Blick in die Ferne Looking Away

?Pick off the mist-like veil

Hope is showing

cloud breaking sunrise sunny day

We both have to do what we want

——Goethe's "Four Seasons Morning and Twilight"

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Soon Schiller settled down in the town of Hull, not far from my home.

From time to time we discuss the theater schedule.In anticipation of the Weimar New Year, which is coming soon, we have decided to put on a new play.I asked Schiller if he could use his "Conspiracy and Love", and he agreed, but insisted on revising it himself before entering the rehearsal.

In the next ten days, I did not see Schiller.I was a little worried, so I went to visit him at his house one night.

I entered the house unannounced by the servant.I quietly walked behind him, and seeing his back lying at his desk under the lamp, I suddenly felt a tremor in my heart.I found that Schiller lost weight, and his already thin body became more and more slender.

"Schiller." I called him softly.

Schiller heard my voice and turned around hastily.He saw me with joy in his eyes.He was still in high spirits, but it was difficult to hide the tiredness in his eyes.

I feel a little heartbroken. Is this still the energetic Schiller?

"You're thin..." My voice was a little hoarse, "How did you make yourself look like this?" I couldn't help pulling Schiller's hands and staring closely at his eyes.

He looked at me and didn't answer, just smiled quietly.After a while, he said slowly: "Only after the script has been revised can a good show come out. This is what you expect..."

Before he finished speaking, I held him in my arms and whispered in his ear: "I'm sorry. No, thank you."

Schiller didn't refuse my hug. I felt his hand on my back, patted it like a comforting child, and said in a joking tone: "Our great poet is incoherent no matter how he speaks."

I still hug him like this, and I feel a little satisfied.Schiller is about the same height as me, only a little lower than me, but he is thin, and when hugged, people can't help but feel a sense of affection. People are deeply attracted.

I can't pinpoint what that feeling was, but I didn't want to see him languishing, and I didn't want him to leave me.

"I'm really worried about you," I let him go and let him face me squarely, "I know you value this work, but there's no need to work so hard."

"Actually..." Schiller pursed his lips, but didn't continue. Instead, he picked up the script from the table and handed it to me, smiling, "You can read my results first before talking about it."

I opened the script and probably looked at a few chapters that I was familiar with.I found that many places have been modified, and it is not the same as what I have seen before.But the revised plot is more compact and the characters are fuller.I opened my eyes wide in astonishment, and even the scene that caused a sensation when it was staged appeared in my mind, as well as the enthusiastic response of the audience and the high-profile praise of the critics...

"You..." I was so excited that I didn't know what to say. Seeing Schiller's confident expression, I couldn't help laughing, "I suddenly have an urge to buy you a drink."

"You just need to remember!" Seeing my happy appearance, Schiller also smiled.

After the script adaptation was completed, intense stage rehearsals began.

Because of the emphasis on this performance and the tight schedule, in addition to other theater staff, I will also appear in the theater from time to time to watch and guide the rehearsals of the actors.

The sun was very bright this morning, and the dew on the leaves reflected the brilliance. I asked Schiller to watch the rehearsal at the theater.

Schiele sat next to me, staring at the stage the whole time.Perhaps because it was the first time he was watching his own play, Schiele seemed excited.He nods from time to time, thinks from time to time, and exchanges ideas with me from time to time.

In the second act, the actress who plays Louise seems to be a little out of shape, always unable to grasp the tone of the characters.I was trying to figure out how to get her to improve when Schiller muttered, "Oh, that's too bad, why would Louise talk like that?"

Suddenly, I got an idea, stood up, clapped my hands and interrupted the performance on the stage. As I walked to the stage, I said loudly: "Everyone, the performance is a little flawed. I think Mr. Schiller and I should make a show for everyone together." Demonstration." Then he turned to Schiller, smiled and made a "please" gesture to him.

The actors immediately understood what I meant, and stepped back from the applause.Schiller was a little surprised, but soon approached the stage with raised eyebrows and a smile, and climbed up with my outstretched hand.Schiller's hand is very warm, and a few touches make me a little excited.As a child, I also performed on stage, but I was never so excited.

At this time, an idea suddenly flashed in my mind, how wonderful it would be if we were really Louise and Ferdinand in the play!

I blinked at Schiller, and then changed into Ferdinand's firm and affectionate eyes, and said, "Louise, I know my father's power is very powerful, but I believe that the power of our love is even stronger!"

Schiller also entered the state immediately. He stared at me with burning eyes, but soon dimmed them, and responded in a weak voice: "But, I am afraid, we cannot escape the shackles of prejudice, and we cannot escape you. Father's conspiracy!"

"Could it be that you don't love me?" I was a little choked up. At this time, I was no longer simply playing the role of Ferdinand, a young man looking forward to love, but myself!

I seem to be in an abyss.

"No! I love you!" Schiller said firmly.Knowing it was a line from the script, hearing it from Schiller still made me dizzy.

Only then did I know that I was looking forward to this sentence so much, if it is true, how great it would be!

I shook Schiller's hand violently, and said excitedly: "If the time to separate these hands comes, it will be the time when I will cut off from the world!"

Schiller's hands trembled, his eyes filled with disbelief.Indeed, this is not a line in the script, but I can't help saying it.The moment I blurted out, I was a little surprised and a little bit regretful, but Schiller recovered his calm expression, smiled and waited for me to finish speaking.

Looking at Schiller's amber eyes and slightly pursed lips, I almost couldn't help but want to lean over and kiss.However, the sound of applause interrupted my delusion.

"You guys did a great job!"

"so amazing!"

I smiled at the gathered actors. When I saw Schiller's calm smile from the corner of my eye, the scene just now appeared in my mind. I actually wanted to kiss Schiller!His heart was beating wildly involuntarily, and his cheeks seemed to be on fire.

"Do you want me to add that sentence to the script?" Schiller tilted his head slightly and looked at me.

"No...no need." I panicked, said goodbye to him hastily, and left the theater, not daring to look at Schiller again.

"Actually... I still like that sentence very much." Schiller sighed.

For the next few days, I didn't go to see Schiller, nor did I go to the theater to watch the rehearsal.Schiller occasionally came to look for me at home, but I let the servant excuse that I was not at home. He didn't say much, left a note and left.

"Rehearsal is all right, don't read. Schiller"

Fingers caressed the handwriting on the note, it was still the handsome and neat little characters.I sighed, bowed my head, and put my hands on my head.

As soon as I closed my eyes, Schiller's face appeared in front of me.Delicate and beautiful facial features, smooth reddish-brown hair.When I couldn't help myself and wanted to reach out and touch this long-lost beauty, he suddenly disappeared.I opened the window sadly, letting the wind mixed with the fragrance of fragrant grass mess my hair.

I remember my Weimar literary colleagues once asked me what I thought of Schiller.At that time, I replied, "I have Schiller, which is a real happiness for me. Although we have different personalities, we pursue the same goal, which makes us establish a close relationship. If any one of us leaves the other I can’t even live.” But now, I have to doubt my mood when I said these words.

Is my attachment to him really just because we have the same ideals?

Flying geese passed by in the frosty sky. I watched them fly farther and farther until they disappeared, and suddenly chuckled.

I found that I could do nothing about it in my own strength.

This inexplicable feeling has taken root, sprouted, and is ready to bloom. By the time I realize it, I will be unable to recover.

Perhaps, this is the so-called love, something that I have been looking forward to for 25 years, but it has never been with me.

How can I let go!

The weekend shows at the Weimar Theater were very successful.Immediately after the show ended, I was immediately mobbed.Whether it is the normally gentle priest or the reserved viscountess, they have become scourges at this time, pulling me and eagerly recommending their unmarried daughters and nieces to me... I have never seen such a situation in my life , squeezed out of the crowd almost disheveled, and knocked down a young lady in a panic.

I turned around and helped her up, apologizing sincerely, "I'm sorry, I..."

The lady stared at me for a while, her eyes suddenly became like wolves that hadn't preyed on them for ten years, glowing green, and she shouted: "Goethe! It's Goethe! I met him... Look! Where are people?"

When she and others were about to chase me again, they only saw a figure gradually disappearing behind the stage.

"Goethe, I've known you for so long, but this is the first time I've seen you in such a mess."

I was just about to take a break to catch my breath when I saw a familiar figure coming out from behind the curtain.

I smiled slightly: "Why? I don't believe you weren't besieged."

"Well, there are some, but not as many as you, but they still forced me to hide behind the stage."

I burst out laughing, and just as I was about to say something, I heard Schiller ask again: "Why, there are so many ladies from famous families, there isn't one Mr. Goethe likes us?"

Seeing that I curled my lips in disdain, he said again: "Let's talk about the Miss Wedders family. She is older, but she is also very pretty."

I always feel that there is a different color in this speech, but because I still don't know Schiller's mind, I will attribute it to my wishful thinking for the time being.

I joked, "Isn't it because Ferdinand couldn't let go of his poor sister Louise?"

Schiller was obviously taken aback, but quickly recovered, "Stop making fun of me. Believe it or not, I rushed out to lure those people over."

"No," I approached Schiller, resting my head on his shoulder, stretched out my hand to stroke his silky hair, and whispered two words in his ear: "Thank you."

Schiller put his arms around my back, patted the back of my neck, and asked, "Thank you?"

"Script, choreography...everything I can think of...and, you by my side."

I felt that the person in the neck pocket was breathing faster, and his breath warmed my neck.

In my arms, I can feel his heartbeat deeply.We are so close to each other, we are so close at this moment.

I turned his head and cupped his chin in my hand so that Schiller's eyes were looking directly at mine.I stared into Schiller's amber eyes, and said softly with the greatest courage in my life: "Schiller, actually... Actually, I like you. I love you!"

Schiller trembled, and reached out to hold mine.He stared at me, as if to confirm whether what I said was true, his crystal pupils showed a brilliance that I had never seen before.

"I... never knew, so... you too."

Just as I was reminiscing about Schiller's confession, Schiller hooked his hand on my shoulder, and his beautiful face greeted me. All the memories were frozen at this moment, leaving only the soft touch and unspeakable feelings .

For a moment, I was a little surprised, but it was quickly replaced by the joy that filled my heart.I lifted Schiller's jaw and let him get closer to me, grinding my lips and teeth, lingering.

Schiller is obviously not proficient in this, and he gasped after being kissed by me.As soon as he opened his mouth, I took the opportunity to pry open his teeth, and my dexterous tongues drove straight in, entangled wantonly, and there was a cold and strange feeling lingering between each other's tongues.

Neither Schiller nor I stopped, but continued to tease and demand from each other.I use my strength to press Schiller against the pillar behind the curtain.Schiller's body leaned straight up, and the sound of the impact echoed throughout the stage.We still kissed, even if the breath gradually became short, we didn't care.

There was a blush on Schiller's face, and from time to time there were small licks in my deepening kiss.I let go of his lips, turned my head, and kissed his soft earlobe, and whispered: "It's really like the sound of heaven."

Schiller didn't answer, just looked up at me, trying to catch his breath.Suddenly he uttered a few words as if sighing: "I've been waiting for this kiss for three years." After saying that, he kissed my lips again, pecking and sucking slowly, with immature skills like tasting dessert.

I glanced down diagonally from above, and what I saw was Schiller's jaw line.I kissed him comfortingly, then involuntarily lowered my head and began to linger around his neck, and my hands gradually moved inward along the hem of the clothes.Schiller's skin was like silk, but it was burning hot.I felt unprecedented excitement and satisfaction, and the kiss on my neck began to deepen.

"No." Schiller's body tensed, he stopped my hand from lighting the fire and protested in a weak voice, "Now...not yet."

"Why?" I found that my body was almost out of control. Although reason told me to stop this crazy behavior, I couldn't suppress the desire for so many years.

I tore off his silk bow tie and continued to lick down the curve of his neck. I have left a few bruises on his neck and collarbone. They are like flower buds that are about to bloom. The colors and Schiller's intermittent sex are all touching my nerves.

At this moment, Schiller, like a slender and proud swan, raised his snow-white neck and panted lowly.

I want to have him so badly!

However, Schiller stopped my further action. He gently held my face, stared at me, his eyes wavered slightly, and said in a difficult voice: "No, Goethe...look at me."

"Why?" I frowned and asked again.

Schiller's body trembled slightly, he had already been paralyzed by my gradually deepening demands, he leaned against my arms, his fair face was covered with shocking flush.Apparently, he was also using his little sanity to contend with the overwhelming pleasure.

Schiller looked at me and said slowly: "It's still too early...it's not the time yet. And, here, no...we have to be patient."

I don't know why, but a trace of anger suddenly appeared in my heart, "Patience? Why do you have to be patient? We love each other! We have been patient for so long, can you still bear it?"

Schiller stared at me blankly, then lowered his eyelids suddenly, and said in a weak voice, "I'm sorry, Goethe. It's me... I'm not ready."

I sighed helplessly, and explained softly: "Schiller, I didn't mean that, I was just a little surprised. You don't have to apologize to me." I pulled his blindfolded hand away and kissed him lightly forehead, said softly: "I don't want to force you. I just want you to know my feelings for you."

Schiller lowered his eyes upon hearing this, and his long eyelashes cast a shadow.

I pulled Schiller up from the floor, held him in my arms, and asked with a teasing smile, "You look like this...do you want me to take you home?"

Schiller hurriedly broke free from my arms, lowered his head and straightened his clothes, refusing to look up at me.I saw his embarrassment, smiled lowly, took his hand, and led him out from behind the stage.

The main hall of the theater was empty, and the group of dignitaries and celebrities who had besieged me and Schiller just now were gone.I stopped, pointed to the empty and dark stage and said to Schiller: "I will perform a play written for you on this stage—the biggest stage in Weimar."

Schiller looked at me, his eyes were like stars in the darkness, and teased, "I'm also a script writer, are you trying to compete with me?"

"You can write to me too."

"What are you writing? "The Adventures of Goethe Brown Bear"?"

I sneered, "Okay, as long as you want."

We walked out of the Weimar Theater hand in hand.Weimar is always quite quiet after nightfall, only the lights of a few houses are still on, exuding a soft orange color.The oncoming evening wind was icy and cool, carrying a few distant barks of dogs here.Schiller and I intertwined our fingers and strolled along the deserted streets.

Good times always go by so fast.I sent Schiller to his mansion, held his hand reluctantly, and said softly, "One day I will let you promise me."

Schiller's face turned red suddenly, he pursed his lips and smiled shyly, and finally said softly, "Maybe that day is not far away."

I kissed him on the cheek lightly, waved to him with a smile, hummed a little tune and turned to leave.

I was so happy. People always forget themselves when they are happy, so that I didn't notice the helplessness in Schiller's eyes, let alone hear his wistful sigh.

On this day Schiller came to my house from the theater and brought me a letter saying that Herder had sent it there.

Herder is my literary enlightener, a preacher with a hard personality.

"My consultant's house—he didn't send it to such a direct place, but he sent it to the Weimar Theater. It can be seen that he still has a heart about my involvement in politics." I complained to Schiller while opening the letter .

After reading the letter, I sighed, smiled helplessly at Schiller, and motioned for him to come to me, "Here, look, he is asking why I haven't had any new works recently. How should I answer him. ’ I put my arm around Schiller and asked him.

Schiller looked at me, stroked the broken hair on my forehead, and replied, "It's been a while since you wrote anything. Could it be that these government affairs have delayed you?"

I squeezed Schiller's hand, trying to create a look of helplessness, "Recently, my mind is all on a guy named Schiller, thinking about how to get him to agree to my request, where is the time? Write."

Seeing the blush on Schiller's face, I smiled inwardly, stopped teasing him, and told the truth: "Actually, it's not that I didn't write it. I've been conceiving a story about Faust since a long time ago."

"Faust?" Schiller was a little surprised, "Is that the alchemist Faust?"

"Well," I nodded, "but the structure of this story is too big and the content is too heavy. I was not satisfied with writing a few chapters, so I gave up. Recently, I thought of this story again, but I still don't have the confidence to write it well. .”

"How could it be!" Schiller retorted, "I have always believed that you are a very talented poet. Whether I evaluate you as a friend or not, I will always believe so."

He picked up the pen I put on the table and handed it to me, "Be confident, Goethe."

"But..." I still hesitated.

"Even if it's for me! Didn't you want to play a play written for me in Weimar's biggest theater? I want this!"

"Schiller..." I was very moved, and took the pen from Schiller's hand. It was obviously just an ordinary quill, but it weighed a thousand pounds at the moment, "Thank you."

Schiller leaned over and hugged me, and said softly, "Why do you always thank me?"

"Maybe." I slowly covered Schiller's lips, "I owed you something in my previous life, God let me be with you in this life, and thank you forever."