mayhap, so verry soon too; espessially if she was to make the notable
landlady your Honner put into my head.

Butt wonce moer, begging your Honner's parden, and promissing all
dilligence and exsackness, I reste,

Your Honner's dewtiful sarvant to command,
JOSEPH LEMAN.



LETTER V

MR. LOVELACE, TO JOHN BELFORD, ESQ.
ST. ALBAN'S, MONDAY NIGHT.


I snatch a few moments while my beloved is retired, [as I hope, to rest,]
to perform my promise. No pursuit--nor have I apprehensions of any;
though I must make my charmer dread that there will be one.

And now, let me tell thee, that never was joy so complete as mine!--But
let me inquire, is not the angel flown away?


***


O no! She is in the next apartment!--Securely mine!--Mine for ever!