deepest, dumbest and even most moanless melancholy had changed her into a mere shadow, but this shadow, still bearing the traces of the sweetest reality, moved every beholder to tears. All our attendants, all those with whom we only stopped for an hour on the road, began to participate in my sentiments. I myself, with all my reasons of hatred and abhorrence, could not help feeling the impression of the secret influence, which a beautiful woman, repentant and distressed, is apt to exert. I endeavoured to console her, but my kind attention only made her the sadder. She thanked me with still tears, and the discreet fervor of a humbled and half-broken heart, shewing me at the same time, that the despaired of every thing.
As soon as the cloister came in sight, she began to break out in loud lamentations upon her cruel fate. She seemed quite inconsolable, but I was sure, that the bosom of solitude would minister more comfort unto her wounded heart, than she really expected.
