LULU. (_Perfectly composed again, stepping before the picture with the lamp._) Didn't you know him, then?
GESCHWITZ. No. It must have been long before my time. I only occasionally heard chance remarks of yours, that he had cut his throat from persecution-mania.
ALVA. (_Comparing the picture with Lulu._) The child-like expression in the eyes is still absolutely the same in spite of all she has lived thru since. (_In joyous excitement._) The dewy freshness that covered her skin, the sweet-smelling breath from her lips, the rays of light that beam from her white forehead, and this challenging splendor of young flesh in throat and arms--
SCHIGOLCH. All that's gone with the rubbish wagon. She can say with self-assurance: That was me once! The man she falls into the hands of to-day 'll have no conception of what we were when we were young.
ALVA. (_Cheerfully._) God be thanked, we don't notice the continual decline when we see a person all the time. (_Lightly._) The woman blooms for us in the moment when she hurls the man to destruction for the rest of his life. That is her nature and her destiny.
SCHIGOLCH. Down in the street-lamp's shimmer she's still a match for a dozen walking spectres. The man who still wants to make connections at this hour looks out more for heart-qualities than mere physical good points. He decides for the pair of eyes from which the least thievery sparkles.
LULU. (_Now as pleased as Alva._) I shall see if you're right. Adieu.
ALVA. (_In sudden anger._) You shall not go down again, as I live!
GESCHWITZ. Lulu, Lulu, where you go I go too.
SCHIGOLCH. If you want to put your bones up for sale, kindly get a district of your own!
GESCHWITZ. Lulu, I shall not stir from your side! I have weapons upon me.
SCHIGOLCH. Confound it all, her ladyship plots to fish with our bait!
LULU. You're killing me. I can't stand it here any more. (_Exit._)
GESCHWITZ. You need fear nothing. I am with you. (_Follows her._)
ALVA. (_Whimpering, throws himself on his couch. Schigolch swears, loudly and grumbling._) I guess there's not much more good to expect on this side!
SCHIGOLCH. We ought to have held the creature back by the throat. She'll scare away everything that breathes with her aristocratic death's head.