NICOLAS (cont.) Your father was a wonderful man. His country is proud of him. He’s dead. He was a man of honor. He’s dead. Are you prepared to insult the memory of your father?

Pause.

NICOLAS (cont.) Are you prepared to defame, to debase, the memory of your father? Your father fought for his country. I knew him. I revered him. Everyone did. He believed in God. He didn’t think, like you shitbags. He lived. He lived. He was iron and gold. He would die, he would die, he would die, for his country, for his God. And he did die, he died, he died, for his God. You turd. To spawn such a daughter. What a fate. Oh, poor, perturbed spirit, to be haunted forever by such scum and spittle. How do you dare speak of your father to me? I loved him, as it he were my own father.

Silence.

NICOLAS (cont.) Where did you meet your husband?

GILA In a street.

NICOLAS What were you doing there?

GILA Walking.

NICOLAS What was he doing?

GILA Walking.

Pause.

GILA (cont.) I dropped something. He picked it up.

NICOLAS What did you drop?

GILA The evening paper.

NICOLAS You were drunk.

Pause.

NICOLAS (cont.) You were drugged.

Pause.

NICOLAS (cont.) You had absconded from your hospital.

GILA I was not in a hospital.

NICOLAS Where are you now?

Pause.

NICOLAS (cont.) Where are you now? Do you think you are in a hospital?

Pause.

NICOLAS (cont.) Do you think we have nuns upstairs?

Pause.

NICOLAS (cont.) What do we have upstairs?

GILA No nuns.

NICOLAS What do we have?

GILA Men.

NICOLAS Have they been raping you?

She stares at him.

NICOLAS (cont.) How many times?

Pause.

NICOLAS (cont.) How many times have you been raped?

Pause.

NICOLAS (cont.) How many times?

He stands, goes to her, lifts his finger.

NICOLAS (cont.) This is my big finger. And this is my little finger. Look. I wave them in front of your eyes. Like this. How many times have you been raped?

GILA I don’t know.

NICOLAS And you consider yourself a reliable witness?

He goes to sideboard, pours drink, sits, drinks.

NICOLAS (cont.) You’re a lovely woman. Well, you were.

He leans back, drinks, sighs.

NICOLAS (cont.) Your son is . . . seven. He’s a little prick. You made him so. You have taught him to be so. You had a choice. You could have encouraged him to be a good person. Instead, you encouraged him to be a little prick. You encouraged him to spit, to strike at soldiers of honor, soldiers of God.

Pause.

NICOLAS (cont.) Oh well . . . in one way I suppose it’s academic.

Pause.

NICOLAS (cont.) You’re of no interest to me. I might even let you out of here, in due course. But I should think you might entertain us all a little more before you go.

Blackout.

LIGHTS UP. NIGHT.

Nicolas standing.