He is very blunt, they say, and no politician at all.
BELLMAUS.
But he has a pretty daughter.
KAeMPE.
What's the use of his pretty daughter? I'd rather he had an ugly
wife--one could get at him more easily.
BELLMAUS.
Yes, but he has one--a lady with little curls and fiery red ribbons
in her cap.
BOLZ.
Wife or no wife, the man must be ours. Hush, some one is coming; that
is Oldendorf's step. He needn't know anything of our conference. Go to
your room, gentlemen. To be continued this evening.
KAeMPE (_at the door_).
It is still agreed, I suppose, that in the next number I resume the
attack on the new correspondent of the _Coriolanus_, the one with the
arrow.
BOLZ.
Yes, indeed. Pitch into him, decently but hard. Just now, on the eve
of the election, a little row with our opponents will do us good; and
the articles with the arrow give us a great opening.
[_Exeunt_ KAeMPE _and_ BELLMAUS.]
_Enter_ OLDENDORF _through centre door._
OLDENDORF.
Good-day, Conrad.
BOLZ (_at the table on the right, looking over the list of voters_).
Blessed be thy coming! The mail is over there; there is nothing of
importance.
OLDENDORF.
Do you need me here today?
BOLZ.
No, my darling. This evening's issue is ready. For tomorrow Kaempe is
writing the leading article.
OLDENDORF.
About what?
BOLZ.
A little skirmish with the _Coriolanus_. Another one against the
unknown correspondent with the arrow who attacked our party.
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