I beg your pardon, Herr von Brachtmann, I thought truth was truth, no matter who uttered it.
Prince.
What is truth? said Pilate.
Norbert.
And washed his hands. We also wash our hands of many things, your Highness. I have even heard it said that the use of soap and water is the only thing that distinguishes us from the masses. But no matter how much washing we do, we can't wash off the blood we have shed in the abuse of our class-privileges.
Prince (to Richard). Very neatly parried. He has a good wrist.
Richard.
My dear Norbert, will you give your venerable parent a hearing? We have left far behind us many of what you call our "class-privileges"; but their traditional spirit still survives. And that spirit, whether the modern world condemns it, or the middle-classes make it ridiculous by aping it--that spirit is the safeguard of our order. Believe me, Norbert, we must stand or fall by it.
Norbert.
Then we must fall, father.