German fiction -- Translations into English; Short stories, German -- Translations into English
Colin rode that same day to the Governor at Grasse, and came back
early the next morning. But Justice Hautmartin only laughed at him,
and removed all of Mother Manon’s suspicions by swearing he would let
his nose be cut off if Colin did not pay three hundred livres for
the broken cup. He also went with Mother Manon to talk with Father
Jerome about the marriage, and impressed upon him the necessity of
earnestly setting before Marietta her duty as an obedient daughter in
not opposing the will of her mother. This the pious old man promised,
although he understood not the half of what they shouted in his ear.
When Monday morning came Mother Manon said to her daughter: “Dress
yourself handsomely, and carry this myrtle wreath to Father Jerome; he
wants it for a bride.” Marietta dressed herself in her Sunday clothes,
took the myrtle wreath unsuspiciously, and carried it to Father Jerome.
On the way Colin met her, and greeted her joyfully, though timidly; and
when she told him where she was taking the wreath, Colin said: “I am
going the same way, for I am carrying the money for the church’s tenths
to the priest.” And as they went on he took her hand silently, and both
trembled as if they designed some crime against each other.
“Hast thou forgiven me?” whispered Colin, anxiously. “Ah! Marietta,
what have I done to thee, that thou art so cruel toward me?”
She could only say: “Be quiet, Colin, you shall have the ribbon again;
and I will preserve the cup since it came from you! Did it really come
from you?”
“Ah! Marietta, canst thou doubt it? All I have I would gladly give
thee. Wilt thou, hereafter, be as kind to me as thou art to others?”
She replied not. But as she entered the parsonage she looked aside at
him, and when she saw his fine eyes filled with tears, she whispered
softly: “Dear Colin!” Then he bent down and kissed her hand. With this
the door of a chamber opened and Father Jerome, with venerable aspect,
stood before them. The young couple held fast to each other. I know not
whether this was the effect of the hand-kissing, or the awe they felt
for the sage.
Marietta handed him the myrtle wreath. He laid it upon her head and
said: “Little children, love one another;” and then urged the good
maiden, in the most touching and pathetic manner, to love Colin. For
the old gentleman, from his hardness of hearing, had either mistaken
the name of the bridegroom, or forgotten it, and thought Colin must be
the bridegroom.
Then Marietta’s heart softened under the exhortation, and with tears
and sobs she exclaimed: “Ah! I have loved him for a long time, but he
hates me.”
“I hate thee, Marietta?” cried Colin. “My soul has lived only in thee
since thou camest to Napoule. Oh! Marietta, how could I hope and
believe that thou didst love me? Does not all Napoule worship thee?”
“Why, then, dost thou avoid me, Colin, and prefer all my companions
before me?”
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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