or
wherever they looked they met only friendly glances. This heart then
embraced the whole world, and beat so quickly and joyously! I often did
not know what to do with myself from sheer mirth and vivacity, and it
seemed as if I must burst into a thousand pieces like an over-loaded
firelock, only instead of scattering far and wide, mount straight up to
Heaven. Those days were so happy, and yet so sad--I felt it ten times as
much in Delft, when you were kind to me. And now, now? I still have
wings, I still might fly, but here I creep like a snail--because it is
your will."

"It is not my wish," replied Maria. "You are dear to me, that I may be
permitted to confess--and to see you thus fills me with grief. But
now--if I am dear to you, and I know you care for me--cease to torture me
so cruelly. You are dear to me. I have said it, and it must be spoken,
that everything may be clearly understood between us. You are dear to me,
like the beautiful by-gone days of my youth, like pleasant dreams, like a
noble song, in which we take delight, and which refreshes our souls,
whenever we hear or remember it--but more you are not, more you can never
be. You are dear to me, and I wish you to remain so, but that you can
only do by not breaking the oath you have sworn."

"Sworn?" asked Georg. "Sworn?"

"Yes, sworn," interrupted Maria, checking her steps. "On Peter's breast,
on the morning of his birthday--after the singing. You remember it well.
At the time you took a solemn vow; I know it, know it no less surely,
than that I myself swore faith to my husband at the altar. If you can
give me the lie, do so."

Georg shook his head, and answered with increasing warmth:

"You read my soul. Our hearts know each other like two faithful friends,
as the earth knows her moon, the moon her earth. What is one without the
other? Why must they be separated? Did you ever walk along a forest path?
The tracks of two wheels run side by side and never touch. The axle holds
them asunder, as our oath parts us."

"Say rather--our honor."

"As our honor parts us. But often in the woods we find a place where the
road ends in a field or hill, and there the tracks cross and intersect
each other, and in this hour I feel that my path has come to an end. I
can go no farther, I cannot, or the horses will plunge into the thicket
and the vehicle be shattered on the roots and stones."

"And honor with it. Not a word more. Let us walk faster. See the lights
i