on her knee, and wept, and kissed her on her mouth, and tore
open her dress, and kissed her on the spot where she had learned to
reach the heart. I implored her, with tears of anguish, to have mercy
upon me; and fell again on her neck, and kissed her cold and
trembling hands. Her lips were convulsed; and she was quite cold,
stiff, and deadly pale. Speaking with difficulty, she said slowly,
Bettine, do not break my heart.' I wanted to recover myself, and not
give her pain. But as, amidst my smiles and tears and sobs, she grew
more anxious, and laid herself on the sofa, I jestingly tried to make
her believe I had taken all as a joke.

"A few days after, she showed me a dagger with a silver hilt, which
she had bought at the mart. She was delighted with the beauty and
sharpness of the steel. I took the blade, and pressed on her with it,
exclaiming, Rather than suffer thee to kill thyself, I myself will do
it.' She retreated in alarm, and I flung the dagger away. I took her
by the hand, and led her to the garden, into the vine-bower, and
said, Thou mayest depend on me: there is no hour when, if thou wert
to utter a wish, I would hesitate for a moment. Come to my window at
midnight and whistle, and I will, without preparation, go round the
world with thee. What right hast thou to cast me off? How canst thou
betray such devotion? Promise me now.' She hung her head and was
pale. 'Guenderode,' said I, if thou art in earnest, give me a sign.
She nodded.

"Two months passed away, when I again came to Frankfort. I ran to the
chapter-house of the canonesses, opened the gate, and lo! there she
stood, and looked coldly at me. 'Guenderode,' I cried, may I come in?'
She was silent, and turned away. 'Guenderode, say but one word, and my
heart beats against thine.' 'No,' she said, 'come no nearer, turn
back, we must separate.' 'What does this mean?' I asked. 'Thus much,
that we have been deceived, and do not belong to one another.' Ah! I
turned away. First despair; first cruel blow, so dreadful to a young
heart! I, who knew nothing but entire abandonment to my love, must be
thus rejected."

A short period elapsed, when news was brought to Bettine that a young
and beautiful lady, who was seen walking a long time at evening
beside the Rhine, had been found the next morning, on the bank, among
the willows. She had filled her handkerchief with stones, and tied it
about her neck, probably intending to sink in the river; but, as she
stabbed