nderly over me, and holding in his hand a cordial, which, coming from
the still dear author of so much pain, I could not refuse; my eyes,
however, moistened with tears, and languishingly turned upon him, seemed
to reproach him with his cruelty, and ask him, if such were the rewards
of love. But Charles, to whom I was now infinitely endeared by his
complete triumph over a maidenhead, where he so little expected to find
one, in tenderness to that pain which he had put me to, in procuring
himself the height of pleasure, smothered his exultation, and employed
himself with so much sweetness, so much warmth, to sooth, to caress, and
comfort me in my soft complainings, which breathed, indeed, more love
than resentment, that I presently drowned all sense of pain in the
pleasure of seeing him, of thinking that I belonged to him: he who was
now the absolute disposer of my happiness, and, in one word, my fate.

The sore was, however, too tender, the wound too bleeding fresh, for
Charles's good-nature to put my patience presently to another trial; but
as I could not stir, or walk a-cross the room, he ordered the dinner
to be brought to the bed side, where it could not be otherwise than my
getting down the wing of a fowl, and two or three glasses of wine, since
it was my adored youth who both served, and urged them on me, with that
sweet irresistible authority with which love had invested him over me.

After dinner, and everything but the wine was taken away, Charles very
impudently asks a leave, he might read the grant of in my eyes, to come
to bed to me, and accordingly falls to undressing; which I could not see
the progress of without strange emotions of fear and pleasure.

He is now in bed with me the first time, and in broad day; but when
thrusting up his own shirt and my shift, he laid his naked glowing body
to mine... oh insupportable delight! oh! superhuman rapture! what pain
could stand before a pleasure so transporting? I felt no more the smart
of my wounds below; but, curling round him like the tendril of a vine,
as if I feared any part of him should be untouched or unpressed by me, I
returned his strenuous embraces and kisses with a fervour and gust only
known to true love, and which mere lust never rise to.

Yes, even at this time, that all the tyranny of the passions is fully
over, and that my veins roll no longer but a cold tranquil stream, the
remembrance of those passages that most affected me in my youth, still
c