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 Sarah.) Upon my word, you'd do a rushing business.

Curse me, — do you hear? (Points to Sarah.) Curse her, too. We're your kind. But don't dare to breathe my daughter's name. Understand? (Coming closer to Shloyme.) Don't dare to mention her name, or I'll rip your bowels open. Do you hear? She doesn't know you, and you don't know her!

Then I will know her. She's the daughter of a fellow-tradesman, so we're quite closely related.

I'll rip your bowels open. . . You may slap my face; kick me about, if you will, but don't mention my daughter's name! (Yekel and Shloyme engage in a struggle.)

A curse has been visited upon me! There he goes, starting a fight with such low-lives! Somebody's liable to come in at any moment, woe is me. Yekel! — Reb Ali and the Scribe. . . Yekel, for God's sake! (Dragging him away from Shloyme.) What's come over you? (Heavy footsteps are heard outside.) Yekel, Yekel!