Beloved Sisters Page #8

is seared into man's memory, dreams

and language, wittingly and unwittingly.

But all preceding ages sought

to bring about our more human age

without knowing it

or without achieving it.

Ours are the treasures that mind

and genius, reason and experience

have finally brought

forth after all this time.

Only history will teach you

to appreciate these values.

Habit and possession can easily

rob us of our gratitude for them.

Precious values, stained

with the blood of the best and noblest,

that had to be won

by the toil of so many generations.

However diverse the situations

that await you in civil society,

every act of service

opens a path to immortality.

To true immortality, I mean,

where the deed lives on,

even if the name

of its author stays behind.

Forgive me.

Come on,

put your hat back on, old man.

Lollo, come and dance with us.

Why aren't you dancing?

Do you know

what I just told my husband?

"A couple as happy as you two

is a rare sight."

Thank you.

On 14 July 1789,

1, 000 km away from Thuringia, in Paris,

the Bastille was stormed.

Humankind's heritage,

the desire for truth, morality and freedom

that Schiller spoke about,

began a new, heroic chapter this day.

But to do this, the old world order

had to be executed first.

Skirt. My skirt.

Up you go.

- Oh no, my hat!

- Here's mine.

Here's mine.

Thank you, men.

One of us sneaks in to him.

One of us goes to him, he won't notice.

And tomorrow we'll tell him

who spent the night with him.

What's wrong?

We've both been expecting you.

Each in his own way.

I wanted to be a bridge between you.

We live in the same quarters,

but not as man and wife.

We live like sister and brother.

Why?

I could never have received

the man you love so much.

You've done so much

for Maman and me.

For you, I'd be willing

to live my life in the shadows.

But don't you want him? With you?

Why not, I thought you...

Madame.

Thank you.

I'll follow you tomorrow evening

by stagecoach.

Yes, you do that.

"We won't see each other

for quite a while, dearest sister."

Our father's ring that Mother left me

is now yours.

You're the best person in the world.

But you must find

your own way together.

I will no longer be in your way.

The cruel pact we made

is null and void, Lollo.

I've been shortsighted, selfish

and ignorant. Forgive me if you can.

"Love always, Caroline."

Line!

Line, stay with me!

Line!

4 YEARS LATER

COTTA PRINTING HOUSE

Let's suppose it was like this:

On a dusty summer's day in 1793,

Schiller meets his sister-in-law Caroline

again for the first time.

Come, I'll show you

how a matrix is made.

While printing developments

are being explained to him,

in which the page layouts are fired

in an oven, using plaster matrices

that can then be stored, allowing

countless copies to be made anytime...

The pamphlets that

spurred on the Paris revolution.

As the printer drones on,

Schiller hears her voice over the noise

of the presses for a fleeting moment,

but initially thinks he's hallucinating.

Thousands and thousands of copies

that inspired the revolution in Paris.

It'd never have taken place

but for the invention of the stereotype.

But when he actually sees her,

his heart skips a beat.

Herr Cotta has an instinct for it.

I'll take you to him.

This is Herr Seeliger.

He was announced.

For the first time ever, he's glad

he must stay incognito in Wrttemberg,

due to the ban

the Duke imposed years before,

because no one

must see his emotions at this moment.

How is it being home again?

Familiar again after four weeks.

It's good you're back.

Such wonderful cloth. Where is it from?

From my dear wife.

Chinese silk, she says.

It's my incognito.

She stitched F.S. inside.

- What's your wife's condition?

- The heat bothers her.

She's gone seven months.

She's fine, the doctor says.

I trust him.

He delivered my younger sisters too.

We came to Ludwigsburg to see him.

I beg your pardon, Cotta,

we just dropped in, we didn't know...

Who was that man?

You're not serious? Dalberg.

Wasn't he your benefactor

in Mannheim and Weimar?

- God, I have to apologize right away.

- Stay. He didn't recognize you either.

What you bring me is tremendous.

They all did as you asked

and wrote articles for our journal.

Schlegel,

Fichte,

Humboldt,

Herder,

Woltmann

and Goethe.

I know, I'm really pleased too.

A great start to our journal "Die Horen".

It'll cause a sensation.

Germany's future.

They all take part

because they feel humanity's soul

is being enslaved by the current uproar.

Only the pursuit of beauty can free us.

There's no political discourse here,

only aesthetics and history,

art and philosophy.

Just the way it should be.

Forgive me for interrupting again.

Herr Dalberg,

sorry for not recognizing you.

Herr Schiller, you here?

My dear Schiller.

- How long will you stay in Tbingen?

- Just one night.

I'm in haste, may I cut in?

- Certainly.

- Thank you.

Cotta, I intend to let you

have some of the pieces I've revised.

What are you reading?

Don't you recognize me, Line?

How should I recognize you?

You don't make it easy, no greeting...

I have to disguise myself here.

The Duke renewed my ban

a year ago, as you know.

The Duke is gravely ill.

I didn't know you were in Wrttemberg.

Charlotte never said.

She doesn't know.

Nor does Maman.

The Duke is so ill, he'll have forgotten

the ban and what you look like.

I doubt that.

He'll hate me until his last breath.

Don't take yourself so seriously.

The world turns, even without you.

Undoubtedly.

So we meet again:

Me in exile

and you returned home.

How's your husband?

Beulwitz? He wants to get rid of me.

No, I want to get rid of him.

But I can't find anyone who'll have me.

Dalberg.

We support each other.

He is grateful for my company.

For now.

What did you ask me?

- I asked you what you're reading.

- "Cllie" by Madeleine de Scudry.

- Do you know it?

- No.

I was never interested

in courtly women's literature.

It contains a map of

"The Kingdom of Love".

Along the river that flows into the

Sea of Dangers, there are villages.

They have names like,

"Love Letter",

"Impatience", "Mutual Pleasures",

"Longing",

"Secret Message", "Indiscretion",

"Treachery", "Loneliness".

There's also a "Lake of Indifference".

Beyond the Sea of Dangers

lies the Unknown Country.

Madame de Scudry

was a noblewoman from Brittany

who came to great fame

in Paris 150 years ago.

She had many lovers,

but only her work made her happy.

She advocated a Kingdom of Love

in which passion is forever subdued

and where deep sympathies

of the soul reign instead.

Just this once. Let your heart

give me shelter and your body protection.

Just this once. Let your heart

give me shelter and your body protection.

- One last time.

- But why?

Forgive me my desire.

I will never mention it again.

- Why one last time?

- I promise.

I promise.

DIE HOREN, A MONTHLY JOURNAL

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