What is the matter with me, dear Wilhelm? I am afraid of myself!
Is not my love for her of the purest, most holy, and most brotherly
nature? Has my soul ever been sullied by a single sensual desire?
But I will make no protestations. And now, ye nightly visions, how
truly have those mortals understood you, who ascribe your various
contradictory effects to some invincible power! This night--I tremble
at the avowal--I held her in my arms, locked in a close embrace: I
pressed her to my bosom, and covered with countless kisses those dear
lips which murmured in reply soft protestations of love. My sight
became confused by the delicious intoxication of her eyes. Heavens! is
it sinful to revel again in such happiness, to recall once more those
rapturous moments with intense delight? Charlotte! Charlotte! I am
lost! My senses are bewildered, my recollection is confused, mine
eyes are bathed in tears--I am ill; and yet I am well--I wish for
nothing--I have no desires--it were better I were gone.
Under the circumstances narrated above, a determination to quit this
world had now taken fixed possession of Werther's soul. Since
Charlotte's return, this thought had been the final object of all his
hopes and wishes; but he had resolved that such a step should not be
taken with precipitation, but with calmness and tranquillity, and with
the most perfect deliberation.
His troubles and internal struggles may be understood from the
following fragment, which was found, without any date, amongst his
papers, and appears to have formed the beginning of a letter to
Wilhelm:
"Her presence, her fate, her sympathy for me, have power still to
extract tears from my withered brain.
"One lifts up the curtain, and passes to the other side,--that is all!
And why all these doubts and delays? Because we know not what is
behind,--because there is no returning,--and because our mind infers
that all is darkness and confusion, where we have nothing but
uncertainty."
His appearance at length became quite altered by the effect of his
melancholy thoughts; and his resolution was now finally and irrevocably
taken, of which the following ambiguous letter which he addressed to
his friend, may appear to afford some proof:--
Dec. 20.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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