"Then let these lines warn you, and admonish you to ask
yourself more seriously than you have done hitherto whether it
is really possible for this man to satisfy your demands upon
life, to fill your heart, to understand and keep pace with you?
I, who know you better than any one else knows you, I declare
that this is not possible, and I pray you to open your eyes
before you are irrevocably bound. By marriage with this man you
condemn yourself to a life of loneliness and renunciation.
"You know this yourself. Does not your letter, written in the
first joy of your betrothal, speak of a 'want' in your
happiness? Your recalling of this word afterwards cannot
weaken its significance. In your inmost soul you feel that you
are about to take a wrong step, and the instinct of your heart,
which is 'beyond all reason,' warns you to pause.
"I shall never forgive myself for not being beside you to aid
this instinct. I could not but foresee what has happened. I
knew how it would be, and I left you in anger, with my
self-love grievously wounded, while it was my duty, as well as
my right, to say to you, 'You belong to me, and I will not
leave you.'
"I say this now, and my life will prove to you how seriously I
say it. If you persist in the wretched course which threatens
to separate us utterly, I vow solemnly to you, and to myself,
that you never again shall hear these words from me, but you
will find me whenever and however you may need me.
"It is my own fault that I have lost you. When I went to you at
your father's, and found that you had outgrown the atmosphere
of my father's house, I thrust you from me in wayward, boyish
folly, when I ought to have taken you in my arms and sought to
win you from all that estranged you from me.
"Why do I say this to you now? Because I would have you know me
thoroughly, and would set you an example of absolute
confidence. We human beings should lighten our trials greatly
if we shrank less from confessing to ourselves and to others
our errors, our defeats, our miscalculations. Let me hope that
you are free from the vanity and cowardice that would lead you
so to shrink. Do not close your eyes; and if you see that you
have been overhasty, redeem the error before it be too late.
Above all, do not fancy that you must hold to your plighted
troth for your betrothed's sake. As I know him, not all your
love can make him happy.
"Will you accuse me of harshness in saying this? Be it so. I
cannot look on with a feigned smile, or even in silence, when I
see you going to your destruction.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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