s there as a monument to the cruel
oppression which the inhabitants of Uri suffered at the hands of
the German Emperors. Good! On the Italian side of the Gotthard lies
Bellinzona, as you know. There are many towers to be seen there, but the
most curious is called Castel d'Uri. That's the monument recalling the
cruel oppression which the Italian cantons suffered at the hands of the
inhabitants of Uri! Now do you understand?

STRANGER. So freedom means: freedom to oppress others. That's new to me.

MELCHER. Then let's go on without further comment to the portrait
collection. Number one in the catalogue. Boccaccio, with two heads--all
our portraits have at least two heads. His story's well known. The great
man began his career by writing dissolute and godless tales, which
he dedicated to Queen Johanna of Naples, who'd seduced the son of St.
Brigitta. Boccaccio ended up as a saint in a monastery where he lectured
on Dante's Hell and the devils that, in his youth, he had thought to
drive out in a most original way. You'll notice now, how the two faces
are meeting each other's gaze!

STRANGER. Yes. But all trace of humour's lacking; and humour's to be
expected in a man who knew himself as well as our friend Boccaccio did.

MELCHER. Number two in the catalogue. Ah, yes; that's two-headed Doctor
Luther. The youthful champion of tolerance and the aged upholder of
intolerance. Have I said enough?

STRANGER. Quite enough.

MELCHER. Number three in the catalogue. The great Gustavus Adolphus
accepting Catholic funds from Cardinal Richelieu in order to fight for
Protestantism, whilst remaining neutral in the face of the Catholic
League.

STRANGER. How do Protestants explain this threefold contradiction?

MELCHER. They say it's not true. Number four in the catalogue. Schiller,
the author of The Robbers, who was offered the freedom of the City of
Paris by the leaders of the French Revolution in 1792; but who had been
made a State Councillor of Meiningen as early as 1790 and a royal Danish
Stipendiary in 1791. The scene depicts the State Councillor--and friend
of his Excellency Goethe--receiving the Diploma of Honour from the
leaders of the French Revolution as late as 1798. Think of it, the
diploma of the Reign of Terror in the year 1798, when the Revolution was
over and the country under the Directory! I'd have liked to have seen
the Councillor and his friend, His Excellency! But it didn't matter,
for two years later he repai