Works of Johann Wolfgang von Goethe

by Johann Wolfgang von Goethe

  artist: R. Schick.

  STELLA.

  madame sommer and fernando.

  ACT IV.

  Hermitage in Stella’s Garden.

  Stella.

  (Alone.) Beautiful thou bloomest, more beautiful than of yore, dear, dear spot of everlasting rest so oft desired! But thou dost no longer entice me. I tremble before thee — cool, loose earth, I tremble before thee! Ah! how often in hours of fancy would I have wrapped my head and breast resolutely in the mantle of death, and stood calmly on the edge and stepped into thy depths and buried my aching heart under thy living covering. Then should’st thou, Corruption, like a dear child, suckle this overflowing, oppressed bosom, and release my whole being in a kindly dream. And now, sun of the heaven, thou shinest upon me! — It is so light, so open around me, and I rejoice at it! — He is here again! — and in an instant Nature stands full of love around me — and I am all life — and new, warmer, more glowing life will I drink from his lips! — To him — by him — with him to dwell in lasting strength! Fernando! — He comes! Hark! — No, not yet! — Here shall he find me, here at my altar of roses, under my rose arbor. These buds will I pluck for him. — Here! here! And then will I lead him into this bower. Well, well was it that I had it constructed for two, narrow though it be. Here my book was wont to lie, my writing materials to stand! — Get ye gone, book and writing! — Would that he were here. — Again deserted! — Have I him again? Is he here?

  Enter Fernando.

  Stella.

  Where didst thou remain, thou best of men? Where wast thou? I was long, long alone! (Troubled.) What was the matter?

  Fernando.

  Those women have put me out of humor. — The elder is an excellent woman; but she will not stay, will give no reason, but insists upon hastening away. Let her go, Stella!

  Stella.

  If she is not to be moved, I do not want to keep her against her will. And, Fernando, I needed companionship — but now (on his neck) now, Fernando, I have thee!

  Fernando.

  Calm thyself!

  Stella.

  Let me weep! I would that the day were past. Even now all my limbs are in a tremble! — Joy! — All unexpected, suddenly! — Thee, Fernando! — It is almost too much, too much! I shall die amid it all!

  Fernando.

  (Aside.) Wretched man that I am! Desert her! (Aloud.) Leave me, Stella!

  Stella.

  It is thy voice, thy loving voice! Stella, Stella! Thou knowest how gladly I hear thee say that name “Stella!” No one else speaks it as thou dost. The whole soul of love is in the sound! How vivid in me is the remembrance of the day when first I heard thee utter it, when all my happiness in thee began!

  Fernando.

  Happiness?

  Stella.

  I believe that thou art beginning to count up and regretfully dwell upon the sad hours that I have spent on account of thee. Let them go, Fernando, let them go! Oh, from the moment when I saw thee for the first time, how everything in my soul was changed! Dost thou remember that afternoon in my uncle’s garden when thou camest to us? We were sitting under the great castania tree behind the summer-house.

  Fernando.

  (Aside.) She will rend my heart! (Aloud.) I see it yet, my Stella!

  Stella.

  How thou camest to us? I know not whether thou didst notice that at the very first moment thou didst attract my gaze? I at least soon observed that thine eyes sought me! Ah! Fernando, when my uncle brought the music thou didst take thy violin, and as thou didst play, my eyes rested carelessly on thee; I spied into every feature of thy countenance, and, at an unexpected moment thou didst lift up thine eyes and look — at me! Thine eyes met mine! How I blushed, how I looked away. Thou hadst noticed it, Fernando! for from that time I felt that thou didst often look away from thy notes, didst often get out of the measure, so that my uncle was vexed. Every mistake, Fernando, went through my heart! It was the sweetest confusion that I ever felt in my life! For all the gold of Golconda I could not have looked thee in the face. I made my escape and went away.

  Fernando.

  Even to the slightest circumstance! (Aside.) Unfortunate remembrance!

  Stella.

  I am often astonished at myself how I love thee, how at every moment in thy presence I forget myself entirely; yet to have everything as vividly before me as though it were but to-day! Yes, how often have I told it over to myself, Fernando! How thou didst seek me! how thou, hand in hand with a friend whom thou didst learn to know before me, camest sweeping through the bosky dale, and she cried “Stella!” and thou didst cry “Stella! Stella!” I had scarcely heard thee speak and yet I knew thy voice. And when thou overtook’st me and didst take my hand, who was the more confused, thou or I? One thing helped the other, and from that moment on — my good Sara told me that very same evening — it all took place! And what bliss in thy arms! If my Sara could have seen my joy! She was a good creature. She wept much for me when I was so ill, so love-sick! I would gladly have taken her with me when for thy sake I left everything.

  Fernando.

  Left everything!

  Stella.

  Does that offend thee? Is it not true? Left everything! Or canst thou interpret the words on Stella’s lips as a reproach? Long is it since I have had a chance to do enough for thee.

  Fernando.

  Truly! Thy uncle who loved thee like a father, who treated thee with affection, whose will was thy will, was not that much? The estate, the property, all of which were thine, would have been thine; was that nothing? The spot where thou from early youth hadst lived and enjoyed life — thy sports —

  Stella.

  And all that, Fernando, without thee? What was all that compared with thy love? When thy love first arose in my soul then did I begin to live! Yet I must assure thee that many times I thought in the lonely hours: “Why could I not enjoy all that and have his love besides? Why must we fly? Why not remain in possession of all this? Could my uncle have denied him my hand? — No! — Then why fly?” Oh, I have found excuses enough for thee! for thee! they never failed to suggest themselves to me! Even if it were a caprice, I said — as you then had numberless caprices — if it were a caprice to keep the maiden for yourself secretly as pillage! And if it were pride, to have the maiden so entirely alone without anything as dowry! Thou canst imagine that my pride was in no small degree interested to make out the best case possible! and thus thou didst accomplish thy plan.

  Fernando.

  I cannot endure it!

  Enter Annie.

  Annie.

  Excuse me, gracious lady. Where are you, captain? Everything is packed and now you only are missing! The young lady has caused so much running and trouble to-day that it was unendurable; and now you are missing!

  Stella.

  Go, Fernando, bring them over. Pay their bill for them, but come right back again.

  Annie.

  Are you not going with them? The young lady has ordered a post-chaise for three; your servant has certainly packed up your things!

  Stella.

  Fernando, this is a mistake! What does the girl know?

  Annie.

  What do I know? Truly it looks strange that the captain is going off with the young lady away from your ladyship, since she made his acquaintance at table! That was a touching parting, when you pressed her hand and wished a blessing on her!

  Stella.

  (Constrained.) Fernando!

  Fernando.

  This is a mere child!

  Annie.

  Don’t you believe him, gracious lady; everything is all packed up! The gentleman is going with them!

  Fernando.

  Whither? whither?

  Stella.

  Leave us, Annie! (Exit Annie.) Save me from this horrible uncertainty. I fear nothing, and yet this child’s chatter troubles me. Thou art moved, Fernando! I am thy Stella!

  Fernando.

  (Turning about and seizing her hand.) Thou art my Stella!


  Stella.

  Thou frightenest me, Fernando! Thy face is wild!

  Fernando.

  Stella, I am a scoundrel and a coward and can hide nothing from thee! Flee! I have not the heart to thrust the dagger into thy breast and would secretly poison thee, murder thee! Stella!

  Stella.

  For God’s sake!

  Fernando.

  (Trembling with rage.) I cannot stand thy grief nor hear thy despair! Fly!

  Stella.

  I cannot endure it!

  [She almost sinks but clings to him.

  Fernando.

  Stella, whom I hold in my arms! Stella, thou who art all to me! Stella! (Coldly.) I leave thee!

  Stella.

  (Laughing wildly.) Me?

  Fernando.

  (Gnashing his teeth.) Thee — with the woman whom thou hast seen! with the maiden!

  Stella.

  It is growing dark!

  Fernando.

  And that woman is my wife! ( Stella looks at him without comprehending and lets her arms fall.) And the maiden is my daughter! Stella! (He notices for the first time that she has fallen fainting.) Stella! (He lifts her to a sitting posture.) Stella! Help! help!

  Enter Cecilia and Lucy.

  Fernando.

  Behold! behold the angel! she has fled! behold! — help!

  [They bestir themselves in her behalf.

  Lucy.

  She is coming to!

  Fernando.

  (Looking at her in silence.) Through thee! through thee!

  [Exit .

  Stella.

  Who? who? (Standing up.) Where is he? (She sinks back, looking at those who are assisting her.) Thank you! thank you! — Who are you?

  Cecilia.

  Calm yourself! It is we!

  Stella.

  You? — You are not gone? You are — God! who told me? — Who art thou? Art thou — (Seizing Cecilia by the hands.) No, I cannot endure it!

  Cecilia.

  Best! dearest! I press thee, my angel, to my heart!

  Stella.

  Tell me — it lies deep in my soul — tell me — art thou —

  Cecilia.

  I am — I am his wife!

  Stella.

  (Leaping to her feet, closing her eyes.) And I?

  [She walks bewildered up and down.

  Cecilia.

  Come to your room!

  Stella.

  Why dost thou remind me of it? What is mine? — Horrible! horrible! — Are these my trees, which I planted, which I watered? Why in an instant has everything become so strange? — Thrust out! — Lost! — Lost forever! Fernando! Fernando!

  Cecilia.

  Go, Lucy, find thy father!

  Stella.

  For God’s sake! stop! Away! Let him not come! Away with you! — Father! — Spouse!

  Cecilia.

  Sweet love!

  Stella.

  Thou lovest me? Thou pressest me to thy heart? — No, no! — Leave me — thrust me away! (On her neck.) Yet one moment more! It will be all over so far as I am concerned! My heart! my heart!

  Lucy.

  Thou must rest!

  Stella.

  I cannot endure to see you! I have poisoned your life! I have robbed you of everything! You in misery! and I — what bliss in his arms! (She throws herself on her knees.) Can ye forgive me?

  Cecilia.

  Don’t! don’t!

  [They try to lift her up.

  Stella.

  Here will I lie, beg, mourn, before God and you: “Pardon! pardon!” (She springs up.) Pardon? — Ye give me consolation! I am not to blame! — Thou gavest him to me, holy God in heaven! I held him fast as the dearest gift from Thy hand — leave me! My heart is breaking!

  Cecilia.

  Thou art innocent! Dear one!

  Stella.

  (On her neck.) I read in thy eyes, on thy lips heavenly words! Hold me! Bear me up! I am undone! She forgives me! She feels for my misery!

  Cecilia.

  Sister! my sister! Calm thyself! Have faith that He who put these feelings in our bosoms, these feelings that so often make us wretched, can also prepare consolation and help for them.

  Stella.

  Let me die in thy arms!

  Cecilia.

  Come!

  Stella.

  (After a pause, starting up wildly.) Leave me — all of you! See! a whole world of perplexities and pain overwhelms my soul and fills it with unspeakable torments! — It is impossible — impossible! — It is so sudden! It is not to be grasped, not to be borne!

  [She stands for a time silently looking down, in deep reflection, then looks up, gazes at both of the women, starts back with a shriek and runs away.

  Cecilia.

  Follow her, Lucy! Watch her! (Exit Lucy.) Look down upon Thy children and their perplexities, their griefs! — In sorrow, I have learned much! Strengthen [Editor: illegible text] And if the tangle can be unsolved, holy God in heaven, let not violence be done!

  ACT V.

  Stella’s Library.

  In Moonlight.

  Stella.

  (She has Fernando’s portrait and is about to pluck it from the frame.) Fulness of the night, surround me! possess me! lead me! I know not whither I am going! — I must! I will away into the wide world! Whither? Alas! whither? Banished from Thy creation! Where thou, holy moon, shinest on the tops of my trees, where thou with thy terrible dear shadow surroundest my darling Mina’s grave, shall I no longer wander? Must I go from the spot where all the treasures of my life, all my sacred associations are gathered? — And thou, place of my tomb, whereupon I have rested so often in reverence and tears, which I consecrated to myself, around which all the melancholy, all the joy of my life was dreamed over, where I hoped even after I should be no more to hover and to find enjoyment while yearning for the past, must I be banished from thee? — Be banished! — Thou art dazed, thank God! Thy brain is seared! thou canst not grasp it — the thought of banishment! Thou would’st lose thy senses! Well! — Oh, I am dizzy! — Farewell! — Farewell! — Shall I never see thee again? — There is a death-glance in the feeling! Not see thee again? — Away! Stella! (She seizes the portrait.) And must I leave thee behind? (She takes a knife and begins to pry out the nails.) Oh, would that I could be free from thought! Would that I might breathe out my life in heavy sleep, in rapturous tears! The truth is and must be that thou art wretched! — (Turning the painting into the moonlight.) Ah! Fernando! when thou camest to me, and my heart sprang to meet thee, didst thou not place reliance on thy faith, thy goodness! — Didst thou not feel what a sanctuary was ready for thee, when my heart opened to receive thee? — And thou didst not shrink back at my presence? Thou didst not sink! thou didst not escape? — Thou wast able to pluck my innocence, my happiness, my life, like a flower, for mere pastime, and cast it aside thoughtlessly upon the way? — Noble? ha! noble! My youth — my golden days! — And thou carriedst this deep treachery in thy heart! — Thy wife! thy daughter! — And my soul was free, pure as a spring morning! — All, all, a hope! — Where art thou, Stella? — (Gazing at the portrait.) So great! so flattering! — It was this expression that brought me to ruin! — I hate thee! — Away! turn away! So dreamy! so dear! — No, no! — Spoiler! — Me? — Me? — Thou? — Me? — (She thrusts the dagger at the painting.) Fernando! — (She turns away, drops the knife, and with a torrent of tears kneels before the chair.) Dearest! dearest! ’Tis vain, ’tis vain!

  Enter Servant.

  Servant.

  Your ladyship! According to your command the horses are at the back garden gate. Your linen is packed! Don’t forget to take money.

  Stella.

  The painting! ( Servant picks up the knife and cuts the painting from the frame and rolls it.) Here is money.

  Servant.

  But why?

  Stella.

  (Standing motionless a moment, looking up and around.) Come!

  [Exit .

  Hall.

  Fernando.r />
  (Alone.) Leave me! leave me! Lo! now it seizes me again with all its horrible confusion! — So chill, so fearful lies all before me — as though the world were naught — as though I had committed no wrong therein. — And the world! — Ha! I am no more wretched than you. What have yet to demand of me? — What is the end of the thought? — Here! and here! From one end to the other! Everything thought of! and thought of again and again! and evermore terrifying, more horrible! (Holding his forehead.) It comes to this at last! Nothing before, nothing back of me! Nowhere help, nowhere counsel! — And these two, these three noblest and best of women on the earth — wretched through me! — wretched without thee! — Alas! still more wretched with me — If I could mourn, could doubt, could beg for forgiveness — could in dull hope spend but one hour — could lie at their feet and enjoy the bliss of wretchedness in sympathy! And where are they? Stella! thou liest prone, thou gazest up to heaven and criest in despair: “What crime have I, poor blossom, done, that Thy wrath so crushes me? What was my sin that Thou should’st lead this villain to me?” Cecilia! my wife! oh, my wife! — Misery! misery! deep misery! — What beatitudes united to make me wretched! Husband! Father! Lover! — The noblest and best of women! — Thine! thine! — Canst thou comprehend this, this threefold, unspeakable delight? — And now it is this that affects thee so, that tears thee in pieces! — Each demands me absolutely! And I? — Here it is over! — Deep, unfathomable! — She will be wretched! — Stella! thou art wretched! — Of what have I robbed thee? — The consciousness of thyself, thy young life! Stella! — And I am so cold? (He takes a pistol from the table.) Yet whatever may come! — (He loads.)

  Enter Cecilia.

  Cecilia.

  My best beloved! How is it with us? (She looks at the pistol.) That looks as if thou wert ready for a journey! (Fernando lays it down.) My friend, thou seemest to me serene. Can I speak one word with thee?

  Fernando.

  What will’st thou, Cecilia? What will’st thou, my wife?

  Cecilia.

  Call me not so until I have finished speaking. We are now indeed very much perplexed! Cannot this be regulated? I have suffered much, and hence want no violent resolutions! Dost thou understand me, Fernando?