rce with that family, but have kept at
great distance, as having on several occasions been disobliged by them.
But of late, I know not how, Sir Sam has grown so kind as to send to me
for some things he desired out of this garden, and withal made the offer
of what was in his, which I had reason to take for a high favour, for he
is a nice florist; and since this we are insensibly come to as good
degrees of civility for one another as can be expected from people that
never meet.
Who those demoiselles should be that were at Heamses I cannot imagine,
and I know so few that are concerned in me or my name that I admire you
should meet with so many that seem to be acquainted with it. Sure, if
you had liked them you would not have been so sullen, and a less
occasion would have served to make you entertain their discourse if they
had been handsome. And yet I know no reason I have to believe that
beauty is any argument to make you like people; unless I had more on't
myself. But be it what it will that displeased you, I am glad they did
not fright you away before you had the orange-flower water, for it is
very good, and I am so sweet with it a days that I despise roses. When I
have given you humble thanks for it, I mean to look over your other
letter and take the heads, and to treat of them in order as my time and
your patience shall give me leave.
And first for my Sheriff, let me desire you to believe he has more
courage than to die upon a denial. No (thanks be to God!), none of my
servants are given to that; I hear of many every day that do marry, but
of none that do worse. My brother sent me word this week that my
fighting servant is married too, and with the news this ballad, which
was to be sung in the grave that you dreamt of, I think; but because you
tell me I shall not want company then, you may dispose of this piece of
poetry as you please when you have sufficiently admired with me where he
found it out, for 'tis much older than that of my "Lord of Lorne." You
are altogether in the right that my brother will never be at quiet till
he sees me disposed of, but he does not mean to lose me by it; he knows
that if I were married at this present, I should not be persuaded to
leave my father as long as he lives; and when this house breaks up, he
is resolved to follow me if he can, which he thinks he might better do
to a house where I had some power than where I am but upon courtesy
myself. Besides that, he thinks it would be t
|