“Thou hast drunk more than thy thirst required, comrade!” said the others. “If thou hast fallen into the chest, remain lying there, thou swine!” And laughing they left him.
“O, the rascals!” sighed he, and worked in vain at opening the lid. Through all his powerful exertions the box fell over. The young men now stepped forth, and, as though they were highly astonished at the whole history which he related to them, they let themselves be prevailed upon to open the box, but only upon condition that he should keep street free from the interference of the other watchmen whilst they danced a Française to Wilhelm’s violin.
The poor man was delivered from his captivity, and must obligingly play the sentinel whilst they arranged them for the dance. Wilhelm was called upon to play, and the dance commenced; a partner, however, was wanting. Just then a quiet citizen passed by. The gentleman who had no partner approached the citizen with comic respect, and besought him to take part in the amusement.
“I never dance!” said the man, laughing, and wished to pursue his way.
“Yes,” replied the cavalier, “yet you must still do me this pleasure, or else I shall have no dance.” Saying this he took hold of him by the waist and the dance commenced, whether the good man would or no.
“The watchman should receive a present from every one!” said they, when the Française was at an end. “He is an excellent man who thus keeps order in the street, so that one can enjoy a little dance.”
“These are honest people’s children!” said the watchman to himself, whilst he with much pleasure thrust the money into his leathern purse.
All was again quiet in the street; the violin was also silent.