night—have not eat or drunk all day thro’ vexation of heart at a couple of ungrateful unfeeling Letters from that Quarter, from whence, had it pleased God, I should have look’d for all my Comforts—but he has will’d they shd. come from the east—& he knows how I am satisfyed with all his Dispensations—but with none, my dear Bramine, so much as this—with wch. Cordial upon my Spirits—I go to bed, in hopes of seeing thee in my Dreams.
July 8th.
—eating my fowl, and my trouts & my cream & my strawberries, as melancholly as a Cat; for want of you—by the by, I have got one which sits quietly besides me, purring all day to my sorrows—& looking up gravely from time to time in my face, as if she knew my Situation.—how soothable my heart is Eliza, when such little things sooth it! for in some pathetic sinkings I feel even some support from this poor Cat—I attend to her purrings—& think they harmonize me—they are pianissimo at least, & do not disturb me.—poor Yorick! to be driven, wth. all his sensibilities, to these resources—all powerful Eliza, that has had this Magicl. authority over him; to bend him thus to the dust—But I’ll have my revenge, Hussy!
July 9. I have been all day making a sweet Pavilion in a retired Corner of my garden,—but my Partner & Companion & friend for whom I make it, is fled from me, & when she return to me again, Heaven who first brought us together, best knows—when that hour is foreknown what a Paradise will I plant for thee—till then I walk as Adam did whilst there was no help-meet found for it, and could almost wish a days Sleep would come upon me till that Moment When I can say as he did—“Behold the Woman Thou has given me for Wife.” She shall be call’d La Bramine. Indeed Indeed Eliza! my Life will be little better than a dream, till we approach nearer to each other—I live scarse conscious of my existence—or as if I wanted a vital part; & could not live above a few hours—& yet I live, & live, & live on, for thy Sake, and the sake of thy truth to me; which I measure by my own,—& I fight agst. every evil and every danger, that I may be able to support & shelter thee from danger and evil also.—upon my word, dear Girl, thou owest me much—but ’tis cruel to dun thee when thou art not in a condition to pay—I think Eliza has not run off in her Yoricks debt—
July 10.
I cannot suffer you to be longer upon the Water—in 10 days time, You shall be at Madrass—the element roles in my head as much as yrs., & I am sick at the sight & smell of it—for all this, my Eliza, I feel in Imagination & so strongly I can bear it no longer—on the 20th. therefore Inst. I begin to write to you as a terrestrial Being—I must deceive myself—& think so I will notwithstanding all that Lascelles has told me—but there is no truth in him.—I have just kiss’d yr. picture—even that sooths many an anxiety—I have found out the Body is too little for the head—it shall not be rectified, till I sit by the Original, & direct the Painter’s Pencil and that done, will take a Scamper to Enfield & see yr. dear children—if You tire by the Way, there are one or two places to rest at.—I never stand out. God bless thee—I am thine as ever