The Chamberlain.
I regard my position as my father before me regarded his. No one would ever have ventured to treat him so.
Fieldbo.
Your father died about the year 1830.
The Chamberlain.
Oh, yes; many a barrier has broken down since that time. But, after all, it's my own fault. I have mixed myself up too much with these good people. So now I must be content to have my name coupled with Anders Lundestad's!
Fieldbo.
Well, frankly, I see no disgrace in that.
The Chamberlain.
Oh, you know quite well what I mean. Of course I don't plume myself on rank, or titles, or anything of that sort. But what I hold in honour, and expect others to hold in honour, is the integrity handed down in our family from generation to generation. What I mean is that when a man like Lundestad goes into public life, he cannot keep his character and his conduct entirely free from stain. In the general mud-throwing, he is sure to find himself bespattered. But they might leave me in peace; I stand outside their parties.
Fieldbo.
Not so entirely, Chamberlain; at least you were delighted so long as you thought it was Monsen that was attacked.
