Doctor.—You may sell your perspicacity at another market. It is my personal affair.
Anton.—Not at all, for it means that you put only half your soul into public affairs. To the deuce with such business! Look at me. They howl at me in the newspapers, they laugh at me—but I do not care. I will tell you more! I feel that I shall never rise, although I am not lacking in strength nor intelligence. I could try to get the first place in camp to command, but I do not do it. Why? Because I know myself very well. Because I know that I am lacking in order, authority, tact. I have been and I am a tool, used by such as you, and which to-morrow may be kicked aside when it is no more needed. But my self-love does not blind me. I do not care most for myself—I am working for my convictions—that is all. Any day I may be ousted from my position. There is often misery in my house, and although I love my wife and children—no matter. When it is a question of my convictions, I will work, act, agitate. I put my whole soul in it. And for you, the petticoat of a princess bars your way. I did not expect this from you. Tfu! spit on everything and come with us.
Doctor.—You are mistaken. I have no desire for martyrdom, but for victory. And the more personal ties there are between me and public affairs, the more I will serve them with my mind, heart, and deeds—with all that constitutes a man. Do you understand?
Anton.—Amen. His eyes shine like the eyes of a wolf—now I recognize you.
Doctor.—What more do you wish?
Anton.—Nothing more. I will only tell you that our motto should be:
Attack the principles, and not the people.
Doctor.—Your virginal virtue may rest assured. I shall not poison any one.
Anton.—I believe you, but I must tell you that I know you well. I appreciate your energy, your learning, your common sense, but I should not like to cross you in anything.
Doctor.—So much the better for me.
Anton.—But if it is a question of the nobility, notwithstanding our programme I make you a present of them. You shall not cut their heads off.