Long sat the excellent couple under the doorway, exchanging
Many a passing remark on the people who happen’d to pass them.
Presently thus to her husband exclaim’d the good-natured hostess: —
“See! Yon comes the minister; with him is walking the druggist:
They’ll be able to give an account of all that has happen’d,
What they witness’d, and many a sight I fear which was painful.”
Both of them came in a friendly manner, and greeted the couple,
Taking their seats on the wooden benches under the doorway,
Shaking the dust from their feet, their handkerchiefs using to fan them.
Presently, after exchanging reciprocal greetings, the druggist
Open’d his mouth, and almost peevishly vented his feelings: —
“What strange creatures men are! They all resemble each other,
All take pleasure in staring, when troubles fall on their neighbors.
Ev’ry one runs to see the flames destroying a dwelling,
Or a poor criminal led in terror and shame to the scaffold.
All the town has been out to gaze at the sorrowing exiles,
None of them bearing in mind that a like misfortune hereafter,
Possibly almost directly, may happen to be their own portion.
I can’t pardon such levity; yet ’tis the nature of all men.”
Thereupon rejoin’d the noble and excellent pastor,
He, the charm of the town, in age scarce more than a stripling: —
(He was acquainted with life, and knew the wants of his hearers,
Fully convinc’d of the worth of the Holy Scriptures, whose mission
Is to reveal man’s fate, his inclinations to fathom;
He was also well read in the best of secular writings.)
“I don’t like to find fault with any innocent impulse
Which in the mind of man Dame Nature has ever implanted;
For what reason and intellect ne’er could accomplish, is often
Done by some fortunate, quite irresistible instinct within him.
If mankind were never by curiosity driven,
Say, could they e’er have found out for themselves the wonderful manner
Things in the world range in order? For first they Novelty look for,
Then with untiring industry seek to discover the Useful,
Lastly they yearn for the Good, which makes them noble and worthy.
All through their youth frivolity serves as their joyous companion,
Hiding the presence of danger, and swiftly effacing the traces
Caus’d by misfortune and grief, as soon as their onslaught is over.
Truly the man’s to be prais’d who, as years roll onward, develops
Out of such glad disposition an intellect settled and steady, —
Who, in good fortune as well as misfortune, strives zealously, nobly;
For what is good he brings forth, replacing whatever is injur’d.”
Then in a friendly voice impatiently spoke thus the hostess: —
“Tell us what you have seen; I am eagerly longing to hear it.”
Then with emphasis answer’d the druggist: — ”The terrible stories
Told me to-day will serve for a long time to make me unhappy.
Words would fail to describe the manifold pictures of mis’ry.
Far in the distance saw we the dust, before we descended
Down to the meadows; the rising hillocks hid the procession
Long from our eyes, and little could we distinguish about it.
When, however, we reach’d the road that winds through the valley,
Great was the crowd and the noise of the emigrants mix’d with the wagons.
We unhappily saw poor fellows passing in numbers,
Some of them showing how bitter the sense of their sorrowful flight was,
Some with a feeling of joy at saving their lives in a hurry.
Sad was the sight of the manifold goods and chattels pertaining
Unto a well-manag’d house, which the careful owner’s accustom’d
Each in its proper position to place, and in regular order,
Always ready for use, for all are wanted and useful. —
Sad was the sight of them now, on many a wagon and barrow
Heap’d in thorough confusion, and hurriedly huddled together.
Over a cupboard was plac’d a sieve and a coverlet woollen;
Beds in the kneading troughs lay, and linen over the glasses.
Ah! and the danger appear’d to rob the men of their senses,
Just as in our great fire of twenty years ago happen’d,
When what was worthless they sav’d, and left all the best things behind them.
So on the present occasion with heedless caution they carried
Many valueless chattels, o’erlading the cattle and horses, —
Common old boards and barrels, a birdcage next to a goose-pen.
Women and children were gasping beneath the weight of their bundles,
Baskets and tubs full of utterly useless articles bearing.
(Man is always unwilling the least of his goods to abandon.)
Thus on its dusty way advanced the crowded procession,
All in hopeless confusion. First one, whose cattle were weaker,
Fain would slowly advance, while others would eagerly hasten.
Then there arose a scream of half-crush’d women and children,
And a lowing of cattle, with yelping of dogs intermingled,
And a wailing of aged and sick, all sitting and shaking,
Rang’d in their beds on the top of the wagon too-heavily laden.
Next some lumbering wheel, push’d out of the track by the pressure,
Went to the edge of the roadway; the vehicle fell in the ditch then,
Rolling right over, and throwing, in falling, the men who were in it
Far in the field, screaming loudly, their persons however uninjur’d.
Then the boxes roll’d off and tumbled close to the wagon.
Those who saw them falling full surely expected to see them
Smash’d to pieces beneath the weight of the chests and the presses.
So the wagon lay broken, and those that it carried were helpless,
For the rest of the train went on, and hurriedly pass’d them,
Thinking only of self, and carried away by the current.
So we sped to the spot, and found the sick and the aged
Who, when at home and in bed could scarcely endure their sad ailments,
Lying there on the ground, all sighing and groaning in anguish,
Stifled by clouds of dust, and scorch’d by the fierce sun of summer.”
Then replied in tones of compassion the sensitive landlord: —
“Hermann I trust will find them and give them refreshment and clothing.
I should unwillingly see them; I grieve at the sight of such sorrow.
Touch’d by the earliest news of the sad extent of the suff’ring,
Hastily sent we a trifle from out of our superabundance,
Just to comfort a few, and then our minds were more easy.
Now let us cease to discourse on such a sorrowful subject,
For men’s hearts are easily overshadow’d by terror,
And by care, more odious far to me than misfortune.
Now let us go to a cooler place, the little backparlor;
There the sun never shines, and the walls are so thick that the hot air
Never can enter; and mother shall forthwith bring us a glass each
Full of fine Eighty-three, well fitted to drive away trouble.
This is a bad place for drinking; the flies will hum round the glasses.”
So they all went inside, enjoying themselves in the coolness.
Then in a well-cut flask the mother carefully brought them
Some of that clear, good wine, upon a bright metal waite
r
With those greenish rummers, the fittingest goblets for Rhine wine.
So the three sat together, around the glistening polish’d
Circular large brown table, — on massive feet it was planted.
Merrily clink’d together the glasses of host and of pastor,
But the other one thoughtfully held his glass without moving,
And in friendly fashion the host thus ask’d him to join them: —
“Drink, good neighbor, I pray! A merciful God has protected
Us in the past from misfortune, and will protect us in future.
All must confess that since He thought fit to severely chastise us,
When that terrible fire occurr’d, He has constantly bless’d us,
And watch’d over us constantly, just as man is accustom’d
His eye’s precious apple to guard, that dearest of members.
Shall He not for the future preserve us, and be our Protector?
For ’tis in danger we learn to appreciate duly His Goodness.
This so flourishing town, which He built again from its ashes
By the industrious hands of its burghers, and bless’d it so richly,
Will He again destroy it, and render their toil unavailing?”
Cheerfully answer’d the excellent pastor, in accents of mildness: —
“Steadfastly cling to this faith, and cherish such worthy opinions;
In good fortune they’ll make you prudent, and then in misfortune
Well-grounded hopes they’ll supply, and furnish you true consolation.”
Then continued the host, with thoughts full of manhood and wisdom: —
“Oft have I greeted with wonder the rolling flood of the Rhine stream,
When, on my business trav’lling, I’ve once more come to its borders.
Grand has it ever appear’d, exalting my feelings and senses;
But I could never imagine that soon its beautiful margin
Into a wall would be turn’d, to keep the French from our country,
And its wide-spreading bed a ditch to hinder and check them.
So by Nature we’re guarded, we’re guarded by valorous Germans,
And by the Lord we’re guarded; who then would foolishly tremble?
Weary the combatants are, and all things indicate peace soon;
And when at length the long-expected festival’s holden
Here in our church, and the bells chime in with the organ in chorus,
And the trumpets are blowing, the noble Te Deum upraising,
Then on that selfsame day I fain would see, my good pastor,
Our dear Hermann kneel with his bride at the altar before you,
And the glad festival held through the length and breadth of the country
Will henceforward to me be a glad anniversary also!
But I am griev’d to observe that the youth, who is always so active
When he is here at home, abroad is so slow and so timid.
Little at any time cares he to mix with the rest of the people;
Yes, he even avoids young maidens’ society ever,
And the frolicsome dance, that great delight of young people.”
Thus he spake, and then listen’d. The sound of the stamping of horses
Drawing nearer was heard; and then the roll of the carriage,
Which, with impetuous speed, now thunder’d under the gateway.
Chronological table of contents
Alphabetical table of contents
Terpsichore.
Chronological table of contents
Alphabetical table of contents
HERMANN.
THEN when into the room the well-built son made his entry,
Straightway with piercing glances the minister eyed him intently,
And with carefulness watch’d his looks and the whole of his bearing,
With an inquiring eye which easily faces deciphers;
Then he smil’d, and with cordial words address’d him as follows: —
“How you are chang’d in appearance, my friend! I never have seen you
Half so lively before; your looks are thoroughly cheerful.
You have return’d quite joyous and merry. You’ve doubtless divided
All of the presents amongst the poor, their blessings receiving.”
Then in calm accents replied the son, with gravity speaking: —
“Whether I’ve laudably acted, I know not; I follow’d the impulse
Of my own heart, as now I’ll proceed to describe with exactness.
Mother, you rummag’d so long, in looking over old pieces,
And in making your choice, that ’twas late when the bundle was ready,
And the wine and the beer were slowly and carefully pack’d up.
When I at length emerg’d at the gate, and came on the highway,
Fr. Pecht del.
published by george barrie
Adr. Schreck sculp.
Hermann
Streams of citizens met I returning, with women and children,
For the train of the exiles had long disappear’d in the distance.
So I quicken’d my pace, and hastily drove to the village
Where I had heard that to-night to rest and to sleep they intended.
Well, as I went on my way, the newly-made causeway ascending,
Suddenly saw I a wagon, of excellent timber constructed,
Drawn by a couple of oxen, the best and the strongest of foreign.
Close beside it there walk’d, with sturdy footsteps, a maiden,
Guiding the two strong beasts with a long kind of staff, which with skill she
Knew how to use, now driving, and now restraining their progress.
When the maiden observ’d me, she quietly came near the horses,
And address’d me as follows: — ’Our usual condition, believe me,
Is not so sad as perchance you might judge from our present appearance.
I am not yet accustom’d to ask for alms from a stranger,
Who so often but gives, to rid himself of a beggar.
But I’m compell’d to speak by necessity. Here on the straw now
Lies the lately-confin’d poor wife of a wealthy landowner,
Whom with much trouble I manag’d to save with oxen and wagon.
We were late in arriving, and scarcely with life she escaped.
Now the newly-born child in her arms is lying, all naked,
And our friends will be able to give them but little assistance,
E’en if in the next village, to which to-night we are going,
We should still find them, although I fear they have left it already.
If you belong to the neighborhood, any available linen
These poor people will deem a most acceptable present.’
“Thus she spake, and wearily rais’d herself the pale patient
Up from the straw and gaz’d upon me, while thus I made answer: —
‘Oft doth a heavenly spirit whisper to kindhearted people,
So that they feel the distress o’er their poorer brethren impending;
For my mother, your troubles foreboding, gave me a bundle
Ready prepar’d for relieving the wants of those who were naked.’
Then I loosen’d the knots of the cord, and the dressing-gown gave her
Which belong’d to my father, and gave her some shirts and some linen,
And she thank’d me with joy and said: — ’The fortunate know not
How ’tis that miracles happen; we only discover in sorrow
God’s protecting finger and hand, extended to beckon
Good men to good. May your kindness to us by Him be requited.’
And I saw the poor patient joyfully handling the linen,
Valuing most of all the soft flannel, the dressing-gown lining.
Then the maid thus address’d her: — ’Now let us haste to the village
Where our friends are restin
g, to-night intending to sleep there;
There I will straightway attend to whate’er for the infant is needed.’
Then she saluted me too, her thanks most heartily giving,
Drove the oxen, the wagon went on. I linger’d 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 plac’d, 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 neighbor
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 be sorry to lose, though little in value they may be.
Works of Johann Wolfgang von Goethe Page 290