I was not ill pleased that she made use of this pretext to hide the true cause of her grief, and I thought she had not suspected me of having killed her gallant. Madam, says I, I am so far from blaming your grief, that I assure you, I take my share in it. I should very much wonder if you were insensible of so great a loss: mourn on; your tears are so many proofs of your good nature; I hope, however, that time and reason will moderate your grief. She retired into her apartment, where giving herself wholly up to sorrow, she spent a whole year in mourning, and afflicting herself. At the end of that time, she begged leave of me to build a burying place for herself, within the bounds of the palace, where she would continue, she told me, to the end of her days; I agreed to it, and she built a stately palace, with a cupola, that may be seen from hence, and she called it the Palace of Tears. When it was finished, she caused her gallant to be brought thither, from the place whither she had caused him to be carried the same night that I wounded him; she had hindered his dying, by a drink she gave him, and carried to him herself every day after he came to the Palace of Tears. Yet, with all her enchantments, she could not cure the wretch; he was not only unable to walk and to help himself, but had also lost the use of his speech, and gave no sign of life, but by his looks. Though the queen had no other consolation but to see him, and to say to him all that her foolish passion could inspire, yet every day she made him two long visits. I was very well informed of all this, but pretended to know nothing of it. One day I went out of curiosity to the Palace of Tears, to see how the princess employed herself; and going to a place where she could not see me, I heard her speak thus to her gallant: I am afflicted to the highest degree to see you in this condition; I am as sensible as yourself of the tormenting pain you endure; but, dear soul, I always speak to you, and you do not answer me; How long will you be silent. Speak only one word: Alas! the sweetest moments of my life are these I spend here in partaking of your grief. I cannot live at a distance from you, and would prefer the pleasure of always seeing you, to the empire of the universe. At these words, which were several times interrupted by her sighs and sobs, I lost all patience; and discovering myself, came up to her and said, Madam, you have mourned enough, it is time to give over this sorrow, which dishonours us both; you have too much forgotten what you owe to me and to yourself. Sir, said she, if you have any kindness or complaisance left for me, I beseech you to put no restraint upon me; allow me to give myself up to mortal grief, which it is impossible for time to lessen.