reflect upon you as to express my
own grief; though your conscience I suppose, will make you think
otherwise.

Your poor fellow, who says that he begs for his life, in desiring to be
dispatched back with a letter, tears this from me--else, perhaps, (for
I am just sent for down,) a quarter of an hour would make you--not easy
indeed--but certain--and that, in a state like your's, to a mind like
your's, is a relief.

THURSDAY AFTERNOON, FOUR O'CLOCK.

LETTER III

MR. BELFORD, TO RICHARD MOWBRAY, ESQ.
THURSDAY AFTERNOON.

DEAR MOWBRAY,

I am glad to hear you are in town. Throw yourself the moment this comes
to your hand, (if possible with Tourville,) in the way of the man who
least of all men deserves the love of the worthy heart; but most that of
thine and Tourville; else the news I shall most probably send him within
an hour or two, will make annihilation the greatest blessing he has to
wish for.

You will find him between Piccadilly and Kensington, most probably on
horseback, riding backwards and forwards in a crazy way; or put up,
perhaps, at some inn or tavern in the way--a waiter possibly, if so,
watching for his servant's return to him from me.

***

His man Will. is just come to me. He will carry this to you in his way
back, and be your director. Hie away in a coach, or any how. Your being
with him may save either his or a servant's life. See the blessed
effects of triumphant libertinism! Sooner or later it comes home to us,
and all concludes in gall and bitterness!

Adieu.
J. BELFORD.

LETTER IV

MR. LOVELACE, TO JOHN BELFORD, ESQ.

Curse upon the Colonel, and curse upon the writer of the last letter I
received, and upon all the world! Thou to pretend to be as much
interested in my Clarissa's fate as myself!--'Tis well for one of us that
this was not said to me, instead of written.--Living or dying, she is
mine--and only mine. Have I not earned her dearly?--Is not d----n----n
likely to be the purchase to me, though a happy eternity will be her's?

An eternal separation!--O God! O God!--How can I bear that thought!--But
yet there is life!--Yet, therefore, hope--enlarge my hope, and thou shalt
be my good genius, and I will forgive thee every thing.

For this last time--but it must not, shall not be the last--Let me hear,
the moment thou receivest this--what I am to be--for, at present, I am

The most miserable of Men.

ROSE, AT KNIGHTSBRIDGE, FIVE O'CLOCK.

My fell