MIN.

You disputant! You should not have called yourself unhappy at all then. You should have told the whole, or kept quiet. Reason and necessity commanded you to forget me? I am a great stickler for reason; I have a great respect for necessity. But let me hear how reasonable this reason, and how necessary this necessity may be.

MAJ. T.

Listen then, Madam. You call me Tellheim; the name is correct. But suppose I am not that Tellheim whom you knew at home; the prosperous man, full of just pretensions, with a thirst for glory; the master of all his faculties, both of body and mind; before whom the lists of honour and prosperity stood open; who, if he was not then worthy of your heart and your hand, dared to hope that he might daily become more nearly so. This Tellheim I am now, as little as I am my own father. They both have been. Now I am Tellheim the discharged, the suspected, the cripple, the beggar. To the former, Madam, you promised your hand; do you wish to keep your word?

MIN.

That sounds very tragic... Yet, Major Tellheim, until I find the former one again--I am quite foolish about the Tellheims--the latter will have to help me in my dilemma. Your hand, dear beggar!

(Taking his hand).

MAJ. T. (holding his hat before his face with the other hand, and turning away from her).

This is too much!... What am I?... Let me go, Madam. Your kindness tortures me! Let me go.

MIN.

What is the matter? Where would you go?

MAJ. T.

From you!

MIN.

From me (drawing his hand to her heart)?

Dreamer!

MAJ. T.

Despair will lay me dead at your feet.

MIN.

From me?

MAJ. T.

From you. Never, never to see you again. Or at least determined, fully determined, never to be guilty of a mean action; never to cause you to commit an imprudent one. Let me go, Minna!

(Tears himself away, and Exit.)

MIN. (calling after him).

Let you go, Minna? Minna, let you go? Tellheim! Tellheim!

ACT III.

SCENE I.

The Parlour. Just (with a letter in his hand)

JUST.

Must I come again into this cursed house! A note from my master to her ladyship that would be his sister. I hope nothing will come of this, or else there will be no end to letter carrying. I should like to be rid of it; but yet I don't wish to go into the room. The women ask so many questions, and I hate answering--Ah! the door opens. Just what I wanted, the waiting puss!

Scene II Franziska and Just

FRAN. (calling through the door by which she has just entered).

Fear not; I will watch. See!

(observing Just) I have met with something immediately. But nothing is to be done with that brute.

JUST.

Your servant.

FRAN.

I should not like such a servant.

JUST.

Well, well, pardon the expression! There is a note from my master to your mistress--her ladyship--his sister, wasn't it?--sister.

FRAN.

Give it me!

(s.n.a.t.c.hes it from his hand.)

JUST.

You will be so good, my master begs, as to deliver it. Afterwards you will be so good, my master begs, as not to think I ask for anything!

FRAN.

Well?

JUST.

My master understands how to manage the affair. He knows that the way to the young lady is through her maid, methinks. The maid will therefore be so good, my master begs, as to let him know whether he may not have the pleasure of speaking with the maid for a quarter of an hour.

FRAN.

With me?

JUST.

Pardon me, if I do not give you your right t.i.tle. Yes, with you.

Only for one quarter of an hour; but alone, quite alone, in private tete-a-tete. He has something very particular to say to you.

FRAN.

Very well! I have also much to say to him. He may come; I shall be at his service.

JUST.

But when can he come? When is it most convenient for you, young woman?

In the evening?

FRAN.

What do you mean? Your master can come when he pleases; and now be off.

JUST.

Most willingly!

(Going.)