Heinecke. (Muttering) Yes, yes----
Frau Heinecke. Quit grumbling, Father. Help me make a fire.
Heinecke. Yes--Yes, we'll make a fire, (They both kneel before the stove)
Robert. (To himself) And if I kill him? I'll admit that would be a relief! But the question remains: what will become of them? (Looking toward his parents) I'm afraid that I can't afford the luxury of a sense of honor. (Crying out) Oh, how vile I am!
Heinecke. Something wrong, my boy?
Frau Heinecke. It's because of Alma. He hasn't even been to bed.
Heinecke. Yes, Alma! That's what a man grows gray in honor for. But I always said it: the Avenue'll bring us trouble some day.
Frau Heinecke. (To Heinecke) Father, don't cry! (They embrace)
Robert. (To himself) But someone's heart must break!
Heinecke. Oh, I'm not crying! I'm master of this house! I know what I've got to do! Poor cripple has his honor, too. Think I'll stand for it! My daughter! She'll see! (Swinging the poker) I'll give her my curse! My paternal curse!