eleven o'clock
SATURDAY NIGHT Is now come . 'T is nine , and no Mr. B. -- `` O why , '' as Deborah makes the mother of Sisera say , `` is his chariot so long in coming ? Why tarry the wheels of his chariot ? '' I have this note now at eleven o'clock : `` MY DEAREST PAMELA , `` I dispatch the messenger , lest , expecting me this night , you should be uneasy . I shall not be with you till Monday , when I hope to dine with my dearest life . _ Ever affectionately yours _ . '' So I 'll go up and pray for him , and then to bed .