MARIET--Go--on--Haggart.

HAGGART--You are laughing? Abbot, I don't want to be the husband of
your daughter--she lies.

ABBOT--You are worse than the devil, Gart! That's what I say-- You
are worse than the devil, Gart!

HAGGART--You are all foolish people! I don't understand you; I
don't know now what to do with you. Shall I laugh? Shall I be
angry? Shall I cry? You want to let me go--why, then, don't you let
me go? You are sorry for Philipp. Well, then, kill me--I have told
you that it was I who killed the boy. Am I disputing? But you are
making grimaces like monkeys that have found bananas--or have you
such a game in your land? Then I don't want to play it. And you,
abbot, you are like a juggler in the marketplace. In one hand you
have truth and in the other hand you have truth, and you are forever
performing tricks. And now she is lying--she lies so well that my
heart contracts with belief. Oh, she is doing it well!

And he laughs bitterly.

MARIET--Forgive me, Gart.

HAGGART--When I wanted to kill him, she hung on my hand like a rock,
and now she says that she killed him. She steals from me this
murder; she does not know that one has to earn that, too! Oh, there
are queer people in your land!