fit of an ague he has got, that the next charm cures, yet he will be apt
to fall into it again upon a new occasion, and one knows not how it may
work upon his thin body if it comes too often; it spoiled his beauty,
sure, before I knew him, for I could never see it, or else (which is as
likely) I do not know it when I see it; besides that, I never look for
it in men. It was nothing that I expected made me refuse these, but
something that I feared; and, seriously, I find I want courage to marry
where I do not like. If we should once come to disputes I know who would
have the worst on't, and I have not faith enough to believe a doctrine
that is often preach'd, which is, that though at first one has no
kindness for _them_, yet it will grow strongly after marriage. Let them
trust to it that think good; for my part, I am clearly of opinion (and
shall die in't), that, as the more one sees and knows a person that one
likes, one has still the more kindness for them, so, on the other side,
one is but the more weary of, and the more averse to, an unpleasant
humour for having it perpetually by one. And though I easily believe
that to marry one for whom we have already some affection will
infinitely increase that kindness, yet I shall never be persuaded that
marriage has a charm to raise love out of nothing, much less out of
dislike.

This is next to telling you what I dreamed and when I rise, but you have
promised to be content with it. I would now, if I could, tell you when I
shall be in town, but I am engaged to my Lady Diana Rich, my Lord of
Holland's daughter (who lies at a gentlewoman's hard by me for sore
eyes), that I will not leave the country till she does. She is so much a
stranger here, and finds so little company, that she is glad of mine
till her eyes will give her leave to look out better. They are mending,
and she hopes to be at London before the end of this next term; and so
do I, though I shall make but a short stay, for all my business there is