“My nature was licentious and warm, but not cruel: my conduct had been imprudent, but my heart was not unprincipled. Judge then what I must have felt at being a continual witness of crimes the most horrible and revolting! Judge how I must have grieved at being united to a man who received the unsuspecting guest with an air of openness and hospitality, at the very moment that he meditated his destruction. Chagrin and discontent preyed upon my constitution: the few charms bestowed on me by nature withered away, and the dejection of my countenance denoted the sufferings of my heart. I was tempted a thousand times to put an end to my existence; but the remembrance of my children held my hand. I trembled to leave my dear boys in my tyrant’s power, and trembled yet more for their virtue than their lives. The second was still too young to benefit by my instructions; but in the heart of my eldest I laboured unceasingly to plant those principles, which might enable him to avoid the crimes of his parents. He listened to me with docility, or rather with eagerness. Even at his early age, he showed that he was not calculated for the society of villains; and the only comfort which I enjoyed among my sorrows, was to witness the dawning virtues of my Theodore.