Gentlemen, it is unfair to call a man away from his work for the sake of making such poor jokes.
BOLZ.
Yes, yes, he evidently slanders you when he maintains that you love anything else but your new boots and to some small degree your own person. You yourself are a love-spurting nature, little Bellmaus. You glow like a fusee whenever you see a young lady. Spluttering and smoky you hover around her, and yet don't dare even to address her. But we must be lenient with him; his shyness is to blame. He blushes in woman's presence, and is still capable of lovely emotions, for he started out to be a lyric poet.
BELLMAUS.
I don't care to be continually reproached with my poems. Did I ever read them to you?
BOLZ.
No, thank Heaven, that audacity you never had. (Seriously.) But, now, gentlemen, to business. Today's number is ready. Oldendorf is not yet here, but meanwhile, let us hold a confidential session. Oldendorf must be chosen deputy from this town to the next Parliament; our party and the Union must put that through. How does our stock stand today?
KÄMPE.
Remarkably high. Our opponents agree that no other candidate would be so dangerous for them, and our friends everywhere are most hopeful. But you know how little that may signify. Here is the list of the voters. Our election committee sends word to you that our calculations were correct. Of the hundred voters from our town, forty surely ours. About an equal number are pledged to the other party; the remnant of some twenty votes are undecided. It is clear that the election will be determined by a very small majority.