Every body blames him on this lady's account. But I see not for why.
She was a vixen in her virtue. What a pretty fellow she has ruined--Hey,
Jack!--and her relations are ten times more to blame than he. I will
prove this to the teeth of them all. If they could use her ill, why
should they expect him to use her well?--You, or I, or Tourville, in his
shoes, would have done as he has done. Are not all the girls forewarned?
--'Has he done by her as that caitiff Miles did to the farmer's daughter,
whom he tricked up to town, (a pretty girl also, just such another as
Bob.'s Rosebud,) under a notion of waiting on a lady?--Drilled her on,
pretending the lady was abroad. Drank her light-hearted--then carried
her to a play--then it was too late, you know, to see the pretended lady
--then to a bagnio--ruined her, as they call it, and all this the same
day. Kept her on (an ugly dog, too!) a fortnight or three weeks, then
left her to the mercy of the people of the bagnio, (never paying for any
thing,) who stript her of all her clothes, and because she would not take
on, threw her into prison; where she died in want and despair!'--A true
story, thou knowest, Jack.--This fellow deserved to be d----d. But has
our Bob. been such a villain as this?--And would he not have married this
flinty-hearted lady?--So he is justified very evidently.

Why, then, should such cursed qualms take him?--Who would have thought he
had been such poor blood? Now [rot the puppy!] to see him sit silent in a
corner, when he has tired himself with his mock majesty, and with his
argumentation, (Who so fond of arguing as he?) and teaching his shadow to
make mouths against the wainscot--The devil fetch me if I have patience
with him!

But he has had no rest for these ten days--that's the thing!--You must
write to him; and pr'ythee coax him, Jack, and send him what he writes
for, and give him all his way--there will be no bearing him else. And
get the lady buried as fast as you can; and don't let him know where.

This letter should have gone yesterday. We told him it did. But were in
hopes he would have inquired after it again. But he raves as he has not
any answer.

What he vouchsafed to read of other of your letters has given my Lord
such a curiosity as makes him desire you to continue your accounts. Pray
do; but not in your hellish Arabic; and we will let the poor fellow only
into what we think fitting for his present way.

I live a cursed dull