It’s getting dark. Karl Humboldt, the Weimar eccentric inventor, enters Mrs. Walsolz’s inn and takes a seat on one of the wooden tables, next to the fireplace. He seems to be in a melancholic mood. Mrs. Walsolz notices it, sits with him and asks the reason for his sadness. Humboldt talks to her about his wretched love. He had fallen in love with a foreign woman… and now he has lost track of her. He fears that she has returned to her country. Then, Humboldt beckons to the waiter and orders a beer jar. The waiter throws the jar from the counter and hits Humboldt’s head. Mrs. Walsolz reprimands him: “Viktor, how many times do I have to tell you that tables are not served that way?!” Humboldt is stunned by the blow and, in a state of semi-consciousness, murmurs the name of his beloved. When she hears it, she gets astonished:
-What did you say?
-Prtzil… Prtzil… My mustached Prtzil…
Mrs. Walsolz gets up suddenly: “Viktor, tell Miss Prtzil to come up! Hurry!”
Soon after, the alien princess enters the inn and finds herself face to face with her disheartened suitor who, remembering Holderlin’s advice (Of all the poets of the Romanticism’s golden age, Holderlin was possibly the wisest in love affairs: not only did he experience an unique and sublime love, but also his beloved, named Susette Gontard, loved him back with the same intensity. So it should not be surprising that his advice on this matter was so successful) Humboldt, remembering Holderlin’s advice, automatically does a handstand. That touches the extraterrestrial heart of the princess, and both merge in a hug. But since Humboldt is still upside down, they lose their balance and roll on the floor. While both lovers are still hugged on the ground in an inverted position (Humboldt hugging the princess’s feet and vice versa), the princess’s subjects surround them laughing with their huge mouths like black holes. All except the princess’ lieutenant whose Daliesque mustache emits, from their raised tips, a radio signal aimed at the crew of their flying saucer.
At the speed of lightning, the luminous ship is placed just above the inn. And suddenly projects a powerful ray of white light that crosses the roof and through which the two lovers ascend, still embraced, followed by the entire cohort of the mustached aliens. This is what Mrs. Walsolz watches petrified and almost as open-mouthed as the aliens when laughing. Meanwhile, from the adjacent streets or from their houses, the inhabitants of Weimar are equally gaping the metallic ship stopped over the inn.
After a few minutes, the flying saucer ascends at such a speed that, in a flash, is out of sight.