Along the same gallery, upon a level with my prison, I saw other
prisoners passing and repassing the whole day to the place of
examination. They were, for the chief part, of lowly condition, but
occasionally one or two of better rank. All, however, attracted my
attention, brief as was the sight of them, and I truly
compassionated them. So sorrowful a spectacle for some time filled
me with grief, but by degrees I became habituated to it, and at last
it rather relieved than added to the horror of my solitude. A
number of women, also, who had been arrested, passed by. There was
a way from the gallery, through a large vault, leading to another
court, and in that part were placed the female prisoners, and others
labouring under disease. A single wall, and very slight, separated
my dwelling from that of some of the women. Sometimes I was almost
deafened with their songs, at others with their bursts of maddened
mirth. Late at evening, when the din of day had ceased, I could
hear them conversing, and, had I wished, I could easily have joined
with them. Was it timidity, pride, or prudence which restrained me
from all communication with the unfortunate and degraded of their
sex? Perhaps it partook of all. Woman, when she is what she ought
to be, is for me a creature so admirable, so sublime, the mere
seeing, hearing, and speaking to her, enriches my mind with such
noble fantasies; but rendered vile and despicable, she disturbs, she
afflicts, she deprives my heart, as it were, of all its poetry and
its love. Spite of this, there were among those feminine voices,
some so very sweet that, there is no use in denying it, they were
dear to me. One in particular surpassed the rest; I heard it more
seldom, and it uttered nothing unworthy of its fascinating tone.