ABSTRACT
It is almost dawn. The cell is dark. At first he can hear but not see her. It is a hollow breathing that punctuates the dark. His eyes adjust and for the first time he can make her out, crouched in a corner of the cell. He is there to save her, but she does not want to be saved. No amount of reasoning will help, for she is mad, and therefore beyond reason’s reach. All that is left is the silent vocabulary of a lover: an outstretched arm, a beseeching hand, his imploring eyes. He tries to hold her, console her, kiss her. She is tempted, for a moment, a vague memory of a former, happier time comes to her; but it is replaced with a fear that the man who is holding her is someone or something wholly other. He takes her again, this time by force, dragging her to the door of the cell. She resists. The two are locked in an impossible embrace. How did we get to this heart-wrenching tableau? Let us begin at the beginning.
