[FORESTER walks up and down, and whistles.]

PASTOR.

Thus far my message, old friend; and now—­

FORESTER (stops in front of the pastor).

For what, sir?  Does he think of buying my honor with it?  Sir, my honor is not to be bought with money.

[Walks up and down, and whistles.]

PASTOR.

But, queer old friend—­

WILKENS.

Yes, if he would only listen to one!

FORESTER (as before).

Is that pension to be given from charity?  I need no charity.  I can work.  I will have nothing gratis.  I accept no alms.  I know he cannot dismiss me, if I have not been unfaithful.  That I know from several instances—­for example, hunter Rupert in Erdmansgruen.  If I allowed myself to be dismissed without protest, it would be tantamount to a confession that I were dishonest.  Nothing could be proved against Rupert, and he remained in his position.  And who will employ a man that has been dismissed?  Sir, from my father and grandfather I have inherited my honor, and I owe it to my children and children’s children.  Before me my father occupied this post, and my grandfather before my father.  Throughout the whole valley people call me the Hereditary Forester.  I am the first of my race to be dismissed.  Go out into my forest, sir, and if it is not a sight to gladden your soul—­Sir, I have planted the forest as far as the church-yard.  There my father and grandfather lie buried, and upon their tombstones you may read their masters’ testimony:  “They were honorable men and faithful servants.”  They are resting under green pine trees, as behooves huntsmen.  Sir, and if my grandchild should ever come there and ask:  “But why is he who planted the pines not resting under them?  Why have we no business there?  Was he a scoundrel, that his master had the right to dismiss him?” And when they are looking for my grave, and find it behind the church-yard wall?  Sir, if you can live without your honor, it is well for you—­or, rather, it is wicked of you.  But you see, sir, for me there is only one choice:  either by the side of my father and grandfather under the pine trees—­or behind the church-yard wall.  Sir, I am forester here, or Mr. Stein would be obliged to proclaim publicly that he has treated me as only a scoundrel would treat a man.  My money I have spent for his forest.  I will take out nothing but the staff with which I shall go forth into the world to seek in my old age a new position.  But from me the disgrace must be removed, and to him it must ever remain attached.  I am within my right, and I will maintain it.  WILKENS.  Within your right?  Well!  What will you do with your right?  Right costs money.  Right is a plaything for the rich, as horses and carriages.  Well!  With your talk about right and wrong!  Your right, that is your obstinacy.  You will even go so far as to snatch the clothes from the bodies of your wife and children, just to keep your obstinacy warm.