Part 6 (2/2)
He looks like his father, only he seems more ardent and excitable. The former was a youth of superior talents. He was wanting, however, in a certain liberality of mind. He might hare become something more than an industrious and able mechanic.”
Henry wished that the dance would never end. With heartfelt pleasure his eyes rested on the roses of his partner. Her innocent eye did not avoid his. She appeared like the spirit of her father in the most lovely disguise. Eternal youth spoke from her full and quiet eyes. Upon a light blue ground lay the mild splendor of the brown stars. Her forehead and nose were beautifully formed. Her face was like a lily inclined towards the rising sun, and from her slender white neck, the blue veins clung round her tender cheeks in gentle curves. Her voice was like a distant echo, and her small head with its brown tresses seemed but to hover over her airy form.
Refreshments were brought in, and the dances closed. The elder people seated themselves on one side, the younger on the other.
Henry remained with Matilda. A young relative seated herself at his left, and Klingsohr sat opposite him. If Matilda said but little, his other neighbor, Veronika, was so much the more talkative. She immediately played the familiar with him, and soon made him acquainted with all present. Henry lost much of her conversation. He was still with his partner, and wished to turn much oftener to the right.
Klingsohr made an end to their talking. He asked about the band with the strange devices, which Henry had fastened to his coat. He told him with much emotion of the girl from the holy land. Matilda wept; and now Henry could scarcely hide his tears. For this reason he entered into conversation with her. All were enjoying themselves, and Veronika joked and laughed with her acquaintances. Matilda described Hungary, where her father often dwelt, and the mode of life in Augsburg. The enjoyment was at its height. The music put all restraint to flight, and all the affections into a joyful play. Baskets of flowers in all their splendor exhaled their odors upon the table, and the wine danced about between the dishes and the flowers, shook its golden wings, and formed many varied pictures between the guests and the world. Henry now understood for the first time what was meant by a festival. A thousand happy spirits seemed to gambol around the table, and to live in silent sympathy with the joys of the happy people, and to intoxicate themselves with their pleasures. The enjoyment of life stood before him, like a tinkling tree full of golden fruits. Pain had vanished, and it seemed impossible that ever human inclination should have turned from this tree to the dangerous fruit of knowledge, the tree of strife.
He now learned what were wine and food. They tasted very richly to him.
A heavenly oil seasoned them for him, and from the beaker sparkled the splendor of earthly life. Some of the maidens brought a fresh garland to the old Swaning. He put it on, and kissing them, said, ”You must bring one also to our friend Klingsohr, and for thanks he will teach you a couple of new songs. You shall have mine immediately. He beckoned for the music to commence, and sang with a clear voice:--
”Surely life is most distressing, And a mournful fate we meet!
Stress and need our only blessing, Practised only in deceit; And our bosoms never daring To unfold their soft despairing.
”What the elders all are telling, To the youthful heart is waste; Throes of longing are we feeling The forbidden fruit to taste; Would the gentle youths but deign us, And believe that they could gain us!
”Thinking so then are we sinning?
All our thoughts are duty-free.
What indeed to us remaining, Wretched wights, but fantasy?
Do we strive our dreams to banish, Never, never will they vanish.
”When in prayer at even bending Frightens us the loneliness, Favor and desire are wending Thitherward to our caress; How disdain the fair offender, Or resist the soft surrender?
”Mothers stern our charms concealing, Every day prescribe anew.
What availeth all our willing?
Spring they not again to view?
Warm desire is ever riving Closest fetters with its striving.
”Every impulse harshly spurning Hard and cold to be as stone, Never glances bright returning, Close to be and all alone, Heed to no entreaty giving,-- Call you that the flower of living?
”Ah, how great a maid's annoyance, Sick and chafed her bosom is,-- And to make her only joyance, Withered lips bestow a kiss!
Will the leaf be turning never, Elders' reign to end forever?”
Both old and young laughed. The girls blushed and smiled aside. Amidst a thousand railleries a second garland was brought and put upon Klingsohr. They begged him, however, very earnestly not to give them such a gay song. ”No,” said Klingsohr, ”I will take good care not to speak so lightly of your secrets; say yourselves what kind of a song you would prefer.”
”Anything but a love song,” cried the girls; ”let it be a drinking song if you like.” Klingsohr sang:--
”On verdant mountain-side is growing The G.o.d, who heaven to us brings; The sun's own foster-child, and glowing With all the fire its favor flings.
”In Spring is he conceived with pleasure, The bud unfolds in silent joy, And mid the Autumn's harvest-treasure Forth springs to life the golden boy.
”Within his narrow cradle lying, In vaulted rooms beneath the ground, He dreams of feasts and banners flying And airy castles all around.
”Near to his dwelling none remaineth, When chafeth he in restless strife, And every hoop and fetter straineth In all the pride of youthful life.
”For viewless watchmen round are closing, Until his lordly dreams are o'er, With air-enveloped spears opposing The loiterer near the sacred door.
”So when unfold his sleeping pinions, With sparkling eyes he greets the day, Obeys in peace his priestly minions, And forth he cometh when they pray.
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