e so good at raising doubts to persecute yourself withal, and shall
condemn my own easy faith no more; for me 'tis a better-natured and a
less fault to believe too much than to distrust where there is no cause.
If you were not so apt to quarrel, I would tell you that I am glad to
hear your journey goes forwarder, but you would presently imagine that
'tis because I would be glad if you were gone; need I say that 'tis
because I prefer your interest much before my own, because I would not
have you lose so good a diversion and so pleasing an entertainment (as
in all likelihood this voyage will be to you), and because the sooner
you go, the sooner I may hope for your return. If it be necessary, I
will confess all this, and something more, which is, that
notwithstanding all my gallantry and resolution, 'tis much for my credit
that my courage is put to no greater a trial than parting with you at
this distance. But you are not going yet neither, and therefore we'll
leave the discourse on't till then, if you please, for I find no great
entertainment in't. And let me ask you whether it be possible that Mr.
Grey makes love, they say he does, to my Lady Jane Seymour? If it were
expected that one should give a reason for their passions, what could he
say for himself? He would not offer, sure, to make us believe my Lady
Jane a lovelier person than my Lady Anne Percy. I did not think I should
have lived to have seen his frozen heart melted, 'tis the greatest
conquest she will ever make; may it be happy to her, but in my opinion
he has not a good-natured look. The younger brother was a servant, a
great while, to my fair neighbour, but could not be received; and in
earnest I could not blame her. I was his confidante and heard him make
his addresses; not that I brag of the favour he did me, for anybody
might have been so that had been as often there, and he was less
scrupulous in that point than one would have been that had had less
reason. But in my life I never heard a man say more, nor less to the
purpose; and if his brother have not a better gift in courtship, he will
owe my lady's favour to his fortune rather than to his address. My Lady
Anne Wentworth I hear is marrying, but I cannot learn to whom; nor is it
easy to guess who is worthy of her. In my judgment she is, without
dispute, the finest lady I know (one always excepted); not that she is
at all handsome, but infinitely virtuous and discreet, of a sober and
very different humour