马克吐温致妻 （奥莉维亚 L 兰登）（ 2 ）

　　9 may 1869· hartford， conn.
　　break our engagement， darling？ i would infinitely rather die. no， livy， if note is taken ofthe deeds of men， our troth is writ in the eternalrecords of heaven.we were created for each other， ＆ can no more wilfully separate than canthe forces of nature defy the god that created them.we are bound to each other by viewless chains that are strong as the granite ribs that linkthe mountains together，＆ more enduring than thepyramids that mock at the perishable vanities ofmen——for these chains are of eternity itself，＆cannot know death.
　　you are right when you say we shall not break our engagement.my life thenceforward would be only a vain ＆ foolish sort of existence， for i knowby every instinct that is in me that i am not capableof loving any other woman as i love you.and life is but a dull，eventless captivity without love.
　　to say that i am sorry for emma， but illexpresses it——for i can， after a fashion， divinewhat my torture would be if i were in her place.that i can divine one-half the magnitude of theterrible calamity， though，i do not pretend. itsuggests graves， madness， winding-sheets ＆death！——in a word， all horrors that can befallthe unfortunate. in presence of the thought， i feelas if i want to put my arms about you ＆ clasp youclose to my breast，＆ know ＆ feel that you are mydarling yet， that i have not lost you.
　　i am more than sorry for emma——i feel more kindly toward her than i ever did before——＆ my rebuking conscience iterates ＆ reiterates tome that all the time that i would have stood between you ＆ her ＆ bolted the sheltering doorsagainst her， she was seeking restful words for atroubled spirit ＆ balm for a sore heart.

　　all the ill news comes at once.a friend of twichell's is in misfortune——a young ministerwhom i met，with his wife，at twichell's house several times heretofore.he loved her to idolatry，＆ now she is taken from him. she had amiscarriage two years ago，＆ what with her bodily sufferings ＆ grief for the loss of the child，she came near dying. last week she had another miscarriage，＆ did not survive it. the young widower is well nigh beside himself with despair.death is for us both， my livy， but not broken engagements.our marriage——for marriage it is——is for time ＆ eternity.
　　“livy，livy，livy”（i love the name，）i am so sorry， but we can't have proofs to send you. thepublisher ＆ the electrotyper are at daggers'points，＆ as the latter is not obliged by custom orcontract to furnish duplicate proofs，bliss haslittle hope of getting them. he will try，but expects a refusal. and i have put so much“poetryin the margin”that it seems hardly worth while forme to make an attempt， especially as bliss says heis a crusty， ill－natured englishman——still，imean to make the attempt anyhow. i have read over fifty pages of proofs this morning——dull，stupid，aggravating，tiresome drudgery it was.itseems incredible to me that these are the very samekind of proofs i used to love to read with my darling＆ string out as long as possible. but thistime i galloped through them ＆ was perfectlydelighted when i got through.it took me about two hours——or even less. i haven't even made astart toward answering your dear good letters（7th＆ 8th received to－day，）＆ yet i must stop writingnow，for at 3 or 3∶30 o'clock i must be at mrs.hooker's，＆ it is considerably after 2， now ＆ i amnot yet shaved.

　　hat's gone， now， i suppose，＆ i am mostsincerely sorry， for if she isn't a blessing to ahousehold， all my judgments are gone astray. andshe was such company ＆ such a help to you， that ifeel a grateful glow around about my heart everytime i think of her.anybody that is good to livycan command my love ＆ respect.i shall write her，to lisbon， ill.
　　livy dear， you must deliver my love unto yourfather ＆ mother（＆in no stinted measure or infrozen parliamentary pomp ＆ circumstance，iwarn you，）＆ unto your sister sue＆ theodore aswell.i love all those parties.
　　confound it， i forgot to give hattie themocking-bird.
　　the peace of god be with you， my own darling，＆ his angels keep you.
　　sam