Tressa: Begone swindler. You don't belong in this town!
Morlock: It was not by my hand that I am once again given revenue. I was brought here by miners, who wish to pay me royalties.
Tressa: Royalties? You cheat your workers out of their hard-earned money, and monopolize their profits!
Morlock: Perhaps the same could be said of all businesses.
Tressa: Your words are as bankrupt as your soul. Mankind ill needs an investor such as you.
Morlock: What is a man?! A miserable little working ant! But enough talk; Omar have at her!