bitter mood, continued: "You are right, perfectly right. Even speech is
denied me. So life may run on like a leaden stream, and everything that
grows and blossoms on its banks remain scentless and grey. The golden
sunshine has hidden itself behind a mist, joy lies fainting in my heart,
and all that once pleased me has grown stale and charmless. Do you
recognize the happy youth of former days?"

"Seek cheerfulness again, seek it for my sake."

"Gone, gone," he murmured sadly. "You saw me in Delft, but you did not
know me thoroughly. These eyes were like two mirrors of fortune in which
every object was charmingly transfigured, and they were rewarded; for
wherever they looked they met only friendly glances. This heart then
embraced the whole world, and beat so quickly and joyously! I often did
not know what to do with myself from sheer mirth and vivacity, and it
seemed as if I must burst into a thousand pieces like an over-loaded
firelock, only instead of scattering far and wide, mount straight up to
Heaven. Those days were so happy, and yet so sad--I felt it ten times
as much in Delft, when you were kind to me. And now, now? I still have
wings, I still might fly, but here I creep like a snail--because it is
your will."

"It is not my wish," replied Maria. "You are dear to me, that I may be
permitted to confess--and to see you thus fills me with grief. But now--
if I am dear to you, and I know you care for me--cease to torture me so
cruelly. You are dear to me. I have said it, and it must be spoken,
that everything may be clearly understood between us. You are dear to
me, like the beautiful by-gone days of my youth, like pleasant dreams,
like a noble song, in which we take delight, and which refreshes our
souls, whenever we hear or remember it--but more you are not, more you