| |
THE CITIZENS
THUS did the modest son slip away from the angry upbraiding; | |
| But in the tone he had taken at first, the father continued: | |
| “That comes not out of a man which he has not in him; and hardly | |
| Shall the joy ever be mine of seeing my dearest wish granted: | |
| That my son may not as his father be, but a better. | 5 |
| What would become of the house, and what of the city if each one | |
| Were not with pleasure and always intent on maintaining, renewing, | |
| Yea, and improving, too, as time and the foreigner teach us! | |
| Man is not meant, forsooth, to grow from the ground like a mushroom, | |
| Quickly to perish away on the spot of ground that begot him, | 10 |
| Leaving to trace behind of himself and his animate action! | |
| As by the house we straightway can tell the mind of the master, | |
| So, when we walk through a city, we judge of the persons who rule it. | |
| For where the towers and walls are falling to ruin; where offal | |
| Lies in heaps in the gutters, and alleys with offal are littered; | 15 |
| Where from its place has started the stone, and no one resets it; | |
| Where the timbers are rotting away, and the house is awaiting | |
| Vainly its new supports,—that place we may know is ill governed. | |
| Since if not from above work order and cleanliness downward, | |
| Easily grows the citizen used to untidy postponement; | 20 |
| Just as the beggar grows likewise used to his ragged apparel. | |
| Therefore I wished that our Hermann might early set out on some travels; | |
| That he at least might behold the cities of Strasburg and Frankfort, | |
| Friendly Mannheim, too, that is cheerful and evenly builded. | |
| He that has once beheld cities so cleanly and large, never after | 25 |
| Ceases his own native city, though small it may be, to embellish. | |
| Do not the strangers who come here commend the repairs in our gateway, | |
| Notice our whitewashed tower, and the church we have newly rebuilded? | |
| Are not all praising our pavement? the covered canals full of water, | |
| Laid with a wise distribution, which furnish us profit and safety, | 30 |
| So that no sooner does fire break out than ’tis promptly arrested? | |
| Has not all this come to pass since the time of our great conflagration? | |
| Builder I six times was named by the council, and won the approval, | |
| Won moreover the heartfelt thanks of all the good burghers, | |
| Actively carrying out what I planned, and also fulfilling | 35 |
| What had by upright men been designed, and left uncompleted. | |
| Finally grew the same zeal in every one of the council; | |
| All now labor together, and firmly decided already | |
| Stands it to build the new causeway that shall with the highroad connect us. | |
| But I am sorely afraid that will not be the way with our children. | 40 |
| Some think only of pleasure and perishable apparel; | |
| Others will cower at home, and behind the stove will sit brooding. | |
| One of this kind, as I fear, we shall find to the last in our Hermann.” | |
| |
| Straightway answered and said the good and intelligent mother. | |
| “Why wilt thou always, father, be doing our son such injustice? | 45 |
| That least of all is the way to bring thy wish to fulfilment. | |
| We have no power to fashion our children as suiteth our fancy; | |
| As they are given by God, we so must have them and love them; | |
| Teach them as best we can, and let each of them follow his nature. | |
| One will have talents of one sort, and different talents another. | 50 |
| Every one uses his own; in his own individual fashion, | |
| Each must be happy and good. I will not have my Hermann found fault with; | |
| For he is worthy, I know, of the goods he shall one day inherit; | |
| Will be an excellent landlord, a pattern to burghers and builders; | |
| Neither in council, as I can foresee, will he be the most backward. | 55 |
| But thou keepest shut up in his breast all the poor fellow’s spirit, | |
| Finding such fault with him daily, and censuring as thou but now hast.” | |
| And on the instant she quitted the room, and after him hurried, | |
| Hoping she somewhere might find him, and might with her words of affection | |
| Cheer him again, her excellent son, for well he deserved it. | 60 |
| |
| Thereupon when she was gone, the father thus smiling continued: | |
| “What a strange folk, to be sure, are these women; and just like the children; | |
| Both of them bent upon living according as suiteth their pleasure, | |
| While we others must never do aught but flatter and praise them. | |
| Once for all time holds good the ancients’ trustworthy proverb: | 65 |
| ‘Whoever goes not forward comes backward.’ So must it be always.” | |
| |
| Thereupon answered and said, in a tone of reflection, the doctor: | |
| “That, sir neighbor, I willingly grant; for myself I am always | |
| Casting about for improvement,—things new, so they be not too costly. | |
| But what profits a man, who has not abundance of money, | 70 |
| Being thus active and stirring, and bettering inside and outside? | |
| Only too much is the citizen cramped: the good, though he know it, | |
| Has he no means to acquire because too slender his purse is, | |
| While his needs are too great; and thus is he constantly hampered. | |
| Many the things I had done; but then the cost of such changes | 75 |
| Who does not fear, especially now in this season of danger? | |
| Long since my house was smiling upon me in modish apparel! | |
| Long since great panes of glass were gleaming in all of the windows! | |
| But who can do as the merchant does, who, with his resources, | |
| Knows the methods as well by which the best is arrived at? | 80 |
| Look at that house over yonder,—the new one; behold with what splendor | |
| ’Gainst the background of green stand out the white spirals of stucco! | |
| Great are the panes in the windows; and how the glass sparkles and glitters, | |
| Casting quite into the shade the rest of the market-place houses! | |
| Yet just after the fire were our two houses the finest, | 85 |
| This of the Golden Lion, and mine of the sign of the Angel. | |
| So was my garden, too, throughout the whole neighborhood famous: | |
| Every traveller stopped and gazed through the red palisadoes, | |
| Caught by the beggars there carved in stone and the dwarfs of bright colors. | |
| Then whosoever had coffee served in the beautiful grotto,— | 90 |
| Standing there now all covered with dust and partly in ruins,— | |
| Used to be mightily pleased with the glimmering light of the mussels | |
| Spread out in beautiful order; and even the eye of the critic | |
| Used by the sight of my corals and potter’s ore to be dazzled. | |
| So in my parlor, too, they would always admire the painting. | 95 |
| Where in a garden are gaily dressed ladies and gentlemen walking, | |
| And with their taper fingers are plucking and holding the flowers. | |
| But who would look at it now! In sooth, so great my vexation | |
| Scarcely I venture abroad. All now must be other and tasteful, | |
| So they call it; and white are the laths and benches of wood-work; | 100 |
| Everything simple and smooth; no carving longer or gilding | |
| Can be endured, and the woods from abroad are of all the most costly. | |
| Well, I too should be glad could I get for myself something novel; | |
| Glad to keep up with the times, and be changing my furniture often; | |
| Yet must we all be afraid of touching the veriest trifle. | 105 |
| For who among us has means for paying the work-people’s wages? | |
| Lately I had an idea of giving the Archangel Michael, | |
| Making the sign of my shop, another fresh coating of gilding, | |
| And to the terrible dragon abut his feet that is winding; | |
| But I een let him stay browned as he is: I dreaded the charges.” | 110 |
| |
