Rebecca.
[After a pause.] Yes, very fortunate. It would have been most unfortunate for you if you had ever entertained the idea. If your father or mine entertain it, we must speedily end that. Go on with your scullerymaid; it's nothing to me.
Rafael.
No, it's nothing to you, Rebecca! You and I don't want to marry, and they are trying to chain us together against our wills! We must fight them, Rebecca! We must put our backs against the wall! Your father will whisper avarice to you. He'll bid you look around. "This is thy neighbour's house," he'll say. "It will all be Rafael's; see—see—treasure, value, gain; see the jewels there, the gold and silver, the rich laces and old articles of art—all his, my girl—and his father will die soon! He'll die of joy if he gets eight thousand guilders with his daughter-in-law. And then it will be all yours—yours and Rafael's; yours to hug and wrap your soul around, my girl; all—all, from the last atom of diamond dust in the cases there, to the rust on the nail in the latch on the door that keeps away the moans of the starving!"
Rebecca.
But do you think——?
Rafael.
But you won't be betrayed by an old man's lust for gold. No! You'll say: "Father, I have a heart; I will not give myself to one I do not love, to soothe your itching palm!" You'll look well saying that, Rebecca! You'll stand and face him in the dignity of truth! You'll be defending the next generation against the crawling viper of greed! I'd like to be there! I'd like to see the flash in your eyes; even now you cannot think of it without fire in your look! I see the anger of righteousness; I cannot too deeply express my respect, Rebecca!
Rebecca.
Do you think I don't know what you mean? You think I want to marry you—to get you away from this vile creature—this unthinkable person who——