Each did the others work more beautify;
So diff'ring both in wills agreed in fine:
So all agreed, through sweet diversity,
This garden to adorn with all variety.

And in the midst of all a fountain stood,

Of richest substance that on earth might be,

So pure and shiny that the silver flood

Through every channel running one might see;
Most goodly it with curious imagery
Was over-wrought, and shapes of naked boys,
Of which some seem'd of lively jollity
To fly about, playing their wanton toys,
Whilst others did themselves embay in liquid joys.

And over all of purest gold was spread

A trail of ivy in his native hue;

For the rich metal was so colorèd,

That wight, who did not well avised it view,
Would surely deem it to be ivy true.
Low his lascivious arms adown did creep,

That themselves dipping in the silver dew
Their fleecy flow'rs they fearfully did steep,
Which drops of crystal seem'd for wantonness to weep.

Infinite streams continually did well

Out of this fountain, sweet and fair to see,

The which into an ample laver fell,

And shortly grew to so great quantity,

That like a little lake it seem'd to be;

Whose depth exceeded not three cubits height,

That through the waves one might the bottom see, All paved beneath with jasper shining bright, That seem'd the fountain in that sea did sail upright.

Eftsoones they heard a most melodious sound,
Of all that mote delight a dainty ear,

Such as at once might not on living ground,
Save in this paradise, be heard elsewhere:
Right hard it was for wight which did it hear,
To read what manner music that mote be;
For all that pleasing is to living ear
Was there consorted in one harmony:

Birds, voices, instruments, winds, waters, all agree;

The joyous birds shrouded in cheerful shade,
Their notes unto the voice attemp'red sweet;
Th' angelical soft trembling voices made

To th' instruments divine respondence meet;
The silver-sounding instruments did meet
With the base murmur of the waters' fall;

The waters' fall with difference discreet, Now soft, now loud, unto the wind did call; The gentle warbling wind low answerèd to all.

The whiles some one did chant this lovely lay:"Ah! see, whoso fair thing dost fain to see,

In springing flow'r the image of thy day!

Ah! see the virgin rose, how sweetly she
Doth first peep forth with bashful modesty;
That fairer seems the less ye see her may!

Lo! see soon after how more bold and free
Her bared bosom she doth broad display;
Lo! see soon after how she fades and falls away!

"So passeth, in the passing of a day,

Of mortal life the leaf, the bud, the flow'r;

Ne more doth flourish after first decay,

That erst was sought to deck both bed and bow'r Of many a lady and many a paramour. Gather therefore the rose whilest yet is prime,

For soon comes age that will her pride deflow'r; Gather the rose of love whilest yet is time,

Whilst loving thou mayst loved be with equal crime."

He ceased; and then 'gan all the quire of birds
Their diverse notes t'attune unto his lay,

As in approvance of his pleasing words.

The constant pair heard all that he did say,
Yet swervèd not, but kept their forward way
Through many covert groves and thickets close,
In which they creeping did at last display
That wanton lady, with her lover loose,
Whose sleepy head she in her lap did soft dispose.

The noble elf and careful palmer drew

So nigh them, minding naught but lustful game, That sudden forth they on them rush'd and threw A subtle net, which only for that same The skillful palmer formally did frame;

So held them under fast; the whiles the rest

Fled all away for fear of fouler shame.

The fair enchantress, so unwares opprest,

Tried all her arts and all her sleights thence out to wrest;

And eke her lover strove: but all in vain;

For that same net so cunningly was wound,

That neither guile nor force might it distrain.

They took them both, and both them strongly bound
In captive bands, which there they ready found:

But her in chains of adamant he tied,

For nothing else might keep her safe and sound; But Verdant (so he hight) he soon untied,

And counsel sage instead thereof to him applied.

But all those pleasant bow'rs, and palace brave,
Guyon broke down with rigor pitiless;
Ne ought their goodly workmanship might save
Them from the tempest of his wrathfulness,
But that their bliss he turn'd to balefulness:
Their groves he fell'd; their gardens did deface;
Their arbors spoil; their cabinets suppress;
Their banquet-houses burn; their buildings raze;
And of the fairest late, now made the foulest place.

Then led they her away, and eke that knight

They with them led, both sorrowful and sad: The way they came, the same return'd they right, Till they arrivèd where they lately had

Charm'd those wild beasts that raged with fury mad; Which, now awaking, fierce at them 'gan fly,

As in their mistress' rescue, whom they lad:

But them the palmer soon did pacify.

Then Guyon ask'd, what meant those beasts which there did

lie ?

Said he: "These seeming beasts are men indeed,
Whom this enchantress hath transformed thus;
Whylome her lovers, which her lusts did feed,
Now turned into figures hideous,
According to their minds like monstruous.
Sad end," quoth he, "of life intemperate,
And mournful meed of joys delicious!
But, palmer, if it mote thee so aggrate,
Let them returnèd be unto their former state."

Straightway he with his virtuous staff them strook, And straight of beasts they comely men became: Yet being men, they did unmanly look

And stared ghastly; some for inward shame,

And some for wrath to see their captive dame: But one above the rest in special

That had an hog been late, hight Grylle by name, Repinèd greatly, and did him miscall

That had from hoggish form him brought to natural.

Said Guyon: "See the mind of beastly man,

That hath so soon forgot the excellence

Of his creation, when he life began,

That now he chooseth with vile difference
To be a beast, and lack intelligence!"
To whom the palmer thus: "The dunghill kind
Delights in filth and foul incontinence:

Let Gryll be Gryll, and have his hoggish mind;

But let us hence depart whilest weather serves and wind.”

FRIEDRICH SPIELHAGEN

(1829-)

ORKS SO widely different as Gutzkow's 'Knights of the Mind,' Freytag's 'Debit and Credit,' and Spielhagen's 'Problematic Natures,' all acknowledge in Wilhelm Meister' their common spiritual ancestor. 'Wilhelm Meister' is at once the finest blossom of German novelistic literature, and the seed-sack of its later yield. Romanticist and realist alike have found in this granary of thought some seed to plant in their own minds, and to develop in their own ways. It is far from being a model of form and compo

FRIEDRICH SPIELHAGEN

sition, but it is an inexhaustible treasurehouse of ideas; and to these subsequent writers of fiction have gone, choosing each that which best suited him, and transforming it into something new and fair, and withal his own. Structurally these later novelists have made a great advance over 'Wilhelm Meister.' As the complex George Eliot was the lineal descendant of the simple Madame de La Fayette, so Spielhagen, with his mastery of technique, is the descendant of Goethe, with his careless construction and often amorphous heaping-up of thoughts. Problematic Natures' is related to Wilhelm Meister' in this respect also, that it contains materials enough to furnish forth half a dozen average novels: it is notable for its exuberance of creative power. Friedrich Spielhagen was born at Magdeburg on February 24th, 1829. His taste for philosophical and philological pursuits was gratified at Berlin, Bonn, and Greifswald; but gradually he came to find in pure literature his surest and at last exclusive stay. In the autobiography which he published in 1890, under the title of Finder und Erfinder' (Finders and Inventors), we have a detailed and voluminous account of Spielhagen's early years. His young literary predilections were fostered chiefly by chance: in his father's house there was no complete set of Goethe; only 'Hermann and Dorothea' and the first part of 'Faust.' Good fortune threw an old set of Lessing into his hands. Heine's 'Book of Songs' and Freiligrath's poems were