I repent not.  But I am Troubled because of Richard who comes in the Night and looks at me, and asks, without anger, only with Sorrow, “Was it well done, Jessamine?” I answer, weeping; “Richard, it was to be.  You made me Love you, Richard, and you put me by.  For which Cause, and for that their Pride was beyond Bearing, did I pull down the Roof of Hynds House over their heads, and these my Hands did push you into your Grave.  But go you back to Sleep, my dearest Dear.  I shall Find mine Own Grave shortly, and then I shall be able to come closer to you.  When I am Dead, Richard, you will understand.”

Sometimes he will go, looking at me over his Sholder with Eyes so sad that for Pity I must weep mine own eyes Blind.  But sometimes he will say, in a Voice none may hear but me:  “Cruel, cruel Jessamine!  You shall not come near me even when you are Dead:  You shall be Farther from me than when we two walk’d Quick under the Sun.  Never, never did you truly Love me:  I know, the Dead being Wiser than the Living!  ’T is Emily Lov’d me truest.”

And oh, thou awful, far-off God, I cannot make him Understand!  And unless I can make him understand, I am lost!  My misery, my misery!  He will not listen.  I am dying of this thing!

Now did Shooba’s Death-in-Life come upon him once more, and for a day and a night he lay Stark.  And in the Sleep his Snake came and show’d him the untying of the Knot, and the Turning of the Keye.  In proof whereof Shooba took me by the hand & Show’d me the Watcher in the Darke.

     “Do but one thing more for me, old Shooba:  Put out the Fire
     in my Brain, Shooba, for I would Sleep.  And I would Sleep
     here, in Secret, where none but the Watcher may see.”

     For a while he ponder’d, Watching of me with still eyes.

     “Not good to stay awake too long.  You shall Sleep,” he said.

Last night he Brought me the Pinch of Powder that is an Open Door.  To what?  I know not.  But I go without Fear, because without Hope.  So shall I sleep in the secret Chamber, and it maybe I shall Dream that Richard lightly Lov’d and as lightly Left me.  Whereof Richard Died.  And, that Freeman thinks his Brother Guilty and a Thief:  A Hynds a Thief! so that Hynds House hangs Heavy above his head.  And that Emily begins to Hate Freeman, who Loves her.  She thinks he hath play’d Judas.  I shall have Pleasant dreams!

Never shall they Find where Shooba hid the Gems, between a night and a morning.  Never shall any look upon my face more, nor read what I have written, nor know what I have done.  I repent not, O God!  What I am I am, Not I but Thou hast created me!  Having liv’d mine own Life, I do die mine Own Death.

JESSAMINE HYNDS.