Doctor.—­What a blockhead you are.

Anton.—­Well, frankly speaking, I do not care one whit for your drawing-room affairs.

Doctor.—­Drahomir and she do not know that they love each other.  But something attracts them to each other.  What is that force?  They do not ask.  They are like children.

Anton.—­And how will you profit from all this?

Doctor.—­Listen, you democrat.  When two knights are in love with one noble damsel, that love usually ends dramatically—­and the third party usually gets the noble damsel.

Anton.—­And the knights?

Doctor.—­Let them perish.

Anton.—­What then do you suppose will happen?

Doctor.—­I do not know.  Pretwic is a passionate man.  He does not foresee anything—­I see only the logic of things which is favorable to me, and I shall not be stupid enough to place any obstacles to my happiness.

Anton.—­I am sure you will help it along in case of need.

Doctor.—­Well, I am a physician.  It is my duty to assist nature.

Anton.—­The programme is ready.  I know you.  I only wish to ask you how you know what you say is so.  Maybe it is only a story.

Doctor.—­I can have verification of it through the princess’s ex-governess.

Anton.—­You must know as soon as possible.

Doctor.—­Mrs. Czeska will be here in a moment.  I asked her to come here.

Anton.—­Then I am going.  Do you know what?  Do not help nature too much, because it would be—­

SCENE IV.

The same.  Mrs. Czeska.

Czeska (entering).—­You wished to speak to me?

Doctor.—­Yes, madam.

Anton (bows to Mrs. Czeska, then speaks to Jozwowicz).—­I am going to get the money and I will be back in a moment.

Doctor.—­Very well. (Anton goes out.)

Czeska.—­Who is that gentleman?

Doctor.—­A pilot.

Czeska.—­What do you mean?

Doctor.—­He guides the boat in which I am sailing.  As for the rest, he is a horribly honest man.

Czeska.—­I do not understand very well.  What did you wish to speak to me about?

Doctor.—­About the princess.  You are both like mother and daughter, and you should have her entire confidence.  What is the matter with her?  She conceals something—­some sorrow.  As a doctor I must know everything, because in order to cure physical disease one must know the moral cause. (Aside) The spirit of Aesculapius forgive me this phrase.

Czeska.—­My good sir, what are you asking about?

Doctor.—­I have told you that the princess conceals some sorrow.

Czeska.—­I do not know.

Doctor.—­We both love her; let us then speak frankly.

Czeska.—­I am willing.

Doctor.—­Then, does she love her fiance?

Czeska.—­How can you ask me such a question?  If she did not, she would not be betrothed to him.  It is such a simple thing that even I do not talk to her about it any more.