Yet even your scorn would not perform the cure: it might indeed take off the edge of hope, but damned despair will gnaw my heart for ever. If then I am not odious to your eyes, if you have charity enough to value the well-being of a man that holds you dearer than you can the child your bowels are most fond of, by that sweet pledge of your first softest love, I charm and here conjure you to pity the distracting pangs of mine; pity my unquiet days and restless nights; pity the frenzy that has half possessed my brain already, and makes me write to you thus ravingly: the wretch in Bedlam is more at peace than I am; and if I must never possess the heaven I wish for, my next desire is (and the sooner the better) a clean-swept cell, a merciful keeper, and your compassion when you find me there. Think and be generous. LETTER III. Since you are going to quit the world[81] I think myself obliged, as a member of that world, to use the best of my endeavours to divert you from so ill-natured an inclination: therefore, by reason your visits will take up so much of this day, I have debarred myself the opportunity of waiting on you this afternoon, that I may take a time you are more mistress of, and when you shall have more leisure to hear, if it be possible for any arguments of mine to take place in a heart I am afraid too much hardened against me. I must confess it may look a little extraordinary for one under my circumstances to endeavour the confirming your good opinion of the world, when it had been much better for me, one of us had never seen it; for nature disposed me from my creation to love, and my ill-fortune has condemned me to dote on one who certainly could never have been deaf so long to so faithful a passion had nature disposed her from her creation to hate anything but me. I beg you to forgive this trifling, for I have so many thoughts of this nature that 'tis impossible for me to take pen and ink in my hand and keep them quiet, especially when I have the least pretence to let you know you are the cause of the severest disquiets that ever touched the heart of OTWAY. LETTER IV.