zl, people rush out into the world as if somewhere, across
the Rhine or over the sea, fortune were running about the streets, and
crying to Tom, Dick, and Harry, "Good morning, Tom, Dick, and Harry; I
am glad to see you." Franzl,' your mother used to say, 'if a man can't
succeed at home, he won't succeed abroad. There are people enough
everywhere to pick up gold, if it does rain down, without waiting for
strangers to come and help them. What sort of a fortune can a man make
in the world? He can't do more than eat, drink, and sleep. Franzl,'
she'd say, 'my Lenz,'--excuse me, it was she that said it, not I,--'my
Lenz, like the rest of them, once got into his head that silly notion
of travelling; but where can he be better off than here? He is not
fitted for the wild world. One must be a robber, like Petrovitsch, a
good-for-nothing, stingy, greedy, cruel wretch.' I don't mean she said
that; she never said such a thing of anybody; but I say it and think
it. 'If my Lenz were to go abroad,' she said, 'he would give the shirt
off his body to the first beggar he met; any one could deceive him, he
is so kindhearted. Franzl,' says she, 'if the wandering spirit comes
over him when I am gone, Franzl,' says she, 'hang on to his coat, and
don't let him stir.' But, good gracious! I can't do that; how can I? I
can only speak; and I must speak, for she made me solemnly promise.
Just think how well off you are. You have a comfortable house, a good
living; you are loved and respected. If you go out into the world, who
will care for you? who will know you are Lenz of the Morgenhalde? When
you have no place to lay your head, and are obliged to spend the night
in the woods, you will think of your house at home and the seven
well-stuffed beds that are in it, and the plenty of furniture and
dishes, and the wine on tap in the cellar. Sha'n't I fetch you a glass?
I'll get you one in a minute. Always drink when you're out of spirits.
A thousand times your mother has said, 'Wine cheers a man up, and makes
him think of other things.'"

So saying, she hurried out of the room and into the cellar, soon
returning with a flagon in her hand. Lenz insisted on her bringing a
second glass, and filled it for her himself; but she was too modest to
do more than touch her lips to it till she had cleared off the table
and retreated with her wine into the kitchen.

Lenz worked on again industriously till evening. The wine or something
else made him restless, so