I would certainly close with the monologue by the Princess, for it is, in any case, left to the imagination as to what becomes of her.  It might perhaps be well, eventually, to have the Equerry introduced in the first piece.

The close of the whole with the address of the letter is, in reality, frightening, especially considering the tender state of one’s feelings at the moment.  It is doubtless an exceptional case to conclude with what is terrible after having exhausted all that was capable of rousing fear and pity.

I shall not add more, and can but say that I am delighted at the prospect of enjoying this work with you.  I hope still to be able to start on Thursday.  You shall know for certain on Wednesday; we will then read the play together, and I intend then to enjoy it in a thoroughly composed state of mind.

Farewell; take a rest now and let us both begin a new life during the vacation.  My kind greetings to your dear wife, and think of me.

I do not intend, just yet, to boast of the work extorted from the Muses; it is still a great question whether it is worth anything; in any case, however, it may be regarded as preparatory.

* * * * *

SCHILLER to GOETHE

Jena, March 19, 1799.

I have for long dreaded the moment when I should be rid of my work, much as I wished for the time to come; and, in fact, I do feel my present freedom to be worse than the state of bondage I have hitherto been in.  The mass which has formerly drawn and held me to it has now gone, and I feel as if I were hanging indefinitely in empty space.  At the same time I feel also as if it were absolutely impossible for me ever to produce anything again; I shall not be at rest till I once more have my thoughts turned to some definite subject, with hope and inclination in view.  When I again have some definite object before me, I shall be rid of the feeling of restlessness which at present is also drawing me off from smaller things I have in hand.  When you come I mean to lay before you some tragic materials of my own invention, in order that I may not, in the first instance, make a mistake as regards subject.  Inclination and necessity draw me toward subjects of pure fancy, not to historical ones, and toward such in which the interest is of a purely sentimental and human character; for of soldiers, heroes, and commanders, I am now heartily tired.

How I envy you your present activity—­your latest!  You are standing on the purest and sublimest poetic ground, in the most beautiful world of definite figures where everything is ready-made or can be re-made.  You are, so to say, living in the home of poetry and being waited upon by the gods.  During these last days I have again been looking into Homer, and there have read of the visit of Thetis to Vulcan with immense pleasure.  There is, in the graceful description of a domestic visit such as we might receive any day, and in an account of any kind of handicraft, an infinity of material and form, and the Naive shows the full nature of the Divine.