The uplifted arm of the poet sank at his side, and the fiery glance was softened. "No human word is capable of expressing what Prometheus just spoke in thunder," said Goethe, musingly, "and Ihumbly feel how weak and insignificant we are, and how great we think ourselves, while our voice is like the humming beetle in comparison to this voice from the clouds.""Be not desponding, Wolf, your own will ring throughout Europe;every ear will listen and every heart will comprehend, and centuries later it will delight with its freshness and beauty. The storm passes and dies away, but the poet lives in his heavenly melodies through all time. You must finish 'Prometheus' for me, Wolf. Icannot permit you to leave it as a fragment. I will have it in black and white, to refresh myself in its beauty bright. A spark of your divine talent is infused into my soul, and I begin to rhyme. Ah, Wolf, all that is elevated within me I owe to you, and I bless Fate for according you to me.""And I also, dear Charles," said Goethe, feelingly. "For, fostered and protected by your noble mind and nature, my inmost thoughts develop and blossom. We give and receive daily from each other, and so mingle the roots of our being that, God willing, we will become two beautiful trees, like the oak which now arches over us. But see, the rain is fast ceasing, and the sun looks out by the clinched hand of Prometheus. We can now travel on to the loved spot.""Oh, Wolf, are you in love? None but a lover could say the rain has ceased, when it pours down so that we should be drenched before we could arrive at Weimar. But hark! I hear a carriage in the distance;we may be favored with a shelter."
The duke stepped out from under the trees, and looked along the highway with his sharp hunter's eye. "A vehicle approaches, but no chance for us, as it appears to be a farm-wagon, crowded with men and women.""Indeed it does," said Goethe, joining him; "a very merry company they are too, singing gayly. Now, grant the rain rain has ceased--""Charlotte von Stein is at Weimar," interrupted the duke. "Give me your arm, and we will walk on."They advanced briskly arm in arm. A stranger meeting them would have supposed that they were brothers, so much alike were they in form, manners, and dress, for the duke as well as Goethe wore the Werther costume.
As they descended, the carriage came nearer and nearer. The duke's keen eye had not been deceived. It was a farm-wagon, filled with a frolicsome party, sitting on bags of straw for cushions. They were chatting and laughing absorbed in fun, and did not observe the two foot-passengers, who turned aside from them. A sudden cry of surprise hushed the conversation; a form rose, half man and half woman, enveloped in a man's coat of green baize, crowned with a neat little hat of a woman. "Oh, it is Charles!" cried the form, and at the same instant the duke sprang to the wagon. "Is it possible, my dear mother?""The Duchess Amelia!" cried Goethe, astonished.
"Yes," laughed the duchess, greeting them with an affectionate look.
"The proverb proves itself--'Like mother, like son.' On the highway mother and son have met. You should have done the honors in a stately equipage.""May I be permitted to ask where you come from?" asked the duke.
"And the dress, of what order do you wear?""We walked to Ziefurt, and intended to walk back. Thusnelda is so delicate and weak, that she complained of her fairy feet paining her," answered the duchess, laughing.
"Ah, duchess, must I always be the butt?" cried the lady behind the duchess, crouching between the straw-sacks. "Must I permit you to follow in my footsteps, while I--""Hush, Goechhausen--hush, sweet Philomel," interrupted the duke, "or the Delphic riddle of this costume will be apparent.""It is easily explained," said the duchess. "No other conveyance was to be had, and my good Wieland gave me his green overcoat to protect me from the pouring rain." [Footnote: True anecdote.--See Lewes'
"Goethe's Life and Writings," vol. 1., p. 406.]
"And from to-day forth it will be a precious palladium," cried the little man with a mild, happy face on the straw by the duchess.
"And there is Knebel too," shouted the duke to the gentleman who just then pulled the wet hood of his cloak over his powdered hair.
"Our treasurer Bertuch, Count Werther, and Baron von Einsiedel also.""Does not your highness ask after our bewitching countess?" asked Goechhausen, in her fine, sharp voice. "The countess is quite ill--is she not, Count Werther?"
