Straightway the son broke in, and with winged words made he answer: 
“Do so, neighbor, and go and make thine inquiries; but with thee
I should be glad if our minister here were joined in the errand: 
Two such excellent men would be irreproachable judges. 
O my father! believe me, she’s none of those wandering maidens,
Not one of those who stroll through the land in search of adventure,
And who seek to ensnare inexperienced youth in their meshes. 
No:  the hard fortunes of war, that universal destroyer,
Which is convulsing the earth and has hurled from its deep foundations
Many a structure already, have sent the poor girl into exile. 
Are not now men of high birth, the most noble, in misery roaming? 
Princes fly in disguise and kings are in banishment living. 
So alas! also is she, the best among all of her sisters,
Driven an exile from home; yet, her personal sorrows forgetting,
She is devoted to others; herself without help, she is helpful. 
Great is the want and the suffering over the earth that are spreading: 
Shall not some happiness, too, be begotten of all this affliction,
And shall not I in the arms of my wife, my trusted companion,
Look back with joy to the war, as do ye to the great conflagration?”

Outspoke the father then in a tone of decision, and answered: 
“Strangely thy tongue has been loosened, my son, which many a year past
Seemed to have stuck in thy mouth, and only to move on compulsion! 
I must experience to-day, it would seem, what threatens all fathers,
That the son’s headstrong will the mother with readiness favors,
Showing too easy indulgence; and every neighbor sides with them
When there is aught to be carried against the father and husband. 
But I will not oppose you, thus banded together:  how could I? 
For I already perceive here tears and defiance before-hand. 
Go ye therefore, inquire, in God’s name, bring me the daughter. 
But if not so, then the boy is to think no more of the maiden.”

Thus the father.  The son cried out with joyful demeanor,
“Ere it is evening the noblest of daughters shall hither be brought you,
Such as no man with sound sense in his breast can fail to be pleased with. 
Happy, I venture to hope, will be also the excellent maiden. 
Yes; she will ever be grateful for having had father and mother
Given once more in you, and such as a child most delights in. 
Now I will tarry no longer, but straightway harness the horses,
Drive forth our friends at once on the footsteps of my beloved,
Leaving them then to act for themselves, as their wisdom shall dictate,
Guide myself wholly, I promise, according to what they determine,
And, until I may call her my own, ne’er look on the maiden.” 
Thus he went forth:  the others meanwhile remained in discussion,
Rapid and earnest, considering deeply their great undertaking.