ALICE. Yes, go! You always go, always show your back, whenever the fight becomes too much for you. And then you let your wife cover the retreat—you hero of the bottle, you arch-braggart, you arch-liar! Fie on you!
CURT. This is bottomless!
ALICE. And you don't know everything yet.
CURT. Is there anything more——
ALICE. But I am ashamed——
CURT. Where is he going now? And where does he get the strength?
ALICE. Yes, you may well ask! Now he goes down to the non-commissioned officers and thanks them for the flowers—and then he eats and drinks with them. And then he speaks ill of all the other officers—If you only knew how many times he has been threatened with discharge! Nothing but sympathy for his family has saved him. And this he takes for fear of his superiority. And he hates and maligns the very women—wives of other officers—who have been pleading our cause.
CURT. I have to confess that I applied for this position in order to find peace by the sea—and of your circumstances I knew nothing at all.
ALICE. Poor Curt! And how will you get something to eat?
CURT. Oh, I can go over to the doctor's—but you? Will you not permit me to arrange this for you?