DR SCHOLZ (_his voice trembling with rage, in a tone of absolute command_). Augusta!—leave the room—this instant!!! AUGUSTA. Well!—I should like to know— DR SCHOLZ. Leave the room this minute. MRS SCHOLZ. Oh, dear God, why can’t I die? Augusta, do you hear? (_crying_) Obey your father! ROBERT. H’m—mother I should blame her if she did. She’s not a little child any longer. Times have changed a bit, God knows. DR SCHOLZ. But I—_I_ have not changed. I am the master in this house—I’ll prove it to you. ROBERT. Ridiculous! DR SCHOLZ (_screaming_). Scoundrels!—Wretches!—I disinherit you—I’ll throw you on the streets. ROBERT. That’s downright funny. DR SCHOLZ (_masters a frightful outburst of rage and speaks with ominous quietness and firmness_). You or I—one of us leaves this house this moment. ROBERT. I, of course, with the greatest of pleasure. MRS SCHOLZ (_half commanding, half entreating_). Robert—stay! DR SCHOLZ. He shall go. MRS SCHOLZ. Fritz, listen to me. He is the only one—all these long lonely years, who didn’t forget us. He— DR SCHOLZ. He or I!— MRS SCHOLZ. Ah, give way, Fritz—for my sake! DR SCHOLZ. Leave me alone—_He or I!_ MRS SCHOLZ. Ah, I won’t ask you to meet each other—it can be arranged quite easily—but— DR SCHOLZ. Very well, I give way—I give way to you and your brood. You and your brood—from to-day you have won the victory! WILLIAM. Stay, dear father—or if you go, let me go with you this time. DR SCHOLZ (_involuntarily stepping back between anger and terror_). Leave me alone! Good-for-nothing! (_fumbling among his things_) Scoundrels and loafers!—Good-for-nothings! WILLIAM (_boiling over_). Father, you call us that—when it’s your doing that—Ah, Father dear, no, no, I will say nothing. Let me go with you. I will stay with you. Let me atone for all that I—(_Laying his hand on his father’s arm._) DR SCHOLZ (_as though paralysed with fright and horror, draws back_). Let go! I tell you—The army of the oppressors shall insuredly—shall assuredly be brought to shame! Are they these people—these mighty ones and these mighty ones—are they men? A man like me, who has his faults, but still for all that is through and through—and up and down—and short and sweet. WILLIAM. Father! father! dear father, come to yourself. Be your own self. DR SCHOLZ (_swaying with the rhythm of the words, half aloud_). And short and sweet—and through and through— WILLIAM (_embracing him, instinctively seeking to control his gestures_). Control yourself, pull yourself together! DR SCHOLZ (_defending himself; imploring like a little child_). Ah! don’t beat me! Don’t punish me! WILLIAM. But for God’s sake— DR SCHOLZ. Don’t beat me!—don’t beat me—again! [_He makes cramped efforts to free himself from William’s arms._ WILLIAM. May my hand perish!—Father dear, don’t think such a thing—dear father, don’t dream it— [_Dr Scholz frees himself, flies from William calling for help._ WILLIAM.