-woe, woe is
me!

"My pen has had a long rest, for meseemed I saw first Petrarca's lady
with her fair braids, and then Ann with her black hair, which shone with
such lustrous, soft waves, and lay so nobly on the snow-white brow. Her
eyes and mien are verily those of Laura; both alike pure and lofty.
But here my full heart over-flows; it cannot forget how far Ann exceeds
Laura in sweet woman's grace.

"Day is breaking, and I can but sigh forth to the morning: 'Lost, lost!
I have lost the fairest and the best!'

"Then I sat long, sunk in thought, looking out of window, across the
bare tree-tops in the garden, at the grey mist which seems as though it
ended only at the edge of the world. It drips from the leafless boughs,
and mine eyes--I need not hide it--will not be kept dry. It is as though
the leaves from the tree of my life had all dropped on the ground--nay,
as though my own guilty hand had torn them from the stem."

"I have but now come home from a right merry company! It is of a truth a
merciful fashion which turns night into day. Yes, Margery, for one
whose first desire is to forget many matters, this Paris is a place of
delight. I have drunk deep of the wine-cup, but I would call any man
villain who should say that I am drunk. Can I not write as well as ever
another--and this I know, that if I sold myself it was not cheap. It
has cost me my love, and whereas it was great the void is great to
fill. Wherefore I say: 'Bring hither all that giveth joy, wine and
love-making, torches and the giddy dame in velvet and silk, dice and
gaming, and mad rides, the fresh greenwood and bloody frays!' Is this
nothing? Is it even a trivial thing?

"How, when all is said and done, shall we answer the question as to
which is the better lot: heavenly love, soaring on white swan's wings
far above all that is common dust, as Ann was wont to sing of it, or
earthly joys, bold and free, which we can know only with both feet on
the clod?

"I have made choice and can never turn back. Long life to every
pleasure, call it by what name you will! You have a gleeful, rich, and
magnificent brother, little Margery; and albeit the simple lad of old,
who chose to wife the daughter of a poor clerk, may have been dearer to
you--as he was to my own heart--yet love him still! Of his love you are
ever sure; remember him in your prayers; and as for that you have to
say to Ann, say it in such wise that she shall not take it over much to
heart. Sho