Oh, but I am greatly troubled, I am deeply grieved. [_Sitting down on a chair he surveys the strange place in which he finds himself with considerable interest._] It is hard to say; it is extremely difficult to communicate to any one the real depth of anxiety. But forgive me a question, sir: I was in the trophy-chamber.--[_He touches one of the armored dummies with his cane._] What kind of armor is this? HASSENREUTER These figures are to represent the cuirassiers in Schiller's "Wallenstein." PASTOR SPITTA Ah, ah, my idea of Schiller was so very different! [_Collecting himself._] Oh, this city of Berlin! It confuses me utterly. You see a man before you, sir, who is not only grieved, whom this Sodom of a city has not only stirred to his very depths, but who is actually broken-hearted by the deed of his son. HASSENREUTER A deed? What deed? PASTOR SPITTA Is there any need to ask? The son of an honest man desiring to become an ... an ... an actor! HASSENREUTER [_Drawing himself up. With the utmost dignity._] My dear sir, I do not approve of your son's determination. But I am myself--_honi soit qui mal y pense_--the son of an honest man and myself, I trust, a man of honour. And I, whom you see before you, have been an actor, too. No longer than six weeks ago I took part in the Luther celebration--for I am no less an apostle of culture in the broadest sense--not only as manager but by ascending the boards on which the world is shadowed forth as an actor! From my point of view, therefore, your son's determination is scarcely open to objection on the score of his social standing or his honourable character. But it is a difficult calling and demands, above all, a high degree of talent. I am also willing to admit that it is a calling not without peculiar dangers to weak characters. And finally I have myself proved the unspeakable hardships of my profession so thoroughly that I would like to guard anyone else from entering it. That is the reason why I box my daughters' ears if the slightest notion of going on the stage seizes them, and why I would rather tie stones about their necks and drown them where the sea is deepest than see them marry actors. PASTOR SPITTA I didn't mean to wound any one's feelings. I admit, too, that a simple country parson like myself can't very well have much of a conception of such things. But consider a father now--just such a poor country parson--who has saved and hoarded his pennies in order that his son might have a career at the university. Now consider, further, that this son is just about to take his final examinations and that his father and his mother--I have a sick wife at home--are looking forward with anxiety and with longing, whichever you call it, toward the moment in which their son will mount the pulpit and deliver the trial sermon before the congregation of his choice. And then comes this letter. Why, the boy is mad!