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July - August 1780 from Delia
"…but you are truly loved. Forgive me oh my beloved, if I am
indiscreet, but I am oppressed with fears - fears which I felt
at Lorient -- and seeing your reluctance at discussing the
matter, I have never dared speak to you of it. I have been told
that neither you nor your crew have been paid. In the name of
all the love which consumes me, tell if I can help you. I have
diamonds and all sorts of jewelry; I will easily find money. To
give an order to your mistress is to make her happy and her
heart will fly to your support. Twenty times when I was in your
arms, I wanted to talk to you about this, but I was afraid to
displease you.
At the moment of leaving you at Hennebont, that cruel evening
when I thought I would leave you, and which turned out to be so
happy afterwards! At the time when you pressed me to receive
that object that you thought I needed, and which I could have
done without. How many times have I cursed the Chevalier, who
prevented me from seeing you for at least two hours, oh God! I
was counting every moment! Only the hope of being loved gave me
the strength to tear myself from you, but at the moment that I
lost sight of you I thought I would die of despair. You will
never know the horrible condition to which the sweetest of love
has reduced me: At the time of bidding you farewell, if you
only knew what I wanted to do, you would have been horrified.
Alas! I fear I will never see you again, and I wished to put an
end to all my suffering; death would have felt sweet when I left
your arms without hope of seeing you again. My dear and much
too adorable Jones, what wouldn't I give for you to stay a
little longer in France! Oh God, I am dying with the desire of
rejoining you, never to be separated. I feel this in the
wrenching of my soul, which seems to tell me that I will never
again be blessed with seeing you. Good heavens, Jones will
forget me, he will cease loving me, he will have the cruelty to
forget my passionate devotion. No, his great heart is not
capable of such cruelty, and I rely on it as much as I trust the
heavens.
Forgive, dear lover, this incoherent scrawl, but the
disarray of my heart pervades my thoughts. You are asking me to
have mercy on your adorable verses, Jones! your humility is so
dear to my heart. Never has a mortal less cause for it.
Everything about you is enchanting. Those charming verses that
describe so well your soul and your noble mind, Dear Jones you
make me cry a river of tears. You are unequalled in your
perfections and never has a man been so adored as much as my
heart loves you!"
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