Brandon. And you know that he tells us to live dangerously.
Rupert. Yes.
Brandon. And you know that he’s no more respect for individual life than you, and tells us—to—live dangerously. We thought we would do so—that’s all. We have done so. We have only done the thing. Others have talked. We have done. Do you understand?
Rupert. Go on.
Brandon. Listen, Rupert, listen. You’re understanding, I think. You’re the one man to understand. Now apart from all that—quite apart—even if you can’t see how we—look at it, you’ll see that you can’t give us up. Two lives can’t recall one. It’d just be triple murder. You would never allow that. But apart from that too—our lives are in your hands. Your hands, man! I give them into your hands. You can’t kill us. You can’t kill. If you have us up now, it’d be killing us as much as if you were to run us through with that sword in your hand. You’re not a murderer, Rupert.
Rupert. What are you?
Brandon. We aren’t, we aren’t, I tell you! Don’t tell me you’re a slave of your period. In the days of the Borgias you’d have thought nothing of this. For God’s sake tell me you’re an emancipated man. Rupert, you can’t give us up. You know you can’t. You can’t. You can’t! You can’t. . . . (Long pause.) Can you?
[Pause.
Rupert. Yes, I know. There’s every truth in what you’ve said. This is a very queer, dark and incomprehensible universe, and I understand it little. I myself have always tried to apply pure logic to it, and the application of logic can lead us into strange passes. It has done so in this case. You have brought up my own words in my face, and a man should stand by his own words.
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