VON KELLER. I've already had the pleasure. MARIE. I can't offer you a hand for welcome, Dr. Von Keller, but you may have a cup of coffee instead. VON KELLER. [_Helping himself and looking at the others_.] I am very fortunate in being treated like an old acquaintance of the family. SCHWARTZE. As far as we are concerned, you shall become not only an acquaintance but a friend. And that is no conventional politeness, Councillor; for I know you, and in these times, when all the ties of morality and authority seem strained to bursting, it is doubly necessary that those who stand for the good old patriarchal order should hold together. VON KELLER. Very true, very true indeed. One doesn't hear such sentiments as that in the world in general, where modern ideas pass current for small change. SCHWARTZE. Modern ideas! Oh, pshaw! I know them. But come into the quiet homes where are bred brave soldiers and virtuous wives. There you'll hear no talk about heredity, no arguments about individuality, no scandalous gossip. There modern ideas have no foothold, for it is there that the life and strength of the Fatherland abide. Look at this home! There is no luxury,--hardly even what you call good taste,--faded rugs, birchen chairs, old pictures; and yet when you see the beams of the western sun pour through the white curtains and lie with such a loving touch on the old room, does not something say to you, "Here dwells true happiness"? [Von Keller _nods with conviction_.] SCHWARTZE. [_Broodingly_.] And here it might have dwelt! MARIE. [_Hurrying to him_.] Papa! SCHWARTZE. Yes, yes, I know. Well, in this house rules old-fashioned paternal authority. And it shall rule as long as I live. And am I therefore a tyrant? Tell me. You ought to know. MARIE. You're the best, the dearest-- MRS. SCHWARTZE. He is so excitable, you see, Councillor. SCHWARTZE. Have you not been well brought up? And shall we not hold together, we three? But the age goes on planting rebellion in children's hearts, putting mistrust between man and wife [_rises_], and it will never be satisfied till the last roof-tree smokes in ruins, and men wander about the streets, fearful and alone, like homeless curs. [_Sinks back exhausted_.] MRS. SCHWARTZE. You ought not to get so wrought up, papa. You know it is bad for you. [Max _makes a sign to_ Von Keller.] VON KELLER. Shall I go? [Max _nods_.] This is an interesting subject to develop, Colonel. I must say I think perhaps you are a little severe. But my time-- SCHWARTZE.