"Because he should not venture to treat even a stranger so?" Freyer laughed sadly, bitterly: "I thank you, keep your servant--I will renounce this satisfaction."
"I do not know what else you desire."
"You do not know? Oh, Heaven, had this happened earlier, what would your feelings have been! Do you remember your emotion in the Passion Play, when I received only the semblance of a blow upon the cheek? Did it not, as you said, strike your own heart? How should you feel when you saw it in reality? Oh, tears should have streamed down your cheeks with grief for the poor deserted husband, who the only time he crossed your threshold, was insulted by your lackey. If you still retained one spark of love for me, you would feel that a single kiss pressed compassionately on my cheek to efface the brand would be a greater satisfaction than the dismissal of a servant whom you would have sacrificed to any stranger. But that is over, we no longer understand each other!"
The countess struggled a moment between pity and repugnance. But at the thought of pressing her lips to the face her servant's hand had struck, loathing overwhelmed her and she turned away.
"Yes, turn your back upon me--for should you look me in the eyes now, you would be forced to lower your own and blush with shame."
"I beg you to consider that I am not accustomed to such outbreaks, and shall be compelled to close the conversation, if your manner does not assume a form more in accord with the standard of my circle."
"Yes, I understand! You dread the element you have unchained? A peasant was very well, by way of variety, was he not? He loved differently, more ardently, more fiercely than your smooth city gentlemen. The strength and the impetuosity of the untutored man were not too rude when I bore you through the flaming forest, and caught the falling branches which threatened to crush you--then you did not fear me, you did not thrust me back within the limits of your social forms; on the contrary, you rejoiced that the world still contained power and might, and felt yourself a Titaness. Why have you suddenly become so weak-nerved, and cannot endure this might--because it has turned against you?"
"No," said the countess, with a flash of deadly hatred in her fathomless grey eyes: "Not on that account--but because at that time I believed you to be different from what you really are. Then I believed I beheld a God, now I perceive that it was a--" She paused.
"Go on--put no constraint on yourself--now you perceive that it was a peasant."
"You just called yourself by that name."