The Poems of Goethe, Johann Wolfgang von Goethe [e novels for free .txt] 📗

"Then in the minds of our men arose a terrible yearning That which was lost to avenge, and that which remain'd to defend still. All of them seized upon arms, lured on by the fugitives' hurry, By their pale faces, and by their shy, uncertain demeanour. There was heard the sound of alarm-bells unceasingly ringing, And the approach of danger restrain'd not their violent fury. Soon into weapons were turn'd the implements peaceful of tillage, And with dripping blood the scythe and the pitchfork were cover'd. Every foeman without distinction was ruthlessly slaughter'd, Fury was ev'rywhere raging, and artful, cowardly weakness. May I never again see men in such wretched confusion! Even the raging wild beast is a better object to gaze on. Ne'er let them speak of freedom, as if themselves they could govern! All the evil which Law has driven farback in the corner Seems to escape, as soon as the fetters which bound it are loosen'd."

"Excellent man," replied the pastor, with emphasis speaking "If you're mistaken in man, 'tis not for me to reprove you. Evil enough have you suffer'd indeed from his cruel proceedings! Would you but look back, however, on days so laden with sorrow, You would yourself confess how much that is good you have witness'd, Much that is excellent, which remains conceald in the bossom Till by danger 'tis stirr'd, and till necessity makes man Show himself as an angel, a tutelar God unto others."

Then with a smile replied the worthy old magistrate, saying "Your reminder is wise, like that which they give to the suff'rer Who has had his dwelling burnt down, that under the ruins, Gold and silver are lying, though melted and cover'd with ashes. Little, indeed, it may be, and yet that little is precious, And the poor man digs it up, and rejoices at finding the treasure. Gladly, therefore, I turn my thoughts to those few worthy actions Which my memory still is able to dwell on with pleasure. Yes, I will not deny it, I saw late foemen uniting So as to save the town from harm; I saw with devotion Parents, children and friends impossible actions attempting, Saw how the youth of a sudden became a man, how the greybeard Once more was young, how the child as a stripling appear'd in a moment. Aye, and the weaker sex, as people commonly call it, Show'd itself brave and daring, with presence of mind all-unwonted. Let me now, in the first place, describe a deed of rare merit By a high-spirited girl accomplish'd, an excellent maiden, Who in the great farmhouse remain'd behind with the servants, When the whole of the men had departed, to fight with the strangers. Well, there fell on the court a troop of vagabond scoundrels, Plund'ring and forcing their way inside the rooms of the women. Soon they cast their eyes on the forms of the grown-up fair maiden And of the other dear girls, in age little more than mere children. Hurried away by raging desire, unfeelingly rush'd they On the trembling band, and on the high-spirited maiden. But she instantly seized the sword from the side of a ruffian, Hew'd him down to the ground; at her feet straight fell he, all bleeding, Then with doughty strokes the maidens she bravely deliver'd. Wounded four more of the robbers; with life, however, escaped they. Then she lock'd up the court, and, arm'd still, waited for succour.

When the pastor heard the praise of the maiden thus utter'd Feelings of hope for his friend forthwith arose in his bosom, And he prepared to ask what had been the fate of the damsel, Whether she, in the sorrowful flight, form'd one of the people? At this moment, however, the druggist nimbly approach'd them, Pull'd the sleeve of the pastor, and whisper'd to him as follows "I have at last pick'd out the maiden from many a hundred By her description! Pray come and judge for yourself with your own eyes; Bring the magistrate with you, that we may learn the whole story."

So they turn'd themselves round; but the magistrate found himself summon'd By his own followers, who had need of his presence and counsel. But the pastor forthwith the druggist accompanied, till they Came to a gap in the hedge, when the latter pointed with slyness, "See you," exclaim'd he, "the maiden? The child's clothes she has been changing. And I recognise well the old calico--also the cushion-- Cover of blue, which Hermann took in the bundle and gave her. Quickly and well, of a truth, she has used the presents left with her. These are evident proofs; and all the rest coincide too; For a bodice red her well-arch'd bosom upraises, Prettily tied, while black are the stays fitting close around her. Then the seams of the ruff she has carefully plaited and folded, Which, with modest grace, her chin so round is encircling; Free and joyously rises her head, with its elegant oval, Strongly round bodkins of silver her back-hair is many times twisted. When she is sitting, we plainly see her noble proportions, And the blue well-plaited gown which begins from close to her bosom, And in rich folds descending, her well-turn'd ankles envelops. 'Tis she, beyond all doubt. So come, that we may examine Whether she be both a good and a frugal and virtuous maiden." Then the pastor rejoin'd, the sitting damsel inspecting "That she enchanted the youth, I confess is no matter of wonder, For she stands the test of the gaze of a man of experience. Happy the person to whom Mother Nature the right face has given! She recommends him at all times, he never appears as a stranger, Each one gladly approaches, and each one beside him would linger, If with his face is combined a pleasant and courteous demeanour. Yes, I assure you the youth has indeed discover'd a maiden Who the whole of the days of his life will enliven with gladness, And with her womanly strength assist him at all times and truly. Thus a perfect body preserves the soul also in pureness, And a vigorous youth of a happy old age gives assurance.

After reflecting a little, the druggist made answer as follows:-- "Yet appearances oft are deceitful. I trust not the outside. Often, indeed, have I found the truth of the proverb which tells us Ere you share a bushel of salt with a new-found acquaintance, Do not trust him too readily; time will make you more certain How you and he will get on, and whether your friendship is lasting. Let us then, in the first place, inquire amongst the good people Unto whom the maiden is known, who can tell us about her."

"Well, of a truth I commend your prudence," the pastor continued "Not for ourselves are we wooing! To woo for others is serious." So they started to meet the worthy magistrate seeing How in the course of his business he was ascending the main street. And the wise pastor straightway address'd him with foresight as follows "We, by-the-bye, have just seen a girl in the neighbouring garden Under an apple-tree sitting, and clothes for the children preparing, Made of worn calico, which for the purpose was doubtless presented. We were pleased by her face; she appears to be one of the right sort. Tell us, what know you about her? We ask from a laudable motive."

When the magistrate came to the garden and peep'd in, exclaimed he "Well do I know her, in truth; for when I told you the story Of that noble deed which was done by the maiden I spoke of, How she seized on the sword, and defended herself, and the servants, She the heroine was! You can see how active her nature. But she's as good as she's strong; for her aged kinsman she tended Until the time of his death, for he died overwhelm'd by affliction At the distress of his town, and the danger his goods were exposed to. Also with mute resignation she bore the grievous affliction Of her betroth'd's sad death, a noble young man who, incited By the first fire of noble thoughts to struggle for freedom, Went himself to Paris, and soon found a terrible death there. For, as at home, so there, he fought 'gainst intrigue and oppression."

Thus the magistrate spoke. The others departed and thanked him, And the pastor produced a gold piece (the silver his purse held He some hours before had with genuine kindness expended When he saw the fugitives passing in sorrowful masses).

And to the magistrate handed it, saying:--" Divide it, I pray you, 'Mongst those who need it the most. May God give it prosperous increase."

But the man refused to accept it, and said:--"I assure you, Many a dollar we've saved, and plenty of clothing and such things, And I trust we may reach our homes before they are finish'd."

Then continued the pastor, the gold in his hand once more placing "None should delay to give in days like the present, and no one Ought to refuse to receive what is offer'd with liberal kindness. No one can tell how long he will keep what in peace he possesses, No one, how long he is doom'd in foreign countries to wander, While he's deprived of the field and the garden by which he is nurtured."

"Bravo!" added in turn the druggist, with eagerness speaking "Had I but money to spare in my pocket, you surely should have it, Silver and gold alike; for your followers certainly need it. Yet I'll not leave you without a present, if only to show you My good will, and I hope you will take the will for the action." Thus he spoke, and pull'd out by the strings the leather embroider'd Pouch, in which he was wont his stock of tobacco to carry, Daintily open'd and shared its contents--some two or three pipes' full. "Small in truth is the gift," he added. The magistrate answered: "Good tobacco is always a welcome present to trav'llers." Then the druggist began his canister to praise very highly. But the pastor drew him away, and the magistrate left them. "Come, let us hasten!" exclaimed the sensible man, "for our young friend Anxiously waits; without further delay let him hear the good tidings."

So they hasten'd and came, and found that the youngster was leaning 'Gainst his carriage under the lime-trees. The horses were pawing Wildly the turf; he held them in check and stood there all pensive, Silently gazing in front, and saw not his friends coming near him, Till, as they came, they called him and gave him signals of triumph. Some way off the druggist already began to address him, But they approach'd the youth still nearer, and then the good pastor Seized his hand and spoke and took the word from his comrade "Friend, I wish you joy! Your eye so true and your true heart Rightly have chosen! May you and the wife of your young days be happy! She is full worthy of you; so come and turn around the carriage, That we may reach without delay the end of the village, So as to woo her, and shortly escort the dear creature home with us." But the youth stood still, and without any token of pleasure Heard the words of the envoy, though sounding consoling and heav'nly, Deeply sigh'd and said:--"We came full speed in the carriage And shall probably go back home ashamed and but slowly; For, since I have been waiting care has fallen upon me, Doubt and suspicion and all that a heart full of love is exposed to. Do you suppose we have only to come, for the maiden to follow, Just because we are rich, and she poor and wandering in exile? Poverty, when