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Philip: I don't know if I may say it.
Prince: You're not usually so shy.
Philip: What if my mother is not dead at all...
Prince: Hm.
Philip: If it were my mother who, through this remarkable
chain of circumstances is now niding to the city in the very same
car nunge in which I came out. If it were my own mother whose pic¬
ture I cut out of the paper.
Prince: Boy, you will decidedly be minister—at least of
agriculture.... But come now, we must leave too.
Count and Countess: ( die back from the entrance.)
Prince: And so, dear friend, now unfortunately we must say
farewell.
But won't you stay? We'd so like to have you stay to
Count;
luncheon.
Prince: Sorry, but it’s impossible...We have an appointment
at the Bristol.
Count: That's really too bad. And now we than’t see you
all summer.
Prince: Well, we’ll still be on this earth.
Count: And tomorrow you're going away?
Prince: Yes.
Count: Where to?
Prince: To the seashore, to Ostend.
Count: Ah, to Ostend. I've long wanted to go there.
Prince: It would be very nice...
Count: Now, what do you think, Mizzi? Let's be lports.
Let's go
to Ostend too.
Countess: I can’t decide yet. But you can anyhow, dear
Papa.
Philip: It would really be faireming, Countess. I’d enjoy
it hugely.
Countess (smiling) You're very kind, Philip. (Offers him her
hand.)
Philip (kisses it)