ASTROFF. When the impulse came to shoot, it would have been as
well had you put a bullet through your own head.

VOITSKI. [Shrugging his shoulders] Strange! I attempted murder,
and am not going to be arrested or brought to trial. That means
they think me mad. [With a bitter laugh] Me! I am mad, and those
who hide their worthlessness, their dullness, their crying
heartlessness behind a professor's mask, are sane! Those who marry
old men and then deceive them under the noses of all, are sane! I
saw you kiss her; I saw you in each other's arms!

ASTROFF. Yes, sir, I did kiss her; so there. [He puts his thumb
to his nose.]

VOITSKI. [His eyes on the door] No, it is the earth that is mad,
because she still bears us on her breast.

ASTROFF. That is nonsense.

VOITSKI. Well? Am I not a madman, and therefore irresponsible?
Haven't I the right to talk nonsense?

ASTROFF. This is a farce! You are not mad; you are simply a
ridiculous fool. I used to think every fool was out of his
senses, but now I see that lack of sense is a man's normal state,
and you are perfectly normal.

VOITSKI. [Covers his face with his hands] Oh! If you knew how
ashamed I am! These piercing pangs of shame are like nothing on
earth. [In an agonised voice] I can't endure them! [He leans