icine
_con amore_; could I not do it now with still greater keenness?

'This, my best friend, might of itself convince you of the truth and
firmness of my purpose; but what should offer you the most complete
security on that point, what must banish all your doubts about my
steadfastness, I have yet kept secret. _Now or never_ I must speak it
out. Distance alone gives me courage to express the wish of my heart.
Frequently enough, when I used to have the happiness of being near
you, has this confession hovered on my tongue; but my confidence
always forsook me, when I tried to utter it. My best friend! Your
goodness, your affection, your generosity of heart, have encouraged me
in a hope which I can justify by nothing but the friendship and
respect you have always shown me. My free, unconstrained access to
your house afforded me the opportunity of intimate acquaintance with
your amiable daughter; and the frank, kind treatment with which both
you and she honoured me, tempted my heart to entertain the bold wish
of becoming your son. My prospects have hitherto been dim and vague;
they now begin to alter in my favour. I will strive with more
continuous vigour when the goal is clear; do you decide whether I can
reach it, when the dearest wish of my heart supports my zeal.

'Yet two short years and my whole fortune will be determined. I feel
how _much_ I ask, how boldly, and with how little right I ask it. A
year is past since this thought took possession of my soul; but my
esteem for you and your excellent daughter was too high to allow room
for a wish, which at that time I could found on no solid basis. I made
it a duty with myself to visit your house less frequently, and to
dissipate such feelings by absence; but this poor artifice did not
avail me.

'The Duke of Weimar was the first person to whom I disclosed myself.
His anticipating goodness, and the declaration that he took an
interest in my happiness, induced me to confess that this happiness
depended on a union with your noble daughter; and he expressed his
satisfaction at my choice. I have reason to hope that he will do more,
should it come to the point of completing my happiness by this union.

'I shall add nothing farther: I know well that hundreds of others
might afford your daughter a more splendid fate than I at this moment
can promise her; but that any other _heart_ can be more worthy of her,
I venture to deny. Your decision, which I look for with impatience an