XVI
Dear Princess,
Finding the date of your letter so young, and having an assurance from who at the same time heard from Mr. that all our letters have been delivered at [B.], I cannot but imagine some ill mistake, and that you have not received any at all. Faith I have none in Welsh man; and though fear and suspicion look often so far that they oversee the right, yet when love holds the candle, they seldom do mistake so much. My dearest princess, I shall long, next hearing you are well, to hear that they are safe; for though I can never be ashamed to be found an idolater to such a shrine as yours, yet since the world is full of profane eyes, the best way, sure, is to keep all mysteries from them, and to let privacy be (what indeed it is) the best part of devotion. So thinks,
Your humble Servant.
XVII
Since the inferior orbs move but by the first, without all question desires and hopes in me are to be govern'd still by you, as they by it. What mean these fears, then, dear princess? Though planets wander, yet is the sphere that carries them the same still; and though wishes in me may be extravagant, yet he in whom they make their motion is, you know, my dear princess,
And till we hear from you, though (according to the form of concluding a letter) we should now rest, we cannot.
XVIII
Fair Princess,
If parting be a sin (as sure it is) what then to part from you? If to extenuate an ill be to increase it, what then now to excuse it by a letter? That which we would allege to lessen it, with you perchance has added to the guilt already, which is our sudden leaving you. Abruptness is an eloquence in parting, when spinning out of time is but the weaving of new sorrow. And thus we thought; yet not being able to distinguish of our own acts, the fear we may have sinn'd farther than we think of has made us send to you, to know whether it be mortal or not.
