Paris Street in Bucharest is impassable because of the crowd.A policeman clutches at the shirt of some individual who refuses to be taken in custody and who in his turn clutches at the policeman's shirt. The public, who have forborne seeing about their business are - as usual - divided into two camps: a democratic one (which invariably sides with the persecuted rank and file) and another (which invariably sides with order, even at the price of disorder).Shopkeepers, stand stock-still on the threshold of their businesses; cabmen clamour standing on their boxes; in the windows emerge - though shyly enough - pretty young ladies, with their heads blossoming with curling pins, frightened out of their sleep in the typical attire of sultry summer nights. Constable: Leave off of my shirt and come on to the police station or I'11 pull out my levorver. Individual: I won't. Take your hand off my collar or I'll stick my knife into you.Fat Gentleman: Let him go... Let him alone, constable. Lady with Streamers: Let go of the man, you brigand!Lean Thin Gentleman: Take him in custody, you milksop!Constable: Sir, please don't call me a milksop! Lean Gentleman: Look what a chump he is! Get him, you blockhead!Constable: Now, who's a blockhead? Come on, to the police station with me. Lean Gentleman: I, to the police station? With you? You swine!Constable: Don't swear at me, Sir! Who are you to swear at me?Well-bred Gentleman: He's right. You shouldn't swear at people.Lean Gentleman: But who are you to butt in?Well-bred Gentleman: I've butted in because you butted in. Why should you butt in? Constable, take him in custody.Lean Gentleman: Whom should he take?Well-bred Gentleman: You. You shouldn't have called him names.Lean Gentleman: I haven't.Well-bred gentleman: Yes, you have. Lean Gentleman: Did I call him names, Sir? Well-bred Gentleman: Sir, you have been a witness, didn't he call him names?Interpellated Gentleman: Well, what of it? Well-bred Gentleman: What d'you mean, Sir? Interpellated Gentleman: He deserved it. Well-bred Gentleman: Now, how can that be? Interpellated Gentleman: What would you like him to do?Cash wages for a whistle?Well-bred Gentleman: Have you been to Germany? Interpellated Gentleman: What about you? Well-bred Gentlemen: I'd like to see you curse a policeman in that country... They'd make mincemeat of you and fill krennwursts with you. Interpellated Gentleman: Warnewursts, you, smart sleek!... And you pretend you've been to Germany. Constable: Please walk away. Well-bred Gentleman: Who should?Constable: You too.Well-bred Gentleman: Who, I?... The devil may take you for the idiot you are! People are right to call you names. Let everybody call him names!
by Gheorghe Brăescu (1871-1949)
