The Doctor’s Dilemma · Act III (2/2) (3/3)

| Sir Patrick | Takes the drawing from him and grunts approvingly. That’s rather good. Don’t you think so, Lolly? | | Ridgeon | Yes. So good that I should like to have it. | | Sir Patrick | Thank you; but I should like to have it myself. What d’ye think, Walpole? | | Walpole | Rising and coming over to look. No, by Jove: I must have this. | | Louis | I wish I could afford to give it to you, Sir Patrick. But I’d pay five guineas sooner than part with it. | | Ridgeon | Oh, for that matter, I will give you six for it. | | Walpole | Ten. | | Louis | I think Sir Patrick is morally entitled to it, as he sat for it. May I send it to your house, Sir Patrick, for twelve guineas? | | Sir Patrick | Twelve guineas! Not if you were President of the Royal Academy, young man. He gives him back the drawing decisively and turns away, taking up his hat. | | Louis | To B.B.. Would you like to take it at twelve, Sir Ralph? | | B.B. | Coming between Louis and Walpole. Twelve guineas? Thank you: I’ll take it at that. He takes it and presents it to Sir Patrick. Accept it from me, Paddy; and may you long be spared to contemplate it. | | Sir Patrick | Thank you. He puts the drawing into his hat. | | B.B. | I needn’t settle with you now, Mr. Dubedat: my fees will come to more than that. He also retrieves his hat. | | Louis | Indignantly. Well, of all the mean⁠—! Words fail him. I’d let myself be shot sooner than do a thing like that. I consider you’ve stolen that drawing. | | Sir Patrick | Drily. So we’ve converted you to a belief in morality after all, eh? | | Louis | Yah! To Walpole. I’ll do another one for you, Walpole, if you’ll let me have the ten you promised. | | Walpole | Very good. I’ll pay on delivery. | | Louis | Oh! What do you take me for? Have you no confidence in my honor? | | Walpole | None whatever. | | Louis | Oh well, of course if you feel that way, you can’t help it. Before you go, Sir Patrick, let me fetch Jennifer. I know she’d like to see you, if you don’t mind. He goes to the inner door. And now, before she comes in, one word. You’ve all been talking here pretty freely about me⁠—in my own house too. I don’t mind that: I’m a man and can take care of myself. But when Jennifer comes in, please remember that she’s a lady, and that you are supposed to be gentlemen. He goes out. | | Walpole | Well!!! He gives the situation up as indescribable, and goes for his hat. | | Ridgeon | Damn his impudence! | | B.B. | I shouldn’t be at all surprised to learn that he’s well connected. Whenever I meet dignity and self-possession without any discoverable basis, I diagnose good family. | | Ridgeon | Diagnose artistic genius, B.B. That’s what saves his self-respect. | | Sir Patrick | The world is made like that. The decent fellows are always being lectured and put out of countenance by the snobs. | | B.B. | Altogether refusing to accept this. I am not out of countenance. I should like, by Jupiter, to see the man who could put me out of countenance. Jennifer comes in. Ah, Mrs. Dubedat! And how are we today? | | Mrs. Dubedat | Shaking hands with him. Thank you all so much for coming. *She shakes Walpole’s hand. Thank you, Sir Patrick she shakes Sir Patrick’s. Oh, life has been worth living since I have known you. Since Richmond I have not known a moment’s fear. And it used to be nothing but fear. Won’t you sit down and tell me the result of the consultation? | | Walpole | I’ll go, if you don’t mind, Mrs. Dubedat. I have an appointment. Before I go, let me say that I am quite agreed with my colleagues here as to the character of the case. As to the cause and the remedy, that’s not my business: I’m only a surgeon; and these gentlemen are physicians and will advise you. I may have my own views: in fact I have them; and they are perfectly well known to my colleagues. If I am needed⁠—and needed I shall be finally⁠—they know where to find me; and I am always at your service. So for today, goodbye. He goes out, leaving Jennifer much puzzled by his unexpected withdrawal and formal manner. | | Sir Patrick | I also will ask you to excuse me, Mrs. Dubedat. | | Ridgeon | Anxiously. Are you going? | | Sir Patrick | Yes: I can be of no use here; and I must be getting back. As you know, ma’am, I’m not in practice now; and I shall not be in charge of the case. It rests between Sir Colenso Ridgeon and Sir Ralph Bloomfield Bonington. They know my opinion. Good afternoon to you, ma’am. He bows and makes for the door. | | Mrs. Dubedat | Detaining him. There’s nothing wrong, is there? You don’t think Louis is worse, do you? | | Sir Patrick | No: he’s not worse. Just the same as at Richmond. | | Mrs. Dubedat | Oh, thank you: you frightened me. Excuse me. | | Sir Patrick | Don’t mention it, ma’am. He goes out. | | B.B. | Now, Mrs. Dubedat, if I am to take the patient in hand⁠— | | Mrs. Dubedat | Apprehensively, with a glance at Ridgeon. You! But I thought that Sir Colenso⁠— | | B.B. | Beaming with the conviction that he is giving her a most gratifying surprise. My dear lady, your husband shall have Me. | | Mrs. Dubedat | But⁠— | | B.B. | Not a word: it is a pleasure to me, for your sake. Sir Colenso Ridgeon will be in his proper place, in the bacteriological laboratory. I shall be in my proper place, at the bedside. Your husband shall be treated exactly as if he were a member of the royal family. Mrs. Dubedat, uneasy, again is about to protest. No gratitude: it would embarrass me, I assure you. Now, may I ask whether you are particularly tied to these apartments. Of course, the motor has annihilated distance; but I confess that if you were rather nearer to me, it would be a little more convenient. | | Mrs. Dubedat | You see, this studio and flat are self-contained. I have suffered so much in lodgings. The servants are so frightfully dishonest. | | B.B. | Ah! Are they? Are they? Dear me! | | Mrs. Dubedat | I was never accustomed to lock things up. And I missed so many small sums. At last a dreadful thing happened. I missed a five-pound note. It was traced to the housemaid; and she actually said Louis had given it to her. And he wouldn’t let me do anything: he is so sensitive that these things drive him mad. | | B.B. | Ah⁠—hm⁠—ha⁠—yes⁠—say no more, Mrs. Dubedat: you shall not move. If the mountain will not come to Muhammad, Muhammad must come to the mountain. Now I must be off. I will write and make an appointment. We shall begin stimulating the phagocytes on⁠—on⁠—probably on Tuesday next; but I will let you know. Depend on me; don’t fret; eat regularly; sleep well; keep your spirits up; keep the patient cheerful; hope for the best; no tonic like a charming woman; no medicine like cheerfulness; no resource like science; goodbye, goodbye, goodbye. Having shaken hands⁠—she being too overwhelmed to speak⁠—he goes out, stopping to say to Ridgeon: On Tuesday morning send me down a tube of some really stiff antitoxin. Any kind will do. Don’t forget. Goodbye, Colly. He goes out. | | Ridgeon | You look quite discouraged again. She is almost in tears. What’s the matter? Are you disappointed? | | Mrs. Dubedat | I know I ought to be very grateful. Believe me, I am very grateful. But⁠—but⁠— | | Ridgeon | Well? | | Mrs. Dubedat | I had set my heart your curing Louis. | | Ridgeon | Well, Sir Ralph Bloomfield Bonington⁠— | | Mrs. Dubedat | Yes, I know, I know. It is a great privilege to have him. But oh, I wish it had been you. I know it’s unreasonable; I can’t explain; but I had such a strong instinct that you would cure him. I don’t⁠—I can’t feel the same about Sir Ralph. You promised me. Why did you give Louis up? | | Ridgeon | I explained to you. I cannot take another case. | | Mrs. Dubedat | But at Richmond? | | Ridgeon | At Richmond I thought I could make room for one more case. But my old friend Dr. Blenkinsop claimed that place. His lung is attacked. | | Mrs. Dubedat | Attaching no importance whatever to Blenkinsop*. Do you mean that elderly man⁠—that rather⁠— | | Ridgeon | Sternly. I mean the gentleman that dined with us: an excellent and honest man, whose life is as valuable as anyone else’s. I have arranged that I shall take his case, and that Sir Ralph Bloomfield Bonington shall take Mr. Dubedat’s. | | Mrs. Dubedat | Turning indignantly on him. I see what it is. Oh! it is envious, mean, cruel. And I thought that you would be above such a thing. | | Ridgeon | What do you mean? | | Mrs. Dubedat | Oh, do you think I don’t know? do you think it has never happened before? Why does everybody turn against him? Can you not forgive him for being superior to you? for being cleverer? for being braver? for being a great artist? | | Ridgeon | Yes: I can forgive him for all that. | | Mrs. Dubedat | Well, have you anything to say against him? I have challenged everyone who has turned against him⁠—challenged them face to face to tell me any wrong thing he has done, any ignoble thought he has uttered. They have always confessed that they could not tell me one. I challenge you now. What do you accuse him of? | | Ridgeon | I am like all the rest. Face to face, I cannot tell you one thing against him. | | Mrs. Dubedat | Not satisfied. But your manner is changed. And you have broken your promise to me to make room for him as your patient. | | Ridgeon | I think you are a little unreasonable. You have had the very best medical advice in London for him; and his case has been taken in hand by a leader of the profession. Surely⁠— | | Mrs. Dubedat | Oh, it is so cruel to keep telling me that. It seems all right; and it puts me in the wrong. But I am not in the wrong. I have faith in you; and I have no faith in the others. We have seen so many doctors: I have come to know at last when they are only talking and can do nothing. It is different with you. I feel that you know. You must listen to me, doctor. With sudden misgiving. Am I offending you by calling you doctor instead of remembering your title? | | Ridgeon | Nonsense. I am a doctor. But mind you, don’t call Walpole one. | | Mrs. Dubebat | I don’t care about Mr. Walpole: it is you who must befriend me. Oh, will you please sit down and listen to me just for a few minutes. He assents with a grave inclination, and sits on the sofa. She sits on the easel chair. Thank you. I won’t keep you long; but I must tell you the whole truth. Listen. I know Louis as nobody else in the world knows him or ever can know him. I am his wife. I know he has little faults: impatiences, sensitivenesses, even little selfishnesses that are too trivial for him to notice. I know that he sometimes shocks people about money because he is so utterly above it, and can’t understand the value ordinary people set on it. Tell me: did he⁠—did he borrow any money from you? | | Ridgeon | He asked me for some once. | | Mrs. Dubedat | Tears again in her eyes. Oh, I am so sorry⁠—so sorry. But he will never do it again: I pledge you my word for that. He has given me his promise: here in this room just before you came; and he is incapable of breaking his word. That was his only real weakness; and now it is conquered and done with forever. | | Ridgeon | Was that really his only weakness? | | Mrs. Dubedat | He is perhaps sometimes weak about women, because they adore him so, and are always laying traps for him. And of course when he says he doesn’t believe in morality, ordinary pious people think he must be wicked. You can understand, can’t you, how all this starts a great deal of gossip about him, and gets repeated until even good friends get set against him? | | Ridgeon | Yes: I understand. | | Mrs. Dubedat | Oh, if you only knew the other side of him as I do! Do you know, doctor, that if Louis dishonored himself by a really bad action, I should kill myself. | | Ridgeon | Come! don’t exaggerate. | | Mrs. Dubedat | I should. You don’t understand that, you east country people. | | Ridgeon | You did not see much of the world in Cornwall, did you? | | Mrs. Dubedat | Naively. Oh yes. I saw a great deal every day of the beauty of the world⁠—more than you ever see here in London. But I saw very few people, if that is what you mean. I was an only child. | | Ridgeon | That explains a good deal. | | Mrs. Dubedat | I had a great many dreams; but at last they all came to one dream. | | Ridgeon | With half a sigh. Yes, the usual dream. | | Mrs. Dubedat | Surprised. Is it usual? | | Ridgeon | As I guess. You haven’t yet told me what it was. | | Mrs. Dubedat | I didn’t want to waste myself. I could do nothing myself; but I had a little property and I could help with it. I had even a little beauty: don’t think me vain for knowing it. I always had a terrible struggle with poverty and neglect at first. My dream was to save one of them from that, and bring some charm and happiness into his life. I prayed Heaven to send me one. I firmly believe that Louis was guided to me in answer to my prayer. He was no more like the other men I had met than the Thames Embankment is like our Cornish coasts. He saw everything that I saw, and drew it for me. He understood everything. He came to me like a child. Only fancy, doctor: he never even wanted to marry me: he never thought of the things other men think of! I had to propose it myself. Then he said he had no money. When I told him I had some, he said “Oh, all right,” just like a boy. He is still like that, quite unspoiled, a man in his thoughts, a great poet and artist in his dreams, and a child in his ways. I gave him myself and all I had that he might grow to his full height with plenty of sunshine. If I lost faith in him, it would mean the wreck and failure of my life. I should go back to Cornwall and die. I could show you the very cliff I should jump off. You must cure him: you must make him quite well again for me. I know that you can do it and that nobody else can. I implore you not to refuse what I am going to ask you to do. Take Louis yourself; and let Sir Ralph cure Dr. Blenkinsop. | | Ridgeon | Slowly. Mrs. Dubedat: do you really believe in my knowledge and skill as you say you do? | | Mrs. Dubedat | Absolutely. I do not give my trust by halves. | | Ridgeon | I know that. Well, I am going to test you⁠—hard. Will you believe me when I tell you that I understand what you have just told me; that I have no desire but to serve you in the most faithful friendship; and that your hero must be preserved to you. | | Mrs. Dubedat | Oh forgive me. Forgive what I said. You will preserve him to me. | | Ridgeon | At all hazards. She kisses his hand. He rises hastily. No: you have not heard the rest. She rises too. You must believe me when I tell you that the one chance of preserving the hero lies in Louis being in the care of Sir Ralph. | | Mrs. Dubedat | Firmly. You say so: I have no more doubt: I believe you. Thank you. | | Ridgeon | Goodbye. She takes his hand. I hope this will be a lasting friendship. | | Mrs. Dubedat | It will. My friendships end only with death. | | Ridgeon | Death ends everything, doesn’t it? Goodbye. | | | With a sigh and a look of pity at her which she does not understand, he goes. |