Away with it … away with it … everything is superfluous. MISS Oh, Robert. POET And now enter into our Indian palace. MISS Tell me first—do you really love me? POET I adore you. (_Kisses her passionately_) I adore you, my sweetheart, my springtime … my… MISS Robert … Robert… * * * * * POET It was heaven… My name is… MISS Robert—oh, my Robert! POET I call myself Biebitz. MISS Why do you call yourself Biebitz? POET My name is not Biebitz—I just use it as a pseudonym … well, don’t you recognize the name? MISS No. POET You don’t know the name Biebitz? Ah—Perfectly divine! Really? You are just pretending you don’t know it, aren’t you? MISS No really, I never heard it. POET Don’t you ever go to the theater? MISS Oh, yes—I was at the opera only the other day with—you know, with one of my friends and her uncle, to hear Cavalleria Rusticana. POET Hm, you don’t go then to see plays. MISS I never get tickets for them. POET I’ll send you a ticket soon. MISS Oh, do! And don’t forget it. But for something funny. POET Oh … something funny … you don’t care to see anything sad? MISS Not very much. POET Not even if it is a play of mine. MISS A play of yours? Do you write for the theater? POET Let me light a candle now. I haven’t seen you since you have become my best beloved—Angel! (_He lights a candle_) MISS Don’t. I’m ashamed. Give me a cover at least. POET Later! (_He approaches her with the light, and looks at her a long while_) MISS (_Covering her face with her hands_) Go away, Robert! POET You are beautiful, you are Beauty itself. You are Nature herself. You are the simplicity which is holy. MISS Ouch! You are dropping wax on me. Look, why aren’t you more careful? POET (_Puts the candle away_) You are that for which I have long sought. You love me for my own sake. You would love me even if I were only a counter-jumper. That’s balm to one’s heart. I must confess I was suspicious until this moment. Tell me, honestly, you didn’t have any notion that I am Biebitz? MISS Oh, pshaw, I don’t even know what you are talking about. I never heard of any Biebitz. POET What is fame! No, forget what I have told you. Forget even the name. I am Robert and I want to remain Robert to you. I was only joking. (_Lightly_) I am not a writer at all. I’m a clerk, and in the evening I play the piano in a dancehall. MISS But now I’m all mixed up … and the way you look at one. What is the matter, yes, what do you mean? POET It is very strange—something that has never happened to me, sweetheart; I am on the verge of tears. You move me deeply. We ought to live together. Will you? We will be very much in love with each other. MISS Is it true about the dancehall? POET Yes, but don’t ask any more about it. If you love me, don’t ask me anything. Tell me, can’t you get away for a few weeks? MISS How do you mean get away? POET Well, I mean, leave home? MISS