University of Virginia Library

SCENE, WERTER's Apartment.
Enter WERTER and LEUTHROP.
(Werter giving Leuthrop letters.)
These to my mother—from Sebastian these—
Get them convey'd and meet me here again,
And mark me—that I prevail'd upon my friend
Not to depart from Manheim 'till to-night,
Must be divulg'd to none.

Leuthrop.
I shall obey, sir.

Werter.
How goes the night?

Leuthrop.
'Tis near the second watch.

Werter.
Then, time, I must no longer trifle with thee—
Something must be done—and that most quickly—
Yet, what is to be done?—O, 'tis an awful
Moment! and I must use it like a man—
Away, and leave me.

Leuthrop.
His disorder'd speech,
And the wild fury in his looks, foretell
Some new misfortune—I will not leave him.

(goes up the stage.
Werter
(pausing.)
Death is the common medicine for woe—
The peaceful haven, which the shatter'd bark
In tempests ever seeks.—'Tis but to raise
The curtain, and another scene succeeds—
Then why delay'd?—why yet these doubtful fears?
Oh! 'tis the mind that shudders at the thought
Of dark uncertainty!

Leuthrop
(coming forward.)
O, Sir, forgive the ardour of your slave,
Who rudely thus intrudes—but much I fear
Some new affliction wounds my master's peace,
Which I perhaps can lessen or avert.

Werter.
Away! away!

Leuthrop.
O do but try me, sir!
I would walk bare-foot o'er the boundless world,
And every step that wrung my aged feet,
Should be a shoot of comfort to my soul,
Could I but mitigate my master's woes?

Werter.
If thou would'st shew obedience to my will,
This instant leave me, nor increase my pain.
[Exit Leuthrop.
(pausing again.)
Yet in this world can I e'er hope for peace?
Peace!—when my Charlotte is another's wife.
E'en now perhaps she languishes away,
And melts transported in her Albert's arm.—
Ha! that dread thought works inward on my soul
Like darting poison—and my mad'ning brain
Is swell'd with desperation—O, 'tis an hour
Of horrors! and it calls for horrid deeds—
One of the three must die—that heaven decrees—
Shall it be Albert? shall these yet spotless hands
Shed virtue's blood? and shall the honest fall,
To let the guilty take their happier seats?
O damn'd thought!—I shudder at myself,
For bare imagination of the deed!
Shall Charlotte then?—shall that sweet angel form
Be torn—be mangled—and in Werter's cause?
Oh, cruel! cruel fate!—I'll pause no more—
One thought alone possesses all my soul,
And that shall be obey'd—Werter himself shall die!
This long has struggl'd in my wither'd brain,
And now it bursts, and my whole soul's at peace!
In such a glorious cause who would not fall?
Now, Albert, live! and bless that perfect fair,
For whom I liv'd, for whom—I soon shall die—
And, Charlotte, when the grave holds all that's left
Of that unhappy agitated being,
Who knew no pleasure but in sight of thee!
Oh! when you wander thro' your long-lov'd vale,
Then think of Werter!—think how oft his sighs
Have fill'd the sounding woods!—how oft his tears
Have dew'd the weeping grass!—and if you wish
To feed on sorrows never tasted yet!
Look!—towards the church-yard that contains his bones,
And see! with pity, how the evening breeze
Waves the high grass that grows upon his grave!
Alas!—these thoughts recal such tender scenes!
They quite unman me.

Re-enter LEUTHROP.
Leuthrop.
In tears—O heaven!
Teach me some way to sooth my master's woes—
My gentle master.—

Werter.
Whence this intrusion?

Leuthrop.
I have obey'd your orders, Sir!

Werter.
'Tis well.—
(pausing.)
To night shall close the scene—the midnight watch
Shall be the hour—e're that—she may be seen.—
Attend me to my chamber!—and now high heaven!
Aid me with calmness 'till I meet my fate!

[Exeunt.