's wedding, and could not refrain from weeping.... It was not
my mother who prepared the ducat, the morsel of bread, the salt, and the
sugar, which the betrothed should bear with her on her wedding day; and
so, at the last moment, I forgot them.

I am now alone in my chamber; not a single friendly eye will say to me:
'Be happy!' My parents have not blessed me.... Profound silence reigns
in every direction, all are yet asleep, and this light burns as if near
a corpse.... Ah! my God! what a mournful festival! Were it not for this
feverish agitation and this wedding ring, which I must soon take off and
hide from every eye, I should believe all these events to be merely a
dream.... But no, I am his, and God has received our vows.

SULGOSTOW, Monday, _December 24th._

I thought when I married that I would no longer have any occasion to
write in my journal: I believed that a friend, another me, would be the
depositary of all my thoughts. I said to myself: 'Why should I write,
when I will tell all to the prince royal (it seems to me as if I could
call him thus during my whole life)? He does not know enough Polish to
read my diary, and consequently it is useless.' But everything separates
me from my well-beloved husband; I will continue to write that I may be
more closely bound to him, that I may preserve all the remembrances
which come to me from him.... I am pursued by a pitiless fate! Ah! what
despair is at my heart!... When shall I see him again?

These last few days have been fearful! I thank Heaven that I am not yet
mad! The princess palatiness has sent me from her house, driven me out
as if I were unworthy to remain.... I have taken refuge with my sister
at Sulgostow: when I arrived, I sent for Barbara and her husband, and
said to them: 'Oh, have pity, have pity on me, for I am innocent; I am
the prince royal's wife!'

My poor sister, to whom the whole transaction was a mystery, thought I
had lost my reason, and was about calling in her maids to aid me. I
endeavored to calm her fears, and to-day I have confided to her all my
sorrows.

I will try to write down all these recent events. If God ever permits me
to enjoy happiness and tranquillity, I will again read these pages, and
will better appreciate the value of a quiet felicity.

Six weeks passed after our marriage, and no one had the least suspicion:
neither the king, the court, nor the watchful society surrounding me,
had penetrated our secret; all called me