g her still folded hands in mine,] who can bear
an invocation so affecting, though so passionate?

And, as I hope to live, my nose tingled, as I once, when a boy, remember
it did (and indeed once more very lately) just before some tears came
into my eyes; and I durst hardly trust my face in view of her's.

What have I done to deserve this impatient exclamation?--Have I, at any
time, by word, by deeds, by looks, given you cause to doubt my honour, my
reverence, my adoration, I may call it, of your virtues? All is owing to
misapprehension, I hope, on both sides. Condescend to clear up but your
part, as I will mine, and all must speedily be happy.--Would to Heaven I
loved that Heaven as I love you! and yet, if I doubted a return in love,
let me perish if I should know how to wish you mine!--Give me hope,
dearest creature, give me but hope, that I am your preferable choice!--
Give me but hope, that you hate me not: that you do not despise me.

O Mr. Lovelace, we have been long enough together to be tired of each
other's humours and ways; ways and humours so different, that perhaps
you ought to dislike me, as much as I do you.--I think, I think, that I
cannot make an answerable return to the value you profess for me. My
temper is utterly ruined. You have given me an ill opinion of all
mankind; of yourself in particular: and withal so bad a one of myself,
that I shall never be able to look up, having utterly and for ever lost
all that self-complacency, and conscious pride, which are so necessary to
carry a woman through this life with tolerable satisfaction to herself.

She paused. I was silent. By my soul, thought I, this sweet creature
will at last undo me!

She proceeded: What now remains, but that you pronounce me free of all
obligation to you? and that you hinder me not from pursuing the destiny
that shall be allotted me?

Again she paused. I was still silent; meditating whether to renounce all
further designs upon her; whether I had not received sufficient evidence
of a virtue, and of a greatness of soul, that could not be questioned or
impeached.

She went on: Propitious to me be your silence, Mr. Lovelace!--Tell me,
that I am free of all obligation to you. You know, I never made you
promises. You know, that you are not under any to me.--My broken
fortunes I matter not--

She was proceeding--My dearest life, said I, I have been all this time,
though you fill me with doubts of your favour, busy in the n