Clarissa Harlowe; or the history of a young lady Volume V Part 20

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But no more in this strain!--I will see what her behaviour will be on my return--yet already do I begin to apprehend some little sinkings, some little retrogradations: for I have just now a doubt arisen, whether, for her own sake, I should wish her to forgive me lightly, or with difficulty?

I am in a way to come at the wished-for license.

I have now given every thing between my beloved and me a full consideration; and my puzzle is over. What has brought me to a speedier determination is, that I think I have found out what she means by the week's distance at which she intends to hold me. It is, that she may have time to write to Miss Howe, to put in motion that cursed scheme of her's, and to take measures upon it which shall enable her to abandon and renounce me for ever. Now, Jack, if I obtain not admission to her presence on my return; but am refused with haughtiness; if her week be insisted upon (such prospects before her); I shall be confirmed in my conjecture; and it will be plain to me, that weak at best was that love, which could give place to punctilio, at a time when that all-reconciling ceremony, as she must think, waits her command:--then will I recollect all her perversenesses; then will I re-peruse Miss Howe's letters, and the transcripts from others of them; give way to my aversion to the life of shackles: and then shall she be mine in my own way.

But, after all, I am in hopes that she will have better considered of every thing by the evening; that her threat of a week's distance was thrown out in the heat of pa.s.sion; and that she will allow, that I have as much cause to quarrel with her for breach of her word, as she has with me for breach of the peace.

These lines of Rowe have got into my head; and I shall repeat them very devoutly all the way the chairman shall poppet me towards her by-and-by.

Teach me, some power, the happy art of speech, To dress my purpose up in gracious words; Such as may softly steal upon her soul, And never waken the tempestuous pa.s.sions.

LETTER XIX

MR. LOVELACE, TO JOHN BELFORD, ESQ.

THURSDAY EVENING, JUNE 8.

O for a curse to kill with!--Ruined! Undone! Outwitted!

Tricked!--Zounds, man, the lady has gone off!--Absolutely gone off!

Escaped!--

Thou knowest not, nor canst conceive, the pangs that wring my heart!-- What can I do!--O Lord, O Lord, O Lord!

And thou, too, who hast endeavoured to weaken my hands, wilt but clap thy dragon's wings at the tidings!

Yet I must write, or I shall go distracted! Little less have I been these two hours; dispatching messengers to every stage, to every inn, to every waggon or coach, whether flying or creeping, and to every house with a bill up, for five miles around.

The little hypocrite, who knows not a soul in this town, [I thought I was sure of her at any time,] such an unexperienced traitress--giving me hope too, in her first billet, that her expectation of the family- reconciliation would withhold her from taking such a step as this--curse upon her contrivances!--I thought, that it was owing to her bashfulness, to her modesty, that, after a few innocent freedoms, she could not look me in the face; when, all the while, she was impudently [yes, I say, impudently, though she be Clarissa Harlowe] contriving to rob me of the dearest property I had ever purchased--purchased by a painful servitude of many months; fighting through the wild-beasts of her family for her, and combating with a wind-mill virtue, which hath cost me millions of perjuries only to attempt; and which now, with its d.a.m.n'd air-fans, has tost me a mile and a half beyond hope!--And this, just as I had arrived within view of the consummation of all my wishes!

O Devil of Love! G.o.d of Love no more--how have I deserved this of thee!--Never before the friend of frozen virtue?--Powerless demon, for powerless thou must be, if thou meanedest not to frustrate my hopes; who shall henceforth kneel at thy altars!--May every enterprising heart abhor, despise, execrate, renounce thee, as I do!--But, O Belford, Belford, what signifies cursing now!

How she could effect this her wicked escape is my astonishment; the whole sisterhood having charge of her;--for, as yet, I have not had patience enough to inquire into the particulars, nor to let a soul of them approach me.

Of this I am sure, or I had not brought her hither, there is not a creature belonging to this house, that could be corrupted either by virtue or remorse: the highest joy every infernal nymph, of this worse than infernal habitation, could have known, would have been to reduce this proud beauty to her own level.--And as to my villain, who also had charge of her, he is such a seasoned varlet, that he delights in mischief for the sake of it: no bribe could seduce him to betray his trust, were there but wickedness in it!--'Tis well, however, he was out of my way when the cursed news was imparted to me!--Gone, the villain! in quest of her: not to return, nor to see my face [so it seems he declared] till he has heard some tidings of her; and all the out-of-place varlets of his numerous acquaintance are summoned and employed in the same business.

To what purpose brought I this angel (angel I must yet call her) to this h.e.l.lish house?--And was I not meditating to do her deserved honour? By my soul, Belford, I was resolved--but thou knowest what I had conditionally resolved--And now, who can tell into what hands she may have fallen!

I am mad, stark mad, by Jupiter, at the thoughts of this!--Unprovided, dest.i.tute, unacquainted--some villain, worse than myself, who adores her not as I adore her, may have seized her, and taken advantage of her distress!--Let me perish, Belford, if a whole hecatomb of innocents, as the little plagues are called, shall atone for the broken promises and wicked artifices of this cruel creature!

Going home, as I did, with resolutions favourable to her, judge thou of my distraction, when her escape was first hinted to me, although but in broken sentences. I knew not what I said, nor what I did. I wanted to kill somebody. I flew out of one room into another, who broke the matter to me. I charged bribery and corruption, in my first fury, upon all; and threatened destruction to old and young, as they should come in my way.

Dorcas continues locked up from me: Sally and Polly have not yet dared to appear: the vile Sinclair--

But here comes the odious devil. She taps at the door, thought that's only a-jar, whining and snuffling, to try, I suppose, to coax me into temper.

What a helpless state, where a man can only execrate himself and others; the occasion of his rage remaining; the evil increasing upon reflection; time itself conspiring to deepen it!--O how I curs'd her!

I have her now, methinks, before me, blubbering--how odious does sorrow make an ugly face!--Thine, Jack, and this old beldam's, in penitentials, instead of moving compa.s.sion, must evermore confirm hatred; while beauty in tears, is beauty heightened, and what my heart has ever delighted to see.----

'What excuse!--Confound you, and your cursed daughters, what excuse can you make?--Is she not gone--Has she not escaped?--But before I am quite distracted, before I commit half a hundred murders, let me hear how it was.'----

I have heard her story!--Art, d.a.m.n'd, confounded, wicked, unpardonable art, is a woman of her character--But show me a woman, and I'll show thee a plotter!--This plaguy s.e.x is art itself: every individual of it is a plotter by nature.

This is the substance of the old wretch's account.

She told me, 'That I had no sooner left the vile house, than Dorcas acquainted the syren' [Do, Jack, let me call her names!--I beseech thee, Jack, to permit me to call her names!] 'that Dorcas acquainted her lady with it; and that I had left word, that I was gone to doctors-commons, and should be heard of for some hours at the Horn there, if inquired after by the counsellor, or anybody else: that afterwards I should be either at the Cocoa-tree, or King's-Arms, and should not return till late. She then urged her to take some refreshment.

'She was in tears when Dorcas approached her; her saucy eyes swelled with weeping: she refused either to eat or drink; sighed as if her heart would break.'--False, devilish grief! not the humble, silent, grief, that only deserves pity!--Contriving to ruin me, to despoil me of all that I held valuable, in the very midst of it.

'Nevertheless, being resolved not to see me for a week at least, she ordered her to bring up three or four French rolls, with a little b.u.t.ter, and a decanter of water; telling her, she would dispense with her attendance; and that should be all she should live upon in the interim.

So artful creature! pretending to lay up for a week's siege.'--For, as to substantial food, she, no more than other angels--Angels! said I--the devil take me if she be any more an angel!--for she is odious in my eyes; and I hate her mortally!

But O Lovelace, thou liest!--She is all that is lovely. All that is excellent!

But is she, can she be gone!--Oh! how Miss Howe will triumph!--But if that little fury receive her, fate shall make me rich amends; for then will I contrive to have them both.

I was looking back for connection--but the devil take connection; I have no business with it: the contrary best befits distraction, and that will soon be my lot!

'Dorcas consulted the old wretch about obeying her: O yes, by all means; for Mr. Lovelace knew how to come at her at any time: and directed a bottle of sherry to be added.

'This cheerful compliance so obliged her, that she was prevailed upon to go up, and look at the damage done by the fire; and seemed not only shocked by it, but, as they thought, satisfied it was no trick; as she owned she had at first apprehended it to be. All this made them secure; and they laughed in their sleeves, to think what a childish way of showing her resentment she had found out; Sally throwing out her witticisms, that Mrs. Lovelace was right, however, not to quarrel with her bread and b.u.t.ter.'

Now this very childishness, as they imagined it, in such a genius, would have made me suspect either her head, after what had happened the night before; or her purpose, when the marriage was (so far as she knew) to be completed within the week in which she was resolved to secrete herself from me in the same house.

'She sent Will. with a letter to Wilson's, directed to Miss Howe, ordering him to inquire if there were not one for her there.

'He only pretended to go, and brought word there was none; and put her letter in his pocket for me.

Clarissa Harlowe; or the history of a young lady Volume V Part 20

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