How unhappy is my condition! I have lost everything on the side of Reason, and I see nothing for me to pretend to on the side of Passion. Shall I ask you to love a man of my age? I have not been so good a Christian as to expect miracles in my favour. If the merit of my Passion could obtain of you a concern for my being old, and a desire that I were young again, I should be content. The favour of a Wish is but a small matter; pray refuse me not that. It is natural to wish that every one that loves us were amiable.
There never was so disinterested a Passion in the world, as mine. I love those you love, nor do I love less those who love you; I consider your Lovers as your Subjects, instead of hating them as my Rivals: and that which is yours is dearer to me, than that which is against me is hateful to me. As for what relates to the Persons who are dear to you, I take no less a concern in them than you; my soul carries its movements and affections to the place where yours are; I relent when you grow tender; when you languish 'tis the same case with me. The passionate Songs at the Opera make no impression upon me of themselves; they have no manner of influence over me, but by that which they have over you. I am touch'd to see you touch'd; and those melancholy Sighs, which, now and then, steal unawares from you, put my heart to no less expence than they do yours.
I have little or no share in causing any of your pains, but I suffer from them as much as you do. Sometimes you produce in us a Passion different from that which you design'd to excite. If you repeat any Verses out of the Andromache, you inspire Love with the sentiments of a Mother who would only stir up Pity. You endeavour to make us sensible of her Misfortunes, and you soon see us sensible of your own Charms. Sad and compassionate
