Through the Schwarzwald spreads a buzzing.

Buzzing as of bees when swarming,

As of the approaching storm-wind.

In the tavern savage fellows

Meet: their heavy fists are striking

On the table: "Bring me wine here!

Better times are now approaching

For this land of Hauenstein."

From the corn-loft brings the peasant

His old-fashioned rusty musket,

Which below the floor was hidden;

Fetches also the long halberd.

On the walnut-tree the raven

Harshly croaks: "Long have I fasted;

Soon I'll have meat for my dinner,

I shall relish thee, poor peasant!"

Now the people from the mountains.

Throng at Herrischried the market;

There the seat is of their union,

There they hold their union-meeting.

But to-day the Hauenstein peasants

Came not in black velvet doublets,

With red stomachers and white frills,

As was usually their custom.

Some had buckled on cuirasses,

Others wore their leather doublets;

In the breeze the flag was waving,

And the morning sun was shining

On their spears and thick spiked clubs.

Near the old church in the market

Stood the village elders, with the

Union-leader and mace-bearer.

"Silence, men!" the beadle shouted.

Silence reigned, and on the church-steps

Mounted then the peasants' speaker,

Holding an official paper,

Stroked his long gray beard, and said:

"Inasmuch as the hard war-time

Has much injured town and country,

And the debt is much augmented;

So to meet increased expenses

Our most gracious rulers hereby

Do exact new contributions;

Seven florins from each household,

And from all the bachelors two.

And next week the tax-collector

Comes to gather these new taxes.

So 'tis written in this paper."

--"Death upon the tax-collector!

May God damn him!" cried the people.--

"Now as we ourselves have suffered

Quite enough by this sad war, and

Many lost their goods and chattels;

And because 'tis pledged in writing

As one of our privileges,

That there shall be no new taxes

E'er imposed upon this country,

Many this demand consider

As a most unjust extortion,

Think we should stand up most firmly

For our ancient rights by charter,

And should never pay a farthing."

--"Not a farthing!" cried the people.--

"So we summoned you together

For your final resolution."

Like the distant surf their voices

Loudly roared in wild confusion:

"Come! stand up! speak out! We must now

Hear the Bergalingen Fridli.

He knows best--and all we others

Always are of his opinion."

Then stepped out the man thus called for,

And upon a big log mounting,

Spoke thus with a shrewd expression:

"Do you see at last, dull peasants,

What the end will be? Your fathers

Once gave up their little finger;

Now they want to seize the whole hand.

Only give it, and you'll soon see,

How they'll flay your very skin off!

Who can really thus compel us?

In his woods free lives the peasant,

Nothing but the sun above him.

So it stands in our old records,

In the statutes of our union:

Nothing there of rent and socage,

Nothing of a bondman's service!

But there's danger we shall have them.

Do you know what will protect us?

Yonder there the Swiss can tell you,

And the valiant Appenzellers.

This here!"--and he brandished fiercely

O'er his head his thick spiked club.--

"On the fir-tree I heard piping

Lately a white bird at midnight:

Good old time, that bygone time,

Peasants, freemen in their forests;

If with spears and guns you seek it,

You will see it soon returning.

Now, Amen! my speech is ended."

Then wild cries rose from the people-

"He is right" were many saying;

"To the devil with our rulers!

Burn these damned taxation-papers!

All these scribblers may look out soon

If this flame can be extinguished

With the fluid in their inkstands."

Said another: "Thou, oh governor,

Didst consign me to a dungeon;

Poor my fare, with only water!

Thou hast wine within thy cellar,

And I hope we now shall try it.

Yes, with thee I'll square accounts soon!"

Said a third one: "Thee my musket,

Which has brought down many woodcocks,

I shall use for nobler sport soon.

Then hit well! For we'll be shooting

At the great black double eagle."

Thus a murmur through the crowd went.

Just as when the plague is raging,

Everywhere infection spreadeth,

So were all the peasants' hearts now

Filled with passion and blind wrath.

And in vain spoke the experienced

Villaringen elder, Balthes:

"If a horse's tail is bridled,

Not his mouth, no one can drive him.

If the peasant seeks for justice

By revolt, all will go badly;

In the end he gets a thrashing.

Hence of old we were commanded

To obey the ruling powers,

And--" but now in voluntary

Was he stopped in his sage counsels:

"Turn him out, this old fool Balthes!

May God damn him! He is faithless;

He's a traitor to his country!"

Thus they howled out, stones were flying,

Spears were threatening, and his friends could

Hardly get him off in safety.

"To be short, what use of speaking?"

Fridli said, of Bergalingen.

"Who are faithful to our old rights

And will go for them to battle,

Raise their hands high!" And they raised them

All, while loud hurrahs they shouted.

Arms are clanking, flags are waving,

Battle-cries--the drums are beating.

And that day large bands were marching

From the hills toward the river

To attack the forest-cities.

In the forest from the fir-tree

Looked the wood-sprite Meysenhartus,

Mocking at the peasants' army,

Said: "A lucky journey to you!

No need I should now mislead you,

As you choose yourselves the wrong track!"

Scouts are riding, watchmen blowing,

Women wailing, children crying;

Through the vale rings the alarm-bell.

Burghers through the streets are running:

"Close the gates! Defend the town-walls!

Bring the guns up to the tower!"

From the terrace saw the Baron

This commotion in the forest,

How the mountain-paths were darkened

By the peasant-bands descending.

"Am I dreaming," said he, "or have

All these men indeed forgotten,

How a hundred and fifty years since

Such mad peasants' jokes were punished?

Yes, indeed, the forest glitters

With their helmets and their halberds.

Well devised, you cunning peasants!

While below there on the Danube

The proud eagle of the emperor

Lets the Turks feel his sharp talons,

You think that it will be easy,

On the Rhine to pluck his feathers!

Look out well that this your reckoning

Won't deceive you; and I swear here,

The old Baron will not fail to

Greet you with a warm reception."

Turned and went into the castle,

And he donned his leathern doublet,

Buckled on the heavy broadsword,

And gave orders to the household:

"Quickly get your weapons ready,

Keep good watch upon the towers,

Raise the drawbridge, and let no one,

While I am away, here enter!

Master Werner, you may order

All the rest. Protect my castle,

And my daughter, my chief treasure!

Have no fear, dear Margaretta;

Brave must be a soldier's child.

Only some few coal-black ravens

Come there flying from the forest,

Want to get their skulls well battered

'Gainst the walls of this good city.

God preserve you! I myself go

To my post, up to the town-hall."

Margaretta threw herself now

In the Baron's arms, who kindly

Pressed upon her brow fond kisses.

Shaking Werner's hand then warmly

He walked off unto the square.

There the ladies of the convent

Wailing went up to the minster:

"Show us mercy, Fridolinus!"

By his door the "Button" landlord

Asked the Baron: "Is it time now,

That we put our gold and silver

In the cellar's deepest places?"

Said the Baron: "Shame upon you!

It is time to take your weapons

And to help defend the city.

Show the same zeal as when fishing!"

In the town-hall were assembled

Councillors and burgomaster.

Many of the city-fathers

Made wry faces, as though fearing

The last judgment-day was coming.

On their hearts their sins were pressing

Like a hundredweight; they cried out:

"Save us, God, from this great evil,

And we'll promise all our lifetime

Ne'er to take unlawful interest,

Never to defraud the orphan,

Ne'er to mix sand with our spices."

Even one proposed this motion:

"Let us send out to these peasants

Meat and wine in great abundance,

Also of doubloons some dozens,

That from hence they may depart;

They in Waldshut may look out then,

How they drive away these fellows."

Now the Baron came among them:

"My good sirs! I do believe you

Hang your heads. To work now bravely!

When the Swedes the town beleagured,

Then 'twas grave, but this is only

Child's play. Surely you have always

Liked to hear and make good music;

So the booming guns will please you.

Let the orchestra strike up now!

And these fellows, when they hear you,

Homeward soon will all go dancing,

E'er the emperor's own detachment

Plays for them the grand finale."

Thus he spoke. In times of terror

Oft a brave word at the right time

Can work wonders; many cowards

From example drink in courage;

And one single iron will leads

Oft along the wavering masses.

Thus the council looked up strengthened

To the Baron's gray moustaches.

"Yes, this is just our opinion,

We'll defend our city bravely,

And the Baron shall command us;

For he knows well how to do it.

Death to all these cursed peasants!"

Through the streets th' alarm is sounded

To the town-gate, where a narrow

Dam leads on to terra firma,

Ran well armed the younger people.

On the bastion stood commanding

Fludribus, the fresco-painter,

Who had there assembled round him

Some young lads who with great effort

An old gun were hauling up there.

Smiling looked at them the Baron,

But great Fludribus said gravely:

"Devotees of art can boast of

Stores of universal knowledge.

Let them have a chance, and they will

Rule the state as well as armies.

My keen eye sees well there's danger

In this spot; and as Cellini

From the Castle of St Angelo

Shot the constable of France once.

So--alas at foes inferior--

Cannonades here Fludribus."

"Only do not kill them all off!"

Said the Baron; "and be sure first

To get balls enough and powder;

For, the gun you there are dragging

Will not be of use without them!"

To the Rhine-bank came the peasants

In great crowds, and looked up growling

At the high walls of the city

And the well-closed city-gate.

"In his den the fox is hiding,

He has barred his hole most firmly,

But the peasants will unearth him,"

Fridli said, of Bergalingen.

"Forward! I will be your leader!"

Drums were beating the assault now,

Heavy muskets cracking loudly;

Through the powder-smoke ran shouting

All these hordes against the town-gate.

On the walls to best advantage

Had the Baron placed his forces;

And was tranquilly then looking

At the crowd of wild assaulters.

"'Tis to be regretted," thought he,

"That such strength is idly wasted.

Out of these strong country lubbers

One might form a splendid regiment."

His command is heard: "Now fire!"

The assaulters then were welcomed

With a well-aimed thundering volley,

And they fled in all directions;

Like a swarm of crows dispersing,

When the hail-shot flies among them.

And not few of them had fallen.

'Neath an apple-tree was lying

By the shore one who spoke feebly

To a comrade passing by him:

"Greet from me my poor old mother,

Also my Verena Frommherz.

Say, she can with a good conscience

Marry the tall Uickerhans now.

For, poor Seppli here is staining

The white sand with his true heart's blood!"

Whilst this happened by the town-gate,

Some were trying if the city

Could be entered by a back-way.

On the Rhine below were lying

Fishing-boats beside a cabin,

Where in traps they caught the salmon.

There another crowd streamed onward.

An audacious lad from Karsau

Led them; for, he knew each byway

Near the river, and had often

Many fish at night-time stolen

From the nets of other people.

In three fishing-boats, well manned, thence

Were they rowing up the river.

Willow-trees and heavy brushwood,

And a bend there in the river

Saved them from discovery.

Where the garden of the castle

On arched walls is far projecting

O'er the Rhine, they stopped their barges,

And quite easy was the landing.

On the roof of the pavilion

Which once Fludribus had painted

Sat the black cat Hiddigeigei.

With surprise the worthy cat saw

Spear-heads far below him glistening;

Saw a man, too, upward climbing

On the stone wall, tightly holding

With his teeth a shining sabre;

And how others followed after.

Growling said then Hiddigeigei:

"Best for a wise cat it would be

Ever to remain quite neutral

To man's foolish acts of daring;

But I hate these boorish peasants,

Hate the smell of cows and stables.

If they triumph, woe to Europe;

For, it would destroy completely

The fine atmosphere of culture.

Now look out below, you fellows!

Since the geese by cries of warning

Saved the Capitol of Rome once,

Animals are taking interest

In the history of the world."

Up he sprang in furious anger,

Curved his back, his hair all bristling,

And commenced a caterwauling

Fit to take away one's hearing.

On the jutting turret standing.

Faithful Anton heard this wauling,

And involuntarily looking

Toward that way: "Good heaven!" said he,

"In the garden is the enemy."

Quick his signal-shot brought other

Men-at-arms, along with Werner,

Who placed quickly his few fighters:

"Stand thou here--thou there--don't hurry

With your fire!" His heart beat wildly:

"Ha, my sword, maintain thy valour!"

Shallow was the castle's moat then,

Well-nigh dry, and 'mid the rushes

Glisten many swords and spear-heads.

Daring men are climbing upward

O'er the tower's crumbling stone-work.

Muskets cracking, arrows flying.

Axe-strokes 'gainst the gate are ringing,

Everywhere attack, and shouting:

"Castle thou wilt soon be taken!"

And between, the fall of bodies

In the moat is heard--much blood flows.

By the gate cries out young Werner:

"Well done, Anton! Now take aim at

That dark fellow on thy left hand;

I'll attend unto the other.

Steady now! They are retreating!"

Thus the first attack proved fruitless,

And with bloody heads drew back now

The assaulters, seeking shelter,

'Midst the chestnut-trees' dense thicket.

Scornful words now reach the castle:

"Coward knights, faint-hearted servants,

Keep behind the walls, protected.

Just come out to honest combat

If you've courage." "Death and Devil!"

Werner shouted. "Let the bridge down!

Spears at rest! Now onward!--Mock us?

In the Rhine with these damned scoundrels!"

Down the bridge fell rattling loudly;

Far ahead went Werner rushing,

Right into the crowd; ran over

Just the fellow who did guide them.

"When the sword gets dull, thou rascal,

With my fist alone I'll kill thee."

In the crowd he sees a sturdy

Soldier, with a weather-beaten

Face, bold and defiant-looking.

He had served with Wallenstein once,

And now fought for these mean peasants

From mere love of strife and bloodshed.

"Taste my steel now, gray old warrior,"

Cried young Werner, as his sword swung

Whizzing through the air to strike him.

But the soldier's halberd parried

Werner's stroke: "Not badly done, lad!

Here my answer!" Blood was dripping

From young Werner's locks; his forehead

Showed a deep wound from the halberd.

But the one who swung it, never

Gave a second stroke; his own throat,

Where by armour not protected,

Being cut by Werner's weapon.

Three steps backward then he staggered

Sinking: "Devil, stir thy fire!

Hast me now!" Dead lay the soldier.

Werner, thy young life guard well now!

Raging were the peasants, thronging

In great crowds around this handful.

'Gainst a chestnut-tree now leaning

Weak, but still his life defending,

Stood young Werner; round him rallied,

Brave and faithful, all the servants.

Save him, God! The wound is bleeding,

From his hand the sword falls slowly,

Dimmed his eyes are, and the enemy

At his gory breast is aiming.

Then--all may go well yet--

From the castle rings distinctly,

As if for a charge, the trumpet;

Then a shot--one falls; a volley

Follows. "Onward!" so the Baron

Now commands, and wildly flying

Tear the peasants to the Rhine.

Cheer up, Werner, friends are coming,

And with them comes Margaretta!

When the fight below was raging,

To the terrace she ascended,

And she blew--herself not knowing

Why she did it--in the anguish

Of her soul, the battle signal

Used in the Imperial army.

Which she'd learned in happy moments

In the honeysuckle-arbour.

It was heard by those returning

With the Baron from the town-gate;

And the maiden's war-cry made them

Hurry quickly to the rescue

Of those fighting in the garden.

Woman's heart, so gentle, timid,

What gave thee such courage then?

"God, he lives!" she bent now softly

Over him who 'neath the chestnuts

There on the green sward was lying,

Stroked the fair locks, lank and bloody,

From his brow: "Hast fought right bravely!"

Half unconscious gazed young Werner;

Did he then behold a vision?

Closed his eyes, and on two muskets

To the castle he was borne.

In the castle's chapel dimly

Was a flickering lamp-light burning,

Shining on the altar-picture,

Whence the Queen of Heaven looked down

With a gracious pitying smile,

'Neath the picture hung fresh gathered

Roses and geranium-garlands.

Kneeling there prayed Margaretta:

"Sorely tried one, full of mercy!

Thou who givest us protection,

Care for him who badly wounded

Lies now on a bed of anguish;

And bestow on me forgiveness

If thou thinkst it very sinful

That he fills my thoughts alone."

Hope and trust their light were shedding

In her heart as thus she prayed.

And more cheerful Margaretta

Now ascended up the staircase.

On the threshold of the sick-room

Was the gray old doctor standing,

And he beckoned her to come there.

Judging what most likely would be

The first question she would ask him,

He then said with voice half muffled:

"Fear no more, my gracious lady;

Fresh young blood and youthful vigour

From such wounds not long can suffer,

And already gentle slumber,

Messenger of health, doth soothe him.

He to-day can take an airing."

Spoke and left; for, his attention

Many wounded men were craving,

And he hated useless gossip.

Softly entered Margaretta

Now the sick-room of young Werner,

Bashful and yet curious whether

All was true the doctor told her.

Gently slumbering lay young Werner,

Pale in youthful beauty, looking

Like a statue. As if dreaming,

He lay holding, o'er his forehead

And his healing wound, his right hand,

As one who from glaring sunlight

Wishes to protect his eyes;

Round his lips a smile was playing.

Long on him gazed Margaretta--

Long and longer. Thus in old times

In the forest of Mount Ida

Gazed the goddess, fair Diana,

On Endymion the sleeper.

Pity held her eye a captive;

Ah, and pity is a fruitful

Soil for love's sweet plant to grow in.

From a tiny seed 'tis spreading

In this ground so rich and fertile,

Which it permeates completely

With its thousand fibrous rootlets.

Thrice already Margaretta

To the door her way had wended,

But as many times returning

She at last approached the bedside.

On the table stood a cooling

Potion, medicines in bottles;

But she neither touched the cooling

Potion nor the other bottles.

Timidly she bent there o'er him,

Timidly and hardly breathing,

Lest her breath might wake the sleeper.

Long she gazed at his closed eyelids

And involuntarily stooping,

With her lips--But who interprets

All the strange mysterious actions

Of a first sweet loving passion?

Well-nigh can my song conjecture

That she really wished to kiss him;

But she did not; startled sighing,

Turned abruptly--like a timid

Fawn she hurried from the chamber.

Like a man who, long accustomed

To the gloom and damp of dungeons,

Seems bewildered when beholding,

For the first time free fair Nature:

"Hast thou not, O sun, grown brighter?

Has the sky not deeper colours?"

And his eyes are nearly dazzled

By the light so long denied him:

Thus returns the convalescent

Once again to life and vigour.

Fresher, warmer, rosier visions

Rise before his raptured glances,

Which he greets with fond rejoicing.

"World, how fair thou art!" was also

Dropping from the lips of Werner,

As on the broad steps he slowly

Now descended to the garden.

Leaning on his staff, he stood long

Quiet, basking in the sunbeams

Playing o'er the fragrant flowers,

Drew a long breath, and then slowly

Stepped upon the garden-terrace.

On the stone-seat in the sunshine

He sat down now. Bees were humming,

Butterflies were lightly flying

'Mid the verdant chestnut-branches,

Out and in, like tavern-goers.

Green, pellucid, gently rushing,

Bore the Rhine its waters onward;

And a pine-raft filled with people,

Snake-like, swiftly sped toward Basel.

Near the shore, up to his knees stood

In the river there a fisher,

Singing gently to himself thus:

"Peasant comes with spears and muskets,

Peasant storms the forest-city,

Peasant will now fight with Austria:

Peasant! you will find that will

Make much heavier the bill;

Take your purse and pay the joke!

Seven florins seemed too much then,

One-and-twenty must thou pay now.

Soldiers quartered are dear guests too;

Then the plaisters from the surgeons:

Peasant! you will find that will

Make much heavier the bill;

Take your purse and pay the joke!"

Gaily gazed young Werner o'er the

Lovely landscape and the river;

But he stopped his contemplations.

On the wall with sunlight flooded

He beheld a shadow gliding,

As of curls and flowing garments--

Well did Werner know this shadow.

Through the shrubbery came smiling

Margaretta; she was watching

Hiddigeigei's graceful gambols,

Who then in the garden-arbour

With a wee white mouse was playing.

With his velvet paws he held it

Tight, and like a gracious sovereign

Looked down on his trembling captive.

From his seat rose up young Werner

Bowing lowly and with reverence.

Over Margaretta's cheeks spread

Ever-changing rosy blushes.

"Master Werner, may God bless you,

And how are you? You were silent

Such a long time, so with pleasure

Shall I hear your voice once more."

"Since my forehead made acquaintance

Lately with the enemy's halberd,

Hardly knew I," answered Werner,

"Where my life and thoughts had flown to.

O'er me lay thick clouds of darkness;

But to-day in dreams an angel

To my side descended, saying:

Thou art well, arise, be happy

That thou hast thy health recovered

And it was so. With a firm step

Thus far have I come already."

Now again fair Margaretta's

Cheeks were like the blush of morning.

When the dream young Werner mentioned,

Bashfully she turned her head; then

Playfully she interrupted:

"I suppose you are now looking

At the battle-field; indeed it

Proved a hot day, and I fancy

Still I hear the roar of battle:

Do you still recall, you stood there

By yon tree, and there a dead man

Lay beneath those blooming elders?

Where the gossamer so lightly

Through the air in threads is flying,

Spears and halberds then were glittering.

There, where still you see the traces

Of fresh plaster on the stone-wall,

Broke those peasants through when flying.

And, my good sir, over yonder

Then my father loudly scolded,

That a certain person headlong

Had into such danger plunged."

"Death and--but forgive, my lady.

That well-nigh I swore," said Werner.

"They were mocking us; and others,

If they please, may keep their temper.

When I hear such stinging speeches,

Then my heart burns, my fist clenches:

Fight! no other means I know of;

Fight I must, e'en should the whole world

Go to atoms with a crash.

Through my veins there flows no fish-blood;

And to-day, though somewhat feeble,

In the same case, I should stand there

By the chestnut-tree again."

"Wicked man," said Margaretta,

"That a fresh stroke from a halberd

Should be crossing your old scar, and

That--but do you know who suffered

Keenly for your daring conduct?

Do you know whose tears were flowing?

Would you once more give the order:

Lower drawbridge! if I begged you:

Werner stay and do remember

The poor suffering Margaretta?

If I--," but she was not able

Further to spin out her sentence.

What the mouth spoke not, the eyes said;

What the eyes said not, the heart did.

Dreamily young Werner lifted

Unto her his raptured gaze:

"Am I dying, or is doubly

My young life to me now given?"

In each other's arms they flew then,

Sought each other's lips with ardour,

And transported, pressed upon them

Love's first kiss, so sweet and blissful.

Golden-purple streamed the sunlight

Through the shady trees' high summits,

Down upon two happy beings--

On young Werner's pallid features,

On the lovely blushing maiden.

Love's first kiss so sweet and blissful!

Thinking of thee, joy and sorrow

Both steal o'er me; joy, that also

I have once thy nectar tasted,

Sorrow, that but once we taste it!

For thy sake I wished to cull from

Language, all the fairest flowers,

For a wreath unto thine honour;

But, instead of words rose visions

Clear before me, and they led me

Far to float o'er time and space.

First I soared to Eden's garden,

When the new-born world was lying

In its pristine youthful freshness,

When its age by days was reckoned.

Evening came, a rosy light spread

O'er the sky, while in the river's

Waves the sun to rest sank slowly;

On the shore, in merry frolic,

Graceful animals were playing.

Through the shady paths 'neath palm-trees

The first human couple walked.

Wide through space they gazed in silence,

'Mid the holy peace of evening;

In each other's eyes they looked then,

And their lips did meet.

Then I saw before me rising.

Visions of quite different aspect;

Dark the sky, rain-storm and lightning,

Mountains bursting, from the dark depths

Foaming waters rushing upward.

Flooded over is the ancient

Mother Earth, and she is dying.

To the cliffs the waves are rolling,

To the old man and his consort,

To the two last living mortals.

Now a flash--I saw them smiling,

Then embracing, without speaking,

Ever kissing. Night then--roaring,

Did the flood engulf these beings.

This I saw, and well I know now,

That a kiss outweighs all language,

Is, though mute, love's song of songs.

And when words fail, then the singer

Should be silent; therefore silent

He returns now to the garden.

On the stone steps of the terrace

Lay the worthy Hiddigeigei;

And with great amazement saw he,

How his mistress and young Werner

Were each other fondly kissing.

Grumbling said he to himself then:

"Often have I meditated

On great problems hard to settle,

Which my cat-heart fully fathomed;

But there's one which yet remaineth

Quite unsolved, uncomprehended:

Why do people kiss each other?

Not from hatred, not from hunger,

Else they'd bite and eat each other;

Neither can it be an aimless

Nonsense, for they are in general

Wise, and know well what they're doing.

Why then is it, I ask vainly,

Why do people kiss each other?

Why do mostly so the youthful?

And why mostly so in Spring-time?

Over all these knotty questions,

I intend to ponder further,

On the gable-roof to-morrow."

Margaretta plucked some roses,

Took then Werner's hat, and gaily

With the fairest ones adorned it.

"Poor pale man, till there are blooming

On your own cheeks just such roses,

On your hat you'll have to wear them.

But now tell me, wherefore is it

That I do so dearly love you?

Not a word you ere have spoken,

That could show me that you loved me.

Sometimes only shy and bashful

Did you raise at me your glances,

And sometimes you played before me.

Is it, then, your country's custom,

That a woman's love is won there,

Without words by trumpet-blowing?"

"Margaretta, sweetest darling,"

Said young Werner, "could I venture?

You appeared to me so saint-like,

In your flowing, snow-white garments.

At the feast of Fridolinus.

'Twas your glance which made me enter

In your noble father's service;

And your favour was the sunshine

Which my daily life illumined.

Ah! there by the mountain-lake once,

On my head was placed a garland.

'Twas love's crown of thorns you gave me,

And in silence I have worn it.

Could I speak, O could the homeless

Trumpeter his yearnings utter

Boldly to fair Margaretta?

Unto you as to an angel,

Who is guarding us poor mortals

Did I look in silent worship,

And I wished in your dear service

Here to die beneath the chestnuts.

From that fate you have preserved me,

Unto life and health restored me,

Made my life now doubly precious,

As I know your love adorns it.

Take me then! Since you did give me

That first burning kiss, I only

Live through you, belong to you now,

Margaretta--ever thine!"

"Thine, yes, thine," said Margaretta;

"What stiff barriers are erected

By our words! Belong to you now--

What a solemn cold expression.

Ever thine! 'tis thus love speaketh.

No more you; thou, heart to heart pressed,

Lips to lips, that is his language;

Therefore, Werner, let another

Kiss now seal it"--and their lips met.

In the sky the moon first shineth,

Then by countless stars is followed;

So the first kiss, when once given,

Is by hosts of others followed.

But how many were by stealth robbed

And paid duly back with interest,

All this doth my song keep secret.

Poetry and dry statistics

Are, alas, not on good terms.

Also Anton came now hurrying

Through the garden with a message:

"The three ladies from the convent,

Who the first of May went with us

To the fishing, send their greeting

To your gracious ladyship, and

Also make most kind inquiries

For the health of Master Werner,

Who, they trust, will soon amend."

Night, how long and full of terror!

When thou bring'st not to the weary

With thy shades refreshing slumber,

And sweet dreams to comfort him.

Restlessly his thoughts are delving

In the past's great heaps of rubbish,

Where they rake up many fragments

Of his former life, and nowhere

Can his eyes abide with pleasure;

Only gloomy spectres rise up,

Which the sunlight soon would banish.

Unrefreshed, next to the future

Roves the mind from which sweet sleep flies;

Forges plans, takes resolutions,

Builds up proud and airy castles;

But like owls and bats are flying

All around them hosts of doubts which

Drive away all hope and courage.

From the tower-clock struck midnight.

On his couch was lying sleepless

Werner in the turret-chamber;

Through the window beaming faintly

Fell a narrow ray of moonlight,

While beneath the Rhine did rush.

And the sleepless brain of Werner

Is by dream-like visions haunted.

Once it seemed to him like Sunday;

Bells are pealing, horses neighing,

Toward the Schwarzwald goes a wedding,

He walks at the head as bridegroom,

By his side is Margaretta;

And she wears a wreath of myrtle.

In the village loud rejoicings,

And the roads and village street are

All with flowers overstrewn.

In his priestly robes is standing

By the church-door the old Pastor

Blessing, beckoning him to enter--

But the vision's thread broke off here

For a new one: He imagined

At the door there was a knocking;

And now enters the odd figure

Of his dear old friend Perkéo,

With his red nose shining brightly

In the dimly-lighted chamber;

And he speaks with husky voice thus:

"Oh, my lad, with love don't meddle!

Love's a fire which consumeth

Him who kindles it, completely;

And thou art no charcoal-burner!

Come then home to the clear Neckar,

Come with me to my old wine-tun,

Which contains good stuff sufficient

All thy love-flames to put out."

Next he seems to be transported

To an Eastern field of battle.

Cries of Allah, sabres whirring;

And he soon strikes down a Pashaw

From his horse, and brings the crescent

To the general, Prince Eugene,

Who then claps him on the shoulder:

"Well done, my Imperial captain!"

From the battle-field his dreaming

Flies back to the days of childhood,

And his nurse sings in the garden:

"Squirrel climbs up on the blackthorn,

Squirrel goes up to the tree-top,

Squirrel falls into his grave.

Had he not so high ascended,

Then his fall had been less heavy,

Had not broken then his leg."

Thus disturbed by all this dreaming,

Werner sprang up of a sudden,

With long strides walked through his chamber;

And his mind was troubled always

By the same portentous question:

"Shall I ask the Baron for her?"

Love well-nigh appeared to him now

Just like stolen fruit; he felt that,

Like a thief, before the day broke,

He had better leave the castle.

But just then the sun was rising,

With the beauty of a bridegroom

In the blush of early morning.

"Be ashamed, my heart, great coward!

Yes, I'll ask him," cried young Werner.

At his breakfast sat the Baron

Poring deeply o'er a letter

Which the day before was brought him

By a messenger from Suabia,

From the Danube; where through narrow

Valleys the young stream is flowing,

And steep limestone rocks are rising

From the water which reflects them

With their verdant crowns of beech-trees;

Thence the man had come on horseback.

And the letter read as follows:

"Does my comrade still remember

His old Hans von Wildenstein?

Down the Rhine and Danube many

Drops of water have been flowing,

Since we in that war together

Lay before the bivouac-fire;

And I see it by my son's growth,

Who is now a strapping fellow--

Four-and-twenty years he reckons.

First a page unto his highness

The Grand Duke of Würtemberg;

Then to Tübingen I sent him.

If I by his debts can judge well,

Which I had to pay for him there,

He must have vast stores of knowledge.

Now he stays with me at home, at

Wildenstein; is hunting stags here,

Hunting foxes, hares and rabbits;

But sometimes the rascal even

Hunts the peasants' pretty daughters.

So 'tis time to think of taming

Him beneath the yoke of marriage.

If I err not, you, my friend, have

Just a daughter suited for him.

With old comrades 'tis the custom

Not to beat around the bush, but

Go straight forward to the business.

So I ask you, shall my Damian

Start upon a tour of courtship

To your castle on the Rhine?

Answer soon. Receive the greetings

Of thy Hans von Wildenstein!

"Postscript: Do you still remember

That great brawl we had at Augsburg,

And the rage of wealthy Fugger,

The ill-humour of his ladies,

Two-and-thirty years ago?"

With great effort tried the Baron

His friend's writing to decipher.

Spent a good half-hour upon it

Ere he came to its conclusion.

Smiling said he then: "A Suabian

Is a devil of a fellow.

One and all they are unpolished.

And coarse-grained is their whole nature;

But within their square-built noddles

Lie rich stores of clever cunning.

Many stupid brainless fellows

Might from them obtain supplies.

Truly my old Hans now even

In old age is calculating

Like the best diplomatist.

For, his much encumbered, rotten

Owl's-nest out there on the Danube,

Would be well propped up and rescued

By a good rich marriage-portion.

Still his plan is worth considering;

For, the name of Wildenstein is

Well known all throughout the Empire,

Since they followed as crusaders

In the train of Barbarossa.

Let the younker try his chance then!"

Werner with most solemn aspect,

Dressed in black, the room now entered;

Sadness lay on his pale features.

In good humour spoke the Baron:

"I was wishing just to see you,

For I want you to be ready

With your pen, and as my faithful

Secretary write a letter,

And a letter of importance.

There's a knight who lives in Suabia

Questioning me about my daughter;

Asks her hand from me in marriage

For his son, the younker Damian.

Write him then, how Margaretta

Daily grows in grace and beauty;

How she--but I need not tell you.

Think you are an artist--sketch then

With your pen a life-like, faithful

Portrait, not a jot forgetting.

Also write, to his proposal

I do offer no objection,

And the younker, if he pleases,

May come here and try his fortune."

"May come here and try his fortune,"

Said young Werner, as if dreaming,

Mumbling to himself--when grimly

Said the Baron: "What's the matter?

You have now as long a visage

As a protestant old preacher

On Good Friday. Is the fever

Coming once again to plague you?"

Gravely answered him young Werner:

"I, my lord, can't write that letter,

You must find another penman;

For, I come myself as suitor,

Come to ask you for your daughter."

"Come--to ask you--for your daughter!"

In his turn now said the Baron

To himself--he made a wry mouth

As one playing on the Jew's-harp,

And he felt a sudden twitching

In his foot from his old enemy

Podagra, and gravely said:

"My young friend, your brain is truly

Still affected with the fever.

Hurry quickly to the garden;

There stands in the shade a fountain,

There is flowing clear cool water;

If you dip your head thrice in it

Then your fever soon will cool."

"Noble lord," now answered Werner,

"Spare your jokes, for you may better

Use them, when the noble younker

Comes here from the land of Suabia.

Calm and free from any fever

Have I on this step decided,

And to Margaretta's father

I repeat the same petition."

Darkly frowning said the Baron:

"Do you want to hear from me then

What your own good sense should tell you?

Most unwillingly I hurt you

With harsh words; I've not forgotten

That the wound upon your forehead,

Hardly healed yet, you received here

By your ardour in my service.

He who ventures as a suitor

For my daughter first must show me

That he comes of noble lineage.

Nature has set up strict barriers

Round us all with prescient wisdom,

To us all our sphere assigning,

Wherein we the best may prosper.

In the Holy Roman Empire

Is each rank defined most clearly--

Nobles, commoners, and peasants.

If they keep within their circle,

From themselves their race renewing,

They'll remain then strong and healthy.

Each is then just like a column,

Which supports the whole; but never

Should these classes mix together.

Do you know the consequences?

Our descendants would have something

Of each class, and yet be nothing--

Shallow, good-for-nothing mongrels,

Tossed about, because uprooted

From the soil of old tradition.

Firm, exclusive must a man be;

And his course of life already

Must be inborn, an inheritance

Coming down through generations.

Hence our custom does require

Equal rank when people marry;

And I hold as law this custom;

I shall not allow a stranger

To o'erleap this solid barrier,

And no trumpeter shall therefore

Ever woo a noble lady."

Thus the Baron. With great labour

Had he put the words together

Of this solemn and unusual

Theoretical discourse.

Meanwhile Hiddigeigei lying

There, behind the stove, was listening.

At the end assent he nodded,

But in thoughtful meditation

Raised his paw up to his forehead,

Reasoning to himself as follows:

"Why do people kiss each other?

Never shall I solve this question!

I did think at last I'd solved it,

Thought that kisses might be useful

As a means to stop one's talking,

And prevent one from declaiming

Bitter stinging words of truth.

But, alas, now this solution

Seems, I must confess, erroneous;

Else young Werner long before this

Would have kissed my good old master."

To the Baron said young Werner,

And his voice was growing hollow:

"Much I thank you for this lesson.

'Midst the fir-trees of the mountains,

By the green waves of the river,

In the sunlight of the May-time,

Has my eye been overlooking

All these barriers of custom.

Thanks, that you have thus recalled them.

Also, thanks for all your kindness,

Shown to me while on the Rhine.

Now my time is up, the meaning

Of your words I thus interpret:

'Right about face!' I go gladly.

As a suitor fully equal

I shall here return, or never.

Be not angry then--farewell!"

Spoke, and from the room departed,

And he knew what must be done now.

At the door with troubled glances

Still a long while gazed the Baron:

"I am really sad," he muttered,

"Wherefore is this brave youth's name not

Damian von Wildenstein?"

Parting, parting, dismal moment!

Who first ever did invent it?

Surely 'twas a wicked man, far

In the Polar Sea, and freezing

Round his nose the polar wind blew;

And his shaggy, jealous consort,

Plagued him, so he no more relished

The sweet comfort of the train-oil.

O'er his head he drew a yellow,

Furry sealskin, and then waving

With his fur-protected right hand,

To his Ylaleyka spoke he

First this harsh and mournful sentence:

"Fare-thee-well, from thee I'm parting!"

Parting, parting, dismal moment!

In his turret-chamber Werner,

Was now tying bag and baggage.

Fastening up his travelling knapsack:

Greets the walls of his snug chamber

For the last time, for they seemed then

Just like good old friends and comrades.

Only these he took farewell of;

Margaretta's eyes he could not

For the world then have encountered.

To the court-yard he descended,

Quickly his good horse he saddled.

Hoofs then clatter; a sad rider

Rode forth from the castle's precincts.

In the low ground by the river

Stood a walnut-tree; once more there

Now he halted with his horse,

And once more took up his trumpet;

From his overburdened soul then

His farewell rang to the castle--

Rang out; don't you know the swan's song,

When with death's foreboding o'er him

Out into the lake he's swimming?

Through the rushes, through the snow-white

Water-lilies, rings his death-song:

"Lovely world, I now must leave thee;

Lovely world I die reluctant!"

Thus he blew there. Were those tears which

Glistened brightly on his trumpet,

Or some rain-drops which had fallen?

Onward now; the sharp spurs quickly

In the horse's flanks he presses,

And is flying at full gallop

Round the forest's farthest edge.