Goethe and Schiller: An Historical RomanceMühlbach, L. (Luise)
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Goethe and Schiller: An Historical Romance
Mühlbach, L. (Luise)
Goethe, Johann Wolfgang von, 1749-1832 -- Fiction; Schiller, Friedrich, 1759-1805 -- Fiction
"If it would only do so!" cried Julie, despairingly. "That is exactly
my desire, my object. Oh, my brother, you and all my cruel relatives
deceive yourselves about me; and what you consider the finesse of
coquetry, is only the true and open expression of my feelings! For
three years the king has pursued me with his love, and for three years
I have met his advances with coldness and indifference. In every
manner, by word, look, and gesture, have I given him to understand that
his love was annoying, and his attentions offensive. Oh, that I could
fly from this unendurable, fearful love, to the uttermost ends of the
world! But I cannot go, for I am poor, and have not the means to live
elsewhere, and free myself from the terrible fetters in which you are
all endeavoring to bind me!"
"And besides, my dear sister, acknowledge that your own heart persuades
you to remain. You love the king?"
"No," she cried, passionately, "no, I do not love him, although I must
admit that I have seen no man I liked better. But I do not love him;
my heart beats no quicker when he approaches, my soul does not long
for him when he is at a distance; and at times, when the king is at my
side, a terrible feeling of anxiety creeps over me, and I wish to flee,
and cry out to the whole world--'Rescue me, rescue me from the king!'
No, I do not love the king; and if I meet his advances coldly, it is
not from policy, but because my heart prompts me to do so. Therefore,
renounce all thought of winning me over to your plans. I will not
become the associate of Wilhelmine Enke!"
"And truly you shall not," said her brother, earnestly. "On the
contrary, my beautiful and discreet sister, you shall displace this
unworthy person; you shall become the benefactress of Prussia, and,
through you, virtue and morality shall once more stand in good repute
at the court of our young and amiable king."
The eyes of the beautiful maid of honor sparkled, and a soft color
suffused itself over her cheeks. "If that were possible," she cried, in
joyous tones--"yes, if I could succeed in delivering the king from this
unworthy bondage, if I could make this hateful person harmless, this
indeed were an object for which much could be endured."
"You hate her, then, this Wilhelmine Rietz?"
"And who should not hate her?" asked Julie, passionately. "She is the
disgrace of her sex; she heaps dishonor on the head of our noble and
genial king; she has caused his wife so many tears, and--"
"And you, too, is it not so?" asked her brother, smiling. "My beautiful
Julie, you have betrayed yourself, you are jealous. But one is jealous
only when one loves. Do not longer deny it--you love the king."
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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