Noble creature! but not implacable, I hope!—­Promise me but to return in an hour!

Nothing will I promise thee!

Say but that you will see me again this evening!

O that I could say—­that it were in my power to say—­I never will see thee more!—­Would to Heaven I never were to see thee more!

Passionate beauty!—­still holding her—­

I speak, though with vehemence, the deliberate wish of my heart.—­O that I could avoid looking down upon thee, mean groveler, and abject as insulting—­Let me withdraw!  My soul is in tumults!  Let we [sic] withdraw!

I quitted my hold to clasp my hands together—­Withdraw, O sovereign of my fate!—­Withdraw, if you will withdraw!  My destiny is in your power!—­It depends upon your breath!—­Your scorn but augments my love!  Your resentment is but too well founded!—­But, dearest creature, return, return, return, with a resolution to bless with pardon and peace your faithful adorer!

She flew from me.  The angel, as soon as she found her wings, flew from me.  I, the reptile kneeler, the despicable slave, no more the proud victor, arose; and, retiring, tried to comfort myself, that, circumstanced as she is, destitute of friends and fortune; her uncle moreover, who is to reconcile all so soon, (as I thank my stars she still believes,) expected.

O that she would forgive me!—­Would she but generously forgive me, and receive my vows at the altar, at the instant of her forgiving me, that I might not have time to relapse into my old prejudices!  By my soul, Belford, this dear girl gives the lie to all our rakish maxims.  There must be something more than a name in virtue!—­I now see that there is!—­ Once subdued, always subdued—­’Tis an egregious falsehood!—­But, O Jack, she never was subdued.  What have I obtained but an increase of shame and confusion!—­While her glory has been established by her sufferings!

This one merit is, however, left me, that I have laid all her sex under obligation to me, by putting this noble creature to trials, which, so gloriously supported, have done honour to them all.

However—­But no more will I add—­What a force have evil habits!—­I will take an airing, and try to fly from myself!—­Do not thou upbraid me on my weak fits—­on my contradictory purposes—­on my irresolution—­and all will be well.

LETTER XXX

Mr. Lovelace, to John Belford, ESQ. 
Wednesday night.

A man is just now arrived from M. Hall, who tells me, that my Lord is in a very dangerous way.  The gout in his stomach to an extreme degree, occasioned by drinking a great quantity of lemonade.

A man of 8000L. a year to prefer his appetite to his health!—­He deserves to die!—­But we have all of us our inordinate passions to gratify:  and they generally bring their punishment along with them—­so witnesses the nephew, as well as the uncle.