“Come in, come in, signora! What is the matter this time?”
“Signore Zucchi has arrived from Rome with his divine signora,” said the old woman, appearing in the doorway, “they inquired at the post-office for your letters and papers, as they promised to do, and here is the mail Signora Angelica has brought you.”
Goethe hastily opened and examined the sealed package which she had handed him. “Newspapers! newspapers!” exclaimed he, throwing the folded papers on the table. “I am surrounded by living Nature, what care I for lifeless newspapers.”
“You will not read them?” said Moritz. “You have no desire to learn what is taking place in the German empire, to learn whether the emperor has undertaken another campaign against presumptuous Prussia or not?”
“No, I wish to know nothing of war,” said Goethe, softly. “I am a child of peace. I wish eternal peace to the whole world, now that I am at peace with myself.”[38]
“Then permit me, at least, to interest myself in these matters,” said Moritz, taking one of the papers from the table and opening it. With a cry of joy Goethe picked up the three letters that fell to the floor.
“Two letters for me! A letter from my Charlotte, and one from my dear friend, Herder! And here is a letter for you, friend Moritz.”
“A letter for me!” said Moritz, clutching and hastily opening the letter Goethe held in his extended hand. “Who can have written to me?”
“Read, my friend, and you will see. I will first read Herder’s letter, it probably contains his opinion of my ‘Egmont,’ which I sent him some time ago.”
He seated himself at the little table, opposite Moritz. Both were soon busily reading, and Goethe was so completely absorbed in his letter that he did not notice how pale Moritz had become, and how the letter trembled in his hands; nor did he hear the deep sighs that escaped his lips.