Montanus.  The other proof is taken from the eclipse of the sun and moon.

Jesper.  Just hear that!  Now, he is stark mad.

Montanus.  What do you really suppose an eclipse to be?

Jesper.  Eclipses are certain signs which are placed upon the sun and moon when some misfortune is going to happen on the earth,—­a thing I can prove from my own experience:  when my wife had a miscarriage three years ago, and when my daughter Gertrude died, both times there were eclipses just before.

Montanus.  Oh, such nonsense will drive me mad.

Jeronimus, The bailiff is right, for an eclipse never occurs unless it is a warning of something.  When the last eclipse happened, everything seemed to be well, but that didn’t last long; for a fortnight afterwards we got news from Copenhagen that six candidates for degrees were rejected at one time, all persons belonging to the gentry, and two of them the sons of deacons.  If a man doesn’t hear of misfortune at one place after such an eclipse, he hears of it at another.

Montanus.  That is true enough, for no day passes that some misfortune does not happen somewhere in the world.  But as far as these persons you mentioned are concerned, they have no need to blame the eclipse, for if they had studied more, they would have passed.

Jeronimus.  What is an eclipse of the moon, then?

Montanus.  It is nothing other than the earth’s shadow, which deprives the moon of the sunlight, and since the shadow is round, we thereby see that the earth is round, too.  It all happens in a natural way, for eclipses can be predicted, and therefore it is folly to say that such are prophetic warnings of misfortune.

Jeronimus.  Oh, Mr. Bailiff, I feel ill.  Unlucky was the far on which your parents allowed you to become a scholar.

Jesper.  Yes, he comes mighty near to being an atheist.  I must bring him and Peer the deacon together again.  There is a man who speaks with force.  He will persuade you yet, in either Latin or Greek, that the earth, thank God, is as flat as my hand.  But here comes Madame Jeronimus with her daughter.

SCENE 7

(Enter Magdelone and Lisbed.)

Magdelone.  Oh, my dear son-in-law, it is a delight to me to see you back again in good health.

Lisbed. Oh, my darling, let me hug you.

Jeronimus.  Slowly, slowly, my child, not so ardently.

Lisbed. May I not hug my sweetheart when I haven’t seen him for years?

Jeronimus.  Keep away from him, I tell you, or else you will get a beating.

Lisbed (weeping).  I know one thing, that we have been publicly betrothed.

Jeronimus.  That is true enough, but since that time something has occurred to hinder. (Lisbed weeps.) You must know, my child, that when he became engaged to you he was an honest man and a good Christian.  But now he is a heretic and a fanatic, who ought to be introduced to the Litany rather than into our family.