Isle of the Dead

The doctor will tell you what to do
and I will see that you do it.

We will fight the plague.
Well, if I have to be quarantined,
I couldn't pick prettier company.

I'm sorry.
Actually, I wish you weren't here at all,
that you were safe away.

That's what I really mean.
That's what I should have said.

Wash all you want to.
You cannot wash away evil.

There is one among us
who brings punishment on us all.

If you'd forget about the evil spirits
just long enough to pass us the towels...

I'd be greatly obliged to you.
What nonsense the old woman talks.
It sounds no stranger to me than some
of the things you've been saying.

Good winds and bad winds.
I've explained that to you.
The disease is transmitted by fleas.

Their bodies have
an 80% moisture content.

The hot wind from the south
literally burns them away.

If the sirocco blows,
all danger will be over in 24 hours.

Kyra sounds just as logical to me.
That the gods send plague to punish men
for harboring the Vorvolaka.

- Vorvolaka? What's that?
- Some old peasant superstition.

An elemental wolf-spirit.
Some such thing in human form.
They say it drains people of their strength
and vitality until they die.

Kyra will tell you that there's more to it.
That the Vorvolaka is an evil
for which the gods punish us mortals.

I suppose the next thing you know
she'll be telling us that the Vorvolaka...

walks among us. What nonsense.
The doctor is the doctor,
and we'll do as he says.

Certainly. But one might as well
go out on the cliff...

and build a votive fire to Hermes.
- Not that I believe in Hermes, either.
- You had better believe in the doctor.

- He's the only one who can save us.
- We'll make a wager.

The doctor can use his science,
I'll pray to Hermes.