BOLZ.
Him we must have. What sort of a man is he?
KaMPE.
He is very blunt, they say, and no politician at all.
BELLMAUS.
But he has a pretty daughter.
KaMPE.
What"s the use of his pretty daughter? I"d rather he had an ugly wife--one could get at him more easily.
BELLMAUS.
Yes, but he has one--a lady with little curls and fiery red ribbons in her cap.
BOLZ.
Wife or no wife, the man must be ours. Hush, some one is coming; that is Oldendorf"s step. He needn"t know anything of our conference. Go to your room, gentlemen. To be continued this evening.
KaMPE (_at the door_).
It is still agreed, I suppose, that in the next number I resume the attack on the new correspondent of the _Coriola.n.u.s_, the one with the arrow.
BOLZ.
Yes, indeed. Pitch into him, decently but hard. Just now, on the eve of the election, a little row with our opponents will do us good; and the articles with the arrow give us a great opening.
[_Exeunt_ KaMPE _and_ BELLMAUS.]
_Enter_ OLDENDORF _through centre door._
OLDENDORF.
Good-day, Conrad.
BOLZ (_at the table on the right, looking over the list of voters_).
Blessed be thy coming! The mail is over there; there is nothing of importance.
OLDENDORF.
Do you need me here today?
BOLZ.
No, my darling. This evening"s issue is ready. For tomorrow Kampe is writing the leading article.
OLDENDORF.
About what?
BOLZ.
A little skirmish with the _Coriola.n.u.s_. Another one against the unknown correspondent with the arrow who attacked our party. But do not worry; I told Kampe to make the article dignified, very dignified.
OLDENDORF.
For Heaven"s sake, don"t! The article must not be written.
BOLZ.
I fail to comprehend you. What use are political opponents if you cannot attack them?
OLDENDORF.
Now see here! These articles were written by the Colonel; he told me so himself today.
BOLZ.
Thunder and lightning!
OLDENDORF (_gloomily_).
You may imagine that along with this admission went other intimations which place me just now in a very uncomfortable position as regards the Colonel and his family.
BOLZ (_seriously_).
And what does the Colonel want you to do?
OLDENDORF.
He will be reconciled to me if I resign the editorship of this paper and withdraw as candidate for election.
BOLZ.
The devil! He is moderate in his demands!
OLDENDORF.
I suffer under this discord; to you, as my friend, I can say so.
BOLZ (_going up to him and pressing his hand_).
Solemn moment of manly emotion!