MIGNON

One festal day, a lively scene was taking place in the streets of a certain little German country town; for gay crowds of holiday-makers had all turned out in their bravest attire to make merry from morn till night. A troupe of gipsy mountebanks had just arrived in the town, and seeing that a holiday was in progress, they had quickly set about regaling the idle populace with an impromptu entertainment. A merry crowd soon gathered around them, and loud bursts of applause greeted the efforts of the gipsies, who accompanied their wild songs and fantastic dances with the twanging of guitars and tambourines.

Amongst these spectators was one who seemed almost regardless of the gay scene before him: a noble-looking old man with long grey elf-locks, whose shabby, way-worn garments, and a harp which he carried, proclaimed him to be a wandering minstrel. There was a look of unutterable grief in this old man's eyes, together with a strange restless gleam, as though the soul within sought constantly for some beloved object it never could find; and every now and again he would break forth into wild snatches of song, full of heart-broken sadness, which were received by the bystanders with good-humoured indulgence, for old Lothario the Harper was a familial figure to them, and it was well known that some great sorrow had rendered him half-crazed.

The gipsy mountebanks found their audience an appreciative one; and seeing that the impromptu entertainment was likely to prove profitable, the chief, a fierce-looking rascal named Giarno, announced that Mignon, the fairest and most talented of their gipsy maidens, would now give an exhibition of the famous egg-dance. So saying, he thrust forward a beautiful young girl, in whose soft dark eyes fear and scornful resistance seemed struggling for the mastery; and it was soon plain to all that she regarded the lusty Giarno as a cruel tyrant, whom she was at last determined to defy, for, upon being bidden by him to commence her dance, she utterly refused to do so.

Alas, poor Mignon! Of noble birth, she had been stolen from her home in early childhood by the gipsies with whom she had been brought up; and Giarno the Mountebank, seeing in her beauty and grace a means of attracting audiences and securing gain, had compelled her to dance in the streets of every town and village they passed through, frequently beating her cruelly when, through fatigue or misery, she failed to please him.

For many years the poor child, through fear of her harsh master, was forced to obey his will; but as she advanced to maidenhood, all her natural high-born instincts of refinement and modesty revolted against the publicity of the life she was compelled to lead, and now, at last, she determined to resist. Outraged by the free glances of admiration cast upon her by the careless gallants in the crowd, she shrank back and tried to escape, and when Giarno roughly seized her by the arms and angrily ordered her again to dance, she announced boldly that she would not perform. Enraged at her refusal, the fierce Giarno seized his stick, and declared that he would beat her unless she obeyed him instantly; but, in spite of his threats, brave little Mignon still declined to do his bidding.

The old harper, Lothario, had been watching this scene with eager interest, feeling himself drawn to the pretty Mignon by some unaccountable attraction; and on seeing the poor girl shrink back from the upraised arm of her tyrant master, he hurried forward, calling out as he approached: "Courage, maiden! I will protect you!"

Before he reached her side, however, a second defender arrived upon the scene: a handsome youth, who, rushing forward and snatching the stick from Giarno's hand, bade him promise instantly not to harm the gipsy girl, as he valued his life. Cowed by this sudden onslaught, the bully drew back, muttering apologetically that he did but seek additional gains by the performance of his dancing-girl; but upon receiving from his assailant a few coins in compensation for his loss, he was contented, and withdrew with Mignon from the crowd.

The bold cavalier who had thus so timely come to the rescue of the pretty gipsy maid was a Viennese student, by name Wilhelm Meister, who, being young, rich, and gay, was for the time being amusing himself by travelling from place to place, being eager to see the world and engage in the excitements of youth. His natural generosity and kindly pity had led him to interfere on Mignon's behalf; and now, as he strolled away to a refreshment garden near by, he felt elated by his encounter, and longed for further adventures.

Now it happened that the whole of this little scene had been witnessed from a balcony opposite by two strangers to the town—an actor named Laertes, and Filina, his leading lady, an actress of much beauty, and fascinating but coquettish manners; and being greatly struck by the handsome appearance and gallant behaviour of Wilhelm Meister, the lady desired to make his acquaintance, hoping to add him to her already long list of admirers.

Consequently, the two made their way to the refreshment gardens; and here Laertes soon entered into friendly conversation with Wilhelm, telling him of the misfortunes of the strolling theatrical company to which he belonged, and of the attractive charms of the lively Filina.

Wilhelm was greatly amused by the exaggerated conversation of the actor; and when he was presently introduced to Filina, he was so delighted with the sparkling looks of the fair actress that he quickly fell under the spell of her fascinations. He walked about with her for some time; and when she at length left him, he determined to see her again, in spite of the fact that Laertes had warned him that she was a born coquette.

As he came away from the garden, he met the gipsy troupe once more; and suddenly catching sight of her defender, the grateful Mignon sprang forward at once, and kissing his hand, began to pour forth heart-felt thanks for his protection of her. Wilhelm was touched by her simple gratitude, and began to question her, being struck by her refinement and ethereal beauty; and then Mignon told him her pitiful little story, how she had been stolen by the gipsies when scarcely more than a babe, and how harshly she had been treated by them since.

She could remember little of her early life, except that one terrible day, when playing near the brink of a clear blue lake, she had been suddenly seized and borne off by the lawless Bohemians; but her memory being stirred by the questions put to her, she presently broke out into a rapturous recollection of her native country, describing it as a land of orange-trees and roses, of soft breezes and everlasting blue skies, from which Wilhelm gathered her home to have been in Italy.

Whilst they were talking together, the mountebank, Giarno, approached, and remarking that Wilhelm seemed to have taken a fancy to Mignon, he suggested that the young student should buy the girl's freedom, paying him a ransom for her, upon receipt of which he would renounce all rights in his favour. Eager to rescue the poor girl from so harsh a master, Wilhelm gladly agreed to the proposal, paying over to the gipsy a hundred ducats at once; and Giarno quickly departed, rejoicing at the good bargain he had made.

Mignon, delighted at the thought of her freedom, again poured forth grateful thanks upon her benefactor, for whom a passionate love, excited by his generosity and pity, was already springing up in her maiden heart, and then, turning to old Lothario the Harper, who was also hovering near, still attracted by some deep feeling he could not fathom, she begged him to rejoice with her.

Leaving the now happy girl with Lothario, Wilhelm strolled back to the gardens, where he was soon joined again by Filina and Laertes, who announced that they had just received the news of an important engagement. A certain Baron Rosenberg, who was entertaining a company of noble guests at his castle in the neighbourhood, had instructed the strolling players to perform at a splendid fête he was giving in their honour; and Filina, determined not to be parted from her new admirer, now suggested that Wilhelm should accompany them as poet attached to the company.

Wilhelm, just ripe for such an adventure as this, and dazzled by the charms of the coquettish Filina, with whom he already fancied himself in love, readily agreed to the proposal, promising to join them at the fête; and when the two players had departed, he returned to Lothario and Mignon, telling the latter that he intended to place her with some worthy people in the town, who would watch over her welfare.

But Mignon, already passionately devoted to her benefactor, whom she persisted in regarding as her master, implored him not to send her away from him; and she begged hard to be permitted to accompany him on his travels in the disguise of a page, that she might serve him wherever he went.

Wilhelm shook his head, gently removing her clinging hands from his arm; and the old harper now came forward and offered to be her guardian, declaring that if she would roam with him, he would watch over her with loving care.

Then Wilhelm, seeing the look of disappointment and grief upon the sweet face of the gipsy girl, relented, and, touched by her devotion, said that she might remain with him for the present, if she chose.

So when, some days later, the young student, after completing his preparations, set off for the Castle of Rosenberg, Mignon joyfully accompanied him in the garb of a page; and old Lothario, determined to keep a watch over the beautiful maiden whose appearance so strangely moved him, followed to the same neighbourhood, that he might be near at hand should harm befall her.

Upon arriving at the castle, Wilhelm quickly obtained admission to the suite of handsome apartments that had been allotted to the fair Filina, who, as the favourite "Star" of the theatrical company, was receiving every mark of attention and admiration from the Baron and his distinguished guests; and the charming actress greeted him with such evident pleasure that the young student, intoxicated by her subtle witcheries, was filled with delight.

The timid Mignon, after being received with coldness and laughing scorn by the actress, retired to a recess at the far end of the boudoir; and as she heard her beloved benefactor's protestations of admiration and regard for the gay pleasure-seeker before him, a dull, hopeless pain came into her heart, for she felt that she, the poor gipsy maid, could never hope to share in the sunshine of his love.

She wondered childishly whether she could ever make herself sufficiently like Filina to attract him; and when the pretty actress presently departed to the salon with Wilhelm, she determined to try the experiment.

Finding herself alone in the room, she drew forth one of Filina's gorgeous robes, and arrayed herself in it; and then, sitting before the mirror, she began to enhance her delicate complexion with the various accessories to beauty used by the artful coquette, laughing with delight at her altered appearance.

Suddenly, however, she heard the sound of approaching footsteps, and fearing to be discovered in her borrowed finery, she sprang into an adjoining room, just as the intruder entered the boudoir.

The newcomer was a foppish youth, named Frederick, nephew to Baron Rosenberg, who, wishing to pose as an admirer of the fascinating Filina, had now come to pay his court, expecting to find her alone; but no sooner had he entered the room than he was followed by Wilhelm, who had returned to speak with Mignon, whom he was about to send back to the town at the request of Filina.

Recognising in Frederick a young gallant whom he had seen before in the town with the pretty actress, Wilhelm demanded to be told his business; and Frederick, knowing the handsome student to be his most formidable rival, instantly provoked a quarrel with him, and furiously drew his sword.

Wilhelm, to humour the youth, who was little more than a boy, and whose attempted gallantry amused him, playfully drew his sword also; but at this moment, Mignon rushed from the inner chamber, and flung herself between them.

Quickly seeing that a duel had never been seriously intended—Frederick having already sheathed his sword in evident relief—Mignon, suddenly remembering her borrowed plumes, began to make a shamefaced apology for her folly; but Wilhelm gently took her aside, and told her that they must now part, since he had quite decided to send her back to the town.

Filina, who had followed her admirer into the room, mockingly added that since the gipsy maid had taken a fancy to the dress she had adorned herself with, she might keep it; but Mignon, stung by the laughing scorn of her rival, and rendered desperate by Wilhelm's decision, furiously tore the gauzy robe to ribbons, and rushed away in a tempest of tears and angry feelings.

Wilhelm, astonished at this outburst of jealousy on the part of Mignon—whom until now he had regarded as a child—suddenly felt an awakened interest in her, and began to wonder at the depth of passion she had betrayed; but as the evening fête was now about to commence, he departed to witness the performance.

The play chosen for representation that night was A Midsummer Night's Dream; and Filina, in the character of "Titania," won golden opinions from one and all. In her dainty fairy garments she bewitched the hearts of her audience by her charming acting and fascinating coquetry, and the old castle walls rang with the loud bursts of applause that were constantly accorded to the lovely actress.

Meanwhile poor Mignon, having passionately torn off her borrowed finery, and donned her own old gipsy garments once more, had flown from the castle, and made her way to the bank of a lonely lake in the grounds; and here, overcome by the grief of her hopeless love, and rendered frantic by the bursts of applause in praise of Filina that ever and anon reached her, she was just about to throw herself into the water, when she suddenly heard the sad, yet entrancing sounds of a harp played close at hand.

Turning round, she beheld Lothario the Harper, who had been hovering in the castle grounds all evening; and thus saved from her terrible resolve by his timely appearance, the unhappy girl calmed herself, and poured forth the whole story of her grief into the sympathising ears of the old man.

Leading her gently back to the illuminated grounds, Lothario soothed his companion as best he could, feeling strangely that her sorrows were his own; and when, carried away by her jealous emotions on hearing another loud burst of applause ring out upon the evening air, Mignon uttered a rash wish that the building in which her rival now triumphed might suddenly burst into flames, a curious gleam came into the old harper's wild eyes, and he left her side at once.

In a few minutes he returned, and told her exultingly that, in accordance with her desire, he had set the castle on fire, and that the flames would soon burst forth; but before Mignon could fully grasp the meaning of what her half-witted friend had done to prove his zeal on her behalf, the festive entertainment came to an end, and guests and performers alike came out into the illuminated grounds to refresh themselves in the cool evening air.

The praises of Filina were being sung on every side, and as the triumphant actress came forth on the arm of Wilhelm, she was received with great enthusiasm. Wilhelm soon noticed Mignon standing in the gloom with Lothario, and hurrying forward, he greeted her with tenderness, for, alarmed at her prolonged absence, he had been searching for her. Filina, hating to see the two together, soon joined them, and desired Mignon to return to the theatre and fetch a bouquet she had left upon the stage; and Mignon, her despair brought back by the voice of Wilhelm, hurried into the doomed castle at once, remembering Lothario's words, and hoping to be overcome by the fumes within.

The interior of the castle was already burning fiercely; and as the startled guests suddenly saw flames bursting out from the building they had just left, they rejoiced at their own safety.

But Mignon was within the burning castle; and quickly realising her danger, Wilhelm, with a cry of horror, dashed through the smoking doorway to seek for her. Struggling against the fumes and suffocating heat, he made his way to the theatre, and finding Mignon lying half-dazed upon the already burning stage, he snatched her up in his arms, and, despite her frantic pleading that she might be left to her fate, bore her triumphantly through the blinding smoke into the safety of the grounds beyond.

Here he was quickly joined by Lothario, upon whom he saw that the recent excitement had had the effect of restoring his reason to its normal balance and clearness, for, to his surprise, the old harper presently announced in cool, decided tones his intention of conveying the unconscious girl to the palace of Cipriani in Italy, where he had influence to secure her every attention and care.

Seeing that Lothario was in earnest, and would not be diverted from his purpose, Wilhelm agreed to help the old man in conveying Mignon to Italy; for he now felt drawn to the beautiful young girl more closely than ever, and already his passing fancy for the frivolous coquette, Filina, was dying away.

So with every care and tenderness the old man and his young companion bore the hapless Mignon to Italy; but upon arriving at the palace of Cipriani—a stately building upon the borders of a beautiful lake—the poor girl fell into a fever, brought on by the dangerous excitement and mental suffering she had lately endured.

Wilhelm found to his astonishment that the directions and commands of Lothario were all obeyed by the servants of the palace as though the old harper were their master, but he scarce found time even to wonder at this, for all his thoughts were now centred on the suffering Mignon. In her delirium, the poor girl constantly breathed his name, thus betraying her passionate love for him; and as Wilhelm gazed upon the sweet, pale face of the fair maiden he had rescued, and remembered her wonderful devotion and gratitude to him, an answering passion, deep and tender, gradually awakened within his own breast. So, one day, when at last Mignon had sufficiently recovered to be brought into a large, sunny room overlooking the sparkling lake, the young student told her of his love, and Mignon's faithful heart was filled with joy and sweet content.

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.