Deterville to Celina.

At my return from Malta to Paris, my dear sister, I received the fair Zilia's letter, which was delivered to me by your order, with a mixture of joy and dread. This letter, in the beginning, expresses her design to forget Aza, in the strongest terms; but, oh painful and cruel thought! it likewise expresses her resolution afresh never to put another in his place. She even forbids me having the least hope of that kind; what a mortal blow, my dear Celina, was this! Do you thoroughly enter into it?

While Zilia imagined she could depend on the fidelity of her lover, I had no room either for hope or complaint; I was sensible, from the melancholy feelings of my own heart, that such a passion was not easily conquered. While Aza was faithful, he had a right to Zilia; but when this Aza became faithless and perjured, had I not then a right to hope? Yet at the very moment that I conceived it, how cruelly was it crushed! Dear sister, how hard is my fate! Of what materials are those Peruvian souls composed? Is Zilia incapable of feeling that pleasure, which all women, I might say all mankind, enjoy in revenge? If she is, why does it not erase from her heart every idea of this ungrateful man. Surely it should, if it were only to shew her detestation of that crime.

How happy should I be, if amidst the variety of sentiments which fill her soul, one spark of love for me could find an entrance! I am sensible that my delicacy would be a little hurt by it, but no matter, if I have but her love. I shall owe a part of my happiness to revenge, but perhaps I shall likewise owe some to gratitude; shall I not then be infinitely blessed? Let me then for a moment enjoy the idea.