ALBERT—You ought to wear thicker gloves.
ALEXANDRA—Yes, I must try thicker ones.
ALBERT—C’est ça! That’s life. One must be on one’s guard.
BEATRICE—That’s perfectly true! How good of you to be interested. Fancy!
Such practical advice too!
ALBERT—[_Modestly._] Oh, not at all ... only ... you see ... one picks up
a bit of experience here and there ... what? [_A pause, and then he rises
suddenly. They all stand up too._] Well now, let’s have a look at the
boys. Is this your classroom?
ARSEN—Yes.
ALBERT—You are sixteen, aren’t you?
ARSEN—Yes.
ALBERT—And you are seventeen?
GEORG—Yes.
ALBERT—Time flies. They are popping up fast, what?
BEATRICE—Indeed, yes, Albert.
ALBERT—You doubtless suppose that I shall examine you, like a school
inspector.
GEORG—No, we don’t.
ALBERT—Have no fear.... I am a proper uncle. I shall only question your
excellent young teacher.
BEATRICE—[_To SYMPHOROSA._] He is falling in love with him too.
HYACINTH—I commend him warmly to your notice. He is a man of culture and
an athlete; an astronomer and a swordsman.
ALBERT—[_Notices that they all are standing._] Why don’t you keep your
seats? [_HYACINTH, ALEXANDRA, BEATRICE and SYMPHOROSA sit; the others do
not_.] Good. I like that. It’s the modern spirit. What are you working on
now?
AGI—History, your highness.
ALBERT—Ah! That’s always interesting. What period?
AGI—The beginning of the Nineteenth Century.
ALBERT—Napoleon.