LETTER XXVIII
O Biddy Grimes, I am poisoned! That fatal draught last night—why did I drink it?—I am in dreadful agony. When this reaches you, all will be over.—But I would not die without letting you know.
Farewell for ever, my poor Biddy!
I bequeath you all my ornaments.
LETTER XXIX
Yes, my friend, you may well stare at receiving another letter from me; and at hearing that I have not been poisoned in the least!
I must unfold the mystery. When I woke this morning, after my nocturnal perambulation, I found my limbs so stiff, and such pains in all my bones, that I was almost unable to move. Judge of my horror and despair; for it instantly flashed across my mind, that Lady Gwyn had poisoned me! My whole frame underwent a sudden revulsion; I grew sick, and rang the bell with violence; nor ceased an instant, till half the servants, and Lady Gwyn herself, had burst into my chamber.
'If you have a remnant of mercy left,' cried I, 'send for a doctor!'
'What is the matter, my dear,' said her ladyship.
'Only that you have poisoned me, my dear,' cried I. 'Dear, indeed! I presume your ladyship imagines, that the liberty you have taken with my life, authorizes all other freedoms. Oh, what will become of me!'