“Oh, dear Caroline, she has confessed; you were certainly right! She loves me, she is mine. And so are you, Caroline, you are also mine, and we three will belong to each other for evermore!”
“Yes, for evermore, my friend, my brother!” She gently entwined her arms around Schiller’s and Lottie’s neck; and now the three were joined in one close and loving embrace.
“I have at last entered the haven of happiness,” said Schiller, in deep emotion. “I have, at last, found my home, and eternal peace and repose are mine. I am encircled with your love as with a halo, ye beloved sisters; and now all the great expectations which you have entertained concerning me will be realized, for happiness will exalt me above myself. Charlotte, you shall never again have cause to tell me I look gloomy, for your love will shed a flood of sunshine on my existence hereafter. You shall teach me to laugh and be merry. O God, I thank Thee for permitting me to find this happiness! I, too, was born in Arcadia!”
They held each other in a close embrace, they wept for joy, and their souls, beaming eyes, and smiling lips, exchanged mute vows of eternal love and fidelity.
These were blissful days for Schiller. Madame von Lengefeld had given her consent to the marriage of her daughter Lottie with Schiller, sooner than the lovers expected. Charles August gave the poet the title of privy-councillor, and attached a salary of two hundred dollars to his professorship, as a marriage present. The title delighted Madame von Lengefeld, and somewhat reconciled her aristocratic heart to the thought that her daughter, who had been on the point of becoming a maid of honor, should now marry a man of the people. Schiller deemed his salary of two hundred dollars quite a small fortune, and hoped that this, together with the fruits of his poetic labors, would be sufficient to provide a comfortable home for his darling, and—“space in the smallest cottage for a happy and loving pair!”
They were a “happy, loving pair;” and the serene heaven of their happiness was undimmed by the smallest cloud. Had a cloud appeared, Charlotte’s quick eye would have detected and dissipated it before the lovers were aware of its existence. The sister watched over their happiness like their good genius, like a faithful sentinel.
At times, while gazing dreamily into his Lottie’s soft eyes, Schiller would smile and then ask her if she really loved him, as though such happiness were incredible.
In reply, Charlotte would smile and protest that she had loved him for a long time, and that her sister, who had known her secret, could confirm her statement.
“And she it was who told me this sweet secret. Yes, Caroline was the beneficent angel who infused courage into my timid heart.”