“Do not laugh at me, my friend, for no one knows the needs of a woman’s heart better than I—this beating heart, this bird soaring in the air of love, this goblet brimming with wine pressed through the ages as a drink for spirits, this book in which are printed chapters of happiness and grief, of pleasure and pain, of joys and sorrows, and which will be read only by him who was created as her other half before eternity and for all eternity. . . Yes, I have come to know women. I knew the desires of their souls, the longings of their hearts, at that moment when I found that my husband’s proud horses, his splendid carriages, his overflowing coffers and high station were not worth a single glance from the eyes of that poor youth who came into this life for my sake, and I for his. That youth is patient in the anguish of tribulation and the misery of separation, oppressed by being destroyed by my father’s decision, imprisoned for no crime in the darkness of life. Beware, my friend, of trying to comfort me, for I have a comforter in my afflictions. It is my apprehension of the power of my love, my knowledge of the nobility of my desire and yearning. Now I look from behind my tears and see my fate drawing nearer day by day. It will lead me to the place where my soul’s companion awaits me. There I will meet him and take him in a long and holy embrace. You have no reason to criticize me. I do what a faithful wife must. Patient and calm I am obedient to human laws. I honor my husband in my mind and respect him with my heart, give him honor with my soul. But I cannot give him my whole being. God gave it to my lover before ever I knew my lover. For some hidden wisdom Heaven willed that I spend my life with a man though I was created for another. I will spend this life in silence, as Heaven wills. When the gates of eternity open, I will be joined to my fair half and I will look to the past—that past which is this moment—as the spring looks back at the winter. I will contemplate this life of mine as one who has reached the summit of a mountain contemplates the steep paths he has climbed.”