Can you joy in
bustling
daytime,-
Day, when none can get his will?
Day, when none can get his will?
Warner - World's Best Literature - v11 - Fro to Gre
He
is now poor in goods and favor, and a stranger in the scene
which from youth he had looked upon as his inheritance. His
temper here assumes its first mournful tinge. He feels that now
## p. 6430 (#412) ###########################################
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GOETHE
he is not more, that he is less, than a private nobleman; he
offers himself as the servant of every one; he is not courteous
and condescending, he is needy and degraded.
"His past condition he remembers as a vanished dream. It
is in vain that his uncle strives to cheer him, to present his sit-
uation in another point of view. The feeling of his nothingness
will not leave him.
"The second stroke that came upon him wounded deeper,
bowed still more. It was the marriage of his mother. The
faithful tender son had yet a mother, when his father passed
away. He hoped in the company of his surviving, noble-minded
parent, to reverence the heroic form of the departed; but his
mother too he loses, and it is something worse than death that
robs him of her. The trustful image which a good child loves
to form of its parents is gone. With the dead there is no help;
on the living no hold. She also is a woman, and her name is
Frailty, like that of all her sex.
"Now first does he feel himself completely bent and orphaned;
and no happiness of life can repay what he has lost. Not reflect-
ive or sorrowful by nature, reflection and sorrow have become
for him a heavy obligation. It is thus that we see him first enter
on the scene. I do not think that I have mixed aught foreign
with the piece, or overcharged a single feature of it. "
Serlo looked at his sister and said, "Did I give thee a false
picture of our friend? He begins well; he has still many things
to tell us, many to persuade us of. " Wilhelm asseverated loudly
that he meant not to persuade but to convince; he begged for
another moment's patience.
"Figure to yourselves this youth," cried he, "this son of
princes; conceive him vividly, bring his state before your eyes,
and then observe him when he learns that his father's spirit
walks; stand by him in the terrors of the night, when the ven-
erable ghost itself appears before him. A horrid shudder passes
over him; he speaks to the mysterious form; he sees it beckon
him; he follows it, and hears. The fearful accusation of his
uncle rings in his ears; the summons to revenge, and the pier-
cing oft-repeated prayer, Remember me!
"And when the ghost has vanished, who is it that stands be-
fore us? A young hero panting for vengeance? A prince by
birth, rejoicing to be called to punish the usurper of his crown?
No! trouble and astonishment take hold of the solitary young
## p. 6431 (#413) ###########################################
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6431
man; he grows bitter against smiling villains, swears that he will
not forget the spirit, and concludes with the significant ejacula-
tion:
«The time is out of joint: O cursed spite,
That ever I was born to set it right! '
"In these words, I imagine, will be found the key to Hamlet's
whole procedure. To me it is clear that Shakespeare meant, in
the present case, to represent the effects of a great action laid
upon a soul unfit for the performance of it. In this view the
whole piece seems to me to be composed. There is an oak-tree
planted in a costly jar, which should have borne only pleasant
flowers in its bosom; the roots expand, the jar is shivered.
"A lovely, pure, noble, and most moral nature, without the
strength of nerve which forms a hero, sinks beneath a burden
which it cannot bear and must not cast away. All duties are
holy for him; the present is too hard. Impossibilities have been
required of him, not in themselves impossibilities, but such for
him. He winds, and turns, and torments himself; he advances
and recoils; is ever put in mind, ever puts himself in mind; at
last does all but lose his purpose from his thoughts; yet still
without recovering his peace of mind. "
Aurelia seemed to give but little heed to what was passing;
at last she conducted Wilhelm to another room, and going to the
window, and looking out at the starry sky she said to him, “You
have still much to tell us about Hamlet; I will not hurry you;
my brother must hear it as well as I; but let me beg to know
your thoughts about Ophelia. "
>>>>
"Of her there cannot much be said," he answered; "for a few
master strokes complete her character. The whole being of
Ophelia floats in sweet and ripe sensation. Kindness for the
Prince, to whose hand she may aspire, flows so spontaneously,
her tender heart obeys its impulses so unresistingly, that both
father and brother are afraid; both give her warning harshly and
directly. Decorum, like the thin lawn upon her bosom, cannot
hide the soft, still movements of her heart; it on the contrary
betrays them. Her fancy is smit; her silent modesty breathes
amiable desire; and if the friendly goddess Opportunity should
shake the tree, its fruit would fall. "
"And then," said Aurelia, "when she beholds herself forsaken,
cast away, despised; when all is inverted in the soul of her crazed
## p. 6432 (#414) ###########################################
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GOETHE
lover, and the highest changes to the lowest, and instead of the
sweet cup of love he offers her the bitter cup of woe - ”
"Her heart breaks," cried Wilhelm; "the whole structure of
her being is loosened from its joinings; her father's death strikes
fiercely against it; and the fair edifice altogether crumbles into
fragments. "
Serlo, at this moment entering, inquired about his sister; and
looking in the book which our friend had hold of, cried, "So
you are again at 'Hamlet'? Very good! Many doubts have
arisen in me, which seem not a little to impair the canonical
aspect of the piece as you would have it viewed. The English
themselves have admitted that its chief interest concludes with
the third act; the last two lagging sorrily on, and scarcely unit-
ing with the rest: and certainly about the end it seems to stand
stock still. "
"It is very possible," said Wilhelm, "that some individuals of
a nation which has so many masterpieces to feel proud of, may
be led by prejudice and narrowness of mind to form false judg
ments; but this cannot hinder us from looking with our own
eyes, and doing justice where we see it due. I am very far
from censuring the plan of 'Hamlet': on the other hand, I be-
lieve there never was a grander one invented; nay, it is not
invented, it is real. "
"How do you demonstrate that? " inquired Serlo.
"I will not demonstrate anything," said Wilhelm; "I will
merely show you what my own conceptions of it are. "
Aurelia rose up from her cushion, leaned upon her hand, and
looked at Wilhelm; who, with the firmest assurance that he was
in the right, went on as follows:
"It pleases us, it flatters us to see a hero acting on his own
strength; loving and hating as his heart directs him; undertaking
and completing; casting every obstacle aside; and at length at-
taining some great object which he aimed at. Poets and histo-
rians would willingly persuade us that so proud a lot may fall to
man. In 'Hamlet' we are taught another lesson: the hero is
without a plan, but the piece is full of plan. Here we have no
villain punished on some self-conceived and rigidly accomplished
scheme of vengeance: a horrid deed occurs; it rolls itself along
with all its consequences, dragging guiltless persons also in its
course; the perpetrator seems as if he would evade the abyss
which is made ready for him, yet he plunges in, at the very
―――――
0
•
P
in
## p. 6433 (#415) ###########################################
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6433
point by which he thinks he shall escape and happily complete
his course.
"For it is the property of crime to extend its mischief over
innocence, as it is of virtue to extend its blessings over many
that deserve them not; while frequently the author of the one or
of the other is not punished or rewarded at all. Here in this
play of ours, how strange! The Pit of Darkness sends its spirit
and demands revenge; in vain! All circumstances tend one
way, and hurry to revenge; in vain! Neither earthly nor infer-
nal thing may bring about what is reserved for Fate alone. The
hour of judgment comes: the wicked falls with the good; one
race is mowed away, that another may spring up. "
After a pause, in which they looked at one another, Serlo
said: "You pay no great compliment to Providence, in thus
exalting Shakespeare; and besides, it appears to me that for the
honor of your poet, as others for the honor of Providence, you
ascribe to him an object and a plan which he himself had never
thought of. "
"Let me also put a question," said Aurelia. "I have looked
at Ophelia's part again; I am contented with it, and conceive.
that under certain circumstances I could play it.
But tell me,
should not the poet have furnished the insane maiden with
another sort of songs? Could not one select some fragments out
of melancholy ballads for this purpose? What have double
meanings and lascivious insipidities to do in the mouth of such a
noble-minded person? "
"Dear friend," said Wilhelm, "even here I cannot yield you
one iota.
In these singularities, in this apparent impropriety, a
deep sense is hid. Do we not understand from the very first
what the mind of the good soft-hearted girl was busied with?
Silently she lived within herself, yet she scarce concealed her
wishes, her longing; the tones of desire were in secret ringing
through her soul; and how often may she have attempted, like
an unskillful nurse, to lull her senses to repose with songs
which only kept them more awake? But at last, when her self-
command is altogether gone, when the secrets of her heart are
hovering on her tongue, that tongue betrays her; and in the
innocence of insanity she solaces herself, unmindful of king or
queen, with the echo of her loose and well-beloved songs, 'To-
morrow is Saint Valentine's Day,' and 'By Gis and by Saint
Charity. '
XI-403
## p. 6434 (#416) ###########################################
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"I am much mistaken," cried he, "if I have not now dis-
covered how the whole is to be managed; nay, I am convinced
that Shakespeare himself would have arranged it so, had not
his mind been too exclusively directed to the ruling interest, and
perhaps misled by the novels which furnished him with his
materials. »
"Let us hear," said Serlo, placing himself with an air of
solemnity upon the sofa; "I will listen calmly, but judge with
rigor. »
"I am not afraid of you," said Wilhelm; "only hear me. In
the composition of this play, after the most accurate investiga-
tion and the most mature reflection, I distinguish two classes of
objects. The first are the grand internal relations of the persons
and events, the powerful effects which arise from the characters
and proceedings of the main figures: these, I hold, are individ-
ually excellent, and the order in which they are presented can-
not be improved. No kind of interference must be suffered to
destroy them, or even essentially to change their form. These
are the things which stamp themselves deep into the soul;
which all men long to see, which no one dares to meddle with.
Accordingly, I understand, they have almost wholly been retained.
in all our German theatres.
"But our countrymen have erred, in my opinion, with regard
to the second class of objects which may be observed in this
tragedy: I allude to the external relations of the persons, where-
by they are brought from place to place, or combined in vari-
ous ways by certain accidental incidents. These they have looked
upon as very unimportant; have spoken of them only in passing,
or left them out altogether. Now indeed it must be owned
that these threads are slack and slender; yet they run through
the entire piece, and bind together much that would otherwise
fall asunder, and does actually fall asunder when you cut them
off, and imagine you have done enough and more if you have
left the ends hanging.
"Among these external relations I include the disturbances
in Norway, the war with young Fortinbras, the embassy to his
uncle, the settling of that feud, the march of young Fortinbras
to Poland, and his coming back at the end; of the same sort are
Horatio's return from Wittenberg, Hamlet's wish to go thither,
the journey of Laertes to France, his return, the dispatch of
Hamlet into England, his capture by pirates, the death of the
I
I
## p. 6435 (#417) ###########################################
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6435
two courtiers by the letter which they carried. All these circum-
stances and events would be very fit for expanding and length.
ening a novel; but here they injure exceedingly the unity of
the piece, particularly as the hero had no plan,- and are in
consequence entirely out of place. "
"For once in the right! " cried Serlo.
"Do not interrupt me," answered Wilhelm; "perhaps you
will not always think me right. These errors are like temporary
props of an edifice; they must not be removed till we have built
a firm wall in their stead. My project therefore is, not at all to
change those first-mentioned grand situations, or at least as much
as possible to spare them, both collectively and individually; but
with respect to these external, single, dissipated, and dissipating
motives, to cast them all at once away, and substitute a solitary
one instead of them. "
"And this? " inquired Serlo, springing up from his recumbent
posture.
"It lies in the piece itself," answered Wilhelm, "only I em-
ploy it rightly. There are disturbances in Norway. You shall
hear my plan and try it.
"After the death of Hamlet the father, the Norwegians, lately
conquered, grow unruly. The viceroy of that country sends his
son Horatio, an old school friend of Hamlet's, and distinguished
above every other for his bravery and prudence, to Denmark, to
press forward the equipment of the fleet, which under the new
luxurious King proceeds but slowly. Horatio has known the
former King, having fought in his battles, having even stood in
favor with him; a circumstance by which the first ghost scene
will be nothing injured. The new sovereign gives Horatio audi-
ence, and sends Laertes into Norway with intelligence that the
fleet will soon arrive, whilst Horatio is commissioned to acceler-
ate the preparation of it; and the Queen, on the other hand, will
not consent that Hamlet, as he wishes, should go to sea along
with him. "
-
"Heaven be praised! " cried Serlo; "we shall now get rid of
Wittenberg and the university, which was always a sorry piece
of business. I think your idea extremely good: for except these
two distant objects, Norway and the fleet, the spectator will not
be required to fancy anything: the rest he will see; the rest takes
place before him; whereas his imagination, on the other plan, was
hunted over all the world. "
## p. 6436 (#418) ###########################################
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GOETHE
"You easily perceive," said Wilhelm, "how I shall contrive to
keep the other parts together. When Hamlet tells Horatio of
his uncle's crime, Horatio counsels him to go to Norway in his
company, to secure the affections of the army, and return in war-
like force. Hamlet also is becoming dangerous to the King and
Queen; they find no readier method of deliverance than to send
him in the fleet, with Rosencrantz and Guildenstern to be spies
upon him: and as Laertes in the mean time comes from France,
they determine that this youth, exasperated even to murder,
shall go after him. Unfavorable winds detain the fleet; Hamlet
returns: for his wandering through the church-yard perhaps some.
lucky motive may be thought of; his meeting with Laertes in
Ophelia's grave is a grand moment, which we must not part
with. After this, the King resolves that it is better to get quit
of Hamlet on the spot: the festival of his departure, the pre-
tended reconcilement with Laertes, are now solemnized; on
which occasion knightly sports are held, and Laertes fights with
Hamlet. Without the four corpses I cannot end the piece; not
one of them can possibly be left. The right of popular election
now again comes in force, and Hamlet gives his dying voice for
Horatio. "
"Quick! quick! " said Serlo; "sit down and work the piece;
your plan has my entire approbation; only do not let your zeal
for it evaporate.
Wilhelm had already been for some time busied with trans-
lating Hamlet; making use, as he labored, of Wieland's spirited
performance, by means of which he had first become acquainted
with Shakespeare. What in Wieland's work had been omitted he
replaced; and he had at length procured himself a complete ver-
sion, at the very time when Serlo and he finally agreed about
the way of treating it. He now began, according to his plan, to
cut out and insert, to separate and unite, to alter and often to
restore; for satisfied as he was with his own conception, it still
appeared to him as if in executing it he were but spoiling the
original.
So soon
as all was finished, he read his work to Serlo and
the rest. They declared themselves exceedingly contented with
it; Serlo in particular made many flattering observations.
"You have felt very justly," said he, among other things,
"that some external circumstances must accompany this piece;
but that they must be simpler than those which the great poet
## p. 6437 (#419) ###########################################
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6437
has employed. What takes place without the theatre what the
spectator does not see, but must imagine for himself-is like a
background, in front of which the acting figures move. Your
large and simple prospect of the fleet and Norway will very
much improve the piece; if this were altogether taken from it,
we should have but a family scene remaining; and the great
idea, that here a kingly house by internal crimes and incongru-
ities goes down to ruin, would not be presented with its proper
dignity. But if the former background were left standing, so
manifold, so fluctuating and confused, it would hurt the impres-
sion of the figures. "
Wilhelm again took Shakespeare's part: alleging that he wrote
for islanders, for Englishmen, who generally, in the distance,
were accustomed to see little else than ships and voyages, the
coast of France and privateers; and thus what perplexed and
distracted others was to them quite natural.
Serlo assented; and both of them were of opinion that as the
piece was now to be produced upon the German stage, this more
serious and simple background was the best adapted for the Ger-
man mind.
The parts had been distributed before: Serlo undertook Polo-
nius; Aurelia undertook Ophelia; Laertes was already designated
by his name; a young, thick-set, jolly new-comer was to be
Horatio; the King and the Ghost alone occasioned some perplex-
ity. For both of these was no one but Old Boisterous remaining.
Serlo proposed to make the Pedant King; but against this our
friend protested in the strongest terms. They could resolve on
nothing.
Wilhelm also had allowed both Rosencrantz and Guildenstern
to continue in his piece. "Why not compress them into one? »
said Serlo. "This abbreviation will not cost you much. "
"Heaven keep me from such curtailments! " answered Wil-
helm; "they destroy at once the sense and the effect. What
these two persons are and do it is impossible to represent by
one. In such small matters we discover Shakespeare's greatness.
These soft approaches, this smirking and bowing, this assenting,
wheedling, flattering, this whisking agility, this wagging of the
tail, this allness and emptiness, this legal knavery, this ineptitude
and insipidity,- how can they be expressed by a single man?
There ought to be at least a dozen of these people if they could
be had, for it is only in society that they are anything; they are
## p. 6438 (#420) ###########################################
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GOETHE
society itself; and Shakespeare showed no little wisdom and dis
cernment in bringing in a pair of them. Besides, I need them
as a couple that may be contrasted with the single, noble, excel-
lent Horatio. "
THE INDENTURE
From Wilhelm Meister's Apprenticeship'
Α
RT is long, life short, judgment difficult, opportunity transient.
To act is easy, to think is hard; to act according to our
thought is troublesome. Every beginning is cheerful; the
threshold is the place of expectation. The boy stands astonished,
his impressions guide him; he learns sportfully, seriousness comes
on him by surprise. Imitation is born with us; what should be
imitated is not easy to discover. The excellent is rarely found,
more rarely valued. The height charms us, the steps to it do
not; with the summit in our eye, we love to walk along the
plain. It is but a part of art that can be taught; the artist
needs it all. Who knows it half, speaks much and is always
wrong; who knows it wholly, inclines to act and speaks seldom
or late.
The former have no secrets and no force; the instruc-
tion they can give is like baked bread, savory and satisfying for
a single day; but flour cannot be sown, and seed corn ought not
to be ground. Words are good, but they are not the best. The
best is not to be explained by words. The spirit in which we act
is the highest matter. Action can be understood and again rep-
resented by the spirit alone. No one knows what he is doing
while he acts aright; but of what is wrong we are always con-
scious. Whoever works with symbols only is a pedant, a hypo-
crite, or a bungler. There are many such, and they like to be
together. Their babbling detains the scholar; their obstinate
mediocrity vexes even the best. The instruction which the true
artist gives us opens the mind; for where words fail him, deeds.
speak. The true scholar learns from the known to unfold the
unknown, and approaches more and more to being a master.
## p. 6439 (#421) ###########################################
GOETHE
6439
THE HARPER'S SONGS
From 'Wilhelm Meister's Apprenticeship'
HAT notes are those without the wall,
"WHAT Across the portal sounding?
Let's have the music in our hall,
Back from its roof rebounding. "
So spoke the king: the henchman flies;
His answer heard, the monarch cries,
«< Bring in that ancient minstrel. »
"Hail, gracious king, each noble knight!
Each lovely dame, I greet you!
What glittering stars salute my sight!
What heart unmoved may meet you!
Such lordly pomp is not for me,
Far other scenes my eyes must see:
Yet deign to list my harping. "
The singer turns him to his art,
A thrilling strain he raises;
Each warrior hears with glowing heart
And on his loved one gazes.
The king, who liked his playing well,
Commands, for such a kindly spell,
A golden chain be given him.
"The golden chain give not to me:
Thy boldest knight may wear it,
Who 'cross the battle's purple sea
On lion breast may bear it;
Or let it be thy chancellor's prize,
Amid his heaps to feast his eyes,-
Its yellow glance will please him.
"I sing but as the linnet sings,
That on the green bough dwelleth;
A rich reward his music brings,
As from his throat it swelleth :
Yet might I ask, I'd ask of thine
One sparkling draught of purest wine
To drink it here before you. "
He viewed the wine, he quaffed it up:
"O draught of sweetest savor!
## p. 6440 (#422) ###########################################
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GOETHE
O happy house, where such a cup
Is thought a little favor!
If well you fare, remember me,
And thank kind Heaven, from envy free,
As now for this I thank you. "
WHO never ate his bread in sorrow,
Who never spent the darksome hours
Weeping and watching for the morrow,-
He knows ye not, ye gloomy Powers.
To earth, this weary earth, ye bring us,
To guilt ye let us heedless go,
Then leave repentance fierce to wring us;
A moment's guilt, an age of woe!
MIGNON'S SONG
From Wilhelm Meister's Apprenticeship'
UCH let me seem, till such I be;
SUCH
Take not my snow-white dress away!
Soon from this dusk of earth I flee,
Up to the glittering lands of day.
There first a little space I rest,
Then wake so glad, to scenes so kind;
In earthly robes no longer drest,
This band, this girdle left behind.
And those calm shining sons of morn,
They ask not who is maid or boy;
No robes, no garments there are worn,
Our body pure from sin's alloy.
Through little life not much I toiled,
Yet anguish long this heart has wrung,
Untimely woe my blossoms spoiled:
Make me again forever young!
## p. 6441 (#423) ###########################################
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6441
PHILINA’S SONG
From Wilhelm Meister's Apprenticeship'
ST
ING me not with such emotion
How the night so lonesome is;
Pretty maids, I've got a notion
It is the reverse of this.
For as wife and man are plighted,
And the better half the wife,
So is night to day united,-
Night's the better half of life.
Can you joy in bustling daytime,-
Day, when none can get his will?
It is good for work, for haytime;
For much other it is ill.
But when in the nightly glooming,
Social lamp on table glows,
Face for faces dear illuming,
And such jest and joyance goes;
When the fiery pert young fellow,
Wont by day to run or ride,
Whispering now some tale would tell O,—
All so gentle by your side;
When the nightingale to lovers
Lovingly her songlet sings,
Which for exiles and sad rovers
Like mere woe and wailing rings;
With a heart how lightsome-feeling
Do ye count the kindly clock,
Which, twelve times deliberate pealing,
Tells you none to-night shall knock!
Therefore, on all fit occasions,
Mark it, maidens, what I sing:
Every day its own vexations,
And the night its joys will bring.
## p. 6442 (#424) ###########################################
6442
GOETHE
B
PROMETHEUS
LACKEN thy heavens, Jove,
With thunder-clouds,
And exercise thee, like a boy
Who thistles crops,
With smiting oaks and mountain-tops:
Yet must leave me standing
My own firm earth;
Must leave my cottage, which thou didst not build,
And my warm hearth,
Whose cheerful glow
Thou enviest me.
I know naught more pitiful
Under the sun, than you, gods!
Ye nourish scantily
With altar taxes
And with cold lip-service,
This your majesty ;-
Would perish, were not
Children and beggars
Credulous fools.
When I was a child,
And knew not whence or whither,
I would turn my 'wildered eye
To the sun, as if up yonder were
An ear to hear to my complaining —
A heart, like mine,
On the oppressed to feel compassion.
Who helped me
When I braved the Titans' insolence?
Who rescued me from death,
From slavery?
Hast thou not all thyself accomplished,
Holy-glowing heart?
And, glowing, young, and good,
Most ignorantly thanked
The slumberer above there?
I honor thee! For what?
Hast thou the miserie's lightened
Of the down-trodden?
## p. 6443 (#425) ###########################################
GOETHE
6443
Hast thou the tears ever banished
From the afflicted?
Have I not to manhood been molded
By omnipotent Time,
And by Fate everlasting,
My lords and thine?
Dreamedst thou ever
I should grow weary of living,
And fly to the desert,
Since not all our
Pretty dream buds ripen?
Here sit I, fashion men
In mine own image,-
A race to be like me,
To weep and to suffer,
To be happy and enjoy themselves,
To be careless of thee too,
As I!
THOU
WANDERER'S NIGHT SONGS
HOU that from the heavens art,
Every pain and sorrow stillest,
And the doubly wretched heart
Doubly with refreshment fillest,
Translation of John S. Dwight.
I am weary with contending!
Why this rapture and unrest?
Peace descending,
Come, ah come into my breast!
O'ER all the hill-tops
Is quiet now,
In all the tree-tops
Hearest thou
Hardly a breath;
The birds are asleep in the trees:
Wait; soon like these
Thou too shalt rest.
Longfellow's Translation. Reprinted by permission of Houghton, Mifflin &
Co. , publishers, Boston
## p. 6444 (#426) ###########################################
6444
GOETHE
THE ELFIN-KING
WHO
HO rides so late through the midnight blast?
'Tis a father spurs on with his child full fast;
He gathers the boy well into his arm,
He clasps him close and he keeps him warm.
་ My son, why thus to my arm dost cling? "
"Father, dost thou not see the elfin-king?
The elfin-king with his crown and train! »–
"My son, 'tis a streak of the misty rain! "
"Come hither, thou darling, come, go with me!
Fine games I know that I'll play with thee;
Flowers many and bright do my kingdoms hold,
My mother has many a robe of gold. »
"O father, dear father, and dost thou not hear
What the elfin-king whispers so low in mine ear? ».
"Calm, calm thee, my boy, it is only the breeze,
As it rustles the withered leaves under the trees. "
"Wilt thou go, benny boy, wilt thou go with me?
My daughters shall wait on thee daintily;
My daughters around thee in dance shall sweep,
And rock thee and kiss thee and sing thee to sleep. "
"O father, dear father, and dost thou not mark
The elf-king's daughters move by in the dark? ».
"I see it, my child; but it is not they,
'Tis the old willow nodding its head so gray. "
"I love thee! thy beauty it charms me so;
And I'll take thee by force, if thou wilt not go! »
"O father, dear father, he's grasping me,-
My heart is as cold as cold can be! "
-
The father rides swiftly,- with terror he gasps,-
The sobbing child in his arms he clasps;
He reaches the castle with spurring and dread;
But alack! in his arms the child lay dead!
Translation of Martin and Aytoun.
## p. 6445 (#427) ###########################################
GOETHE
6445
FROM THE WANDERER'S STORM SONG>
WH
HOм thou desertest not, O Genius.
Neither blinding rain nor storm
Breathes upon his heart a chill.
Whom thou desertest not, O Genius,
To the lowering clouds,
To the beating hail,
He will sing cheerly,
As the lark there,
Thou that soarest.
Whom thou desertest not, O Genius,
Him thou'lt lift o'er miry places
On thy flaming pinions:
He will traverse
As on feet of flowers
Slime of Deucalion's deluge;
Slaying Python, strong, great,
Pythius Apollo!
Whom thou desertest not, O Genius,
Thou wilt spread thy downy wings beneath him,
When he sleeps upon the crags;
Thou wilt cover him with guardian pinions
In the midnight forest depths.
Whom thou desertest not, O Genius,
Thou wilt in whirling snow-storm
Warmly wrap him round;
To the warmth fly the Muses,
To the warmth fly the Graces.
Around me float, ye Muses,
And float, ye Graces!
This is water, this is earth
And the son of water and of earth,
Over whom I wander
Like the gods.
You are pure like the heart of water,
You are pure like the core of earth,
You float around me, and I float
Over water, over earth,
Like the gods.
Translation of Charles Harvey Genung.
## p. 6446 (#428) ###########################################
6446
GOETHE
THE GODLIKE
OBLE be Man,
N°
N Helpful and good!
For that alone
Doth distinguish him.
From all the beings
Which we know.
Hail to the Unknown, the
Higher Beings
Felt within us!
His pattern teach us
Faith in them!
For unfeeling
Is Nature:
Still shineth the sun
Over good and evil;
And to the sinner
Smile, as to the best,
The moon and the stars.
Wind and waters,
Thunder and hailstones,
Rustle on their way,
Smiting down as
They dash along,
One for another.
Just so does Fate
Grope round in the crowd,
Seize now the innocent,
Curly-haired boy,
Now on the old, bald
Crown of the villain.
By great adamantine
Laws everlasting,
Here we must all our
Round of existence
Faithfully finish.
There can none but Man
Perform the Impossible.
He understandeth,
## p. 6447 (#429) ###########################################
GOETHE
6447
O
Chooseth, and judgeth;
He can impart to the
Moment duration.
He alone may
The Good reward,
The Guilty punish,
Mend and deliver;
All the wayward, anomalous
Bind in the Useful.
And the Immortals -
Them we reverence,
As if they were men, and
Did, on a grand scale,
What the best man in little
Does, or fain would do.
Let noble Man
Be helpful and good!
Ever creating
The Right and the Useful-
Type of those loftier
Beings of whom the heart whispers!
Translation of John S. Dwight.
SOLITUDE
YE kindly nymphs, who dwell 'mongst the rocks and the
thickets,
Grant unto each whatsoever he may in silence desire!
Comfort impart to the mourner, and give to the doubter instruction,
And let the lover rejoice, finding the bliss that he craves.
For from the gods ye received what they ever denied unto mortals,
Power to comfort and aid all who in you may confide.
Translation of E. A. Bowring.
## p. 6448 (#430) ###########################################
6448
GOETHE
ERGO BIBAMUS!
F
OR a praiseworthy object we're now gathered here,
So, brethren, sing Ergo bibamus!
Though talk may be hushed, yet the glasses ring clear:
Remember then, Ergo bibamus!
In truth 'tis an old, 'tis an excellent word;
With its sound so befitting each bosom is stirred,
And an echo the festal hall filling is heard,
A glorious Ergo bibamus!
I saw mine own love in her beauty so rare,
And bethought me of Ergo bibamus;
So I gently approached, and she let me stand there,
While I helped myself, thinking, Bibamus!
And when she's appeared, and will clasp you and kiss,
Or when those embraces and kisses ye miss,
Take refuge, till found is some worthier bliss,
In the comforting Ergo bibamus!
I am called by my fate far away from each friend;
Ye loved ones, then, Ergo bibamus!
With wallet light-laden from hence I must wend,
So double our Ergo bibamus!
Whate'er to his treasure the niggard may add,
Yet regard for the joyous will ever be had,
For gladness lends ever its charms to the glad,
So, brethren, sing: Ergo bibamus!
And what shall we say of to-day as it flies?
I thought but of Ergo bibamus!
'Tis one of those truly that seldom arise,
So again and again sing Bibamus!
For joy through a wide-open portal it guides,
Bright glitter the clouds as the curtain divides,
And a form, a divine one, to greet us in glides,
While we thunder our Ergo bibamus.
Translation of E. A. Bowring.
## p. 6449 (#431) ###########################################
GOETHE
6449
ALEXIS AND DORA
F
ARTHER and farther away, alas! at each moment the vessel
Hastens, as onward it glides, cleaving the foam-covered flood!
Long is the track plowed up by the keel where dolphins are
sporting,
Following fast in its rear, while it seems flying pursuit.
All forebodes a prosperous voyage; the sailor with calmness
Leans 'gainst the sail, which alone all that is needed performs.
Forward presses the heart of each seaman, like colors and streamers;
Backward one only is seen, mournfully fixed near the mast,
While on the blue-tinged mountains, which fast are receding, he
gazeth,
And as they sink in the sea, joy from his bosom departs.
Vanished from thee, too, O Dora, is now the vessel that robs thee
Of thine Alexis, thy friend,-ah, thy betrothed as well!
Thou, too, art after me gazing in vain. Our hearts are still throb-
bing,
Though for each other, yet ah! 'gainst one another no more.
O thou single moment, wherein I found life! thou outweighest
Every day which had else coldly from memory fled.
'Twas in that moment alone, the last, that upon me descended
Life such as deities grant, though thou perceivèdst it not.
Phœbus, in vain with thy rays dost thou clothe the ether in glory:
Thine all-brightening day hateful alone is to me.
Into myself I retreat for shelter, and there in the silence
Strive to recover the time when she appeared with each day.
Was it possible beauty like this to see, and not feel it?
Worked not those heavenly charms e'en on a mind dull as thine?
Blame not thyself, unhappy one! Oft doth the bard an enigma
Thus propose to the throng, skillfully hidden in words;
Each one enjoys the strange commingling of images graceful,
Yet still is wanting the word which will discover the sense.
When at length it is found, the heart of each hearer is gladdened,
And in the poem he sees meaning of twofold delight.
Wherefore so late didst thou remove the bandage, O Amor,
Which thou hadst placed o'er mine eyes, wherefore remove it so
late?
Long did the vessel, when laden, lie waiting for favoring breezes,
Till in kindness the wind blew from the land o'er the sea.
Vacant times of youth! and vacant dreams of the future!
Ye all vanish, and naught, saving the moment, remains.
Yes! it remains,-my joy still remains! I hold thee, my Dora,
And thine image alone, Dora, by hope is disclosed.
--
XI-404
## p. 6450 (#432) ###########################################
6450
GOETHE
Oft have I seen thee go, with modesty clad, to the temple,
While thy mother so dear solemnly went by thy side.
Eager and nimble thou wert, in bearing thy fruit to the market,
Boldly the pail from the well didst thou sustain on thy head.
Then was revealed thy neck, then seen thy shoulders so beauteous,
Then, before all things, the grace filling thy motions was seen.
Oft have I feared that the pitcher perchance was in danger of
falling,
Yet it ever remained firm on the circular cloth.
Thus, fair neighbor, yes, thus I oft was won to observe thee,
As on the stars I might gaze, as I might gaze on the moon;
Glad indeed at the sight, yet feeling within my calm bosom
Not the remotest desire ever to call them mine own.
Years thus fleeted away! Although our houses were only
Twenty paces apart, yet I thy threshold ne'er crossed.
Now by the fearful flood are we parted! Thou liest to Heaven,
Billow! thy beautiful blue seems to me dark as the night.
All were now in movement: a boy to the house of my father
Ran at full speed and exclaimed, "Hasten thee quick to the strand!
Hoisted the sail is already, e'en now in the wind it is fluttering,
While the anchor they weigh, heaving it up from the sand;
Come, Alexis, oh come! "- My worthy stout-hearted father
Pressed, with a blessing, his hand down on my curly-locked head,
While my mother carefully reached me a newly made bundle;
"Happy mayst thou return! " cried they-"both happy and rich! "
Then I sprang away, and under my arm held the bundle,
Running along by the wall. Standing I found thee hard by,
At the door of thy garden. Thou smilingly saidst then, "Alexis!
Say, are yon boisterous crew going thy comrades to be?
Foreign coasts wilt thou visit, and precious merchandise purchase,
Ornaments meet for the rich matrons who dwell in the town;
Bring me also, I pray thee, a light chain; gladly I'll pay thee,
Oft have I wished to possess some such a trinket as that. "
There I remained, and asked, as merchants are wont, with precision
After the form and the weight which thy commission should have.
Modest indeed was the price thou didst name! I meanwhile was
gazing
On thy neck, which deserved ornaments worn but by queens.
Loudly now rose the cry from the ship; then kindly thou spakest:-
"Take, I entreat thee, some fruit out of the garden, my friend!
Take the ripest oranges, figs of the whitest; the ocean
Beareth no fruit, and in truth, 'tis not produced by each land. "
So I entered in. Thou pluckedst the fruit from the branches,
And the burden of gold was in thine apron upheld.
-
## p. 6451 (#433) ###########################################
GOETHE
6451
Oft did I cry, Enough! But fairer fruits were still falling
Into thy hand as I spake, ever obeying thy touch.
Presently didst thou reach the arbor; there lay there a basket,
Sweet blooming myrtle-trees waved, as we drew nigh, o'er our
heads.
Then thou began'st to arrange the fruit with skill and in silence:
First the orange, which heavy as though 'twere of gold,
Then the yielding fig, by the slightest pressure disfigured,
And with myrtle, the gift soon was both covered and graced.
But I raised it not up. I stood. Our eyes met together,
And my eyesight grew dim, seeming obscured by a film.
Soon I felt thy bosom on mine! Mine arm was soon twining
Round thy beautiful form; thousand times kissed I thy neck.
On my shoulder sank thy head; thy fair arms, encircling,
Soon rendered perfect the ring knitting a rapturous pair.
Amor's hands I felt; he pressed us together with ardor,
And from the firmament clear, thrice did it thunder; then tears
Streamed from mine eyes in torrents, thou weptest, I wept, both
were weeping,
And 'mid our sorrow and bliss, even the world seemed to die.
Louder and louder they called from the strand; my feet would no
longer
Bear my weight, and I cried:- "Dora! and art thou not mine? »
"Thine forever! " thou gently didst say. Then the tears we were
shedding
Seemed to be wiped from our eyes, as by the breath of a god.
Nearer was heard the cry "Alexis! " The stripling who sought me
Suddenly peeped through the door. How he the basket snatched
up!
How he urged me away! how pressed I thy hand! Dost thou ask
me
How the vessel I reached? Drunken I seemed, well I know,
Drunken my shipmates believed me, and so had pity upon me;
And as the breeze drove us on, distance the town soon obscured.
"Thine forever! " thou, Dora, didst murmur; it fell on my senses
With the thunder of Zeus! while by the thunderer's throne
Stood his daughter, the goddess of Love; the Graces were standing
Close by her side! so the bond beareth an impress divine!
Oh then hasten, thou ship, with every favoring zephyr!
Onward, thou powerful keel, cleaving the waves as they foam!
Bring me unto the foreign harbor, so that the goldsmith
May in his workshop prepare straightway the heavenly pledge!
Ay, of a truth, the chain shall indeed be a chain, O my Dora!
Nine times encircling thy neck, loosely around it entwined.
## p. 6452 (#434) ###########################################
6452
GOETHE
Other and manifold trinkets I'll buy thee; gold-mounted bracelets,
Richly and skillfully wrought, also shall grace thy fair hand.
There shall the ruby and emerald vie, the sapphire so lovely
Be to the jacinth opposed, seeming its foil; while the gold
Holds all the jewels together, in beauteous union commingled.
Oh, how the bridegroom exults, when he adorns his betrothed!
Pearls if I see, of thee they remind me; each ring that is shown me
Brings to my mind thy fair hand's graceful and tapering form.
I will barter and buy; the fairest of all shalt thou choose thee;
Joyously would I devote all of the cargo to thee.
Yet not trinkets and jewels alone is thy loved one procuring;
With them he brings thee whate'er gives to a housewife delight:
Fine and woolen coverlets, wrought with an edging of purple,
Fit for a couch where we both, lovingly, gently may rest;
Costly pieces of linen. Thou sittest and sewest, and clothest
Me, and thyself, and perchance even a third with it too.
is now poor in goods and favor, and a stranger in the scene
which from youth he had looked upon as his inheritance. His
temper here assumes its first mournful tinge. He feels that now
## p. 6430 (#412) ###########################################
6430
GOETHE
he is not more, that he is less, than a private nobleman; he
offers himself as the servant of every one; he is not courteous
and condescending, he is needy and degraded.
"His past condition he remembers as a vanished dream. It
is in vain that his uncle strives to cheer him, to present his sit-
uation in another point of view. The feeling of his nothingness
will not leave him.
"The second stroke that came upon him wounded deeper,
bowed still more. It was the marriage of his mother. The
faithful tender son had yet a mother, when his father passed
away. He hoped in the company of his surviving, noble-minded
parent, to reverence the heroic form of the departed; but his
mother too he loses, and it is something worse than death that
robs him of her. The trustful image which a good child loves
to form of its parents is gone. With the dead there is no help;
on the living no hold. She also is a woman, and her name is
Frailty, like that of all her sex.
"Now first does he feel himself completely bent and orphaned;
and no happiness of life can repay what he has lost. Not reflect-
ive or sorrowful by nature, reflection and sorrow have become
for him a heavy obligation. It is thus that we see him first enter
on the scene. I do not think that I have mixed aught foreign
with the piece, or overcharged a single feature of it. "
Serlo looked at his sister and said, "Did I give thee a false
picture of our friend? He begins well; he has still many things
to tell us, many to persuade us of. " Wilhelm asseverated loudly
that he meant not to persuade but to convince; he begged for
another moment's patience.
"Figure to yourselves this youth," cried he, "this son of
princes; conceive him vividly, bring his state before your eyes,
and then observe him when he learns that his father's spirit
walks; stand by him in the terrors of the night, when the ven-
erable ghost itself appears before him. A horrid shudder passes
over him; he speaks to the mysterious form; he sees it beckon
him; he follows it, and hears. The fearful accusation of his
uncle rings in his ears; the summons to revenge, and the pier-
cing oft-repeated prayer, Remember me!
"And when the ghost has vanished, who is it that stands be-
fore us? A young hero panting for vengeance? A prince by
birth, rejoicing to be called to punish the usurper of his crown?
No! trouble and astonishment take hold of the solitary young
## p. 6431 (#413) ###########################################
GOETHE
6431
man; he grows bitter against smiling villains, swears that he will
not forget the spirit, and concludes with the significant ejacula-
tion:
«The time is out of joint: O cursed spite,
That ever I was born to set it right! '
"In these words, I imagine, will be found the key to Hamlet's
whole procedure. To me it is clear that Shakespeare meant, in
the present case, to represent the effects of a great action laid
upon a soul unfit for the performance of it. In this view the
whole piece seems to me to be composed. There is an oak-tree
planted in a costly jar, which should have borne only pleasant
flowers in its bosom; the roots expand, the jar is shivered.
"A lovely, pure, noble, and most moral nature, without the
strength of nerve which forms a hero, sinks beneath a burden
which it cannot bear and must not cast away. All duties are
holy for him; the present is too hard. Impossibilities have been
required of him, not in themselves impossibilities, but such for
him. He winds, and turns, and torments himself; he advances
and recoils; is ever put in mind, ever puts himself in mind; at
last does all but lose his purpose from his thoughts; yet still
without recovering his peace of mind. "
Aurelia seemed to give but little heed to what was passing;
at last she conducted Wilhelm to another room, and going to the
window, and looking out at the starry sky she said to him, “You
have still much to tell us about Hamlet; I will not hurry you;
my brother must hear it as well as I; but let me beg to know
your thoughts about Ophelia. "
>>>>
"Of her there cannot much be said," he answered; "for a few
master strokes complete her character. The whole being of
Ophelia floats in sweet and ripe sensation. Kindness for the
Prince, to whose hand she may aspire, flows so spontaneously,
her tender heart obeys its impulses so unresistingly, that both
father and brother are afraid; both give her warning harshly and
directly. Decorum, like the thin lawn upon her bosom, cannot
hide the soft, still movements of her heart; it on the contrary
betrays them. Her fancy is smit; her silent modesty breathes
amiable desire; and if the friendly goddess Opportunity should
shake the tree, its fruit would fall. "
"And then," said Aurelia, "when she beholds herself forsaken,
cast away, despised; when all is inverted in the soul of her crazed
## p. 6432 (#414) ###########################################
6432
GOETHE
lover, and the highest changes to the lowest, and instead of the
sweet cup of love he offers her the bitter cup of woe - ”
"Her heart breaks," cried Wilhelm; "the whole structure of
her being is loosened from its joinings; her father's death strikes
fiercely against it; and the fair edifice altogether crumbles into
fragments. "
Serlo, at this moment entering, inquired about his sister; and
looking in the book which our friend had hold of, cried, "So
you are again at 'Hamlet'? Very good! Many doubts have
arisen in me, which seem not a little to impair the canonical
aspect of the piece as you would have it viewed. The English
themselves have admitted that its chief interest concludes with
the third act; the last two lagging sorrily on, and scarcely unit-
ing with the rest: and certainly about the end it seems to stand
stock still. "
"It is very possible," said Wilhelm, "that some individuals of
a nation which has so many masterpieces to feel proud of, may
be led by prejudice and narrowness of mind to form false judg
ments; but this cannot hinder us from looking with our own
eyes, and doing justice where we see it due. I am very far
from censuring the plan of 'Hamlet': on the other hand, I be-
lieve there never was a grander one invented; nay, it is not
invented, it is real. "
"How do you demonstrate that? " inquired Serlo.
"I will not demonstrate anything," said Wilhelm; "I will
merely show you what my own conceptions of it are. "
Aurelia rose up from her cushion, leaned upon her hand, and
looked at Wilhelm; who, with the firmest assurance that he was
in the right, went on as follows:
"It pleases us, it flatters us to see a hero acting on his own
strength; loving and hating as his heart directs him; undertaking
and completing; casting every obstacle aside; and at length at-
taining some great object which he aimed at. Poets and histo-
rians would willingly persuade us that so proud a lot may fall to
man. In 'Hamlet' we are taught another lesson: the hero is
without a plan, but the piece is full of plan. Here we have no
villain punished on some self-conceived and rigidly accomplished
scheme of vengeance: a horrid deed occurs; it rolls itself along
with all its consequences, dragging guiltless persons also in its
course; the perpetrator seems as if he would evade the abyss
which is made ready for him, yet he plunges in, at the very
―――――
0
•
P
in
## p. 6433 (#415) ###########################################
GOETHE
6433
point by which he thinks he shall escape and happily complete
his course.
"For it is the property of crime to extend its mischief over
innocence, as it is of virtue to extend its blessings over many
that deserve them not; while frequently the author of the one or
of the other is not punished or rewarded at all. Here in this
play of ours, how strange! The Pit of Darkness sends its spirit
and demands revenge; in vain! All circumstances tend one
way, and hurry to revenge; in vain! Neither earthly nor infer-
nal thing may bring about what is reserved for Fate alone. The
hour of judgment comes: the wicked falls with the good; one
race is mowed away, that another may spring up. "
After a pause, in which they looked at one another, Serlo
said: "You pay no great compliment to Providence, in thus
exalting Shakespeare; and besides, it appears to me that for the
honor of your poet, as others for the honor of Providence, you
ascribe to him an object and a plan which he himself had never
thought of. "
"Let me also put a question," said Aurelia. "I have looked
at Ophelia's part again; I am contented with it, and conceive.
that under certain circumstances I could play it.
But tell me,
should not the poet have furnished the insane maiden with
another sort of songs? Could not one select some fragments out
of melancholy ballads for this purpose? What have double
meanings and lascivious insipidities to do in the mouth of such a
noble-minded person? "
"Dear friend," said Wilhelm, "even here I cannot yield you
one iota.
In these singularities, in this apparent impropriety, a
deep sense is hid. Do we not understand from the very first
what the mind of the good soft-hearted girl was busied with?
Silently she lived within herself, yet she scarce concealed her
wishes, her longing; the tones of desire were in secret ringing
through her soul; and how often may she have attempted, like
an unskillful nurse, to lull her senses to repose with songs
which only kept them more awake? But at last, when her self-
command is altogether gone, when the secrets of her heart are
hovering on her tongue, that tongue betrays her; and in the
innocence of insanity she solaces herself, unmindful of king or
queen, with the echo of her loose and well-beloved songs, 'To-
morrow is Saint Valentine's Day,' and 'By Gis and by Saint
Charity. '
XI-403
## p. 6434 (#416) ###########################################
6434
GOETHE
"I am much mistaken," cried he, "if I have not now dis-
covered how the whole is to be managed; nay, I am convinced
that Shakespeare himself would have arranged it so, had not
his mind been too exclusively directed to the ruling interest, and
perhaps misled by the novels which furnished him with his
materials. »
"Let us hear," said Serlo, placing himself with an air of
solemnity upon the sofa; "I will listen calmly, but judge with
rigor. »
"I am not afraid of you," said Wilhelm; "only hear me. In
the composition of this play, after the most accurate investiga-
tion and the most mature reflection, I distinguish two classes of
objects. The first are the grand internal relations of the persons
and events, the powerful effects which arise from the characters
and proceedings of the main figures: these, I hold, are individ-
ually excellent, and the order in which they are presented can-
not be improved. No kind of interference must be suffered to
destroy them, or even essentially to change their form. These
are the things which stamp themselves deep into the soul;
which all men long to see, which no one dares to meddle with.
Accordingly, I understand, they have almost wholly been retained.
in all our German theatres.
"But our countrymen have erred, in my opinion, with regard
to the second class of objects which may be observed in this
tragedy: I allude to the external relations of the persons, where-
by they are brought from place to place, or combined in vari-
ous ways by certain accidental incidents. These they have looked
upon as very unimportant; have spoken of them only in passing,
or left them out altogether. Now indeed it must be owned
that these threads are slack and slender; yet they run through
the entire piece, and bind together much that would otherwise
fall asunder, and does actually fall asunder when you cut them
off, and imagine you have done enough and more if you have
left the ends hanging.
"Among these external relations I include the disturbances
in Norway, the war with young Fortinbras, the embassy to his
uncle, the settling of that feud, the march of young Fortinbras
to Poland, and his coming back at the end; of the same sort are
Horatio's return from Wittenberg, Hamlet's wish to go thither,
the journey of Laertes to France, his return, the dispatch of
Hamlet into England, his capture by pirates, the death of the
I
I
## p. 6435 (#417) ###########################################
GOETHE
6435
two courtiers by the letter which they carried. All these circum-
stances and events would be very fit for expanding and length.
ening a novel; but here they injure exceedingly the unity of
the piece, particularly as the hero had no plan,- and are in
consequence entirely out of place. "
"For once in the right! " cried Serlo.
"Do not interrupt me," answered Wilhelm; "perhaps you
will not always think me right. These errors are like temporary
props of an edifice; they must not be removed till we have built
a firm wall in their stead. My project therefore is, not at all to
change those first-mentioned grand situations, or at least as much
as possible to spare them, both collectively and individually; but
with respect to these external, single, dissipated, and dissipating
motives, to cast them all at once away, and substitute a solitary
one instead of them. "
"And this? " inquired Serlo, springing up from his recumbent
posture.
"It lies in the piece itself," answered Wilhelm, "only I em-
ploy it rightly. There are disturbances in Norway. You shall
hear my plan and try it.
"After the death of Hamlet the father, the Norwegians, lately
conquered, grow unruly. The viceroy of that country sends his
son Horatio, an old school friend of Hamlet's, and distinguished
above every other for his bravery and prudence, to Denmark, to
press forward the equipment of the fleet, which under the new
luxurious King proceeds but slowly. Horatio has known the
former King, having fought in his battles, having even stood in
favor with him; a circumstance by which the first ghost scene
will be nothing injured. The new sovereign gives Horatio audi-
ence, and sends Laertes into Norway with intelligence that the
fleet will soon arrive, whilst Horatio is commissioned to acceler-
ate the preparation of it; and the Queen, on the other hand, will
not consent that Hamlet, as he wishes, should go to sea along
with him. "
-
"Heaven be praised! " cried Serlo; "we shall now get rid of
Wittenberg and the university, which was always a sorry piece
of business. I think your idea extremely good: for except these
two distant objects, Norway and the fleet, the spectator will not
be required to fancy anything: the rest he will see; the rest takes
place before him; whereas his imagination, on the other plan, was
hunted over all the world. "
## p. 6436 (#418) ###########################################
6436
GOETHE
"You easily perceive," said Wilhelm, "how I shall contrive to
keep the other parts together. When Hamlet tells Horatio of
his uncle's crime, Horatio counsels him to go to Norway in his
company, to secure the affections of the army, and return in war-
like force. Hamlet also is becoming dangerous to the King and
Queen; they find no readier method of deliverance than to send
him in the fleet, with Rosencrantz and Guildenstern to be spies
upon him: and as Laertes in the mean time comes from France,
they determine that this youth, exasperated even to murder,
shall go after him. Unfavorable winds detain the fleet; Hamlet
returns: for his wandering through the church-yard perhaps some.
lucky motive may be thought of; his meeting with Laertes in
Ophelia's grave is a grand moment, which we must not part
with. After this, the King resolves that it is better to get quit
of Hamlet on the spot: the festival of his departure, the pre-
tended reconcilement with Laertes, are now solemnized; on
which occasion knightly sports are held, and Laertes fights with
Hamlet. Without the four corpses I cannot end the piece; not
one of them can possibly be left. The right of popular election
now again comes in force, and Hamlet gives his dying voice for
Horatio. "
"Quick! quick! " said Serlo; "sit down and work the piece;
your plan has my entire approbation; only do not let your zeal
for it evaporate.
Wilhelm had already been for some time busied with trans-
lating Hamlet; making use, as he labored, of Wieland's spirited
performance, by means of which he had first become acquainted
with Shakespeare. What in Wieland's work had been omitted he
replaced; and he had at length procured himself a complete ver-
sion, at the very time when Serlo and he finally agreed about
the way of treating it. He now began, according to his plan, to
cut out and insert, to separate and unite, to alter and often to
restore; for satisfied as he was with his own conception, it still
appeared to him as if in executing it he were but spoiling the
original.
So soon
as all was finished, he read his work to Serlo and
the rest. They declared themselves exceedingly contented with
it; Serlo in particular made many flattering observations.
"You have felt very justly," said he, among other things,
"that some external circumstances must accompany this piece;
but that they must be simpler than those which the great poet
## p. 6437 (#419) ###########################################
GOETHE
6437
has employed. What takes place without the theatre what the
spectator does not see, but must imagine for himself-is like a
background, in front of which the acting figures move. Your
large and simple prospect of the fleet and Norway will very
much improve the piece; if this were altogether taken from it,
we should have but a family scene remaining; and the great
idea, that here a kingly house by internal crimes and incongru-
ities goes down to ruin, would not be presented with its proper
dignity. But if the former background were left standing, so
manifold, so fluctuating and confused, it would hurt the impres-
sion of the figures. "
Wilhelm again took Shakespeare's part: alleging that he wrote
for islanders, for Englishmen, who generally, in the distance,
were accustomed to see little else than ships and voyages, the
coast of France and privateers; and thus what perplexed and
distracted others was to them quite natural.
Serlo assented; and both of them were of opinion that as the
piece was now to be produced upon the German stage, this more
serious and simple background was the best adapted for the Ger-
man mind.
The parts had been distributed before: Serlo undertook Polo-
nius; Aurelia undertook Ophelia; Laertes was already designated
by his name; a young, thick-set, jolly new-comer was to be
Horatio; the King and the Ghost alone occasioned some perplex-
ity. For both of these was no one but Old Boisterous remaining.
Serlo proposed to make the Pedant King; but against this our
friend protested in the strongest terms. They could resolve on
nothing.
Wilhelm also had allowed both Rosencrantz and Guildenstern
to continue in his piece. "Why not compress them into one? »
said Serlo. "This abbreviation will not cost you much. "
"Heaven keep me from such curtailments! " answered Wil-
helm; "they destroy at once the sense and the effect. What
these two persons are and do it is impossible to represent by
one. In such small matters we discover Shakespeare's greatness.
These soft approaches, this smirking and bowing, this assenting,
wheedling, flattering, this whisking agility, this wagging of the
tail, this allness and emptiness, this legal knavery, this ineptitude
and insipidity,- how can they be expressed by a single man?
There ought to be at least a dozen of these people if they could
be had, for it is only in society that they are anything; they are
## p. 6438 (#420) ###########################################
6438
GOETHE
society itself; and Shakespeare showed no little wisdom and dis
cernment in bringing in a pair of them. Besides, I need them
as a couple that may be contrasted with the single, noble, excel-
lent Horatio. "
THE INDENTURE
From Wilhelm Meister's Apprenticeship'
Α
RT is long, life short, judgment difficult, opportunity transient.
To act is easy, to think is hard; to act according to our
thought is troublesome. Every beginning is cheerful; the
threshold is the place of expectation. The boy stands astonished,
his impressions guide him; he learns sportfully, seriousness comes
on him by surprise. Imitation is born with us; what should be
imitated is not easy to discover. The excellent is rarely found,
more rarely valued. The height charms us, the steps to it do
not; with the summit in our eye, we love to walk along the
plain. It is but a part of art that can be taught; the artist
needs it all. Who knows it half, speaks much and is always
wrong; who knows it wholly, inclines to act and speaks seldom
or late.
The former have no secrets and no force; the instruc-
tion they can give is like baked bread, savory and satisfying for
a single day; but flour cannot be sown, and seed corn ought not
to be ground. Words are good, but they are not the best. The
best is not to be explained by words. The spirit in which we act
is the highest matter. Action can be understood and again rep-
resented by the spirit alone. No one knows what he is doing
while he acts aright; but of what is wrong we are always con-
scious. Whoever works with symbols only is a pedant, a hypo-
crite, or a bungler. There are many such, and they like to be
together. Their babbling detains the scholar; their obstinate
mediocrity vexes even the best. The instruction which the true
artist gives us opens the mind; for where words fail him, deeds.
speak. The true scholar learns from the known to unfold the
unknown, and approaches more and more to being a master.
## p. 6439 (#421) ###########################################
GOETHE
6439
THE HARPER'S SONGS
From 'Wilhelm Meister's Apprenticeship'
HAT notes are those without the wall,
"WHAT Across the portal sounding?
Let's have the music in our hall,
Back from its roof rebounding. "
So spoke the king: the henchman flies;
His answer heard, the monarch cries,
«< Bring in that ancient minstrel. »
"Hail, gracious king, each noble knight!
Each lovely dame, I greet you!
What glittering stars salute my sight!
What heart unmoved may meet you!
Such lordly pomp is not for me,
Far other scenes my eyes must see:
Yet deign to list my harping. "
The singer turns him to his art,
A thrilling strain he raises;
Each warrior hears with glowing heart
And on his loved one gazes.
The king, who liked his playing well,
Commands, for such a kindly spell,
A golden chain be given him.
"The golden chain give not to me:
Thy boldest knight may wear it,
Who 'cross the battle's purple sea
On lion breast may bear it;
Or let it be thy chancellor's prize,
Amid his heaps to feast his eyes,-
Its yellow glance will please him.
"I sing but as the linnet sings,
That on the green bough dwelleth;
A rich reward his music brings,
As from his throat it swelleth :
Yet might I ask, I'd ask of thine
One sparkling draught of purest wine
To drink it here before you. "
He viewed the wine, he quaffed it up:
"O draught of sweetest savor!
## p. 6440 (#422) ###########################################
6440
GOETHE
O happy house, where such a cup
Is thought a little favor!
If well you fare, remember me,
And thank kind Heaven, from envy free,
As now for this I thank you. "
WHO never ate his bread in sorrow,
Who never spent the darksome hours
Weeping and watching for the morrow,-
He knows ye not, ye gloomy Powers.
To earth, this weary earth, ye bring us,
To guilt ye let us heedless go,
Then leave repentance fierce to wring us;
A moment's guilt, an age of woe!
MIGNON'S SONG
From Wilhelm Meister's Apprenticeship'
UCH let me seem, till such I be;
SUCH
Take not my snow-white dress away!
Soon from this dusk of earth I flee,
Up to the glittering lands of day.
There first a little space I rest,
Then wake so glad, to scenes so kind;
In earthly robes no longer drest,
This band, this girdle left behind.
And those calm shining sons of morn,
They ask not who is maid or boy;
No robes, no garments there are worn,
Our body pure from sin's alloy.
Through little life not much I toiled,
Yet anguish long this heart has wrung,
Untimely woe my blossoms spoiled:
Make me again forever young!
## p. 6441 (#423) ###########################################
GOETHE
6441
PHILINA’S SONG
From Wilhelm Meister's Apprenticeship'
ST
ING me not with such emotion
How the night so lonesome is;
Pretty maids, I've got a notion
It is the reverse of this.
For as wife and man are plighted,
And the better half the wife,
So is night to day united,-
Night's the better half of life.
Can you joy in bustling daytime,-
Day, when none can get his will?
It is good for work, for haytime;
For much other it is ill.
But when in the nightly glooming,
Social lamp on table glows,
Face for faces dear illuming,
And such jest and joyance goes;
When the fiery pert young fellow,
Wont by day to run or ride,
Whispering now some tale would tell O,—
All so gentle by your side;
When the nightingale to lovers
Lovingly her songlet sings,
Which for exiles and sad rovers
Like mere woe and wailing rings;
With a heart how lightsome-feeling
Do ye count the kindly clock,
Which, twelve times deliberate pealing,
Tells you none to-night shall knock!
Therefore, on all fit occasions,
Mark it, maidens, what I sing:
Every day its own vexations,
And the night its joys will bring.
## p. 6442 (#424) ###########################################
6442
GOETHE
B
PROMETHEUS
LACKEN thy heavens, Jove,
With thunder-clouds,
And exercise thee, like a boy
Who thistles crops,
With smiting oaks and mountain-tops:
Yet must leave me standing
My own firm earth;
Must leave my cottage, which thou didst not build,
And my warm hearth,
Whose cheerful glow
Thou enviest me.
I know naught more pitiful
Under the sun, than you, gods!
Ye nourish scantily
With altar taxes
And with cold lip-service,
This your majesty ;-
Would perish, were not
Children and beggars
Credulous fools.
When I was a child,
And knew not whence or whither,
I would turn my 'wildered eye
To the sun, as if up yonder were
An ear to hear to my complaining —
A heart, like mine,
On the oppressed to feel compassion.
Who helped me
When I braved the Titans' insolence?
Who rescued me from death,
From slavery?
Hast thou not all thyself accomplished,
Holy-glowing heart?
And, glowing, young, and good,
Most ignorantly thanked
The slumberer above there?
I honor thee! For what?
Hast thou the miserie's lightened
Of the down-trodden?
## p. 6443 (#425) ###########################################
GOETHE
6443
Hast thou the tears ever banished
From the afflicted?
Have I not to manhood been molded
By omnipotent Time,
And by Fate everlasting,
My lords and thine?
Dreamedst thou ever
I should grow weary of living,
And fly to the desert,
Since not all our
Pretty dream buds ripen?
Here sit I, fashion men
In mine own image,-
A race to be like me,
To weep and to suffer,
To be happy and enjoy themselves,
To be careless of thee too,
As I!
THOU
WANDERER'S NIGHT SONGS
HOU that from the heavens art,
Every pain and sorrow stillest,
And the doubly wretched heart
Doubly with refreshment fillest,
Translation of John S. Dwight.
I am weary with contending!
Why this rapture and unrest?
Peace descending,
Come, ah come into my breast!
O'ER all the hill-tops
Is quiet now,
In all the tree-tops
Hearest thou
Hardly a breath;
The birds are asleep in the trees:
Wait; soon like these
Thou too shalt rest.
Longfellow's Translation. Reprinted by permission of Houghton, Mifflin &
Co. , publishers, Boston
## p. 6444 (#426) ###########################################
6444
GOETHE
THE ELFIN-KING
WHO
HO rides so late through the midnight blast?
'Tis a father spurs on with his child full fast;
He gathers the boy well into his arm,
He clasps him close and he keeps him warm.
་ My son, why thus to my arm dost cling? "
"Father, dost thou not see the elfin-king?
The elfin-king with his crown and train! »–
"My son, 'tis a streak of the misty rain! "
"Come hither, thou darling, come, go with me!
Fine games I know that I'll play with thee;
Flowers many and bright do my kingdoms hold,
My mother has many a robe of gold. »
"O father, dear father, and dost thou not hear
What the elfin-king whispers so low in mine ear? ».
"Calm, calm thee, my boy, it is only the breeze,
As it rustles the withered leaves under the trees. "
"Wilt thou go, benny boy, wilt thou go with me?
My daughters shall wait on thee daintily;
My daughters around thee in dance shall sweep,
And rock thee and kiss thee and sing thee to sleep. "
"O father, dear father, and dost thou not mark
The elf-king's daughters move by in the dark? ».
"I see it, my child; but it is not they,
'Tis the old willow nodding its head so gray. "
"I love thee! thy beauty it charms me so;
And I'll take thee by force, if thou wilt not go! »
"O father, dear father, he's grasping me,-
My heart is as cold as cold can be! "
-
The father rides swiftly,- with terror he gasps,-
The sobbing child in his arms he clasps;
He reaches the castle with spurring and dread;
But alack! in his arms the child lay dead!
Translation of Martin and Aytoun.
## p. 6445 (#427) ###########################################
GOETHE
6445
FROM THE WANDERER'S STORM SONG>
WH
HOм thou desertest not, O Genius.
Neither blinding rain nor storm
Breathes upon his heart a chill.
Whom thou desertest not, O Genius,
To the lowering clouds,
To the beating hail,
He will sing cheerly,
As the lark there,
Thou that soarest.
Whom thou desertest not, O Genius,
Him thou'lt lift o'er miry places
On thy flaming pinions:
He will traverse
As on feet of flowers
Slime of Deucalion's deluge;
Slaying Python, strong, great,
Pythius Apollo!
Whom thou desertest not, O Genius,
Thou wilt spread thy downy wings beneath him,
When he sleeps upon the crags;
Thou wilt cover him with guardian pinions
In the midnight forest depths.
Whom thou desertest not, O Genius,
Thou wilt in whirling snow-storm
Warmly wrap him round;
To the warmth fly the Muses,
To the warmth fly the Graces.
Around me float, ye Muses,
And float, ye Graces!
This is water, this is earth
And the son of water and of earth,
Over whom I wander
Like the gods.
You are pure like the heart of water,
You are pure like the core of earth,
You float around me, and I float
Over water, over earth,
Like the gods.
Translation of Charles Harvey Genung.
## p. 6446 (#428) ###########################################
6446
GOETHE
THE GODLIKE
OBLE be Man,
N°
N Helpful and good!
For that alone
Doth distinguish him.
From all the beings
Which we know.
Hail to the Unknown, the
Higher Beings
Felt within us!
His pattern teach us
Faith in them!
For unfeeling
Is Nature:
Still shineth the sun
Over good and evil;
And to the sinner
Smile, as to the best,
The moon and the stars.
Wind and waters,
Thunder and hailstones,
Rustle on their way,
Smiting down as
They dash along,
One for another.
Just so does Fate
Grope round in the crowd,
Seize now the innocent,
Curly-haired boy,
Now on the old, bald
Crown of the villain.
By great adamantine
Laws everlasting,
Here we must all our
Round of existence
Faithfully finish.
There can none but Man
Perform the Impossible.
He understandeth,
## p. 6447 (#429) ###########################################
GOETHE
6447
O
Chooseth, and judgeth;
He can impart to the
Moment duration.
He alone may
The Good reward,
The Guilty punish,
Mend and deliver;
All the wayward, anomalous
Bind in the Useful.
And the Immortals -
Them we reverence,
As if they were men, and
Did, on a grand scale,
What the best man in little
Does, or fain would do.
Let noble Man
Be helpful and good!
Ever creating
The Right and the Useful-
Type of those loftier
Beings of whom the heart whispers!
Translation of John S. Dwight.
SOLITUDE
YE kindly nymphs, who dwell 'mongst the rocks and the
thickets,
Grant unto each whatsoever he may in silence desire!
Comfort impart to the mourner, and give to the doubter instruction,
And let the lover rejoice, finding the bliss that he craves.
For from the gods ye received what they ever denied unto mortals,
Power to comfort and aid all who in you may confide.
Translation of E. A. Bowring.
## p. 6448 (#430) ###########################################
6448
GOETHE
ERGO BIBAMUS!
F
OR a praiseworthy object we're now gathered here,
So, brethren, sing Ergo bibamus!
Though talk may be hushed, yet the glasses ring clear:
Remember then, Ergo bibamus!
In truth 'tis an old, 'tis an excellent word;
With its sound so befitting each bosom is stirred,
And an echo the festal hall filling is heard,
A glorious Ergo bibamus!
I saw mine own love in her beauty so rare,
And bethought me of Ergo bibamus;
So I gently approached, and she let me stand there,
While I helped myself, thinking, Bibamus!
And when she's appeared, and will clasp you and kiss,
Or when those embraces and kisses ye miss,
Take refuge, till found is some worthier bliss,
In the comforting Ergo bibamus!
I am called by my fate far away from each friend;
Ye loved ones, then, Ergo bibamus!
With wallet light-laden from hence I must wend,
So double our Ergo bibamus!
Whate'er to his treasure the niggard may add,
Yet regard for the joyous will ever be had,
For gladness lends ever its charms to the glad,
So, brethren, sing: Ergo bibamus!
And what shall we say of to-day as it flies?
I thought but of Ergo bibamus!
'Tis one of those truly that seldom arise,
So again and again sing Bibamus!
For joy through a wide-open portal it guides,
Bright glitter the clouds as the curtain divides,
And a form, a divine one, to greet us in glides,
While we thunder our Ergo bibamus.
Translation of E. A. Bowring.
## p. 6449 (#431) ###########################################
GOETHE
6449
ALEXIS AND DORA
F
ARTHER and farther away, alas! at each moment the vessel
Hastens, as onward it glides, cleaving the foam-covered flood!
Long is the track plowed up by the keel where dolphins are
sporting,
Following fast in its rear, while it seems flying pursuit.
All forebodes a prosperous voyage; the sailor with calmness
Leans 'gainst the sail, which alone all that is needed performs.
Forward presses the heart of each seaman, like colors and streamers;
Backward one only is seen, mournfully fixed near the mast,
While on the blue-tinged mountains, which fast are receding, he
gazeth,
And as they sink in the sea, joy from his bosom departs.
Vanished from thee, too, O Dora, is now the vessel that robs thee
Of thine Alexis, thy friend,-ah, thy betrothed as well!
Thou, too, art after me gazing in vain. Our hearts are still throb-
bing,
Though for each other, yet ah! 'gainst one another no more.
O thou single moment, wherein I found life! thou outweighest
Every day which had else coldly from memory fled.
'Twas in that moment alone, the last, that upon me descended
Life such as deities grant, though thou perceivèdst it not.
Phœbus, in vain with thy rays dost thou clothe the ether in glory:
Thine all-brightening day hateful alone is to me.
Into myself I retreat for shelter, and there in the silence
Strive to recover the time when she appeared with each day.
Was it possible beauty like this to see, and not feel it?
Worked not those heavenly charms e'en on a mind dull as thine?
Blame not thyself, unhappy one! Oft doth the bard an enigma
Thus propose to the throng, skillfully hidden in words;
Each one enjoys the strange commingling of images graceful,
Yet still is wanting the word which will discover the sense.
When at length it is found, the heart of each hearer is gladdened,
And in the poem he sees meaning of twofold delight.
Wherefore so late didst thou remove the bandage, O Amor,
Which thou hadst placed o'er mine eyes, wherefore remove it so
late?
Long did the vessel, when laden, lie waiting for favoring breezes,
Till in kindness the wind blew from the land o'er the sea.
Vacant times of youth! and vacant dreams of the future!
Ye all vanish, and naught, saving the moment, remains.
Yes! it remains,-my joy still remains! I hold thee, my Dora,
And thine image alone, Dora, by hope is disclosed.
--
XI-404
## p. 6450 (#432) ###########################################
6450
GOETHE
Oft have I seen thee go, with modesty clad, to the temple,
While thy mother so dear solemnly went by thy side.
Eager and nimble thou wert, in bearing thy fruit to the market,
Boldly the pail from the well didst thou sustain on thy head.
Then was revealed thy neck, then seen thy shoulders so beauteous,
Then, before all things, the grace filling thy motions was seen.
Oft have I feared that the pitcher perchance was in danger of
falling,
Yet it ever remained firm on the circular cloth.
Thus, fair neighbor, yes, thus I oft was won to observe thee,
As on the stars I might gaze, as I might gaze on the moon;
Glad indeed at the sight, yet feeling within my calm bosom
Not the remotest desire ever to call them mine own.
Years thus fleeted away! Although our houses were only
Twenty paces apart, yet I thy threshold ne'er crossed.
Now by the fearful flood are we parted! Thou liest to Heaven,
Billow! thy beautiful blue seems to me dark as the night.
All were now in movement: a boy to the house of my father
Ran at full speed and exclaimed, "Hasten thee quick to the strand!
Hoisted the sail is already, e'en now in the wind it is fluttering,
While the anchor they weigh, heaving it up from the sand;
Come, Alexis, oh come! "- My worthy stout-hearted father
Pressed, with a blessing, his hand down on my curly-locked head,
While my mother carefully reached me a newly made bundle;
"Happy mayst thou return! " cried they-"both happy and rich! "
Then I sprang away, and under my arm held the bundle,
Running along by the wall. Standing I found thee hard by,
At the door of thy garden. Thou smilingly saidst then, "Alexis!
Say, are yon boisterous crew going thy comrades to be?
Foreign coasts wilt thou visit, and precious merchandise purchase,
Ornaments meet for the rich matrons who dwell in the town;
Bring me also, I pray thee, a light chain; gladly I'll pay thee,
Oft have I wished to possess some such a trinket as that. "
There I remained, and asked, as merchants are wont, with precision
After the form and the weight which thy commission should have.
Modest indeed was the price thou didst name! I meanwhile was
gazing
On thy neck, which deserved ornaments worn but by queens.
Loudly now rose the cry from the ship; then kindly thou spakest:-
"Take, I entreat thee, some fruit out of the garden, my friend!
Take the ripest oranges, figs of the whitest; the ocean
Beareth no fruit, and in truth, 'tis not produced by each land. "
So I entered in. Thou pluckedst the fruit from the branches,
And the burden of gold was in thine apron upheld.
-
## p. 6451 (#433) ###########################################
GOETHE
6451
Oft did I cry, Enough! But fairer fruits were still falling
Into thy hand as I spake, ever obeying thy touch.
Presently didst thou reach the arbor; there lay there a basket,
Sweet blooming myrtle-trees waved, as we drew nigh, o'er our
heads.
Then thou began'st to arrange the fruit with skill and in silence:
First the orange, which heavy as though 'twere of gold,
Then the yielding fig, by the slightest pressure disfigured,
And with myrtle, the gift soon was both covered and graced.
But I raised it not up. I stood. Our eyes met together,
And my eyesight grew dim, seeming obscured by a film.
Soon I felt thy bosom on mine! Mine arm was soon twining
Round thy beautiful form; thousand times kissed I thy neck.
On my shoulder sank thy head; thy fair arms, encircling,
Soon rendered perfect the ring knitting a rapturous pair.
Amor's hands I felt; he pressed us together with ardor,
And from the firmament clear, thrice did it thunder; then tears
Streamed from mine eyes in torrents, thou weptest, I wept, both
were weeping,
And 'mid our sorrow and bliss, even the world seemed to die.
Louder and louder they called from the strand; my feet would no
longer
Bear my weight, and I cried:- "Dora! and art thou not mine? »
"Thine forever! " thou gently didst say. Then the tears we were
shedding
Seemed to be wiped from our eyes, as by the breath of a god.
Nearer was heard the cry "Alexis! " The stripling who sought me
Suddenly peeped through the door. How he the basket snatched
up!
How he urged me away! how pressed I thy hand! Dost thou ask
me
How the vessel I reached? Drunken I seemed, well I know,
Drunken my shipmates believed me, and so had pity upon me;
And as the breeze drove us on, distance the town soon obscured.
"Thine forever! " thou, Dora, didst murmur; it fell on my senses
With the thunder of Zeus! while by the thunderer's throne
Stood his daughter, the goddess of Love; the Graces were standing
Close by her side! so the bond beareth an impress divine!
Oh then hasten, thou ship, with every favoring zephyr!
Onward, thou powerful keel, cleaving the waves as they foam!
Bring me unto the foreign harbor, so that the goldsmith
May in his workshop prepare straightway the heavenly pledge!
Ay, of a truth, the chain shall indeed be a chain, O my Dora!
Nine times encircling thy neck, loosely around it entwined.
## p. 6452 (#434) ###########################################
6452
GOETHE
Other and manifold trinkets I'll buy thee; gold-mounted bracelets,
Richly and skillfully wrought, also shall grace thy fair hand.
There shall the ruby and emerald vie, the sapphire so lovely
Be to the jacinth opposed, seeming its foil; while the gold
Holds all the jewels together, in beauteous union commingled.
Oh, how the bridegroom exults, when he adorns his betrothed!
Pearls if I see, of thee they remind me; each ring that is shown me
Brings to my mind thy fair hand's graceful and tapering form.
I will barter and buy; the fairest of all shalt thou choose thee;
Joyously would I devote all of the cargo to thee.
Yet not trinkets and jewels alone is thy loved one procuring;
With them he brings thee whate'er gives to a housewife delight:
Fine and woolen coverlets, wrought with an edging of purple,
Fit for a couch where we both, lovingly, gently may rest;
Costly pieces of linen. Thou sittest and sewest, and clothest
Me, and thyself, and perchance even a third with it too.
