“I write, madam, to bid you a last farewell. I am for the wars, from which my chance to return alive is one to a thousand; and _that one I will cast from me_. You will think at my age,--having so well proved my courage,--I might be let to sleep on my laurels. They will not have it so. They will have courage like charity; wherefore a man, to keep his good name, shall not give his groat to one or two beggars and rest niggard ever after. He must be giving to his death. All’s one for that. Duty to honour and my sovereign apart, I must to the wars, having naught left to live for save the earning a soldier’s grave. “I will speak the truth as a dying man speaks it, though it be to own himself villain. I have wronged you, but you know not how deeply. For eighteen years have I paid court to you--ever putting off our marriage upon some pretext, or earning your displeasure by some offence--but ever renewing the tie by fresh oaths and blandishments. _All this time, madam, I was a married man._ You knew it not--the world knew it not--but it was so. Blame me as you will, but pity me. As a headstrong youth, I contracted a foolish marriage with one who--well, she is no more; let her faults perish with her. “This woman has made me what I am: she has been my blight and ruin. I concealed her, like an ugly wound, down on my father’s old estate; and like a wound in the flesh did she prey upon my heart and purse; for Lollard, witch, worse, as I knew her to be, was she not my wife? Happily, we had no children. * * * * “Can you wonder then that without hope or aim in life--without a being to love me in the world--debarred from forming domestic ties, that the very hopelessness of my state should make me regard you with your beauty (it is sore faded now; I flatter not, you see), your loving heart and your tranquil home, as the fallen spirits must regard paradise? What could I do but hover round the celestial gates? And yet bitterly have I striven to be more than myself--more than mortal man. And here, suspect me not of the vanity of hoping to exculpate myself in your eyes, if I tell you things that may make you set down some of my offences to a cause less gross than you have done. Many a time, even when I have felt raised and purified by your love, have I sought to degrade myself in your esteem: that you might cast me from your heart. It has been at such times I have brought my riotous comrades to your house--have affronted your sober guests--have robbed you of your savings, and shown myself to you a sot, a glutton, a swash-buckler, and a cheat. Had you known the pangs it caused me! Well, well! I have omitted duties enough in my life, to be allowed the solace of remembering this one performed at--oh! how great a cost! * * * *