THE PORTRESS. The young lady will be coming in a moment.
THE OFFICER. Good! The carriage is waiting, the table is set, the wine is on ice—Oh, permit me to embrace you, ladies! [He embraces THE PORTRESS and THE DAUGHTER. Sings] Victoria!
A WOMAN'S VOICE FROM ABOVE. [Sings] I am here!
THE DAUGHTER. Do you know me?
THE OFFICER. No, I know one woman only—Victoria. Seven years I have come here to wait for her—at noon, when the sun touched the chimneys, and at night, when it was growing dark. Look at the asphalt here, and you will see the path worn by the steps of a faithful lover. Hooray! She is mine. [Sings] Victoria! [There is no reply] Well, she is dressing, I suppose. [To THE BILLPOSTER] There is the dipnet, I see. Everybody belonging to the opera is crazy about dipnets—or rather about fishes—because the fishes are dumb and cannot sing!—What is the price of a thing like that?
THE BILLPOSTER. It is rather expensive.
THE OFFICER. [Sings] Victoria! [Shakes the linden tree] Look, it is turning green once more. For the eighth time. [Sings] Victoria!—Now she is fixing her hair. [To THE DAUGHTER] Look here, madam, could I not go up and get my bride?
THE PORTRESS. Nobody is allowed on the stage.
THE OFFICER. Seven years I have been coming here. Seven times three hundred and sixty-five makes two thousand five hundred and fifty-five. [Stops and pokes at the door with the four-leaved clover hole] And I have been looking two thousand five hundred and fifty-five times at that door without discovering where it leads. And that clover leaf which is to let in light—for whom is the light meant? Is there anybody within? Does anybody live there?
THE PORTRESS. I don't know. I have never seen it opened.