"Well, what do you purpose doing?"
"For the next two years I shall be busy with the altar, which will yield me ample means to marry your daughter."
Long and wearily they argued, till Hans felt as if he could control himself no longer.
"O, patience!" he cried, "if it were not that I regard you as something holy, because you are the father of Marie, I would not brook your disdain. A king held the ladder for Dürer, and a Counselor treats his beloved pupil like a rogue. Yonder is a laughing, alluring world. There I have enjoyed all the honors of my calling; and here, in this little dark corner of the earth, I must let myself be trodden upon. All because I bring a ray of sunshine and beauty that hurts your blinded eyes—in short, because I am an artist."
"Go, then, into your artistic world. Why didn't you stay there? Why did you bother to return to this dark corner, as you name it?"
"Because I love your daughter so much, that no sacrifice I could make would be too great."
"Did you for one moment think that I could sink so far as to allow my daughter to marry an artist?"
"Yes, considering the respect I enjoyed."
"Well, I don't care how many times the King held the ladder, or whether or not he cleaned Dürer's shoes, I will hold to this: that as impossible as it is for you to build within the Cathedral an altar that is yet higher than the Cathedral, just so impossible is it for you to marry my daughter, who is so much above you in station."
"Mr. Counselor, is this your last word?" said Hans.