I was writing a long play on a fable suggested by one of my father's early
designs. A king's daughter loves a god seen in the luminous sky above her
garden in childhood, and to be worthy of him and put away mortality,
becomes without pity & commits crimes, and at last, having made her way to
the throne by murder, awaits the hour among her courtiers. One by one they
become chilly and drop dead, for, unseen by all but her, her god is
walking through the hall. At last he is at her throne's foot and she, her
mind in the garden once again, dies babbling like a child.