“Temptation, say you? Forget that I am a woman, and it no longer exists: consider me only as a friend, as an unfortunate, whose happiness, whose life depends upon your protection. Fear not lest I should ever call to your remembrance that love the most impetuous, the most unbounded, has induced me to disguise my sex; or that instigated by desires, offensive to your vows and my own honour, I should endeavour to seduce you from the path of rectitude. No, Ambrosio, learn to know me better. I love you for your virtues: lose them, and with them you lose my affections. I look upon you as a saint; prove to me that you are no more than man, and I quit you with disgust. Is it then from me that you fear temptation? From me, in whom the world’s dazzling pleasures created no other sentiment than contempt? From me, whose attachment is grounded on your exemption from human frailty? Oh! dismiss such injurious apprehensions! Think nobler of me, think nobler of yourself. I am incapable of seducing you to error; and surely your virtue is established on a basis too firm to be shaken by unwarranted desires. Ambrosio, dearest Ambrosio! drive me not from your presence; remember your promise, and authorize my stay!”