Page:Poet Lore, volume 21, 1910.djvu/467

 some sense and pity.

Matoush.—Crying and sobbing will not better it. Come, leave us here alone. In a while I will have to go to say morning Mass, and I should like to speak to him alone. (He escorts her away. Returning.) I did not want to speak about it before your mother. She would not understand. (Sincerely.) But I understand you, my boy (warmly). Tell me, do I not understand you?

Petr (with painful gratitude).—Uncle Matoush (takes him by the hand and draws him toward himself on the bench).—So, it is true?

Petr (looks into his eyes and understands).—It is, uncle, it is. But it would have happened anyway

Matoush.—Anyway, you say? Yes, yes, but so much worse that it has happened now. Because now that question of mine must be answered. (Seriously). How old will you be when you will be able to marry her?

Petr (is silent).

Matoush.—And how old will she be? You are almost of the same age. Have you thought of that also?

Petr.—About that I have not thought at all.

Matoush.—See, see, you have not thought of it, and you are ready to throw away your entire life.

Petr.—But I feel so strong, so strong

Matoush.—Those are words, my dear boy. You should have felt so before. You should have felt so at the time when I asked you if you felt strong enough to comply with your mother’s wishes.

Petr.—At that time I did not know anybody—I knew no one except maminka and you.

Matoush.—And what if you will never know any one else? And soon neither mother nor myself, and remain here all alone, like a barren rock amidst seas. Petr, I do not force you. I will not sorrow, like your mother. I will gladly assist you, but I am old. I beg you, my dear fellow, think it over carefully, lest all these new sacrifices are in vain. There are moments in our lives when we have no right to decide or choose what course we would take. When we must not think of our happiness or our future, but when the errors of our bygone years commandingly point the inevitable way they have formed for us. (The churchbell begins to toll.) They are already ringing for early Mass—I’ll have to go. And this is the law of life. I would this morning rather minister to the wants