ADOLPH. Yes, I do. I take a pleasure in never quite reaching up to
her. I have taught her to swim, for example, and now I enjoy
hearing her boast that she surpasses me both in skill and daring.
To begin with, I merely pretended to be awkward and timid in order
to raise her courage. And so it ended with my actually being her
inferior, more of a coward than she. It almost seemed to me as if
she had actually taken my courage away from me.

GUSTAV. Have you taught her anything else?

ADOLPH. Yes--but it must stay between us--I have taught her how to
spell, which she didn't know before. But now, listen: when she
took charge of our domestic correspondence, I grew out of the
habit of writing. And think of it: as the years passed on, lack of
practice made me forget a little here and there of my grammar. But
do you think she recalls that I was the one who taught her at the
start? No--and so I am "the idiot," of course.

GUSTAV. So you are an idiot already?

ADOLPH. Oh, it's just a joke, of course!

GUSTAV. Of course! But this is clear cannibalism, I think. Do you
know what's behind that sort of practice? The savages eat their
enemies in order to acquire their useful qualities. And this woman
has been eating your soul, your courage, your knowledge---

ADOLPH. And my faith! It was I who urged her to write her first
book---