Whilst the two lovers were rejoicing together, Lothario entered the room; but instead of his old familiar, way-worn garments, they saw, to their surprise, that he was now clothed in rich attire, and moved with the proud bearing of a noble. He greeted them in courtly tones, and in answer to their astonished looks, introduced himself as the owner of the palace in which they now resided, the Count of Cipriani, whose only child, Sperata, had been stolen from him many years ago.
He then told them that, half-crazed with grief at the loss of his child, he had wandered forth in the garb of a harper from city to city and country to country, in search of his darling; and for fifteen years he had never once given up the hope of finding her at last.
From the first time of seeing Mignon, he had felt unaccountably drawn to her, for her features had reminded him of his dead wife; and now, after having heard from Wilhelm the story she had told to him of her early recollections, he had come to prove that the gipsy girl was indeed his own long-lost child.
As he spoke, the Count produced a casket, and drew from it a girdle, which he said had been almost constantly worn by his little Sperata; and at the sound of this name, a chord of memory was struck in the heart of Mignon, and she eagerly drew forth another relic from the casket. This was a little prayer-book, from which the Count said his lost child had always spelled her evening prayer; and Mignon, in whose breast a stream of sweet recollections now rushed, closed her eyes, and repeated from memory, in soft, clear tones, the same simple childish prayer that was contained in the book.
Satisfied at having thus proved beyond a doubt that the beautiful girl before him was indeed his own beloved daughter, Count Lothario clasped her in his arms with great joy; and then, placing her hand in that of Wilhelm, he bestowed his blessing upon them both.
The soft breezes and warm sunshine of her native land soon brought Mignon back to health once more; and then, restored to the arms of a devoted parent, and enraptured by the possession of Wilhelm's love, she quickly forgot her troubled past, and looked forward to a future of happiness and peace.
EUGENE ONEGIN
It was a warm evening in the late autumn, and Frau Larina, a wealthy landowner in Russia, was sitting in the garden of her beautiful country house, busily engaged upon the homely task of peeling fruit, in which she was assisted by an old nurse named Philipjewna. Through the open windows of the mansion close by came the sound of the sweet singing of her two fair young daughters, Olga and Tatiana; and as she listened to their song, the mother's heart was filled with sympathy and tender recollection, for the song was one she had herself sung in the days of her youth.
Darkness was fast closing around, and presently a band of merry peasants came trooping into the grounds, carrying sheaves of corn, which they presented to Frau Larina, for to-day was the last of the Harvest, and they had come to lay their customary tribute at the feet of their Lady Benefactress.