Who, with limited means,-especially women and maidens, Think of nothing but aping the ways of the great and the wealthy, You should therefore bless your son's disposition so peaceful, And the like-minded wife whom we soon may expect him to marry." Thus he spoke. At that moment the mother and son stood before them. By the hand she lead him and placed him in front of her husband: "Father," she said, "how often have we, when talking together, Thought of that joyful day in the future, when Hermann, selecting After long waiting his bride, at length would make us both happy! All kinds of projects we form'd; designing first one, then another Girl as his wife, as we talk'd in the manner that parents delight in. Now the day has arrived; and now has his bride beer conducted Hither and shown him by Heaven; his heart at length has decided. Were we not always saying that he should choose for himself, and Were you not lately wishing that he might feel for a maiden Warm and heart-felt emotions? And now has arrived the right moment! Yes, he has felt and has chosen, and like a man has decided. That fair maiden it is, the Stranger whom he encounter’d. Give her him; else he'll remain-he has sworn it-unmarried for ever. And the son added himself:-" My father, O give her! My heart has Chosen purely and truly; she'll make you an excellent daughter." But the father was silent. Then suddenly rose the good pastor, And address'd him as follows: "One single moment's decisive Both of the life of a man, and of the whole of his Future. After lengthen'd reflection, each resolution made by him. Is but the work of a moment; the prudent alone seized the right one. Nothing more dangerous is, in making a choice, than revolving First this point and then that, and so confusing the feelings. Pure is Hermann's mind; from his youth I have known him; he never, Even in boyhood, was wont to extend his hand hither and thither. What he desired was suitable to him; he held to it firmly. Be not astonish'd and scared, because there appears on a sudden What you so long have desired. 'Tis true the appear ance at present Bears not the shape of the wish, as you in your mind had conceived it. For our wishes conceal the thing that we wished for; our gifts too Come from above upon us, each clad in its own proper figure Do not now mistake the maiden who has succeeded First in touching the heart of your good wise son, whom you love so. Happy is he who is able to clasp the hand of his first love, And whose dearest wish is not doom'd to pine in his Yes, I can see by his face, already his fate is decided; All the fairest years of his life will be changed into sor row." Then in prudent fashion the druggist, who long had been wanting 66 His opinion to give, rejoin'd in the following manner:This is just a case when the middle course is the wisest! Hasten slowly,' you know, was the motto of Cæsar I am always ready to be of use to my neighbors, Let me then depart; I fain would prove her, that maiden, And will examine the people 'mongst whom she lives, and who know her. I am not soon deceived; I know how to rate their opin ions." Then forthwith replied the son, with eagerness speaking: "Do_so, neighbor, and go, and make your inquiries. However, I should greatly prefer that our friend, the pastor, went with you; Two such excellent men are witnesses none can find fault with. O, my father! the maiden no vagabond is, I assure you, No mere adventurer, wand'ring about all over the country, And deceiving the inexperienced youths with her cunning; No! the harsh destiny link'd with this war, so destructive of all things, Which is destroying the world, and already has wholly uprooted Many a time-honor'd fabric, has driven the poor thing to exile. Are not brave men of noble birth now wand'ring in mis'ry? Princes are fleeing disguised, and monarchs in banish ment living. Ah, and she also herself, the best of her sisters, is driven Out of her native land; but her own misfortunes for getting, Others she seeks to console, and, though helpless, is also most helpful. Great are the woes and distress which over the earth's face are brooding, But may happiness not be evoked from out of this sorrow? May not I, in the arms of my bride, the wife I have chosen, Even rejoice at the war, as you at the great conflagration?" Then replied the father, and open'd his mouth with importance: Strangely indeed, my son, has your tongue been suddenly loosen'd, Which for years has stuck in your mouth, and moved there but rarely! I to-day must experience that which threatens each father: How the ardent will of a son a too-gentle mother. Willingly favors, whilst each neighbor is ready to back him, Only provided it be at the cost of a father or husband! But what use would it be to resist so many together? For I see that defiance and tears will otherwise greet me. Go and prove her, and in God's name then hasten to bring her Home as my daughter; if not, he must think no more of the maiden." Thus spake the father. The son exclaim'd with jubilant gesture: "Ere the ev'ning arrives, you shall have the dearest of daughters, Such as the man desires whose bosom is govern'd by prudence; And I venture to think the good creature is fortunate also. Yes, she will ever be grateful that I her father and mother Have restored her in you, as sensible children would wish it. But I will loiter no longer; I'll straightway harness the horses, And conduct our friends on the traces of her whom I love so. Leave the men to themselves and their own intuitive wisdom, And be guided alone by their decision,-I swear it,And not see the maiden again, until she my own is.' Then he left the house; meanwhile the others were eagerly Settling many a point, and the weighty matter debating. Hermann sped to the stable forthwith, where the spirited stallions Tranquilly stood and with eagerness swallow'd the pure oats before them, And the well-dried hay, which was cut from the best of their meadows. Then in eager haste in their mouths the shining bits placed he, Quickly drew the harness through the well-plated buckles. And then fasten'd the long broad reins in proper posi tion, Led the horses out in the yard, where already the carriage, Easily moved along by its pole, had been push'd by the servant Then they restrain'd the impetuous strength of the fastmoving horses, Fastening both with neat-looking ropes to the bar of the carriage. Hermann seized his whip, took his seat, and drove to the gateway. When in the roomy carriage his friends had taken their places, Swiftly he drove away, and left the pavement behind them, Left behind the walls of the town and the clean-looking towers. Thus sped Hermann along, till he reach'd the familiar highway, Not delaying a moment, and galloping uphill and downhill. |