it may be, who can tell?

Here, only recapitulating, (think, then, how I must be affected at the
time,) I was forced to leave off, and sing a song to myself. I aimed at
a lively air; but I croaked rather than sung. And fell into the old
dismal thirtieth of January strain; I hemmed up for a sprightlier note;
but it would not do; and at last I ended, like a malefactor, in a dead
psalm melody.

Heigh-ho!--I gape like an unfledged kite in its nest, wanting to swallow
a chicken, bobbed at its mouth by its marauding dam!--

What a-devil ails me?--I can neither think nor write!

Lie down, pen, for a moment!

LETTER XXII

MR. LOVELACE, TO JOHN BELFORD, ESQ.

There is certainly a good deal in the observation, that it costs a man
ten times more pains to be wicked, than it would cost him to be good. What
a confounded number of contrivances have I had recourse to, in order
to carry my point with this charming creature; and yet after all, how
have I puzzled myself by it; and yet am near tumbling into the pit which
it was the end of all my plots to shun! What a happy man had I been with
such an excellence, could I have brought my mind to marry when I first
prevailed upon her to quit her father's house! But then, as I have often
reflected, how had I known, that a but blossoming beauty, who could carry
on a private correspondence, and run such risques with a notorious wild
fellow, was not prompted by inclination, which one day might give such a
free-liver as myself as much pain to reflect upon, as, at the time it
gave me pleasure? Thou rememberest the host's tale in Ariosto. And thy
experience, as well as mine, can furnish out twenty Fiametta's in proof
of the imbecility of the sex.

But to proceed with my narrative.

The dear creature resumed the topic her heart was so firmly fixed upon;
and insisted upon quitting the odious house, and that in very high terms.

I urged her to meet me the next day at the altar in either of the two
churches mentioned in the license. And I besought her, whatever was her
resolution, to let me debate this matter calmly with her.

If, she said, I would have her give what I desired the least moment's
consideration, I must not hinder her from being her own mistress. To
what purpose did I ask her consent, if she had not a power over either
her own person or actions?

Will you give me your honour, Madam, if I consent to your quitting a
house so disagreeable to you?--

My honour,