 effect!—tranquillity, health, reason all fled before it—to the evils fate im∣poses, however grievous, our nature in∣sensibly

accommodates itself, but oh, when the arrows of calamity are winged by love, and dipt in poison by friendship, the wounds they make always gangrene. The idea of deceit, ingratitude, and un∣kindness, irritated and preyed on me con∣tinually.—It brought on another Green∣land winter's night, which lasted many lingering months; and in recovering I seemed to acquire a new disposition.—I had lost with my equanimity all sweetness of temper—revenge seemed the only principle which supported my being, and I nourished a project in secret long ere I could bring it forward. Wonder not at this alteration, my sister, misfortune serves but to soften the soul, injury alone can render it callous. Ah, strange! that we should at the very moment imbibe the vice by which we suffer.
Lord Arlington early in the spring re∣visited St. Vincent's Abbey. My resent∣ments being levelled at a dear and distant object, I behaved towards him, when mistress of my intellects, with a melan∣choly graciousness which made him fancy

them restored; and propose taking me with him to London, when necessity obliged him to return. I acquiesced with readiness, as this was the very point to which I wished to bring him, and my unexpected compliance, flattering the egregious self-love that marked his cha∣racter, he was charmed with the effect, without examining into the cause. He was easily persuaded that decorum would demand my being presented at Court, and undertook to propose it to Elizabeth: while Lady Pembroke, amazed alike at all she heard, and all she saw, steadily op∣posed a project fraught with so many painful uncertainties. But it was the pas∣sion of Lord Arlington to mortify Essex, and conceiving that only in his power by presenting to his eyes, the dear object fa∣tal circumstances had robbed him of, and others yet more fatal had wedded to him∣self, he soon became as interested in my wish, as if his own heart had dictated it. The Queen heard it, as I foresaw, with surprize, and declined it with scorn; but she soon found I had skill enough to ma∣nage

even the fool she had selected for me; who persisted in quitting the Court if she denied him the compliment due to his birth. Elizabeth had now put her peace so far into his power, that she dared not entirely break with him, and fearful lest the black history hid in my heart should be published to the world, were she to urge her imprudent refusal, she at last reluctantly
