There's just the rub! You don't do it purposely. But, confound it! Don't make such a fuss over the girl, do you hear? If you go on this way, she will have you in her pocket within a month. The women always want to rule; all their thoughts and aspirations tend to that end, without being themselves aware of it. And when they finally do rule, they are unhappy in spite of it; I know more than one instance of this. I only look inside the door, and I know for certain what sort of figure the man cuts. I only look at the cattle. If the dog or the cat is not well trained, neither are the children; and the wife still less. Hey? My wife does not yet know me as far as that here [_points to his heart_] is concerned. And if she should ever get hold of that secret--then good-by, authority! The wife may be an angel, but the man must act like a bear. And especially a huntsman. That's part of the business, just as much as the moustache and the green coat. ROBERT. But could it not be possible that-- FORESTER (_eagerly_). No, Robert. Once and for all, no! There is no way out of it. Either he trains her, or she trains him.--For example; let me give you only one instance how to go about it. My wife cannot see any human being suffer; now the poor wretches come in troops, and I should like to know what is to come of it all, if I were to praise her to her face. Therefore I grumble and swear like a trooper, but at the same time I gradually withdraw, so that she has full liberty. And when I notice that she is through, then I come along again, as if by accident, and keep on grumbling and swearing. Then people say: "The Hereditary Forester is harder on the poor than the devil himself, but his wife and his girl, they are angels from heaven." And they say this so that I should hear it; and hear it I do. But I pretend not to notice it, and laugh in my sleeve; and to keep up appearances I bluster all the more.--It seems the guests are arriving. Robert, my wife, and my girl, my Mary--if I at some time--you understand me, Robert. Give me your hand. God is looking down on us. [_Wipes his eyes_.] The deuce! Confound it! Don't let the cat out of the bag to the women--and you rule her as it ought to be. [_He turns around to hide his emotion, with gestures expressive of his vexation that he cannot control himself. At the door he encounters the following_]: SCENE V _The same_. STEIN; MÖLLER; WILKENS; MARY; SOPHY. _They exchange greetings with the_ FORESTER. STEIN. What's your hurry, old man? Have you already had a row with him? FORESTER. Yes. I have given the young gentleman a lecture on the subject of women-folks. STEIN. High treason against the majesty of petticoat-government? And you permit that, madam? SOPHY. A little more, a little less--when one has to put up with so much! FORESTER.