Come! you needs must see them, and from their hands shall receive me."Joyfully heard the youth the willing maiden's decision, Doubting whether he now had not better tell her the whole truth;But it appear'd to him best to let her remain in her error, First to take her home, and then for her love to entreat her.
Ah! but now he espied a golden ring on her finger, And so let her speak, while he attentively listen'd:--"Let us now return," she continued, "the custom is always To admonish the maidens who tarry too long at the fountain, Yet how delightful it is by the fast-flowing water to chatter!"Then they both arose, and once more directed their glances Into the fountain, and then a blissful longing came o'er them.
So from the ground by the handles she silently lifted the pitchers, Mounted the steps of the well, and Hermann follow'd the loved one.
One of the pitchers he ask'd her to give him, thus sharing the burden.
"Leave it," she said, "the weight feels less when thus they are balanced;And the master I've soon to obey, should not be my servant.
Gaze not so earnestly at me, as if my fate were still doubtfull!
Women should learn betimes to serve, according to station, For by serving alone she attains at last to the mast'ry, To the due influence which she ought to possess in the household.
Early the sister must learn to serve her brothers and parents, And her life is ever a ceaseless going and coming, Or a lifting and carrying, working and doing for others.
Well for her, if she finds no manner of life too offensive, And if to her the hours of night and of day all the same are, So that her work never seems too mean, her needle too pointed, So that herself she forgets, and liveth only for others!
For as a mother in truth she needs the whole of the virtues, When the suckling awakens the sick one, and nourishment calls for From the exhausted parent, heaping cares upon suff'ring.
Twenty men together could not endure such a burden, And they ought not,--and yet they gratefully ought to behold it."Thus she spoke, and with her silent companion advanced she Through the garden, until the floor of the granary reach'd they, Where the sick woman lay, whom she left by her daughters attended, Those dear rescued maidens, the types of innocent beauty.
Both of them enter'd the room, and from the other direction, Holding a child in each hand, her friend, the magistrate, enter'd.
These had lately been lost for some time by the sorrowing mother, But the old man had now found them out in the crowd of the people.
And they sprang in with joy, to greet their dearly-loved mother, To rejoice in a brother, the playmate now seen for the first time!
Then on Dorothea they sprang, and greeted her warmly, Asking for bread and fruit, but asking for drink before all things.
And they handed the water all round. The children first drank some, Then the sick woman drank, with her daughters, the magistrate also.
All were refresh'd, and sounded the praise of the excellent water;Mineral was it, and very reviving, and wholesome for drinking.
Then with a serious look continued the maiden, and spoke thus Friends, to your mouths for the last time in truth I have lifted the pitcher, And for the last time, alas, have moisten'd your lips with pure water.
