The Colonel, against the surgeons’ advice, would mount on horseback to pass into the Venetian territories; and generously gave me a purse of gold to pay the surgeons; desiring me to make a present to the footman; and to accept of the remainder, as a mark of his satisfaction in my conduct, and in my care and tenderness of my master.

The surgeons told him that my chevalier could not live over the day.

When the Colonel took leave of him, Mr. Lovelace said, You have well revenged the dear creature.

I have, Sir, said Mr. Morden; and perhaps shall be sorry that you called upon me to this work, while I was balancing whether to obey, or disobey, the dear angel.

There is a fate in it! replied my chevalier—­a cursed fate!—­or this could not have been!—­But be ye all witnesses, that I have provoked my destiny, and acknowledge that I fall by a man of honour.

Sir, said the Colonel, with the piety of a confessor, (wringing Mr. Lovelace’s hand,) snatch these few fleeting moments, and commend yourself to God.

And so he rode off.

The voiture proceeded slowly with my chevalier; yet the motion set both his wounds bleeding afresh; and it was with difficulty they again stopped the blood.

We brought him alive to the nearest cottage; and he gave orders to me to dispatch to you the packet I herewith send sealed up; and bid me write to you the particulars of this most unhappy affair:  and give you thanks, in his name, for all your favours and friendship to him.

Contrary to all expectation, he lived over the night:  but suffered much, as well from his impatience and disappointment, as from his wounds; for he seemed very unwilling to die.

He was delirious, at times, in the two last hours:  and then several times cried out, as if he had seen some frightful spectre, Take her away!  Take her away! but named nobody.  And sometimes praised some lady, (that Clarissa, I suppose, whom he had invoked when he received his death’s wound,) calling her Sweet Excellence!  Divine Creature!  Fair Sufferer!—­ And once he said, Look down, Blessed Spirit, look down!—­And there stopt; —­his lips, however, moving.

At nine in the morning he was seized with convulsions, and fainted away; and it was a quarter of an hour before he came out of them.

His few last words I must not omit, as they show an ultimate composure; which may administer some consolation to his honourable friends.

Blessed—­said he, addressing himself no doubt to Heaven; for his dying eyes were lifted up—­a strong convulsion prevented him for a few moments saying more—­but recovering, he again, with great fervour, (lifting up his eyes, and his spread hands,) pronounced the word blessed:  Then, in a seeming ejaculation, he spoke inwardly, so as not to be understood:  at last, he distinctly pronounced these three words,

      Let this expiate!