Oh My William!
it is not in my power to tell thee how I have been affected by this dearest of all letters… it was so unexpected… so new a thing to see the breathing of thy inmost heart upon paper that I was quite overpowered, & now that I sit down to answer thee in the loneliness & depth of that love which unites us & which cannot be felt but by ourselves, I am so agitated & my eyes are so bedimmed that I scarecely know how to proceed …
To William Wordswroth from Mary Wordswroth
I have waited patiently for one whole day without news of you; I have been counting the time and that’s what it must be. But a second day I can see no reason for it, unless my servants have grown lazy or been captured by the enemy, for I dare not put the blame on you, my beautiful angel: I am too confident of your affection–which is certainly due to me, for my love was never greater, nor my desire more urgent; that is why I repeat this refrain in all my letters: come, come, come, my dear love.
Honor with your presence the man who, if only he were free, would go a thousand miles to throw himself at your feet and never move from there. As for what is happening here, we have drained the water from the moat, but our cannons are not going to be in place until Friday when, God willing, I will dine in town.
The day after you reach Mantes, my sister will arrive at Anet, where I will have the pleasure of seeing you every day. I am sending you a bouquet of orange blossom that I have just received. I kiss the hands of the Vicomtess if she is there, and of my good friend, and as for you, my dear love, I kiss your feet a million times.
To Gabrielle d’Estres from King Henry IV