Vintimille. Your duty and your liberty won't feed you. I refuse to argue. Hurry up, now; money is always good, no matter how one gets it. Don't stand there like that; you know you want it. I know you'll end by taking it. I suppose you want more, eh? How much do you want, free man?
The Man [who has several times been on the point of talcing the money, jumps upon Vintimille. Hulin pulls him away]. Let me go, Hulin! Let me go!
Hulin. Stop it!
The Man. I've got to kill him!
Vintimille. What's this!
The Man [held back by Hulin, says to Vintimille]. Get out! Why did you come here, anyway? I was happy, I didn't realize how poor I was. I was free, master of everything. You remind me that I'm hungry, that I haven't a thing, that I don't belong to myself, that a filthy scoundrel can be my master by means of a little money that makes a slave of me because I need it. You've spoiled all my happiness. Get out!
Vintimille. What a to-do for so little! Who gives a damn about your scruples? I'm not asking anything of you. Take it!
The Man. I'd rather starve.—You give it to me, Hulin. [Vintimille gives the money to Hulin, who drops his hand. The money falls to the ground, and The Man picks it up.]
Hulin. Where are you going?
The Man. Get drunk—and forget.
Vintimille. Forget what?
