"It grieves me; but on my honour I will make all good again."
"That is more than you can do: though you were to empty out all your gold-bags into this room, yet would no hand grow again upon this stump; though you were to dress my child in brocade, and adorn her with pearls and diamonds, still she would be your strumpet, over whom I must tear the grey locks from this aged head. Gracious Heavens! how little must you gentlemen think of us poor people, that you fancy all is to be satisfied with gold,--all, life and limb, honour and conscience! Well; God is just, and will one day weigh you in even scales, and find you too light for his heaven."
"Only let two eyes be closed first," protested Francis, "and if I do not then take home your Agatha as my wife, and make you a man of consequence in the city, you may call me villain in the public market-place."
"My good Francis," exclaimed Agatha, affectionately, and gave him her hand, even before the eyes of her stern parent.
"If we both live," said Onophrius, with peculiar emphasis, "if we both live, I will remind you of your promise; but I fear that we shall not get so far; I fear that this day's tumult will have worse consequences than you imagine. That Bieler has been killed is a sad misfortune. The nobles will be mad, and I already begin to shudder at the idea of the jail and the scaffold."
"Is Bieler, then, really dead?" asked Francis anxiously, after a long silence.
"I saw him carried as a corpse to the Guildhall," replied Onophrius. "The thing, too, happened naturally enough. As my left hand flew off, I cut at his head with my right, and you soon after made an end of him."
"Upon all this we'll be silent to every one," said Francis, who had again collected himself. "For the rest, the whole business is of no great consequence. I was acting in self-defence; and you were only doing your duty. If any ill have grown out of it, Rasselwitz, who began the strife by breaking into my house, must be the sufferer."
"That won't satisfy the nobles," said Onophrius, shaking his head.
"Let them bite away their anger upon their nails," exclaimed Francis boastfully. "My father is master here in Schweidnitz, and will not let them hurt a hair upon my head."