pers,
etc., is set across the room. At the end of the table, a comfortable
chair for the General. Behind the chair, a window. Facing it at the
other end of the table, a plain wooden bench. At the side of the table,
with its back to the door, a common chair, with a typewriter before it.
Beside the door, which is opposite the end of the bench, a rack for caps
and coats. There is nobody in the room.

General Strammfest enters, followed by Lieutenant Schneidekind. They
hang up their cloaks and caps. Schneidekind takes a little longer than
Strammfest, who comes to the table.

STRAMMFEST. Schneidekind.

SCHNEIDEKIND. Yes, sir.

STRAMMFEST. Have you sent my report yet to the government? [He sits
down.]

SCHNEIDEKIND [coming to the table]. Not yet, sir. Which government do
you wish it sent to? [He sits down.]

STRAMMFEST. That depends. What's the latest? Which of them do you think
is most likely to be in power tomorrow morning?

SCHNEIDEKIND. Well, the provisional government was going strong
yesterday. But today they say that the Prime Minister has shot himself,
and that the extreme left fellow has shot all the others.

STRAMMFEST. Yes: that's all very well; but these fellows always shoot
themselves with blank cartridge.

SCHNEIDEKIND. Still, even the blank cartridge means backing down. I
should send the report to the Maximilianists.

STRAMMFEST. They're no stronger than the Oppidoshavians; and in my own
opinion the Moderate Red Revolutionaries are as likely to come out on
top as either of them.

SCHNEIDEKIND. I can easily put a few carbon sheets in the typewriter and
send a copy each to the lot.

STRAMMFEST. Waste of paper. You might as well send reports to an infant
school. [He throws his head on the table with a groan.]

SCHNEIDEKIND. Tired out, Sir?

STRAMMFEST. O Schneidekind, Schneidekind, how can you bear to live?

SCHNEIDEKIND. At my age, sir, I ask myself how can I bear to die?

STRAMMFEST. You are young, young and heartless. You are excited by the
revolution: you are attached to abstract things like liberty. But
my family has served the Panjandrums of Beotia faithfully for seven
centuries. The Panjandrums have kept our place for us at their courts,
honored us, promoted us, shed their glory on us, made us what we
are. When I hear you young men declaring that you are fighting for
civilization, for democracy, for the overthrow of militarism, I ask
myself how can a man shed his blood for empty words u