RODRIGO--Well, what else do you suppose she is? She’s been lying in the churchyard three weeks. Back in the left-hand corner behind the rubbish-heap where the little crosses are with no names on them, there she lies under the first one. You’ll know the spot because the grass hasn’t grown on it. Hang a tin wreath there, and then get back to your nursery-school or I’ll denounce you to the police. I know the female that beguiles her leisure hours with you! HUGENBERG--[_To_ ALVA.] Is it true that she’s dead? ALVA--Thank God, yes!--Please, do not keep me here any longer. My doctor has forbidden me to receive visitors. HUGENBERG--My future life means so little now! I would gladly have given the last scrap of what life is worth to me for her happiness. Heigh-ho! One way or another I’ll sure go to the devil now! RODRIGO--If you dare in any way to approach me or the doctor here or my honorable friend Schigolch too near, I’ll inform on you for intended arson. You need three good years of prison to learn where not to stick your fingers in! Now get out! HUGENBERG--Fool! RODRIGO--Get out! [_Throws him out the door. Coming down._] I wonder you didn’t put your purse at that rogue’s disposal, too! ALVA--I won’t stand your damned jabbering! The boy’s little finger is worth more than all you! RODRIGO--I’ve had enough of this Geschwitz’s company! If my bride is to become a corporation with limited liability, somebody else can go in ahead of me. I propose to make a magnificent trapeze-artiste out of her, and willingly risk my life to do it. But then I’ll be master of the house, and will myself indicate what cavaliers she is to receive! ALVA--The boy has what our age lacks: a hero-nature; therefore, of course, he is going to ruin. Do you remember how before sentence was passed he jumped out of the witness-box and yelled at the justice: “How do you know what would have become of =you= if you’d had to run around the cafés barefoot every night when you were ten years old?” RODRIGO--If I could only have given him one in the jaw for that right away! Thank God, there are jails where scum like that gets some respect for the law pounded into them. ALVA--One like him might have been my model for my “World-conqueror.” For twenty years literature has presented nothing but demi-men: men who can beget no children and women who can bear none. That’s called “The Modern Problem.”