Prince.—­Is it true that you are trying to become a member of parliament.

Doctor.—­At your service, Your Highness?

Prince.—­Mrs. Czeska.  Have you heard—­the world is upside down,
Jozwowicz!

Doctor.—­What is it, Your Highness?

Prince.—­And perhaps you will also become a minister.

Doctor.—­It may be.

Prince.—­Did you hear?  And do you think that I will call you “Your
Excellency”?

Doctor.—­It would be proper.

Prince.—­Jozwowicz, do you wish to give me a stroke of apoplexy?

Doctor.—­Be calm, Your Highness.  My Excellency will always take care of your Grace’s bile.

Prince.—­It is true.  The irritation hurts me.  What, Jozwowicz—­does it hurt me?

Doctor.—­Yes, it excites the bile, but it gives you an appetite. (He approaches with George.)

Stella.—­What were you talking about?

Doctor.—­I have been listening to George.  Horrible!  Dreadful!  George made a mistake by coming into the world two hundred years too late.  Bayards are not appreciated nowadays.

Czeska.—­Providence is above all.

Drahomir.—­I believe it also.

Doctor.—­Were I a mathematician, without contradicting you I would say that, as in many cases we do not know what X equals, we must take care of ourselves.

Prince.—­What are you saying?

Stella.—­Doctor, pray do not talk so sceptically, or there will be a war—­not with papa, but with me.

Doctor.—­My scepticism is ended where your words begin, therefore I surrender.

Stella.—­How gallant—­the member of parliament.

SCENE VI.

The same Servant.

Servant.—­Tea is served.

George.—­I must bid you good-bye.

Stella.—­Why, why are you going so early to-night?

Doctor (aside).—­My old schoolmate is at home here.

George.—­You must excuse me.  I am very happy with you, but to-night I must be going home.  I will leave Drahomir—­he will replace me.

Stella.—­To be angry with you would be to make you conceited.  But you must tell me why you are going.

George.—­The people who have lost their homes by fire are in my house. 
I must give some orders and provide for their necessities.

Czeska (aside).—­He is sacrificing pleasure to duty. (Aloud.) Stella!

Stella.—­What is it?

Czeska.—­To-morrow we must make some collections for them, and provide them with clothing.

Doctor.—­I will go with you, ladies.  It will be the first case in which misery did not search for the doctor, but the doctor searched for misery.

Czeska.—­Very clever.

Prince (rapping with the stick).—­Pretwic!

George.—­Your Highness, what do you order?

Prince.—­You say that this rabble is very poor?

George.—­Very poor, indeed.