SCHÖN. But you have always the satisfaction of preparing for us the greatest and rarest pleasure. LULU. (Going left.) Oh, just wait! SCHWARZ. (Before the bedroom door.) If madame will be so kind.... (Shuts the door after her and stands in front of it.) DR. GOLL. I christened her Nellie, you know, in our marriage-contract. SCHÖN. Did you?--Yes. DR. GOLL. What do you think of it? SCHÖN. Why not call her rather Mignon? DR. GOLL. That would have been good, too. I didn't think of that. SCHÖN. Do you consider the name so important? DR. GOLL. Hm.... You know, I have no children. SCHÖN. But you've only been married a couple of months. DR. GOLL. Thanks, I don't want any. SCHÖN. (Having taken out his cigarette-case.) Have a cigarette? DR. GOLL. (Helps himself.) I've plenty to do with this one. (To Schwarz.) Say, what's your little danseuse doing now? SCHÖN. (Turning round on Schwarz.) You and a danseuse? SCHWARZ. The lady was sitting for me at that time only as a favor. I made her acquaintance on a flying trip of the Cecilia Society. DR. GOLL. (To Schön.) Hm.... I think we're getting a change of weather. SCHÖN. The toilet isn't going so quickly, is it? DR. GOLL. It's going like lightning! Woman has got to be a virtuoso in her job. So must we all, each in his job, if life isn't to turn to beggary. (Calls.) Hop, Nellie! LULU. (Inside.) Just a second! DR. GOLL. (To Schön.) I can't get onto these blockheads. (Referring to Schwarz.) SCHÖN. I can't help envying them. These blockheads know nothing holier than an altar-cloth, and feel richer than you and me with 30,000-mark incomes. Besides, you can't be judge of a man who from childhood has lived from palette to mouth. Try to get at his finances: it's an arithmetic example! I haven't the moral courage, and one can easily burn one's fingers at it, too. LULU. (As Pierrot, steps out of the bed-room.) Here I am! SCHÖN. (Turns; after a pause.) Superb! LULU. (Nearer.) Well? SCHÖN. You put shame on the boldest fancy. LULU. How do you like me? SCHÖN. A picture before which art must despair. DR. GOLL. Don't you think so, too? SCHÖN. (To Lulu.) Have you any notion what you do? LULU. I'm perfectly possessed of myself! SCHÖN. Then you might be a little more discreet. LULU. But I'm only doing what's my duty. SCHÖN. You are powdered? LULU. What do you take me for! DR. GOLL. I've never seen such a white skin as she's got. I've told our Raphael here, too, to do just as little with the flesh tints as possible. For once, I can't get enthusiastic about the modern art-nonsense. SCHWARZ. (By the easels, preparing his paints.) At any rate, it's thanks to impressionism that present-day art can stand up beside the old masters without blushing. DR. GOLL. Oh, it can do quite well for a bit of butcher's work. SCHÖN. For Heaven's sake don't get excited! (Lulu falls on Goll's neck and kisses him.) DR. GOLL. They can see your undershirt. You must pull it lower.