SALOME. Need it—nonsense! There is no end of your needs. [
Pulling at Nato's hat.
] How have you put your hat on again? And the flowers are all pulled apart.
[Arranges it.
NATO. Bah! what difference does that make?
SALOME. You're crazy! [
Removes her veil.
] How have you put on your veil? I must ever and eternally fix something on you!
NATO. You will make me too beautiful, mamma.
SALOME. Whether I make you beautiful or not, it will make no difference. You will be only the wife of a merchant.