Translations from the German (Vol 3 of 3): Tales by Musæus, Tieck, RichterCarlyle, Thomas
General
Translations from the German (Vol 3 of 3): Tales by Musæus, Tieck, Richter
Carlyle, Thomas
German fiction -- Translations into English
stolen moments; for her wealthy family observed her strictly, and still
more a powerful and jealous bridegroom. They mutually confessed their
love, but knew not what to do; for he was a stranger, and could offer
his beloved no such splendid fortune as she was entitled to expect. He
now felt his poverty; yet when he reflected on his former way of life,
it seemed to him that he was passing rich; for his existence was
rendered holy, his heart floated forever in the fairest emotion; Nature
was now become his friend, and her beauty lay revealed to him; he felt
himself no longer alien from worship and religion; and he now crossed
this threshold, and the mysterious dimness of the temple, with far other
feelings than in former days of levity. He withdrew from his
acquaintances, and lived only to love. When he walked through her
street, and saw her at the window, he was happy for the day. He had
often spoken to her in the dusk of the evening; her garden was adjacent
to a friend's, who, however, did not know his secret. Thus a year had
passed away.
All these scenes of his new existence again moved through his
remembrance. He raised his eyes; that noble form was even then gliding
over the square; she shone out of the confused multitude like a sun. A
lovely music sounded in his longing heart; and as she approached, he
retired into the church. He offered her the holy water; her white
fingers trembled as they touched his, she bowed with grateful kindness.
He followed her, and knelt down near her. His whole heart was melting in
sadness and love; it seemed to him as if, from the wounds of longing,
his being were bleeding away in fervent prayers; every word of the
priest went through him, every tone of the music poured new devotion
into his bosom; his lips quivered, as the fair maiden pressed the
crucifix of her rosary to her ruby mouth. How dim had been his
apprehension of this Faith and this Love before! The priest elevated the
Host, and the bell sounded; she bowed more humbly, and crossed her
breast; and, like a flash, it struck through all his powers and
feelings, and the image on the altar seemed alive, and the coloured
dimness of the windows as a light of paradise; tears flowed fast from
his eyes, and allayed the swelling fervour of his heart.
The service was concluded. He again offered her the consecrated font;
they spoke some words, and she withdrew. He stayed behind, in order to
excite no notice; he looked after her till the hem of her garment
vanished round the corner; and he felt like the wanderer, weary and
astray, from whom, in the thick forest, the last gleam of the setting
sun departs. He awoke from his dream, as an old withered hand slapped
him on the shoulder, and some one called him by name.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
Reviews
Reviews
No reviews yet
Be the first to share your thoughts on this work.
Elsewhere in the archive
Join the Discussion
Join the discussion
Sign in to leave a comment or review.
Sign InorCreate an account