“Feel this heart, Father! It is yet the seat of honour, truth, and chastity: if it beats tomorrow, it must fall a prey to the blackest crimes. Oh! let me then die today! Let me die, while I yet deserve the tears of the virtuous! Thus will I expire!”⁠—(She reclined her head upon his shoulder; her golden hair poured itself over his chest.)⁠—“Folded in your arms, I shall sink to sleep; your hand shall close my eyes forever, and your lips receive my dying breath. And will you not sometimes think of me? Will you not sometimes shed a tear upon my tomb? Oh! Yes! Yes! Yes! That kiss is my assurance!”