Читать книгу The Short Stories - Frederick Schiller - Страница 7

Attending theatres and reading novels reveal to us the most glowing traits of the human heart; while our fantasy will be inflamed, our heart remains cold, and at least, the passion in which our heart will be thrown into in this manner, will be only temporary and leaves it still fit for the practical life.

In the namely moment when the simple generosity of sincere outburst moves us almost to tears, would we also be capable to dismiss impatiently a beggar knocking at our door? Who knows, maybe, precisely this artificial existence in an ideal world, will also shake up our true existence in the real world? We hover, so to speak, above the two extremes of morality, the angel and the demon, and only in the middle, the human being, we allow ourselves to land.

The following story about two Germans (I write this down with quite some proud joy!) has an indisputable merit, as it is a true story. I hope that this story will leave my readers with warmer feelings than all the books written by Grandison and Pamela.

Two brothers, Barons of Wrmb, both fell in love with the same young, perfect lady of Wrthr; without the lady knowing about the passion which the two brothers had for her. The love felt by both brothers was tender and strong, because it was the first time for both. The young lady was beautiful and sensitive. Both allowed their inclination to grow into a full passion, because none knew about the danger which was most terrible for a heart: to have one’s own brother as a rival. Both spared the young lady with an early confession of their love, and hence, the two brothers went on, until an expected event revealed the whole secret of their sentiments to one another.

Each brother’s passion has already grown into its highest degree, the unhappiest affection which has produced so many cruel devastations in humankind than its terrible contrary, has already taken over their whole heart that a sacrifice was really not to be expected from any of them. The young lady, full of compassion for the sad situation of these two unfortunate persons, dared not to decide exclusively for one brother, and submitted her inclination to the judgement of their brotherly love.

To decide about the winner in this doubtful battle of duty and sentiment, which our philosophers in all times have skilfully solved, and which the practical man undertakes so slowly; the older brother said to the younger one:

"I know that you love my sweetheart, as passionately as I do. I will not make prevail the seniority right. Hence, you should remain here, I will travel the great world, I will strive to forget her. Should I achieve to do that, then the young lady is yours, and may heaven bless your love! Should I not achieve to forget her, then you should be the one travelling, and try to forget her!”

He left immediately Germany, and headed towards Holland, but the image of his sweetheart travelled with him. Away from the object of his love, banned from a territory where lies the whole felicity of his heart, where alone he wanted to live; the unfortunate brother fell sick, the same way as the plants which the brutal Europeans took away from their motherly land of Asia and grew in the rawer soil, die, away from the milder sun. He reached Amsterdam in despair; there, a violent fever put his life in danger. The image of his unique love prevailed in his silly dreams, his recovery depended upon possessing her. The doctors worried for his life, only the assurance of receiving again her love took him arduously away from the arms of death. Like a wandering skeleton, offering the most terrifying image of sorrow, he finally arrived in his city of birth; tumbled before his sweetheart and his brother.

"Brother, here I am again. Whatever I pretended to obtain from my heart, God only knows,... I cannot any more bear!”

Powerlessly, he fell into the arms of the young lady. The younger brother was not lesser resolved. A few weeks later, he was also ready to travel.

"Brother! You have carried your sorrow as far as Holland. Now, it’s my turn to carry it. Do not bring her to the altar until I will write to you! Only brotherly love allows me to make the following condition. If I am happier than you, then in God’s name, may she be yours, and may Heaven bless your love! Should I not be happier than you; then, only Heaven may decide further about our case! Live well. Take this little sealed package, do not open it until I am away from you. I am also travelling to Batavia.”

At this precise moment, he jumped into his carriage and left.

Rather stunned, people looked staringly at him. He has matched his older brother in terms of noble courage. Love would, now, storm over the two remaining lovers, but at the same time, also the pain of having lost the noblest of all men. The sound of the departing carriage thundered still in the older brother's heart for a long time. People were worried for his life, but not for the young lady's. The end of the story will tell about it.

Then, the package left by the younger brother would be opened. It was a complete description of all his possessions which the older brother should inherit, should the fugitive become successful in Batavia. The younger brother who achieved a victory over himself, sailed with some Dutch trading seamen, and arrived without any harm to Batavia. After a few weeks, he sent to his brother the following lines:

“Here in Batavia, where I thank God the Almighty; here, in my new country, I think about you and our love with all the delights of a martyr. The new landscapes and destinies have enlarged my soul; God has given me strength to make the highest sacrifice in the name of brotherhood, she is yours... God! A tear is falling as I am writing these lines, but it is the last one, for I have achieved a victory over myself.

The young lady is yours. Brother, I should have never possessed her in the first place, she has never been happy with me! Just in case you wonder if she has ever been happy with me. Brother! Brother! I tender her to your soul. Never forget all the things she had to endure to conquer you.

Treat the angel, ever, as your young love treats her now! Treat her as a precious legacy from your brother whom your arms can never more embrace. Live well!

Do not write to me, when you will celebrate your wedding. My wounds are still open. Only write to me how happy you are. My deed is my guarantee that God will not abandon me in a foreign land!”

The marriage would be celebrated. A year went by, the happiest for the married couple. Then, the wife died. Only on her deathbed, she would confess to her most trusted person the saddest secret of her heart: she has loved the fugitive brother more dearly.

Both brothers are still alive. The older one lives on his lands in Germany, where he remarried. The younger one remained in Batavia, and prospered into a happy, radiant man. He made a vow, never to marry, and kept this promise.