CURT. [Coldly] No.
ALICE. This delay makes me impatient, and when I grow impatient I push matters along—Look, Curt, how I give him the final bullet. And now he'll bite the grass! First, I load—I know all about rifle practice, the famous rifle practice of which less than 5,000 copies were sold—and then I aim—fire! [She takes aim with her sunshade] How is your new wife? The young, beautiful, unknown one? You don't know! But I know how my lover is doing. [Puts her arms around the neck of CURT and kisses him; he thrusts her away from himself] He is well, although still a little bashful! You wretch, whom I have never loved—you, who were too conceited to be jealous—you never saw how I was leading you by the nose!
The CAPTAIN draws the sabre and makes a leap at her, aiming at her several futile blows that only hit the furniture.
ALICE. Help! Help!
[CURT does not move.
CAPTAIN. [Falls with the sabre in his hand] Judith, avenge me!
ALICE. Hooray! He's dead!
[CURT withdraws toward the door in the background.
CAPTAIN. [Gets on his feet] Not yet! [Sheathes the sabre and sits down in the easy-chair by the sewing-table] Judith! Judith!
ALICE. [Drawing nearer to CURT] Now I go—with you!