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So, when she had recovered sufficient breath she let down the flashing, golden-brown hair, sat up on the rock, lifted her pretty nose skyward, and poured forth melody. As she sang the tiresome old Teutonic ballad she combed away vigorously, and every now and then surveyed her features in the mirror. Ich weiss nicht was soll es bedeuten Dass ich so traurig bin
The master always stood up behind and rowed, while down on the cushions rode the hunchback, the guest of honor. There stood the master erect, plying the oar, his long black robe tucked up under the dark blue sash that exactly matched the color of the gondola. The man's motto might have been, "Ich Dien," or that passage of Scripture, "He that is greatest among you shall be your servant."
Our eyes never for a fraction of a second lost sight of that thumb; it never moved; and yet in a few minutes the slate was produced, covered on both sides with writing. Messages were there, and still are there, for we preserved the slate, written in French, Spanish, Dutch, Chinese, Japanese, Gujerati, and ending with 'Ich bin ein Geist, und liebe mein Lagerbier. We were utterly baffled.
You half feel as though it were "fine" not to be ordered about; but the "best" people in the Christian sense of the word, and the "best" people in the worldly sense, inherit the feelings of the ages of chivalry, that, the nobler a man was, the more deference and service he showed to others: "Ich dien" is the motto of chivalry and worldly greatness.
There is no motto that becomes the wise man better than ICH DIEN, "I serve;" and "They also serve who only stand and wait."
Again the breath of the sea is brought in when the Dutchman a second time warns her, and the sea music roars as a sinister accompaniment. Senta only becomes the more exalted. "Wohl kenn' ich Weibes heil'ge Pflichten," she sings to music which is absolutely the finest page in the opera. The pure white flame of a deathless devotion is here.
"If, as seems most likely, they are German words, they exactly express what we have seen so often in his life, the union of 'Hoch muth, that is high spirit, with 'Ich Dien, I serve. They bring before us the very scene itself after the battle of Poitiers, where, after having vanquished the whole French nation, he stood behind the captive king, and served him like an attendant."
Unt ich ish hoong unt troundt unt darrdt unt vedderd unt drakt out indoo de ribber, unt dolt if I ko back do mein vrau unt kinder I zhall pe kilt vunst more already. Unt I shpose if ich shtays here der Gainduckee beobles vill hang me unt dar me unt trown me all over in der ribber, doo, already, pekoz I ish Deutsch.
These are the white lies of physiology. In regard to each of these, the young man must count the cost. Count all the cost and be prepared to pay. The song of Ulrich von Huetten, when he gave his life for religious freedom, is worth applying to all other costly things. He sang: "'Ich habe gewagt mit Sinnen Und trage des noch kein Reu." "With open eyes have I dared it, and cherish no regret."
The green fields and meadows enamelled with painted flowers, how one detests them! how one would rejoice to see them well sprinkled with frost or burnt up to brown in the dry days! the birds, the birds which warble through every sonnet, canzone, sirventes, glosa, dance lay, roundelay, virelay, rondel, ballade, and whatsoever else it may be called, how one wishes them silent for ever, or their twitter, the tarantarantandei of the eternal German nightingale especially, drowned by a good howling wind J After any persistent study of mediæval poetry, one's feeling towards spring is just similar to that of the morbid creature in Schubert's "Müllerin," who would not stir from home for the dreadful, dreadful greenness, which he would fain bleach with tears, all around: Ich möchte ziehn in die Welt hinaus, hinaus in die weite Welt, Wenn's nur so grün, so grün nicht war da draussen in Wald und Feld.
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