Smetse caught by the Two Branches
But he could not answer by reason of his great astonishment.
And although there was no wind the trunks and branches of the tree moved and swung about like serpents uncoiling, while all around there crackled above ten hundred thousand sparks.
And Smetse grew more afraid, and a hot breath passed across his face, and the voice, speaking again, but nearer, or so it seemed, repeated: “Where goest thou, Smetse?”
But he could not speak for fear, and because his throttle was dry and his teeth chattering.
“Why,” said the voice, “dost not dare answer him who wishes thee naught but well? Where goest thou, Smetse?”
Hearing so pleasant and friendly a speech, the good smith took heart and answered with great humility: “Lord whom I cannot see, I was going to kill myself, for life is no longer bearable.”
“Smetse is mad,” said the voice.
“So I am, if you will, Lord,” answered the smith; “nevertheless when my smithy is lost to me by the cunning of a wicked neighbour, and I have no way to live but by begging and knavery, ’twould be greater madness in me to live than to die.”