29.  I am plagued with these pains in my shoulder; I believe it is rheumatic; I will do something for it to-night.  Mr. Lewis and I dined with Mr. Domville, to take our leave of him.  I drank three or four glasses of champagne by perfect teasing, though it is bad for my pain; but if it continue, I will not drink any wine without water till I am well.  The weather is abominably cold and wet.  I am got into bed, and have put some old flannel, for want of new, to my shoulder, and rubbed it with Hungary water.[13] It is plaguy hard.  I never would drink any wine, if it were not for my head, and drinking has given me this pain.  I will try abstemiousness for a while.  How does MD do now; how does DD and Ppt?  You must know I hate pain, as the old woman said.  But I’ll try to go seep.  My flesh sucks up Hungary water rarely.  My man is an awkward rascal, and makes me peevish.  Do you know that t’other day he was forced to beg my pardon, that he could not shave my head, his hand shook so?  He is drunk every day, and I design to turn him off soon as ever I get to Ireland.  I’ll write no more now, but go to sleep, and see whether sleep and flannel will cure my shoulder.  Nite deelest MD.

30.  I was not able to go to church or Court to-day for my shoulder.  The pain has left my shoulder, and crept to my neck and collar-bone.  It makes me think of poo Ppt’s bladebone.  Urge, urge, urge; dogs gnawing.  I went in a chair at two, and dined with Mrs. Van, where I could be easy, and came back at seven.  My Hungary water is gone; and to-night I use spirits of wine, which my landlady tells me is very good.  It has rained terribly all day long, and is extremely cold.  I am very uneasy, and such cruel twinges every moment!  Nite deelest MD.

31.  April 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8.  All these days I have been extremely ill, though I twice crawled out a week ago; but am now recovering, though very weak.  The violence of my pain abated the night before last:  I will just tell you how I was, and then send away this letter, which ought to have gone Saturday last.  The pain increased with mighty violence in my left shoulder and collar-bone, and that side my neck.  On Thursday morning appeared great red spots in all those places where my pain was, and the violence of the pain was confined to my neck behind, a little on the left side; which was so violent that I had not a minute’s ease, nor hardly a minute’s sleep in three days and nights.  The spots increased every day, and bred little pimples, which are now grown white, and full of corruption, though small.  The red still continues too, and most prodigious hot and inflamed.  The disease is the shingles.  I eat nothing but water-gruel; am very weak; but out of all violent pain.  The doctors say it would have ended in some violent disease if it had not come out thus.  I shall now recover fast.  I have been in no danger of life, but miserable torture.  I must not write too much.  So adieu, deelest MD MD MD FW FW, me me me, Lele.  I can say lele yet, oo see.  Fais, I don’t conceal a bit, as hope saved.[14]