Haggart replies morosely:
“Go home, priest! Mariet will stay with me.”
“Let her stay with you. I don’t need her, and if you need her, take her. Take her, Haggart. But—”
He kneels before him. A murmur of astonishment. Mariet, frightened, advances a step to her father.
“Father! You are kneeling?”
ABBOT—Robber! Give us back the money. You will rob more for yourself, but give this money to us. You are young yet, you will rob some more yet—
HAGGART—You are insane! There’s a man—he will drive the devil himself to despair! Listen, priest, I am shouting to you: You have simply lost your mind!
The abbot, still kneeling, continues:
“Perhaps, I have—by God, I don’t know. Robber, dearest, what is this to you? Give us this money. I feel sorry for them, for the scoundrels! They rejoiced so much, the scoundrels. They blossomed forth like an old blackthorn which has nothing but thorns and a ragged bark. They are sinners. But am I imploring God for their sake? I am imploring you. Robber, dearest—”
Mariet looks now at Haggart, now at the priest. Haggart is hesitating. The abbot keeps muttering: