I noticed some of the company prepare their mouths and draw themselves
up at the prospect of some agreeable forfeit. "Let us play at
counting," said Charlotte. "Now, pay attention: I shall go round the
circle from right to left; and each person is to count, one after the
other, the number that comes to him, and must count fast; whoever stops
or mistakes is to have a box on the ear, and so on, till we have
counted a thousand." It was delightful to see the fun. She went round
the circle with upraised arm. "One," said the first; "two," the second;
"three," the third; and so, till Charlotte went faster and faster. One
made a mistake, instantly a box on the ear; and amid the laughter that
ensued, came another box; and so on, faster and faster. I myself came
in for two. I fancied they were harder than the rest, and felt quite
delighted. A general laughter and confusion put an end to the game long
before we had counted as far as a thousand. The party broke up into
little separate knots; the storm had ceased, and I followed Charlotte
into the ballroom. On the way she said, "The game banished their fears
of the storm." I could make no reply. "I myself," she continued, "was
as much frightened as any of them; but by affecting courage, to keep up
the spirits of the others, I forgot my apprehensions." We went to the
window. It was still thundering at a distance; a soft rain was pouring
down over the country, and filled the air around us with delicious
odours. Charlotte leaned forward on her arm; her eyes wandered over the
scene; she raised them to the sky, and then turned them upon me: they
were moistened with tears; she placed her hand on mine and said,
"Klopstock!" At once I remembered the magnificent ode which was in her
thoughts; I felt oppressed with the weight of my sensations, and sank
under them. It was more than I could bear. I bent over her hand, kissed
it in a stream of delicious tears, and again looked up to her eyes.
Divine Klopstock! why didst thou not see thy apotheosis in those eyes?
And thy name, so often profaned, would that I never heard it repeated!
June 19.
I no longer remember where I stopped in my narrative; I only know it
was two in the morning when I went to bed; and if you had been with me,
that I might have talked instead of writing to you, I should, in all
probability, have kept you up till daylight.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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