Robert. You talk like someone trying to make a virtue out of necessity.
Trast. Perhaps--because every virtue is a direct result of necessity.
Robert. And my family?
Trast. I didn't think you had a family now! (Robert buries his face in his hands) I understand--it's a contraction of the nerves after the limb is amputated.--Don't deceive yourself! Even though the foot still pains you, the leg is gone!
Robert. You never had a sister!
Trast.--Tell me, must I, the aristocrat, learn what abasement means from you, a plebeian? My boy, don't forswear your parents. Don't say that they are worse than you or I.--They are different, that's all. Their sensations are sensations that are strange to you, the point of view they hold is simply beyond your comprehension. Therefore to criticize them is not only narrow-minded, but presumptuous--And you may as well know soon as late: in your struggle with your people you have been wrong from beginning to end!
Robert. Trast, you say that!
Trast. I take the liberty--You come back from a foreign country where you have been associating with triple-plated gentlemen, and then you expect your people, in order to please you, to change the very skins they live in; although they've fitted perfectly all these years! That is immodest, my boy! And your sister has really received back her honor from the family Muhlingk; the honor which she can make use of. For everything on this earth has its price and value. The honor of the Avenue may be paid for with blood--may be, I said. The honor of the Alley is restituted with a little capital, in integrum. (As Robert steps towards him angrily) Don't eat me up! I haven't finished! Yes--what other significance has a girl's honor--and that's what we're concerned with now--than to bring a sort of dowry of pure-heartedness and honesty to her husband. She is there for one purpose and that is marriage! Just be so good as to make a few inquiries in the society from which you come and see if your sister, with the money that has dropped into her lap, can't make a much better match than she otherwise could!
Robert. Trast, you are cruel, you are crude!
Trast. Crude like Nature, cruel like Truth! Only the indolent and the cowardly surround themselves a tout prix with idyllics--But you have nothing to do with them now. Come, give me your hand, shake the dust of home off your feet and don't look back!