Monday, September 26, 2011

Eastern Oregon Trip: Elkhorn Scenic Byway

IMG_5515_1After shuffling through two museums, we were ready to go for a drive. Our first destination outside of Baker City was Sumpter, Oregon, a little over a half-hour drive. Sumpter doesn't qualify as a ghost-town, but it has plenty of those Old West buildings, and it has a ghost-dredge....a retired gold dredge, that is.

The gold dredge used water to pull the gold out of the soil.  The material sluiced through the moving building, water washing the gold to the bottom of the sluices, along with other heavy materials, and the lighter materials were dumped out the back.  The gold bits mixed with black sand were tumbled in a barrel with mercury-coated paddles.  The gold bonded with the mercury, while the black sand escaped below.  I wonder if the person responsible for this gave the Mad Hatter a run for his money. I also wonder how much mercury escaped into the ponds and piles and the Powder River.

This was the last of three dredges built on the Powder River, built in 1935, retired in 1954..  After viewing the dredge inside and out, it was mid-afternoon, and we had a choice: retrace our drive back to Baker City, or keep going on the scenic byway. If we returned, we'd have enough time to visit the Oregon Trail Interpretive Center, but if we kept going we'd see walls built by the Chinese, ghost towns, and pass over the mountains. We decided to keep going, and there might still be time to make it to the Interpretive Center. First detour off the byway: Granite.


Granite was supposed to be a ghost town, but it looked pretty occupied, and while the old buildings were minimally renovated, you could see the modern energy-efficient doors and windows. The next stop on the byway was to visit the Chinese Walls, but now that I research, I see I was looking at the wrong thing! 
"The Ah Hee Diggings, also called the Chinese Walls, are sixty acres of hand-stacked, winding rock walls constructed of placer mine tailings. The walls were built by Chinese miners who worked gold-mining claims for the Ah Hee Placer Mining Company along a five-mile stretch of Granite Creek from 1867 to 1891." source, link above
All the signs showed the stop with stone barriers, so I took photos of those, but what this website shows as walls were not cemented rocks, but piled rocks.

Before Granite we went over a pass of 5,864 feet, and after, a pass at over 7,800 feet, and we saw a mountain still a 1,000 feet higher.  The temperature up there was 66 degrees, and when we got to the valley, it was 81 degrees.

We made it to the Oregon Trail Interpretive Center just 20 minutes before they closed.  They didn't charge us, though my sweetie donated some money anyway, and they informed us that we could look but we had to be out of the parking lot by 6 pm.


After, we would have liked to stop to see wagon trail ruts near the road, but we had little time to catch some dinner, then go back to Sumpter for our moonlight train ride on the Sumpter Valley Railway.  (We ordered room service again for a quick but tasty meal.) We'll just have to visit the End of the Oregon Trail nearby in Oregon City sometime soon.  More photos of the dredge, the mountain drive, and the Oregon Trail center can be found here, along with further details.


Normally one would ride this train during the day, but because there was a full moon and the Perseid Meteor Showers were expected, this Moonlight Express was scheduled.  Just at that point in time when the next moment I couldn't see, the moment just before that, I saw a deer.  This was the extent of our wildlife spotting, other than birds and chipmunks. After twilight fell I spent most of my time with my head back looking at the sky above. Of course that bright lamp of the full moon didn't help any for spotting shooting stars, but I did see one, on our trip back to McEwan Station.  The 7 mile trip was extended in time thanks to changing of the engine from front to back, so it would be front again after Sumpter Station.  Also, we had cake.  More photos and details here.

This was a very full day.

Sunday, September 25, 2011

Slow Read: Middlemarch Book 4

Three love problems....hmmm. Mary and Fred? Rosamond and Mr. Lydgate? Dorothea and Casaubon?
CHAPTER XXXIV. 1st Gent. Such men as this are feathers, chips, and straws. Carry no weight, no force. 2d Gent. But levity Is causal too, and makes the sum of weight. For power finds its place in lack of power; Advance is cession, and the driven ship May run aground because the helmsman's thought Lacked force to balance opposites."

If any one will here contend that there must have been traits of goodness in old Featherstone, I will not presume to deny this; but I must observe that goodness is of a modest nature, easily discouraged, and when much privacy, elbowed in early life by unabashed vices, is apt to retire into extreme privacy, so that it is more easily believed in by those who construct a selfish old gentleman theoretically, than by those who form the narrower judgments based on his personal acquaintance.

In other words, if you thought there must be goodness in him, you didn't know Featherstone.

Watching funeral attendees...a day's entertainment:
"Ah, now they are coming out of church," Mrs. Cadwallader exclaimed. "Dear me, what a wonderfully mixed set! Mr. Lydgate as doctor, I suppose. But that is really a good looking woman, and the fair young man must be her son. Who are they, Sir James, do you know?" "I see Vincy, the Mayor of Middlemarch; they are probably his wife and son," said Sir James
CHAPTER XXXV. "Non, je ne comprends pas de plus charmant plaisir Que de voir d'heritiers une troupe affligee Le maintien interdit, et la mine allongee, Lire un long testament ou pales, etonnes On leur laisse un bonsoir avec un pied de nez. Pour voir au naturel leur tristesse profonde Je reviendrais, je crois, expres de l'autre monde." --REGNARD: Le Legataire Universel.

Google translates (hey, don't knock two years of French for reading knowledge was over 20 years ago): "No, I do not understand a more charming pleasure to see a troop of heirs afflicted Maintaining prohibited, and the long face, read a will or long blades, astonished They leave a good evening with a snub. To see in their natural deep sadness I would, I believe, expression of the other world. "- REGNARD: The sole heir.
There was still a residue of personal property as well as the land, but the whole was left to one person, and that person was-- O possibilities! O expectations founded on the favor of "close" old gentlemen! O endless vocatives that would still leave expression slipping helpless from the measurement of mortal folly!-- that residuary legatee was Joshua Rigg, who was also sole executor, and who was to take thenceforth the name of Featherstone.
And Mary, no one knows but Mary, could have caused a different outcome. So, problem one: Mary ruined Fred Vincy's chances, and thus his chances with her.

"'Tis strange to see the humors of these men, These great aspiring spirits, that should be wise: . . . . . . . . For being the nature of great spirits to love To be where they may be most eminent; They, rating of themselves so farre above Us in conceit, with whom they do frequent, Imagine how we wonder and esteeme All that they do or say; which makes them strive To make our admiration more extreme, Which they suppose they cannot, 'less they give Notice of their extreme and highest thoughts. --DANIEL: Tragedy of Philotas.

"Walter, you never mean to tell me that you have allowed all this to go on without inquiry into Mr. Lydgate's prospects?" said Mrs. Bulstrode, opening her eyes with wider gravity at her brother, who was in his peevish warehouse humor. "Think of this girl brought up in luxury--in too worldly a way, I am sorry to say-- what will she do on a small income?"
Problem two: Rosamond will spend beyond Lydgate's means.

"Thrice happy she that is so well assured Unto herself and settled so in heart That neither will for better be allured Ne fears to worse with any chance to start, But like a steddy ship doth strongly part The raging waves and keeps her course aright; Ne aught for tempest doth from it depart, Ne aught for fairer weather's false delight. Such self-assurance need not fear the spight Of grudging foes; ne favour seek of friends; But in the stay of her own stedfast might Neither to one herself nor other bends. Most happy she that most assured doth rest, But he most happy who such one loves best." --SPENSER.
Not for one moment did Mr. Casaubon suspect Dorothea of any doubleness: he had no suspicions of her, but he had (what was little less uncomfortable) the positive knowledge that her tendency to form opinions about her husband's conduct was accompanied with a disposition to regard Will Ladislaw favorably and be influenced by what he said.
Problem three: Not, as I might have expected, the popping of Dorothea's bubble of Mr. Casaubon, but Mr. Casaubon's jealousy stemming from feelings of inadequacy.

CHAPTER XXXVIII. "C'est beaucoup que le jugement des hommes sur les actions humaines; tot ou tard il devient efficace."--GUIZOT.
"It's great, men's judgment over human actions, sooner or later it becomes effective."


CHAPTER XXXIX. "If, as I have, you also doe, Vertue attired in woman see, And dare love that, and say so too, And forget the He and She; And if this love, though placed so, From prophane men you hide, Which will no faith on this bestow, Or, if they doe, deride: Then you have done a braver thing Than all the Worthies did, And a braver thence will spring, Which is, to keep that hid." --DR. DONNE.

Oh the intrigue! Sir James gets Dorothea to her uncle's estate so she can get him on the right track regarding the estate, and politics, but he has to pretend she's visiting Celia. Will is there, who is forbidden to visit by Casaubon, and of course, Will's smittenness deepens. And Brooke...he quarreled with Garth years ago? The interconnections of Middlemarch, a small world.

CHAPTER XL. Wise in his daily work was he: To fruits of diligence, And not to faiths or polity, He plied his utmost sense. These perfect in their little parts, Whose work is all their prize-- Without them how could laws, or arts, Or towered cities rise?

Thanks to the machinations of Sir James, the Garths are pulled up out of their poverty. The Garths tell the vicar, Mr. Farebrother, who often visits the Vincys, about Mary's secret late night with the old man and her indirect influence on Fred Vincy's lack of inheritance.

CHAPTER XLI. "By swaggering could I never thrive, For the rain it raineth every day. --Twelfth Night
He played this part now with as much spirit as if his journey had been entirely successful, resorting at frequent intervals to his flask. The paper with which he had wedged it was a letter signed Nicholas Bulstrode, but Raffles was not likely to disturb it from its present useful position.
The surprise heir Rigg has a surprise ne'erdowell step-father. What will he do with that letter from Bulstrode?

CHAPTER XLII. "How much, methinks, I could despise this man Were I not bound in charity against it! --SHAKESPEARE: Henry VIII.
Instead of wondering at this result of misery in Mr. Casaubon, I think it quite ordinary. Will not a tiny speck very close to our vision blot out the glory of the world, and leave only a margin by which we see the blot? I know no speck so troublesome as self.
I think this narrator is a closet Buddhist. That's what it's all about...this troublesome self.

Now Dorothea's belief in her husband begins to erode. The honeymoon's over, and the two don't know how to connect to each other, he especially.

Saturday, September 24, 2011

Slow Read: Middlemarch Book 3, Chapters 28-33

CHAPTER XXVIII. 1st Gent. All times are good to seek your wedded home Bringing a mutual delight. 2d Gent. Why, true. The calendar hath not an evil day For souls made one by love, and even death Were sweetness, if it came like rolling waves While they two clasped each other, and foresaw No life apart.

CHAPTER XXIX. "I found that no genius in another could please me. My unfortunate paradoxes had entirely dried up that source of comfort."--GOLDSMITH.

It is an uneasy lot at best, to be what we call highly taught and yet not to enjoy: to be present at this great spectacle of life and never to be liberated from a small hungry shivering self-- never to be fully possessed by the glory we behold, never to have our consciousness rapturously transformed into the vividness of a thought, the ardor of a passion, the energy of an action, but always to be scholarly and uninspired, ambitious and timid, scrupulous and dim-sighted.

Casaubon is a small man, who managed to land a great wife.

CHAPTER XXX. "Qui veut delasser hors de propos, lasse."--PASCAL.
Translation, thanks to this blogger: Whoever tries to divert us at the wrong time tires us out
Lydgate would have taken no notice of these words as anything more than the Vicar's usual way of putting things. They seemed now to convey an innuendo which confirmed the impression that he had been making a fool of himself and behaving so as to be misunderstood: not, he believed, by Rosamond herself; she, he felt sure, took everything as lightly as he intended it.

Or not. Clueless. Everyone is clueless.

CHAPTER XXXI. How will you know the pitch of that great bell Too large for you to stir? Let but a flute Play 'neath the fine-mixed metal listen close Till the right note flows forth, a silvery rill. Then shall the huge bell tremble--then the mass With myriad waves concurrent shall respond In low soft unison.
That moment of naturalness was the crystallizing feather-touch: it shook flirtation into love. Remember that the ambitious man who was looking at those Forget-me-nots under the water was very warm-hearted and rash. He did not know where the chain went; an idea had thrilled through the recesses within him which had a miraculous effect in raising the power of passionate love lying buried there in no sealed sepulchre, but under the lightest, easily pierced mould. His words were quite abrupt and awkward; but the tone made them sound like an ardent, appealing avowal. "What is the matter? you are distressed. Tell me, pray."

So how it happens...a crystallizing moment. Words unfold, love awakened. So seemingly inconsequential, but that enormous fullness of love was just shimmering beneath a thin skin, ready for a single moment to allow it to burst out.

CHAPTER XXXII. "They'll take suggestion as a cat laps milk." --SHAKESPEARE: Tempest.
For the old man's dislike of his own family seemed to get stronger as he got less able to amuse himself by saying biting things to them. Too languid to sting, he had the more venom refluent in his blood. Not fully believing the message sent through Mary Garth, they had presented themselves together within the door of the bedroom, both in black--Mrs. Waule having a white handkerchief partially unfolded in her hand--and both with faces in a sort of half-mourning purple...

The vultures circle, waiting to feast on the old man's remains.

CHAPTER XXXIII. "Close up his eyes and draw the curtain close; And let us all to meditation." --2 Henry VI.
In a very little while there was no longer any doubt that Peter Featherstone was dead, with his right hand clasping the keys, and his left hand lying on the heap of notes and gold.
This death scene was so Dickensian, was it not? Mary Garth alone with the old man, who would pull his puppet strings of the people around him to his last breath, but she would not be put in that spot.

Tuesday, September 13, 2011

Slow Read: Middlemarch Book 3, Chapters 23-27


My days are just packed. I've been reading this, as well as another very long book. This coming week I start co-teaching that class at the Zen Center, and that involves the class time as well as preparation and an extra meeting each week. To top it off, I signed up for a training at work this week. Oh, and Dharma School starts this Sunday...not next Sunday. So....gonna be a little behind on the reflective blogging bit.

CHAPTER XXIII. "Your horses of the Sun," he said, "And first-rate whip Apollo! Whate'er they be, I'll eat my head, But I will beat them hollow."

And Fred winced under the idea of being looked down upon as wanting funds for small debts. Thus it came to pass that the friend whom he chose to apply to was at once the poorest and the kindest--namely, Caleb Garth.
Oh Fred Fred Fred.  Bad idea.  Way to ruin things with Mary.

Fred believed in the excellence of his bargain, and even before the fair had well set in, had got possession of the dappled gray, at the price of his old horse and thirty pounds in addition--only five pounds more than he had expected to give.

Oh Fred Fred Fred, way to fall from the frying pan into the fire. You got all excited about that horse sight unseen, so of course you didn't see the flaws.

CHAPTER XXIV. "The offender's sorrow brings but small relief To him who wears the strong offence's cross." --SHAKESPEARE: Sonnets.
had not occupied himself with the inconvenience and possible injury that his breach might occasion them, for this exercise of the imagination on other people's needs is not common with hopeful young gentlemen.

That's putting it lightly. Foolish, happy-go-lucky, selfish Fred.

W. Blake
CHAPTER XXV. "Love seeketh not itself to please, Nor for itself hath any care But for another gives its ease And builds a heaven in hell's despair. . . . . . . . Love seeketh only self to please, To bind another to its delight, Joys in another's loss of ease, And builds a hell in heaven's despite." --W. BLAKE: Songs of Experience
And here are your consequences, Fred:

"I will try to be anything you like, Mary, if you will say that you love me." "I should be ashamed to say that I loved a man who must always be hanging on others, and reckoning on what they would do for him. What will you be when you are forty?

CHAPTER XXVI. "He beats me and I rail at him: O worthy satisfaction! would it were otherwise--that I could beat him while he railed at me.--" --Troilus and Cressida.

Fred takes ill, Wrench barely does his duty as doc, and the Vincys take on Lydgate for a doctor. Gossip ensues, romance soon to follow.

CHAPTER XXVII. Let the high Muse chant loves Olympian: We are but mortals, and must sing of man.

Girl flirts with Doctor, considers herself practically engaged. Doctor flirts with girl, thinking that's just what they do.

It is true, Lydgate had the counter-idea of remaining unengaged; but this was a mere negative, a shadow east by other resolves which themselves were capable of shrinking. Circumstance was almost sure to be on the side of Rosamond's idea, which had a shaping activity and looked through watchful blue eyes, whereas Lydgate's lay blind and unconcerned as a jelly-fish which gets melted without knowing it.

Lydgate sure has been blind to her possible effect on him, as his mind has been more on research and doctoring than on girls.

Monday, September 12, 2011

Eastern Oregon Trip: Museums

First view on entering the Adler Museum
We managed to pack two or three days into one. On our one full day away from home, we managed to see two museums, travel the Elkhorn Scenic Byway, which included several "ghost towns" and a state heritage sight, the Oregon Trail Interpretive Center, and a moonlight ride on an historic train.

After our leisurely room service breakfast, we were ready to do some of that walking around and about that tourists do, so first we went to the Adler House Museum. We happened to arrive just as the museum guide was starting a tour.

Leo Adler lived his entire life in this house, was a major philanthropist in Baker City, never married, and left his fortune to Baker County, including his house. Once he lived alone in the house he closed up the entire upstairs, closed up the front rooms, and only lived in two rooms in the rear of the house.  The unused rooms became unheated storage rooms.  In some ways this helped preserve household pieces, as they went unused, but weather extremes probably didn't help, and the rooms were never cleaned.  Leo was a generous person, and if someone said they liked something, he was apt to give it to the unique lamp at the bottom of the stairs.  Leo had given it away to a friend, but museum curators were able to ask for, and get it back.  The butler's pantry did not have a full set of dishes because Leo gave many of those away too.

foil award from the Pope
Leo receives award for good deeds from the Pope
As we proceeded on the tour, I found myself wondering about those parts left unsaid.  Why did Leo and his sister and his brother never marry?  Was it because they were Jewish and perhaps there weren't many Jewish people in Oregon?  Did any of them have lovers?  Our guide showed us a "Chap Book".  I didn't get it right away, as I immediately thought of the usual usage of the term.  She told us young ladies of the day would keep a book like this to keep track of their dates and whether they liked them.  Oooohhh! Chap book.  They called them "chaps" in the day.  It was the size of a yearly diary, and with room for about 5 chaps per page, there was room for a lot of chaps.  It looked as though Elizabeth had many entries, a good twenty pages, though it nowhere near filled the book.  All her entries listed the eye eyes...brown eyes...but as far as I could see as the guide riffed through the book, no opinions on how she liked the boys.  Poor Elizabeth died at the age of 33 of the flu.  Before that she taught kindergarten in the home.  Were all these chaps unworthy, or was Elizabeth just not interested in that?  Leo too?  Even with prejudice, he would have been a fine catch, but it seems he was uninterested. 

sister Elizabeth
for more photos from the Adler House Museum, go here
Since we happened upon the tour, we took a little longer here than we intended.  Next, we went to the Baker Heritage Museum.  Like the Tillamook Museum, which I am fond of visiting when at the coast, there was an interesting mix of natural history and people history. Whenever I visit these exhibits, it reignites my interest in rocks and fossils.  Among the many collections I had as a tween was a rock and fossil collection.  I keep meaning to ask my mom what happened to that.  I doubt she still has it.

After I got my camera out in readiness, and as we showed our tickets we'd got at the first museum (it cost less to visit both), my sweetie pointed out the sign that said no photography was allowed.  The clerk told us photos were okay, just no flash was allowed.  Good thing, because there was too much to see, and photos help me reflect on and remember things.

Crystal Palace
The Crystal Palace
I noticed that when you visit small museums like this, the exhibits depicting life back when look very similar...especially the schoolrooms. However, this museum also had rooms that depicted very specific pieces of Baker County history, such as the shop that Leo Adler's father owned, The Crystal Palace.

What might make these little County museums unique are these specific histories.  In Tillamook, there's an entire wall of portrait photos of founding citizens (see Elbridge Trask, immortalized by Don Berry in Trask).  Here, there was a particular focus on mining and logging history, as well as these scenes featuring the histories of specific citizens.  And I wonder, do all these museums have some stuffed animals?  I remind myself these animals would long be dead already anyway.

Coming next, our scenic drive. I leave you with the photo of the model for the film set of Paint Your Wagon.
film set model for Paint Your Wagon
For more photos of the Baker Heritage Museum collections, go here.

Sunday, September 04, 2011

Slow Read: Middlemarch Book 2, Chapters 18-22

MiddlemarchCHAPTER XVIII "Oh, sir, the loftiest hopes on earth Draw lots with meaner hopes: heroic breasts, Breathing bad air, ran risk of pestilence; Or, lacking lime-juice when they cross the Line, May languish with the scurvy."

Lydgate continued to work with Mr. Bulstrode. He was really uncertain whether Tyke were not the more suitable candidate, and yet his consciousness told him that if he had been quite free from indirect bias he should have voted for Mr. Farebrother.
but later...
Lydgate thought that there was a pitiable infirmity of will in Mr. Farebrother. 
Isn't that the pot calling the kettle black? Or does he think it an expression of will to vote against what others expect? Hardly seems so to me...seems to me his actions then are all about what others expect.

CHAPTER XIX "L' altra vedete ch'ha fatto alla guancia Della sua palma, sospirando, letto." --Purgatorio, vii.
They were just in time to see another figure standing against a pedestal near the reclining marble: a breathing blooming girl, whose form, not shamed by the Ariadne, was clad in Quakerish gray drapery; her long cloak, fastened at the neck, was thrown backward from her arms, and one beautiful ungloved hand pillowed her cheek, pushing somewhat backward the white beaver bonnet which made a sort of halo to her face around the simply braided dark-brown hair. 
Here I find the benefit not only of reviewing for the sake of blogging, but of the use of my Kindle. Currently, I've just read through Book III, and the image of Ariadne is fresh in my mind from that reading. So, looking back, this jumps out at me, and now I want to know more about Ariadne. And, thanks to my Kindle, I can easily find all the references to Ariadne in Middlemarch. There are just these two occurrences in which Ariadne is named. This one refers to Dorothea Brooke next to the Ariadne statue, witnessed by Will Ladislaw and his German buddy.  The statue draws attention to Dorothea's beauty due to her vivid life as contrasted to the dead stone, and due to her Christian bearing and "Quakerish gray drapery," as contrasted to the Greek fable.  The next occurrence likens the young woman Rosamond to Ariadne...more on that later...but I will say I think this may prove significant in the difference between these two women.
Antigone by Lord Frederick Leighton
"Confound you, Naumann! I don't know what I shall do. I am not so brazen as you." "Bah! that is because you are dilettantish and amateurish. If you were an artist, you would think of Mistress Second-Cousin as antique form animated by Christian sentiment--a sort of Christian Antigone-- sensuous force controlled by spiritual passion."
Ah, Dorothea as Antigone. A passionate idealist who would die for her faith, and the gods will side with her, or God, in this case.

CHAPTER XX "A child forsaken, waking suddenly, Whose gaze afeard on all things round doth rove, And seeth only that it cannot see The meeting eyes of love."
Nor can I suppose that when Mrs. Casaubon is discovered in a fit of weeping six weeks after her wedding, the situation will be regarded as tragic. Some discouragement, some faintness of heart at the new real future which replaces the imaginary, is not unusual, and we do not expect people to be deeply moved by what is not unusual. That element of tragedy which lies in the very fact of frequency, has not yet wrought itself into the coarse emotion of mankind; and perhaps our frames could hardly bear much of it. If we had a keen vision and feeling of all ordinary human life, it would be like hearing the grass grow and the squirrel's heart beat, and we should die of that roar which lies on the other side of silence. As it is, the quickest of us walk about well wadded with stupidity.
I love this. Don't get all bent out of shape...this is what happens.  Illusions are toppled, it's not unusual for a bride to cry.  If we felt deeply over this all the time, everything would be as sharp as pins, all the time.  We should die of the roar on the other side of silence.  The child that wakes suddenly learns from experience, grows up, and learns to move on. This bears pondering.
...she was inwardly seeing the light of years to come in her own home and over the English fields and elms and hedge-bordered highroads; and feeling that the way in which they might be filled with joyful devotedness was not so clear to her as it had been. But in Dorothea's mind there was a current into which all thought and feeling were apt sooner or later to flow--the reaching forward of the whole consciousness towards the fullest truth, the least partial good. There was clearly something better than anger and despondency. 
CHAPTER XXI  "Hire facounde eke full womanly and plain, No contrefeted termes had she To semen wise." --CHAUCER.
We are all of us born in moral stupidity, taking the world as an udder to feed our supreme selves: Dorothea had early begun to emerge from that stupidity, but yet it had been easier to her to imagine how she would devote herself to Mr. Casaubon, and become wise and strong in his strength and wisdom, than to conceive with that distinctness which is no longer reflection but feeling-- an idea wrought back to the directness of sense, like the solidity of objects--that he had an equivalent centre of self, whence the lights and shadows must always fall with a certain difference.

CHAPTER XXII "Nous causames longtemps; elle etait simple et bonne. Ne sachant pas le mal, elle faisait le bien; Des richesses du coeur elle me fit l'aumone, Et tout en ecoutant comme le coeur se donne, Sans oser y penser je lui donnai le mien; Elle emporta ma vie, et n'en sut jamais rien." --ALFRED DE MUSSET.

Found that translation:
"We talked for a long time; she was simple and kind.
Knowing no evil, she did only good:
She gave me alms from the riches of her heart,
And listening intently as she poured out her heart,
Scarcely daring to think, I gave her mine;
Thus she carried off my life, and never even knew it."

"Une Bonne Fortune," by Alfred de Musset (1834).
Even without translation, we could tell this was about Will falling for Dorothea. With translation, we get insights into his looming love.

pfuscherei? = bungling...Will says Naumann will say this of his painting.
It was beautiful to see how Dorothea's eyes turned with wifely anxiety and beseeching to Mr. Casaubon: she would have lost some of her halo if she had been without that duteous preoccupation; and yet at the next moment the husband's sandy absorption of such nectar was too intolerable; and Will's longing to say damaging things about him was perhaps not the less tormenting because he felt the strongest reasons for restraining it.
If he never said a cutting word about Mr. Casaubon again and left off receiving favors from him, it would clearly be permissible to hate him the more. The poet must know how to hate, says Goethe; and Will was at least ready with that accomplishment.