her, O _Lucretia_! Your Brother! Where's your Brother?--O
my Son! the Delight, Comfort, and Pride of my Old Age! Why dost thou fly
me? Then answering as for young _Hardyman_, (said he) you struck me
publickly before much Company, in the Face of my Companions.--Come,
(reply'd he for himself) 'Twas Passion, _Miles_, 'twas Passion; Youth is
guilty of many Errors, and shall not Age be allow'd their Infirmities?
_Miles_, thou know'st I love thee.--Love thee above Riches or long
Life.--O! Come to my Arms, dear Fugitive, and make Haste to preserve
his, who gave thee thy Life!--Thus he went raving about the Room, whilst
the sorrowful, compassionate Ladies express'd their Grief in Tears.
After this loving Fit was over with him, he would start out in a
contrary Madness, and threaten his Son with the greatest and the
heaviest Punishment he could imagine; insomuch, that the young Ladies,
who had Thoughts before of perswading _Lewis_ to inform Sir _Harry_
which Way his Son rode, were now afraid of proposing any such Thing to
him. Dinner was at last serv'd in, to which _Diana_ with much Difficulty
prevail'd with him to sit. Indeed, neither he, nor any there present,
had any great Appetite to eat; their Grief had more than satiated 'em.
About five a-Clock, _Albert_ signify'd to the Knight, that he might then
most conveniently speak with his Master; but he begg'd that he would not
disturb him beyond half a Quarter of an Hour: He went up therefore to
him, follow'd by the young Lady and the Aunt: _Lewis_ was the first that
spoke, who, putting his Hand a little out of the Bed, said with a Sigh,
Sir _Henry_, I hope you will pity a great Misfortune, and endeavour to
pardon me, who was the greatest Occasion of it; which has doubly
punish'd me in these Wounds, and in the Loss of that Gentleman's
Conversation, whose only Friendship I would have courted. Heaven pardon
you both the Injuries done to one another; (return'd the Knight)
I grieve to see you thus, and the more, when I remember my self that
'twas done by my Son's unlucky Hand. Would he were here.--So would not I
(said _Lewis_) 'till I am assur'd my Wound is not mortal, which I have
some Reasons to believe it is not. Let me beg one Favour of you, Sir,
(said Sir _Henry_) I beseech you do not deny me. It must be a very
difficult Matter that you, Sir, shall not command of me, (reply'd
_Constance_.) It can't be difficult to you to tell me, or to command
your Servant to let me know what Road m