SCENE I.
Minna's Room. Minna, Franziska

MIN. (in morning dress, looking at her watch).
Franziska, we have risen very early. The time will hang heavy on our
hands.

FRAN.
Who can sleep in these abominable large towns? The carriages, the
watchmen, the drums, the cats, the soldiers, never cease to rattle, to
call, to roll, to mew, and to swear; just as if the last thing the
night is intended for was for sleep. Have a cup of tea, my lady!

MIN.
I don't care for tea.

FRAN.
I will have some chocolate made.

MIN.
For yourself, if you like.

FRAN.
For myself! I would as soon talk to myself as drink by myself. Then
the time will indeed hang heavy. For very weariness we shall have to
make our toilets, and try on the dress in which we intend to make the
first attack!

MIN.
Why do you talk of attacks, when I have only come to require that the
capitulation be ratified?

FRAN.
But the officer whom we have dislodged, and to whom we have
apologized, cannot be the best bred man in the world, or he might at
least have begged the honour of being allowed to wait upon you.

MIN.
All officers are not Tellheims. To tell you the truth, I only sent him
the message in order to have an opportunity of inquiring from him
about Tellheim. Franziska, my heart tells me my journey will be a
successful one and that I shall find him.

FRAN.
The heart, my lady! One must not trust to that too much. The heart
echoes to us the words of our tongues. If the tongue was as much
inclined to speak the thoughts of the heart, the fashion of keeping
mouths under lock and key would have come in long ago.

MIN.
Ha! ha! mouths under lock and key. That fashion would just suit me.

FRAN.
Rather not show the most beautiful set of teeth, than let the heart be
seen through them every moment.

MIN.
What, are you so reserved?

FRAN.
No, my lady; but I would willingly be more so. People seldom talk of
the virtue they possess, and all the more often of that which they do
not possess.

MIN.
Franziska, you made a very just remark there.

FRAN.
Made! Does one make it, if it occurs to one?

MIN.
And do you know why I consider it so good? It applies to my Tellheim.

FRAN.
What would not, in your opinion, apply to him?

MIN.
Friend and foe say he is the bravest man in the world. But who ever
heard him talk of bravery? He has the most upright mind; but
uprightness and nobleness of mind are words never on his tongue.

FRAN.
Of what virtues does he talk then?

MIN.
He talks of none, for he is wanting in none.

FRAN.
That is just what I wished to hear.

MIN.
Wait, Franziska; I am wrong. He often talks of economy. Between
ourselves, I believe he is extravagant.

FRAN.
One thing more, my lady. I have often heard him mention truth and
constancy toward you. What, if he be inconstant?

MIN.
Miserable girl! But do you mean that seriously?

FRAN.
How long is it since he wrote to you?

MIN.
Alas! he has only written to me once since the peace.

FRAN.
What!—A sigh on account of the peace? Surprising? Peace ought only to
make good the ill which war causes; but it seems to disturb the good
which the latter, its opposite, may have occasioned. Peace should not
be so capricious!... How long have we had peace? The time seems
wonderfully long, when there is so little news. It is no use the post
going regularly again; nobody writes, for nobody has anything to write
about.

MIN.
"Peace has been made," he wrote to me, "and I am approaching the
fulfillment of my wishes." But since he only wrote that to me once,
only once!!!!!

FRAN.
And since he compels us to run after this fulfillment of his wishes
ourselves... If we can but find him, he shall pay for this! Suppose,
in the meantime, he may have accomplished his wishes, and we should
learn here that!!!!!

MIN. (anxiously).
That he is dead?

FRAN.
To you, my lady; and married to another.

MIN.
You tease, you! Wait, Franziska, I will pay you out for this! But talk
to me, or I shall fall asleep. His regiment was disbanded after the
peace. Who knows into what a confusion of bills and papers he may
thereby have been brought? Who knows into what other regiment, or to
what distant station, he may have been sent? Who knows what
circumstances—There's a knock at the door.

FRAN.
Come in!

SCENE II.
Landlord, Minna, Franziska

LAND. (putting his head in at the door).
Am I permitted, your ladyship?

FRAN.
Our landlord?—Come in!

LAND. (A pen behind his ear, a sheet of paper and an inkstand in his
hand).
I am come, your ladyship, to wish you a most humble good-morning;
(to Franziska)
and the same to you, my pretty maid.

FRAN.
A polite man!

MIN.
We are obliged to you.

FRAN.
And wish you also a good-morning.

LAND.
May I venture to ask how your ladyship has passed the first night
under my poor roof?

FRAN.
The roof is not so bad, sir; but the beds might have been better.

LAND.
What do I hear! Not slept well! Perhaps the over-fatigue of the
journey!!!!!

MIN.
Perhaps.

LAND.
Certainly, certainly, for otherwise.... Yet, should there be
anything not perfectly comfortable, my lady, I hope you will not fail
to command me.

FRAN.
Very well, Mr. Landlord, very well! We are not bashful; and least of
all should one be bashful at an inn. We shall not fail to say what we
may wish.

LAND.
I next come to...
(taking the pen from behind his ear).

FRAN.
Well?

LAND.
Without doubt, my lady, you are already acquainted with the wise
regulations of our police.

MIN.
Not in the least, sir.

LAND.
We landlords are instructed not to take in any stranger, of whatever
rank or sex he may be, for four-and-twenty hours, without delivering,
in writing, his name, place of abode, occupation, object of his
journey, probable stay, and so on, to the proper authorities.

MIN.
Very well.

LAND.
Will your ladyship then be so good...
(going to the table, and making ready to write).

MIN.
Willingly. My name is!!!!!

LAND.
One minute!
(He writes.)
"Date, 22nd August, A. D., &C.; arrived at the King of Spain hotel."
Now your name, my lady.

MIN.
Fraulein von Barnhelm.

LAND. (writes).
"Von Barnhelm." Coming from.... where, your ladyship?

MIN.
From my estate in Saxony.

LAND. (writes).
"Estate in Saxony." Saxony! Indeed, indeed! In Saxony, your ladyship?
Saxony?

FRAN.
Well, why not? I hope it is no sin in this country to come from Saxony!

LAND.
A sin? Heaven forbid! That would be quite a new sin! From Saxony then?
Yes, yes, from Saxony, a delightful country, Saxony! But if I am
right, your ladyship, Saxony is not small, and has several—how shall
I call them? districts, provinces. Our police are very particular,
your ladyship.

MIN.
I understand. From my estate in Thuringia, then.

LAND.
From Thuringia! Yes, that is better, your ladyship; that is more
exact.
(Writes and reads.)
"Fraulein von Barnhelm, coming from her estate in Thuringia, together
with her lady in waiting and two men servants."

FRAN.
Lady in waiting! That means me, I suppose!

LAND.
Yes, my pretty maid.

FRAN.
Well, Mr. Landlord, instead of "lady in waiting," write "maid in
waiting." You say, the police are very exact; it might cause a
misunderstanding, which might give me trouble some day when my banns
are read out. For I really am still unmarried, and my name is
Franziska, with the family name of Willig: Franziska Willig. I also
come from Thuringia. My father was a miller, on one of my lady's
estates. It is called Little Rammsdorf. My brother has the mill now. I
was taken very early to the manor, and educated with my lady. We are
of the same age—one-and-twenty next Candlemas. I learnt everything my
lady learnt. I should like