Page:The Works of J. W. von Goethe, Volume 9.djvu/183

Rh Hears a murmur, and, while all are sleeping, Wonders at the sounds, and what they meant. Who was whispering so?— Voices soft and low, In mysterious converse strangely blent.

Straightway by the door herself she stations, There to be assured what was amiss; And she hears love's fiery protestations, Words of ardour and endearing bliss: "Hark, the cock! 'Tis light! But to-morrow night Thou wilt come again?" and kiss on kiss.

Quick the latch she raises, and, with features Anger-flushed, into the chamber hies. "Are there in my house such shameless creatures, Minions to the stranger's will?" she cries. By the dying light. Who is't meets her sight? God! 'tis her own daughter she espies!

And the youth in terror sought to cover, With her own light veil, the maiden's head, Clasped her close; but, gliding from her lover. Back the vestment from her brow she spread, And her form upright, As with ghostly might, Long and slowly rises from the bed.

"Mother! mother! wherefore thus deprive me Of such joy as I this night have known?