burgher,
And began by exchanging polite remarks on all subjects,
Cleverly turning and bending the talk in the proper direction. 
After long beating about the bush, he flatter’d the daughter,
And spoke well of the man and the house that gave his commission. 
Sensible people soon saw his drift, and the sensible envoy
Watch’d how the notion was taken, and then could explain himself farther. 
If they declined the proposal, why then the refusal cost nothing,
But if all prosper’d, why then the suitor for ever thereafter
Play’d the first fiddle at every family feast and rejoicing. 
For the married couple remember’d the whole of their lifetime
Whose was the skilful hand by which the marriage knot tied was. 
All this now is chang’d, and with many an excellent custom
Has gone quite out of fashion.  Each person woos for himself now. 
Everyone now must bear the weight of a maiden’s refusal
On his own shoulders, and stand all ashamed before her, if needs be.”

“Let that be as it may,” then answered the young man who scarcely
Heard what was said, and his mind had made up already in silence
“I will go myself, and out of the mouth of the maiden
Learn my own fate, for towards her I cherish the most trustful feelings
That any man ever cherish’d towards any woman whatever. 
That which she says will be good and sensible,—­this I am sure of. 
If I am never to see her again, I must once more behold her,
And the ingenuous gaze of her black eyes must meet for the last time. 
If to my heart I may clasp her never, her bosom and shoulders
I would once more see, which my arm so longs to encircle: 
Once more the mouth I would see, from which one kiss and a Yes will
Make me happy for ever, a No for ever undo me. 
But now leave me alone!  Wait here no longer.  Return you
Straight to my father and mother, in order to tell them in person
That their son was right, and that the maiden is worthy. 
And so leave me alone!  I myself shall return by the footpath
Over the hill by the pear-tree and then descend through the vineyard,
Which is the shortest way back.  Oh may I soon with rejoicing
Take the beloved one home!  But perchance all alone I must slink back
By that path to our house and tread it no more with a light heart.” 
Thus he spoke, and then placed the reins in the hands of the pastor,
Who, in a knowing way both the foaming horses restraining,
Nimbly mounted the carriage, and took the seat of the driver.

But you still delay’d, good cautious neighbour, and spoke thus
Friend, I will gladly entrust to you soul, and spirit, and mind too,
But my body and bones are not preserved in the best way
When the hand of a parson such worldly matters as reins grasps!”