In the meantime Goethe had walked down into the garden, still accompanied by the two ladies, with whom he was engaged in an animated conversation. But when he saw Schiller approaching, Goethe hastened forward to meet him.
“Madame von Kalb has reproached me for having withdrawn so abruptly when we met in the park a few days since,” said Goethe, in kindly tones. “I admit that I was wrong, but, at the same time, I must confess that it did not seem appropriate to me that we should make each other’s acquaintance under such circumstances—as it were by the merest chance.”
“And yet it is chance again that enables me to greet the poet Goethe, to-day,” replied Schiller, quickly.
“But this time it has been brought about by fair hands,” cried Goethe, bowing gracefully to the ladies, “and, with the ancients, I exclaim: ‘What the great gods vouchsafe can only be good and beautiful!’”
But, as though he had conceded enough to his friends’ wishes, and shown Schiller sufficient consideration, Goethe now turned again to the ladies, and resumed the conversation in which he had been engaged on entering the garden. They had been questioning him about Madame Angelica Kaufmann, the painter, and Goethe was telling them of her life, her genius, and her nobility of mind, with great animation and in terms of warm approval. Afterward, when the company were assembled around the table at dinner in the garden pavilion, Goethe, at Charlotte von Stein’s request, told them of his travels, of the Eternal City, and of that charming life in Italy which he considered the only one worthy of an artist, or of any really intellectual man. Carried away with enthusiasm, his countenance shone with manly beauty, originating rather from his inward exaltation than from any outward perfection of form and feature.
The ladies were fascinated by this handsome countenance, these lustrous eyes, and the eloquent lips which described sunny Italy, the land of promise, of art and poetry, in such glowing colors.
Schiller sat there in silence, listless, his eyes cast down, rarely adding a low word of approval to the enthusiastic applause of the ladies, and never addressing a question or remark to Goethe; nor did the latter ever address himself directly to Schiller, but spoke to all with the air of a great orator who feels assured that all are listening to his words with deference and admiration.
“I am not satisfied with our success to-day,” sighed Madame von Kalb, while returning with Schiller to Weimar in the evening. “I had promised myself such glorious results from this meeting with Goethe. I hoped that you would become friends, learning to love each other, but now you seem to have passed like two stars that chance to meet on their heavenly course, yet journey on without attracting each other. Tell me, at least, my dear friend, how you were pleased with Goethe.”