SCHIGOLCH. (Scanning Lulu's portrait.) Is that you?

LULU. (Winking.) Pretty fine?

SCHIGOLCH. If all that's genuine.

LULU. Have something sweet?

SCHIGOLCH. What?

LULU. (Getting up.) Elixir de Spaa.

SCHIGOLCH. That doesn't help me—Does he drink?

LULU. (Taking a decanter and glasses from a cupboard near the fireplace.) Not yet. (Coming down stage.) The cordial has such various effects!

SCHIGOLCH. He comes to blows?

LULU. He goes to sleep. (She fills the two glasses.)

SCHIGOLCH. When he's drunk, you can see right into his insides.

LULU. I'd rather not. (Sits opposite Schigolch.) Tell me about it.

SCHIGOLCH. The streets keep on getting longer, and my legs shorter.

LULU. And your harmonica?

SCHIGOLCH. Has bad air, like me with my asthma. I just keep a-thinking it isn't worth the trouble to make