Delphi Collected Works of Johann Wolfgang von Goethe \(Illustrated\) pdfdrive com

CHAPTER VI

THE  COMPANY  had  met  again;  the  conversation  of  our  friends  was

necessarily interrupted. Ere long a courier was announced, as wishing to deliver

with  his  own  hand  a  letter  to  Lothario.  The  man  was  introduced:  he  had  a

vigorous sufficient look; his livery was rich and handsome. Wilhelm thought he

knew  him:  nor  was  he  mistaken;  for  it  was  the  man  whom  he  had  sent  to  seek

Philina  and  the  fancied  Mariana,  and  who  never  came  back.  Our  friend  was

about to address him, when Lothario, who had read the letter, asked the courier

with a serious, almost angry tone: “What is your master’s name?”

“Of all questions,” said the other with a prudent air, “this is the one which I

am  least  prepared  to  answer.  I  hope  the  letter  will  communicate  the  necessary

information: verbally I have been charged with nothing.”

“Be it as it will,” replied Lothario with a smile; “since your master puts such

trust in me as to indite a letter so exceedingly facetious, he shall be welcome to

us.” — ”He will not keep you long waiting for him,” said the courier with a bow,

and withdrew.

“Do but hear the distracted stupid message,” said Lothario.

“‘As  of  all  guests,  Good  Humour  is  believed  to  be  the  most  agreeable

wherever he appears, and as I always keep that gentleman beside me by way of

travelling  companion,  I  feel  persuaded  that  the  visit  I  intend  to  pay  your  noble

Lordship  will  not  be  taken  ill;  on  the  contrary,  I  hope  the  whole  of  your

illustrious family will witness my arrival with complete satisfaction; and in due

time also my departure; being always, et cetera, Count of Snailfoot.”‘

“’Tis a new family,” said the Abbé.

“A vicariat count, perhaps,” said Jarno.

“The secret is easy to unriddle,” said Natalia: “I wager it is none but brother

Friedrich, who has threatened us with a visit ever since my uncle’s death.”

“Right!  fair  and  skilful  sister!”  cried  a  voice  from  the  nearest  thicket;  and

immediately  a  pleasant,  cheerful  youth  stept  forward.  Wilhelm  could  scarcely

restrain  a  cry  of  wonder.  “How?”  exclaimed  he:  “Does  our  fair-haired  knave,

too,  meet  me  here?”  Friedrich  looked  attentively,  and  recognising  Wilhelm,

cried:  “In  truth  it  would  not  have  astonished  me  so  much  to  have  beheld  the

famous Pyramids, which still stand fast in Egypt, or the grave of King Mausolus,

which, as I am told, does not exist, here placed before me in my uncle’s garden,

as to find you in it, my old friend, and frequent benefactor. Accept my best and

heartiest service!”

---

After  he  had  kissed  and  complimented  the  whole  circle,  he  again  sprang

towards  Wilhelm,  crying:  “Use  him  well,  this  hero,  this  leader  of  armies,  and

dramatical  philosopher!  When  we  became  acquainted  first,  I  dressed  his  hair

indifferently, I may say execrably; yet he afterwards saved me from a pretty load

of blows. He is magnanimous as Scipio, munificent as Alexander; at times he is

in love, yet he never hates his rivals. Far from heaping coals of fire on the heads

of his enemies, — a piece of service, I am told, which we can do for any one, —

he rather, when his friends have carried off his love, dispatches good and trusty

servants after them, that they may not strike their feet against a stone.”

In the same style, he ran along with a volubility which baffled all attempts to

restrain it; and as no one could reply to him in that vein, he had the conversation

mostly to himself. “Do not wonder,” cried he, “that I am so profoundly versed in

sacred  and  profane  writers:  you  shall  hear  by  and  by  how  I  attained  my

learning.”  They  wished  to  know  how  matters  stood  with  him,  where  he  had

been; but crowds of proverbs and old stories choked his explanation.

Natalia whispered to Theresa: “His gaiety afflicts me; I am sure at heart he is

not merry.”

As, except a few jokes which Jarno answered, Friedrich’s merriment was met

by no response from those about him, he was obliged at last to say: “Well, there

is nothing left for me, but among so many grave faces to be grave myself. And

as in such a solemn scene, the burden of my sins falls heavy on my soul, I must

honestly resolve upon a general confession; for which, however, you, my worthy

gentlemen and ladies, shall not be a jot the wiser. This honourable friend already

knows  a  little  of  my  walk  and  conversation;  he  alone  shall  know  the  rest;  and

this the rather, as he alone has any cause to ask about it. Are not you,” continued

he to Wilhelm, “curious about the how and where, the when and wherefore? And

how  it  stands  with  the  conjugation  of  the  Greek  verb  ??  and  the  derivatives  of

that very amiable part of speech?”

He then took Wilhelm by the arm, and led him off, pressing him and skipping

round him with the liveliest air of kindness.

Scarcely  had  they  entered  Wilhelm’s  room,  when  Friedrich  noticed,  in  the

window,  a  powder-knife,  with  the  inscription,  Think  of  me.  “You  keep  your

valuables  well  laid  up!”  said  he:  “This  is  the  powder-knife  Philina  gave  you,

when  I  pulled  your  locks  for  you.  I  hope,  in  looking  at  it,  you  have  diligently

thought of that fair damsel: I assure you, she has not forgotten you; if I had not

long ago obliterated every trace of jealousy from my heart, I could not look on

you without envy.”

“Talk no more of that creature,” answered Wilhelm. “I confess, it was a while

before  I  could  get  rid  of  the  impression,  which  her  looks  and  manner  made  on

---

me; but that was all.”

“Fy!  fy!”  cried  Friedrich:  “would  any  one  deny  his  deary?  You  loved  her  as

completely  as  a  man  could  wish.  No  day  passed  without  your  giving  her  some

present;  and  when  a  German  gives,  you  may  be  sure  he  loves.  No  alternative

remained  for  me  but  whisking  her  away  from  you;  and  in  this  the  little  red

officer at last succeeded.”

“How!  You  were  the  officer  whom  we  discovered  with  her,  whom  she

travelled off with?”

“Yes,” said Friedrich, “whom you took for Mariana. We had sport enough at

the mistake.”

“What cruelty,” cried Wilhelm, “to leave me in such suspense!”

“And besides to take the courier, whom you sent to catch us, into pay!” said

Friedrich. “He is a very active fellow; we have kept him by us ever since. And

the  girl  herself  I  love  as  desperately  as  ever.  She  has  managed  me  in  some

peculiar  style:  I  am  almost  in  a  mythologic  case;  every  day  I  tremble  at  the

thought of being metamorphosed.”

“But  tell  me,  pray,”  said  Wilhelm,  “where  have  you  acquired  this  stock  of

erudition? It surprises me to hear the strange way you have assumed of speaking

always with a reference to ancient histories and fables.”

“It  was  by  a  pleasant  plan,”  said  Friedrich,  “that  I  got  my  learning.  Philina

lives with me at present: we have got a lease of an old knightly castle from the

farmer in whose ground it is: and there we live, with the hobgoblins of the place,

as merrily as possible. In one of the rooms, we found a small but choice library,

consisting of a folio Bible, Gottfried’s Chronicle, two volumes of the Theatrum