LETTER XXII
MR. LOVELACE, TO JOHN BELFORD, ESQ.
There is certainly a good deal in the observation, that it costs a manten times more pains to be wicked, than it would cost him to be good. Whata confounded number of contrivances have I had recourse to, in orderto carry my point with this charming creature; and yet after all, howhave I puzzled myself by it; and yet am near tumbling into the pit whichit was the end of all my plots to shun! What a happy man had I been withsuch an excellence, could I have brought my mind to marry when I firstprevailed upon her to quit her father's house! But then, as I have oftenreflected, how had I known, that a but blossoming beauty, who could carryon a private correspondence, and run such risques with a notorious wildfellow, was not prompted by inclination, which one day might give such afree-liver as myself as much pain to reflect upon, as, at the time itgave me pleasure? Thou rememberest the host's tale in Ariosto. And thyexperience, as well as mine, can furnish out twenty Fiametta's in proofof the imbecility of the sex.
But to proceed with my narrative.
The dear creature resumed the topic her heart was so firmly fixed upon;and insisted upon quitting the odious house, and that in very high terms.
I urged her to meet me the next day at the altar in either of the twochurches mentioned in the license. And I besought her, whatever was herresolution, to let me debate this matter calmly with her.
If, she said, I would have her give what I desired the least moment'sconsideration, I must not hinder her from being her own mistress. Towhat purpose did I ask her consent, if she had not a power over eitherher own person or actions?
Will you give me your honour, Madam, if I consent to your quitting ahouse so disagreeable to you?--
My honour, Sir! said the dear creature--Alas!--And turned weeping fromme with inimitable grace--as if she had said--Alas!--you have robbed meof my honour!
I hoped then, that her angry passions were subsiding; but I was mistaken;for, urging her warmly for the day; and that for the sake of our mutualhonour, and the honour of both our families; in this high-flown andhigh-souled strain she answered me:
And canst thou, Lovelace, be so mean--as to wish to make a wife of thecreature thou hast insulted, dishonoured, and abused, as thou hast me?Was it necessary to humble me down to the low level of thy baseness,before I could be a wife meet for thee? Thou hadst a father, who was aman of honour: a mother, who deserved a better son. Thou hast an uncle,who is no dishonour to the Peerage of a kingdom, whose peers are morerespectable than the nobility of any other country. Thou hast otherrelations also, who may be thy boast, though thou canst not be theirs--and canst thou not imagine, that thou hearest them calling upon thee; thedead from their monuments; the living from their laudable pride; not todishonour thy ancient and splendid house, by entering into wedlock with acreature whom thou hast levelled with the dirt of the street, and classedwith the vilest of her sex?
I extolled her greatness of soul, and her virtue. I execrated myself formy guilt: and told her, how grateful to the manes of my ancestors, aswell as to the wishes of the living, the honour I supplicated for wouldbe.
But still she insisted upon being a free agent; of seeing herself inother lodgings before she would give what I urged the leastconsideration. Nor would she promise me favour even then, or to permitmy visits. How then, as I asked her, could I comply, without resolvingto lose her for ever?
She put her hand to her forehead often as she talked; and at last,pleading disorder in her head, retired; neither of us satisfied with theother. But she ten times more dissatisfied with me, than I with her.
Dorcas seems to be coming into favour with her--
What now!--What now!
MONDAY NIGHT.
How determined is this lady!--Again had she like to have escaped us!--What a fixed resentment!--She only, I find, assumed a little calm, inorder to quiet suspicion. She was got down, and actually had unboltedthe street-door, before I could get to her; alarmed as I was by Mrs.Sinclair's cookmaid, who was the only one that saw her fly through thepassage: yet lightning was not quicker than I.
Again I brought her back to the dining-room, with infinite reluctance onher part. And, before her face, ordered a servant to be placedconstantly at the bottom of the stairs for the future.
She seemed even choked with grief and disappointment.
Dorcas was exceedingly assiduous about her; and confidently gave it asher own opinion, that her dear lady should be permitted to go to anotherlodging, since this was so disagreeable to her: were she to be killed forsaying so, she would say it. And was good Dorcas for this afterwards.
But for some time the dear creature was all passion and violence--
I see, I see, said she, when I had brought her up, what I am to expectfrom your new professions, O vilest of men!--
Have I offered t you, my beloved creature, any thing that can justifythis impatience after a more hopeful calm?
She wrung her hands. She disordered her head-dress. She tore herruffles. She was in a perfect phrensy.
I dreaded her returning malady: but, entreaty rather exasperating, Iaffected an angry air.--I bid her expect the worst she had to fear--andwas menacing on, in hopes to intimidate her; when, dropping to my feet,
'Twill be a mercy, said she, the highest act of mercy you can do, to killme outright upon this spot--this happy spot, as I will, in my lastmoments, call it!--Then, baring, with a still more frantic violence, partof her enchanting neck--Here, here, said the soul-harrowing beauty, letthy pointed mercy enter! and I will thank thee, and forgive thee for allthe dreadful past!--With my latest gasp will I forgive and thank thee!--Or help me to the means, and I will myself put out of the way somiserable a wretch! And bless thee for those means!
Why all this extravagant passion? Why all these exclamations? Have Ioffered any new injury to you, my dearest life? What a phrensy is this!Am I not ready to make you all the reparation that I can make you? Had Inot reason to hope--
No, no, no, no, as before, shaking her head with wild impatience, asresolved not to attend to what I said.
My resolutions are so honourable, if you will permit them to take effect,that I need not be solicitous where you go, if you will but permit myvisits, and receive my vows.--And God is my witness, that I bring you notback from the door with any view to your dishonour, but the contrary: andthis moment I will send for a minister to put an end to all your doubtsand fears.
Say this, and say a thousand times more, and bind every word with asolemn appeal to that God whom thou art accustomed to invoke to the truthof the vilest falsehoods, and all will still be short of what thou hasvowed and promised to me. And, were not my heart to abhor thee, and torise against thee, for thy perjuries, as it does, I would not, I tellthee once more, I would not, bind my soul in covenant with such a man,for a thousand worlds!
Compose yourself, however, Madam; for your own sake, compose yourself.Permit me to raise you up; abhorred as I am of your soul!
Nay, if I must not touch you; for she wildly slapt my hands; but withsuch a sweet passionate air, her bosom heaving and throbbing as shelooked up to me, that although I was most sincerely enraged, I could withtransport have pressed her to mine.
If I must not touch you, I will not.--But depend upon it, [and I assumedthe sternest air I could assume, to try what it would do,] depend uponit, Madam, that this is not the way to avoid the evils you dread. Let medo what I will, I cannot be used worse--Dorcas, begone!
She arose, Dorcas being about to withdraw; and wildly caught hold of herarm: O Dorcas! If thou art of mine own sex, leave me not, I charge thee!--Then quitting Dorcas, down she threw herself upon her knees, in thefurthermost corner of the room, clasping a chair with her face laid uponthe bottom of it!--O where can I be safe?--Where, where can I be safe,from this man of violence?--
This gave Dorcas an opportunity to confirm herself in her lady'sconfidence: the wench threw herself at my feet, while I seemed in violentwrath; and embracing my knees, Kill me, Sir,
kill me, Sir, if you please!--I must throw myself in your way, to save my lady. I beg your pardon,Sir--but you must be set on!--God forgive the mischief-makers!--But yourown heart, if left to itself, would not permit these things--spare,however, Sir! spare my lady, I beseech you!--bustling on her knees aboutme, as if I were intending to approach her lady, had I not beenrestrained by her.
This, humoured by me, Begone, devil!--Officious devil, begone!--startledthe dear creature: who, snatching up hastily her head from the chair, andas hastily popping it down again in terror, hit her nose, I suppose,against the edge of the chair; and it gushed out with blood, running in astream down her bosom; she herself was too much frighted to heed it!
Never was mortal man in such terror and agitation as I; for I instantlyconcluded, that she had stabbed herself with some concealed instrument.
I ran to her in a wild agony--for Dorcas was frighted out of all her mockinterposition----
What have you done!--O what have you done!--Look up to me, my dearestlife!--Sweet injured innocence, look up to me! What have you done!--Longwill I not survive you!--And I was upon the point of drawing my sword todispatch myself, when I discovered--[What an unmanly blockhead does thischarming creature make me at her pleasure!] that all I apprehended wasbut a bloody nose, which, as far as I know (for it could not be stoppedin a quarter of an hour) may have saved her head and her intellects.
But I see by this scene, that the sweet creature is but a pretty cowardat bottom; and that I can terrify her out of her virulence against me,whenever I put on sternness and anger. But then, as a qualifier to theadvantage this gives me over her, I find myself to be a coward too, whichI had not before suspected, since I was capable of being so easilyterrified by the apprehensions of her offering violence to herself.