Page:The Works of J. W. von Goethe, Volume 12.djvu/18

12 aunts, who wrote very pretty verses in French—we soon divided among ourselves the office of secretary. The conceits were mostly good, and the verses tolerable. Hers, especially, had a touch of nature about them which distinguished them from all others. Without being really clever, they had a happy turn: they were playful without being bitter, and showed good-will toward every one. The father laughed heartily; and his face was lit up with joy when his daughter's verses were declared to be the best, after mine. Our unqualified approbation highly delighted him. We praised, as men praise unexpected merit,—as we praise an author who has bribed us. At last out came my lot, and chance had taken honourable care of me. It was no less a personage than the Empress of all the Russias, who was drawn to be my partner for life. The company laughed heartily at the match; and Eleonora maintained that the whole company must try their best to do honour to so eminent a consort. All began to try: a few pens were bitten to pieces. She was ready first, but wished to read last. The mother and the aunt could make nothing of the subject; and although the father was rather matter-of-fact, Ferdinand somewhat humourous, and the aunts rather reserved, still, through all, you could see friendship and good-will. At last it came to her turn. She drew a deep breath, her ease and cheerfulness left her: she did not read, but rather lisped it out, and laid it before me to read it to the rest. I was astonished, amazed. Thus does the bud of love open in beauty and modesty. I felt as if a whole spring had showered upon me all its flowers at once. Every one was silent. Ferdinand lost not his presence of mind. "Beautiful!" he exclaimed, "very beautiful! He deserves the poem as little as an empire." "If only we have rightly understood it," said the father. The rest requested I would read it once more. My eyes had