As to going to Madrid, or one single step out of the way to avoid Colonel
Morden, let me perish if I do!--You cannot think me so mean a wretch.
And so you own that he has threatened me; but not in gross and
ungentlemanly terms, you say. If he has threatened me like a gentleman,
I will resent his threats like a gentleman. But he has not done as a man
of honour, if he has threatened at all behind my back. I would scorn to
threaten any man to whom I knew how to address myself either personally
or by pen and ink.
As to what you mention of my guilt; of the hand-writing on the wall; of a
legal prosecution, if he meet his fate from my hand; of his skill,
coolness, courage, and such-like poltroon stuff; what can you mean by it?
Surely you cannot believe that such insinuations as those will weaken
either my hands or my heart.--No more of this sort of nonsense, I beseech
you, in any of your future letters.
He had not taken any resolutions, you say, when you saw him. He must and
will take resolutions, one way or other, very quickly; for I wrote to him
yesterday, without waiting for this or your answer to my last. I could
not avoid it. I could not (as I told you in that) live in suspense. I
have directed my letter to Florence. Nor could I suffer my friends to
live in suspense as to my safety. But I have couched it in such moderate
terms, that he has fairly his option. He will be the challenger, if he
take it in the sense in which he may so handsomely avoid taking it. And
if he does, it will demonstrate that malice and revenge were the
predominant passions with him; and that he was determined but to settle
his affairs, and then take his resolutions, as you phrase it.--Yet, if we
are to meet [for I know what my option would be, in his case, on such a
letter, complaisant as it is] I wish he had a worse, I a better cause.
It would be a sweet revenge to him, were I to fall by his hand. But what
should I be the better for killing him?