It's beautiful. I leave it to any one.

SACHEL.

So do I. I leave it to Rosa; she's a Christian, she knows nothing about trade. Rosa!

ROSA.

[_Coming to him._] Yes.

SACHEL.

Am I not right? Is it not charity to offer him half a guilder for that lace?

DANIEL.

[_Mischievously._] A beautiful piece of lace!

SAMSON.

A splendid piece of lace; he could not have come honestly by that!

SACHEL.

I have not summoned every idler in the street. Rosa!

[_Exeunt DANIEL and SAMSON._

MORDECAI.

[_Whispering to ROSA._] My son is dead, how can I bury him without money? It was his mother's--the only fragment I have left of hers----

SACHEL.

I hear you; is he giving you something?

ROSA.

[_In compa.s.sion._] It is not so badly worn; surely it is worth four guilders!

SACHEL.

You lie! I say you lie! Do you think you can make a fool of me--you thieves! Ah, I know you are standing there, twisting your cheeks at me! But you shall not rob me; no, no! Give me that! [_He takes the lace and examines it with his fingers._] I knew it! It has been patched--by some bag-maker. You minx--you hussy! Do I feed you that you may rob me? Everybody lies to me--but they do not deceive me! I will not give half a guilder--only thirty cents.

MORDECAI.

Sachel! I must have _two_ guilders! He died in my arms. You have a son--for pity's sake--for pity's sake!

SACHEL.

Have you had pity on my eyes? You say this lace is whole; it is a lie.

You say your son is dead; that is a lie too, for all I know. I'll give no more--no more.

MORDECAI.

Oh! Oh! Give me that! You black-hearted miser. [_He s.n.a.t.c.hes it._] You are rich--you have known me for years--and you would let my son be buried in the pauper's field! A curse on you! May your son _live_ to hate you--desert you--disown you--curse you, as I do!

[_Exit MORDECAI._

SACHEL.

Rosa! Run and offer him a guilder and a half! Run!

ROSA.

Mordecai! He will not stop! He's gone!

SACHEL.

With a curse! Could I be more cursed than I am? Come here. You have driven the trade from my door.

ROSA.

I?

SACHEL.

Yes, you--you misbegotten wretch! Had you not whined and pleaded for him, he would have taken a guilder. If you, too, had said, "Tatters!

nothing but tatters." Why did you not?

ROSA.

Because I will not lie for you!

SACHEL.

I employ you to do my bidding! What are you doing now--idling, wasting precious time? [_ROSA begins to sweep._] In the middle of last night--were you up?

ROSA.

No!

SACHEL.

[_Ironically._] You will not lie for me! Why are you so disturbed about it?

ROSA.

I am not disturbed.