LETTER XVIII
MR. LOVELACE, TO JOHN BELFORD, ESQ.SUNDAY NIGHT.
Never blame me for giving way to have art used with this admirablecreature. All the princes of the air, or beneath it, joining with me,could never have subdued her while she had her senses.
I will not anticipate--only to tell thee, that I am too much awakened byher to think of sleep, were I to go to bed; and so shall have nothing todo but to write an account of our odd conversation, while it is so strongupon my mind that I can think of nothing else.
She was dressed in a white damask night-gown, with less negligence thanfor some days past. I was sitting with my pen in my fingers; and stoodup when I first saw her, with great complaisance, as if the day werestill her own. And so indeed it is.
She entered with such dignity in her manner as struck me with great awe,and prepared me for the poor figure I made in the subsequentconversation. A poor figure indeed!--But I will do her justice.
She came up with quick steps, pretty close to me; a white handkerchiefin her hand; her eyes neither fierce nor mild, but very earnest; and afixed sedateness in her whole aspect, which seemed to be the effect ofdeep contemplation: and thus she accosted me, with an air and action thatI never saw equalled.
You see before you, Sir, the wretch, whose preference of you to all yoursex you have rewarded--as it indeed deserved to be rewarded. My father'sdreadful curse has already operated upon me in the very letter of it, asto this life; and it seems to me too evident that it will not be yourfault that it is not entirely completed in the loss of my soul, as wellas of my honour--which you, villanous man! have robbed me of, with abaseness so unnatural, so inhuman, that it seems you, even you, had notthe heart to attempt it, till my senses were made the previous sacrifice.
Here I made an hesitating effort to speak, laying down my pen: but sheproceeded!--Hear me out, guilty wretch!--abandoned man!--Man, did I say?--Yet what name else can I? since the mortal worryings of the fiercestbeast would have been more natural, and infinitely more welcome, thatwhat you have acted by me; and that with a premeditation and contrivanceworthy only of that single heart which now, base as well as ungrateful asthou art, seems to quake within thee.--And well may'st thou quake; wellmay'st thou tremble, and falter, and hesitate, as thou dost, when thoureflectest upon what I have suffered for thy sake, and upon the returnsthou hast made me!
By my soul, Belford, my whole frame was shaken: for not only her looksand her action, but her voice, so solemn, was inexpressibly affecting:and then my cursed guilt, and her innocence, and merit, and rank, andsuperiority of talents, all stared me at that instant in the face soformidably, that my present account, to which she unexpectedly called me,seemed, as I then thought, to resemble that general one, to which we aretold we shall be summoned, when our conscience shall be our accuser.
But she had had time to collect all the powers of her eloquence. Thewhole day probably in her intellects. And then I was the moredisappointed, as I had thought I could have gazed the dear creature intoconfusion--but it is plain, that the sense she has of her wrongs setsthis matchless woman above all lesser, all weaker considerations.
My dear--my love--I--I--I never--no never--lips trembling, limbs quaking,voice inward, hesitating, broken--never surely did miscreant look so likea miscreant! while thus she proceeded, waving her snowy hand, with allthe graces of moving oratory.
I have no pride in the confusion visible in thy whole person. I havebeen all the day praying for a composure, if I could not escape from thisvile house, that should once more enable me to look up to my destroyerwith the consciousness of an innocent sufferer. Thou seest me, since mywrongs are beyond the power of words to express, thou seest me, calmenough to wish, that thou may'st continue harassed by the workings of thyown conscience, till effectual repentance take hold of thee, that so thoumay'st not forfeit all title to that mercy which thou hast not shown tothe poor creature now before thee, who had so well deserved to meet witha faithful friend where she met with the worst of enemies.
But tell me, (for no doubt thou hast some scheme to pursue,) tell me,since I am a prisoner, as I find, in the vilest of houses, and have not afriend to protect or save me, what thou intendest shall become of theremnant of a life not worth the keeping!--Tell me, if yet there are moreevils reserved for me; and whether thou hast entered into a compact withthe grand deceiver, in the person of his horrid agent in this house; andif the ruin of my soul, that my father's curse may be fulfilled, is tocomplete the triumphs of so vile a confederacy?--Answer me!--Say, if thouhast courage to speak out to her whom thou hast ruined, tell me whatfarther I am to suffer from thy barbarity?
She stopped here, and, sighing, turned her sweet face from me, drying upwith her handkerchief those tears which she endeavoured to restrain; and,when she could not, to conceal from my sight.
As I told thee, I had prepared myself for high passions, raving, flying,tearing execration; these transient violences, the workings of suddengrief, and shame, and vengeance, would have set us upon a par with eachother, and quitted scores. These have I been accustomed to; and asnothing violent is lasting, with these I could have wished to encounter.But such a majestic composure--seeking me--whom, yet it is plain, by herattempt to get away, she would have avoided seeking--no Lucretia-likevengeance upon herself in her thought--yet swallowed up, her whole mindswallowed up, as I may say, by a grief so heavy, as, in her own words, tobe beyond the power of speech to express--and to be able, discomposed asshe was, to the very morning, to put such a home-question to me, as ifshe had penetrated my future view--how could I avoid looking like a fool,and answering, as before, in broken sentences and confusion?
What--what-a--what has been done--I, I, I--cannot but say--must own--mustconfess--hem--hem----is not right--is not what should have been--but-a--but--but--I am truly--truly--sorry for it--upon my soul I am--and--and--will do all--do every thing--do what--whatever is incumbent upon me--allthat you--that you--that you shall require, to make you amends!----
O Belford! Belford! whose the triumph now! HER'S, or MINE?
Amends! O thou truly despicable wretch! Then lifting up her eyes--GoodHeaven! who shall pity the creature who could fall by so base a mind!--Yet--[and then she looked indignantly upon me!] yet, I hate thee not(base and low-souled as thou art!) half so much as I hate myself, that Isaw thee not sooner in thy proper colours! That I hoped either morality,gratitude, or humanity, from a libertine, who, to be a libertine, musthave got over and defied all moral sanctions.*
* Her cousin Morden's words to her in his letter from Florence. See Vol.IV. Letter XIX.
She then called upon her cousin Morden's name, as if he had warned heragainst a man of free principles; and walked towards the window; herhandkerchief at her eyes. But, turning short towards me, with an air ofmingled scorn and majesty, [what, at the moment, would I have given neverto have injured her!] What amends hast thou to propose! What amends cansuch a one as thou make to a person of spirit, or common sense, for theevils thou hast so inhumanely made me suffer?
As soon, Madam--as soon--as--as soon as your uncle--or--not waiting----
Thou wouldest tell me, I suppose--I know what thou wouldest tell me--Butthinkest thou, that marriage will satisfy for a guilt like thine?Destitute as thou hast made me both of friends and fortune, I too muchdespise the wretch, who could rob himself of his wife's virtue, to endurethe thoughts of thee in the light thou seemest to hope I will accept theein!--
I hesitated an interruption; but my meaning died away upon my tremblinglips. I could only pronounce the word marriage--and thus she proceeded:
Let me, therefore, know whether I am to be controuled in the futuredisposal of myself? Whether, in a country of liberty, as this, where thesovereign of it must not be guilty of your wickedness, and where youneither durst have attempted it, had I one friend or relation to lookupon me, I am to be kept here a prisoner, to sustain fresh injuries?Whether, in a word, you intend to hinder me from going where my destinyshall lead me?
&
nbsp; After a pause--for I was still silent:
Can you not answer me this plain question?--I quit all claim, allexpectation, upon you--what right have you to detain me here?
I could not speak. What could I say to such a question?
O wretch! wringing her uplifted hands, had I not been robbed of mysenses, and that in the basest manner--you best know how--had I been ableto account for myself, and your proceedings, or to have known but how thedays passed--a whole week should not have gone over my head, as I find ithas done, before I had told you, what I now tell you--That the man whohas been the villain to me you have been, shall never make me his wife.--I will write to my uncle, to lay aside his kind intentions in my favour--all my prospects are shut in--I give myself up for a lost creature as tothis world--hinder me not from entering upon a life of severe penitence,for corresponding, after prohibition, with a wretch who has too welljustified all their warnings and inveteracy; and for throwing myself intothe power of your vile artifices. Let me try to secure the only hope Ihave left. This is all the amends I ask of you. I repeat, therefore, AmI now at liberty to dispose of myself as I please?
Now comes the fool, the miscreant again, hesitating his broken answer: Mydearest love, I am confounded, quite confounded, at the thought of what--of what has been done; and at the thought of--to whom. I see, I see,there is no withstanding your eloquence!--Such irresistible proofs of thelove of virtue, for its own sake, did I never hear of, nor meet with, inall my reading. And if you can forgive a repentant villain, who thus onhis knees implores your forgiveness, [then down I dropt, absolutely inearnest in all I said,] I vow by all that's sacred and just, (and may athunderbolt strike me dead at your feet, if I am not sincere!) that Iwill by marriage before to-morrow noon, without waiting for your uncle,or any body, do you all the justice I now can do you. And you shall everafter controul and direct me as you please, till you have made me moreworthy of your angelic purity than now I am: nor will I presume so muchas to touch your garment, till I have the honour to call so great ablessing lawfully mine.
O thou guileful betrayer! there is a just God, whom thou invokest: yetthe thunderbolt descends not; and thou livest to imprecate and deceive!
My dearest life! rising; for I hoped she was relenting----
Hadst thou not sinned beyond the possibility of forgiveness, interruptedshe; and this had been the first time that thus thou solemnly promisestand invokest the vengeance thou hast as often defied; the desperatenessof my condition might have induced me to think of taking a wretchedchance with a man so profligate. But, after what I have suffered bythee, it would be criminal in me to wish to bind my soul in covenant toa man so nearly allied to perdition.
Good God!--how uncharitable!--I offer not to defend--would to Heaven thatI could recall--so nearly allied to perdition, Madam!--So profligate aman, Madam!----
O how short is expression of thy crimes, and of my sufferings! Suchpremeditation is thy baseness! To prostitute the characters of personsof honour of thy own family--and all to delude a poor creature, whom thououghtest--But why talk I to thee? Be thy crimes upon thy head! Oncemore I ask thee, Am I, or am I not, at my own liberty now?
I offered to speak in defence of the women, declaring that they reallywere the very persons----
Presume not, interrupted she, base as thou art, to say one word in thineown vindication. I have been contemplating their behaviour, theirconversation, their over-ready acquiescences, to my declarations in thydisfavour; their free, yet affectedly-reserved light manners: and nowthat the sad event has opened my eyes, and I have compared facts andpassages together, in the little interval that has been lent me, I wonderI could not distinguish the behaviour of the unmatron-like jilt, whomthou broughtest to betray me, from the worthy lady whom thou hast thehonour to call thy aunt: and that I could not detect the superficialcreature whom thou passedst upon me for the virtuous Miss Montague.
Amazing uncharitableness in a lady so good herself!--That the highspirits those ladies were in to see you, should subject them to suchcensures!--I do must solemnly vow, Madam----
That they were, interrupting me, verily and indeed Lady Betty Lawranceand thy cousin Montague!--O wretch! I see by thy solemn averment [I hadnot yet averred it,] what credit ought to be given to all the rest. HadI no other proof----
Interrupting her, I besought her patient ear. 'I had found myself, Itold her, almost avowedly despised and hated. I had no hope of gainingher love, or her confidence. The letter she had left behind her, on herremoval to Hampstead, sufficiently convinced me that she was entirelyunder Miss Howe's influence, and waited but the return of a letter fromher to enter upon measures that would deprive me of her for ever: MissHowe had ever been my enemy: more so then, no doubt, from the contents ofthe letter she had written to her on her first coming to Hampstead; thatI dared not to stand the event of such a letter; and was glad of anopportunity, by Lady Betty's and my cousin's means (though they knew notmy motive) to get her back to town; far, at the time, from intending theoutrage which my despair, and her want of confidence in me, put me sovilely upon'--
I would have proceeded; and particularly would have said something ofCaptain Tomlinson and her uncle; but she would not hear me further. Andindeed it was with visible indignation, and not without several angryinterruptions, that she heard me say so much.
Would I dare, she asked me, to offer at a palliation of my baseness? Thetwo women, she was convinced, were impostors. She knew not but CaptainTomlinson and Mr. Mennell were so too. But whether they were so or not,I was. And she insisted upon being at her own disposal for the remainderof her short life--for indeed she abhorred me in every light; and moreparticularly in that in which I offered myself to her acceptance.
And, saying this, she flung from me; leaving me absolutely shocked andconfounded at her part of a conversation which she began with suchuncommon, however severe, composure, and concluded with so much sincereand unaffected indignation.
And now, Jack, I must address one serious paragraph particularly to thee.
I have not yet touched upon cohabitation--her uncle's mediation she doesnot absolutely discredit, as I had the pleasure to find by one hint inthis conversation--yet she suspects my future views, and has doubt aboutMennell and Tomlinson.
I do say, if she come fairly at her lights, at her clues, or what shall Icall them? her penetration is wonderful.
But if she do not come at them fairly, then is her incredulity, then isher antipathy to me evidently accounted for.
I will speak out--thou couldst not, surely, play me booty, Jack?--Surelythou couldst not let thy weak pity for her lead thee to an unpardonablebreach of trust to thy friend, who has been so unreserved in hiscommunications to thee?
I cannot believe thee capable of such a baseness. Satisfy me, however,upon this head. I must make a cursed figure in her eye, vowing andprotesting, as I shall not scruple occasionally to vow and protest, ifall the time she has had unquestionable informations of my perfidy. Iknow thou as little fearest me, as I do thee, if any point of manhood;and wilt scorn to deny it, if thou hast done it, when thus home-pressed.
And here I have a good mind to stop, and write no farther, till I havethy answer.
And so I will.
MONDAY MORN. PAST THREE.