Falk.
Prove, in a word, your title to be glad?
Strawman.
Yes, in my path you've cast the stone of doubt,
And nobody but you can cast it out.
Between my kin and me you've set a bar,—
Remove the bar, the strangling noose undo—
Falk.
You possibly believe I keep the glue
Of lies for Happiness's broken jar?
Strawman.
I do believe, the faith your reasons tore
To shreds, your reasons may again restore;
The limb that you have shatter'd, you can set;
Reverse your judgment,—the whole truth un-*fold,
Restate the case—I'll fly my banner yet—
Falk [haughtily]. I stamp no copper Happiness as gold. Strawman [looking fixedly at him]. Remember then that, lately, one whose scent For truth is of the keenest told us this:
[With uplifted finger.
"There runs through all our life a Nemesis,
Which may delay, but never will relent."
[He goes towards the house.
