to sit on the bench to save themselves from falling backwards over it, and is herself dragged into sitting between them. The second soldier, holding on tight to the Grand Duchess with one hand, produces papers with the other, and waves them towards Schneidekind, who takes them from him and passes them on to the General. He opens them and reads them with a grave expression.
SCHNEIDEKIN. Be good enough to wait, prisoner, until the General has read the papers on your case.
THE GRAND DUCHESS [to the soldiers]. Let go. [To Strammfest]. Tell them to let go, or I'll upset the bench backwards and bash our three heads on the floor.
FIRST SOLDIER. No, little mother. Have mercy on the poor.
STRAMMFEST [growling over the edge of the paper he is reading]. Hold your tongue.
THE GRAND DUCHESS [blazing]. Me, or the soldier?
STRAMMFEST [horrified]. The soldier, madam.
THE GRAND DUCHESS. Tell him to let go.
STRAMMFEST. Release the lady.
- The soldiers take their hands off her. One of them wipes his fevered brow. The other sucks his wrist.
SCHNEIDKIND [fiercely]. 'ttention!
- The two soldiers sit up stiffly.
THE GRAND DUCHESS. Oh, let the poor man suck his wrist. It may be poisoned. I bit it.
STRAMMFEST [shocked]. You bit a common soldier!
GRAND DUCHESS. Well, I offered to cauterize it with the poker in the office stove. But he was afraid. What more could I do?
SCHNEIDEKIND. Why did you bite him, prisoner?
THE GRAND DUCHESS. He would not let go.
STRAMMFEST. Did he let go when you bit him?
THE GRAND DUCHESS. No. [Patting the soldier on the back]. You should give the man a cross for his
