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

CHAPTER VIII

THE  ABBÉ  called  them,  in  the  evening,  to  attend  the  exequies  of  Mignon.

The  company  proceeded  to  the  Hall  of  the  Past;  they  found  it  magnificently

ornamented  and  illuminated.  The  walls  were  hung  with  azure  tapestry  almost

from ceiling to floor, so that nothing but the friezes and socles, above and below,

were  visible.  On  the  four  candelabra  in  the  corners,  large  wax-lights  were

burning;  smaller  lights  were  in  the  four  smaller  candelabra  placed  by  the

sarcophagus  in  the  middle.  Near  this  stood  four  Boys,  dressed  in  azure  with

silver; they had broad fans of ostrich feathers, which they waved above a figure

that  was  resting  upon  the  sarcophagus.  The  company  sat  down:  two  invisible

Choruses began in a soft musical recitative to ask: “Whom bring ye us to the still

dwelling?”  The  four  Boys  replied  with  lovely  voices:  “Tis  a  tired  playmate

whom  we  bring  you;  let  her  rest  in  your  still  dwelling,  till  the  songs  of  her

heavenly sisters once more awaken her.”

CHORUS

Firstling  of  youth  in  our  circle,  we  welcome  thee!  With  sadness  welcome

thee!  May  no  boy,  no  maiden  follow!  Let  age  only,  willing  and  composed,

approach the silent Hall, and in the solemn company, repose this one dear child!

BOYS

Ah,  reluctantly  we  brought  her  hither!  Ah,  and  she  is  to  remain  here!  Let  us

too remain; let us weep, let us weep upon her bier!

CHORUS

Yet  look  at  the  strong  wings;  look  at  the  light  clear  robe!  How  glitters  the

golden band upon her head! Look at the beautiful, the noble repose!

BOYS

Ah! the wings do not raise her; in the frolic game, her robe flutters to and fro

no  more;  when  we  bound  her  head  with  roses,  her  looks  on  us  were  kind  and

friendly.

CHORUS

Cast forward the eye of the spirit! Awake in your souls the imaginative power,

which carries forth, what is fairest, what is highest, Life, away beyond the stars.

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BOYS

But ah! we find her not here; in the garden she wanders not; the flowers of the

meadow she plucks no longer. Let us weep, we are leaving her here! Let us weep

and remain with her!

CHORUS

Children, turn back into life! Your tears let the fresh air dry, which plays upon

the rushing water. Fly from Night! Day and Pleasure and Continuance are the lot

of the living.

BOYS

Up!  Turn  back  into  life!  Let  the  day  give  us  labour  and  pleasure,  till  the

evening brings us rest, and the nightly sleep refreshes us.

CHORUS

Children!  Hasten  into  life!  In  the  pure  garments  of  beauty,  may  Love  meet

you with heavenly looks and with the wreath of immortality!

The Boys had retired; the Abbé rose from his seat, and went behind the bier.

“It is the appointment,” said he, “of the Man who prepared this silent abode, that

each new tenant of it shall be introduced with a solemnity. After him, the builder

of this mansion, the founder of this establishment, we have next brought a young

stranger  hither:  and  thus  already  does  this  little  space  contain  two  altogether

different  victims  of  the  rigorous,  arbitrary,  and  inexorable  Death-goddess.  By

appointed laws we enter into life; the days are numbered which make us ripe to

see the light; but for the duration of our life there is no law. The weakest thread

will spin itself to unexpected length; and the strongest is cut suddenly asunder by

the scissors of the Fates, delighting, as it seems, in contradictions. Of the child,

whom we have here committed to her final rest, we can say but little. It is still

uncertain  whence  she  came;  her  parents  we  know  not;  the  years  of  her  life  we

can  only  conjecture.  Her  deep  and  closely-shrouded  soul  allowed  us  scarce  to

guess at its interior movements: there was nothing clear in her, nothing open but

her affection for the man, who had snatched her from the hands of a barbarian.

This  impassioned  tenderness,  this  vivid  gratitude,  appeared  to  be  the  flame

which consumed the oil of her life: the skill of the physician could not save that

fair  life,  the  most  anxious  friendship  could  not  lengthen  it.  But  if  art  could  not

stay  the  departing  spirit,  it  has  done  its  utmost  to  preserve  the  body,  and

withdraw  it  from  decay.  A  balsamic  substance  has  been  forced  through  all  the

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veins,  and  now  tinges,  in  place  of  blood,  these  cheeks  too  early  faded.  Come

near, my friends, and view this wonder of art and care!”

He raised the veil: the child was lying in her angel’s-dress, as if asleep, in the

most soft and graceful posture. They approached, and admired this show of life.

Wilhelm  alone  continued  sitting  in  his  place:  he  was  not  able  to  compose

himself:  what  he  felt,  he  durst  not  think;  and  every  thought  seemed  ready  to

destroy his feeling.

For the sake of the Marchese, the speech had been pronounced in French. That

nobleman came forward with the rest, and viewed the figure with attention. The

Abbé thus proceeded: “With a holy confidence, this kind heart, shut up to men,

was continually turned to its God. Humility, nay an inclination to abase herself

externally, seemed natural to her. She clave with zeal to the Catholic religion, in

which she had been born and educated. Often she expressed a still wish to sleep

on  consecrated  ground:  and  according  to  the  usage  of  the  church,  we  have

therefore  consecrated  this  marble  coffin,  and  the  little  earth  which  is  hidden  in

the cushion that supports her head. With what ardour did she in her last moments

kiss  the  image  of  the  Crucified,  which  stood  beautifully  figured  on  her  tender

arm, with many hundred points!” So saying, he stripped up her right sleeve, and

a crucifix, with marks and letters round it, showed itself in blue upon the white

skin.

The  Marchese  looked  at  this  with  eagerness,  stooping  down  to  view  it  more

intensely.  “O  God!”  cried  he,  as  he  stood  upright,  and  raised  his  hands  to

Heaven: “Poor child! Unhappy niece! Do I meet thee here! What a painful joy to

find thee, whom we had long lost hope of; to find this dear frame, which we had

long  believed  the  prey  of  fishes  in  the  ocean,  here  preserved,  though  lifeless!  I

assist  at  thy  funeral,  splendid  in  its  external  circumstances,  still  more  splendid

from the noble persons who attend thee to thy place of rest. And to these,” added

he with a faltering voice, “so soon as I can speak, I will express my thanks.”

Tears hindered him from saying more. By the pressure of a spring, the Abbé

sank  the  body  into  the  cavity  of  the  marble.  Four  Youths,  dressed  as  the  Boys

had  been,  came  out  from  behind  the  tapestry;  and  lifting  the  heavy,  beautifully

ornamented lid upon the coffin, thus began their song:

THE YOUTHS

Well is the treasure now laid up; the fair image of the Past! Here sleeps it in

the marble, undecaying; in your hearts too it lives, it works. Travel, travel, back

into  life!  Take  along  with  you  this  holy  Earnestness;  —  for  Earnestness  alone

makes life eternity.

The  invisible  Chorus  joined  in  with  the  last  words:  but  no  one  heard  the

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strengthening  sentiment;  all  were  too  much  busied  with  themselves,  and  the

emotions which these wonderful disclosures had excited. The Abbé and Natalia

conducted  the  Marchese  out;  Theresa  and  Lothario  walked  by  Wilhelm.  It  was

not  till  the  music  had  altogether  died  away,  that  their  sorrows,  thoughts,

meditations, curiosity again fell on them with all their force, and made them long

to be transported back into that exalting scene.

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