Lothar. (To Kurt, aside) Fine! fine!
Kurt. And furthermore, I should like to know by what right you dare make such a request to me in my own house?
Trast. You refuse?
Kurt. Do you still doubt it, Count?
Lothar. (Aside to him) More cutting, more cutting.
Trast. (Aside) Force--Yes, I doubted it, for I still cherished the slight hope that I was dealing with a man of honor--I beg your pardon--I made a mistake.
Kurt. Sir--that is----
Trast. An insult--yes.
Kurt. Which will be properly dealt with.
Trast. I ask for nothing better.