SCHWARTZE.
[Angrily.] I must know, sir, how we stand, in what light I am to treat you.
VON KELLER.
Oh, pardon me, now I understand-- [Working himself up.] Colonel, you see in me a man who takes life earnestly. The days of a light youth-- [Schwartze looks up angrily.] Pardon me, I meant to say--since early this morning a holier and, if I may say so, a more auspicious resolution has arisen within me. Colonel, I am not a man of many words. I have already wandered from the point. As one man of honor to another, or-- in short, Colonel, I have the honor to ask you for the hand of your daughter. [Schwartze sits motionless, breathing heavily.] Pardon me, you do not answer--am I perhaps not worthy--
SCHWARTZE.
[Groping for his hand.] No, no, no; not that,--not that. I am an old man. These last hours have been a little too much for me. Don't mind me.
VON KELLER.
H'm, h'm!
SCHWARTZE.
[Rising, and closing the lid of the pistol-case.] Give me your hand, my young friend. You have brought heavy sorrow upon me,--heavy sorrow. But you have promptly and bravely made it good. Give me the other hand. So, so! And now do you wish to speak to her also? You will have much to say. Eh?