"What is the matter with you? What business have you with the Bible?" the Judge asks the plaintiff in the same hard and severe tone. Since, with the courage of despair, she has been able to give utterance to her distress, her anxiety has decreased so that she can answer, "He must not take the oath!" "Be silent, and put back the book!" demands the Judge. She does not obey, but holds the book tightly with both hands. "He cannot take the oath!" she cries fiercely. "Are you so determined to win your suit?" asks the Judge sharply. "I want to withdraw the suit," she shrieks in a high, shrill voice. "I don't want to force him to swear." "What are you shrieking about?" demands the Judge. "Have you lost your senses?" She catches her breath suddenly and tries to control herself. She hears herself how she is shrieking. The Judge will think she has gone mad if she cannot say what she would say calmly. She struggles with herself again to get control of her voice, and this time she succeeds. She says slowly, earnestly, and clearly, as she looks the Judge in the face: "I wish to withdraw the suit. He is the father of the child. I am still fond of him. I don't wish him to swear falsely." She stands erect and resolute, facing the Judges' table, all the while looking the Judge square in the face. He sits with both hands resting on the table and for a long while does not take his eyes off from her. While the Judge is looking at her, a great change comes over him. All the ennui and displeasure in his face vanishes, and the large, rough-hewn visage becomes beautiful with the most beautiful emotion. "Ah, see!" he thinks--"Ah, see! such is the mettle of my people. I shall not be vexed at them when there is so much love and godliness even in one of the humblest." Suddenly the Judge feels his eyes fill up with tears; then he pulls himself together, almost ashamed, and casts a hasty glance about him. He sees that the clerks and bailiffs and the whole long row of jurymen are leaning forward and looking at the girl who stands before the Judges' table with the Bible hugged close to her. And he sees a light in their faces, as though they had seen something very beautiful, which had made them happy all the way into their souls. Then the Judge casts a glance over the spectators, and he sees that they all breathe a quick sigh of relief, as if they had just heard what they had longed above everything to hear. Finally, the Judge looks at the defendant. Now it is _he_ who stands with lowered head and looks at the floor. The Judge turns once more to the poor girl. "It shall be as you wish," he says. "The case shall be stricken from the Calendar,"--this to the recording clerk. The defendant makes a move, as though he wished to interpose an objection. "Well, what now?" the Judge bellows at him. "Have you anything against it?" The defendant's head hangs lower and lower, and he says, almost inaudibly, "Oh, no, I dare say it is best to let it go that way."