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144.

[303] Ich kann nicht umhin, hier einen Brief einzufügen, den eine junge Deutsche in schlechtem Englisch geschrieben hat. Er beweist, daß es ausharrende Liebe gibt und daß nicht alle genialen Männer wie Mirabeau sind. Der berühmte Dichter Klopstock galt in Hamburg für einen liebenswürdigen Mann. Folgendes schrieb seine junge Frau an eine vertraute Freundin:

»After having seen him two hours, I was obliged to pass the evening in a company, which never had been so wearisome to me. I could not speak, I could not play; I thought I saw nothing but Klopstock; I saw him the next day, and the following and we were very seriously friends. But the fourth day he departed. It was a strong hour, the hour of his departure! He wrote soon after and from the time our correspondence began to be a very diligent one. I sincerely believed[303] my love to be friendship. I spoke with my friends of nothing but Klopstock, and showed his letters. They raillied at me and said I was in love. I raillied then again, and said that that they must have a very friendshipless heart, if they had no idea of friendship to a man as well as to a woman. Thus it continued eight months, in which time my friends found as much love in Klopstock's letters as in me. I perceived it likewise, but I would not believe it. At the last Klopstock said plainly that he loved; and I startled as for a wrong thing; I answered that it was no love, but friendship, as it was what I felt for him; we had not seen one another enough to love (as if love must have more time than friendship). This was sincerely my meaning, and I had this meaning till Klopstock came again to Hamburg. This he did a year after we had seen one another at the first time. We saw, we were friends, we loved; and a short time after, I could even tell Klopstock that I loved. But we were obliged to part again, and wait two years for our wedding. My mother would not let marry me a stranger. I could marry then without her consent, as by the death of my father my fortune depended not on her; but this was a horrible idea for me; and thank heaven that I have prevailed by prayers! At this time knowing Klopstock, she loves him as her lifely son, and thanks god that she has not persisted. We married and I am the happiest wife in the world. In some few months I will be four years that I am so happy ...«

(Correspondence of Richardson, III, 147)