Take the gold and silver, and
give me the maiden! Her neck's silver, and her hair gold. Ah! and her
cheeks roses, and her mouth-say no more! I'm half thinking Werner, the
hungry animal, has cast wolf's eyes on her. They say he spoke of her
last night. Don't let him thwart me. Thunderblast him! I owe him a
grudge. He's beginning to forget my plan o' life.'
A flight of pigeons across the blue top of the street abstracted the
Thier from these reflections. He gaped after them in despair, and fell
to stretching and shaking himself, rattling his lungs with loud reports.
As he threw his eyes round again, they encountered those of a monk
opposite fastened on him in penetrating silence. The Thier hated monks
as a wild beast shuns fire; but now even a monk was welcome.
'Halloo!' he sung out.
The monk crossed over to him.
'Friend!' said he, 'weariness is teaching thee wantonness. Wilt thou
take service for a night's work, where the danger is little, the reward
lasting?'
'As for that,' replied the Thier, 'danger comes to me like greenwood to
the deer, and good pay never yet was given in promises. But I'm bound
for the next hour to womankind within there. They're my masters; as
they've been of tough fellows before me.'
'I will seek them, and win their consent,' said the monk, and so left
him.
'Quick dealing!' thought the Thier, and grew brisker.
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