“If not on me,” said I, “look at least with pity on that innocent being, whose life is attached to mine! Great is my crime, but let not my child suffer for it! My baby has committed no fault: oh! spare me for the sake of my unborn offspring, whom ere it tastes life your severity dooms to destruction!”

The prioress drew back haughtily: she forced her habit from my grasp, as if my touch had been contagious.

“What?” she exclaimed with an exasperated air; “What? Dare you plead for the produce of your shame? Shall a creature be permitted to live, conceived in guilt so monstrous? Abandoned woman, speak for him no more! Better that the wretch should perish than live: begotten in perjury, incontinence, and pollution, it cannot fail to prove a prodigy of vice. Hear me, thou guilty! Expect no mercy from me either for yourself, or brat. Rather pray that death may seize you before you produce it; or if it must see the light, that its eyes may immediately be closed again forever! No aid shall be given you in your labour; bring your offspring into the world yourself, feed it yourself, nurse it yourself, bury it yourself: god grant that the latter may happen soon, lest you receive comfort from the fruit of your iniquity!”