But while the soul of the Duchess rose superior to the ills of life, her constitution, weakened by a long period of ill health, and by the agitations of extreme sensibility, was not in a state to resist so great a shock; and though she lingered upwards of a year, the real cause of her death could not be mistaken:—an inward melancholy preyed upon her spirits, which she combated in vain.—“Many have smiled in adversity,” she would say; “but it is left for me to weep in prosperity:—such is the will of Heaven, and I resign myself as becomes me, to that power, which knows when to give, and when to take away.” On her death-bed, she said to the Duke: “This is a hard trial for you to bear; but God, who, when he sends trials, can send strength also, will, I trust, support you.—You will pursue your career with that honour and dignity, which has hitherto distinguished it—nor would my feeble aid assist you in it; but I, on the contrary, like a weak unsupported plant, must have drooped and pined away, had I lived to survive the tender and faithful friend, who has guided and sustained me. It is far better, as it is. You will be a guardian and protector to my Calantha, whose quickness and vivacity, make me tremble for her. I could not have watched over her, and directed her as I ought. But to you, while she smiles, and plays around you, and fills the space which I so soon must leave,—to you, she will prove a dear and constant interest. Never, my dearest Altamonte, ah! never suffer her to be absent, if possible, from your guiding care:—her spirits, her passions, are of a nature to prove a blessing, or the reverse, according to the direction they are permitted to take. Watch over and preserve her—are my last words to you.—Protect and save her from all evil—is the last prayer I offer to my God, before I enter into his presence.” ...