<SPAN name="SHE_IS_ILL"></SPAN>
<h2><b>SHE IS ILL</b></h2>
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<p><i>A bed-room in the country-house; autumnal
sunshine filters in through closed blinds</i>.
SHE <i>lies on a couch, apparently asleep,
dressed in a white woolen gown</i>. KIKI-THE-DEMURE
<i>makes his toilet on a narrow
console-table</i>. TOBY-DOG, <i>on the carpet,
in a sphinx-like attitude, watches</i> HER
<i>and at the same time, is attentive to the
words of his master, who is leaving the
room on tip-toe.</i></p>
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<p class="center">HE, (<i>in a very low voice to the two animals</i>)</p>
<p>Sh! Don't wake her. Be good. I'm going
downstairs, to write.</p>
<p>(<i>He closes the door noiselessly
after him</i>.)</p>
<p class="center">TOBY-DOG (<i>to</i> KIKI-THE-DEMURE)</p>
<p>What did He say?</p>
<p class="center">KIKI-THE-DEMURE</p>
<p>I don't know. Something vague. Directions,
like: stay there, good-by.</p>
<p class="center">TOBY-DOG</p>
<p>He said, "'Sh!" <i>I'm</i> not making any noise.</p>
<p class="center">KIKI-THE-DEMURE, (<i>ironically</i>)</p>
<p>They're astonishing! They say "no
noise," and thereupon walk off with a step a
deaf rat could hear two miles away.</p>
<p class="center">TOBY-DOG</p>
<p>Some truth in that. (<i>He looks at the
sleeping figure on the couch</i>.) Her face still
looks very small. She's asleep. If you
jump down from that table don't land with
a big thump.</p>
<p class="center">KIKI-THE-DEMURE, (<i>stiffly</i>)</p>
<p>Ah, you're teaching me to jump now, are
you? Oh, worthy counselor! (<i>quoting</i>) Put
a beggar in your barn and he'll make himself
your heir.</p>
<p class="center">TOBY-DOG</p>
<p>What's that?</p>
<p class="center">KIKI-THE-DEMURE</p>
<p>Nothing. An Oriental proverb. If I
wished, dog, to disturb the silence of this
room I'd be clever enough to choose a rickety
chair; its feet would pound out a regular
tic-toc, tic-toc, tic-toc, in time with my
tongue as I washed myself. It's a means
I've invented to gain my liberty. Tic-toc,
tic-toc, says the chair. She happens to be
reading or writing, is easily irritated, and
cries, "Be quiet, Kiki!" But I go on unconscious
of any wrong-doing; tic-toc, tic-toc.
She jumps up distracted and opens
the door wide for me: slowly, like one exiled, I
cross its threshold and once outside, laugh
to find myself so superior to them all.</p>
<p class="center">TOBY-DOG (<i>who hasn't been listening,
yawns</i>)</p>
<p>What a sad week, eh? I don't know what
it is to take a walk any more. I haven't
taken any pleasure in eating either, since She
fell from her horse.</p>
<p class="center">KIKI-THE-DEMURE</p>
<p>Heavens, one can love people and care for
one's stomach too.</p>
<p class="center">TOBY-DOG (<i>with ardor</i>)</p>
<p>Not I! When She screamed and fell from
her horse, I felt the heart crack inside me.</p>
<p class="center">KIKI-THE-DEMURE</p>
<p>That affair couldn't have ended otherwise.
One doesn't go climbing up on a horse! People
don't do such things! I see nothing but
extravagance around me. To begin
with, a horse is a fearful monstrosity.</p>
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<p class="center">TOBY-DOG (<i>indignantly</i>)</p>
<p>Did one ever hear the like!</p>
<p class="center">KIKI-THE-DEMURE, (<i>peremptorily</i>)</p>
<p>I happen to have had the opportunity of
making a very close study of one....</p>
<p class="center">TOBY-DOG (<i>aside</i>)</p>
<p>He makes me laugh!</p>
<p class="center">KIKI-THE-DEMURE</p>
... It was the farmer's horse that grazed
in the meadow. My life, for a whole month,
was embittered by that roving mountain.
Lying under the hedge, I could see his heavy
feet disfiguring the ground. I breathed his
vulgar odor and heard his strident cry shaking
the air. Once when he was eating the
lower twigs of the hedge, I saw myself—the
whole of me—reflected in one of his
eyes! I fled ... and from that day my hatred
was so strong that I wildly hoped to
annihilate the monster. I'll go up to him,
thought I, I'll plant myself firmly in front
of him, and the desire of his death will be
so strong in my eyes, that perhaps, he'll die
when he meets my look...
<p class="center">TOBY-DOG (<i>diverted</i>)</p>
<p>And then?</p>
<p class="center">KIKI-THE-DEMURE, (<i>continuing</i>)</p>
<p>I carried out my plan. But the horse I
had waited for in fear and trembling, just
blew through his nostrils a long jet of foul-smelling
vapor, and <i>I</i> fell back in atrocious
convulsions.</p>
<p class="center">TOBY-DOG (<i>Inwardly writhing with laughter</i>)</p>
<p>You don't exaggerate?</p>
<p class="center">KIKI-THE-DEMURE, (<i>serious</i>)</p>
<p>Never! And She must needs go climbing
on a horse's back, holding fast to four
cords, one leg this side and the other that. ... Strange aberration!
<p class="center">TOBY-DOG</p>
<p>We don't think alike, Cat. For me, the
horse is, after man, the most beautiful thing
in the world.</p>
<p class="center">KIKI-THE-DEMURE, (<i>vexed</i>)</p>
<p>And where do I come in?</p>
<p class="center">TOBY-DOG (<i>evasive and courteous</i>)</p>
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<p>Oh, you're a <i>Cat</i>. But a horse, and with
Her on his back! What a beautiful picture
they make, high up in the blue air!
To gaze on it, I have to throw my head 'way
back on my thick neck. The horse lends
her his speed. Now at last, She can race
with me when I go off on a mad run. Sometimes
I'm ahead, ears floating back and
tongue hanging out like a little flag—the
angular shadow of the horse on the road in
front. If I follow her, a fragrant dust
blows back at me. It smells of warm leather,
moist beast, and a little of her own perfume
too. The road runs under me, like a
ribbon that someone is pulling. Oh, what
joy it is to be so little and so swift, running
along in the shadow of a great galloping
horse! When we halt, I pant like a motor,
between the legs of my friend, who snorts
and in the kindliest way puts down his fettered
mouth and sprinkles me ...</p>
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<p class="center">KIKI-THE-DEMURE</p>
<p>I know, I know! The horse "with long
mane ashake; hoofs, heavy with tumult;
eyes, glimmering white." ...You are the
last of the Romanticists.</p>
<p class="center">TOBY-DOG</p>
<p>I'm not the last of the Romanticists. I'm
a little bull-dog that came into the world
one evening, almost under the feet of a chestnut
mare. She didn't lie down all night
long, she was so afraid of crushing my
mother and her puppies. A little bull-dog
like me is almost the child of a horse. I lay
in the warm straw against her warm flanks,
I drank out of the stable pails. I used to
get up when I heard the sound of hoofs
coming in and I took an interest in the
washing of the carriages, until the day
She came and picked me out—<i>me</i>, the best-looking,
the most snub-nosed, the stockiest of
the litter. (<i>Sighing</i>.) And there She lies,
so dreadfully quiet! It makes me sad to see
her with that little cloth still 'round her
ankle. You remember when He picked her
up in his arms? He held her—and She's a
lot bigger than I am—just as if She were
a little dog that he was going to drown....</p>
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<p class="center">KIKI-THE-DEMURE, (<i>bitterly</i>)</p>
<p>I remember. I was at the top of the
stairs irritated by the noise, but curious.
He came up and pushed me aside with his
foot, as he would have done if a piece of
furniture had happened to be in his way.</p>
<p class="center">TOBY-DOG</p>
<p>Is that why you stayed away from this
room—her room—for three whole days?</p>
<p class="center">KIKI-THE-DEMURE, (<i>hesitating</i>)</p>
<p>Yes ... and for another reason too.</p>
<p class="center">TOBY-DOG</p>
<p>What reason?</p>
<p class="center">KIKI-THE-DEMURE</p>
<p>Because of the fever.</p>
<p class="center">TOBY-DOG (<i>carried away by his love</i>)</p>
<p>Her fever smells better than other peoples'
good health!</p>
<p class="center">KIKI-THE-DEMURE, (<i>shrugging his shoulders</i>)</p>
<p>And they talk of a dog's scent! Truly
the convictions of Two-Paws are based upon
childish fables. You know of course that
fever—</p>
<p class="center">TOBY-DOG (<i>in a low tone</i>)</p>
<p>Makes one afraid, yes.</p>
<p class="center">KIKI-THE-DEMURE, (<i>in a low tone</i>)</p>
<p>Makes one afraid, gives one cold shivers
down one's back, distaste for everything and
uneasiness all over. One hesitates on the
threshold of a room where there is fever,
searching fearfully some hidden thing....
She was in bed and burning hot. I looked at
her a long time, ready to run, saying to myself:
"Who can be with her there—behind
the curtains—who is it stifles and torments
her and makes her moan in her sleep?"</p>
<p class="center">TOBY-DOG (<i>frightened retrospectively</i>)</p>
<p>There wasn't anyone, was there?</p>
<p class="center">KIKI-THE-DEMURE</p>
<p>No one but He—and the fever. He, the
most intelligent of Two-Paws, was leaning
over her listening to her breathing, dimly
aware of an invisible presence. I overcame
my aversion and looked at her. I was melancholy
and jealous. He must love her,
thought I, to go so near and defend her,
to kiss her, imbued as She is with the evil
charm. Would He hold me to his heart, if
I—</p>
<p class="center">TOBY-DOG (<i>imperatively</i>)</p>
<p>'Sh!</p>
<p class="center">KIKI-THE-DEMURE</p>
<p>What?</p>
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<p class="center">TOBY-DOG</p>
<p>She stirred.</p>
<p class="center">KIKI-THE-DEMURE</p>
<p>No.</p>
<p class="center">TOBY-DOG (<i>alert, looking at her</i>)</p>
<p>No ... She didn't stir, but her thoughts
did. I felt them. Continue.</p>
<p class="center">KIKI-THE-DEMURE, (<i>who has recovered his
equanimity</i>)</p>
<p>I don't know now what we were talking
about.</p>
<p class="center">TOBY-DOG</p>
<p>The fev—</p>
<p class="center">KIKI-THE-DEMURE, (<i>quickly</i>)</p>
<p>Enough. Don't recall it. Fever is the
beginning of the thing one never speaks of.</p>
<p class="center">TOBY-DOG (<i>shivering</i>)</p>
<p>Yes, I know.... I don't like an animal
that can't move. You know what I mean ...</p>
<p class="center">KIKI-THE-DEMURE, (<i>laughing cruelly</i>)</p>
<p>Nor do I. I can only eat live birds, and
as for the tiny mice, I prefer to swallow
them, squeak and all ...</p>
<p class="center">TOBY-DOG</p>
<p>Why does it amuse you to horrify me?
You've a certain vanity that I can't understand.
It consists in exaggerating cruelties
that are already real enough. You call me
the last of the Romanticists, aren't you the
first of the Sadics?</p>
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<p class="center">KIKI-THE-DEMURE</p>
<p>Oh dog, poisoned with literature! An
eternal misunderstanding separates us.
"I'm a little bull-dog," you replied just now,
with that stupid sincerity which disarms me.
Let me say to you in my turn, "I am a
Cat." The name is sufficient dispensation.
There is in me a hatred of pain and ugliness,
an overmastering detestation of all
that offends my sight, or my reason. When
the concierge's cat dragged around his
wounded paw, I threw myself upon him, fired
by a righteous anger, and until he stopped
his whining I—</p>
<p class="center">TOBY-DOG (<i>supplicatingly</i>)</p>
<p>Don't tell me!</p>
<p class="center">KIKI-THE-DEMURE, (<i>getting angry</i>)</p>
<p>Understand then, once and for all—if
the pale recital of what I did upsets you—that
I wished to abolish, to annihilate in that
bleeding animal the suggestion of my own
inevitable death ...</p>
<p>(<i>They are quiet for a little
while</i>.)</p>
<p class="center">KIKI-THE-DEMURE, (<i>shuddering</i>)</p>
<p>This confinement does us no good. I
would gladly go out into the soft sunshine
and do "the bayadeer's dance," as He
calls it, on the dry gravel among the leaves,
which look like fried potatoes. Everything
is yellow out-of-doors. My green eyes would
reflect the golden sun and the flaming woods
and so turn yellow too. ... Now I'll think
only of what is joyous and yellow, the beautiful,
cold Autumn, the rosy dawn that leaves
its colors in the foliage of the cherry-tree
... Come, let's prove the strength of our
legs and enjoy to the full the consciousness
that youth has only just begun for us ...
Who knows, death may never come ...</p>
<p>(<i>He jumps down from the
console-table, without making
the least noise</i>.)</p>
<p class="center">TOBY-DOG (<i>stopping him</i>)</p>
<p>What are you going to do?</p>
<p class="center">KIKI-THE-DEMURE</p>
<p>Scratch at the door, and strike up the
"Hymn of the Sequestered Cat."</p>
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<p class="center">TOBY-DOG (<i>indicating the figure on the
couch</i>)</p>
<p>And doubtless waken Her?</p>
<p class="center">KIKI-THE-DEMURE, (<i>stubbornly</i>)</p>
<p>I'll sing in a very small voice.</p>
<p class="center">TOBY-DOG</p>
<p>And you'll scratch with your tiniest claws,
I suppose? Stay here quietly, He commanded
it when He went away.</p>
<p class="center">KIKI-THE-DEMURE, (<i>loftily</i>)</p>
<p>Does He command me? He beseeches me,
and that's my only reason for obeying him.</p>
<p>(<i>He sits down again, apparently
resigned, and yawns
slowly</i>.)</p>
<p class="center">TOBY-DOG (<i>yawning</i>)</p>
<p>You make me yawn.</p>
<p class="center">KIKI-THE-DEMURE</p>
<p>On the contrary, it's you who bore me.
(<i>Temptingly</i>.) You're thinking what a
good thing freedom is, aren't you? ... A
hen has probably escaped from the chicken
yard—what sport you're missing!</p>
<p class="center">TOBY-DOG</p>
<p>You really think so?</p>
<p class="center">KIKI-THE-DEMURE</p>
<p>I said: probably.... Have you finished
exploring that rabbit's hole?</p>
<p class="center"><ANTIMG border="0" alt=" " src="gifs/117.gif" width-obs="347" height-obs="148" /></p>
<p class="center">TOBY-DOG (<i>disturbed</i>)</p>
<p>No ... it's so very deep! I almost buried
myself, hollowing it out yesterday. The
earth that stuck to my muzzle had some of
the animal's fur in it ...</p>
<p class="center">KIKI-THE-DEMURE, (<i>more and more satanic</i>)</p>
<p>I suppose you'll finish that to-morrow ...
or some other day.</p>
<p class="center">TOBY-DOG (<i>sadly</i>)</p>
<p>Why not say next year, while you're
about it?</p>
<p class="center">KIKI-THE-DEMURE</p>
<p>What's the matter with you? Your shiny
black lip hangs down an ell, and your froggy
eyes glitter with tears. Are you crying?</p>
<p class="center">TOBY-DOG (<i>sniffling</i>)</p>
<p>No ...</p>
<p class="center"><ANTIMG border="0" alt=" " src="gifs/118.gif" width-obs="375" height-obs="144" /></p>
<p class="center">KIKI-THE-DEMURE</p>
<p>Poor, sensitive heart, console yourself.
You'll have your pleasures and your friends
again. At this very moment the farmer's
dog is crunching bones in the kitchen ...
to beguile the long wait for you.</p>
<p class="center">TOBY-DOG (<i>overcome</i>)</p>
<p>Oh! oh! the farmer's dog!</p>
<p class="center">KIKI-THE-DEMURE</p>
<p>She's not alone either; that great dane,
the watch-dog, keeps her company.</p>
<p class="center">TOBY-DOG (<i>rebellious</i>)</p>
<p>That's not true!</p>
<p class="center">KIKI-THE-DEMURE</p>
<p>Go see.</p>
<p class="center">TOBY-DOG (<i>after one bound toward the
door</i>)</p>
<p>No, that would make noise.</p>
<p class="center">KIKI-THE-DEMURE</p>
<p>You're right, it would.</p>
<p>(<i>A mournful silence follows</i>.
TOBY <i>curls himself up like
a turban and closes his
eyes, because he feels like
crying. His breath comes
in little sobs</i>.)</p>
<p class="center">KIKI-THE-DEMURE, (<i>absently, in a low, monotonous
chant</i>.)</p>
<p>The dog ... the little dog ... the
bones, the little dog ... the rabbit ...
the great dane, the rabbit's hole...the
little dog, the mutton bones...the rabbit's
skin...</p>
<p class="center">TOBY-DOG <i>at first endures
the torture heroically; then
his nerves betray him and
lifting his head he howls—the
long plaint of the abandoned
dog</i>.</p>
<p>Wooo—oo—oooooo!</p>
<p class="center">KIKI-THE-DEMURE, (<i>from the top of the console-table</i>)</p>
<p>Will you be quiet!</p>
<p class="center">TOBY-DOG</p>
<p>Wooooooooo!!--oo—oooo—oo!</p>
<p class="center">KIKI-THE-DEMURE, (<i>aside</i>)</p>
<p>That's it! That's it!</p>
<p>(SHE <i>wakes bewildered, still
captive of her dreams, while
the Cat listens patiently to
the approaching step on the
stairs, which means liberty
for him and punishment for</i>
TOBY-DOG.)</p>
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