The next time that Wilhelmi saw Sara, she told him what she had done, and added:
‘I hope I have been right, but it seems to me that there are many girls in Elberthal who ought to have had the parts offered to them—your townspeople,’ she added, smiling.
Wilhelmi laughed as he asked, ‘Do you seriously mean to say you think there is any one young woman in Elberthal except yourself who would in the least look the part of Thusnelda?’
Sara laughed, but was obliged to confess that she did not.
She wrote to Jerome, telling him what she was going to do; adding, ‘I hope you don’t mind. My Hermann will only be Max Helmuth; he will look the part every inch, I must say, but he is quite harmless; he is engaged to Wilhelmi’s daughter, and wildly in love with her; so say you don’t mind, because they have set their hearts upon it.’
Jerome replied that she must certainly take the part. ‘I suppose your Hermann is a contrast to me. One can only think of that enlightened barbarian as some fair-haired giant, with a fierce yellow moustache. You will make an ideal Thusnelda, I must say, according to Heinrich Kleist’s version, at any rate.’
Relieved in her mind at having Jerome’s consent, and Wilhelmi’s approval, Sara gave herself up with genuine artist’s delight to rehearsing and preparing her parts; that of Thusnelda in especial, giving her real joy and pleasure. The festival itself was fixed for the middle of October.
