And so many more journeys may the sun and moon make before our love is spent. But woe is me, you’ve been unwell lately – so far away from your witty and happy normal self that I have misgivings. Though I am distressed, please don’t allow it to upset you. In a woman fear and love are inseparable. Either they are non-existent or excessive. What my love is, you have seen. My fears are as great as my love. When there is great love, little doubts lead to fears. Where little fears flourish, great love grows, too.

(Horrified) No, don’t say another word! A love like that would be a treason in my breast! Let any second husband be a curse to me. Only women who have killed the first marry the second.

Sleep rock your brain, and may misfortune never part us!