GUSTAV. Oh, HELL! Then you had better take back your God--if you
needs must have something to kow-tow to! You're a fine atheist,
with all that superstition about woman still in you! You're a fine
free-thinker, who dare not think freely about the dear ladies! Do
you know what that incomprehensible, sphinx-like, profound
something in your wife really is? It is sheer stupidity!--Look
here: she cannot even distinguish between th and t. And that, you
know, means there is something wrong with the mechanism. When you
look at the case, it looks like a chronometer, but the works
inside are those of an ordinary cheap watch.--Nothing but the
skirts-that's all! Put trousers on her, give her a pair of
moustaches of soot under her nose, then take a good, sober look at
her, and listen to her in the same manner: you'll find the
instrument has another sound to it. A phonograph, and nothing
else--giving yon back your own words, or those of other people--
and always in diluted form. Have you ever looked at a naked woman-
-oh yes, yes, of course! A youth with over-developed breasts; an
under-developed man; a child that has shot up to full height and
then stopped growing in other respects; one who is chronically
anaemic: what can you expect of such a creature?

ADOLPH. Supposing all that to be true--how can it be possible that
I still think her my equal?

GUSTAV. Hallucination--the hypnotising power of skirts! Or--the
two of you may actually have become equals. The levelling process
has been finished. Her capillarity has brought the water in both
tubes to the same height.--Tell me [taking out his watch]: our
talk has now lasted six hours, and your wife ought soon to be