Arrivée d'une Schwytzoise

Standing in front of the swanky gate, Gertie looks over the buildings she can see from this point. What a showy place this is... she thinks contemptuously. But she's not surprised at all. An arrogant place for an arrogant man.

She don't want to be here. It causes her belly ache to stand here at this gate... seems to her like hell's gate. But she got to. She takes a deep breath and tears herself together.
Another look around doesn't show anyone.

Eh! Anybody here? I demand admission!!

She examines the degenerated guard. A lordly manor the gentleman thus has, but the first person appears is hardly more than a beggar. Compassion moves in her chest, paired with annoyance about the master of this poor creature. Instinctively the expression on her face softens.

Bon jour. My name is Gertie de Carinthian. Would you please tell your master that I wish to speak him?

She looks at the servant with a friendly smile.

She understands hardly but though understands what the grumpy old man's mumbling. Big sigh... She digs in her memory for the long forgotten ability of speaking french. Then she says loud and clear, but surely false...

Moi je suis la dame Gertie de Carinthian. Je voudrais parler avec ton maître. S'il te plaît dire-lui cela !

She holds her friendly smile, but accentuates her demand with an inviting gesture.