FRITZ. I should think it is, godfather! Am I not the man that wants
to marry Bertha?
PIEPENBRINK. That's a fine argument! Any one can want that. But it's I
who am to give her to you, which is more to the point, young man; for
it is going to be hard enough for me to let the little wag-tail leave
my nest. So you wait. You shall have her, but wait!
KLEINMICHEL. He will wait, neighbor.
PIEPENBRINK. Well, I should strongly advise him to do so. Hey! Waiter,
waiter!
[Illustration: _Permission F. Bruckman, A.-G. Munich_ ON THE TERRACE
ADOLF VON MENZEL]
MRS. PIEPENBRINK. What poor service one gets in such places!
PIEPENBRINK. Waiter!
[_Waiter comes._]
My name is Piepenbrink. I brought along six bottles of my own wine.
The restaurant-keeper has them. I should like them here.
[_While the waiter is bringing the bottles and glasses_ BOLZ _and_
KAeMPE _appear. Waiter from time to time in the background._]
BOLZ (_aside to_ KAeMPE). Which one is it?
KAeMPE. The one with his back to us, the broad-shouldered one.
BOLZ. And what kind of a business does he carry on?
KAeMPE. Chiefly red wines.
BOLZ. Good! (_Aloud._) Waiter, a table and two chairs here! A bottle
of red wine!
[_Waiter brings what has been ordered to the front, on the left._]
MRS. PIEPENBRINK. What are those people doing here?
PIEPENBRINK. That is the trouble with such promiscuous assemblies,
that one never can be alone.
KLEINMICHEL. They seem respectable gentlemen; I think I have seen one
of them before.
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