“For soe my owne eyes bid mee call you, whilst others happie in a neerer familiaritie intitle you wife, sister, sweetehart, chayce conceite or the like: give me leave in this rude paper to present my service, and humblie to begg a boone of you: ’Tis the felicitie of your place to bee neere the person of my honourable Lady; and ’tis not unknowne how lovelie and solitarie the countrie at this tyme is, soe tedious indeede to mee (whoe have ever lived among good companie) that longer than the springe I shall never be able to indur’t. My earnest suite to you therefore is, to solicite her honor in my behalfe that her Laᵖ will be pleased to graunte mee her favour to come upp to towne in Hide-park time. For (howe it comes about I cannot tell) I feele in my selfe a strange desire to be satisfied whether I shall injoye my love this yeare or noe; and I beelive your nightingales there, knowe more in the saye of love then ours at Wrest, by reason they have the advantage of being bred neere the Court. Yet I confesse the feare of war with the Scotts does not a litle trouble mee; for should all the young gallants goe for souldiers, howe shuld you and I doe for servants? (which, I take it, is all wee ladyes consider in that businesse) or whoe shuld attend us to that place of pleasure, which both of us soe jealouslie affect, that rather then be absent weele venture to committ the absurditie of going with our own husbands! You would not think how I long to see those French ladyes, Madam Mornay and Madam Daray, whose beauty has ariv’d to our eares, and those new starres of our English Court, Mrs. Harrison and Mrs. Vaughan. I remember when you and I last discourst of hansome woemen wee thought our penny as good silver as the best, nor will wee ever, if rul’d by mee, yeild precedence to anie. Let it not be grievous to enquire of you the newest fashions, whether they weare theire sleeves downe to the wrests still, the mode the Dutchesse of Chevereuse brought over, or whether they weare their neckes up; a fashion in which I confesse I love not my selfe; nor doe I hold her worthy of a faire necke, or any other good part, that is not free to showe it. I have a further request unto you, that wou’d bee pleas’d, when your owne occasions invite you to the Exchange, to buy mee halfe a dozen of white night coyfes which tye under the chinn, and as many white hoods to weare over um a dayes, when I’m not well; for truelie I endeavour as much to looke well by night as by daye; in the house as abroade; and (for I dare tell you any thing) I constantly dresse my selfe by my glasse when I goe to bed, least shou’d a gentleman peepe in my Chamber in the morning (and gentlemen, you knowe, sometymes will bee uncivill) I shou’d appeare to him, though not ill-favoured, yet lesse pleaseing. I cou’d wish my selfe with you, to ease you of this trouble, and with all to see the