MAGDA.
What do you want of me? What am I to you? Yesterday at this time you did not know even whether I still lived; and to-day-- It is madness to demand that I should think and feel again as you do; but I am afraid of you, father, I'm afraid of you all--ah, I am not myself-- [Breaking out in torment.] I cannot bear the sorrow.
SCHWARTZE.
Ha, ha!