少年维特的烦恼 英文版 The Sorrows of Young Werther
歌德 Johann Wolfgang von Goethe
THE EDITOR TO THE READER.
It is a matter of extreme regret that we want original evidenceof the last remarkable days of our friend; and we are, therefore,obliged to interrupt the progress of his correspondence, and tosupply the deficiency by a connected narration.
I have felt it my duty to collect accurate information from themouths of persons well acquainted with his history. The storyis simple; and all the accounts agree, except in some unimportantparticulars. It is true, that, with respect to the characters ofthe persons spoken of, opinions and judgments vary.
We have only, then, to relate conscientiously the facts which ourdiligent labour has enabled us to collect, to give the lettersof the deceased, and to pay particular attention to the slightestfragment from his pen, more especially as it is so difficult todiscover the real and correct motives of men who are not of thecommon order.
Sorrow and discontent had taken deep root in Werther's soul, andgradually imparted their character to his whole being. The harmonyof his mind became completely disturbed; a perpetual excitementand mental irritation, which weakened his natural powers, producedthe saddest effects upon him, and rendered him at length the victimof an exhaustion against which he struggled with still more painfulefforts than he had displayed, even in contending with his othermisfortunes. His mental anxiety weakened his various good qualities;and he was soon converted into a gloomy companion, always unhappyand unjust in his ideas, the more wretched he became. This was,at least, the opinion of Albert's friends. They assert, moreover,that the character of Albert himself had undergone no change inthe meantime: he was still the same being whom Werther had loved,honoured, and respected from the commencement. His love forCharlotte was unbounded: he was proud of her, and desired thatshe should be recognised by every one as the noblest of createdbeings. Was he, however, to blame for wishing to avert from herevery appearance of suspicion? or for his unwillingness to sharehis rich prize with another, even for a moment, and in the mostinnocent manner? It is asserted that Albert frequently retiredfrom his wife's apartment during Werther's visits; but this didnot arise from hatred or aversion to his friend, but only from afeeling that his presence was oppressive to Werther.
Charlotte's father, who was confined to the house by indisposition,was accustomed to send his carriage for her, that she might makeexcursions in the neighbourhood. One day the weather had beenunusually severe, and the whole country was covered with snow.
Werther went for Charlotte the following morning, in order that,if Albert were absent, he might conduct her home.
The beautiful weather produced but little impression on his troubledspirit. A heavy weight lay upon his soul, deep melancholy hadtaken possession of him, and his mind knew no change save from onepainful thought to another.
As he now never enjoyed internal peace, the condition of his fellowcreatures was to him a perpetual source of trouble and distress.He believed he had disturbed the happiness of Albert and his wife;and, whilst he censured himself strongly for this, he began toentertain a secret dislike to Albert.
His thoughts were occasionally directed to this point. "Yes," hewould repeat to himself, with ill-concealed dissatisfaction, "yes,this is, after all, the extent of that confiding, dear, tender,and sympathetic love, that calm and eternal fidelity! What do Ibehold but satiety and indifference? Does not every frivolousengagement attract him more than his charming and lovely wife?Does he know how to prize his happiness? Can he value her as shedeserves? He possesses her, it is true, I know that, as I knowmuch more, and I have become accustomed to the thought that hewill drive me mad, or, perhaps, murder me. Is his friendshiptoward me unimpaired? Does he not view my attachment to Charlotteas an infringement upon his rights, and consider my attention toher as a silent rebuke to himself? I know, and indeed feel, thathe dislikes me, that he wishes for my absence, that my presenceis hateful to him."
He would often pause when on his way to visit Charlotte, standstill, as though in doubt, and seem desirous of returning, butwould nevertheless proceed; and, engaged in such thoughts andsoliloquies as we have described, he finally reached the hunting-lodge,with a sort of involuntary consent.
Upon one occasion he entered the house; and, inquiring forCharlotte, he observed that the inmates were in a state ofunusual confusion. The eldest boy informed him that a dreadfulmisfortune had occurred at Walheim, -- that a peasant had beenmurdered! But this made little impression upon him. Enteringthe apartment, he found Charlotte engaged reasoning with her father,who, in spite of his infirmity, insisted on going to the scene ofthe crime, in order to institute an inquiry. The criminal wasunknown; the victim had been found dead at his own door thatmorning. Suspicions were excited: the murdered man had been inthe service of a widow, and the person who had previously filledthe situation had been dismissed from her employment.
As soon as Werther heard this, he exclaimed with great excitement,"Is it possible! I must go to the spot -- I cannot delay a moment!"He hastened to Walheim. Every incident returned vividly to hisremembrance; and he entertained not the slightest doubt that thatman was the murderer to whom he had so often spoken, and for whomhe entertained so much regard. His way took him past the well-knownlime trees, to the house where the body had been carried; and hisfeelings were greatly excited at the sight of the fondly recollectedspot. That threshold where the neighbours' children had so oftenplayed together was stained with blood; love and attachment, thenoblest feelings of human nature, had been converted into violenceand murder. The huge trees stood there leafless and covered withhoarfrost; the beautiful hedgerows which surrounded the oldchurchyard wall were withered; and the gravestones, half coveredwith snow, were visible through the openings.
As he approached the inn, in front of which the whole village wasassembled, screams were suddenly heard. A troop of armed peasantswas seen approaching, and every one exclaimed that the criminalhad been apprehended. Werther looked, and was not long in doubt.The prisoner was no other than the servant, who had been formerlyso attached to the widow, and whom he had met prowling about, withthat suppressed anger and ill-concealed despair, which we havebefore described.
"What have you done, unfortunate man?" inquired Werther, as headvanced toward the prisoner. The latter turned his eyes upon himin silence, and then replied with perfect composure; "No one willnow marry her, and she will marry no one." The prisoner was takeninto the inn, and Werther left the place. The mind of Werther wasfearfully excited by this shocking occurrence. He ceased, however,to be oppressed by his usual feeling of melancholy, moroseness,and indifference to everything that passed around him. He entertaineda strong degree of pity for the prisoner, and was seized with anindescribable anxiety to save him from his impending fate. Heconsidered him so unfortunate, he deemed his crime so excusable,and thought his own condition so nearly similar, that he feltconvinced he could make every one else view the matter in the lightin which he saw it himself. He now became anxious to undertakehis defence, and commenced composing an eloquent speech for theoccasion; and, on his way to the hunting-lodge, he could not refrainfrom speaking aloud the statement which he resolved to make to thejudge.
Upon his arrival, he found Albert had been before him: and he wasa little perplexed by this meeting; but he soon recovered himself,and expressed his opinion with much warmth to the judge. Thelatter shook, his head doubtingly; and although Werther urged hiscase with the utmost zeal, feeling, and determination in defenceof his client, yet, as we may easily suppose, the judge was notmuch influenced by his appeal. On the contrary, he interruptedhim in his address, reasoned with him seriously, and even administereda rebuke to him for becoming the advocate of a murderer. Hedemonstrated, that, according to this precedent, every law mightbe violated, and the public security utterly destroyed. He added,moreover, that in such a case he could himself do nothing,without incurring the greatest responsibility; that everythingmust follow in the usual course, and pursue the ordinary channel.
Werther, however, did not abandon his enterprise, and even besoughtthe judge to connive at the flight of the prisoner. But thisproposal was peremptorily rejected. Albert, who had taken somepart in the discussion, coincided in opinion with the judge. Atthis Werther became enraged, and took his leave in great anger,after the judge had more than once assured him that the prisonercould not be saved.
The excess of his grief at this assurance may be inferred from anote we have found amongst his papers, and which was doubtlesswritten upon this very occasion.
"You cannot be saved, unfortunate man! I see clearly that wecannot be saved!"
Werther was highly incensed at the observations which Albert hadmade to the judge in this matter of the prisoner. He thought hecould detect therein a little bitterness toward himself personally;and although, upon reflection, it could not escape his soundjudgment that their view of the matter was correct, he felt thegreatest possible reluctance to make such an admission.
A memorandum of Werther's upon this point, expressive of his generalfeelings toward Albert, has been found amongst his papers.
consider my attention toher as a silent rebuke to himself? I know.
"What is the use of my continually repeating that he is a good andestimable man? He is an inward torment to me, and I am incapableof being just toward him."
One fine evening in winter, when the weather seemed inclined tothaw, Charlotte and Albert were returning home together. Theformer looked from time to time about her, as if she missed Werther'scompany. Albert began to speak of him, and censured him for hisprejudices. He alluded to his unfortunate attachment, and wishedit were possible to discontinue his acquaintance. "I desire it onour own account," he added; "and I request you will compel him toalter his deportment toward you, and to visit you less frequently.The world is censorious, and I know that here and there we arespoken of." Charlotte made no reply, and Albert seemed to feelher silence. At least, from that time he never again spoke ofWerther; and, when she introduced the subject, he allowed theconversation to die away, or else he directed the discourse intoanother channel.
The vain attempt Werther had made to save the unhappy murderer wasthe last feeble glimmering of a flame about to be extinguished.He sank almost immediately afterward into a state of gloom andinactivity, until he was at length brought to perfect distractionby learning that he was to be summoned as a witness against theprisoner, who asserted his complete innocence.
His mind now became oppressed by the recollection of every misfortuneof his past life. The mortification he had suffered at theambassador's, and his subsequent troubles, were revived in hismemory. He became utterly inactive. Destitute of energy, he wascut off from every pursuit and occupation which compose the businessof common life; and he became a victim to his own susceptibility,and to his restless passion for the most amiable and beloved ofwomen, whose peace he destroyed. In this unvarying monotony ofexistence his days were consumed; and his powers became exhaustedwithout aim or design, until they brought him to a sorrowful end.
A few letters which he left behind, and which we here subjoin,afford the best proofs of his anxiety of mind and of the depthof his passion, as well as of his doubts and struggles, and ofhis weariness of life.