THE MUFFLED GENTLEMAN--Would you not recognize your worthy father by his voice? MELCHIOR--No. THE MUFFLED GENTLEMAN--The gentleman, your father, is seeking comfort at this moment in the capable arms of your mother.--I open the world to you. Your momentary want of balance springs from your wretched situation. With a hot supper in your belly, you can laugh at it. MELCHIOR--[_To himself._] They can’t both be the devil!--[_Aloud._] After what I have been guilty of, no hot supper can give my peace of mind back to me! THE MUFFLED GENTLEMAN--That depends on the supper!--So much I can tell you: that the little girl would have borne her child first rate! She was perfectly built. She simply succumbed to Mother Schmidtin’s abortives.--I will take you among men. I will give you an opportunity to expand your horizon beyond your wildest dreams. I will make you acquainted with everything interesting, without exception, that the world has to offer. MELCHIOR--Who are you? Who are you?--I can’t consign myself to a person I don’t know! THE MUFFLED GENTLEMAN--You’ll never learn to know me unless you entrust yourself to me. MELCHIOR--Do you think so? THE MUFFLED GENTLEMAN--Fact!--And anyway you have no choice. MELCHIOR--I can at any moment give my friend here my hand. THE MUFFLED GENTLEMAN--Your friend is a charlatan. Nobody smiles, who has one penny left in his pocket. The sublimated humorist is the wretchedest, most pitiable creature in creation! MELCHIOR--Let the humorist be what he will. Tell me who =you= are, or I’ll give the humorist my hand! THE MUFFLED GENTLEMAN--Well?! MORITZ--He is right, Melchior. I have been putting on airs. Let him treat you, and make full use of him. No matter how muffled he may be, he is, at least, that! MELCHIOR--Do you believe in God? THE MUFFLED GENTLEMAN--That depends. MELCHIOR--Do you want to tell me who discovered gunpowder? THE MUFFLED GENTLEMAN--Berthold Schwarz--alias Constantine Anklitzen--round 1330, a Franciscan monk at Freiburg-im-Breisgau. MORITZ--What would I give to have had him let it alone! THE MUFFLED GENTLEMAN--You would merely have hanged yourself! MELCHIOR--What do you think about morality? THE MUFFLED GENTLEMAN--Look here!--am I your schoolboy? MELCHIOR--Ask me what you are! MORITZ--Don’t quarrel!--Please don’t quarrel! What good will come of that?--What are we sitting, one dead and two live men, here together in the churchyard at two in the morning for, if we want to fall out like tipplers!--It was for my pleasure that I was allowed to remain and witness the proceedings. If you want to quarrel, I’ll take my head under my arm and go. MELCHIOR--You’re still the same old runaway! THE MUFFLED GENTLEMAN--The ghost isn’t so wrong. One shouldn’t ignore one’s dignity.--By morality I understand the real product of two imaginary quantities. The imaginary quantities are should and would.[7] The product is called morality, and its reality is unquestionable.