Page:Memoirs of a Woman of Pleasure (1749, vol. 1).pdf/143

 heart over me, a passion in which soul and body were concenter'd, and left me no room for any other relish of life but love.

As to the men I saw at those places, or at any other, they suffer'd so much in the comparison my eyes made of them with my all-perfect Adonis, that I had not the infidelity even of one wandering thought to reproach myself with upon his account. He was the universe to me, and all that was not him, was nothing to me.

My love, in fine, was so excessive, that it arriv'd at annihilating every suggestion or kindling spark of jealousy, for one idea only tending that way gave me such exquisite torment, that my self-love, and dread of worse than death, made me for ever renounce and defy it: nor had I in deed occasion, for were I to enter here on a recital of several instances wherein Charles sacrific'd to me women of greater importance than I dare hint, (which considering his form was no such wonder), I might indeed give you full proof of his unshaken constancy to me, but would not you