(Singing, as Rosa brings him a glass of beer.) "Beer--beer!"--Heavens and earth, how hot it is! (Drinks.)
Frau Lindemann.
If you find it so hot, why don't you stay quietly down there at the Springs?
Strübel.
Ah, my soul thirsts for the heights--my soul thirsts for the heights every afternoon. Just as soon as ever my sallow-faced pupil has thrown himself down on the couch to give his red corpuscles a chance to grow, "I gayly grasp my Alpine staff and mount to my beloved."
Frau Lindemann (scornfully).
Bah!
Strübel.
Oh, you're thinking that you are my beloved? No, dearest: my beloved stays down there. But to get nearer to her, I have to come up here--up to your telescope. With the aid of your telescope I can look right into her window--see?
Rosa (laughing).