That depends on temperament. Some work their way through, and come out again into the light of day after three or four years. They’re a bit thin and pale, but you can’t blame them for that. I belong to them. Others lie down in the middle of the wood. They only want to rest, but they very seldom get up again. One of my own friends has drunk his beer under the shade of the “Lex Julia” for three years. He chose the place on account of the name. It recalls pleasant memories. Others get desperate and turn back. They are the biggest fools of all, for they’re only allowed out of one thicket on condition that they plunge straight into another. And there are some there that never come to an end at all! (_Aside._) What stuff a fellow will talk, when he has something in his mind and can’t get it out! CLARA. Everybody is merry and jolly to-day. It must be the fine weather. SEC. Yes, in weather like this owls fall out of their nests, bats kill themselves, because they feel that the devil made them. The mole bores down into the earth till he loses his way and is stifled, unless he can eat through to the other side and come out in America! To-day every ear of corn puts out a double shoot, and every poppy goes twice as red as usual, if only for shame at not being so. Why should man remain behind? Is he to rob God of the one tribute that this world pays Him, a bright face and a clear eye, that reflects and glorifies all this splendour? Indeed, when I see these lazy-bones crawling out of their houses in the mornings with their brows all wrinkled, and glowering at heaven as if it were a sheet of blotting paper, I often think: “It’ll rain soon. God will have to let down His curtain of clouds; He’s bound to, so as not to be annoyed by such grimaces.” Such fellows ought to be prosecuted as thwarters of holidays and destroyers of harvests. How should you give thanks for life, except by living? Rejoice, bird! else you don’t deserve to have a throat! CLARA. That is true, so true. It makes me want to cry. SEC. I wasn’t saying it against you. I can understand your being a bit down this last week. I know your old man. But, God be praised, I can make you happy again and that’s what I’m here for. You’ll see your brother again to-night. People won’t point their fingers at him, but at those who threw him into prison. Does that earn me a kiss, a sisterly one, if it can’t be any other? Or should we play blind-man’s-buff for it? If I don’t catch you in ten minutes, I’ll go without and take a slap on the cheek into the bargain. CLARA (_to herself_). I feel as if I’d suddenly grown a thousand years old and time had stopped still over my head. I can’t go back and I can’t go forward. Oh, this immovable sunshine and all the gaiety about me! SEC.