THE OATH OF VENGEANCE.
Speechless with surprise, the youth had listened to the song, and fixed
his large eyes steadfastly on the two officers, whose uniforms and
wounds revealed to him the melancholy fate that had befallen them during
the last few days.
When the two were silent, he approached them with an air of profound
respect.
"Bravo, officers of Auerstadt or Jena," he said, with a voice trembling
with emotion, "permit a poor young wanderer to present his respects to
you, and to thank you, in the name of the German fatherland, for the
wounds on your foreheads. Such wounds are also an 'ornament of the
brave.'" [An allusion to the last line of the original song.]
"And such words are an ornament of a noble heart," exclaimed Schill,
offering his hand to the youth.
He took it with a joyful gesture, and, quickly kneeling down, imprinted
a glowing kiss on the feverish hand of the wounded officer.
"My God!" exclaimed Schill, surprised, "what are you doing? How can a
man kiss another's hand and kneel before him? Rise!"
"I am no man," said the youth, deeply moved. "I am but a poor boy, who
has not yet done any thing for his country, and, perhaps, never will be
able to do any thing for it, but who feels the most profound respect for
those who were more fortunate than he. I, therefore, kiss your hand as
Catholics kiss the hands of their saints and martyrs.
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