Really, Prince--pardon me--but since, by birth and political affiliations, you are a supporter of existing institutions, would it not be well to speak of them less flippantly?
Prince.
Why, my dear Baron?--Countess, shall I show you the attitude of the modern state toward its citizens? Here we are: the state with its hand in its pocket, the citizen with his fist clenched. And the only way to unclench the citizen's fist is for the state to pull something out of its pocket. There's the situation in a nutshell. It's a matter of taste whether one respects such an institution or not.
Brachtmann.
You know. Baron, he is the spoiled child of the party.
Prince.
Its prodigal son, you mean. I squandered all my original ideas long ago, and am living on the husks of the feudal tradition. But we are boring Madame von Kellinghausen. (The three men rise.)
Beata.
Good-bye, Prince--Herr von Brachtmann. (To Baron Ludwig.) Whenever your solitude weighs on you, come in and let me give you a cup of tea.
Baron Ludwig.