Day: May 29, 2018

[Postmark: May 29, 1846]

Friday.

My own darling, your little note was a great delight to
me last night, when I expected nothing ; and though I do not
hear to-day, I will believe you are well after the walk— the
walk, what a ‘ divine fancy ‘ ; not mentioned by Quarles !

And then the words that follow the good news of the
walk . . those assurances . . oh, my best, dearest Ba, — it is
all right that I cannot speak here, — if I could, by some
miracle, speak, it would be foolish : — but my life lies before
you to take and direct, and keep or give away, — I am altogether
your own.

I come in rather tired from Town — having spent the
morning at the Exhibition, and made calls beside. (Etty’s
picture of the sirens is abominable ; though it looks admirable
beside another picture of his : did I not tell you he had
chosen the sirens for a subject ?)

Oh, dearest beyond all dearness, now, at this moment
only, your last and pro tempore best letter comes to me !
One can’t scold and kiss at the same time . . so let the
wretched Post arrangements be unmentioned for the
moment ; there is enough to get up a revolution about, I do
think ! But you, you spoil me and undo me almost, — ought
to do so, at least, — they were too delicious to bear, the
things you say to me ! Why will you not say rather what I
feel, — for you can, perhaps, being what you are, — and let
me subscribe it ! It is a real pain to me to feel as I feel,
and speak no more than I speak.

And again the time urges . . just when I want most to
go on writing — but to-morrow I will do nothing else. Take
this now, sweet, sweet Ba, with my whole heart that loves,
loves you !

your R.

[Postmark: May 29, 1846]

Thursday.

Dearest dearest, I thought I had lost my letter to-night,
for not a sound came like a postman’s knock . . I thought
I had lost my letter, talking of losing jewels. I waited and
waited, and at last broke silence to Arabel with, ‘ when will
the post come ? ‘ ‘ Not to-night,’ said she — ‘ it is nearly ten.’
On which I exclaimed so pitifully and with such a desperate
sense of loss, ‘ You mean to say that I shall have no letter
to-night,’ ? . . that after she had laughed a very little, she
went down-stairs to search the letterbox and brought me
what I wanted.

And you think it possible that I should give up my letters
and their golden fountain ? — I ! . . while I live and have
understanding ! I can’t fancy what manner of eagles you
believe in. If in real live eagles, . . why it is as probable
as any other thing of the sort, that I or you should be
snatched away by an eagle . . . the eagle who used to live,
for instance, at the Coliseum of Regent’s Park. And when
I ride away upon an eagle, I may take a wrong counsel perhaps
that hour from other birds of the air : . . . but till
then, I am yours to have and to hold, . . unless, as you say,
you open your hand wide and cry with a distinct voice, ‘ Go.’
It shall be your doing and not mine, if we two are to part —
or God’s own doing, through illness and death. And the
way to avert danger is to avoid observation and discussion,
as much as we can — and we have not been frightened much
yet, . . now have we ? As for Wednesday, there is time to
think. But how can you leave your sister ? you cannot.
So unless you derange your ‘ myth ‘ altogether, and find a
trysting place for us, . . . each mounted on an eagle, . .
in Nephelococcygia, we had better be satisfied, it seems to
me, with Monday and Saturday.

I was out to-day as you saw by my letter, which with my
own hand I dropped into the post. I liked to do it beyond
what you discern. And how the sun shone, — and the little
breath of wind could do nobody harm, I felt. Also there
was the ‘ Autography ‘ in the shop-window to see, before I sate
down in the shop. So you were thought of by necessity,
besides the freewill.

Do you not see that I am bound to you hand and foot ?
Why do you not see what God sees ?

But it is late, and the rest must be for to-morrow. The
sender of the rose-tree sent to-day a great heliotrope — so,
presently, you will have to seek me in a wood.

Everywhere your own

Ba.