The horse-dealer, gently embracing her, replied: “Because, dearest Lisbeth, I will not abide in a country in which my rights are not protected. If I am to be trampled under foot, I would rather be a dog than a man. I am certain that, on this point, my wife thinks with me.”
“But how do you know,” she asked, wildly, “that they will not protect you in your rights? If you approach our sovereign as modestly as you ought, with your petition, how do you know that it will be cast aside, or answered with a refusal to hear you?”
“Well then,” answered Kohlhaas, “if my fear turns out to be groundless, my house, at any rate, is yet unsold. Our sovereign himself, I know, is just; and if I can succeed in approaching his person, through the people who surround him, I have no doubt I can obtain my rights, and before the week has passed, can return gladly to you and my old business back again. May I then,” he added, as he kissed her, “remain with you till the end of my life! However,” he continued, “it is advisable that I should be prepared for every event, and hence I wish you to leave this place for a time, if possible, and to go, with your children, to your aunt at Schwerin, whom you have been long anxious to visit?”
“How,” cried the wife. “I go to Schwerin?—I cross the border with my children, to go to my aunt at Schwerin?” And her voice was stifled with horror.
“Certainly,” replied Kohlhaas, “and, if possible, immediately, that I may not be impeded in the steps I am about to take in this matter.”
“Oh, I understand you,” she exclaimed. “You want nothing but weapons and horses; the rest any one may take who will.” And so saying, she threw herself down upon a seat and wept.
Kohlhaas, much perplexed, said: “Dearest Lisbeth, what are you doing? God has blessed me with wife, children, and property; shall I wish, for the first time, that it was otherwise?” And he sat down by her in a kindly mood, while she, at these words, fell blushing on his neck. “Tell me,” he said, moving the curls from her forehead, “what I am to do? Shall I give up my cause? Shall I go to Tronkenburg, and ask the knight for my horses, mount them, and then ride home to you?”
Lisbeth did not venture to answer “Yes;” she shook her head, weeping, clasped him fervently, and covered his breast with burning kisses.
“Good!” cried Kohlhaas. “Then, if you feel that I must have justice, if I am to carry on my business, grant me the liberty which is necessary to attain it.” Upon this he rose up, and said to the servant, who told him that his chestnut horse was saddled, that the horses must be put in harness the following day, to take his wife to Schwerin. Suddenly Lisbeth saying that a thought had struck her, raised herself, wiped the tears from her eyes, and asked him, as he sat down at a desk, whether he could not give her the petition, and let her go to Dresden instead of him, to present it to the sovereign.
Kohlhaas, struck by this sudden turn, for more reasons than one, drew her to him, and said: “Dearest wife, that is impossible! The sovereign is surrounded by many obstacles, and to many annoyances is the person exposed who ventures to approach him.”