Of all this the combmakers really did not want to hear just then, but on the contrary insisted that Zues should select one of them and tell him to remain in Seldwyla, and each one of them in saying so only thought of himself. She, however, was careful to avoid a premature choice. On the contrary, she told them bluntly that they must obey her on pain of forfeiting her friendship forever. At once Jobst, the oldest of the three, skipped off, right into the house of their ex-master, and to perceive that and follow him in haste, was the work of an instant, since they were afraid that he might be planning something against them on the sly, and thus the trio acted all day long, whisking about like falling stars, hither and thither. They hated each other like three spiders in one web. Half the town witnessed this queer spectacle, observing the three strangely excited combmakers, they who until that day had always been so orderly and quiet. The ancient people of the town could not but feel that something evil, something tragic was underway, and they would nod and whisper to one another of their fears. Towards nightfall, however, the combmakers became tired and spent, without having reached any definite conclusion, and in that mood they retired and stretched out their limbs in the old bed, with chattering teeth and half-sick with impotent rage. One by one they crept beneath the covering, and there they lay, as though felled by the hand of death itself, with thoughts in turmoil and confusion, until at last sleep came like balm for their uproarious minds.