Leigh Hunt letter to Marianne Hunt, May 14, 1813

              Surrey Jail, May 14. 1813. 
Akelhurst, St.[?]  	

My dear Marianne,  
Notwithstanding the tone of your letter of today, I cannot contrive to write you a much longer one myself, as you may well suppose when you recollect that it is Friday. With regard to that letter, I could wish much-very much- that you had not written it;--you will be sorry for it when you return. I thought I had been doing my best to /not/ write to you as often & as chearfully as I could, considering the new task which I have (and which occupies me more than you seem to imagine) and the weight of care & anxiety that pulls at my heartstrings; but if I cannot even contrive to render those who are dearest to me a little happy, I struggle with sorrow to little purpose, for to myself happiness has been a stranger now for these nine months. I must /now/ tell you however, for the sake of your own comfort, /that I have/ and as something like a better excuse than I thought it necessary to give you, that for these three days past I have had a smart fever upon me, accompanied with what I conceive to be a species of the influenza in my throat, which makes me eat with great difficulty. This /makes/ creates a languor & heaviness upon me, which united with no very good spirits, & more to do than I have been accustomed, renders me, I fear, a dull companion as well as a bad correspondent; but I do my best to rouse myself, & smile, as I  have long been used to smile, with bitterness at my heart. The thought of you & my darling children are my only solace on these occasions, though I am sometime obliged to avoid it on account of the extreme impatience it produces in me to see you,-- and then comes your short & severe letter! Oh Marianne, I do not mean to reproach you,