 | Werter |  |
SCENE ALBERT's Apartment,
Enter ALBERT.
Enough is known; and I with pity see
A youth the noblest, struggling to subdue
A generous passion; whilst I in peace possess
The valued treasure he so much admires—
As the disturber of another's peace,
Honour compels me to attempt relief.
Enter CHARLOTTE.
Albert.
At length the wish'd for moment is arriv'd?
At length I clasp thee in a fond embrace!
Charlotte.
Oh, 'tis an age since last we met!
Albert.
The pangs of absence have indeed been great.
Yes, most severe—But I'll no more complain;
Propitious heaven has granted all I ask'd;
Has yielded thee, the summit of my hopes!
And we shall part no more.
Charlotte.
May heaven so grant!
Albert.
Why those doubtful words?—and why that pensive look?
Oh! had I thought of meeting thee in grief!
The pangs of absence never had been borne—
'Twas the fond prospect of our future bliss,
That only cheer'd my pains!
Charlotte.
Alas! my Lord,
When the great secret in my breast is known,
You will not wonder at my present grief—
Perhaps you'll think I merit all I feel;
And wound me with reproach!
Albert.
Banish thy fears—
I know that secret—I approve its cause:
It adds new honour to the best of hearts;
And makes me worship, where before I lov'd—
Oh, if that only interrupts thy peace,
Thank heaven! for Albert can dispel thy grief!
Charlotte.
Heavens is it possible?—Yes, 'tis Albert;
The same unalter'd Albert I esteem!
Albert.
And, could'st thou think that Albert was so base,
As not to sympathize in Charlotte's woes?—
I scorn suspicion, and its jealous train;
'Tis only nourish'd where pollution lives.
For ever, in the pure unspotted breast,
The poisoning canker starves—But Oh, my Charlotte!
Long have I known thy honour, love, and truth;
Have seen these jewels stand such trying tests,
That when I doubt them—may I cease to live!
Charlotte.
Who could be false, when truth is thus esteem'd?—
Albert, there need'd not my truth alone,
To make thy peace secure—for had I wish'd
To prove unfaithful—I had wish'd in vain.
Werter had scorn'd me for a thought so mean,
For oh! his honour only stoops to thine.
Albert.
Then as his honour has preserv'd my peace,
Mine shall instruct me to restore him his—
Yes; I wish shew this all excelling youth,
That Albert never was outdone by him.
I'll seek his friendship, and his sorrows share;
And, if my Charlotte shall approve the thought,
Entreat him to remain and share our bliss.
Charlotte.
Our bliss will yield but little ease to him—
Absence and time, can only cure his wounds—
But see he come—permit me to retire—
My presence will but add to his distress—
All Albert's wishes are sincerely mine.
Exit.
Enter WERTER and SEBASTIAN.
Werter.
Ha! Albert here—'tis him I would have shun'd—
Albert.
Is this the Werter I have heard so prais'd?
Is this the youth I wish'd so much to view?
Yes, yes it is—for heaven has kindly stamp'd
The picture of the mind upon the face!—
Come to my arms, thou honest, noble youth.
Wrrter.
My heart o'erflows—I know not how to thank
This generous kindness!
Albert.
Oh, I have heard thy worth!
Thy various virtues have been told me all,
And lovely Charlotte has enhanc'd the tale.
Yes, she has praised thee with such ardent warmth,
That my heart panted to embrace the man,
So much esteem'd, by her I most adore.—
Werter.
Has Charlotte told thee? has the lovely Charlotte
Told Albert this? O, for this generous act,
May blessings, numerous as her virtues, fall
To make her life a heaven!—But ah! her praise
Is little due to Werter.
Albert.
Not due to thee!
Then when shall merit meet its just applause?
If to have lov'd, where 'tis a charm to love;
If to have struggl'd, to subdue that love.
(When honour only urg'd thee to the thought,)
And not subduing, to have nobly fled;
Leaving behind the Eden of thy soul.
If this is worth! if this deserves applause!
Who then shall claim, or merit more than Werter?
Werter.
By heaven, 'till now, my heart ne'er dreamt of praise:
For only in itself it sought applause—
But at this moment, it expands with pride,
Since it is applauded by the man it loves!
Oh! it would rather hear his honest praise,
Than all the tributes of a flattering world!
Albert.
How could I curse my own inferior soul!
That checks me from repaying such perfection—
Werter, alas! only thought occurs,
One only prospect to my wishes dawns,
To sooth thy anguish, banish Charlotte's fears,
And make me blest indeed!
Werter.
Oh, name it then.
Albert.
Delay thy journey, and remain with us.
Werter.
Heavens!
This stings me to the heart—this wounds me more
Than all the agonies of keen reproach:
Yet, it shall only strengthen my design,
For I will prove I am not quite out-done.
Albert.
Let not thy hapless passion drive thee hence:
It is a love so pure, so void of guilt,
That other passions might supply its loss.
From Charlotte's friendship you may surely gain.
The very pleasures thou hast hop'd from love;
For friendship's but another name for love,
When love's so pure as thine—Come, come, consent
Myself will mingle in the social scene;
One common interest shall embrace us all,
And thus united we may smile at fate.
Werter.
O, thou'rt worthy of the praise thou'st won!
Thus in the moments of the highest bliss
To think of me, a wretch so wholly lost—
Shew such compassion—pity my weakness;
(weeps.]
I can't support the anguish of my soul.
(turns up the stage.]
Sebastian
(coming forward.)
Thou generous man! a moment turn to me;
Look on his sorrows, and with pity think
How much his friends endure, how much they wish
To take a long lost favourite to their arms:
Soften his sorrows, and restore his peace.
Oh think on this, and soon thy gentle soul
Will cease to pour its liberal wishes forth;
Will cease to lure him from our only hope.
Albert.
Think not I mean to lure him from his friends:
'Twas the fond wish of soothing his afflictions
That only made me speak—but since I see
The happy prospect of returning peace,
That wish is well fulfill'd—I thank thee much,
And will no longer urge him from his purpose.
Sebastian.
How will the friends of Werter worship thee?
How will they pour their blessings on the man?
Who spurning jealousy made him his friend
Whom love had made his foe.
Albert.
Name it no more;
I'm amply paid in acting as I ought,
And shall retire well pleas'd.—Farewell,—and yet,
'Tis most ungenerous to leave him thus:
Thus sunk in sorrow, when perhaps a smile
From soothing Charlotte might revive his hopes:
Ah, look!—it will—his glances say it will!
Werter.
Why, can't I speak, and tell him what I feel?
Albert
, (to Sebastian.)
Wilt thou consent?
Sebastian.
Alas! I dread the scene.
Albert.
O do not fear—she shall not know his purpose;
I will deceive her with the flattering hope
Of his remaining here, and thus prevent
The conflict that alarms thee.
Sebastian.
Well, I submit.
Albert.
Oft have I felt her soothing power myself,
And therefore know how much she can relieve:
Come then my friend, (taking Werter by the hand)
together let us haste
To that bright heaven that we both adore.
Sebastian
(to Werter.)
I shall expect thee at the Western gate
An hour e'er mid-night.
Werter.
I will attend thee there;
'Till then, farewell.—O what a wretch am I,
That have not power to make one poor return
For all this wond'rous goodness?—Yet, Albert,
Think me not always thus!—the time may come
When wretched Werter shall deserve thy praise.
[Exeunt.
Sebastian
(solus.)
Heavens, with what wonder have I view'd this scene:
A rival pleading in a rival's cause,
And both contending who shall most excell:
Werter, I know is fix'd in his design;
How well rewarded is Sebastian then?
Soon shall he see the gathering storm disperse,
And sunshine beam upon his friends again.
[Exit.
Enter ALBERT.
Enough is known; and I with pity see
A youth the noblest, struggling to subdue
A generous passion; whilst I in peace possess
The valued treasure he so much admires—
As the disturber of another's peace,
Honour compels me to attempt relief.
Enter CHARLOTTE.
Albert.
At length the wish'd for moment is arriv'd?
At length I clasp thee in a fond embrace!
Charlotte.
Oh, 'tis an age since last we met!
Albert.
The pangs of absence have indeed been great.
Yes, most severe—But I'll no more complain;
Propitious heaven has granted all I ask'd;
Has yielded thee, the summit of my hopes!
And we shall part no more.
Charlotte.
May heaven so grant!
Albert.
Why those doubtful words?—and why that pensive look?
Oh! had I thought of meeting thee in grief!
The pangs of absence never had been borne—
19
That only cheer'd my pains!
Charlotte.
Alas! my Lord,
When the great secret in my breast is known,
You will not wonder at my present grief—
Perhaps you'll think I merit all I feel;
And wound me with reproach!
Albert.
Banish thy fears—
I know that secret—I approve its cause:
It adds new honour to the best of hearts;
And makes me worship, where before I lov'd—
Oh, if that only interrupts thy peace,
Thank heaven! for Albert can dispel thy grief!
Charlotte.
Heavens is it possible?—Yes, 'tis Albert;
The same unalter'd Albert I esteem!
Albert.
And, could'st thou think that Albert was so base,
As not to sympathize in Charlotte's woes?—
I scorn suspicion, and its jealous train;
'Tis only nourish'd where pollution lives.
For ever, in the pure unspotted breast,
The poisoning canker starves—But Oh, my Charlotte!
Long have I known thy honour, love, and truth;
Have seen these jewels stand such trying tests,
That when I doubt them—may I cease to live!
Charlotte.
Who could be false, when truth is thus esteem'd?—
Albert, there need'd not my truth alone,
To make thy peace secure—for had I wish'd
To prove unfaithful—I had wish'd in vain.
20
For oh! his honour only stoops to thine.
Albert.
Then as his honour has preserv'd my peace,
Mine shall instruct me to restore him his—
Yes; I wish shew this all excelling youth,
That Albert never was outdone by him.
I'll seek his friendship, and his sorrows share;
And, if my Charlotte shall approve the thought,
Entreat him to remain and share our bliss.
Charlotte.
Our bliss will yield but little ease to him—
Absence and time, can only cure his wounds—
But see he come—permit me to retire—
My presence will but add to his distress—
All Albert's wishes are sincerely mine.
Exit.
Enter WERTER and SEBASTIAN.
Werter.
Ha! Albert here—'tis him I would have shun'd—
Albert.
Is this the Werter I have heard so prais'd?
Is this the youth I wish'd so much to view?
Yes, yes it is—for heaven has kindly stamp'd
The picture of the mind upon the face!—
Come to my arms, thou honest, noble youth.
Wrrter.
My heart o'erflows—I know not how to thank
This generous kindness!
21
Oh, I have heard thy worth!
Thy various virtues have been told me all,
And lovely Charlotte has enhanc'd the tale.
Yes, she has praised thee with such ardent warmth,
That my heart panted to embrace the man,
So much esteem'd, by her I most adore.—
Werter.
Has Charlotte told thee? has the lovely Charlotte
Told Albert this? O, for this generous act,
May blessings, numerous as her virtues, fall
To make her life a heaven!—But ah! her praise
Is little due to Werter.
Albert.
Not due to thee!
Then when shall merit meet its just applause?
If to have lov'd, where 'tis a charm to love;
If to have struggl'd, to subdue that love.
(When honour only urg'd thee to the thought,)
And not subduing, to have nobly fled;
Leaving behind the Eden of thy soul.
If this is worth! if this deserves applause!
Who then shall claim, or merit more than Werter?
Werter.
By heaven, 'till now, my heart ne'er dreamt of praise:
For only in itself it sought applause—
But at this moment, it expands with pride,
Since it is applauded by the man it loves!
Oh! it would rather hear his honest praise,
Than all the tributes of a flattering world!
Albert.
How could I curse my own inferior soul!
That checks me from repaying such perfection—
Werter, alas! only thought occurs,
22
To sooth thy anguish, banish Charlotte's fears,
And make me blest indeed!
Werter.
Oh, name it then.
Albert.
Delay thy journey, and remain with us.
Werter.
Heavens!
This stings me to the heart—this wounds me more
Than all the agonies of keen reproach:
Yet, it shall only strengthen my design,
For I will prove I am not quite out-done.
Albert.
Let not thy hapless passion drive thee hence:
It is a love so pure, so void of guilt,
That other passions might supply its loss.
From Charlotte's friendship you may surely gain.
The very pleasures thou hast hop'd from love;
For friendship's but another name for love,
When love's so pure as thine—Come, come, consent
Myself will mingle in the social scene;
One common interest shall embrace us all,
And thus united we may smile at fate.
Werter.
O, thou'rt worthy of the praise thou'st won!
Thus in the moments of the highest bliss
To think of me, a wretch so wholly lost—
Shew such compassion—pity my weakness;
(weeps.]
I can't support the anguish of my soul.
(turns up the stage.]
23
(coming forward.)
Thou generous man! a moment turn to me;
Look on his sorrows, and with pity think
How much his friends endure, how much they wish
To take a long lost favourite to their arms:
Soften his sorrows, and restore his peace.
Oh think on this, and soon thy gentle soul
Will cease to pour its liberal wishes forth;
Will cease to lure him from our only hope.
Albert.
Think not I mean to lure him from his friends:
'Twas the fond wish of soothing his afflictions
That only made me speak—but since I see
The happy prospect of returning peace,
That wish is well fulfill'd—I thank thee much,
And will no longer urge him from his purpose.
Sebastian.
How will the friends of Werter worship thee?
How will they pour their blessings on the man?
Who spurning jealousy made him his friend
Whom love had made his foe.
Albert.
Name it no more;
I'm amply paid in acting as I ought,
And shall retire well pleas'd.—Farewell,—and yet,
'Tis most ungenerous to leave him thus:
Thus sunk in sorrow, when perhaps a smile
From soothing Charlotte might revive his hopes:
Ah, look!—it will—his glances say it will!
Werter.
Why, can't I speak, and tell him what I feel?
Albert
, (to Sebastian.)
Wilt thou consent?
24
Alas! I dread the scene.
Albert.
O do not fear—she shall not know his purpose;
I will deceive her with the flattering hope
Of his remaining here, and thus prevent
The conflict that alarms thee.
Sebastian.
Well, I submit.
Albert.
Oft have I felt her soothing power myself,
And therefore know how much she can relieve:
Come then my friend, (taking Werter by the hand)
together let us haste
To that bright heaven that we both adore.
Sebastian
(to Werter.)
I shall expect thee at the Western gate
An hour e'er mid-night.
Werter.
I will attend thee there;
'Till then, farewell.—O what a wretch am I,
That have not power to make one poor return
For all this wond'rous goodness?—Yet, Albert,
Think me not always thus!—the time may come
When wretched Werter shall deserve thy praise.
[Exeunt.
Sebastian
(solus.)
Heavens, with what wonder have I view'd this scene:
A rival pleading in a rival's cause,
And both contending who shall most excell:
Werter, I know is fix'd in his design;
25
Soon shall he see the gathering storm disperse,
And sunshine beam upon his friends again.
[Exit.
| Werter | |