of Werther by Suicide:
I wish, Charlotte, to be buried in the dress I wear
at present: it has been rendered sacred by your touch. I have begged
this favour of your father. My spirit soars above my sepulchre. I do
not wish my pockets to be searched. The knot of pink ribbon which
you wore on your bosom the first time I saw you, surrounded by the
children — Oh, kiss them a thousand times for me, and tell them the
fate of their unhappy friend! I think I see them playing around me.
The dear children! How warmly have I been attached to you,
Charlotte! Since the first hour I saw you, how impossible have I
found it to leave you. This ribbon must be buried with me: it was a
present from you on my birthday. How confused it all appears! Little
did I then think that I should journey this road. But peace! I pray
"They are loaded — the clock strikes twelve. I say
amen. Charlotte, Charlotte! Farewell, farewell!"
A neighbor saw the flash, and heard the report of
the pistol; but, as everything remained quiet, he thought no more of
In the morning, at six o’clock, the servant went
into Werther’s room with a candle. He found his master stretched
upon the floor, weltering in his blood, and the pistols at his side.
He called; he took him in his arms, but received no answer. Life was
not yet quite extinct. The servant ran for a surgeon, and then went
to fetch Albert. Charlotte heard the ringing of the bell: a cold
shudder seized her. She wakened her husband, and they both rose. The
servant, bathed in tears faltered forth the dreadful news. Charlotte
fell senseless at Albert’s feet.
When the surgeon came to the unfortunate Werther, he
was still lying on the floor, and his pulse beat, but his limbs were
cold. The bullet, entering the forehead, over the right eye, had
penetrated the skull. A vein was opened in his right arm: the blood
came, and he still continued to breathe.
From the blood which flowed from the chair, it could
be inferred that he had committed the rash act sitting at his
bureau, and that he afterward fell upon the floor. He was found
lying on his back near the window. He was in full-dress costume.
The house, the neighborhood, and the whole town were
immediately in commotion. Albert arrived. They had laid Werther on
the bed: his head was bound up, and the paleness of death was upon
his face. His limbs were motionless; but he still breathed, at one
time strongly, then weaker — his death was momently expected.
He had drunk only one glass of wine. "Emilia Galotti"
lay open upon his bureau.
I shall say nothing of Albert’s distress, or of
The old steward hastened to the house immediately
upon hearing the news: he embraced his dying friend amid a flood of
tears. His eldest boys soon followed him on foot. In speechless
sorrow they threw themselves on their knees by the bedside, and
kissed his hands and feet. The eldest, who was his favourite, hung
over him till he expired; and even then he was removed by force. At
twelve o’clock Werther breathed his last. The presence of the
steward, and the precautions he had adopted, prevented a
disturbance; and that night, at the hour of eleven, he caused the
body to be interred in the place which Werther had selected for
The steward and his sons followed the corpse to the grave. The
body was carried by labourers. No priest attended.