One day I went out of curiosity to the Palace of Tears to see how
the princess employed herself, and, going to a place where she
could not see me, I heard her speak thus to her gallant: I am
afflicted to the highest degree to see you in this condition; I
am as sensible as you are yourself of the tormenting grief you
endure; but, dear soul, I always speak to you, and you do not
answer me. How long will you be silent? speak only one word:
Alas! the sweetest moments of my life are those I spend here in
partaking of your grief. I cannot live at a distance from you,
and would prefer the pleasure of always seeing you to the empire
of the universe.
At these words, which were several times interrupted by her sighs
and sobs, I lost all patience; and, discovering myself, came up
to her, and said, Madam, you have mourned enough, it is time to
give over this sorrow which dishonours us both; you have too much
forgotten what you owe to me and to yourself. Sir, says she, if
you have any kindness or complaisance left for me, I beseech you
to put no force upon me; allow me to give myself up to mortal
grief; it is impossible for time to lessen it.
When I saw that my discourse, instead of bringing her to her
duty, served only to increase her rage, I gave over and retired.
She continued every day to visit her gallant, and for two long
years gave herself up to excessive grief.
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