"
"But they are not to her," cried Willibald suddenly, and with so
sorrowful a face that Hartmut gazed at him dumbfounded. He believed that
his friend was out of his mind, and Willibald's next statement quite
overpowered him, without weakening this suspicion.
"I had a quarrel early this morning with an insolent fellow who
attempted to insult a lady, Fraeulein Marietta Volkmar of the Court
theatre of this city. I struck him to the ground and I'd do it again if
I had an opportunity;--him, or any one else who came near Fraeulein
Volkmar."
He had grown so excited, and rose, as he spoke, with such a threatening
air, that Hartmut seized him by the arm and held him fast.
"Well, I've no intention of going near her, so you needn't shake your
fist at me, old boy. But what have you to do with the opera singer,
Marietta Volkmar, who has always posed as a very mirror of virtue?"
"Hartmut, have a care. You must speak respectfully of this lady to me.
To make a long story short, this Count Westerburg has challenged me, and
we're going to have a shot at one another, and I sincerely hope I'll
leave him with a remembrance he won't soon forget."
"Well, you're making very fair progress in your romance, I must say,"
Hartmut answered with growing astonishment. "You've been in town two
days, have had a quarrel with a stranger, who has demanded satisfaction,
are the knight and protector of a young singer on whose account you are
going to fight a duel.
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