Prince, Stella, Mrs. Czeska, Countess Miliszewska, Jan Miliszewski,
Podczaski.
Countess.—It is impossible to understand. The world grows wild nowadays.
Prince.—I say the same. Stella, do I not say so?
Stella.—Very often.
Countess (low to her son).—Sit near the princess and entertain her.
Go ahead!
Jan.—I am going, mamma.
Countess.—There is too much of that audacity. I have sent Mr. Podczaski to the electors, and they say: "We do not need representatives without heads." I am only surprised that the prince is not more indignant. I rush here and there, I pray and work, and they dare to oppose to my son Mr. Jozwowicz.
Prince.—But madam, what can I do?
Countess.—And who is Mr. Jozwowicz—a physician? What does a doctor amount to? Jan has influence, importance, social position, relatives—and what has the doctor? From whence did he come here? Who ever heard of him? Really, I cannot speak calmly, and I think it must be the end of the world. Is it not, Mr. Podczaski?
Podczaski (saluting).—Yes, countess, God's wrath. There were never such loud thunders.