XXXIII. To the QUEEN. The little that is here in Cypher is in that which I sent to Thee by Pooly.
OXFORD, Wednesday, 9. April, MDCXLV.
Dear Heart,
THough it be an uncomfortable thing to write by a slow Messenger, yet all occasions of this (which is now the only) way of conversing with Thee is so welcome to Me, as I shall be loth to lose any; but expect ne••ther news nor publick business from Me by this way of conveyance: yet judging Thee by My self, even these nothings will not be unwel∣come to Thee, though I should chide Thee, which if I could I would do, for Thy too sud∣den taking Alarms. I pray thee consider, since I love Thee above all earthly things, and that My contentment is unseparably conjoyned with Thine, must not all My actions tend to serve and please Thee? If Thou knewest what a life I lead (I speak not in respect of the common distractions) even in point of conversation, which, in My mind, is the chief joy or vexation of ones life, I dare say Thou wouldest pity Me; for some are too wise, others too foolish, some too busie, others too reserved, many fantastick. In a word, when I know none better (I speak not now in relation to business) than 359. 8. 270. 55. 5. 7. 67. 18. 294. 35. 69. 16. 54. 6. 38. 1. 67. 68. 9. 66. Thou maiest easily judge how My conver∣sation