Look, they are bowing to us; they are whispering about us; they are pointing their fingers at us. There is a venerable old gentleman saying with tears in his eyes: “Happy the land that has such children!” See how pale this youth here has turned. Fame looked at him and gave him a smile. That’s after I built the People’s House, which is the pride of the whole country.
You are my famous husband. The oak wreath suits you so well. A laurel wreath would become you still better.
Look, look, there come the representatives of the city where I was born. They bow to me and say: “Our city is proud of the honor—”
What is it?
I found a bottle of milk.
And bread, soft, sweet-smelling bread. And a cigar.
Impossible! You are mistaken. It’s the dampness from that damned wall, that’s what it is. It isn’t milk.
But it is.
A cigar? Cigars don’t grow on windows. They are sold for fortunes in tobacco stores. It’s a black stick, a piece of a branch, I’m sure.
Look and see. I suppose our neighbors brought it.
Our neighbors? I tell you they’re people—they’re not human—they’re divine. But even if the devil himself brought it—quick, give it here, my sweet little wife.
[Man’s Wife seats herself on his knees, and so they eat. She breaks off pieces of bread and puts them in his mouth. He feeds her the milk from the bottle.
Seems to be cream.
No, it’s milk. Chew better. You’ll choke.
Give me the crust. It’s so brown.
I told you, you’d choke.
No, it went down. I swallowed it.