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LETTER LXIX.

November 20. /CHARLOTTE does not know, ^*^ does not feel, that she is preparing for me a poison which will destroy us both-, and this deadly poison which she presents to me I swallow it in large draughts. What mean those looks of kindness which she sometimes bestows upon me, that complacency with which she hears the sentiments that sometimes escape me, and the tender pity which appears in her countenance? Yesterday when I took leave of her, she held out her hand to me, and said, G 3 "Adieu, "Adieu, my dear Werter."—Bear Werter.— It was the first time she ever called me dear} the sound sunk deep into my heart: I have repeated it a hundred times since; and when I went to bed, I said, "Good night, my dear Werter."—-!. recollected myself, and laughed.

LETTER LXX.

November 24. . /CHARLOTTE is sensible of my *£"" sufferings. I found her alone, and was silent: she looked stedfastly at me.; the fire of genius, the charms of beauty were fled. But I saw in

. her

her countenance an expression much more touching ;—the expression of soft pity, and the tenderest concern.—Why was I withheld from throwing myself at her feet? Why did I not dare to take her in my arms, and answer her by a thousand kifies ?—She had recourse to her harpsicord, and in a low and sweet voice accompanied it with melodious sounds. Her lips never appeared so lovely; they seemed but just to open to receive the notes of the instrument, and return half the vibration.—But who could express such sensations! I was soon over.; come, and bending down, .1 proG 4. nounccd

nounced this vow -, " Beautiful lips, which celestial spirits guard, never will I seek to profane you." And yet I wish—Oh! my friend, 'tis like drawing a curtain before my heart—only to taste this felicity, and die and expiate my crimes.—My crimes!

LETTER LXXI.

November 30. T T is all over; I see it, my fate is

■*■ decided. Every thing encreases

my woes; every thing points out my

destiny. To-day again—

I went to walk by the river-side,

about about dinner-time, for I could not eat. The country was gloomy and deserted; a cold and damp easterly wind blew from the mountains, and black heavy clouds spread over the plain. I perceived a man at a distance in an old great coat; he was wandering amongst the rocks, and seemed to be looking for plants. When I came up to him, he turned about, and I saw an interesting countenance with all the marks of a settled melancholy; his fine black hair was flowing on his shoulders. "What are you looking for,friend?" said I. He answered, with a deep sigh, " I am looking for flowers,

and

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