LETTER LXIX

  MR. LOVELACE, TO JOHN BELFORD, ESQ.KENSINGTON, WEDNESDAY NOON.

  Like AEsop's traveller, thou blowest hot and cold, life and death, in thesame breath, with a view, no doubt, to distract me. How familiarly dostthou use the words, dying, dimness, tremor? Never did any mortal ring somany changes on so few bells. Thy true father, I dare swear, was abutcher, or an undertaker, by the delight thou seemest to take in scenesof death and horror. Thy barbarous reflection, that thou losest her notby thy own fault, is never to be forgiven. Thou hast but one way toatone for the torments thou hast given me, and that is, by sending meword that she is better, and will recover. Whether it be true or not,let me be told so, and I will go abroad rejoicing and believing it, andmy wishes and imaginations shall make out all the rest.

  If she live but one year, that I may acquit myself to myself (no matterfor the world!) that her death is not owing to me, I will compound forthe rest.

  Will neither vows nor prayers save her? I never prayed in my life, putall the years of it together, as I have done for this fortnight past: andI have most sincerely repented of all my baseness to her--And willnothing do?

  But after all, if she recovers not, this reflection must be my comfort;and it is truth; that her departure will be owing rather to wilfulness,to downright female wilfulness, than to any other cause.

  It is difficult for people, who pursue the dictates of a violentresentment, to stop where first they designed to stop.

  I have the charity to believe, that even James and Arabella Harlowe, atfirst, intended no more by the confederacy they formed against this theirangel sister, than to disgrace and keep her down, lest (sordid wretches!)their uncles should follow the example their grandfather had set, totheir detriment.

  So this lady, as I suppose, intended only at first to vex and plague me;and, finding she could do it to purpose, her desire of revenge insensiblybecame stronger in her than the desire of life; and now she is willing todie, as an event which she thinks will cut my heart-strings asunder. Andstill, the more to be revenged, puts on the Christian, and forgives me.

  But I'll have none of her forgiveness! My own heart tells me I do notdeserve it; and I cannot bear it!--And what is it but a mere verbalforgiveness, as ostentatiously as cruelly given with a view to magnifyherself, and wound me deeper! A little, dear, specious--but let me stop--lest I blaspheme!

  ***

  Reading over the above, I am ashamed of my ramblings; but what wouldesthave me do?--Seest thou not that I am but seeking to run out of myself,in hope to lose myself; yet, that I am unable to do either?

  If ever thou lovedst but half so fervently as I love--but of that thyheavy soul is not capable.

  Send me word by the next, I conjure thee, in the names of all her kindredsaints and angels, that she is living, and likely to live!--If thousendest ill news, thou wilt be answerable for the consequences, whetherit be fatal to the messenger, or to

  ThyLOVELACE.