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Authors: Johann Wolfgang von Goethe

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‘I must defend him,’ the Baroness interposed. ‘Charlotte was not entirely free from blame, not entirely innocent of looking elsewhere. And even though she was in love with Eduard and had secretly determined to make him her husband, yet I was myself a witness to how much she sometimes tormented him, so that it was not hard to persuade him to his unhappy decision to travel and get away and get used to being without her.’

Eduard nodded to the Baroness and seemed grateful she was speaking up for him.

‘But I have to say one thing on Charlotte’s side,’ she went on. ‘The man who was courting her at that time had long demonstrated his affection for her, and when you got to
know him better was certainly a nicer person than you others are willing to admit.’

‘Well, my dear,’ said the Count rather briskly, ‘let us also admit that you were not totally indifferent to him, and that Charlotte had more to fear from you than from anyone else. It is a very attractive trait in women that once they have become attached to a man they retain that attachment for so long and do not allow any sort of separation from him to disturb or destroy it.’

‘Perhaps men possess this fine quality to an even greater degree,’ the Baroness replied. ‘In any event, I have noticed in your case, dear Count, that no one has more power over you than a woman for whom you once felt an affection. I have seen you go to more trouble to accommodate such a woman than your friend of the moment could perhaps have persuaded you to do.’

‘If that is a reproach it is one that can be borne lightly,’ the Count replied. ‘So far as Charlotte’s first husband is concerned, the reason I did not like him was that he broke up that handsome couple, a couple truly predestined for each other who, once united, had no need to fear a five-year period or think about a second marriage, not to speak of a third.’

‘We shall try to make up in the future for what we have neglected in the past,’ said Charlotte.

‘You must hold to that,’ said the Count, ‘because your first marriages,’ he went on with some vehemence, ‘were so completely marriages of the rotten sort, and unfortunately marriages in general have about them something – excuse the expression – doltish: they ruin the tenderest relationships and the only real reason they exist is so that at any rate one of the parties may pride himself on a crude sense of security. Everything is taken for granted and the people involved seem to have got married only so that they may thereafter go their own way.’

At this moment Charlotte, who was now determined to change the subject once and for all, broke in with a bold expression which had the desired effect. Conversation became more general, both couples and the Captain could now take part in it, even Ottilie was given occasion to speak, and the dessert was enjoyed in the best of moods, in the production of which the wealth of fruit in decorated baskets and the abundance of flowers in display vases made the principal contribution.

The new park also came in for discussion. After the meal they went to see it. Ottilie stayed behind, saying she had things to do in the house. What she really did was go and get on with her copying. The Count was entertained by the Captain; later Charlotte joined him. When they had reached the top of the hill and the Captain had obligingly hurried back to fetch the map, the Count said to Charlotte: ‘I am extraordinarily impressed by that man. He is very well informed, in details and in the thing as a whole. He works very seriously and his work is very logically thought out. What he is doing here would, if performed in higher circles, be of great significance.’

This praise of the Captain gave Charlotte profound pleasure, which she concealed, calmly confirming what the Count had said. But she was overcome by surprise when the Count went on: ‘I have met him at a very opportune moment. I know of a position which would suit him perfectly, and if I recommend him for it I shall not only be doing him a favour but doing a very good service for a highly-placed friend of mine.’

Charlotte felt as if she had been struck by a thunderbolt. The Count noticed nothing: accustomed to restraint at all times, ladies retain even on the most exceptional occasions the appearance of composure. But she was no longer hearing what the Count was saying as he went on: ‘Once I have decided on something I do not delay. I have already put my
letter together in my head and I am anxious to get it written down. Will you arrange for a courier who can be sent off this very evening?’

Charlotte was torn in two inside. Surprised by the Count’s suggestions and surprised also by the way she was feeling, she was unable to utter a word. Fortunately the Count went on talking about his plans for the Captain and Charlotte could see only too clearly how advantageous they would be. The Captain came back up and unrolled his map for the Count to look at. But with what other eyes did she now look at him, now she was going to lose him! With a perfunctory bow she turned away and hurried down to the moss-hut. Before she was halfway there tears were starting up in her eyes. She threw herself into the little secluded house and gave herself over completely to a torment, a passion, a despair of whose possibility she had a few moments before not had the remotest presentiment.

On the other side of the hill Eduard had gone with the Baroness down to the lakes. This shrewd lady wanted to know about everything, and in the course of sounding him out she soon noticed that Eduard was very eloquent when it came to speaking of Ottilie and of how well she had done, and since she knew how to keep him talking in this vein without seeming to prompt him she was finally left in no doubt that here there was no growing passion but one already in full bloom.

Married women, even when they are not very fond of one another, maintain an unspoken alliance, especially against young girls. The consequences of such an attachment were all too quickly obvious to the Baroness’s worldly-wise mind. And she had already spoken to Charlotte about Ottilie that morning: she had not approved of Ottilie’s staying in the country, especially since she had such a quiet disposition already, and had suggested taking her to live with a friend in town who was devoting great care to the upbringing of her own
daughter and was only looking for a suitable companion who would became a second child to her and enjoy all the advantages such a status would afford. Charlotte had undertaken to think it over.

Now her insight into Eduard’s frame of mind turned this suggestion into a firm resolve. The more quickly this resolve hardened in the Baroness, the more eagerly did she appear to flatter Eduard’s desires. No one had better control of herself than this lady had, and self-possession in exceptional circumstances habituates us to dissimulation even in unexceptional circumstances. Because we exercise constraint over ourselves we are inclined to extend this constraint over other people too, so that we can so to speak compensate ourselves for what we lose inwardly with what we gain outwardly.

Usually joined to this attitude is a kind of secret malicious pleasure in the blindness of others, in the unconsciousness with which they walk into a trap. We rejoice not only in the present success but also in the coming humiliation. And so the Baroness was malicious enough to invite Eduard to come with Charlotte to the vintage harvest on her estate and, when he asked if he might bring Ottilie as well, to answer in a way he could if he felt inclined interpret favourably.

Eduard was already enthusing over the wonderful countryside, the great river, the hills, the cliffs and the vineyards, the ancient castles, boat trips on the river, the harvest and grape-pressing festivities, and so forth; and in the innocency of his heart saying how he was already looking forward to the impression such scenes would make on Ottilie’s unspoiled sensibilities – when Ottilie was seen approaching and the Baroness said quickly that Eduard was to say nothing about this prospective autumn trip because if you looked forward to something such a long time in advance it usually failed to come off. Eduard promised to say nothing but made her hasten more quickly towards Ottilie and finally hurried up to the
dear child several paces ahead of her. His whole being radiated pleasure. He kissed her hands and pressed into them a bunch of wild flowers he had picked on his walk. The spectacle irritated, nearly incensed the Baroness: though she could not approve of what might be culpable in this affection of Eduard’s, neither could she help envying this insignificant chit of a girl what was pleasant and desirable in it.

When they sat down for supper the mood of the company had changed altogether. The Count, who had already written his letter and sent it off by the courier, sat himself this evening beside the Captain and discreetly pumped him. The Baroness, sitting on the Count’s right, got little entertainment from that direction and just as little from Eduard who, at first thirsty and then, when his thirst had been quenched, excited, helped himself liberally to the wine and engaged in very animated conversation with Ottilie, whom he had drawn to his side of the table. Charlotte, at the other side of the table next to the Captain, found it hard, nearly impossible to conceal her inner agitation.

So the Baroness had plenty of leisure to observe the others. She noticed how ill at ease Charlotte was and because she was thinking only of Eduard’s relations with Ottilie she found no difficulty in convincing herself that Charlotte too suspected him and was vexed by her husband’s behaviour, and she revolved in her mind what would be the best thing to do now.

When supper was over the company divided. The Count wanted to get to know everything about the Captain, but the Captain was a quiet man, not in the least vain, and in general laconic, and the Count had to try every turn and trick he knew to get anything out of him at all. They paced together up and down one side of the room while Eduard, excited by wine and hopeful anticipation, chattered gaily with Ottilie over beside the window. But Charlotte and the Baroness walked in silence side by side back and forth on the
other side of the room. Their silence and idle loitering about eventually brought the party to a standstill. The women withdrew to their wing, the men withdrew to theirs, and so this day seemed to have come to an end.

CHAPTER ELEVEN

E
DUARD
accompanied the Count to his room and was happy to be induced to stay for a while and talk with him. The Count became lost in memories of earlier times. He reflected on the beauty of Charlotte, on which as a connoisseur he expatiated with much warmth: ‘A beautiful foot is a great gift of nature. This charm is indestructible. I watched her walking today. She still makes you want to kiss her shoe and do as the Sarmatians do, who know of nothing better than to drink the health of someone they love and respect out of her shoe – a rather barbarous way of doing honour but a deeply felt one.’

The tip of the foot was not the only object these two intimates found to admire. From discussing Charlotte they went on to discussing past adventures and recalled the obstacles that used to be placed in the way of these lovers’ meeting and what trouble they had taken and what artifices they had had to invent merely so as to be able to tell one another they loved one another.

‘Do you remember,’ the Count said, ‘an occasion when our lords and masters paid a visit to their uncle and they all met together in the great rambling mansion, and how I then stood by you in a certain adventure and how very helpful and unselfish I was? The day had been spent in solemnities and ceremonial dress, and we were, if you remember, determined that at any rate part of the night was going to be spent in unbuttoned ease among more congenial company.’

‘I remember you had made a note of the way to the quarters of the ladies-in-waiting,’ said Eduard, ‘and to my beloved we succeeded in finding our way.’

‘Who,’ said the Count, ‘thought more about the proprieties
than she did about my comfort and had kept with her a chaperone of an extreme ugliness, so that while you two were billing and cooing together I was having a very unpleasant time of it.’

‘It was only yesterday,’ Eduard said, ‘when we heard you were arriving, that I was talking with my wife about that escapade, and especially about what happened when we withdrew. We lost our way and came upon the guardroom. We now thought we could find our way out, having arrived here, and so we thought we could go straight past the guard as we had gone straight past all the others in the place. Do you remember our amazement when we opened the door? The floor was strewn with rows of mattresses and those giants were lying on them asleep. The only one awake in that guardroom looked at us in astonishment; but we, with the courage and wantonness of youth, strode quite calmly over the outstretched boots without waking even one of those snoring children of Enoch.’

‘I had a strong urge to make a noise,’ said the Count, ‘and we should have seen a very strange resurrection then!’

At that moment the great clock struck twelve.

‘It is full midnight,’ said the Count, smiling, ‘and the time is now ripe. I have to ask you a favour, my dear Baron: conduct me tonight as I conducted you that night we have been speaking of. I have promised the Baroness I would visit her again. We have not been alone together the whole day, we have not seen one another for so long, and nothing could be more natural than for us to want to spend an intimate hour together. Show me how to get there; I can find my own way back, and in any case there won’t be any boots lying around to stumble over.’

‘I shall be only too glad to do this favour for a guest,’ Eduard replied. ‘The only thing is, all three women are over in that wing: suppose we find them still together?’

‘No need to fear that,’ said the Count. ‘The Baroness is
expecting me. By this time she is certain to be in her room, and alone.’

‘There is no difficulty about it otherwise,’ Eduard replied. He took a lamp and lighted the Count down a secret stairway into a long corridor. At the end of it Eduard opened a little door. They went up a spiral staircase. At the top they arrived at a narrow landing and, giving the Count the lamp, Eduard pointed out to him a door to the right papered over so as to look like the wall. The door opened at the first attempt and admitted the Count and left Eduard standing in the dark.

BOOK: Elective Affinities
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