Reiss. Who knows what you have been doing with this bottle in the mean while?
Well. So you think to escape by your cunning? This moment I see, and you feel, the mark which the Almighty has impressed on your brow. Your mind is callous, and yet you are so struck with terror, that your tongue cleaves to the roof of your mouth, and cannot perform its office.
Reiss. But, you, you--
Well. Silence! Is your soul insensible to the trepidation of your body, or what I have not in my power to do? Here stands the evidence of the crime, there the delinquent, and here I stand, either as judge or a merciful man, if you deliver yourself up vanquished into my hands; and, if not, as your accuser before the tribunal of the public. Kneel down this moment, the sword of justice hangs over your head!
Reiss. (shaking.) My God!
Well. You are at the end of your career! The judgment of heaven is committed to my hands, but mercy reigns in my heart: act in such a manner, that my heart may preponderate; for I am a man whom you have driven to extremes.
Reiss. (with terror.) What, what must I?--
Well. To the extreme, I say. I can hardly refrain from demanding justice.
Reiss. What is your demand then?
Well. For myself I demand nothing. But what does your conscience demand, wicked man? Is it silent? (With warmth;) Then, then I must do what I ought to do.