the sorrows of young werther-第11节

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measurable　waters；　there　to　quaff　the　pleasures　of　life　from　the　foaming　goblet　of　the　Infinite；　and　to　partake；　if　but　for　a　moment　even；　with　the　confined　powers　of　my　soul；　the　beatitude　of　that　Creator　who　accomplishes　all　things　in　himself；　and　through　himself！

My　dear　friend；　the　bare　recollection　of　those　hours　still　consoles　me。　　Even　this　effort　to　recall　those　ineffable　sensations；　and　give　them　utterance；　exalts　my　soul　above　itself；　and　makes　me　doubly　feel　the　intensity　of　my　present　anguish。

It　is　as　if　a　curtain　had　been　drawn　from　before　my　eyes；　and；　instead　of　prospects　of　eternal　life；　the　abyss　of　an　ever　open　grave　yawned　before　me。　　Can　we　say　of　anything　that　it　exists　when　all　passes　away；　when　time；　with　the　speed　of　a　storm；　carries　all　things　onward；　　and　our　transitory　existence；　hurried　along　by　the　torrent；　is　either　swallowed　up　by　the　waves　or　dashed　against　the　rocks？　　There　is　not　a　moment　but　preys　upon　you；　　and　upon　all　around　you；　not　a　moment　in　which　you　do　not　yourself　become　a　destroyer。　　The　most　innocent　walk　deprives　of　life　thousands　of　poor　insects：　one　step　destroys　the　fabric　of　the　industrious　ant；　and　converts　a　little　world　into　chaos。　　No：　it　is　not　the　great　and　rare　calamities　of　the　world；　the　floods　which　sweep　away　whole　villages；　the　earthquakes　which　swallow　up　our　towns；　that　affect　me。　　My　heart　is　wasted　by　the　thought　of　that　destructive　power　which　lies　concealed　in　every　part　of　universal　nature。　　Nature　has　formed　nothing　that　does　not　consume　itself；　and　every　object　near　it：　so　that；　surrounded　by　earth　and　air；　and　all　the　active　powers；　I　wander　on　my　way　with　aching　heart；　and　the　universe　is　to　me　a　fearful　monster；　for　ever　devouring　its　own　offspring。　　　　AUGUST　21。

In　vain　do　I　stretch　out　my　arms　toward　her　when　I　awaken　in　the　morning　from　my　weary　slumbers。　　In　vain　do　I　seek　for　her　at　night　in　my　bed；　when　some　innocent　dream　has　happily　deceived　me；　and　placed　her　near　me　in　the　fields；　when　I　have　seized　her　hand　and　covered　it　with　countless　kisses。　　And　when　I　feel　for　her　in　the　half　confusion　of　sleep；　with　the　happy　sense　that　she　is　near；　tears　flow　from　my　oppressed　heart；　and；　bereft　of　all　comfort；　I　weep　over　my　future　woes。

AUGUST　22。

What　a　misfortune；　Wilhelm！　　My　active　spirits　have　degenerated　into　contented　indolence。　　I　cannot　be　idle；　and　yet　I　am　unable　to　set　to　work。　　I　cannot　think：　I　have　no　longer　any　feeling　for　the　beauties　of　nature；　and　books　are　distasteful　to　me。　　Once　we　give　ourselves　up；　we　are　totally　lost。　　Many　a　time　and　oft　I　wish　I　were　a　common　labourer；　that；　awakening　in　the　morning；　I　might　have　but　one　prospect；　one　pursuit；　one　hope；　for　the　day　which　has　dawned。　　I　often　envy　Albert　when　I　see　him　buried　in　a　heap　of　papers　and　parchments；　and　I　fancy　I　should　be　happy　were　I　in　his　place。　　Often　impressed　with　this　feeling　I　have　been　on　the　point　of　writing　to　you　and　to　the　minister；　for　the　appointment　at　the　embassy；　which　you　think　I　might　obtain。　　I　believe　I　might　procure　it。　　The　minister　has　long　shown　a　regard　for　me；　and　has　frequently　urged　me　to　seek　employment。　　It　is　the　business　of　an　hour　only。　　Now　and　then　the　fable　of　the　horse　recurs　to　me。　　　Weary　of　liberty；　he　suffered　himself　to　be　saddled　and　bridled；　and　was　ridden　to　death　for　his　pains。　　I　know　not　what　to　determine　upon。　　For　is　not　this　anxiety　for　change　the　consequence　of　that　restless　spirit　which　would　pursue　me　equally　in　every　situation　of　life？

AUGUST　28。

If　my　ills　would　admit　of　any　cure；　they　would　certainly　be　cured　here。　　This　is　my　birthday；　and　early　in　the　morning　I　received　a　packet　from　Albert。　　Upon　opening　it；　I　found　one　of　the　pink　ribbons　which　Charlotte　wore　in　her　dress　the　first　time　I　saw　her；　and　which　I　had　several　times　asked　her　to　give　me。　　With　it　were　two　volumes　in　duodecimo　of　Wetstein's　〃Homer；〃　a　book　I　had　often　wished　for；　to　save　me　the　inconvenience　of　carrying　the　large　Ernestine　edition　with　me　upon　my　walks。　　You　see　how　they　anticipate　my　wishes；　how　well　they　understand　all　those　little　attentions　of　friendship；　so　superior　to　the　costly　presents　of　the　great；　which　are　humiliating。　　I　kissed　the　ribbon　a　thousand　times；　and　in　every　breath　inhaled　the　remembrance　of　those　happy　and　irrevocable　days　which　filled　me　with　the　keenest　joy。　　Such；　Wilhelm；　is　our　fate。　　I　do　not　murmur　at　it：　the　flowers　of　life　are　but　visionary。　　　How　many　pass　away；　and　leave　no　trace　behind　　how　few　yield　any　fruit　　and　the　fruit　itself；　how　rarely　does　it　ripen！　And　yet　there　are　flowers　enough！　and　is　it　not　strange；　my　friend；　that　we　should　suffer　the　little　that　does　really　ripen；　to　rot；　decay；　and　perish　unenjoyed？　　Farewell！　　This　is　a　glorious　summer。　　I　often　climb　into　the　trees　in　Charlotte's　orchard；　and　shake　down　the　pears　that　hang　on　the　highest　branches。　　She　stands　below；　and　catches　them　as　they　fall。

AUGUST　3O。

Unhappy　being　that　I　am！　　Why　do　I　thus　deceive　myself？　　What　is　to　come　of　all　this　wild；　aimless；　endless　passion？　　I　cannot　pray　except　to　her。　　My　imagination　sees　nothing　but　her：　all　surrounding　objects　are　of　no　account；　except　as　they　relate　to　her。　　In　this　dreamy　state　I　enjoy　many　happy　hours；　till　at　length　I　feel　compelled　to　tear　myself　away　from　her。　　Ah；　Wilhelm；　to　what　does　not　my　heart　often　compel　me！　　When　I　have　spent　several　hours　in　her　company；　till　I　feel　completely　absorbed　by　her　figure；　her　grace；　the　divine　expression　of　her　thoughts；　my　mind　becomes　gradually　excited　to　the　highest　excess；　my　sight　grows　dim；　my　hearing　confused；　my　breathing　oppressed　as　if　by　the　hand　of　a　murderer；　and　my　beating　heart　seeks　to　obtain　relief　for　my　aching　senses。　　I　am　sometimes　unconscious　whether　I　really　exist。　　If　in　such　moments　I　find　no　sympathy；　and　Charlotte　does　not　allow　me　to　enjoy　the　melancholy　consolation　of　bathing　her　hand　with　my　tears；　I　feel　compelled　to　tear　myself　from　her；　when　I　either　wander　through　the　country；　climb　some　precipitous　cliff；　or　force　a　path　through　the　trackless　thicket；　where　I　am　lacerated　and　torn　by　thorns　and　briers；　and　thence　I　find　relief。　　Sometimes　I　lie　stretched　on　the　ground；　overcome　with　fatigue　and　dying　with　thirst；　sometimes；　late　in　the　night；　when　the　moon　shines　above　me；　I　recline　against　an　aged　tree　in　some　sequestered　forest；　to　rest　my　weary　limbs；　when；　exhausted　and　worn；　I　sleep　till　break　of　day。　　O　Wilhelm！　the　hermit's　cell；　his　sackcloth；　and　girdle　of　thorns　would　be　luxury　and　indulgence　compared　with　what　I　suffer。　Adieu！　　I　see　no　end　to　this　wretchedness　except　the　grave。

SEPTEMBER　3。

I　must　away。　　Thank　you；　Wilhelm；　for　determining　my　wavering　purpose。　　For　a　whole　fortnight　I　have　thought　of　leaving　her。　　I　must　away。　　She　has　returned　to　town；　and　is　at　the　house　of　a　friend。　　And　then；　Albert　　yes；　I　must　go。

SEPTEMBER　1O。

Oh；　what　a　night；　Wilhelm！　　I　can　henceforth　bear　anything。　　I　shall　never　see　her　again。　　Oh；　why　cannot　I　fall　on　your　neck；　and；　with　floods　of　tears　and　raptures；　give　utterance　to　all　the　passions　which　distract　my　heart！　　Here　I　sit　gasping　for　breath；　and　struggling　to　compose　myself。　　I　wait　for　day；　and　at　sunrise　the　horses　are　to　be　at　the　door。

And　she　is　sleeping　calmly；　little　suspecting　that　she　has　seen　me　for　the　last　time。　　I　am　free。　　I　have　had　the　courage；　in　an　interview　of　two　hours'　duration；　not　to　betray　my　intention。　　And　O　Wilhelm；　what　a　conversation　it　was！

Albert　had　promised　to　come　to　Charlotte　in　the　garden　immediately　after　supper。　　I　was　upon　the　terrace　under　the　tall　chestnut　trees；　and　watched　the　setting　sun。　　I　saw　him　sink　for　the　last　time　beneath　this　delightful　valley　and　silent　stream。　　I　had　often　visited　the　same　spot　with　Charlotte；　and　witnessed　that　glorious　sight；　and　now　　I　was　walking　up　and　down　the　very　avenue　which　was　so　dear　to　me。　　A　secret　sympathy　had　frequently　drawn　me　thither　before　I　knew　Charlotte；　and　we　were　delighted　when；　in　our　early　acquaintance；　we　discovered　that　we　each　loved　the　same　spot；　which　is　indeed　as　romantic　as　any　that　ever　captivated　the　fancy　of　an　artist。

》From　beneath　the　chestnut　trees；　there　is　an　extensive　view。　　But　I　remember　that　I　have　mentioned　all　this　in　a　former　letter；　and　have　described　the　tall　mass　of　beech　trees　at　the　end；　and　how　the　avenue　grows　darker　and　darker　as　it　winds　its　way　among　them；　till　it　ends　in　a　gloomy　recess；　which　has　all　the　charm　of　a　mysterious　solitude。　　I　still　remember　the　strange　feeling　of　melancholy　which　came　over　me　the　first　time　I　entered　that　dark　retreat；　at　bright　midday。　　I　felt　some　secret　foreboding　that　it　would；　one　day；　be　to　me　the　scene　of　some　happiness　or　misery。

I　had　spent　half　an　hour　struggling　between　the　contending　thoughts　of　going　and　returning；　when　I　heard　them　coming　up　the　terrace。　I　ran　to　meet　them。　　I　trembled　as　I　took　her　hand；　and　kissed　it。　As　we　reached　the　top　of　the　terrace；　the　moon　rose　from　behind　the　wooded　hill。　　We　conversed　on　many　subjects；　and；　without　perceiving　it；　approached　the　gloomy　recess。　　Charlotte　entered；　and　sat　down。　　Albert　seated　himself　beside　her。　　I　did　the　same；　but　my　agitation　did　not　suffer　me　to　remain