Page:Poet Lore, volume 31, 1920.djvu/544

524 Mrs. Rettig.—You will be slumbering there and the young gentlemen will dance attendance on your young wife.

Plavec.—Well, das heisst —(stops himself.) Madam—(Hesitates.) Never mind about the students—but—Ančka this noon was mumbling something to me about the count's huntsman. You too mentioned him.

Mrs. Rettig.—That splendid, handsome young man.

Plavec.—They say that really they used to love each other, and even now—

Mrs. Rettig.—An evil weed sends forth roots. The first dose of jealousy.

Plavec.—Well, das heisst, I merely—

Mrs. Rettig.—But it is true: they were fond of each other, very much so, and still are. But those are dreams, rosy dreams. Yesterday the retainer arrived with the count from their trip around the world, and I hear that the count rewarded him finely for his faithful service. He has given him a huntsman's lodge. Mr. Valenta can now cut slices from his own loaf, and he might now lead a little wife into his home and be happy.

Plavec (Interrupting, disturbed)—Maybe he is here? I haven't seen him.

Mrs. Rettig.—He is here, as I have heard.

Plavec (Rising quickly).—Here we are talking, madam, and Miss Lenka—

Mrs. Rettig.—Pray just stay here. It is cool and quiet here.

Plavec.—But Lenka—

Mrs. Rettig.—Well, then I will go and get her; she ought to be taking a rest by this time.

Plavec.—Yes, yes, too much of anything is harmful. (Seats himself.)

Mrs. Rettig.—They are beginning again. They'd be after her again and wouldn't leave her alone for a minute. I'll bring her back with me, doctor. (Goes out on the left.)

Plavec.—Thank you, madam, thank you.

wipes his brow and leans against the tree trunk.