Let us return to our dear home, for I acknowledge to you I sigh for Weimar.

I long for the dear little place, where every one knows me and greets me, and even for my dogs and horses." "And I," said Goethe, "I really mourn for my Tusculum, which I owe to the generous, kind duke; for the balcony of my little cottage, where, canopied by the blue, starry vault of heaven, I dream away the lonely May nights." "Is there nothing else you sigh for but the summer-house at Weimar ?" "No!" cried Goethe, and an indescribable expression of rapture and delight was manifest in his whole manner.
"No, why should I deny it, how could I?
It would be treason to the Highest and most Glorious.

No, I long for my muse, my mistress, my--" "Beloved!" interrupted the duke.

"I pray you not to be so prudish, so reserved.

Have the courage to snap your fingers at this infamously deceitful moral code, and proud and distinguished as you are, elevate yourself above what these miserable earthworms call morality.