Thus she spoke, and the broad stone steps meanwhile had descended
With her companion beside her, and on the low wall of the fountain
Both sat them down.  She bent herself over to draw, and he also
Took in his hand the jar that remained, and bent himself over,
And in the blue of the heavens, they, seeing their image reflected,
Friendly greetings and nods exchanged in the quivering mirror.

“Give me to drink,” the youth thereupon in his gladness petitioned,
And she handed the pitcher.  Familiarly sat they and rested,
Both leaning over their jars, till she presently asked her companion: 
“Tell me, why I find thee here, and without thy horses and wagon,
Far from the place where I met thee at first? how camest thou hither?”

Thoughtful he bent his eyes on the ground, then quietly raised them
Up to her face, and, meeting with frankness the gaze of the maiden,
Felt himself solaced and stilled.  But then impossible was it,
That he of love should speak; her eye told not of affection,
Only of clear understanding, requiring intelligent answer. 
And he composed himself quickly, and cordially said to the maiden: 
Hearken to me, my child, and let me reply to thy question. 
’Twas for thy sake that hither I came; why seek to conceal it? 
Know I live happy at home with both my affectionate parents,
Faithfully giving my aid their house and estates in directing,
Being an only son, and because our affairs are extensive. 
Mine is the charge of the farm; my father bears rule in the household;
While the presiding spirit of all is the diligent mother. 
But thine experience doubtless has taught thee how grievously servants,
Now through deceit, and now through their carelessness, harass the mistress,
Forcing her ever to change and replace one fault with another. 
Long for that reason my mother has wished for a maid in the household,
Who not with hand alone, but with heart, too, will lend her assistance,
Taking the daughter’s place, whom, alas! she was early deprived of. 
How when to-day by the wagon I saw thee, so ready and cheerful,
Witnessed the strength of thine arms, and thy limbs of such healthful proportion,
When thy intelligent speech I heard, I was smitten with wonder. 
Hastening homeward, I there to my parents and neighbors the stranger
Praised as she well deserved.  But I now am come hither to tell thee
What is their wish as mine.—­Forgive me my stammering language.”

“Hesitate not,” she, answering, said, “to tell me what follows. 
Thou dost not give me offence; I have listened with gratitude to thee: 
Speak it out honestly therefore; the sound of it will not alarm me. 
Thou wouldst engage me as servant to wait on thy father and mother,
And to look after the welt-ordered house of which ye are the owners;
And thou thinkest in me to find them a capable servant,
One who is skilled in her work, and not of a rude