What you say of the pride of giving life to an immortal soul is very fine dear, but I own I cannot enter into that: I think much more of our being like a cow or a dog at such moments: when our poor nature becomes so very animal and unecstatic.
Fairest and dearest your wrath and anger are more heavy than I can bear but learn that I cannot tell what you wish me to say without sinning against my honour too grievously.
