[Gives him hat and stick.] Here, here!
SCHWARTZE.
So! [To Magda.] Learn to thank the God, in whom you disbelieve, that he has preserved your father until this hour, for he shall bring you back your honor!
MAGDA.
[Kneeling, and kissing his hand.] Don't do it, father! I don't deserve this of you.
SCHWARTZE.
[Bends weeping over her head.] My poor, poor child!
MAGDA.
[Calling after him.] Father!
[Exit Schwartze quickly.