divert the regrets, the remorse, that rend my heart : alas ! they
would suffice to deliver me from a life I hate ; you alone and
mj sorrow remain to me in this wide world ; I have no more
interest in it, no ties, no friends, and I need none : to love
you, to see you, or to cease to exist — that is the last and
only prayer of my soul. Yours does not respond to it, I
know ; but I do not complain of that. By a strange caprice,
which I feel but cannot explain, I am far from desiring to
find in you that which I have lost : it would be too much ;
what human being has better felt than I all the value of
that life ? Is it not enough to have blessed and cherished
that nature once ? How many thousands of men have
crossed this earth without compare to him ! Oh ! how I
have been loved ! A soul of fire, full of energy, which had
judged all things, estimated all things, and then, turning
away revolted by all, gave itself up to the need and joy of
loving — mon ami, that is how I was loved.
Several years went by, filled Vith the charm and the sorrows inseparable from a passion as strong as it was deep, and then you came to pour poison into my heart, to ravage my soul with trouble and remorse. My God! what have you not made me suffer! You tore me from my feeling, but I saw you were not mine. Do you not see the whole horror of that situation ? How is it that I have lived through such woe ? How can one still find gentleness to say : " Mon ami, I love you, and with such truth and tenderness that it is not possible your soul be cold as it hears me " ? Adieu.
You are " displeased ; " see if you ought to be ; what soul have you ever inspired with a stronger or more tender feeling? Mon ami, in whatever way you regard and judge my soul, I defy you to find anything in it to displease you. Oh !
