The Princess.
Have you ever met her, then?
Struebel.
I don't know of any one who has ever met her. And there's not a soul
that can tell what she looks like. It is said that there were pictures
of her in the shop-windows when she first came, but they were removed
immediately. In the morning a great many people are always lurking
around the Springs trying to catch a glimpse of her. I myself have
gotten up at six o'clock a couple of times--on the same errand--and if
you knew me better, you'd realise what that meant. But not a sign of
her! Either she has the stuff brought to her house, or she has the
power of making herself invisible. (The Princess _turns aside to
conceal a smile._) After that, I used to hang around her garden--every
day, for hours at a time. Until one day the policeman, whom the
managers of the Springs have stationed at the gates, came up to me and
asked me what on earth I was doing there. Well, that was the end of
those methods of approach! Suddenly, however, a happy thought struck
me. Now I can see her, and have her near to me as often as I wish.
The Princess.
Why, that's very interesting. How?
Struebel.
Yes, that's just the point. H'm, should I risk it? Should I take you
into my confidence?
The Princess.
You promised me some time ago that you would show her to me.
Struebel.
Wait a second. (_Looks through the telescope._) There she is. Please
look for yourself.
The Princess.
But I am-- (_She, too, looks through the telescope._) Actually, there
is the garden as plain as if one were in it.
Struebel.
And at the corner window on the left--with the embroidery-frame--that's
she.
The Princess.
Are you absolutely certain that that is the princess?
Struebel.
Why, who else could it be?
The Princess.
Oh, 'round about a princess like that--there are such a lot of people.
For instance, there is her waiting-woman, there's the seamstress and
her assistants, there's----
Struebel.
But my dear young lady, if you only understood anything about these
matters, you would have been certain at the very first glance that it
was she--and no one else. Observe the nobility in every motion--the
queenly grace with which she bends over the embroidery-frame----
The Princess.
How do you know that it's an embroidery-frame?
Struebel.
Why, what should a princess be bending over if not an embroidery-frame?
Do you expect her to be darning stockings?
The Princess.
It wouldn't hurt her at all!
Struebel.
Now, that's just one of those petty, bourgeois notions which we ought
to suppress. It's not enough that we have to stick in this misery, but
we'd like to drag her down, too--that being far above all earthly
care----
The Princess.
Oh, dear me!
Struebel.
What are you sighing about so terribly?