r that which could refresh a poet's heart or
quicken his soul. No, in me burns the fire which Prometheus stole from
the gods, originating in heaven and glowing upon earth. This heavenly
and earthly love unites in one flame. Again, I say, Charlotte, banish
this hypocritical word 'friendship!' It is only love which I feel for
you, let this sentiment enter at every avenue of your heart, and do not
feign ignorance of it, sweet hypocrite. Surprise has torn away the mask!
The passionate kiss, which still burns upon my lips, was not given by a
friend or sister; but overcome by joy, the truth has been acknowledged!"

"Do you wish that the kiss of meeting should be that of parting also?"
said Charlotte, sadly, as she raised her blue eyes with a languishing
look to the handsome, ardent face of the man who stood before her.
"Do you wish to separate forever? I must recall to you our last
conversation: 'Only when you are resolved to moderate this impetuous
manner, and curb this overflow of feeling, which reason and custom
imposes upon us, shall I be able to receive you and enjoy your
society.'"

"Yes, with these unmeaning phrases you banished me. Cruel and
hard-hearted were you to the last. Oh, Charlotte! you know what I
suffered at our last walk, with your reasoning remonstrances and
cold-hearted reproaches; they pierced my heart like poisoned arrows. If
the duke and duchess had not been walking before us, I should have wept
myself weary. My whole being cried within me: 'Oh! cruel and inexorable
woman, to beg of me, who so unutterably loves her, to call her friend
and sister!' I repeated the words daily during my absence, and sought
to clothe your beloved image with meaning. They disfigured you, and the
angel whom I adore was no longer recognizable. I cannot call you friend
or sister."

"Then I can be nothing to you, dear Wolfgang," sighed Charlotte. "In
this hour of meeting we will part, and to avoid a chance encounter even,
I will go to my husband at Kochberg, and remain there the whole summer."

Goethe seized her, holding her fast in his strong arms, staring her
in the face with a fierce, angry look. "Are you in earnest? Would you
really do it?"

"Goethe, I beg you to loosen your hold; you hurt my arms."

"Do you not also hurt me? With your cold indifference do you not pierce
my heart with red-hot daggers, and then smile and rejoice at my torture,
which is a proof to you of my unbounded love? While you only play with
me,