Robert. Trast! don't hurt me. See, I owe everything to you. When I heard your name then--the name of Trast and Company that is known from Yokohama to Aden, I felt as though I were standing before the Kaiser himself!
Trast. Kaiser, by the grace of coffee!
Robert. Muhlingk's undertaking in Batavia was on the road to ruin that minute.
Trast. No wonder, when it had the worst good-for-nothing in the Archipelago for its head.
Robert. There was nothing ahead of me but failure and discharge. And then you took the poor home-sick clerk under your pinion, your name opened a hundred doors for me and I grew up into manhood under your care! And Herr Benno Muhlingk led his merry life as he pleased, and I ran the entire business.
Trast. And the end of the story is that the firm of Muhlingk, along with its clever representative, is a few thousands richer because of us. It's a shame! you ought to have profited by it yourself. Well, I'll open your employer's eyes to the kind of a man you've been! If he doesn't at least make you a partner, I shall declare such a corner in coffee, in my righteous wrath, that the noble German oak-leaf[6] shall be valued as never before. But, seriously, why do you insist on this caprice of remaining with the Muhlingks? I offer you a tremendous salary and a pair of trousers every Christmas. (Robert shakes his head) It isn't only gratitude that makes a man cling to such an insane idea! Of course if the inventory of the firm included a fair German maiden--(Aside) Aha! (To Robert) Speaking of maidens, just listen to what happened to me last night. After we had left each other I wandered aimlessly along the street. A friendly poster invited into a masked ball. A hundred Indian dancers were to present their exciting dance according to the advertisement--well, that is my specialty--I went in. Everything seemed arranged to lead a young monk to forget his oath. And then suddenly there came before me a young girl, tender and fresh as a half-ripe peach. She seemed to be without a partner. I presented myself. Not at all bashful, she begged for a little plaything that hung on my watch-chain, in a little baby voice. It was my patron saint Ganesa, god of success, who rides on a little rat. And I smelled a rat myself. What do you suppose I found beneath her childish innocence? Naif depravity!
Robert. (Nervously) Are such things possible?
Trast. Listen. My heart always beats according to the tempo required by the custom of the land whose hospitality I am enjoying. I always keep a harem in the Orient; in Italy I climb the garden wall by moonlight, in France I pay the dressmaker's bills, and--Lord!--in Germany--well, I know the return journey from virtue, too! All according to rule! In the Orient one loves with his senses, in Italy with his imagination, in France with his pocketbook, in Germany with his conscience! So I tried to change this sinning child to a repentant Magdalen. Before I could get started, however, the champagne had to be uncorked--then came a gentleman, half demon and half fool, and claimed the lady as his own. I respected the ancient law of precedence, and went to bed the poorer by one good act. But I would give a good deal to know how it happened that a sweet little thing like--(Robert covers his face with his hands) Good Lord!--what is it?--Shh!
(Enter Frau Heinecke.)
Frau Heinecke. Bobby!