These arms have encircled her waist，
  these lips have trembled upon hers. She is mine ！ Yes， Charlotte， you
  are mine for ever ！
  "And what do they mean by saying Albert is your husband ？ He may
  be so for this world； and in this world it is a sin to love you， to
  wish to tear you from his embrace. Yes， it is a crime； and I suffer
  the punishment， but I have enjoyed the full delight of my sin. I have
  inhaled a balm that has revived my soul. From this hour you are mine；
  yes ， Charlotte， you are mine ！ I go before you. I go to my Father
  and to your Father. I will pour out my sorrows before him ， and he will
  give me comfort till you arrive. Then will I fly to meet you. I will claim
  you ， and remain your eternal embrace， in the presence of the Almighty.
  "I do not dream ， I do not rave. Drawing nearer to the grave my perceptions
  become clearer. We shall exist； we shall see each other again； we shall
  behold your mother； I shall behold her ， and expose to her my inmost
  heart. Your mother—— your image ！"
  About eleven o'clock Werther asked his servant if Albert had returned.
  He answered ， "Yes ；" for he had seen him pass on horseback ： upon
  which Werther sent him the following note ， unsealed ：
  "Be so good as to lend me your pistols for a journey. Adieu."
  Charlotte had slept little during the past night. All her apprehensions
  were realised in a way that she could neither foresee nor avoid. Her blood
  was boiling in her veins， and a thousand painful sensations rent her
  pure heart. Was it the ardour of Werther's passionate embraces that she
  felt within her bosom ？ Was it anger at his daring ？ Was it the sad
  comparison of her present condition with former days of innocence ， tranquillity，
  and self-confidence ？ How could she approach her husband ， and confess
  a scene which she had no reason to conceal， and which she yet felt ，
  nevertheless， unwilling to avow？ They had preserved so long a silence
  toward each other and should she be the first to break it by so unexpected
  a discovery ？ She feared that the mere statement of Werther's visit would
  trouble him ， and his distress would be heightened by her perfect candour.
  She wished that he could see her in her true light， and judge her without
  prejudice ； but was she anxious that he should read her inmost soul？
  On the other hand ， could she deceive a being to whom all her thoughts
  had ever been exposed as clearly as crystal ， and from whom no sentiment
  had ever been concealed ？ These reflections made her anxious and thoughtful.
  Her mind still dwelt on Werther ， who was now lost to her， but whom
  she could not bring herself to resign ， and for whom she knew nothing
  was left but despair if she should be lost to him for ever.
  A recollection of that mysterious estrangement which had lately subsisted
  between herself and Albert， and which she could never thoroughly understand，
  was now beyond measure painful to her. Even the prudent and the good have
  before now hesitated to explain their mutual differences， and have dwelt
  in silence upon their imaginary grievances， until circumstances have
  become so entangled ， that in that critical juncture ， when a calm explanation
  would have saved all parties， an understanding was impossible. And thus
  if domestic confidence had been earlier established between them， if
  love and kind forbearance had mutually animated and expanded their hearts，
  it might not， perhaps， even yet have been too late to save our friend.
  But we must not forget one remarkable circumstance. We may observe
  from the character of Werther's correspondence， that he had never affected
  to conceal his anxious desire to quit this world. He had often discussed
  the subject with Albert ； and， between the latter and Charlotte ， it
  had not unfrequently formed a topic of conversation. Albert was so opposed
  to the very idea of such an action， that ， with a degree of irritation
  unusual in him， he had more than once given Werther to understand that
  he doubted the seriousness of his threats ， and not only turned them
  into ridicule ， but caused Charlotte to share his feelings of incredulity.
  Her heart was thus tranquillised when she felt disposed to view the melancholy
  subject in a serious point of view， though she never communicated to
  her husband the apprehensions she sometimes experienced.
  Albert， upon his return， was received by Charlotte with ill-concealed
  embarrassment. He was himself out of humour ； his business was unfinished
  ； and he had just discovered that the neighbouring official with whom
  he had to deal， was an obstinate and narrow-minded personage. Many things
  had occurred to irritate him.
  He inquired whether anything had happened during his absence， and
  Charlotte hastily answered that Werther had been there on the evening
  previously. He then inquired for his letters， and was answered that several
  packages had been left in his study. He thereon retired ， leaving Charlotte
  alone.
  The presence of the being she loved and honoured produced a new impression
  on her heart. The recollection of his generosity， kindness ， and affection
  had calmed her agitation： a secret impulse prompted her to follow him
  ； she took her work and went to his study， as was often her custom.
  He was busily employed opening and reading his letters. It seemed as if
  the contents of some were disagreeable. She asked some questions： he
  gave short answers， and sat down to write.
  Several hours passed in this manner ， and Charlotte's feelings became
  more and more melancholy. She felt the extreme difficulty of explaining
  to her husband， under any circumstances， the weight that lay upon her
  heart ； and her depression became every moment greater ， in proportion
  as she endeavoured to hide her grief， and to conceal her tears.
  The arrival of Werther's servant occasioned her the greatest embarrassment.
  He gave Albert a note ， which the latter coldly handed to his wife ，
  saying， at the same time ， "Give him the pistols. I wish him a pleasant
  journey ，" he added， turning to the servant. These words fell upon Charlotte
  like a thunderstroke： she rose from her seat half-fainting ， and unconscious
  of what she did. She walked mechanically toward the wall， took down the
  pistols with a trembling hand ， slowly wiped the dust from them， and
  would have delayed longer ， had not Albert hastened her movements by
  an impatient look. She then delivered the fatal weapons to the servant，
  without being able to utter a word. As soon as he had departed， she folded
  up her work ， and retired at once to her room， her heart overcome with
  the most fearful forebodings. She anticipated some dreadful calamity.
  She was at one moment on the point of going to her husband， throwing
  herself at his feet ， and acquainting him with all that had happened
  on the previous evening ， that she might acknowledge her fault ， and
  explain her apprehensions ； then she saw that such a step would be useless，
  as she would certainly be unable to induce Albert to visit Werther. Dinner
  was served； and a kind friend whom she had persuaded to remain assisted
  to sustain the conversation ， which was carried on by a sort of compulsion，
  till the events of the morning were forgotten.
  When the servant brought the pistols to Werther ， the latter received
  them with transports of delight upon hearing that Charlotte had given
  them to him with her own hand. He ate some bread， drank some wine， sent
  his servant to dinner ， and then sat down to write as follows：
  "They have been in your hands you wiped the dust from them. I kiss
  them a thousand times —— you have touched them. Yes ， Heaven favours
  my design ， and you， Charlotte， provide me with the fatal instruments.
  It was my desire to receive my death from your hands， and my wish is
  gratified. I have made inquiries of my servant. You trembled when you
  gave him the pistols， but you bade me no adieu. Wretched ， wretched
  that I am —— not one farewell ！