Goethe and Schiller: An Historical RomanceMühlbach, L. (Luise)
General
Goethe and Schiller: An Historical Romance
Mühlbach, L. (Luise)
Goethe, Johann Wolfgang von, 1749-1832 -- Fiction; Schiller, Friedrich, 1759-1805 -- Fiction
Schiller did not reply. His head was thrown back, and he was gazing
up at the heavens; the moon again shone on his countenance, and the
starlight sparkled in the tears that rolled slowly down his cheeks.
"He cannot suffer, he cannot be unhappy!" he repeated in a low voice.
It seemed to him that a transformation was going on within himself,
that he was growing larger and stronger, and that his heart had laid
on a coat of armor. He sprang from the ground, stood proudly erect,
and shook his arms aloft. "Here truly is manly strength, the sinews
are tightly drawn, the muscles are firm; a genius has selected this
breast as its abode, to give it strength to shake off the burden of
sorrow." He felt that his good genius had conducted him to this unhappy
man, that he might be taught that the strong alone can bear pain, and
that the weak must succumb under the rod of affliction. His heart was
filled with pity for the weak brother at his side. "It was God's will
that I should save you from death; in so doing, I however contracted
the obligation to preserve your life. I will meet this obligation. Tell
me, what were your plans before your father's death?"
"I hoped, when I should have finished my course at the university, to
enter some family as teacher, where I could, in time, earn enough to
enable me to go to the Catholic Seminary in Cologne, and maintain me
there, while completing my studies."
"You are a Catholic?"
"My father was from the Rhine, and my mother was of Polish extraction.
Both were Catholics, and it was their fond hope that their son might
some day receive ordination and become a priest of the Catholic Church.
It seems, however, that I have only been ordained to misery, and I
could veil my head and die in shame and remorse!"
"Young man, this is blasphemy, you forfeit God's grace when you speak
in this manner. He sent me here to save you, and with his aid I will
not leave my task uncompleted. How much will enable you to prepare
yourself for your future career?"
"The sum that I require is so great that I scarcely dare mention it."
"Would one hundred dollars be sufficient?"
"That is far more than I need, more than I ever possessed!" cried
Theophilus, almost terrified.
"If I should promise to give you this amount--to give it to you here,
at this same place, and at this hour, in a week from to-day, would
you swear to wait patiently and hopefully until then, and to make no
further wicked attempt on your life?"
"I would swear to do so," replied Theophilus, in a trembling and
tearful voice.
"By the memory of your father and mother?"
"By the memory of my father and mother!"
"Well, then, my brother, with God's help I will bring you the money in
a week from to-day. I would say to-morrow, if I had the money; but I am
poor, like you, my brother. No, this is hardly true. I am rich, for I
have friends, and these friends will furnish the money you require, if
I entreat them to do so."
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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