Thou wishest to bring me back to the world... whom? a wretched phantom... Think, ah! think only, if, yielding to thy entreaties, I were mad enough to leave these walls to go and throw myself with delight into thy arms,—and thou wouldst not recognise me,—wouldst not embrace me,—but, turning away thy sight, wouldst ask with disgust, 'is this frightful ghost my Aldona?' In vain wouldst thou seek in my dimmed eye, and on my cheeks, which now... Oh! the very thought of it makes me shrink;—no, never let the wretchedness of the recluse disfigure the features of the beautiful Aldona. I myself, I confess,—pardon me, my beloved,—but as often as the moon is shedding a bright light, and I hear thy voice, I conceal myself within the walls, lest I might see thee better. Thou too,
