psy. (Laughs, and exit.)
Clar. Aye, you may laugh, you cursed thief. All my limbs tremble!--Some envious man, some fiend has sent him hither.--Jack would not betray his native town.
Clar. It is not possible.
Fred. Only think, dear father--
Clar. Curse the money!
Fred. Brother Jack is---
Clar. He has too much. Yes, yes, yes! I know, he has too much, and it is impossible that he acquired it all in a fair way; but not so neither. It may have been scraped together somewhat unfairly; but not so neither, not so neither.
Fred. What ails you, pray? What do you talk about Jack and his money?
Clar. I cannot bear it, cannot bear his money.
Fred. Only think; Ranger Gernau sends me word, that yesterday the news arrived, that my brother has been made a Privy Counsellor.
Clar. Privy Counsellor?--hem!--Curse that iron merchant,