Thereupon spoke the good mother, and thus with intelligence answered: 
“Son, not greater thy wish to bring thee a bride to thy chamber,
That thou mayst find thy nights a beautiful part of existence,
And that the work of the day may gain independence and freedom,
Than is thy father’s wish too, and thy mother’s.  We always have counselled,—­
Yea, we have even insisted,—­that thou shouldst select thee a maiden. 
But I was ever aware, and now my heart gives me assurance,
That till the hour appointed is come, and the maiden appointed
Shall with the hour appear, the choice will be left for the future,
While more strong than all else will be fear of grasping the wrong one. 
If I may say it, my son, I believe thou already hast chosen;
For thy heart has been touched, and been made more than wontedly tender. 
Speak it out honestly, then; for my soul has told me beforehand: 
That same maiden it is, the exile, whom thou hast elected.”

“Thou has said, mother!” the son thereupon with eagerness answered. 
“Yes, it is she; and if I to-day as my bride do not bring her
Home to our dwelling, she from me will go, perhaps vanish for ever,
Lost in the war’s confusion and sad movings hither and thither. 
Mother, for ever in vain would then our abundant possessions
Prosper before me, and seasons to come be in vain to me fruitful. 
Yea, I should hold in aversion the wonted house and the garden: 
Even my mother’s love, alas! would not comfort my sorrow. 
Every tie, so I feel in my heart, by love is unloosened
Soon as she fastens her own; and not the maid is it only
Leaves behind father and mother, to follow the man she has chosen. 
He too, the youth, no longer knows aught of mother and father,
When he the maiden, his only beloved, sees vanishing from him. 
Suffer me, then, to go hence wherever despair shall impel me: 
Since by my father himself the decisive words have been spoken;
Since his house can no longer be mine if he shut out the maiden,
Her whom alone as my bride I desire to bring to our dwelling.”

Thereupon quickly made answer the good and intelligent mother: 
“How like to rocks, forsooth, two men will stand facing each other! 
Proud and not to be moved, will neither draw near to his fellow;
Neither will stir his tongue to utter the first word of kindness. 
Therefore I tell thee, my son, a hope yet lives in my bosom,
So she be honest and good, thy father will let thee espouse her,
Even though poor, and against a poor girl so decisive his sentence. 
Many a thing he is wont to speak out in his violent fashion
Which he yet never performs; and so what he denies will consent to. 
Yet he requires a kindly word, and is right to require it:  He is the father! 
Besides we know that his wrath after dinner,—­
When he most hastily speaks, and questions all others’ opinions,—­
Signifies naught; the full force of his violent will