LETTER XI
MR. LOVELACE, TO JOHN BELFORD, ESQ.
Mr. Lovelace, in continuation of his last letter, (No. VII.) gives an account to his friend (pretty much to the same effect with the lady's) of all that passed between them at the inns, in the journey, and till their fixing at Mrs. Sorling's; to avoid repetition, those passages in his narrative are extracted, which will serve to embellish her's; to open his views; or to display the humourous talent he was noted for.
At their alighting at the inn at St. Alban's on Monday night, thus he writes:
The people who came about us, as we alighted, seemed by their jaw-fallenfaces, and goggling eyes, to wonder at beholding a charming young lady,majesty in her air and aspect, so composedly dressed, yet with featuresso discomposed, come off a journey which made the cattle smoke, and theservants sweat. I read their curiosity in their faces, and my beloved'suneasiness in her's. She cast a conscious glance, as she alighted, uponher habit, which was no habit; and repulsively, as I may say, quittingmy assisting hand, hurried into the house.*****
Ovid was not a greater master of metamorphoses than thy friend. To themistress of the house I instantly changed her into a sister, brought offby surprise from a near relation's, (where she had wintered,) to preventher marrying a confounded rake, [I love always to go as near the truthas I can,] whom her father and mother, her elder sister, and all herloving uncles, aunts, and cousins abhorred. This accounted for mycharmer's expected sullens; for her displeasure when she was to join meagain, were it to hold; for her unsuitable dress upon the road; and,at the same time, gave her a proper and seasonable assurance of myhonourable views.
Upon the debate between the lady and him, and particularly upon thatpart where she upbraids him with putting a young creature upon making a sacrifice of her duty and conscience, he write:
All these, and still more mortifying things, she said.
I heard her in silence. But when it came to my turn, I pleaded, Iargued, I answered her, as well as I could.--And when humility wouldnot do, I raised my voice, and suffered my eyes to sparkle with anger;hoping to take advantage of that sweet cowardice which is so amiable inthe sex, and to which my victory over this proud beauty is principallyowing.
She was not intimidated, however, and was going to rise upon me in hertemper; and would have broken in upon my defence. But when a man talksto a woman upon such subjects, let her be ever so much in alt, 'tisstrange, if he cannot throw out a tub to the whale;--that is to say, ifhe cannot divert her from resenting one bold thing, by uttering two orthree full as bold; but for which more favourable interpretations willlie.
To that part, where she tells him of the difficulty she made to correspond with him at first, thus he writes:
Very true, my precious!--And innumerable have been the difficultiesthou hast made me struggle with. But one day thou mayest wish, that thouhadst spared this boast; as well as those other pretty haughtinesses,'That thou didst not reject Solmes for my sake: that my glory, if Ivalued myself upon carrying thee off, was thy shame: that I have moremerit with myself than with thee, or any body else: [what a coxcomb shemakes me, Jack!] that thou wishest thyself in thy father's house again,whatever were to be the consequence.'--If I forgive thee, charmer,for these hints, for these reflections, for these wishes, for thesecontempts, I am not the Lovelace I have been reputed to be; and that thytreatment of me shews that thou thinkest I am.
In short, her whole air throughout this debate expressed a majestic kindof indignation, which implied a believed superiority of talents over theperson to whom she spoke.
Thou hast heard me often expatiate upon the pitiful figure a man mustmake, whose wife has, or believes she has, more sense than himself. Athousand reasons could I give why I ought not to think of marrying MissClarissa Harlowe; at least till I can be sure, that she loves me withthe preference I must expect from a wife.
I begin to stagger in my resolutions. Ever averse as I was to thehymeneal shackles, how easily will prejudices recur! Heaven give me theheart to be honest to my Clarissa!--There's a prayer, Jack! If I shouldnot be heard, what a sad thing would that be, for the most admirable ofwomen!--Yet, as I do no often trouble Heaven with my prayers, who knowsbut this may be granted?
But there lie before me such charming difficulties, such scenery forintrigue, for stratagem, for enterprize. What a horrible thing, that mytalents point all that way!--When I know what is honourable and just;and would almost wish to be honest?--Almost, I say; for such a varlet amI, that I cannot altogether wish it, for the soul of me!--Such a triumphover the whole sex, if I can subdue this lady! My maiden vow, as I maycall it!--For did not the sex begin with me? And does this lady spareme? Thinkest thou, Jack, that I should have spared my Rosebud, had Ibeen set at defiance thus?--Her grandmother besought me, at first, tospare her Rosebud: and when a girl is put, or puts herself into aman's power, what can he wish for further? while I always consideredopposition and resistance as a challenge to do my worst.*
* See Vol. I. Letter XXXIV.
Why, why, will the dear creature take such pains to appear all ice tome?--Why will she, by her pride, awaken mine?--Hast thou not seen, inthe above, how contemptibly she treats me?--What have I not sufferedfor her, and even from her!--Ought I to bear being told, that she willdespise me, if I value myself above that odious Solmes?
Then she cuts me short in all my ardours. To vow fidelity, is by acursed turn upon me, to shew, that there is reason, in my own opinion,for doubt of it. The very same reflection upon me once before.*
* See Vol. II. Letter XIII.
In my power, or out of my power, all one to this lady.--So, Belford, mypoor vows are crammed down my throat, before they can well rise to mylips. And what can a lover say to his mistress, if she will neither lethim lie nor swear?
One little piece of artifice I had recourse to: When she pushed so hardfor me to leave her, I made a request to her, upon a condition she couldnot refuse; and pretended as much gratitude upon her granting it, as ifit were a favour of the last consequence.
And what was this? but to promise what she had before promised, 'Neverto marry any other man, while I am living, and single, unless I shouldgive her cause for high disgust against me.' This, you know, waspromising nothing, because she could be offended at any time, and was tobe the sole judge of the offence. But it shewed her how reasonable andjust my expectations were; and that I was no encroacher.
She consented; and asked what security I expected? Her word only.
She gave me her word: but I besought her excuse for sealing it: and inthe same moment (since to have waited for consent would have been askingfor a denial) saluted her. And, believe me, or not, but, as I hope tolive, it was the first time I had the courage to touch her charming lipswith mine. And this I tell thee, Belford, that that single pressure (asmodestly put too, as if I were as much a virgin as herself, that shemight not be afraid of me another time) delighted me more than ever Iwas delighted by the ultimatum with any other woman.--So precious doawe, reverence, and apprehended prohibition, make a favour!
And now, Belford, I am only afraid that I shall be too cunning; for shedoes not at present talk enough for me. I hardly know what to make ofthe dear creature yet.
I topt the brother's part on Monday night before the landlady at St.Alban's; asking my sister's pardon for carrying her off so unpreparedfor a journey; prated of the joy my father and mother, and allour friends, would have in receiving her; and this with so manycircumstances, that I perceived, by a look she gave me, that wentthrough my very veins, that I had gone too far. I apologized for itindeed when alone; but could not penetrate for the soul of me, whether Imade the matter better or worse by it.
But I am of too frank a nature: my success, and the joy I have becauseof the jewel I am half in possession of, has not only unlocked my bosom,but left the door quite open.
This is a confounded sly sex. Would she but speak out, as I do--but Imust learn reserves of her.
r /> She must needs be unprovided of money: but has too much pride to acceptof any from me. I would have had her go to town [to town, if possible,must I get her to consent to go] in order to provide herself withthe richest of silks which that can afford. But neither is this to beassented to. And yet, as my intelligencer acquaints me, her implacablerelations are resolved to distress her all they can.
These wretches have been most gloriously raving, ever since her flight;and still, thank Heaven, continue to rave; and will, I hope, for atwelvemonth to come. Now, at last, it is my day!
Bitterly do they regret, that they permitted her poultry-visits, andgarden-walks, which gave her the opportunity to effect an escape whichthey suppose preconcerted. For, as to her dining in the ivy-bower, theyhad a cunning design to answer upon her in that permission, as Bettytold Joseph her lover.*
* Vol. II. Letter XLVII. paragr. 37, 38.
They lost, they say, and excellent pretence for confining her moreclosely on my threatening to rescue her, if they offered to carry heragainst her will to old Antony's moated house.* For this, as I told theeat the Hart, and as I once hinted to the dear creature herself,** theyhad it in deliberation to do; apprehending, that I might attempt tocarry her off, either with or without her consent, on some one of thoseconnived-at excursions.
* Ibid. Let. XXXVI. and Let. XXXIX. par. I. ** Ibid. Let. XXXVI. par. 4. See also Let. XV. par. 3.
But here my honest Joseph, who gave me the information, was of admirableservice to me. I had taught him to make the Harlowes believe, that I wasas communicative to my servants, as their stupid James was to Joseph:*Joseph, as they supposed, by tampering with Will,** got all my secrets,and was acquainted with all my motions: and having also undertaken towatch all those of his young lady,***** the wise family were secure; andso was my beloved; and so was I.
* Ibid. Letter XLVII. par. 6, and 39.** This will be farther explained in Letter XXI. of this volume. *****See Vol. I. Letters XXXI. and XXXIV.
I once had it in my head (and I hinted it to thee* in a former) in casesuch a step should be necessary, to attempt to carry her off by surprisefrom the wood-house; as it is remote from the dwelling-house. This,had I attempted, I should have certainly effected, by the help of theconfraternity: and it would have been an action worthy of us all.--ButJoseph's conscience, as he called it, stood in my way; for he thought itmust have been known to be done by his connivance. I could, I dare say,have overcome this scruple, as easily as I did many of the others, hadI not depended at one time upon her meeting me at midnight or late hour[and, if she had, she never would have gone back]; at other times,upon the cunning family's doing my work for me, equally against theirknowledge or their wills.
* See Vol. I. Letter XXXV.
For well I knew, that James and Arabella were determined never to leaveoff their foolish trials and provocations, till, by tiring her out, theyhad either made her Solmes's wife, or guilty of some such rashness asshould throw her for ever out of the favour of both her uncles; thoughthey had too much malice in their heads to intend service to me by theirpersecutions of her.