Memory brought madness with it, and when I thought of what had passed, a real insanity possessed me; sometimes I was furious and burnt with rage, sometimes low and despondent.

I neither spoke nor looked at anyone, but sat motionless, bewildered by the multitude of miseries that overcame me.
Elizabeth alone had the power to draw me from these fits; her gentle voice would soothe me when transported by passion and inspire me with human feelings when sunk in torpor.

She wept with me and for me.

When reason returned, she would remonstrate and endeavour to inspire me with resignation.

Ah! It is well for the unfortunate to be resigned, but for the guilty there is no peace.