PRINCE. Now I know: you are my sister!
OLD LADY. But—my brother is dead! Have I been deceived? Or are the dead coming back?
PRINCE. Everything comes back.
OLD LADY. Am I dead or am I living?
PRINCE. You may well ask that question, for I don't know the difference. But you are exactly the same as when I parted from you once: just as vain and just as thievish.
OLD LADY. Do you think you are any better?
PRINCE. Perhaps! I am guilty of all the seven deadly sins, but you have invented the eighth one—that of robbing the dead.
OLD LADY. What are you thinking of now?
PRINCE. Twelve years in succession I sent you money to buy a wreath for mother's grave, and instead of buying it you kept the money.
OLD LADY. How do you know?