The Sorrows of Young Werther | Page 7

own heart, as though enkindled by the flame, glows and burns within me.
I mean now to try and see her as soon as I can: or perhaps, on second thoughts, I had
better not; it is better I should behold her through the eyes of her lover. To my sight,
perhaps, she would not appear as she now stands before me; and why should I destroy so
sweet a picture?
JUNE 16.
"Why do I not write to you?" You lay claim to learning, and ask such a question. You
should have guessed that I am well -- that is to say -- in a word, I have made an
acquaintance who has won my heart: I have -- I know not.
To give you a regular account of the manner in which I have become acquainted with the
most amiable of women would be a difficult task. I am a happy and contented mortal, but
a poor historian.

An angel! Nonsense! Everybody so describes his mistress; and yet I find it impossible to
tell you how perfect she is, or why she is so perfect: suffice it to say she has captivated all
my senses.
So much simplicity with so much understanding -- so mild, and yet so resolute -- a mind
so placid, and a life so active.
But all this is ugly balderdash, which expresses not a single character nor feature. Some
other time -- but no, not some other time, now, this very instant, will I tell you all about it.
Now or never. Well, between ourselves, since I commenced my letter, I have been three
times on the point of throwing down my pen, of ordering my horse, and riding out. And
yet I vowed this morning that I would not ride to-day, and yet every moment I am rushing
to the window to see how high the sun is.
I could not restrain myself -- go to her I must. I have just returned, Wilhelm; and whilst I
am taking supper I will write to you. What a delight it was for my soul to see her in the
midst of her dear, beautiful children, -- eight brothers and sisters!
But, if I proceed thus, you will be no wiser at the end of my letter than you were at the
beginning. Attend, then, and I will compel myself to give you the details.
I mentioned to you the other day that I had become acquainted with S--, the district judge,
and that he had invited me to go and visit him in his retirement, or rather in his little
kingdom. But I neglected going, and perhaps should never have gone, if chance had not
discovered to me the treasure which lay concealed in that retired spot. Some of our young
people had proposed giving a ball in the country, at which I consented to be present. I
offered my hand for the evening to a pretty and agreeable, but rather commonplace, sort
of girl from the immediate neighbourhood; and it was agreed that I should engage a
carriage, and call upon Charlotte, with my partner and her aunt, to convey them to the
ball. My companion informed me, as we drove along through the park to the
hunting-lodge, that I should make the acquaintance of a very charming young lady. "Take
care," added the aunt, "that you do not lose your heart." "Why?" said I. "Because she is
already engaged to a very worthy man," she replied, "who is gone to settle his affairs
upon the death of his father, and will succeed to a very considerable inheritance." This
information possessed no interest for me. When we arrived at the gate, the sun was
setting behind the tops of the mountains. The atmosphere was heavy; and the ladies
expressed their fears of an approaching storm, as masses of low black clouds were
gathering in the horizon. I relieved their anxieties by pretending to be weather-wise,
although I myself had some apprehensions lest our pleasure should be interrupted.
I alighted; and a maid came to the door, and requested us to wait a moment for her
mistress. I walked across the court to a well-built house, and, ascending the flight of steps
in front, opened the door, and saw before me the most charming spectacle I had ever
witnessed. Six children, from eleven to two years old, were running about the hall, and
surrounding a lady of middle height, with a lovely figure, dressed in a robe of simple
white, trimmed with pink ribbons. She was holding a rye loaf in her hand, and was
cutting slices for the little ones all around, in proportion to their age and appetite. She

performed her task in a graceful and affectionate manner; each claimant awaiting his turn