Part 5 (1/2)

Prince.

My dear Countess, the revolutionary spirit has entered into our traditions, and the modern idea of making a revolution is to gird at existing inst.i.tutions. Why deprive us of such an innocent amus.e.m.e.nt?

Baron Ludwig.

Really, Prince--pardon me--but since, by birth and political affiliations, you are a supporter of existing inst.i.tutions, would it not be well to speak of them less flippantly?

Prince.

Why, my dear Baron?--Countess, shall I show you the att.i.tude of the modern state toward its citizens? Here we are: the state with its hand in its pocket, the citizen with his fist clenched. And the only way to unclench the citizen's fist is for the state to pull something out of its pocket. There's the situation in a nutsh.e.l.l. It's a matter of taste whether one respects such an inst.i.tution or not.

Brachtmann.

You know. Baron, he is the spoiled child of the party.

Prince.

Its prodigal son, you mean. I squandered all my original ideas long ago, and am living on the husks of the feudal tradition. But we are boring Madame von Kellinghausen. (_The three men rise_.)

Beata.

Good-bye, Prince--Herr von Brachtmann. (_To_ Baron Ludwig.) Whenever your solitude weighs on you, come in and let me give you a cup of tea.

Baron Ludwig.

You are very good. But I am afraid it is too late to begin.

Beata.

It is never too late to renew an old friends.h.i.+p.

Baron Ludwig.

Thank you. (_Goes out with the two other men_.)

Ellen _enters_.

Ellen.

(_Throwing her arms about her mother's neck_.) Mother! You dear little mamma!

Beata.

Well, madcap--what is it now?

Ellen.

Oh, nothing, nothing. I'm so happy, that's all.

Beata.