ey emerged upon the top of the bank, they
beheld Fritz and Ottilia some way off; he, very black and bloodshot,
emphasising his hoarse speech with the smacking of his fist against his
palm; she, standing a little way off in blowsy, voluble distress.

'Dear me!' said Mr. Gottesheim, and made as if he would turn aside.

But Otto went straight towards the lovers, in whose dissension he
believed himself to have a share. And, indeed, as soon as he had seen
the Prince, Fritz had stood tragic, as if awaiting and defying his
approach.

'O, here you are!' he cried, as soon as they were near enough for easy
speech. 'You are a man at least, and must reply. What were you after?
Why were you two skulking in the bush? God!' he broke out, turning again
upon Ottilia, 'to think that I should waste my heart on you!'

'I beg your pardon,' Otto cut in. 'You were addressing me. In virtue of
what circumstance am I to render you an account of this young lady's
conduct? Are you her father? her brother? her husband?'

'O, sir, you know as well as I,' returned the peasant. 'We keep company,
she and I. I love her, and she is by way of loving me; but all shall be
above-board, I would have her to know. I have a good pride of my own.'

'Why, I perceive I must explain to you what love is,' said Otto. 'Its
measure is kindness. It is very possible that you are proud; but she,
too, may have some self-esteem; I do not speak for myself. And perhaps,
if your own doings were so curiously examined, you might find it
inconvenient to reply.'

'These are all set-offs,' said the young man. 'You know very well that a
man is a man, and a woman only a woman. That holds good all over, up and
down. I ask you a question, I ask it again, and here I stand.' He drew
a mark and toed it.

'When you have studied liberal doctrines somewhat deeper,' said the
Prince, 'you will perhaps change your note. You are a man of false
weights and measures, my young friend. You have one scale for women,
another for men; one for princes, and one for farmer-folk. On the prince
who neglects his wife you can be most severe. But what of the lover who
insults his mistress? You use the name of love. I should think this
lady might very fairly ask to be delivered from love of such a nature.
For if I, a stranger, had been one-tenth part so gross and so
discourteous, you would most righteously have broke my head. It would
have been in your part, as lover, to protect h