 Bathing the hands he grasped, with precious drops of tenderness and anguish, he held them alter∣nately to his lips and heart.—What was the distraction of my soul at that mo∣ment?—Inexorably to refuse was the hard duty imposed by my reason, while my soul even melted with fondness. But the fear that I should entail misfortune on the dear choice of my heart; obscure at once the brilliant fortune which seemed to spread before his youthful steps, and track them perhaps with blood; a just remem∣brance of the severe censure I had passed on your conduct, under circumstances not less trying, and a conviction that such a compliance would infallibly endanger your safety, made me resolve to act up to my sense of rectitude, at whatever price. I collected these reasons, and many more, which have now escaped my mind, to prepare Essex for a disappointment, I was sure he would feel but too sensibly; and strove to reconcile him to the refusal, by convincing him his own welfare was the chief cause of it. Perhaps, in truth, it

was; for hardly can the sun tinge the dew-drops with more various hues, than the soul will cast upon its feelings. I a thou∣sand times assured him, "that to be the sole object of his heart, did not give me more pleasure, than to see him the admi∣ration of the kingdom. The happy pro∣mise of his youth, I added, had centered every eye, and every hope in him. What then would be my grief and disappoint∣ment, if the coming years which ought to crown him with glory, were to bury him in obscurity, or steep him in sorrow—that nature had formed me with a strength of mind to view every situation in its true light; nor could I comprize all human passions in love, though I thought it, perhaps, the leading one. Fill up the interval of our separation, my Lord, cried I, with a long succession of such heroic actions, as may give to our union, whenever Heaven permits it, the only happiness not comprized in itself—the sacred sense of having deserved it. Nor shall the gentler virtues of my sex be wanting; time, patience, and fortitude,

often conquer fate herself; nor will I ever yield to Lord Leicester, an obedience I do not owe him, though for my sister's sake I shall condescend to temporize, in instances of less importance. Plighted to you by every tye, the rites of the church could only ratify a claim, which will from this moment make my accep∣tance of another, an adultery of the worst kind
