少年维特之烦恼(英文版)-第20章

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　　〃Rise　moon！　from　behind　thy　clouds。　Stars　of　the　night　，　arise！
Lead　me　，　some　light　，　to　the　place　where　my　love　rests　from　the　chase
alone　！　His　bow　near　him　unstrung，　his　dogs　panting　around　him！　But
here　I　must　sit　alone　by　the　rock　of　the　mossy　stream。　The　stream　and
the　wind　roar　aloud。　I　hear　not　the　voice　of　my　love！　Why　delays　my　Salgar
；　why　the　chief　of　the　hill　his　promise？　Here　is　the　rock　and　here　the
tree！　here　is　the　roaring　stream　！　Thou　didst　promise　with　night　to
be　here。　Ah　！　whither　is　my　Salgar　gone？　With　thee　I　would　fly　from
my　father　，　with　thee　from　my　brother　of　pride。　Our　race　have　long　been
foes：　we　are　not　foes，　O　Salgar　！

　　〃Cease　a　little　while　，　O　wind　！　stream　，　be　thou　silent　awhile！
let　my　voice　be　heard　around！　let　my　wanderer　hear　me！　Salgar　！　it
is　Colma　who　calls。　Here　is　the　tree　and　the　rock。　Salgar　，　my　love，
I　am　here　！　Why　delayest　thou　thy　ing　？　Lo　！　the　calm　moon　es
forth。　The　flood　is　bright　in　the　vale。　The　rocks　are　gray　on　the　steep。
I　see　him　not　on　the　brow。　His　dogs　e　not　before　him　with　tidings　of
his　near　approach。　Here　I　must　sit　alone！

　　〃Who　lie　on　the　heath　beside　me　？　Are　they　my　love　and　my　brother？
Speak　to　me　，　O　my　friends　！　To　Colma　they　give　no　reply。　Speak　to　me
：　I　am　alone　！　My　soul　is　tormented　with　fears。　Ah，　they　are　dead！
Their　swords　are　red　from　the　fight。　O　my　brother　！　my　brother　！　why
hast　thou　slain　my　Salgar　！　Why，　O　Salgar　，　hast　thou　slain　my　brother！
Dear　were　ye　both　to　me　！　what　shall　I　say　in　your　praise？　Thou　wert
fair　on　the　hill　among　thousands！　he　was　terrible　in　fight　！　Speak　to
me！　hear　my　voice！　hear　me，　sons　of　my　love！　They　are　silent！　silent
for　ever！　Cold　，　cold　，　are　their　breasts　of　clay！　Oh　，　from　the
rock　on　the　hill，　from　the　top　of　the　windy　steep，　speak，　ye　ghosts
of　the　dead　！　Speak，　I　will　not　be　afraid　！　Whither　are　ye　gone　to
rest？　In　what　cave　of　the　hill　shall　I　find　the　departed　？　No　feeble
voice　is　on　the　gale：　no　answer　half　drowned　in　the　storm！

　　〃I　sit　in　my　grief：　I　wait　for　morning　in　my　tears　！　Rear　the　tomb，
ye　friends　of　the　dead。　Close　it　not　till　Colma　e。　My　life　flies　away
like　a　dream。　Why　should　I　stay　behind？　Here　shall　I　rest　with　my　friends，
by　the　stream　of　the　sounding　rock。　When　night　es　on　the　hill　when
the　loud　winds　arise　my　ghost　shall　stand　in　the　blast，　and　mourn　the
death　of　my　friends。　The　hunter　shall　hear　from　his　booth　；　he　shall
fear，　but　love　my　voice！　For　sweet　shall　my　voice　be　for　my　friends
：　pleasant　were　her　friends　to　Colma。

　　〃Such　was　thy　song，　Minona　，　softly　blushing　daughter　of　Torman。
Our　tears　descended　for　Colma　，　and　our　souls　were　sad　！　Ullin　came
with　his　harp　；　he　gave　the　song　of　Alpin。　The　voice　of　Alpin　was　pleasant，
the　soul　of　Ryno　was　a　beam　of　fire　！　But　they　had　rested　in　the　narrow
house　：　their　voice　had　ceased　in　Selma！　Ullin　had　returned　one　day
from　the　chase　before　the　heroes　fell。　He　heard　their　strife　on　the　hill
：　their　song　was　soft，　but　sad！　They　mourned　the　fall　of　Morar　，　first
of　mortal　men　！　His　soul　was　like　the　soul　of　Fingal　：　his　sword　like
the　sword　of　Oscar。　But　he　fell　，　and　his　father　mourned　：　his　sister's
eyes　were　full　of　tears。　Minona's　eyes　were　full　of　tears　，　the　sister
of　car…borne　Morar。　She　retired　from　the　song　of　Ullin，　like　the　moon
in　the　west　，　when　she　foresees　the　shower　，　and　hides　her　fair　head
in　a　cloud。　I　touched　the　harp　with　Ullin　：　the　song　of　morning　rose　！

　　〃Ryno。　The　wind　and　the　rain　are　past　，　calm　is　the　noon　of　day。
The　clouds　are　divided　in　heaven。　Over　the　green　hills　flies　the　inconstant
sun。　Red　through　the　stony　vale　es　down　the　stream　of　the　hill。　Sweet
are　thy　murmurs　，　O　stream　！　but　more　sweet　is　the　voice　I　hear。　It
is　the　voice　of　Alpin　，　the　son　of　song，　mourning　for　the　dead！　Bent
is　his　head　of　age：　red　his　tearful　eye。　Alpin　，　thou　son　of　song　，
why　alone　on　the　silent　hill？　why　plainest　thou　，　as　a　blast　in　the
wood　as　a　wave　on　the　lonely　shore？

　　〃Alpin。　My　tears，　O　Ryno　！　are　for　the　dead　my　voice　for　those　that
have　passed　away。　Tall　thou　art　on　the　hill　；　fair　among　the　sons　of
the　vale。　But　thou　shalt　fall　like　Morar：　the　mourner　shall　sit　on　thy
tomb。　The　hills　shall　know　thee　no　more　：　thy　bow　shall　lie　in　thy　hall
unstrung！

　　〃Thou　wert　swift，　O　Morar！　as　a　roe　on　the　desert　：　terrible　as
a　meteor　of　fire。　Thy　wrath　was　as　the　storm。　Thy　sword　in　battle　as　lightning
in　the　field。　Thy　voice　was　as　a　stream　after　rain，　like　thunder　on　distant
hills。　Many　fell　by　thy　arm　：　they　were　consumed　in　the　flames　of　thy
wrath。　But　when　thou　didst　return　from　war，　how　peaceful　was　thy　brow。
Thy　face　was　like　the　sun　after　rain：　like　the　moon　in　the　silence　of
night　：　calm　as　the　breast　of　the　lake　when　the　loud　wind　is　laid。

　　〃Narrow　is　thy　dwelling　now　！　dark　the　place　of　thine　abode！　With
three　steps　I　pass　thy　grave　，　O　thou　who　wast　so　great　before！　Four
stones，　with　their　heads　of　moss　，　are　the　only　memorial　of　thee。　A
tree　with　scarce　a　leaf　，　long　grass　which　whistles　in　the　wind，　mark
to　the　hunter's　eye　the　grave　of　the　mighty　Morar。　Morar！　thou　art　low
indeed。　Thou　hast　no　mother　to　mourn　thee　，　no　maid　with　her　tears　of
love。　Dead　is　she　that　brought　thee　forth。　Fallen　is　the　daughter　of　Morglan。

　　〃Who　on　his　staff　is　this　？　Who　is　this　whose　head　is　white　with
age　，　whose　eyes　are　red　with　tears，　who　quakes　at　every　step　？　It
is　thy　father　，　O　Morar！　the　father　of　no　son　but　thee。　He　heard　of
thy　fame　in　war　，　he　heard　of　foes　dispersed。　He　heard　of　Morar's　renown，
why　did　he　not　hear　of　his　wound？　Weep　，　thou　father　of　Morar　！　Weep，
but　thy　son　heareth　thee　not。　Deep　is　the　sleep　of　the　dead　，　low　their
pillow　of　dust。　No　more　shall　he　hear　thy　voice　，　no　more　awake　at　thy
call。　When　shall　it　be　morn　in　the　grave，　to　bid　the　slumberer　awake　？
Farewell，　thou　bravest　of　men！　thou　conqueror　in　the　field！　but　the
field　shall　see　thee　no　more，　nor　the　dark　wood　be　lightened　with　the
splendour　of　thy　steel。　Thou　has　left　no　son。　The　song　shall　preserve
thy　name。　Future　times　shall　hear　of　thee　they　shall　hear　of　the　fallen
Morar　！

　　〃The　grief　of　all　arose　，　but　most　the　bursting　sigh　of　Armin。　He
remembers　the　death　of　his　son，　who　fell　in　the　days　of　his　youth。　Carmor
was　near　the　hero　，　the　chief　of　the　echoing　Galmal。　Why　burst　the　sigh
of　Armin？　he　said。　Is　there　a　cause　to　mourn　？　The　song　es　with　its
music　to　melt　and　please　the　soul。　It　is　like　soft　mist　that，　rising
from　a　lake　，　pours　on　the　silent　vale　；　the　green　flowers　are　filled
with　dew，　but　the　sun　returns　in　his　strength，　and　the　mist　is　gone。
Why　art　thou　sad，　O　Armin，　chief　of　sea…surrounded　Gorma？

　　〃Sad　I　am　！　nor　small　is　my　cause　of　woe　！　Carmor　，　thou　hast　lost
no　son；　thou　hast　lost　no　daughter　of　beauty。　Colgar　the　valiant　lives，
and　Annira，　fairest　maid。　The　boughs　of　thy　house　ascend　，　O　Carmor　！
but　Armin　is　the　last　of　his　race。　Dark　is　thy　bed，　O　Daura！　deep　thy
sleep　in　the　tomb　！　When　shalt　thou　wake　with　thy　songs？　with　all　thy
voice　of　music？

　　〃Arise，　winds　of　autumn，　arise：　blow　along　the　heath。　Streams　of
the　mountains　，　roar　；　roar　，　tempests　in　the　groves　of　my　oaks！　Walk
through　broken　clouds　，　O　moon　！　show　thy　pale　face　at　intervals；　bring
to　my　mind　the　night　when　all　my　children　fell，　when　Arindal　the　mighty
fell——　when　Daura　the　lovely　failed。　Daura，　my　daughter，　thou　wert
fair，　fair　as　the　moon　on　Fura　，　white　as　the　driven　snow　，　sweet　as
the　breathing　gale。　Arindal　，　thy　bow　was　strong　，　thy　spear　was　swift
on　the　field，　thy　look　was　like　mist　on　the　wave　，　thy　shield　a　red
cloud　in　a　storm！　Armar，　renowned　in　war，　came　and　sought　Daura's　love。
He　was　not　long　refused　：　fair　was　the　hope　of　their　friends。

　　〃Erath，　son　of　Odgal　，　repined：　his　brother　had　been　slain　by　Armar。
He　came　disguised　like　a　son　of　the　sea　：　fair　was　his　cliff　on　the　wave，
white　his　locks　of　age，　calm　his　serious　brow。　Fairest　of　women，　he
said，　lovely　daughter　of　Armin　！　a　rock　not　distant　in　the　sea　bears
a　tree　on　its　side；　red　shines　the　fruit　afar。　There　Armar　waits　for
Daura。　I　e　to　carry　his　love　！　she　went　she　called　on　Armar。　Nought
answered，　but　the　son　of　the　rock。　Armar　，　my　love，　my　love！　why　tormentest
thou　me　with　fear　？　Hear　，　son　of　Arnart，　hear　！　it　is　Daura　who　calleth
thee。　Erath　，　the　traitor，　fled　laughing　to　the　land。　She　lifted　up
her　voice　——　she　called　for　her　brother　and　her　father。　Arindal　！　Armin！
none　to　relieve　you　，　Daura。

　　〃Her　voice　came　over　the　sea。　Arindal　，　my　son　，　descended　from
the　hill，　rough　in　the　spoils　of　the　chase。　His　arrows　rattled　by　his
side；　his　bow　was　in　his　hand，　five　dark…gray　dogs　attended　his　steps。
He　saw　fierce　Erath　on　the　shore；　he　seized　and　bound　him　to　an　oak。
Thick　wind　the　thongs　of　the　hide　around　his　limbs；　he　loads　the　winds
with　his　groans。　Arindal　ascends　the　deep　in　his　boat　to　bring　Daura　to
land。　Armar　came　in　his　wrath　，　and　let　fly　the　gray…feathered　shaft。
It　sung　，　it　sunk　in　thy　heart　，　O　Arindal，　my　son　！　for　Erath　the
traitor　thou　diest。　The　oar　is　stopped　at　once：　he　panted　on　the　rock，
and　expired。　What　is　thy　grief，　O　Daura，　when　round　thy　feet　is　poured
thy　brother's　blood。　The　boat　is　broken　in　twain。　Armar　plunges　into　the
sea　to　rescue　his　Daura　，　or　die。　Sudden　a　blast　from　a　hill　came　over
the　waves　；　he　sank，　and　he　rose　no　more。

　　〃Alone，　on　the　sea…beat　rock　，　my　daughter　was　heard　to　plain
；　frequent　and　loud　were　her　cries。　What　could　her　father　do　？　All　night
I　stood　on　the　shore：　I　saw　her　by　the　faint　beam　of　the　moon。　All　night
I　heard　her　cries。　Loud　was　the　wind；　the　rain　beat　hard　on　the　hill。
Before　morning　appeared　，　her　voice　was　weak　；　it　died　away　like　the
evening　breeze　among　the　grass　of　the　rocks。　Spent　with　grief　，　she　expired，
and　left　thee　，　Armin，　alone。　Gone　is　my　strength　in　war，　fallen　my
pride　among　women。　When　the　storms　aloft　arise，　when　the　north　lifts
the　wave　on　high，　I　sit　by　the　sounding　shore，　and　look　on　the　fatal
rock。

　　〃Often　by　the　setting　moon　I　see　the　ghosts　of　my　children；　half
viewless　they　walk　in　mournful　conference　together。〃

　　A　torrent　of　tears　which　streamed　from　Charlotte's　eyes　and　gave　relief
to　her　bursting　heart　，　stopped　Werther's　recitation。　He　threw　down　the
book，　seized　her　hand，　and　wept　bitterly。　Charlotte　leaned　upon　her
hand，　and　buried　her　face　in　her　handkerchief：　the　agitation　of　both
was　excessive。　They　felt　that　their　own　fate　was　pictured　in　the　misfortunes
of　Ossian's　heroes，　they　felt　this　together，　and　their　tears　redoubled。
Werther　supported　his　forehead　on　Charlotte's　arm　：　she　trembled　，　she
wished　to　be　gone　；　but　sorrow　and　sympathy　lay　like　a　leaden　weight
upon　her　soul。　She　recovered　herself　shortly，　and　begged　Werther　，　with
broken　sobs　，　to　leave　her　，　implored　him　with　the　utmost　earnestness
to　ply　with　her　request。　He　trembled　；　his　heart