He comes back to the MOTHER with a
beaming face.)
TALKER. Madame, I will tell you a story. (Holding up his hand to
stop any expostulation) No, quite a short one. Once on a time there
was a certain noble gentleman, a baron of estates and family.
Conceiving himself to be in love, he dared to put it to the touch
to win or lose it all. I regret to say that he lost it all. In a
fit of melancholy he abjured society, cursed all women and took to
the road. A pleasant melancholy gentleman. I made him a duke.
MOTHER (eagerly, indicating the door out of which the duke has just
gone). You mean he really is--
TALKER. We will name no names, madame. I doubt not I have no right
to speak of him to another. It is just a story. (Putting his pipe
to his lips) Cuck-oo!
MOTHER. Poor child, she is not happy here. We live so quietly; we
have no neighbours. I have wondered what to do--it seemed that I
could do so little. If only I could be sure--(Suddenly) Master
Johannes, do you like the look of this house with its little stream
opposite, and the green bank running down, on which one may lie
on one's back and look up at the sky?
TALKER. Did we not single it out above all others by having our
bread and cheese outside it?
MOTHER. Will you all stay with me for a little? I think I can find
room for you.
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