Read Clarissa Harlowe; or the history of a young lady — Volume 4 Page 13

  LETTER XI

  MISS CLARISSA HARLOWE, TO MISS HOWETHURSDAY, MAY 4.

  I forego every other engagement, I suspend ever wish, I banish everyother fear, to take up my pen, to beg of you that you will not think ofbeing guilty of such an act of love as I can never thank you for; butmust for ever regret. If I must continue to write to you, I must. Iknow full well your impatience of control, when you have the leastimagination that your generosity or friendship is likely to be wonderedat.

  My dearest, dearest creature, would you incur a maternal, as I have apaternal, malediction? Would not the world think there was an infectionin my fault, if it were to be followed by Miss Howe? There are somepoints so flagrantly wrong that they will not bear to be argued upon.This is one of them. I need not give reasons against such a rashness.Heaven forbid that it should be known that you had it but once in yourthought, be your motives ever so noble and generous, to follow so bad anexample, the rather, as that you would, in such a case, want theextenuations that might be pleaded in my favour; and particularly thatone of being surprised into the unhappy step!

  The restraint your mother lays you under would not have appeared heavy toyou but on my account. Would you had once thought it a hardship to beadmitted to a part of her bed?--How did I use to be delighted with sucha favour from my mother! how did I love to work in her presence!--So didyou in the presence of your's once. And to read to her in winterevenings I know was one of your joys.--Do not give me cause to reproachmyself on the reason that may be assigned for the change in you.

  Learn, my dear, I beseech you, learn to subdue your own passions. Be themotives what they will, excess is excess. Those passions in our sex,which we take pains to subdue, may have one and the same source withthose infinitely-blacker passions, which we used so often to condemn inthe violent and headstrong of the other sex; and which may only beheightened in them by custom, and their freer education. Let us both,my dear, ponder well this thought: look into ourselves, and fear.

  If I write, as I find I must, I insist upon your forbearing to write.Your silence to this shall be the sign to me that you will not think ofthe rashness you threaten me with: and that you will obey your mother asto your own part of the correspondence, however; especially as you caninform or advise me in every weighty case by Mr. Hickman's pen.

  My trembling writing will show you, my dear impetuous creature, what atrembling heart you have given to

  Your ever obliged,Or, if you take so rash a step,Your for ever disobliged,CLARISSA HARLOWE.

  My clothes were brought to me just now. But you have so much discomposedme, that I have no heart to look into the trunks. Why, why, my dear, willyou fright me with your flaming love? discomposure gives distress to aweak heart, whether it arise from friendship or enmity.

  A servant of Mr. Lovelace carries this to Mr. Hickman for dispatch-sake.Let that worthy man's pen relieve my heart from this new uneasiness.