First Dream Soldier
(Drawing near with a rifle.) Is that so? You defy me, do you? I’ll show you whether I’m real or not. (He takes deliberate aim.)
Second Dream Soldier
Yes, kill him. That’s the way!
The Professor
(Lifting his hand.) Wait a moment! Don’t! I—I’m not sure!
First Dream Soldier
But I will, just the same. You say I’m not real? I’ll show you whether I am or not! (He fires.) How does that feel?
The Professor
(Who has twisted himself about until he has one hand under him in a most painful position.) Oh, God, I’m shot! And now I’ll die! This whole scene, real or not real, will pass away and I will never know—or will I? And yet once I was a man, and it was good to be alive. Oh! Oh! Oh! (He weeps and sinks down. A powerful clap of thunder half arouses him. The knocking of Patsy Laferty becomes dimly audible, a cross between the clatter of musketry and a knock. He stares at the soldiers, some of whom seem already to be growing thin and wavering.) Dying! Alas! I’m dying! Never will I see this wonderful world any more! (He partially wakes.) Or will I? What’s this—I’m not dying, after all! They’re not real! I’m only dreaming. How astonishing! (To the dream soldiers, defiantly.) You’re not real, after all. You’re mere shadows, thin air. I’m dying, but you’re not real. This house isn’t real. It couldn’t have holes in it if it were, or at least I couldn’t have seen through it in the first place if it hadn’t. You’re shadows, tissues of nothing, a mere fancy of the brain. Oh, wonderful!