Beloved Sisters Page #2

- Why not?

I'd only wish for a husband

who's a little like our father.

You baby.

Our father was a poor, ailing man.

He was paralyzed.

He was gentle and only spoke lovingly.

Of everything.

Of people, nature...

Not like these vipers at court

who judge everything

and weigh every word.

Haven't you met a single young man

here in Weimar whom you like?

On the day of her return home,

Caroline finds a two-week old letter

on her sister's desk

from a Herr Friedrich Schiller,

telling Charlotte that after

their first meeting at her window

he had often looked out for her there,

that he knew who she was

and asked her to signal

that they could meet again.

Without hesitation

Caroline writes him a reply.

"Herr Friedrich Schiller,

Weimar, Am Frauenplan."

Dear Herr Schiller,

you don't know me

but I found your note to my sister

Charlotte von Lengefeld on her desk

and took the liberty of reading it.

It strikes me that the two of you

got on well at once.

I worry a bit about my little sister.

"Could you look after her a little?"

Frau von Stein, I request permission

to take Frulein Lengefeld

out for an afternoon.

With a chaperone

and on your terms, of course.

"Don't tell her I wrote to you."

But, if you like, you can visit us

in Rudolstadt in the summer.

Our mother,

who lives with my husband and me,

would certainly be thrilled to meet

such a famous poet,

whose play 'The Robbers'

has made him rather notorious.

Rudolstadt is a day's journey

south of here.

A peaceful little Duchy.

"You could come and stir it up a bit."

It's a wood engraving, a relief print.

It allows more contrast

and bigger black areas.

Charlotte, look at this lettering

from France, the Didot typeface.

It's crystal clear.

Look.

Revolutionary.

Its clarity makes it easier to read.

This is how it looks in print.

Imagine if one day everyone could read,

understand and buy a book.

Afford one.

That one day

books might be affordable for everyone.

Ideas bound for all.

The idea alone

makes me giddy every time.

I think humanity will evolve through

knowledge and the sight of true beauty.

We, Charlotte, you and I,

will see a new world in our lifetime.

Your coat's torn. Here too.

Give it to me. I'll mend it.

You'll get it back next time.

Good-bye.

Good-bye.

- Madame wants to see you.

- What is it?

She's received a letter from Italy,

from Goethe.

"Herr von Goethe."

- When?

- This afternoon, while you were out.

He's not coming back.

He won't come back to me.

Get out. Get out!

Maybe such experiences

made Charlotte feel

that sacrifice and loss

prevail in the greatest of loves

and that an unhappy love adorns

the sufferer with an aura of beauty.

She doesn't always like her godmother

but admires her for the difficult path

she chose for her great friend Goethe.

Now she hears the music of tragedy.

It is the tragedy of love,

the tragedy of marriage

that seem to tell her,

"You were not made for big feelings like

these, Little Charlotte von Lengefeld."

SUMMER 1788, RUDOLSTAD When will he arrive?

Tomorrow afternoon.

If the coach is on time.

- Where will he stay?

- Lollo rented him a room in Volkstedt.

We'll see him coming from afar every day,

when he comes to visit us.

A lovely walk.

The worse off we are financially,

the more important

our reputation becomes.

Dearest, anything to add

on the subject of Schiller?

Yes.

On account of his famous revolutionary

drama about the rebel "Robbers",

an undeserved reputation precedes him.

Undeserved?

He's a young man,

driven by excessive ardor.

But no reason to worry.

He's a poet and a gentleman.

Just throw him into the Saale

twice a day to cool down.

And prevent him from turning

the big historico-political wheel,

because he won't stop talking.

But otherwise he's a most

well-behaved pet for your daughters.

What's the matter?

He may expect too much of us.

What if he gets bored?

Don't worry. We'll see what happens

when he gets here.

He's likely to send a message every

morning saying when we can expect him.

He'll want to work until noon.

So we'll expect him in the early afternoon

and watch him walking along the river.

Let's see how long it takes that person

to get from the bridge to here.

Starting now.

He's very sluggish.

Schiller walks differently.

All right, we'll deduct some time.

When we see him coming

we'll put some new books on the table.

Over there too.

Different ones every day.

If the weather's nice

we'll serve drinks in the garden.

Maman says to receive him

in the front house.

- Why?

- She's ashamed of her house.

Our place smells of my husband.

Look, now he'd be by the bridge.

You'd have plenty of time

to put on your wig.

- I never wear wigs.

- Or tweak your red cheeks.

Where'd he be now?

- By the bench.

- He could see us.

Get away from the window.

- He mustn't know that we're waiting.

- No.

Turn your back to him at the most.

We're glad, not desperate, to see him.

Women can't offer themselves

like sour milk, you know?

Lotte?

Forgive me, I mistook

you for someone else.

Don't look so disappointed, Herr Schiller.

Here she is.

But she's Lollo here, not Lotte.

- You're one day early.

- I know.

Don't be so stern.

Thank you.

And the room in Volkstedt?

Is it good?

Yes.

Even though I was one day early.

Pleasant people. I already had coffee.

Incredible that I mixed up the dates.

Yes, incredible.

We must introduce you

to our mother now.

Especially the color accuracy is great.

This will be the first volume

of the deceased Herr von Lengefeld's

silvicultural writings.

The advance copy has been printed.

We just corrected the proof

and checked it against

the original manuscripts.

This is your father's handwriting?

Very expressive.

My husband was paralyzed

on one side due to a stroke.

After that he had to get used to

writing with his left hand.

Hence the expressiveness.

You can't read the scrawl at times.

Dearest, this matter

is for close family only. S'il vous plat.

You live in the front house, Madame?

No. But I receive guests

in my son-in-law's quarters.

He is away. In Berlin.

Since my husband's death,

more than ten years ago,

we've accepted compromises

in our lifestyle.

Herr von Beulwitz is wealthy?

From a well-to-do house.

He now holds a good position

as chamberlain with Prince Schwarzburg.

He's about to become

a privy legation councillor.

And yes,

as you may suspect, Herr Schiller,

one can't say his superb prospects were

an obstacle to a union with my daughter.

All right, he's most sympathetic,

but he has no taste and no money.

He looks like a beggar.

Lollo, I didn't send you to the Weimar

court to find yourself a poor poet.

- Follow your sister's example.

- No, don't.

The man's a pauper.

Maybe he thinks

he stands to gain something here.

Did you purposely let him

think that, Charlotte?

I don't need to lie

to be a good catch, Maman.

Everyone knows

we don't exactly eat off gold plates.

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