A group of well-dressed people sit in front of a large, ornate tapestry.
“O mischief!” cries a voice from behind the curtain.
A young man in business wear, a dark suit, with scraggly beard, and carrying a thick stack of bank-notes, tries to shuffle and scramble up the aisle.
He raises his hands skyward, “Aye! from the wealth that men give to one another, a man must look upon this wealth as the devil has told him to look upon it!”
“What is that? What is that supposed to mean?”
The young man does not understand that what he earns is the capital, and that capital is a thing, and a thing is capital, and a thing is wealth.
“Ah! pity!” exclaims he, almost in a whisper, “pity!”