So my fortune is yet to be determined today?

HINZE.

Yes, dear Gottlieb, even before the sun sets. See, I love you so much that I would run through fire for you--and you doubt my sincerity?

WIESENER.

Did you hear that? He is going to run through fire. Ah, fine, here we get the scene from the _Magic Flute_ too, with the fire and the water!

NEIGHBOR.

But cats do not go into the water.

WIESENER.

Why so much the greater is the cat's love for his master, you see; that's just what the author wants to make us understand.

HINZE.

Now what would you like to become in the world, anyhow?

GOTTLIEB.

Oh, I don't know, myself.

HINZE.

Perhaps you'd like to become a prince, or a king?

GOTTLIEB.

That, better than anything.

HINZE.

And do you also feel the strength within you to make a nation happy?

GOTTLIEB.

Why not? If only I am once happy myself.

HINZE.

Well, then content yourself. I swear to you, you shall mount the throne.

[_Exit._]

GOTTLIEB.

It would have to come about mysteriously--still, of course, so many unexpected things happen in the world.

[_Exit._]

BoTTICH.

Do notice the infinite refinement with which the cat always holds his cane.

FISCHER.

You've been a bore to us for the longest while; you are even more tiresome than the play.

SCHLOSS.

You even add to the confusion in our heads.

MuLLER.

You talk constantly and do not know what you want.

MANY VOICES.

Out! Out! He's a nuisance! (_A crowd;_ BoTTICHER _finds himself compelled to leave the theatre._)

FISCHER.

He with his talk about refinement!

SCHLOSS.

He always vexes me when he considers himself a connoisseur.

_An open field_

HINZE (_with knapsack and bag_).

I have become quite accustomed to hunting. Every day I catch partridges, rabbits and the like, and the dear little animals are getting more and more practice in being caught. (_He spreads out his bag._) Now the season of the nightingales is over, I do not hear a single one singing.

[_Enter the two lovers._]

HE.

Go, you bore me.

SHE.

I am disgusted with you.

HE.