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Quarle, being come to the place where his beloved Beaufidelle lay in a most dismal bloody condition, could not forbear shedding tears to see him thus miserably dying; but, finding still breath in him, it give him hopes of his recovery; and taking him up in his arms, with all the care he could, hastens home; and gives him a little of the liquor he had made, which by that time had got both body and spirit; then having laid him upon his bed, and covered him with his winter wrapper, he makes a fire, warms some of the liquor and fresh butter, wherewith he washes his sores; so lays him down again, giving him all the careful attendance he could during his illness, which held but one week; at the end of which he died to his unspeakable grief; who, from that time grew so melancholy, that he had not the ⟨courage⟩ to go on with his memoirs; til having a most remarkable dream, about twelvemonths after, ⟨he⟩ changed his resolution, and proceeded in his memoirs; and as he set down his dream, he also ⟨did⟩ the death of his beloved beast; it happening ⟨near⟩ the same time.
Being now deprived of the society of his dear Beaufidelle, Quarle passed the remainder of his time, during his stay on the island, very heavily which happily for him happened not to be long for in a few months after this, an English vessel commanded by Mr. Dorrington, a Bristol merchant, having touched at the island took him on board and having again set sail, after a prosperous voyage, brought him safely home to the bosom of his country and his friends.
FINIS.
