SIEBENHAAR
I had too much to worry me; that's all.
HENSCHEL
Those were the very times you used to come before. No, no, I know. You were right. An' the people are right too—all of 'em. I can't take no pride in myself no more.
SIEBENHAAR
Henschel, you must take some rest now.
HENSCHEL
No, no; we c'n talk about it a bit. You see, I know 'tis all my fault—I know that, an' with that we can let it be. But before I went an' took this woman—Hanne, I mean—before that it all began … slowly it began, slowly—but downhill right along. First thing, a good bonehandled whip broke. After that, I remember it right well, I drove over my dog an' he died. 'Twas the best little dog I had. Then, one right after another, three o' my horses died; an' one of 'em was the fine stallion that cost me five hundred crowns. An' then, last of all … my wife died. I noticed it well enough in my own thoughts that fate was against me. But when my wife went away from me, I had a minute in my own mind when I thought to myself: Now it's enough. There's not much else that c'n be taken from me. But you see, there was somethin' else.—I don't want to talk about Gustel. A man loses first his wife an' then a child—that's common. But no: a snare was laid for me an' I stepped into it.
SIEBENHAAR
Who laid a snare for you?