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 undeserved, itself makes proud.The fair maiden Seems to be active and frugal; the world she may claim as her portion.
Do you suppose that a woman of such great beauty and manners Can have grown up without exciting love in man's bosom?
Do you suppose that her heart until now has to love been fast closed?
Do not drive thither in haste, for perchance to our shame and confusion We shall have slowly to turn towards home the heads of our horses.
Yes, some youth, I fear me, possesses her heart, and already She has doubtless promised her hand and her solemn troth plighted, And I shall stand all ashamed before her, When making my offer."Then the pastor proceeded to cheer him with words of good comfort, But his companion broke in, in his usual talkative manner "As things used to be, this embarrassment would not have happened, When each matter was brought to a close in an orthodox fashion.
Then for their son themselves the bride the parents selected, And a friend of the house was secretly call'd in the first place.
He was then quietly sent as a suitor to visit the parents Of the selected bride; and, dress'd in his gayest apparel, Went after dinner some Sunday to visit the excellent burgher, And began by exchanging polite remarks on all subjects, Cleverly turning and bending the talk in the proper direction.
After long beating about the bush, he flatter'd the daughter, And spoke well of the man and the house that gave his commission.
Sensible people soon saw his drift, and the sensible envoy Watch'd how the notion was taken, and then could explain himself farther.
If they declined the proposal, why then the refusal cost nothing, But if all prosper'd, why then the suitor for ever thereafter Play'd the first fiddle at every family feast and rejoicing.
For the married couple remember'd the whole of their lifetime Whose was the skilful hand by which the marriage knot tied was.
All this now is chang'd, and with many an excellent custom Has gone quite out of fashion.Each person woos for himself now.
Everyone now must bear the weight of a maiden's refusal On his own shoulders, and stand all ashamed before her, if needs be.""Let that be as it may," then answered the young man who scarcely Heard what was said, and his mind had made up already in silence "I will go myself, and out of the mouth of the maiden Learn my own fate, for towards her I cherish the most trustful feelings That any man ever cherish'd towards any woman whatever.
That which she says will be good and sensible,--this I am sure of.
If I am never to see her again, I must once more behold her, And the ingenuous gaze of her black eyes must meet for the last time.
If to my heart I may clasp her never, her bosom and shoulders I would once more see, which my arm so longs to encircle:
Once more the mouth I would see, from which one kiss and a Yes will Make me happy for ever, a No for ever undo me.
But now leave me alone! Wait here no longer.Return you Straight to my father and mother, in order to tell them in person That their son was right, and that the maiden is worthy.
And so leave me alone! I myself shall return by the footpath Over the hill by the pear-tree and then descend through the vineyard, Which is the shortest way back.Oh may I soon with rejoicing Take the beloved one home! But perchance all alone I must slink back By that path to our house and tread it no more with a light heart."Thus he spoke, and then placed the reins in the hands of the pastor, Who, in a knowing way both the foaming horses restraining, Nimbly mounted the carriage, and took the seat of the driver.
