Oh, I beseech you--you don't understand the conditions; it would be a fatal handicap for me. I might as well leave the service at once. MAGDA. And if you did? VON KELLER. Oh, you can't be in earnest. For a hardworking and ambitious man who sees a brilliant future before him to give up honor and position, and as his wife's husband to play the vagabond,--to live merely as the husband of his wife? Shall I turn over your music, or take the tickets at the box-office? No, my dearest friend, you underestimate me, and the position I fill in society. But don't be uneasy. You will have nothing to repent of. I have every respect for your past triumphs, but [_pompously_] the highest reward to which your feminine ambition can aspire will be achieved in the drawing-room. MAGDA. [_Aside_.] Good Heaven, this thing I'm doing is mere madness! VON KELLER. What do you say? [Magda _shakes her head_.] And then the wife, the ideal wife, of modern times is the consort, the true, self-sacrificing helper of her husband. For instance, you, by your queenly personality and by the magic of your voice, will overcome my enemies, and knit even my friends more closely to me. And we will be largely hospitable. Our house shall be the centre of the most distinguished society, who still keep to the severely gracious manners of our forefathers. Gracious and severe may seem contradictory terms, but they are not. MAGDA. You forget that the child on whose account this union is to be consummated will keep the severely inclined away from us. VON KELLER. Yes, I know, dear Magda, it will be painful for you; but this child must of course remain the deepest secret between us. No one must suspect-- MAGDA. [_Astounded and incredulous_.] What--what do you say? VON KELLER. Why, it would ruin us. No, no, it is absurd to think of it. But we can make a little journey every year to wherever it is being educated. One can register under a false name; that is not unusual in foreign parts, and is hardly criminal. And when we are fifty years old, and other regular conditions have been fulfilled, [_laughing_], that can be arranged, can't it? Then we can, under some pretext, adopt it, can't we? MAGDA. [_Breaks into a piercing laugh; then, with clasped hands and staring eyes_.] My sweet! My little one! _Mio bambino! Mio povero_--_bam_--you--you--I am to--ha, ha, ha! [_Tries to open the folding door_.] Go! go! _Enter_ Schwartze. SCHWARTZE. What-- MAGDA. Good you're here! Free me from this man, take this man away from me. SCHWARTZE. What? MAGDA.