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JULIUS ZEYER
9

stands, golden grass seems to grow! At least that is what my wife has said.

Radúz.—So thou hast seen her both weep and smile?

Vratko.—As near at hand as I see thee, my handsome youth, have I seen her; and I have seen her weep one time, when she entered our hut, when our child was ill; and later I saw her smile, like the morning star rising in the heavens, when our child became well again, and when singing she dandled it. Ah, how fair she is, fairer than the moon! Thou wilt see, thyself, if thou catch sight of her. But thou must not gaze straight at her, suddenly! Thou mightst be struck as if by lightning when it flashes from out the darkness and floods the whole sky with fire! First look merely at her feet, which are like lilies in slippers of gold, then lift thine eyes to her waist, and lastly, when thou hast become wonted to such beauty, gaze at her clear forehead . . . But how I have been talking. I must go home to my wife and little son.

Radúz.—Thou art a good man and hast comforted me much by thy speech. How dost thou earn thy living?

Vratko.—I cut wood in the forest and also have a little field of my own.

Radúz.—And about how much dost thou earn each day?

Vratko.—Enough, sir, enough. Three whole groats.

Radúz.—And does that suffice for thy support?

Vratko.—Spend three groats a day? No, one supports me, the second I lend, and the third I repay.

Radúz.—What dost thou mean? I do not well understand.

Vratko.—It is like this, sir. I have an old father; he raised me and I repay him now. Then I have a little son, my joy! Well, to him I lend. When I am old and weak, he will repay me as I now repay my father. And the third groat—on that we live.

Radúz.—I like thee, pious man. Here I have three coins. Take this one for thy father, this for thyself, and this for thy son.

Vratko.—They shine, sir . . . They seem to dazzle me, so that I fear I should almost have forgotten to say to thee: “‘I thank thee”! It is like the sun . . . It is like gold. Is it gold?

Radúz.—It is.

Vratko.—Verily thou art a rich man! . . . And dost thou really give me this gold?

Radúz.—I do indeed.