His Wife.
My dearest one, I was not, I am not, hungry.
The Man.
Oh, it was shameful and unmanly of me! The dandy who jostled me in the park did rightly, for he saw that it was a mere sensual pig that was passing him by—a wild boar of sharp tusks indeed, but most gross mind.
His Wife.
If you go on scolding yourself so unjustly I shall weep again.
The Man.
No, no, you must not weep. When I see tears in those pretty eyes I am seized with dread. Yes, I am afraid of those little crystal drops; for, whenever I behold them, I feel as though it were not you, but some stranger whom I know not, that were shedding them. No, you must not weep. We are poor, and have nothing, I know, but we can talk of what we shall surely have some day, and I can tell you bright fairy tales, and wrap you round with shining fancies, my little queen.
His Wife.
Ah, we have no cause to be afraid. You are too strong, and too great a genius, to be vanquished by life. The present time will pass away, and inspiration will once more spread its influence over your splendid head.