“I have, in little, much to say to you, or else one of us must be much to blame. But in truth I have that confidence in you, and that assurance in myself, as to rest secure the fault will never be made on either side. Well, then; this short and this long which I aim at is no more than to give you this first written testimony that I am your husband; and that husband of yours that will ever discharge these duties of love and respect toward you which good women may expect, and are justly due from good men to discharge them; and this is not only much, but all which belongs to me; and wherein I shall tread out the remainder of life which is left to me——”
Strafford looked up from his perusal, blank amazement upon his countenance.
“How came you by this paper?”
“I found it among the documents left by my grandfather, who died a year ago. It was sent by you to my mother.”
“Impossible.”
“Do you deny the script?”
“I do not deny it, but ’t was written by me eight years since, and presented to my third wife, whom I married privately.”
“Your third wife? Who was she?”
“She was Mistress Elizabeth Rhodes, and is now Lady Strafford.”
“Then she is your fourth wife. You will see by your own inditing that this letter was written in March, 1624.”