uncle speedily arrived at the house. The body of Wieland was removed
from my presence, and they supposed that I would follow it; but no, my
home is ascertained; here I have taken up my rest, and never will I go
hence, till, like Wieland, I am borne to my grave.

Importunity was tried in vain: they threatened to remove me by
violence--nay, violence was used; but my soul prizes too dearly this
little roof to endure to be bereaved of it. Force should not
prevail when the hoary locks and supplicating tears of my uncle were
ineffectual. My repugnance to move gave birth to ferociousness and
phrenzy when force was employed, and they were obliged to consent to my
return.

They besought me--they remonstrated--they appealed to every duty that
connected me with him that made me, and with my fellow-men--in vain.
While I live I will not go hence. Have I not fulfilled my destiny?

Why will ye torment me with your reasonings and reproofs? Can ye restore
to me the hope of my better days? Can ye give me back Catharine and her
babes? Can ye recall to life him who died at my feet?

I will eat--I will drink--I will lie down and rise up at your
bidding--all I ask is the choice of my abode. What is there unreasonable
in this demand? Shortly will I be at peace. This is the spot which I
have chosen in which to breathe my last sigh. Deny me not, I beseech
you, so slight a boon.

Talk not to me, O my revered friend! of Carwin. He has told thee his
tale, and thou exculpatest him from all direct concern in the fate of
Wieland. This scene of havock was produced by an illusion of the senses.
Be it so: I care not from what source these disasters have flowed; it
suffices that they have swallowed up our hopes and our existence.

What his agency began, his agency conducted to a close. He intended, by
the final effort of his power, to rescue me and to banish his illusions
from my brother. Such is his tale, concerning the truth of which I care
not. Henceforth I foster but one wish--I ask only quick deliverance from
life and all the ills that attend it.--

Go wretch! torment me not with thy presence and thy prayers.--Forgive
thee? Will that avail thee when thy fateful hour shall arrive? Be thou
acquitted at thy own tribunal, and thou needest not fear the verdict
of others. If thy guilt be capable of blacker hues, if hitherto thy
conscience be without stain, thy crime will be made more flagrant by
thus violating my retreat. Take thyself away from my