MOURNING

Please receive my adieus, Madame, the last I shall make, and hear my last prayer; which is to leave me to my fate, forget me utterly and no longer count me among the living. There is a stage in misfortune when even friendship increases our suffering and cannot cure it. When the wound is mortal, all help becomes inhumane. All other feeling but despair is strange to me. All I wish for now is darkest night in which to bury my shame. There I shall weep for my errors – if I can still weep! For since yesterday I have not shed a tear. They no longer flow from my stricken heart. Farewell, Madame. Do not send a reply. I have sworn upon this cruel letter never to receive another.

(Letter CXLIII, The Présidente de Tourvel to Madame de Rosemonde)