She, whose heart had remained free from jealousy of the woman who stood
between her and the man she loved, like a solid bulwark erected by Fate
itself, was now suddenly overmastered by this passion.

Yet she did not turn against the person to whom Lienhard belonged, as he
did to the city, or to his own family, and who was united to him by the
will of Heaven, but against the mysterious young creature at his side,
who changed with every passing moment.

This child--no, this maiden--must be a being of some special nature.
Like the sirens of whom she had heard, she possessed the mysterious,
enviable power of conquering the iron resistance of even the strongest
man.

Like a flash of lightning, Kuni, whose kind heart cherished resentment
against few and wished no one any evil, suddenly felt an ardent desire to
drive the little witch from Lienhard's side, even by force, if necessary.
Had she held a thunderbolt instead of a balance pole, she would gladly
have struck down the treacherous child from her height--not only because
this enchantress had so quickly won that for which she had vainly
yearned, alas! how long, but because it pierced her very heart to see
Frau Katharina's happiness clouded, nay, perhaps destroyed. A bitterness
usually alien to her light, gay nature had taken possession of her, as,
with the last glance she cast at Lienhard, she saw him bend low over the
child and, with fiery ardour, whisper something which transformed the
delicate pink flush in her cheeks to the hue of the poppy.

Yes, the ropedancer was jealous of the laurel-crowned child. She, who
cared so little for law and duty, virtue and morality, now felt offended,
wounded, tortured by Lienhard's conduct. But there was no time to ponder