Hour after hour have I passed upon my sorry couch, contemplating what had once been my child: I endeavoured to retrace its features through the livid corruption, with which they were overspread: during my confinement this sad occupation was my only delight; and at that time worlds should not have bribed me to give it up. Even when released from my prison, I brought away my child in my arms. The representations of my two kind friends⁠—(Here she took the hands of the marchioness and Virginia, and pressed them alternately to her lips)⁠—at length persuaded me to resign my unhappy infant to the grave. Yet I parted from it with reluctance: however, reason at length prevailed; I suffered it to be taken from me, and it now reposes in consecrated ground.

I before mentioned that regularly once a day Camilla brought me food. She sought not to embitter my sorrows with reproach: she bad me, ’tis true, resign all hopes of liberty and worldly happiness; but she encouraged me to bear with patience my temporary distress, and advised me to draw comfort from religion.