第35章
作者:歌德(J.W. von Goethe)    更新:2021-11-25 10:33
  I could, in my wrath,
  have slain the monster who struck the first stroke. And I must endure
  this!—— I, who, if I had had two such trees in my own court, and
  one had died from old age , should have wept with real affliction. But
  there is some comfort left, such a thing is sentiment, the whole village
  murmurs at the misfortune ; and I hope the vicar's wife will soon find,
  by the cessation of the villagers' presents , how much she has wounded
  the feelings of the neighborhhood. It was she who did it, the wife of
  the present incumbent (our good old man is dead), a tall , sickly
  creature who is so far right to disregard the world , as the world totally
  disregards her. The silly being affects to be learned , pretends to examine
  the canonical books , lends her aid toward the new-fashioned reformation
  of Christendom, moral and critical , and shrugs up her shoulders at
  the mention of Lavater's enthusiasm. Her health is destroyed, on account
  of which she is prevented from having any enjoyment here below. Only such
  a creature could have cut down my walnut trees! I can never pardon it.
  Hear her reasons. The falling leaves made the court wet and dirty ; the
  branches obstructed the light ; boys threw stones at the nuts when they
  were ripe , and the noise affected her nerves; and disturbed her profound
  meditations , when she was weighing the diffculties of Kennicot, Semler,
  and Michaelis. Finding that all the parish, particularly the old people,
  were displeased , I asked "why they allowed it ?" "Ah , sir!" they
  replied , "when the steward orders , what can we poor peasants do ?
  " But one thing has happened well. The steward and the vicar(who , for
  once, thought to reap some advantage from the caprices of his wife )
  intended to divide the trees between them. The revenue-office , being
  informed of it, revived an old claim to the ground where the trees had
  stood , and sold them to the best bidder. There they still lie on the
  ground. If I were the sovereign , I should know how to deal with them
  all , vicar, steward, and revenue-office. Sovereign, did I say? I
  should, in that case , care little about the trees that grew in the
  country.
  OCTOBER 10. Only to gaze upon her dark eyes is to me a source of happiness!
  And what grieves me , is , that Albert does not seem so happy as he
  —— hoped to be—— as I should have been—— if —— I am no friend
  to these pauses , but here I cannot express it otherwise ; and probably
  I am explicit enough.
  OCTOBER 12. Ossian has superseded Homer in my heart. To what a world
  does the illustrious bard carry me! To wander over pathless wilds, surrounded
  by impetuous whirlwinds , where, by the feeble light of the moon, we
  see the spirits of our ancestors; to hear from the mountain-tops , mid
  the roar of torrents, their plaintive sounds issuing from deep caverns,
  and the sorrowful lamentations of a maiden who sighs and expires on the
  mossy tomb of the warrior by whom she was adored. I meet this bard with
  silver hair ; he wanders in the valley ; he seeks the footsteps of his
  fathers , and, alas ! he finds only their tombs. Then, contemplating
  the pale moon , as she sinks beneath the waves of the rolling sea, the
  memory of bygone days strikes the mind of the hero, days when approaching
  danger invigorated the brave, and the moon shone upon his bark laden
  with spoils , and returning in triumph. When I read in his countenance
  deep sorrow , when I see his dying glory sink exhausted into the grave,
  as he inhales new and heart-thrilling delight from his approaching union
  with his beloved, and he casts a look on the cold earth and the tall
  grass which is so soon to cover him , and then exclaims, "The traveller
  will come ,—— he will come who has seen my beauty, and he will ask,
  'Where is the bard, where is the illustrious son of Fingal ?