THE LAST DAYS OF MANKIND ACT I SCENE 8
A street in the inner suburbs. A dress shop, the Café Westminster. Three young me step forward, one carrying a ladder, strips of paper and glue.
YOUNG MAN 1: Hey, we’ve got another one here! What does that sign say? Stern’s Grande Couture.  We paper that one over completely!
YOUNG MAN 2: Keep something, so people know what sort of shop it is. Like this (pasting over and painting) Stern’s Big Dresses. That’s better.
YOUNG MAN 3: Café Westminster, that’s a very English sort of word!
YOUNG MAN 1: It’s a coffeehouse, he could be a big shot. Wait, I’ll get him. (He goes in and comes back immediately with the café owner, who is visibly dismayed.) You understand, I’m sure – it’s a patriotic sacrifice –
COFFEEHOUSE OWNER: Who could have foreseen all this? I called it the Café Westminster because we’re by the Westbahn Station,  where English lords arrive in the tourist season, so they feel at home right away –
YOUNG MAN 1: Was there ever an English lord in your café?
COFFEEHOUSE OWNER: God, those were the days!
YOUNG MAN 1: There won’t be any now, OK!
COFFEEHOUSE OWNER: Thank heaven – and God scourge England – but the name is so established, after the war, when the English clientele comes back, please God – surely you can show some consideration –
YOUNG MAN 1: The people’s voice accommodates no consideration –
COFFEEHOUSE OWNER: Of course we’re a people’s café, more or less -
YOUNG MAN 2: Don’t fret yourself, we won’t do much damage – we’ll have it done in a jiffy – painless into the bargain. (He scratches out the ‘i’.)
There! Now you can just get a painter to paint in an ‘ü’, umlaut –
COFFEEHOUSE OWNER: Café Westmünster - ?
YOUNG MAN 2: Almost the same and German. No one will even notice the change, but it’ll be quite clear to everyone that it’s entirely different.
(Two customers leave the café now and say goodbye to one another, one saying: Adieu! The other: Addio!)
YOUNG MAN 1: Is your café frequented by Frenchies and Eyties too? Adieu and addio? You seem to have a suspiciously international clientele –
COFFEEHOUSE OWNER: Lots of people say adieu –
YOUNG MAN 2: Addio? That’s the language of our sworn enemy, Italy!
YOUNG MAN 3: Traitors! River Po oath breakers!
YOUNG MAN 1: Back-stabbers!
(The coffeehouse owner has gradually moved back into the café.)
YOUNG MAN 3 (shouting after him): You English dago!
YOUNG MAN 1: It’s a pain, but I’m hors de combat for the rest of today, and quite pressed for time actually, I’ve got little a rendezvous –
YOUNG MAN 2: That’s bad news. We might get into hot water without our enfant terrible. Not that I’m bothered, apropos people getting shirty and -
YOUNG MAN 3: It’s all c’est la vie as far as I’m concerned –
YOUNG MAN 2: I’m always very discrete, but I won’t be intimidated, that’s de rigueur. Now that we’ve entered upon this patriotic campaign en masse, it’s got to be driven forward tout de suite, regardless of cost.
YOUNG MAN 3: Yes, but if there’s some nouveau riche sort getting het up vis-à-vis his livelihood being destroyed – whingeing and giving out to us -
YOUNG MAN 1: Label him as a subversive element, agent provocateur! Courage, Mon Brave! Give me a status report tomorrow - good God, quarter to five - I’ll be late for the femme fatale - have fun - que sera, sera - adieu!
YOUNG MAN 3: Your servant!
YOUNG MAN 1: Servitore!
YOUNG MAN 2: Au revoir!
YOUNG MAN 1(turning back): Apropos, that’s to say in the event of anybody objecting, just identify yourselves very simply as interim volunteers of the Provisional Central Commission of the Executive Committee of the League for the General Boycott of Foreign Words. Addio!
 Der Vorstadt, Viennese districts just beyond the Ringstrasse, and therefore the old city walls.
 Originally four.
 Literal translation of the changes made to some of the French and English is impossible, since the original depends on the spelling of German words; what follows is a reasonably close equivalent.
 One of the members of the Coffeehouse owners association in I.17
 Terminus for trains from Western Europe.
 The Italian refusal to join Triple Alliance partners, Germany and Austria-Hungary, in the war was seen as treachery. If the Rhine symbolised Germany and the Danube Austria-Hungary (it flows through Vienna and Budapest), the River Po is the great river of northern Italy; the three rivers have their watersheds in the same place, the Witenwasserenstock, between the Swiss cantons of Valais and Uri. Austria-Hungary fought rebellious Italians in the Po Valley from the time of Napoleon until the unification of Italy and the end of Austro-Hungarian rule in most of northern Italy; the carnage of a brutal campaign along the Po in 1859 led to the creation of the Swiss Red Cross. In 1866, during the Austro-Prussian War, Italy allied with Prussia; when Austria surrendered the province of Venetia was finally abandoned, its last major territory in Italy. Reaching the Po would become a major strategic aim in the Austro-Hungarian war with Italy after 1915.