Nevv epistles of Mounsieur de Balzac. Translated out of French into English, by Sr. Richard Baker Knight. Being the second and third volumes

To—LETTER XXVII.

MAdam, see here the first thankes I give you, for you know, that having never done me but displeasures, I have never yet re∣turned you but complaints: but now at last you have been pleased to beginne to oblige me, and after so many sentences of death, which you have pronounced against me, and after so many cruelties, which I have suffered, you have be∣thought your selfe, ten yeares after, to send me one good Newes, which truly is so pleasing to me, that I must confesse, you had no other way to reconcile your selfe unto me; and I cannot forbeare to blesse the hands that brought mee a Letter from Madam Desloges, though they were dyed in my bloud, and had given me a thousand wounds. The sence of former injuries, hath no competition with so perfect a joy, and of two passions equally just, the more violent is easily

overcome of the more sweet. You have haste∣ned the approach of my old age, and made gray one halfe of my haire; you have banished mee this Kingdome, and forced me to flie your ty∣ranny, by flying into another Country: finally, it is no thanke to you, that I have not broken my owne necke, and made matter for a Trage∣die: and yet foure lines of Madam Desloges, have the force to blot out all this long story of my mis-fortunes, and willingly with all my heart, I forget all the displeasures I have received, for this good office you now affoord me. I make you this discourse in our first language, that I may not disobey Monsieur de—who will have me write, but will not have me write in a∣ny other stile; for in truth, and to speake seri∣ously, now that he leaves me at libertie, I must confesse unto you Madam, that I am exceeding∣ly bound unto you, for the continency I have learned by being with you, and for the good examples you have given me: your medicines are bitter, but they heale; you have banished me, but it is from prison: and if my passions be coo∣led by the snow of my head, I have then never a white hayre, which I may not count for one of your favours. I therefore recant my former complaints, and confesse my selfe your Debtour of all my vertue. The time I have imployed in your service, hath not been so much the season of my disorderd life, as it hath been an initiating me into a regular life which I meane to leade. Your conversation hath been a schoole of auste∣ritie unto me, and you have taught me, never to

be either yours, or any others, but onely in our Lord,

Madam,

Your, &c.

At Balzac, 10. Octob. 1629.