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 friendship.
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.
What are you happy about, dear?
Ellen.
I don"t know--does one ever?
Beata.
Has anything in particular happened?
Ellen.
No; nothing. That is--Norbert said-- Oh, yes to be sure; we met Uncle Richard.
Beata.
Ah--where?
Ellen.
In the Zoo. On horseback. He sent his love and said he would be in before dinner. Norbert is coming too. Mother, is it true that Uncle Richard is such a wonderful speaker? Norbert says he can do what he likes with people.
Beata.
Some people--but only those whose thoughts he can turn into feelings, or whose feelings he can turn into thoughts. Do you understand?
Ellen.
Oh, yes! You mean, one can give only to those who have something to give in return?
Beata.
Yes.
Ellen.
But he must have great power--I am sure of it! He"s always so quiet, and says so little--yet one feels there"s a great fire inside--and sometimes it blazes up.
Beata (_laughing_).
What do you know about it?
Ellen.
Oh, I know. It"s just the same with-- Mother, how can people _bear_ life sometimes? It"s so beautiful one simply can"t breathe!
Beata (_with emotion_).