the sorrows of young werther(少年维特的烦恼)-第18节

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infirm。　　There　I　see　them　struggling　against　death；　with　all　the
agonies　of　pain　and　horror；　and　these　women；　Wilhelm；　talk　of　all
this　with　as　much　indifference　as　one　would　mention　the　death　of
a　stranger。　　And　when　I　look　around　the　apartment　where　I　now　am
　when　I　see　Charlotte's　apparel　lying　before　me；　and　Albert's
writings；　and　all　those　articles　of　furniture　which　are　so　familiar
to　me；　even　to　the　very　inkstand　which　I　am　using；　　when　I　think
what　I　am　to　this　family　　everything。　　My　friends　esteem　me；　I　often
contribute　to　their　happiness；　and　my　heart　seems　as　if　it　could
not　beat　without　them；　and　yet　…　if　I　were　to　die；　if　I　were
to　be　summoned　from　the　midst　of　this　circle；　would　they　feel　
or　how　long　would　they　feel　the　void　which　my　loss　would　make　in
their　existence？　　How　long！　　Yes；　such　is　the　frailty　of　man；　that
even　there；　where　he　has　the　greatest　consciousness　of　his　own
being；　where　he　makes　the　strongest　and　most　forcible　impression；
even　in　the　memory；　in　the　heart；　of　his　beloved；　there　also　he
must　perish；　　vanish；　　and　that　quickly。

OCTOBER　27。

I　could　tear　open　my　bosom　with　vexation　to　think　how　little　we
are　capable　of　influencing　the　feelings　of　each　other。　　No　one
can　communicate　to　me　those　sensations　of　love；　joy；　rapture；　and
delight　which　I　do　not　naturally　possess；　and；　though　my　heart　may
glow　with　the　most　lively　affection；　I　cannot　make　the　happiness
of　one　in　whom　the　same　warmth　is　not　inherent。

OCTOBER　27：　Evening。

I　possess　so　much；　but　my　love　for　her　absorbs　it　all。　　I　possess
so　much；　but　without　her　I　have　nothing。

OCTOBER　30。

One　hundred　times　have　I　been　on　the　point　of　embracing　her。
Heavens！　what　a　torment　it　is　to　see　so　much　loveliness　passing
and　repassing　before　us；　and　yet　not　dare　to　lay　hold　of　it！
And　laying　hold　is　the　most　natural　of　human　instincts。　　Do　not
children　touch　everything　they　see？　　And　I！

NOVEMBER　3。　

Witness；　Heaven；　how　often　I　lie　down　in　my　bed　with　a　wish；　and
even　a　hope；　that　I　may　never　awaken　again。　　And　in　the　morning；
when　I　open　my　eyes；　I　behold　the　sun　once　more；　and　am　wretched。
If　I　were　whimsical；　I　might　blame　the　weather；　or　an　acquaintance；
or　some　personal　disappointment；　for　my　discontented　mind；　and　then
this　insupportable　load　of　trouble　would　not　rest　entirely　upon
myself。　　But；　alas！　　I　feel　it　too　sadly。　　I　am　alone　the　cause
of　my　own　woe；　am　I　not？　　Truly；　my　own　bosom　contains　the　source
of　all　my　sorrow；　as　it　previously　contained　the　source　of　all　my
pleasure。　　Am　I　not　the　same　being　who　once　enjoyed　an　excess　of
happiness；　who；　at　every　step；　saw　paradise　open　before　him；　and
whose　heart　was　ever　expanded　toward　the　whole　world？　　And　this
heart　is　now　dead；　no　sentiment　can　revive　it；　my　eyes　are　dry；
and　my　senses；　no　more　refreshed　by　the　influence　of　soft　tears；
wither　and　consume　my　brain。　　I　suffer　much；　for　I　have　lost　the
only　charm　of　life：　that　active；　sacred　power　which　created　worlds
around　me；　　it　is　no　more。　　When　I　look　from　my　window　at　the
distant　hills；　and　behold　the　morning　sun　breaking　through　the
mists；　and　illuminating　the　country　around；　which　is　still　wrapped
in　silence；　whilst　the　soft　stream　winds　gently　through　the　willows；
which　have　shed　their　leaves；　when　glorious　nature　displays　all
her　beauties　before　me；　and　her　wondrous　prospects　are　ineffectual
to　extract　one　tear　of　joy　from　my　withered　heart；　I　feel　that　in
such　a　moment　I　stand　like　a　reprobate　before　heaven；　hardened；
insensible；　and　unmoved。　　Oftentimes　do　I　then　bend　my　knee　to　the
earth；　and　implore　God　for　the　blessing　of　tears；　as　the　desponding
labourer　in　some　scorching　climate　prays　for　the　dews　of　heaven
to　moisten　his　parched　corn。
　　
But　I　feel　that　God　does　not　grant　sunshine　or　rain　to　our
importunate　entreaties。　　And　oh；　those　bygone　days；　whose　memory
now　torments　me！　why　were　they　so　fortunate？　　Because　I　then
waited　with　patience　for　the　blessings　of　the　Eternal；　and　received
his　gifts　with　the　grateful　feelings　of　a　thankful　heart。

NOVEMBER　8。

Charlotte　has　reproved　me　for　my　excesses；　with　so　much　tenderness
and　goodness！　　I　have　lately　been　in　the　habit　of　drinking　more
wine　than　heretofore。　　〃Don't　do　it；〃　she　said。　　〃Think　of　Charlotte！〃
〃Think　of　you！〃　I　answered；　〃need　you　bid　me　do　so？　　Think　of　you
　I　do　not　think　of　you：　you　are　ever　before　my　soul！　　This　very
morning　I　sat　on　the　spot　where；　a　few　days　ago；　you　descended
from　the　carriage；　and〃　　She　immediately　changed　the　subject　to
prevent　me　from　pursuing　it　farther。　　My　dear　friend；　my　energies
are　all　prostrated：　she　can　do　with　me　what　she　pleases。

NOVEMBER　15。

I　thank　you；　Wilhelm；　for　your　cordial　sympathy；　for　your　excellent
advice；　and　I　implore　you　to　be　quiet。　　Leave　me　to　my　sufferings。
In　spite　of　my　wretchedness；　I　have　still　strength　enough　for
endurance。　　I　revere　religion　　you　know　I　do。　　I　feel　that　it
can　impart　strength　to　the　feeble　and　comfort　to　the　afflicted；
but　does　it　affect　all　men　equally？　　Consider　this　vast　universe：
you　will　see　thousands　for　whom　it　has　never　existed；　thousands
for　whom　it　will　never　exist；　whether　it　be　preached　to　them；　or
not；　and　must　it；　then；　necessarily　exist　for　me？　　Does　not　the
Son　of　God　himself　say　that　they　are　his　whom　the　Father　has　given
to　him？　　Have　I　been　given　to　him？　　What　if　the　Father　will　retain
me　for　himself；　as　my　heart　sometimes　suggests？　　I　pray　you；　do
not　misinterpret　this。　　Do　not　extract　derision　from　my　harmless
words。　　I　pour　out　my　whole　soul　before　you。　　Silence　were　otherwise
preferable　to　me；　but　I　need　not　shrink　from　a　subject　of　which
few　know　more　than　I　do　myself。　　What　is　the　destiny　of　man；　but
to　fill　up　the　measure　of　his　sufferings；　and　to　drink　his　allotted
cup　of　bitterness？　　And　if　that　same　cup　proved　bitter　to　the　God
of　heaven；　under　a　human　form；　why　should　I　affect　a　foolish　pride；
and　call　it　sweet？　　Why　should　I　be　ashamed　of　shrinking　at　that
fearful　moment；　when　my　whole　being　will　tremble　between　existence
and　annihilation；　when　a　remembrance　of　the　past；　like　a　flash　of
lightning；　will　illuminate　the　dark　gulf　of　futurity；　when　everything
shall　dissolve　around　me；　and　the　whole　world　vanish　away？　　Is　not
this　the　voice　of　a　creature　oppressed　beyond　all　resource；
self…deficient；　about　to　plunge　into　inevitable　destruction；　and
groaning　deeply　at　its　inadequate　strength；　〃My　God！　my　God！　why
hast　thou　forsaken　me？〃　　And　should　I　feel　ashamed　to　utter　the
same　expression？　　Should　I　not　shudder　at　a　prospect　which　had　its
fears；　even　for　him　who　folds　up　the　heavens　like　a　garment？

NOVEMBER　21。

She　does　not　feel；　she　does　not　know；　that　she　is　preparing　a　poison
which　will　destroy　us　both；　and　I　drink　deeply　of　the　draught　which
is　to　prove　my　destruction。　　What　mean　those　looks　of　kindness　with
which　she　often　　often？　no；　not　often；　but　sometimes；　regards　me；
that　complacency　with　which　she　hears　the　involuntary　sentiments
which　frequently　escape　me；　and　the　tender　pity　for　my　sufferings
which　appears　in　her　countenance？

Yesterday；　when　I　took　leave　she　seized　me　by　the　hand；　and　said；
〃Adieu；　dear　Werther。〃　　Dear　Werther！　　It　was　the　first　time　she
ever　called　me　dear：　the　sound　sunk　deep　into　my　heart。　　I　have
repeated　it　a　hundred　times；　and　last　night；　on　going　to　bed；　and
talking　to　myself　of　various　things；　I　suddenly　said；　〃Good　night；
dear　Werther！〃　and　then　could　not　but　laugh　at　myself。

NOVEMBER　22

I　cannot　pray；　〃Leave　her　to　me　！〃　and　yet　she　often　seems　to
belong　to　me。　　I　cannot　pray；　〃Give　her　to　me！〃　for　she　is
another's。　　In　this　way　I　affect　mirth　over　my　troubles；　and；
if　I　had　time；　I　could　compose　a　whole　litany　of　antitheses。

NOVEMBER　24。

She　is　sensible　of　my　sufferings。　　This　morning　her　look　pierced
my　very　soul。　　I　found　her　alone；　and　she　was　silent：　she　steadfastly
surveyed　me。　　I　no　longer　saw　in　her　face　the　charms　of　beauty　or
the　fire　of　genius：　these　had　disappeared。　　But　I　was　affected　by
an　expression　much　more　touching；　a　look　of　the　deepest　sympathy
and　of　the　softest　pity。　　Why　was　I　afraid　to　throw　myself　at　her
feet？　　Why　did　I　not　dare　to　take　her　in　my　arms；　and　answer　her
by　a　thousand　kisses？　　She　had　recourse　to　her　piano　for　relief；
and　in　a　low　and　sweet　voice　accompanied　the　music　with　delicious
sounds。　　Her　lips　never　appeared　so　lovely：　they　seemed　but　just
to　open；　that　they　might　imbibe　the　sweet　tones　which　issued　from
the　instrument；　and　return　the　heavenly　vibration　from　her　lovely
mouth。　　Oh！　who　can　express　my　sensations？　　I　was　quite　overcome；
and；　bending　down；　pronounced　this　vow：　〃Beautiful　lips；　which　the
angels　guard；　never　will　I　seek　to　profane　your　purity　with　a　kiss。〃
And　yet；　my　friend；　oh；　I　wish　　but　my　heart　is　darkened　by　doubt
and　indecision　　could　I　but　taste　felicity；　and　then　die　to　expiate
the　sin！　　What　sin？

NOVEMBER　26。

Oftentimes　I　say　to　myself；　〃Thou　alone　art　wretched：　all　other
mortals　are　happy；　none　are　distressed　like　thee！〃　　Then　I　read
a　passage　in　an　ancient　poet；　and　I　seem　to　understand　my　own
heart。　　I　have　so　much　to　endure！　　Have　men　before　me　ever　been
so　wretched？