you will believe me to be, to my last hour, and beyond it, if possible,
my beloved friend, and my dearer self (for what is now myself!)

Your obliged and affectionate
CLARISSA HARLOWE.



LETTER III

MR. LOVELACE, TO JOHN BELFORD, ESQ.
FRIDAY, JULY 7.


I have three of thy letters at once before me to answer; in each of which
thou complainest of my silence; and in one of them tallest me, that thou
canst not live without I scribble to thee every day, or every other day
at least.

Why, then, die, Jack, if thou wilt. What heart, thinkest thou, can I
have to write, when I have lost the only subject worth writing upon?

Help me again to my angel, to my CLARISSA; and thou shalt have a letter
from me, or writing at least part of a letter, every hour. All that the
charmer of my heart shall say, that will I put down. Every motion, every
air of her beloved person, every look, will I try to describe; and when
she is silent, I will endeavour to tell thee her thoughts, either what
they are, or what I would have them to be--so that, having her, I shall
never want a subject. Having lost her, my whole soul is a blank: the
whole creation round me, the elements above, beneath, and every thing I