BOeTTICH.

Oh, when you love art as I do it is a pleasant task!  Just now a very acute thought also occurred to me concerning the cat’s boots, and in them I admire the genius of the actor.  You see, at first be is a cat; for that reason he must lay aside his natural clothing in order to assume the appropriate disguise of a cat.  Then he has to appear fully as a hunter; that is what I conclude, for every one calls him that, nor does a soul marvel at him; an unskilful actor would have dressed himself exactly so too, but what would have happened to our illusion?  We might perhaps have forgotten that he was still originally a cat and how uncomfortable a new costume would be for the actor over the fur he already had.  By means of the boots, however, he merely skilfully suggests the hunter’s costume; and that such suggestions are extremely dramatic, the ancients prove to us very excellently, in often—­

FISCHER.

Hush!  The third act is beginning.

ACT III

Room in a peasant’s house

The PLAYWRIGHT. The MACHINIST.

MACHIN.

Then do you really think that will do any good?

PLAYWR.

I beg, I entreat you, do not refuse my request; my only hope depends on it.

LEUTNER.

Why, what’s this again?  How did these people ever get into
Gottlieb’s room?

SCHLOSS.

I won’t rack my brains about anything more.

MACHIN.

But, dear friend, you certainly do ask too much, to have all this done in such a hurry, entirely on the spur of the moment.

PLAYWR.

I believe you are against me, too; you also rejoice in my misfortune.

MACHIN.

Not in the least.

PLAYWRIGHT (falls down before him).

Then prove it to me by yielding to my request; if the disapproval of the audience breaks out so loudly again, then at a motion from me let all the machines play; as it is, the second act has already closed quite differently from the way it reads in my manuscript.

MACHIN.

What’s this now?  Why, who raised the curtain?

PLAYWR.

It never rains but it pours!  I am lost! (He rushes in
embarrassment behind the scenes.)

MACHIN.

There never has been such a confusion on any evening.

[Exit.  A pause.]

WIESENER.

I say, does that belong to the play?

NEIGHBOR.

Of course—­why that motivates the transformation to follow.

FISCHER.

This evening ought certainly to be described in the theatre almanac.

KING (behind the scenes).

No, I will not appear, on no condition; I
cannot bear to have any one laugh at me.

PLAYWR.

But you—­dearest friend—­it can’t be changed now.