Where there has been true love, has a very figurative signification. Transports of love have been often mistaken for transports of hatred. It is even often the expression of the most lively tenderness, By hatred then is often to be understood the emotions of a heard fond to distraction, breathing a revenge seldom in its inclination, and never in its power. A declaration of hatred is in women who have loved, never but a declaration of love: when they really do hate, indifference and silence are the genuine signs of it.
I am no longer master of myself: I give way to my transports This said by a lover, whilst he throws himself at his mistress's feet, or tips her some other dangerous attitude, means, “Whatever impertinent caution your reason may suggest to you, I would have you rather believe my madness, &c.”
There is no entering into the infinite detail of all the effects, emotions, revolutions, that these affected transports may produce: be it sufficient to observe, that as they have a show of deliriousness, such as a violent fever exhibits, in a sick person, so when the fit is over, what has passed is as little remembered by the one as by the other.