Colonel, the local glee club asks to be allowed to sing you some songs--kindly listen to the little serenade as a feeble expression of the general veneration and love. COLONEL. Gentlemen, I regret exceedingly that a case of illness in my family makes it desirable for me to have you curtail your artistic performance. I thank you for your intentions, and beg you will sing to Professor Oldendorf the songs you had designed for me. FRITZ KLEINMICHEL. We considered it our duty first to greet you before visiting your friend. In order not to disturb invalids, we will, with your permission, place ourselves further away from the house, in the garden. COLONEL. Do as you please. [FRITZ KLEINMICHEL _and the two others leave_.] Is this act, too, an invention of yours? BOLZ (_with a bow_). Partially at least. But you are too kind, Colonel, if you look upon me as the sole originator of all these demonstrations. My share in it is really a small one. I have done nothing but edit public opinion a little; all these different people are not dolls, which a skilful puppet-man can move around by pulling wires. These are all voices of capable and honorable persons, and what they have said to you is actually the general opinion of the town--that is to say, the conviction of the better and more sensible elements in the town. Were that not the case I should have labored quite in vain with these good people to bring a single one of them into your house. COLONEL. He is right again, and I am always in the wrong! BOLZ (_very courteously_). Permit me to explain further, that I consider these tender expressions of general regard out of place now, and that I deeply regret my share in them. Today at least, no friend of Oldendorf has any occasion to praise your chivalrous sentiments or your self-effacement. COLONEL (_going toward him_). Doctor Bolz, you use the privilege of your profession to speak recklessly, and are insulting outsiders in a way that exhausts my patience. You are in my house, and it is a customary social amenity to respect the domicile of one's opponent. BOLZ (_leaning on a chair, good-naturedly_). If you mean by that that you have a right to expel from your house unwelcome guests you did not need to remind me of it, for this very day you shut your doors on another whose love for you gave him a better right to be here than I have. COLONEL. Sir, such brazen-facedness I have never yet experienced. BOLZ (_with a bow_). I am a journalist, and claim what you have just called the privilege of my profession. [_Grand march by brass band. Enter_ CARL _quickly_.] COLONEL (_going toward him_). Shut the garden gate; no one is to come in. [_The music stops_.] BOLZ (_at the window_). You are locking your friends out; this time I am innocent. CARL. Ah, Colonel, it is too late. The singers are back there in the garden, and in front a great procession is approaching the house; it is Mr. von Senden and the entire club. [_Goes to rear of stage_.]