ABBOT--Why did you do it?

HAGGART--I don't know exactly. I heard that Philipp has a mother,
an old woman, and I thought this might please them better--both him
and his mother.

ABBOT--(With restraint.) You are laughing at us?

HAGGART--No. What makes you think I am laughing? I am just as
serious as you are. Did he--did Philipp make this little ship?

No one answers. Mariet, rising and bending over to Haggart across
the table, says:

"Didn't you say this, Haggart: 'My poor boy, I killed you because I
had to kill you, and now I am going to take you to your mother, my
dear boy'?"

"These are very sad words. Who told them to you, Mariet?" asks
Haggart, surprised.

"I heard them. And didn't you say further: 'Mother, I have brought
you your son, and put him down at your door--take your boy, mother'?"

Haggart maintains silence.

"I don't know," roars the abbot bitterly. "I don't know; people
don't kill here, and we don't know how it is done. Perhaps that is
as it should be--to kill and then bring the murdered man to his
mother's threshold. What are you gaping at, you scarecrow?"