Based on ‘The Brothers Karamazov’ by Dostoyevsky,  Delirium is a play about three brothers, Mitya, Ivan and Alyosha. Ivan is in love with Katerina, but Katerina is engaged to Mitya. However, Mitya is besotted with his father’s lover, Grushenka. In this speech, Katerina make it clear to Ivan that her devotion to Mitya will remain absolute, no matter what…

Ivan. I’ve been trying to pull together the bits of me that have been lied to, been used, been betrayed. Tried to bundle up emotions that feel shredded, stamped on…It’s impossible for me to fully  understand the extend of my suffering, but it exists and it needs gathering…it needs… ‘direction’, I call it. So I thought it was important to find some words that would steer me into and through this new direction. And the words that burned into me…that…in even saying these…and they are terribly old words, Ivan…but with these two words I can see a purpose to me…the words I see are ‘honour’ and ‘duty’. (Slight pause.) Honour this man. Never abandon this man. Even if this man hates me, betrays me, I will follow him always. And he may tell me to leave and I will leave but I will watch over this man all my life. And when he needs a friend, a sister, I will come to him and be his sister. This is my religion, my quest. He is my devotion. (Slight pause.) And even if…and I feel he may well do, Ivan…even if Mitya breaks our engagement and follows this bitch, Grushenka…honour and duty will guide me through any heartache, I’m sure of it. There is no heartache for me. Mitya is my charge, my vocation, my purpose. My whole life I will be a machine for his happiness. I will…[…] I’m not explaining myself properly! You may think that I’m clinging on, that I still have hope, that I will only live if I feel that I am saving mine and Mitya’s romance. I mustn’t think about that now. I can’t think about that any more! I’m not thinking about that impossibly slim chance. So listen again. […] I will be the ground he walks on. I will be the steps he climbs, the door he opens, the hallway he enters, the banister he places his hand on. I will be the shirt he takes off, the rug the shirt has fallen on. I will be the bed he lies on, the sheets that cover his back, the pillow his hand clenches in ecstasy, his toilet, the tissue paper he wipes himself with. The air Mitya breathes, the air that dries his brow. I am the ruffled bed he returns to from the bathroom. His darkness as he lies back beside Grushenka. A darkness that soothes his soul, that calms his breath, that finds him peace, that gives him sleep…