“Amid the ravings of her delirium the unfortunate Theresa alternately called upon Percy and myself, to defend her against the arts of her enemies, to save her from the King. 'They seek my dishonour,' she would say with the most touching expression, 'and alas! I am fatherless!' From the vehemence of her indignation whenever she mentioned the name of Charles, I became at length persuaded that some painful mystery connected with my marriage remained to be unfolded; and the papers which her estrangement of mind necessarily threw into my hands, soon made me acquainted with her eventful history. Such was the compassion with which it inspired me for the innocent and injured Theresa, that I have sat by her bedside, and wept for very pity to hear her address her Percy--her lost and beloved Percy, and at other times call down the vengeance of heaven upon the king, for his licentious and cruel tyranny. “It was during her residence on the coast of Devonshire that she formed an acquaintance with Lord Hugh Percy, whose ship was stationed at a neighbouring port. They became strongly attached to each other; and with the buoyant incautiousness of youth, had already plighted their faith before it occurred to either, that her want of birth and fortune would render her unacceptable to his parents knowing, which he did, that they entered very different views for his future establishment in life, he dared not at present even make them acquainted with his engagement; and it was therefore mutually agreed between them that she should accept the proffered services of Lady Wriothesly for an introduction to the royal notice, and that he in the mean while, should seek in his profession the means of their future subsistence. Secure in their mutual good faith, they parted, and it was on this occasion that he had given her a song, which in her insanity she was constantly repeating. The refrain, 'Addio Teresa, Teresa Addio,' I remembered to have heard murmured by the Duke of Buckingham with a very significant expression, on the night when the agitation of Lady Greville had made itself so painfully apparent in the circle of the Queen. “You will believe with what indignation, with what disgust, I discovered that shortly after her appointment at court, she had been persecuted with the licentious addresses of the king. It was nothing new to me that Charles, in the selfish indulgence of his passions, overlooked every barrier of honour and decency, but that the unprotected innocence of the daughter of an old and faithful servant, whose very life-blood had been poured forth in his defence, should not have been a safeguard in his eyes, was indeed incredible and revolting. But it was this orphan helplessness, this afflicting destitution which marked her for his prey.