His mind was already clear that he and Friederike must separate, but he was fully conscious that he was playing a sorry part.

Exaggerated language was such an inveterate habit with him at this period of his life that it is difficult to know with what exactness his words express his real feelings.[91] That he was unhappy, however, we cannot doubt, make what reserves we may for rhetorical excesses of style.

Here are a few passages from letters addressed to his friend Salzmann during his stay at Sesenheim: "It rains without and within, and the hateful evening winds rustle among the vine leaves before my window, and my _animula vagula_ is like yonder weather-cock on the church tower." "For the honour of God I am not leaving this place just at present....

I am now certainly in tolerably good health; my cough, as the result of treatment and exercise, is pretty nearly gone, and I hope it will soon go altogether.

Things about me, however, are not very bright; the little one [Friederike] continues sadly ill, and that makes everything look out of joint--not to speak of _conscia mens_, unfortunately not _recti_, which I carry about with me." "It is now about time that I should return [to Strassburg]; I will and will, but what avails willing in the presence of the faces I see around me?
The state of my heart is strange, and my health is as variable as usual in the world, which it is long since I have seen so beautiful.