When I recover'd my senses, I found myself undress'd,
and a-bed, in the arms of the sweet relenting murderer of my
virginity, who hung mourning tenderly over me, and holding
in his hand a cordial, which, coming from the still dear
author of so much pain, I could not refuse; my eyes, however,
moisten'd with tears, and languishingly turn'd upon him,
seemed to reproach him with his cruelty, and ask him if such
were the rewards of love. But Charles, to whom I was now
infinitely endear'd by this complete triumph over a maiden-
head, where he so little expected to find one, in tenderness
to that pain which he had put me to, in procuring himself
the height of pleasure, smother'd his exultation, and em-
ploy'd himself with so much sweetness, so much warmth, to
sooth, to caress, and comfort me in my soft complainings,
which breath'd, indeed, more love than resentment, that I
presently drown'd all sense of pain in the pleasure of seeing
him, of thinking that I belong'd to him: he who was now the
absolute disposer of my happiness, and, in one word, my fate.
The sore was, however, too tender, the wound too bleed-
ing fresh, for Charles's good-nature to put my patience pre-
sently to another trial; but as I could not stir, or walk
across the room, he order'd the dinner to be brought to the
bed-side, where it could not be otherwise than my getting
down the wing of a fowl, and two or three glasses of wine,
since it was my ador'd youth who both serv'd, and urged them
on me, with that sweet irresistible authority with which love
had invested him over me.
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