Jaglika: Give me daily one piece of dried bread, just to live on the coast.
Preljubnica: It isn't you who's killing me, but your bread that I disgraced.
Luka: 'tisn't wretchedness but wrath that's stripped them of their clothes.
Zorz: You're clueless. These aren't our folk. These people are foreigners, they're civilized, for Pete's sake. If we do not abide by the rules of this world, we may as well move back to Medjedje!