Everything was arranged in a week for my accompanying Worcester to Spain. My female attendant was hired and my trunks nearly ready; but, as new objections continually offered themselves to this plan, Worcester was reduced almost to despair, and looked so miserably ill that everybody he met made the observation. The army was not expected to be stationary. If I remained at Lisbon, I should see no more of him than by remaining in London. The misery and expense and privations, perhaps insults, I must endure, in my attempt to follow the army could scarcely be surmounted; and Worcester could not deny that I should make a coward of him; that fight he could not, supposing I might be suffering under sickness or difficulty. At last, it was finally decided, between us, as a thing impossible. We must then be separated for one year, since there is no remedy; "but," said Worcester, "I shall declare to my father, that at the end of that time we will part no more. He has implored me to make a trial of a year's absence, and I have consented; but, in twelve months from the day I leave you, supposing I am not on my road to join you in England, remember you are to come to me." This I promised, should the thing be practicable. At all events, no power on earth, he solemnly vowed and declared a thousand times over, and as solemnly wrote it down, that neither man nor devil should separate us longer than twelve months, during which time my last kiss was to be virgined on his true lip. "If ever you prove false to me, or I to you, let all inconstant men be called Ponders, and all false women, Cressids," said Worcester, or he ought to have said so. In short, he spoke to this effect, only he spoke more strongly; for, in his zeal, I believe, he hoped we might both go where he had sent Will Haught, if ever we were inconstant; and, yet, he was leaving his beloved, surrounded with spies and flatterers of the duke, in the gay city of London. "Never mind, my love," said I, "for, if my residing in the metropolis makes you miserable, I'll go and bury my wonderful charms in a village and so immortalise it for ever!" But Worcester declared that all the comfort he was capable of feeling at that moment, was my honour. "_Mais, ne sais-tu pas que je l'ai perdu?_" I inquired. "_N'importe. Si je place ma confiance, mon ange! c'est en toi,_" said Worcester. * * * * *