Our happiness, regardless of all outside, had the calmness of a brook whose pure wave is never troubled by the storm, and which rolls sweetly between flowery banks, spreading its own freshness through the grove that protects its modest course.
"A lightning stroke separated us from each other at the moment when Law and Religion were about adding their sanction to our sweet communion.

I departed before I was able to give my name to her who had given me her heart.

I promised to return; she promised to wait for me; and, all bathed in her tears, I tore myself from her arms, to rush to the laurels of Dresden and the cypresses of Leipzic.

A few lines from her hand reached me during the interval between the two battles.

'You are to be a father,' she told me.