No: the hard fortunes of war, that universal destroyer, Which is convulsing the earth and has hurled from its deep foundations Many a structure already, have sent the poor girl into exile.
Are not now men of high birth, the most noble, in misery roaming?
Princes fly in disguise and kings are in banishment living.
So alas! also is she, the best among all of her sisters, Driven an exile from home; yet, her personal sorrows forgetting, She is devoted to others; herself without help, she is helpful.
Great is the want and the suffering over the earth that are spreading:
Shall not some happiness, too, be begotten of all this affliction, And shall not I in the arms of my wife, my trusted companion, Look back with joy to the war, as do ye to the great conflagration?"Outspoke the father then in a tone of decision, and answered:
"Strangely thy tongue has been loosened, my son, which many a year past Seemed to have stuck in thy mouth, and only to move on compulsion!
I must experience to-day, it would seem, what threatens all fathers, That the son's headstrong will the mother with readiness favors, Showing too easy indulgence; and every neighbor sides with them When there is aught to be carried against the father and husband.
But I will not oppose you, thus banded together: how could I?
For I already perceive here tears and defiance beforehand.
Go ye therefore, inquire, in God's name, bring me the daughter.
But if not so, then the boy is to think no more of the maiden."Thus the father. The son cried out with joyful demeanor, "Ere it is evening the noblest of daughters shall hither be brought you, Such as no man with sound sense in his breast can fail to be pleased with.
Happy, I venture to hope, will be also the excellent maiden.
Yes; she will ever be grateful for having had father and mother Given once more in you, and such as a child most delights in.
Now I will tarry no longer, but straightway harness the horses, Drive forth our friends at once on the footsteps of my beloved, Leaving them then to act for themselves, as their wisdom shall dictate, Guide myself wholly, I promise, according to what they determine, And, until I may call her my own, ne'er look on the maiden."Thus he went forth: the others meanwhile remained in discussion, Rapid and earnest, considering deeply their great undertaking.
Hermann hasted straightway to the stable, where quietly standing Found he the spirited stallions, the clean oats quickly devouring, And the well-dried hay that was cut from the richest of meadows.
On them without delay the shining bits he adjusted, Hastily drew the straps through the buckles of beautiful plating, Firmly fastened then the long broad reins, and the horses Led without to the court-yard, whither the willing assistant Had with ease, by the pole, already drawn forward the carriage.
Next to the whipple-tree they with care by the neatly kept traces Joined the impetuous strength of the freely travelling horses.
Whip in hand took Hermann his seat and drove under the doorway.
Soon as the friends straightway their commodious places had taken, Quickly the carriage rolled off, and left the pavement behind it, Left behind it the walls of the town and the fresh-whitened towers.
Thus drove Hermann on till he came to the well-known causeway.
Rapidly, loitering nowhere, but hastening up hill and down hill.
But as he now before him perceived the spire of the village, And no longer remote the garden-girt houses were lying, Then in himself he thought that here he would rein up the horses.
Under the solemn shade of lofty linden-trees lying, Which for centuries past upon this spot had been rooted, Spread in front of the village a broad and grass-covered common, Favorite place of resort for the peasants and neighboring townsfolk.
Here, at the foot of the trees, sunk deep in the ground was a well-spring;When you descended the steps, stone benches you found at the bottom, Stationed about the spring, whose pure, living waters were bubbling Ceaselessly forth, hemmed in by low walls for convenience of drawing.
Hermann resolved that here he would halt, with his horses and carriage, Under the shade of the trees. He did so, and said to the others;"Here alight, my friends, and go your ways to discover Whether the maiden in truth be worthy the hand that I offer.
That, she is so, I believe; naught new or strange will ye tell me.
Had I to act for myself, I should go with speed to the village, Where a few words from the maiden's own lips should determine my fortune.
Ye will with readiness single her out from all of the others, For there can scarcely be one that to her may be likened in bearing.
But I will give you, besides, her modest attire for a token:
