They tried to pacify him, but it was in vain.  “Whoever strikes at marriage,” he cried;—­“whoever, either by word or act, undermines this, the foundation of all moral society, that man has to settle with me, and if I cannot become his master, I take care to settle myself out of his way.  Marriage is the beginning and the end of all culture.  It makes the savage mild; and the most cultivated has no better opportunity for displaying his gentleness.  Indissoluble it must be, because it brings so much happiness that what small exceptional unhappiness it may bring counts for nothing in the balance.  And what do men mean by talking of unhappiness?  Impatience it is which from time to time comes over them, and then they fancy themselves unhappy.  Let them wait till the moment is gone by, and then they will bless their good fortune that what has stood so long continues standing.  There never can be any adequate ground for separation.  The condition of man is pitched so high, in its joys and in its sorrows, that the sum which two married people owe to each other defies calculation.  It is an infinite debt, which can only be discharged through all eternity.

“Its annoyances marriage may often have; I can well believe that, and it is as it should be.  We are all married to our consciences, and there are times when we should be glad to be divorced from them; mine gives me more annoyance than ever a man or a woman can give.”

All this he poured out with the greatest vehemence:  he would very likely have gone on speaking longer, had not the sound of the postilions’ horns given notice of the arrival of the visitors, who, as if on a concerted arrangement, drove into the castle-court from opposite sides at the same moment.  Mittler slipped away as their host hastened to receive them, and desiring that his horse might be brought out immediately, rode angrily off.

CHAPTER X

The visitors were welcomed and brought in.  They were delighted to find themselves again in the same house and in the same rooms where in early times they had passed many happy days, but which they had not seen for a long time.  Their friends too were very glad to see them.  The Count and the Baroness had both those tall fine figures which please in middle life almost better than in youth.  If something of the first bloom had faded off them, yet there was an air in their appearance which was always irresistibly attractive.  Their manners too were thoroughly charming.  Their free way of taking hold of life and dealing with it, their happy humor, and apparent easy unembarrassment, communicated itself at once to the rest; and a lighter atmosphere hung about the whole party, without their having observed it stealing on them.