Several guests were expected besides himself, though he was the first to arrive: they were to have a dance and a supper, and in the interval were to entertain themselves, after the approved city fashion, with conversation alone. Rural games and the myriad resources of country life were of course quite out of the question, and Rahel for one knew not how to fill up the gaps. The poor girl looked almost as she said she felt, "like a maid-servant," with her short petticoat and her high, tight waist, and by her awkward self-consciousness she rendered the disparity between herself and her cousins still more conspicuous. As she gave her hand to Goethe, she muttered, in an almost audible whisper, "It is like a breath from the country to see your face here. Did I not tell you I would never feel at home in Strasburg?"
When the visitors arrived, he had an opportunity to contrast the appearance and behavior of the Duroc family with those of the society which formed his own circle. The dignified and calmly noble demeanor of the mother was perfectly adapted to the situation; she was in no wise different from the other ladies. But Rahel was painfully ill at ease, fancying that the eyes of the whole company were riveted upon her. When she was spoken to, she either answered in monosyllables, or plunged into random assertions on subjects of which she was totally ignorant. She seemed to look to Goethe for support and assistance, and frequently succeeded in embarrassing him also by her unconventional familiarity, and her untimely allusions to incidents and jests that were not understood outside of the Duroc parsonage. As she had formerly called to him in the gardens or beckoned him aside in the fields if she had anything particular to say to him, she did also the same here, when she drew him into the recess of a window. She had the most unimportant things to say to him,—nothing but what he knew already, that she wished herself by the Rhine, over the Rhine, or even in Turkey. He did his best to appease her, but without success.
Alide, on the contrary, was highly remarkable in this position. Properly speaking, she also did not suit it; but it bore witness to her character that, instead of finding herself adapted to this condition, she unconsciously moulded the condition according to herself. She acted here as she had acted with the society in the country: she knew how to animate every moment, and, without creating any disturbance, she put all in motion. She spoke of the wardrobe, the ornaments, the personal graces of her cousins, without affectation, and considered and admired them without envy; yet all the time she seemed perfectly content with her individual customs and appearance. Goethe she treated the same as ever: she seemed to give him no preference, but that of communicating her desires and wishes to him rather than to another, and thus recognizing him as her servant.
He had received permission from Frau Duroc to come early the next morning to drive with herself and her daughters through the town and take them over the Cathedral. A soft, clear sky and balmy air made a paradise of the quaint old narrow streets, through which they rambled at will, while Goethe's inexhaustible information and eloquence illustrated every object of interest that they visited. He explained to them the very curious effect given to the city just at this period by the half-executed plans to beautify it. If a crooked side of a street was to be straightened, one man would move forward to the appointed line, while his neighbors remained in their old positions; and thus the oddest projections and recesses were left. Rahel's awakened curiosity, gratified at every turn, and yet continually and artfully excited by Goethe with the promise of some fresh wonder, made her in some degree forget the mortifications of the previous evening and her desire to be once more at home. However, even here her restlessness was apparent, and he was forced to exert his utmost ingenuity to amuse and entertain her.
Alide was quiet and subdued; she looked with wondering eyes at these unfamiliar scenes, and tried to realize the various lives and interests that encompassed her. By his side she was happy; in looking on his beloved and beautiful face, all other thoughts and emotions were absorbed in a flood of joy. But, as the hours slipped by, a sense of unrest and vague trouble gained upon her. When he spoke, though she was inspired and excited by his enthusiasms, she did not share them, often she could scarcely understand them. Her nature did not expand, like his, to embrace these various activities; it rather shrank within itself, suffocated for want of stimulus amidst this seething world of life, as the fish gasps for air in the midst of the rare element itself. She felt cramped, choked, belittled, in these noisy thoroughfares, these crowded lanes, beneath these towering edifices.
They alighted at the Cathedral, and entered the solemn sanctuary. The sudden transition from the brightness of the noonday streets to this tender twilight, the vast space of the inclosure, the exquisite beauty of the slender reed-like pillars supporting the lofty vault above, the awe-inspiring associations connected with the venerable Minster, caused a deep religious adoration to take entire possession of the simple girl's breast. She bowed her head and murmured to herself a child-like prayer. He divined her emotions, though she could not guess his own, and he refrained from interrupting her silent communion. Rahel was chattering to the sacristan, who led her and Madame Duroc away from the others, down the long aisle.
"Alide," said Goethe, in a low voice, as she raised her eyes towards him, "I love you dearly when I see you thus, and yet you are not mine at such a time: you seem rapt away from me in some beautiful vision where I cannot follow. The gates of heaven are open for an instant, and then all is dark to me, until you return to earth, bringing upon your brow a reflection of the very glory of Paradise."
"Ah, Wolfgang!" she murmured, passionately, clasping her hands with the gesture that was habitual to her when deeply moved, "why is all dark to you? Why cannot you, who are so wise and so good, follow me into this celestial world, where simplicity and faith are all that are required to open wide the gates? Why shall not we twain, so closely united by sympathy and love, draw from the same sublime source our courage and our consolation? This is a subject that I have never before dared to mention, and yet now I am bold to speak. What more fitting time, what more sacred place, could we find than now and here to fall upon our knees together and unite in adoration of that blessed Lamb of God who died on Calvary for man?"
A hot flush mantled Goethe's face, and an expression of weariness almost amounting to pain clouded his brow, as he listened to Alide's enthusiasm. When she ceased, he took her clasped hands in both his own, and answered, very gently, "My dear little girl, you must not ask me to do this, you must not speak to me again in this way, for it can only give pain to both, showing between us a gulf that cannot be bridged. I love you; that must be enough. Upon these questions I have thought much, I have suffered much, I have undergone much that you can never understand; but now I am at peace. Do not be distressed for my sake; in the eyes of the beneficent Disposer of events our souls are at one."
She answered him with a bewildered, frightened glance. The solemn emphasis with which he had spoken forbade her continuing her impassioned appeal. Her eyes filled with tears. "A gulf between us!" she repeated, slowly. "Ah! that was my terror, and it has come. What will it grow to be when we are man and wife?"