Doctor.--But it would be a dreadful thing if we do not win this time. Anton.--I am sure we will win. You are a fearful candidate for our adversaries. You have only one antagonist who is at all dangerous--Husarski, a rich and popular nobleman. Doctor.--Once I am in parliament, I will try to accomplish something. Anton.--I believe in you, and for that reason I am working for you. Ha! ha! "They have already taken from us everything," said Count Hornicki at the club yesterday, "importance, money--even good manners." Well, at least I have not taken their good manners from them. To the devil with them! Doctor.--No, you have truly not taken their good manners from them. Anton.--But it is said in the city that your prince has given a thousand florins to those whose houses were burned. This may be bad for us. You must do something also. Doctor.--I did what I could. Anton.--I must also tell you that yesterday--What is the matter with you? I am talking to you and you are thinking about something else. Doctor.--Excuse me. I am in great trouble. I cannot think as calmly as usual. Anton.--The idea! Doctor.--You could not understand it. Anton.--I am the coachman of the carriage in which you are riding--I must know everything. Doctor.--No. It does not concern you. Anton.--It does concern me, because you are losing your energy. We have no need of any Hamlets. Doctor (gloomily).--You are mistaken. I have not given up. Anton.--I see. You close your mouth on this subject. It is not in your character to give up. Doctor.--No. You must work to have me elected. I would lose doubly if we were bitten. Anton.--They must have burned you like the deuce, for you hiss dreadfully. Doctor.--An old story. A peasant did not sleep for six years, did not eat, bent his neck, wounded his hands, and carried logs for a hut. After six years a lord came along, kicked the hut and said: "My castle shall stand here." We are sceptical enough to laugh at such things. Anton.--He was a real lord! Doctor.--A lord for generations. He carried his head so high that he did not notice what cracked beneath his feet. Anton.--I like the story. And what about the peasant? Doctor.--According to the peasant tradition, he is thinking of a flint and tinder. Anton.--Glorious idea! Truly we despise tradition too much. There are good things in it. Doctor.--Enough. Let us talk of something else. Anton (looking around).--An old and rich house. It would make a splendid cabin. Doctor.--What do you say? Anton.--Nothing. Has the old prince a daughter? Doctor.--Yes. Why? Anton (laughing).--Ha, ha! Your trouble has the scent of a perfume used by a lady. I smell here the petticoat of the princess. Behind the member of parliament is Jozwowicz, just as behind the evening dress there is the morning gown. What a strong perfume! Doctor.--You may sell your perspicacity at another market. It is my personal affair.