Scarcely they made their escape from my passionate kicking and beating.
Then, as I older grew, I had much to endure from my father;Violent words he oft vented on me, instead of on others, When, at the board's last session, the council had roused his displeasure, And I was made to atone for the quarrels and wiles of his colleagues.
Thou has pitied me often thyself; for much did I suffer, Ever remembering with cordial respect the kindness of parents, Solely intent on increasing for us their goods and possessions, Much denying themselves in order to save for their children.
But, alas! saving alone, for the sake of a tardy enjoyment,--That is not happiness: pile upon pile, and acre on acre, Make us not happy, no matter how fair our estates may be rounded.
For the father grows old, and with him will grow old the children, Losing the joy of the day, and bearing the care of tomorrow.
Look thou below, and see how before us in glory are lying, Fair and abundant, the corn-fields; beneath them, the vineyard and garden;Yonder the stables and barns; our beautiful line of possessions.
But when I look at the dwelling behind, where up in the gable We can distinguish the window that marks my room in the attic;When I look back, and remember how many a night from that window I for the moon have watched; for the sun, how many a morning!
When the healthful sleep of a few short hours sufficed me,--Ah, so lonely they seem to me then, the chamber and courtyard, Garden and glorious field, away o'er the hill that is stretching;All so desert before me lie: 'tis the wife that is wanting."Thereupon spoke the good mother, and thus with intelligence answered:
"Son, not greater thy wish to bring thee a bride to thy chamber, That thou mayst find thy nights a beautiful part of existence, And that the work of the day may gain independence and freedom, Than is thy father's wish too, and thy mother's. We always have counselled,--Yea, we have even insisted,--that thou shouldst select thee a maiden.
But I was ever aware, and now my heart gives me assurance, That till the hour appointed is come, and the maiden appointed Shall with the hour appear, the choice will be left for the future, While more strong than all else will be fear of grasping the wrong one.
If I may say it, my son, I believe thou already hast chosen;For thy heart has been touched, and been made more than wontedly tender.
Speak it out honestly, then; for my soul has told me beforehand:
That same maiden it is, the exile, whom thou hast elected.""Thou has said, mother!" the son thereupon with eagerness answered.
"Yes, it is she; and if I to-day as my bride do not bring her Home to our dwelling, she from me will go, perhaps vanish for ever, Lost in the war's confusion and sad movings hither and thither.
Mother, for ever in vain would then our abundant possessions Prosper before me, and seasons to come be in vain to me fruitful.
Yea, I should hold in aversion the wonted house and the garden:
Even my mother's love, alas! would not comfort my sorrow.
Every tie, so I feel in my heart, by love is unloosened Soon as she fastens her own; and not the maid is it only Leaves behind father and mother, to follow the man she has chosen.
He too, the youth, no longer knows aught of mother and father, When he the maiden, his only beloved, sees vanishing from him.
Suffer me, then, to go hence wherever despair shall impel me:
Since by my father himself the decisive words have been spoken;Since his house can no longer be mine if he shut out the maiden, Her whom alone as my bride I desire to bring to our dwelling."Thereupon quickly made answer the good and intelligent mother:
"How like to rocks, forsooth, two men will stand facing each other!
Proud and not to be moved, will neither draw near to his fellow;Neither will stir his tongue to utter the first word of kindness.
Therefore I tell thee, my son, a hope yet lives in my bosom, So she be honest and good, thy father will let thee espouse her, Even though poor, and against a poor girl so decisive his sentence.
Many a thing he is wont to speak out in his violent fashion Which he yet never performs; and so what he denies will consent to.
Yet he requires a kindly word, and is right to require it: He is the father!
Besides we know that his wrath after dinner,--When he most hastily speaks, and questions all others' opinions,--Signifies naught; the full force of his violent will is excited Then by the wine, which lets him not heed the language of others;None but himself does he see and feel. But now is come evening, Talk upon various subjects has passed between him and his neighbors.
Gentle, he is; I am sure now his little excitement is over, And he can feel how unjust his passion has made him to others.
Come, let us venture at once: success is alone to the valiant!
Further we need the friends, still sitting together there with him,;And in especial the worthy pastor will give us assistance."Thus she hastily spoke, and up from the stone then arising, Drew from his seat her son, who willingly followed. In silence Both descended the hill, their important purpose revolving.
