Ille.—"Marry, I'll take good care I won't—to fly from one danger to another; for will he not hunt us there—ay, till his spurs are red, and shouting all the way after me till his lungs burst like an old wind-bag."
Illa.—"Whither, then, my father?"
Ille.—"To Stramehl, methinks, to my cousin Bastien, where we shall remain until the time is passed in which he can question the spirits; for, if I remember rightly, the sun will enter Libra in a few days."
Illa.—"But, dear father, is it not cruel thus to torment the good Prince? Oh! it must be so beautiful to talk to an angel!"
Ille.—"Do not anger me, my heart's daughter, do not anger me. Better be George Putkammer's good loving wife; turn thy thoughts that way, my daughter, and in a year there will be something better worth looking at in the cradle than a spirit."
Illa blushes and plucks the nuts over her head.
Ille.—"What sayest thou? Art thou for ever to put off these marriage thoughts?"
Illa.—"Ah! my heart's dear father, what would my poor grandmother say in eternity? It is impossible that, without God's will, the Duke and the poor ghost should have come upon the same thoughts about me."
Ille.—"Anger me not, child; thou art a silly, superstitious thing; without God's will, it may well be, but not without the devil's will. Thou hast heard what Luther says of ghosts, and we must believe him. Eh?"
Illa.—"But my Lord Duke and Dr. Joel say quite differently. Ah, father, let me see the blessed angels! Dr. Joel surely has seen them often, and yet no danger befell him."