"No; not once."
"That's just like a Dutchman. He won't go unless he's pushed. To-morrow I'll straighten matters between Anton and Thoma. I'll go and see the miller."
"Don't do that. Don't try to hitch up so fast. You understand what I mean. You know when a man wants to turn a wagon round, or back his horses, he can't do it on a gallop."
"Aha!" thought Landolin, "she's trying to be smart. Everybody thinks they're smarter than I am."
As Landolin was silent, his wife continued: "Now, you go to sleep. I'm sleepy."
The quiet did not last long, for Landolin tossed back and forth on his bed, and sighed and groaned.
"What is the matter? Aren't you tired?"
"Oh, wife, I can't make it real that I am not alone; and that the sword no longer hangs over my head. I see the counselor's glittering eye-glass on its black ribbon all the time. Indeed, you haven't your old husband any more. You have another--and I can't abide the fellow, he's so soft-hearted. I wish you would often remind me not to care for what other people think. They have forgotten me, and I'll do what I can to forget them. Only you must be very patient with me; but don't give up to me, and don't let me be so soft-hearted."
The strong man wept bitter tears in the depth of the night, and called out, almost with a curse:
"May my eyes run out if I ever weep again, as long as we two live together! I make this promise to you, and to myself. Others cannot embitter my life, if I do not embitter it myself. Yes, yes! Self-defense! Self-defense!"