Quoted By:
Inside the tumbrel, Dallywhimper is trying desperately to shake the Savant-Philosopher Hieronymous Erde out of his numb stupor:
- Wake up, Erde! They are going to execute us! That sentence of exile was just announced to maintain the pretense of civility and the Beldame's mercy, before all the Court and her Highborn guests. We are actually going to be executed!
Dallywhimper slaps the Philosopher's face repeatedly (he is quite weak). Hieronymous just endures it, dead-eyed. In a dazed, overwhelmed mouth agape expressionless tone, as he is being repeatedly slapped in the face, The Philosopher laments:
- You imbecile, Dallywhimper. Do you know what attainder means? It means I am no longer Highborn. I am a nothing. It is as if I am already dead. Most people do not die until the last moment, others die twenty years in advance, sometimes more. Yet I am the true unfortunate. My genius to the world: lost. It matters not now how I meet my end. My genius! Me. Me. (he stifles a sob) Me...
Dallywhimper stops slapping the Philosopher's face. It is as if he has suddenly worked out something...
- Perhaps, Hieronymous Erde, for once it is not about you! That wicked Vicomte Varin de Sou... he was so quick to accuse us of being spies. All know he hates you, how he is obsessed with dungeons. But the Vicomte never liked my inventions, my cannons and flying sky-galleons either; the dungeoneers... he called them "dungeon-punks".
