Section 111. GOETHE’S DEATH. II.
Reading edition
In silent anguish they[1] now awaited the close now so surely approaching (S. 48, N. 6). His speech was becoming less and less distinct. The last words audible[2] were: “More Light!” The final[3] darkness[4] grew apace, and he[5] whose eternal longings had been for more light, gave a parting cry for it as he was passing under the shadow of death.
He continued to express himself by signs, drawing[6] letters[7] with his forefinger in the air, while he[8] had strength, and finally, as life (S. 3, N. 2) ebbed[9], drawing[10] figures slowly on the shawl which covered his legs. At[11] half-past twelve he composed[12] himself in the corner of the easy chair. His faithful watcher[13] placed a finger on her lips to intimate that he was asleep[14]. It was a sleep in which a life glided[15] from the world. He[16] woke no more.—G. H. Lewes, Life of Goethe.
Supporting himself on her arm he slowly ascended the stairs. Indem er sich auf ihren Arm stützte, stieg er langsam die Treppe hinauf.