SCHNEIDEKIND. For her own sake they had better send her here. She will
be safe in your hands.
STRAMMFEST [yielding the receiver]. You are right. Be civil to him. I
should choke [he sits down].
SCHNEIDEKIND [into the telephone]. Hullo. Never mind all that: it's only
a fellow here who has been fooling with the telephone. I had to leave
the room for a moment. Wash out: and send the girl along. We'll jolly
soon teach her to behave herself here... Oh, you've sent her already.
Then why the devil didn't you say so, you--[he hangs up the telephone
angrily]. Just fancy: they started her off this morning: and all this is
because the fellow likes to get on the telephone and hear himself talk
now that he is a colonel. [The telephone rings again. He snatches the
receiver furiously.] What's the matter now?... [To the General.] It's our
own people downstairs. [Into the receiver.] Here! do you suppose I've
nothing else to do than to hang on to the telephone all day?... What's
that? Not men enough to hold her! What do you mean? [To the General.]
She is there, sir.
STRAMMFEST. Tell them to send her up. I shall have to receive her
without even rising, without kissing her hand, to keep up appearances
before the escort. It will break my heart.
SCHNEIDEKIND [into the receiver]. Send her up... Tcha! [He hangs up the
receiver.] He says she is halfway up already: they couldn't hold her.
The Grand Duchess bursts into the room, dragging with her two exhausted
soldiers hanging on desperately to her arms. She is enveloped from head
to foot by a fur-lined cloak, and wears a fur cap.
SCHNEIDEKIND [pointing to the bench]. At the word Go, place your
prisoner on the bench in a sitting posture; and take your seats right
and left of her. Go.
The two soldiers make a supreme effort to force her to sit down. She
flings them back so that they are forced to sit on the bench to save
themselves from falling backwards over it, and is herself dragged into
sitting between them. The second soldier, holding on tight to the Grand
Duchess with one hand, produces papers with the other, and waves them
towards Schneidekind, who takes them from him and passes them on to the
General. He opens them and reads them with a grave expression.
SCHNEIDEKIND. Be good enough to wait, prisoner, until the General has
read the papers on your case.
THE GRAND DUCHESS [to the soldiers]. Let go. [To Strammfest]. Tell them
to let go, or I'll upset the bench backwards and bash our three heads on
the floor.
FIRST SOLDIER. No, little mother. Have mercy on the poor.
STRAMMFEST [growling over the edge of the paper he is reading]. Hold
your tongue.
THE GRAND DUCHESS [blazing]. Me, or the soldier?
STRAMMFEST [horrified]. The soldier, madam.
THE GRAND DUCHESS. Tell him to let go.
STRAMMFEST. Release the lady.
The soldiers take their hands off her. One of them wipes his fevered
brow. The other sucks his wrist.
SCHNEIDKIND [fiercely]. 'ttention!
The two soldiers sit up stiffly.
THE GRAND DUCHESS. Oh, let the poor man suck his wrist. It may be
poisoned. I bit it.
STRAMMFEST [shocked]. You bit a common soldier!
GRAND DUCHESS. Well, I offered to cauterize it with the poker in the
office stove. But he was afraid. What more could I do?
SCHNEIDEKIND. Why did you bite him, prisoner?
THE GRAND DUCHESS. He would not let go.
STRAMMFEST. Did he let go when you bit him?
THE GRAND DUCHESS. No. [Patting the soldier on the back]. You should
give the man a cross for his devotion. I could not go on eating him; so
I brought him along with me.