nly upon me; or, if I cannot, I can die;
but I would fain die innocent, that I might hope to be happy in the next
world, though never in this. I take it a little ill that you should
conjure me by anything, with a belief that 'tis more powerful with me
than your kindness. No, assure yourself what that alone cannot gain will
be denied to all the world. You would see me, you say? You may do so if
you please, though I know not to what end. You deceive yourself if you
think it would prevail upon me to alter my intentions; besides, I can
make no contrivances; it must be here, and I must endure the noise it
will make, and undergo the censures of a people that choose ever to give
the worst interpretation that anything will bear. Yet if it can be any
ease to you to make me more miserable than I am, never spare me;
consider yourself only, and not me at all,--'tis no more than I deserve
for not accepting what you offered me whilst 'twas in your power to make
it good, as you say it then was. You were prepared, it seems, but I was
surprised, I confess. 'Twas a kind fault though; and you may pardon it
with more reason than I have to forgive it myself. And let me tell you
this, too, as lost and as wretched as I am, I have still some sense of
my reputation left in me,--I find that to my cost,--I shall attempt to
preserve it as clear as I can; and to do that, I must, if you see me
thus, make it the last of our interviews. What can excuse me if I should
entertain any person that is known to pretend to me, when I can have no
hope of ever marrying him? And what hope can I have of that when the
fortune that can only make it possible to me depends upon a thousand
accidents and contingencies, the uncertainty of the place 'tis in, and
the government it may fall under, your father's life or his success, his
disposal of himself and of his fortune, besides the time that must
necessarily be required to produce all this, and the changes that may
probably bring with it, which 'tis impossible for us to foresee? All
this considered, what have I to say for myself when people shall ask,
what 'tis I expect? Can there be anything vainer than such a hope upon
such grounds? You must needs see the folly on't yourself, and therefore
examine your own heart what 'tis fit for me to do, and what you can do
for a person you love, and that deserves your compassion if nothing
else,--a person that will always have an inviolable friendship for you,
a friendship that sha