her all through the city on foot and throw her into prison."

The faithful soul sobbed aloud and covered her face with her hands.
Terror fell upon them all; Joanna left the viridarium in speechless
dismay, and Martina exclaimed:

"What a horrible, vile country! Good God, they are even falling on us
women. Children, children--give me a seat, I feel quite ill.--In prison!
that beautiful, matchless creature dragged through the streets to prison.
If the warrant is all right she must go--she must! Not an angel from
heaven could save her. But that she should be marched through the town,
that noble and splendid creature, as if she were a common thief--it is
not to be borne. So much as one woman can do for another at any rate
shall be done, so long as I am here to stand on two feet!--Katharina,
child, do not you understand? Why do you stand gaping at me
as if I were a feathered ape? What do your fat horses eat oats for?
What, you do not understand me yet? Be off at once, this minute, and
have the horses put in the large closed chariot in which I came here, and
bring it to the door.--Ah! At last you see daylight; now, take to your
heels and fly!"

And she clapped her hands as if she were driving hens off a garden-bed;
Katharina had no alternative but to obey.

Martina then felt for her purse, and when she had found it she added
confidently:

"Thank God! I can talk to these villains! This is a language," and she
clinked the gold pieces, intelligible to all. "Come, where are the
rascals?"