Read Clarissa Harlowe; or the history of a young lady — Volume 3 Page 19


  LETTER XVII

  MR. LOVELACE, TO JOHN BELFORD, ESQ. [IN CONTINUATION.]

  And do I not see that I shall need nothing but patience, in order tohave all power with me? For what shall we say, if all these complaintsof a character wounded; these declarations of increasing regrets formeeting me; of resentments never to be got over for my seducing heraway; these angry commands to leaver her:--What shall we say, if allwere to mean nothing but MATRIMONY? And what if my forbearing to enterupon that subject come out to be the true cause of their petulance anduneasiness!

  I had once before played about the skirts of the irrevocable obligation;but thought myself obliged to speak in clouds, and to run away from thesubject, as soon as she took my meaning, lest she should imagine it tobe ungenerously urged, now she was in some sort in my power, as shehad forbid me beforehand, to touch upon it, till I were in a state ofvisible reformation, and till a reconciliation with her friends wereprobable. But now, out-argued, out-talented, and pushed so vehemently toleave one of whom I had no good pretence to hold, if she would go; andwho could so easily, if I had given her cause to doubt, have thrownherself into other protection, or have returned to Harlowe-place andSolmes; I spoke out upon the subject, and offered reasons, althoughwith infinite doubt and hesitation, [lest she should be offended atme, Belford!] why she should assent to the legal tie, and make me thehappiest of men. And O how the mantle cheek, the downcast eye, thesilent yet trembling lip, and the heaving bosom, a sweet collectionof heightened beauties, gave evidence that the tender was not mortallyoffensive!

  Charming creature! thought I, [but I charge thee, that thou let notany of the sex know my exultation,*] Is it so soon come to this? AmI already lord of the destiny of a Clarissa Harlowe? Am I alreadythe reformed man thou resolvest I should be, before I had the leastencouragement given me? Is it thus, that the more thou knowest me, theless thou seest reason to approve of me?--And can art and designenter into a breast so celestial? To banish me from thee, to insist sorigorously upon my absence, in order to bring me closer to thee, andmake the blessing dear? Well do thy arts justify mine; and encourage meto let loose my plotting genius upon thee.

  * Mr. Lovelace might have spared this caution on this occasion, sincemany of the sex [we mention it with regret] who on the first publicationhad read thus far, and even to the lady's first escape, have beenreadier to censure her for over-niceness, as we have observed in aformer note, page 42, than him for artifices and exultations not lesscruel and ungrateful, than ungenerous and unmanly.

  But let me tell thee, charming maid, if thy wishes are at all to beanswered, that thou hast yet to account to me for thy reluctance to gooff with me, at a crisis when thy going off was necessary to avoid beingforced into the nuptial fetters with a wretch, that, were he not thyaversion, thou wert no more honest to thy own merit than to me.

  I am accustomed to be preferred, let me tell thee, by thy equals in ranktoo, though thy inferiors in merit: But who is not so? And shall I marrya woman, who has given me reason to doubt the preference she has for me?

  No, my dearest love, I have too sacred a regard for thy injunctions, tolet them be broken through, even by thyself. Nor will I take in thy fullmeaning by blushing silence only. Nor shalt thou give me room to doubt,whether it be necessity or love, that inspires this condescendingimpulse.

  Upon these principles, what had I to do but to construe her silence intocontemptuous displeasure? And I begged her pardon for making a motionwhich I had so much reason to fear would offend her: for the future Iwould pay a sacred regard to her previous injunctions, and prove toher by all my conduct the truth of that observation, That true love isalways fearful of offending.

  And what could the lady say to this? methinks thou askest.

  Say!--Why she looked vexed, disconcerted, teased; was at a loss, as Ithought, whether to be more angry with herself, or with me. She turnedabout, however, as if to hide a starting tear; and drew a sigh intotwo or three but just audible quavers, trying to suppress it, andwithdrew--leaving me master of the field.

  Tell me not of politeness; tell me not of generosity; tell me not ofcompassion--Is she not a match for me? More than a match? Does she notoutdo me at every fair weapon? Has she not made me doubt her love? Hasshe not taken officious pains to declare that she was not averse toSolmes for any respect she had to me? and her sorrow for putting herselfout of his reach, that is to say, for meeting me?

  Then, what a triumph would it be to the Harlowe pride, were I now tomarry this lady? A family beneath my own! No one in it worthy of analliance with but her! My own estate not contemptible! Living within thebounds of it, to avoid dependence upon their betters, and obliged to noman living! My expectations still so much more considerable! My person,my talents--not to be despised, surely--yet rejected by them with scorn.Obliged to carry on an underhand address to their daughter, when two ofthe most considerable families in the kingdom have made overtures, whichI have declined, partly for her sake, and partly because I never willmarry; if she be not the person. To be forced to steal her away, notonly from them, but from herself! And must I be brought to imploreforgiveness and reconciliation from the Harlowes?--Beg to beacknowledged as the son of a gloomy tyrant, whose only boast is hisriches? As a brother to a wretch, who has conceived immortal hatred tome; and to a sister who was beneath my attempts, or I would have had herin my own way, and that with a tenth part of the trouble and pains thather sister has cost me; and, finally, as a nephew to uncles, who valuethemselves upon their acquired fortunes, would insult me as creepingto them on that account?--Forbid it in the blood of the Lovelaces, thatyour last, and, let me say, not the meanest of your stock, should thuscreep, thus fawn, thus lick the dust, for a WIFE--!

  Proceed anon.