HUGENBERG. RODRIGO. Oh, yah, we've seen each other here before! Cut away now to your vice-mamma. Your kid brother might like to uncle his brothers and sisters. Make your sir-papa the grandfather of his children! You're the only [Pg 19] thing we've missed. If you once get into my sight in the next two weeks, I'll beat your bean up for porridge. RODRIGO. [Pg 19] ALVA. Be quiet, you! ALVA. HUGENBERG. I'm a fool! HUGENBERG. RODRIGO. What do you want to do with your fire? Don't you know the lady's been dead three weeks? RODRIGO. HUGENBERG. Did they cut off her head? HUGENBERG. RODRIGO. No, she's got that still. She was mashed by the cholera. RODRIGO. HUGENBERG. That is not true! HUGENBERG. RODRIGO. What do you know about it! There, read it: here! (Taking out a paper and pointing to the place.) “The murderess of Dr. Schön....” (Gives Hugenberg the paper. He reads:) RODRIGO. HUGENBERG. “The murderess of Dr. Schön has in some incomprehensible way fallen ill of the cholera in prison.” It doesn't say that she's dead. HUGENBERG.
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