_Ponsch_. The soul of a little stage-child looms from under his green
eyes! OLENIKKE was right, and I-- No matter. I will open the window.

[_Opens it, and throws BEBBI-P. out. Sound of water-splash
audible._

_Jödi_. Oh my! Oh my! What have you done? He has fallen right into the
moat--on one of the swans!

_Ponsch_. Indeed--on one of the swans? (_A pot of mignonnette is blown
off the window-sill by a gust._) I will close the window. (_Closes it;
a hailstorm beats on the panes._) Is that really a hailstorm--or only
birds?

_Jödi_. I can hear nothing. (P. _strikes her suddenly on the head
with staff._) Someone is knocking at my door. Come in! I cannot see
anything now.

_Ponsch_. Can you, indeed, see nothing? [_He strikes her again._

_Jödi_. Now I can see stars. I feel as if purple mills were going
round in my head. I shall never kiss anybody any more. Oh! oh! oh!
[_She dies._

_Ponsch_. She was a beautiful woman, do you know? Oh, how lonely I
shall feel hereafter! (_A black dog is heard scratching and sniffing
outside the door._) It is only Tobbi. Someone has trod on your toe,
my poor Tobbi. Come in. Give me your paw. (_Tobbi enters, and flies
suddenly at his nose._) Oh, my nose is bleeding! Let us go to the