TALKER (looking at the other anxiously out of the corners of his eyes). What do you think has happened to us?
SINGER (with a similar look). I—I wonder.
TALKER (nervously). I suppose the fact that we are going off this afternoon—the joy of returning to our old gay life is—is affecting us?
SINGER. I—I suppose so. (Without enthusiasm) Yes, that must be it.
TALKER. This cauliflower existence, this settled life which even the least enterprising cabbage would find monotonous, we have had more than enough of it, my friend.
SINGER. Yes. (He sighs deeply.) I sigh to think how we have wasted these eight days.
TALKER. Ah! (He sighs still more deeply.) However, Heaven be praised, we are for the road this afternoon.
SINGER (gloomily). Heaven be praised! It is a grand life.
TALKER (carelessly). Of course, if you came to me and said, "Johannes," you said, "I left my home in a fit of melancholy five months agone; the melancholy is cured, I will return home again"—why, I would say, "God bless you, Master Duke; go your way." Well, I can understand such a thing happening to a man of your age, not born to the wandering as I am.
SINGER. Bless you, Johannes, you are a true gentleman.