--But, with your leave, sir, I shall fill my pipe
with your tobacco; mine went out a little while ago."
This last sentence the burgher uttered while the student Anselmus was
about putting up his pipe and pouch; and now the burgher slowly and
deliberately cleaned his pipe, and began as slowly to fill it. Several
burgher girls had come up; they were speaking secretly with the woman
and one another, and tittering as they looked at Anselmus. The student
felt as if he were standing on prickly thorns and burning needles. No
sooner had he recovered his pipe and tobacco-pouch, than he darted off
at the height of his speed.
All the strange things he had seen were clean gone from his memory; he
simply recollected having babbled all manner of foolish stuff beneath
the elder-tree. This was the more shocking to him, as he entertained
from of old an inward horror against all soliloquists. It is Satan
that chatters out of them, said his Rector; and Anselmus shared
honestly his belief. To be regarded as a _Candidatus Theologiae_,
overtaken with drink on Ascension-day! The thought was intolerable.
He was just about turning up the Poplar Alley, by the Kosel Garden,
when a voice behind him called out: "Herr Anselmus! Herr Anselmus!
for the love of Heaven, whither are you running in such haste?" The
student paused, as if rooted to the ground; for he was convinced that
now some new mischance would befall him.
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