“To see and to be seen,” cried Wilhelm. “‘Spectatum veniunt; veniunt spectentur ut ipsae,’ as Ovid says.”
The friends quitted the wall.
“There comes my scholar, little Jonas!” cried Wilhelm. “The boy was better dressed than at his last appearance; quickly he pulled his little cap off and stood still: a young girl in a wretched garb held him by the hand.
“Good day, my clever lad!” said Wilhelm, and his glance rested on the girl: she was of a singularly elegant form; had she only carried herself better she would have been a perfect beauty. It was Psyche herself who stood beside Cupid. She smiled in a friendly manner; the little lad had certainly told her who the gentlemen were; but she became crimson, and cast down her eyes when Wilhelm looked back after her: he beckoned to Jonas, who immediately came to him. The girl was his sister, he said, and was called Eva. Wilhelm nodded to her, and the friends went on.
“That was a beautiful girl!” said Wilhelm, and looked back once more. “A rosebud that one could kiss until it became a full blown rose!”
“During the experiment the rosebud might easily be broken!” answered Otto; “at least such is the case with the real flower. But do not look back again, that is a sin!”
“Sin?” repeated Wilhelm; “no, then it is a very innocent sin! Believe me, it flatters the little creature that we should admire her beauty. I can well imagine how enchanting a loving look from a rich young gentleman may be for a weak, feminine mind. The sweet words which one can say are as poison which enters the blood. I have still a clear conscience. Not ONE innocent soul have I poisoned!”
“And yet you are rich and young enough to do so,” returned Otto, not without bitterness. “Our friends precede us with a good example: here come some of our own age; they are acquainted with the roses!”
“Good evening, thou good fellow!” was the greeting Wilhelm received from three or four of the young men.
“Are you on Thou-terms with all these?” inquired Otto.