Why, what do you take me to be, anyhow? D'you suppose I don't
know that these so-called essays are merely shameless libels?... You want
to write a denunciation like that, and about our coal district, of all
places! Are you so blind that you can't see whom such a rag would harm
most keenly? Only me, of course! I tell you, the trade that you
demagogues drive ought to be more firmly stamped out than has been done
up to now! What is it you do? You make the miners discontented,
presumptuous; you stir them up, embitter them, make them rebellious,
disobedient, wretched! Then you delude them with promises of mountains of
gold, and, in the meantime, grab out of their pockets the few pennies
that keep them from starving!
LOTH
Do you consider yourself unmasked now?
HOFFMANN
[_Brutally._] Oh, pshaw! You ridiculous, pompous wind-bag! What do you
suppose I care about being unmasked by you?--Go to work! Leave off this
silly drivelling!--Do something! Get ahead! I don't need to sponge on any
one for two-hundred marks!
[_He rushes out through the middle door._
_For several moments LOTH looks calmly after him. Then, no less
calmly, he draws a card case out of his inner pocket, takes a slip of
paper therefrom--HOFFMANN'S cheque--and tears it through several
times.
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