“I can listen no longer in silence. I must speak to you by such means as
are within my reach. You pierce my soul. I am half agony, half hope.
Tell me not that I am too late, that such precious feelings are gone for
ever. I offer myself to you again with a heart even more your own than
when you almost broke it, eight years and a half ago. Dare not say that
man forgets sooner than woman, that his love has an earlier death. I
have loved none but you. Unjust I may have been, weak and resentful I
have been, but never inconstant. You alone have brought me to Bath. For
you alone, I think and plan. Have you not seen this? Can you fail to
have understood my wishes? I had not waited even these ten days, could I
have read your feelings, as I think you must have penetrated mine. I
can hardly write. I am every instant hearing something which overpowers
me. You sink your voice, but I can distinguish the tones of that voice
when they would be lost on others. Too good, too excellent creature! You
do us justice, indeed. You do believe that there is true attachment and
constancy among men. Believe it to be most fervent, most undeviating,
in F. W.
I must go, uncertain of my fate; but I shall return
hither, or follow your party, as soon as possible. A word, a look, will
be enough to decide whether I enter your father's house this evening or
never.”
the swooniest, le sigh...
ReplyDeleteMy feelings exactly. :)
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