The Poems of Goethe by Johann Wolfgang von Goethe (ebook reader with highlight function txt) 📖

to what e'er for the infant is needed.' Then she saluted me too, her thanks most heartily giving, Drove the oxen, the waggon went on. I lingerd behind them, Holding my horses rein'd back, divided between two opinions, Whether to hasten ahead, reach the village, the viands distribute 'Mongst the rest of the people, or give them forthwith to the maiden, So that she might herself divide them amongst them with prudence Soon I made up my mind, and follow'd after her softly, Overtook her without delay, and said to her quickly 'Maiden, it was not linen alone that my mother provided And in the carriage placed, as clothing to give to the naked, But she added meat, and many an excellent drink too; And I have got quite a stock stow'd away in the boot of the carriage. Well, I have taken a fancy the rest of the gifts to deposit In your hands, and thus fulfil to the best my commission; You will divide them with prudence, whilst I my fate am obeying.' Then the maiden replied:--'With faithfulness I will distribute All your gifts, and the needy shall surely rejoice at your bounty.' Thus she spake, and I hastily open'd the boot of the carriage, Took out the hams (full heavy they were) and took out the bread-stuffs, Flasks of wine and beer, and handed the whole of them over. Gladly would I have given her more, but empty the boot was. Straightway she pack'd them away at the feet of the patient, and forthwith Started again, whilst I hasten'd back to the town with my horses."

Then when Hermann had ended his story, the garrulous neighbour Open'd his mouth and exclaim'd:--"I only deem the man happy Who lives alone in his house in these days of flight and confusion, Who has neither wife nor children cringing beside him I feel happy at present; I hate the title of father; Care of children and wife in these days would be a sad drawback. Often have I bethought me of flight, and have gather'd together All that I deem most precious, the antique gold and the jewels Worn by my late dear mother, not one of which has been sold yet. Much indeed is left out, that is not so easily carried. Even the herbs and the roots, collected with plenty of trouble, I should he sorry to lose, though little in value they may be. If the dispenser remains, I shall leave my house in good spirits If my ready money is saved, and my body, why truly All is saved, for a bachelor easily flies when 'tis needed."

"Neighbour," rejoin'd forthwith young Hermann, with emphasis speaking "Altogether I differ, and greatly blame your opinions. Can that man be deem'd worthy, who both in good and ill fortune Thinks alone of himself, and knows not the secret of sharing Sorrows and joys with others, and feels no longing to do so? I could more easily now than before determine to marry Many an excellent maiden needs a husband's protection, Many a man a cheerful wife, when sorrow's before him." Smilingly said then the father:--"I'm pleas'd to hear what you're saying, Words of such wisdom have seldom been utter'd by you in my presence.

Then his good mother broke in, in her turn, with vivacity speaking "Son, you are certainly right. We parents set the example. 'Twas not in time of pleasure that we made choice of each other, And 'twas the saddest of hours, that knitted us closely together. Monday morning,--how well I remember! the very day after That most terrible fire occurr'd which burnt down the borough, Twenty years ago now; the day, like to-day, was a Sunday, Hot and dry was the weather, and little available water. All the inhabitants, clothed in their festival garments, were walking, Scatter'd about in the inns and the mills of the neighbouring hamlets. At one end of the town the fire broke out, and the flames ran Hastily all through the streets, impell'd by the draught they created. And the barns were consumed, where all the rich harvest was gather'd And all the streets as far as the market; the dwelling house also Of my father hard by was destroy'd, as likewise was this one. Little indeed could we save; I sat the sorrowful night through On the green of the town, protecting the beds and the boxes. Finally sleep overtook me, and when by the cool breeze of morning Which dies away when the sun arises I was awaken'd, Saw I the smoke and the glow, and the half-consumed walls and the chimneys. Then my heart was sorely afflicted; but soon in his glory Rose the sun more brilliant than ever, my spirits reviving. Then in haste I arose, impell'd the site to revisit Where our dwelling had stood, to see if the chickens were living Which I especially loved; for childlike I still was by nature. But when over the ruins of courtyard and house I was climbing, Which still smoked, and saw my dwelling destroy'd and deserted, You came up on the other side, the ruins exploring. You had a horse shut up in his stall; the still-glowing rafters Over it lay, and rubbish, and nought could be seen of the creature. Over against each other we stood, in doubt and in sorrow, For the wall had fallen which used to sever our courtyards; And you grasp'd my hand, addressing me softly as follows 'Lizzy, what here are you doing? Away! Your soles you are burning, For the rubbish is hot, and is scorching my boots which are thicker.' Then you lifted me up, and carried me off through your courtyard. There still stood the gateway before the house, with its arch'd roof, Just as it now is standing, the only thing left remaining. And you sat me down and kiss'd me, and I tried to stop you, But you presently said, with kindly words full of meaning 'See, my house is destroy'd! Stop here and help me to build it, I in return will help to rebuild the house of your father.' I understood you not, till you sent to my father your mother, And ere long our marriage fulfilid the troth we soon plighted. Still to this day I remember with pleasure the half-consumed rafters, Still do I see the sun in all his majesty rising, For on that day I gain'd my husband; the son of my youth too Gained I during that earliest time of the wild desolation. Therefore commend I you, Hermann, for having with confidence guileless Turn'd towards marriage your thoughts in such a period of mourning, And for daring to woo in war and over the ruins.--"

Then the father straightway replied, with eagerness speaking:-- "Sensible is your opinion, and true is also the story Which you have told us, good mother, for so did ev'rything happen. But what is better is better. 'Tis not the fortune of all men All their life and existence to find decided beforehand; All are not doom'd to such troubles as we and others have suffer'd. O, how happy is he whose careful father and mother Have a house ready to give him, which he can successfully manage! All beginnings are hard, and most so the landlords profession. Numberless things a man must have, and ev'rything daily Dearer becomes, so he needs to scrape together more money. So I am hoping that you, dear Hermann, will shortly be bringing Home to us a bride possessing an excellent dowry, For a worthy husband deserves a girl who is wealthy, And 'tis a capital thing for the wish'd-for wife to bring with her Plenty of suitable articles stow'd in her baskets and boxes. Not in vain for years does the mother prepare for her daughter Stocks of all kinds of linen, both finest and strongest in texture; Not in vain do god-parents give them presents of silver, Or the father lay by in his desk a few pieces of money. For she hereafter will gladden, with all her goods and possessions, That happy youth who is destined from out of all others to choose her. Yes! I know how pleasant it makes a house for a young wife, When she finds her own property placed in the rooms and the kitchen, And when she herself has cover'd the bed and the table. Only well-to-do brides should be seen in a house, I consider, For a poor one is sure at last to be scorn'd by her husband, And he'll deem her a jade who as jade first appear'd with her bundle. Men are always unjust, but moments of love are but transient. Yes, my Hermann, you greatly would cheer the old age of your father If you soon would bring home a daughter-in-law to console me, Out of the neighbourhood too,--yes, out of yon dwelling, the green one! Rich is the man, in truth his trade and his manufactures Make him daily richer, for when does a merchant not prosper? He has only three daughters; the whole of his wealth they'll inherit. True the eldest's already engaged; but then there's the second, And the third, who still (not for long) may be had for the asking. Had I been in your place, I should not till this time have waited; Bring home one of the girls, as I brought your mother before you.

Then, with modesty, answer'd the son his impetuous father "Truly my wish was, like yours, to marry one of the daughters Of our neighbour. We all, in fact, were brought up together, Sported in youthful days near the fountain adjoining the market, And from the rudeness of boys I often managed to save them. But those days have long pass'd the maidens grew up, and with reason Stop now at home and avoid the rougher pastimes of childhood. Well brought up with a vengeance they are! To please you, I sometimes Went to visit them, just for the sake of olden acquaintance But I was never much pleased at holding intercourse with them, For they were always finding fault, and I had to bear it First my coat was too long, the cloth too coarse, and the colour Far too common, my hair was cut and curl'd very badly. I at last was thinking of dressing myself like the shop-boys, Who are accustom'd on Sundays to show off their persons up yonder, And round whose coats in summer half-silken tatters are hanging. But ere long I discover'd they only intended to fool me This was very annoying, my pride was offended, but more still Felt I deeply wounded that they so mistook the good feelings Which I cherish'd towards them, especially Minnie, the youngest. Well, I went last Easter, politely to pay them a visit, And I wore the new coat now hanging up in the closet, And was frizzled and curld, like all the rest of the youngsters. When I enter'd, they titter'd; but that didn't very much matter. Minnie sat at the piano, the father was present amongst them, Pleased with his daughter's singing, and quite in a jocular humour. Little could I understand of the words in the song she was singing, But I constantly heard of Pamina, and then of Tamino,*

(* Characters In Mozart's Zauberflote.) And I fain would express my opinion; so when she had ended, I ask'd questions respecting the text, and who were the persons. All were silent and smiled; but presently answer'd the father 'Did you e'er happen, my friend, to hear of Eve or of Adam?' Then no longer restrain'd they themselves, the girls burst out laughing, All the boys laugh'd loudly, the old man's sides appear'd splitting. In my confusion I let my hat fall down, and the titt'ring Lasted all