them,
Left behind the walls of the town and the clean-looking towers,
Thus sped Hermann along, till he reach’d the familiar highway,
Not delaying a moment, and galloping uphill and downhill. 
When however at length the village steeple descried he,
And not far away lay the houses surrounded by gardens,
He began to think it was time to hold in the horses.

By the time-honour’d gloom of noble lime-trees o’er shadow’d,
Which for many a century past on the spot had been rooted,
Stood there a green and spreading grass-plot in front of the village,
Cover’d with turf, for the peasants and neighbouring townsmen a playground. 
Scooped out under the trees, to no great depth, stood a fountain. 
On descending the steps, some benches of stone might be seen there,
Ranged all around the spring, which ceaselessly well’d forth its waters,
Cleanly, enclosed by a low wall all round, and convenient to draw from. 
Hermann then determined beneath the shadow his horses
With the carriage to stop.  He did so, and spoke then as follows
“Now, my friends, get down, and go by yourselves to discover
Whether the maiden is worthy to have the hand which I offer. 
I am convinced that she is; and you’ll bring me no new or strange story: 
Had I to manage alone, I would straightway go off to the village,
And in few words should my fate by the charming creature be settled.

Her you will easily recognize ’mongst all the rest of the people,
For her appearance is altogether unlike that of others. 
But I will now describe the modest dress she is wearing:—­
First a bodice red her well-arch’d bosom upraises,
Prettily tied, while black are the stays fitting closely around her. 
Then the seams of the ruff she has carefully plaited and folded,
Which with modest grace, her chin so round is encircling. 
Free and joyously rises her head with its elegant oval,
Strongly round bodkins of silver her back-hair is many times twisted
Her blue well-plaited gown begins from under her bodice. 
And as she walks envelopes her well-turn’d ankles completely. 
But I have one thing to say, and this must expressly entreat you: 
Do not speak to the maiden, and let not your scheme be discover’d. 
But inquire of others, and hearken to all that they tell you,
When you have learnt enough to satisfy father and mother,
Then return to me straight, and we’ll settle future proceedings. 
This is the plan which I have matured, while driving you hither.”

Thus he spoke, and the friends forthwith went on to the village,
Where, in gardens and barns and houses, the multitude crowded;
All along the broad road the numberless carts were collected,
Men were feeding the lowing cattle and feeding the horses. 
Women on every hedge the linen were carefully drying,
Whilst the children in glee were splashing about in the streamlet. 
Forcing their way through the waggons, and past the men and the cattle,
Walk’d the ambassador spies, looking well to the righthand and lefthand,
Hoping somewhere to see the form of the well-described maiden;
But wherever they look’d, no trace of the girl they discover’d.