Page:Poet Lore, volume 31, 1920.djvu/505

Rh Rejsek.—And that some learned gentlemen dislike! Rocky or not, he is a good man. And I should like to inquire how many varieties of advocates there are, and to what variety you belong. Good day. (Goes out on the left.)

Gülich.—Just listen to him pipe to his shoemaker's last. [sic] And he is of the field variety, the milder sort—then what must the rocky ones be like!

Roubal.—Chadima—(chuckles). What a spat!

Gülich.—Let him alone! You heard him: readers of books, literary fellows! How he talks! Sutor ne ultra crepidam. But that's the way it goes. Even in that, Mrs. Rettig has her fingers. People don't take things into consideration. These look like mere trifles: Bohemian shop signs, Bohemian declamations, a Bohemian theater, Bohemian books, and so forth—but she is ensnaring young girls, has students in her power, the whole young generation. She knows well what she wants, to turn everything topsy-turvy.

Roubal.—A woman! To upset everything, a woman!

Ančka (Comes in from the left. She is a woman of fifty, wearing a white cap, a blue apron under which may be seen a purse, and slippers).—Good morning, gentlemen. Have you seen the doctor, may I ask?

Gülich.—Is he wanted by some patient?

Ančka.—Some one is waiting for him at his house.

Gülich.—And you gave him no advice? They say that you too make out prescriptions.

Ancka.—Don't laugh, please. After so many years a person is bound to learn a few things if she isn't stupid. I do know aconite, belladonna, and so forth, and also for what each is given. But for you I should have no medicine; you are past helping.

Gülich.—I?

Ančka.—You will never get married. ( chuckles.}}

Gülich.—That is a hard proposition, just as with you.

Ančka (Quickly).—O no, with your pardon. Just last Suday truly, Bouček's journeyman asked me if I would be his wife.