
LOUISA
Never—
PATRICK
Well—as for me, I made one—not very long—from Dover to Calais—I am only telling you that—and yet I am a man—!
LOUISA
A bad sailor, that’s all.
PATRICK
Ah, yes—I am subject to attacks of giddiness, only looking at waves; I prefer turf to the sea; earthquakes are rare unlike big boats bearing immigrants where it’s a perpetual uproar! The wind blows, the ropes screech, the boards crack, everyone is complaining—and when the weather is calm—you see them following you opening their jaws to swallow the boat! I get ill just to think of it—I was at the point that if I could do without fog, I’d never go back to England. But what do you want? I’m a true Englishman, I cannot do without fog—that’s what make us so gay.
LOUISA
Well—don’t leave your fog—and wish me bon voyage. Hey, someone’s knocking.
PATRICK
