Such rage ought to be expected from Your Highness should you wish to prove to the public as well as to me how great is the extent of your unruliness. This will of course be an indisputable sign of your ingratitude toward me, as well as your slight attachment to me. For this fury is contrary to both my desire and to the difference in our affairs and stations. The Viennese court has no equal and it will now be able to judge how reliable I am in recommending people for their highest honors. And so this is how you show your concern for my reputation.
Then she reversed her approach and made another appeal:
My Lord and Dear Husband! I shall begin my answer with that line which touches me most of all: who ordered you to cry? Why do you give greater authority to your lively imagination than to the proofs which speak in your wife’s favor? Was she not attached to you two years ago by the bonds of Holy Matrimony? My dear, you suspect the impossible of me. Have I changed my tune, could you be unloved? So now consider for yourself: were my words and deeds in your favor stronger two years ago than now?
Should you not find pleasure in constantly quarreling with me … then I beseech you to dampen your hot temper.… I am truly someone who loves not only affectionate words and behavior but an affectionate face as well.… I remain full of hope, without which, I, like all other people, could not live.
May God forgive you … the injustices you’ve shown me.… Catherine was never insensitive. Even now she is attached to you with all her heart and soul.… I don’t understand why you call yourself unloved and repugnant, and me gracious to everyone but you.… Repugnant and unloved you can never be. I believe that you love me, though quite often your words lack any trace of love. Who desires your peace and tranquility more than I?
In May 1776, Potemkin replied to a letter from her regarding a lack of oversight in the Preobrazhensky Guards. Her letter had spoken of a “blind eye” being turned to the affairs of the regiment. Deeply offended by her probably unintended reference to his physical defect, Potemkin replied:
Your Most Gracious Majesty, when I direct my sight in any direction, then it’s not with a blind eye. I renounce any position in which matters will be removed from my oversight. However, should my talents and desire at some time cease, then someone better can be selected to which I shall readily and fully consent.
Catherine responded:
I read your letter.… For God’s sake, come to your senses.… Is it not in your power to do away with this discord? Even the opinion of the foolish public depends on whatever respect you intend to give this matter.
To Catherine, Potemkin now always seemed angry, whereas the theme running through her letters was her desire for peace and harmony. There were moments of reconciliation and assurances of continued affection. Over time, however, she wearied of Potemkin’s outbursts. Eventually, she reached the point where she warned that if he did not change his behavior, she would have no choice but to withdraw her love—as a means of self-preservation. She was simply too fatigued by the never-ending quarrels. She had sought in Potemkin a refuge from the pressures and loneliness of exercising power, but now their relationship had become another burden. His bad-tempered anger had started to take on a public face. He had begun talking to his relatives, even describing his fights with Catherine. She wrote to him:
To present this comedy to society is highly regrettable for it’s a triumph for your enemies and mine. I did not know till now that they were so thoroughly informed of what goes on between us. I have no confidant in matters that concern you for I honor our secrets and do not disclose them to anyone for discussion.… I repeat and have repeated this to you a hundred times: stop your raging so that my natural tenderness might return, otherwise you will be the death of me.
Potemkin replied:
Matushka, here is the result of your agreeable treatment of me over the past several days. I clearly see your inclination to get along with me. But you have let things go so far that it is becoming impossible for you to be kind to me. I came here to see you since without you life is tedious and unbearable. I noticed that you were incommoded by my arrival. I do not know whom or what you are trying to please; I only know that it is not necessary and to no purpose. It seems to me you have never before been so ill at ease. Your Most Gracious Majesty, I shall go through fire for you. But if it has finally been decided that I am to be banished from you, then at least let it not be before the entire public. I do not tarry to withdraw, although this is equal to losing my life.
