SIR,--Your last letter came like a pardon to one upon the block. I had
given over the hopes on't, having received my letters by the other
carrier, who was always [wont] to be last. The loss put me hugely out of
order, and you would have both pitied and laughed at me if you could
have seen how woodenly I entertained the widow, who came hither the day
before, and surprised me very much. Not being able to say anything, I
got her to cards, and there with a great deal of patience lost my money
to her;--or rather I gave it as my ransom. In the midst of our play, in
comes my blessed boy with your letter, and, in earnest, I was not able
to disguise the joy it gave me, though one was by that is not much your
friend, and took notice of a blush that for my life I could not keep
back. I put up the letter in my pocket, and made what haste I could to
lose the money I had left, that I might take occasion to go fetch some
more; but I did not make such haste back again, I can assure you. I took
time enough to have coined myself some money if I had had the art on't,
and left my brother enough to make all his addresses to her if he were
so disposed. I know not whether he was pleased or not, but I am sure I
was.

You make so reasonable demands that 'tis not fit you should be denied.
You ask my thoughts but at one hour; you will think me bountiful, I
hope, when I shall tell you that I know no hour when you have them not.
No, in earnest, my very dreams are yours, and I have got such a habit of
thinking of you that any other thought intrudes and proves uneasy to me.
I drink your health every morning in a drench that would poison a horse
I believe, and 'tis the only way I have to persuade myself to take it.
'Tis the infusion of steel, and makes me so horridly sick, that every
day at ten o'clock I am making my will and taking leave of all my