LXXXIV A LETTER
Mitchell S. (Mitchell Starrett) Buck translation
THAT is impossible, impossible. I supplicate thee upon my knees, with tears, all the tears I have wept over this horrible letter, not to abandon me thus.
Consider thou how terrible it is to lose thee forever for a second time, after having had the great joy of hoping to reconquer thee. Ah! my love! thou knowest not to what point I have adored thee!
Listen to me. Consent to see me one time more. Wilt thou be, tomorrow, at sundown, before thy door? Tomorrow, or the day following. I will come to take thee. Do not refuse me that.
Perhaps the last time, so, but still for this once, for this one time! I demand it of thee, I beg it of thee, and know that, upon thy reply, the rest of my life depends.