enclosed
copies of three letters; to two of which I am so much scorned as not to
have one word given me in answer; and of the third (now sent by the
messenger who brings thee this) I am afraid as little notice will be
taken--and if so, her day of grace is absolutely over.

One would imagine (so long used to constraint too as she has been) that
she might have been satisfied with the triumph she had over us all on
Friday night! a triumph that to this hour has sunk my pride and my vanity
so much, that I almost hate the words, plot, contrivance, scheme; and
shall mistrust myself in future for every one that rises to my inventive
head.

But seest thou not that I am under a necessity to continue her at
Sinclair's and to prohibit all her correspondencies?

Now, Belford, as I really, in my present mood, think of nothing less
than marrying her, if she let not Thursday slip, I would have thee attend
her, in pursuance of the intimation I have given her in my letter of this
date; and vow for me, swear for me, bind thy soul to her for my honour,
and use what arguments thy friendly heart can suggest, in order to
procure me an answer from her; which, as thou wilt see, she may give in
four words only. And then I purpose to leave Lord M. (dangerously ill as
he is,) and meet her at her appointed church, in order to solemnize. If
she will but sign Cl. H. to thy writing the four words, that shall do:
for I would not come up to be made a fool of in the face of all my family
and friends.

If she should let the day go off, I shall be desperate. I am entangled
in my own devices, and cannot bear that she should detect me.

O that I had been honest!--What a devil are all my plots come to! What
do they end in, but one grand plot upon myself, and a title to eternal
infamy and disgrace! But, depending on thy friendly offices, I will say
no more of this.--Let her send me but one line!--But one line!--To treat
me as unworthy of her notice;--yet be altogether in my power--I cannot--I
will not bear that.

My Lord, as I said, is extremely ill. The doctors give him over. He
gives himself over. Those who would not have him die, are afraid he will
die. But as to myself, I am doubtful: for these long and violent
struggles between the constitution and the disease (though the latter has
three physicians and an apothecary to help it forward, and all three, as
to their prescriptions, of different opinions too) indicate a plaguy
habit, and savour