his riches and rank might give him, and if he besought you with entreaties to give him your little Rosa?"
"I would shut doors and windows in his face, and I would triple bolts and bars," howled master Martin; "and I should tell him through the key-hole, Go farther, my fine lord; it is not for you that the roses in my garden bloom. My cellar and my ducats are very much to your taste, I am sure, and you will do my little daughter the honor to accept her into the bargain? March on, march on, my gallant!"
These words made the color mount into the face of the old nobleman. He leaned on the table, appeared to meditate a few instants, then he added, his eyes down, and in a grave voice, through which appeared, as if in spite of himself, a certain emotion—"Master Martin, you are inflexible in this affair; but let us learn your last word. I suppose that the young lord of whom I have just spoken to you, to be my son, and that I accompany him to you to sustain his demand; would you shut your door in our faces, and would you think that we were attracted by the charms of your cellar and your ducats?"
"Heaven forbid that I should ever have such an idea of you, my worthy lords," replied the cooper, "I would give you an honorable welcome, such as you merit; and I should put myself at the disposition of such respectable visitors. As for my daughter, I repeat to you———But, truly, I ask you, what is the use of killing time by solving such singular questions? We forget our filled glasses, in discussing things neither of the time, nor of our age. Leave here, I beg you, imagining sons-in-law and the future marriage of Rosa, and let us drink to the health of your son, who is said to be the most gallant youth of Nuremberg."
The two talkers touched glances with the counsellor Jacob Paumgartner, who had long listened to their conversation without putting in a word. Spangenberg added constrainedly—"Do not believe, master Martin, that all we have said is in the least serious; it is on my part pure pleasantry; for
