少年维特之烦恼(英文版)-第13章

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heart　；　and，　bereft　of　all　fort，　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　mon　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　e　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　pelled　to　tear
myself　away　from　her。　Ah，　Wilhelm，　to　what　does　not　my　heart　often　pel
me！　When　I　have　spent　several　hours　in　her　pany　，　till　I　feel　pletely
absorbed　by　her　figure，　her　grace，　the　divine　expression　of　her　thoughts，
my　mind　bees　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
pelled　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，
overe　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　pared
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　pose　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　e　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　ing　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
long　seated。　I　got　up　，　and　stood　before　her　，　then　walked　backward
and　forward　，　and　sat　down　again。　I　was　restless　and　miserable。　Charlotte
drew　our　attention　to　the　beautiful　effect　of　the　moonlight　，　which　threw
a　silver　hue　over　the　terrace　in　front　of　us，　beyond　the　beech　trees。
It　was　a　glorious　sight　，　and　was　rendered　more　striking　by　the　darkness
which　surrounded　the　spot　where　we　were。　We　remained　for　some　time　silent，
when　Charlotte　observed　，　〃Whenever　I　walk　by　moonlight，　it　brings　to
my　remembrance　all　my　beloved　and　departed　friends，　and　I　am　filled　with
thoughts　of　death　and　futurity。　We　shall　live　again　，　Werther！〃　she
continued　，　with　a　firm　but　feeling　voice；　〃but　shall　we　know　one　another
again　what　do　you　think　？　what　do　you　say？〃

　　〃Charlotte，〃　I　said，　as　I　took　her　hand　in　mine　，　and　my　eyes　filled
with　tears，　〃we　shall　see　each　other　again　——　here　and　hereafter　we
shall　meet　again。〃　I　could　say　no