"I cannot do without the wax moon."
"Then, there is no help for it, you must make love to and propose to the fair Minna."
"Friend," said the Russian-imperial-professor-of-astronomy-of-the-University-of-Dorpat, as he clasped Rollmann's hand. "You are experienced in the ways of the world. I have lived in an observatory, and associated only with fixed stars, revolving moons, and comets. Tell me how to do it, and I will obey as a lamb."
"You will have to sigh."
"O! I can do that."
"And ogle the lady."
"Ogle!—when going fifty-three!"
"Learn a few lines of poetry."
"Yes, Milton's Paradise Lost. Go on."
"Tell the young lady that your heart is consumed with love."