LETTER XXVI
MR. LOVELACE, TO JOHN BELFORD, ESQ.
Tired with a succession of fatiguing days and sleepless nights, and withcontemplating the precarious situation I stand in with my beloved, I fellinto a profound reverie; which brought on sleep; and that produced adream; a fortunate dream; which, as I imagine, will afford my workingmind the means to effect the obliging double purpose my heart is now oncemore set upon.
What, as I have often contemplated, is the enjoyment of the finest womanin the world, to the contrivance, the bustle, the surprises, and at lastthe happy conclusion of a well-laid plot!--The charming round-abouts, tocome to the nearest way home;--the doubts; the apprehensions; theheart-achings; the meditated triumphs--these are the joys that make theblessing dear.--For all the rest, what is it?--What but to find an angelin imagination dwindled down to a woman in fact?----But to my dream----
Methought it was about nine on Wednesday morning that a chariot, with adowager's arms upon the doors, and in it a grave matronly lady [notunlike mother H. in the face; but, in her heart, Oh! how unlike!] stoppedat a grocer's shop, about ten doors on the other side of the way, inorder to buy some groceries: and methought Dorcas, having been out to seeif the coast were clear for her lady's flight, and if a coach were to begot near the place, espied the chariot with the dowager's arms, and thismatronly lady: and what, methought, did Dorcas, that subtle traitress,do, but whip up to the old matronly lady, and lifting up her voice, say,Good my Lady, permit me one word with your Ladyship!
What thou hast to say to me, say on, quoth the old lady; the grocerretiring, and standing aloof, to give Dorcas leave to speak; who,methought, in words like these accosted the lady:
'You seem, Madam, to be a very good lady; and here, in thisneighbourhood, at a house of no high repute, is an innocent lady of rankand fortune, beautiful as a May morning, and youthful as a rose-bud, andfull as sweet and lovely, who has been tricked thither by a wickedgentleman, practised in the ways of the town, and this very night willshe be ruined if she get not out of his hands. Now, O Lady! if you willextend your compassionate goodness to this fair young lady, in whom, themoment you behold her, you will see cause to believe all I say, and lether but have a place in your chariot, and remain in your protection forone day only, till she can send a man and horse to her rich and powerfulfriends, you may save from ruin a lady who has no equal for virtue aswell as beauty.'
Methought the old lady, moved with Dorcas's story, answered and said,'Hasten, O damsel, who in a happy moment art come to put it in my powerto serve the innocent and virtuous, which it has always been my delightto do: hasten to this young lady, and bid her hie hither to me with allspeed; and tell her, that my chariot shall be her asylum: and if I findall that thou sayest true, my house shall be her sanctuary, and I willprotect her from all her oppressors.'
Hereupon, methought, this traitress Dorcas hied back to the lady, andmade report of what she had done. And, methought, the lady highlyapproved of Dorcas's proceeding and blessed her for her good thought.
And I lifted up mine eyes, and behold the lady issued out of the house,and without looking back, ran to the chariot with the dowager's coat uponit; and was received by the matronly lady with open arms, and 'Welcome,welcome, welcome, fair young lady, who so well answer the description ofthe faithful damsel: and I will carry you instantly to my house, whereyou shall meet with all the good usage your heart can wish for, till youcan apprize your rich and powerful friends of your past dangers, andpresent escape.'
'Thank you, thank you, thank you, thank you, worthy, thrice worthy lady,who afford so kindly your protection to a most unhappy young creature,who has been basely seduced and betrayed, and brought to the very brinkof destruction.'
Methought, then, the matronly lady, who had, by the time the young ladycame to her, bought and paid for the goods she wanted, ordered hercoachman to drive home with all speed; who stopped not till he hadarrived in a certain street not far from Lincoln's-inn-fields, where thematronly lady lived in a sumptuous dwelling, replete with damsels whowrought curiously in muslins, cambrics, and fine linen, and in every goodwork that industrious damsels love to be employed about, except the loomand the spinning-wheel.
And, methought, all the way the young lady and the old lady rode, andafter they came in, till dinner was ready, the young lady filled up thetime with the dismal account of her wrongs and her sufferings, the likeof which was never heard by mortal ear; and this in so moving a manner,that the good old lady did nothing but weep, and sigh, and sob, andinveigh against the arts of wicked men, and against that abominable'Squire Lovelace, who was a plotting villain, methought she said; andmore than that, an unchained Beelzebub.
Methought I was in a dreadful agony, when I found the lady had escaped,and in my wrath had like to have slain Dorcas, and our mother, and everyone I met. But, by some quick transition, and strange metamorphosis,which dreams do not usually account for, methought, all of a sudden, thismatronly lady turned into the famous mother H. herself; and, being an oldacquaintance of mother Sinclair, was prevailed upon to assist in my plotupon the young lady.
Then, methought, followed a strange scene; for mother H. longing to hearmore of the young lady's story, and night being come, besought her toaccept of a place in her own bed, in order to have all the talk tothemselves. For, methought, two young nieces of her's had broken in uponthem, in the middle of the dismal tale.
Accordingly, going early to bed, and the sad story being resumed, with asgreat earnestness on one side as attention on the other, before the younglady had gone far in it, mother H. methought was taken with a fit of thecolic; and her tortures increasing, was obliged to rise to get a cordialshe used to find specific in this disorder, to which she was unhappilysubject.
Having thus risen, and stept to her closet, methought she let fall thewax taper in her return; and then [O metamorphosis still stranger thanthe former! what unaccountable things are dreams!] coming to bed again inthe dark, the young lady, to her infinite astonishment, grief, andsurprise, found mother H. turned into a young person of the other sex;and although Lovelace was the abhorred of her soul, yet, fearing it wassome other person, it was matter of consolation to her, when she found itwas no other than himself, and that she had been still the bed-fellow ofbut one and the same man.
A strange promiscuous huddle of adventures followed, scenes perpetuallyshifting; now nothing heard from the lady, but sighs, groans,exclamations, faintings, dyings--From the gentleman, but vows, promises,protestations, disclaimers of purposes pursued, and all the gentle andungentle pressures of the lover's warfare.
Then, as quick as thought (for dreams, thou knowest confine notthemselves to the rules of the drama) ensued recoveries, lyings-in,christenings, the smiling boy, amply, even in her own opinion, rewardingthe suffering mother.
Then the grandfather's estate yielded up, possession taken of it: livingvery happily upon it: her beloved Norton her companion; Miss Howe hervisiter; and (admirable! thrice admirable!) enabled to compare notes withher; a charming girl, by the same father, to her friend's charming boy;who, as they grow up, in order to consolidate their mamma's friendships,(for neither have dreams regard to consanguinity,) intermarry; changenames by act of parliament, to enjoy my estate--and I know not what ofthe like incongruous stuff.
I awoke, as thou mayest believe, in great disorder, and rejoiced to findmy charmer in the next room, and Dorcas honest.
Now thou wilt say this was a very odd dream. And yet, (for I am astrange dreamer,) it is not altogether improbable that something like itmay happen; as the pretty simpleton has the weakness to confide inDorcas, whom till now she disliked.
But I forgot to tell thee one part of my dream; and that was, that, thenext morning, the lady gave way to such transports of grief andresentment, that she was with difficulty diverted from making an attemptupon her own life. But, however, at last was prevailed upon to resolveto live, and make the best of the matter: a letter, methought, fromCaptain Tomlinson helping to pacify her, wri
tten to apprize me, that heruncle Harlowe would certainly be at Kentish-town on Wednesday night, June28, the following day (the 29th) being his birth-day; and be doublydesirous, on that account, that our nuptials should be then privatelysolemnized in his presence.
But is Thursday, the 29th, her uncle's anniversary, methinks thou askest?--It is; or else the day of celebration should have been earlier still.Three weeks ago I heard her say it was: and I have down the birthday ofevery one in the family, and the wedding-day of her father and mother.The minutest circumstances are often of great service in matters of thelast importance.
And what sayest thou now to my dream?
Who says that, sleeping and waking, I have not fine helps from somebody,some spirit rather, as thou'lt be apt to say? But no wonder that aBeelzebub has his devilkins to attend his call.
I can have no manner of doubt of succeeding in mother H.'s part of thescheme; for will the lady (who resolves to throw herself into the firsthouse she can enter, or to bespeak the protection of the first person shemeets, and who thinks there can be no danger out of this house, equal towhat she apprehends from me in it) scruple to accept of the chariot of adowager, accidentally offered? and the lady's protection engaged by herfaithful Dorcas, so highly bribed to promote her escape?--And then Mrs.H. has the air and appearance of a venerable matron, and is not such aforbidding devil as Mrs. Sinclair.
The pretty simpleton knows nothing in the world; nor that people who havemoney never want assistants in their views, be they what they will. Howelse could the princes of the earth be so implicitly served as they are,change they hands every so often, and be their purposes ever so wicked.
If I can but get her to go on with me till Wednesday next week, we shallbe settled together pretty quietly by that time. And indeed if she hasany gratitude, and has in her the least of her sex's foibles, she mustthink I deserve her favour, by the pains she has cost me. For dearly dothey all love that men should take pains about them and for them.
And here, for the present, I will lay down my pen, and congratulatemyself upon my happy invention (since her obstinacy puts me once moreupon exercising it.)--But with this resolution, I think, that, if thepresent contrivance fail me, I will exert all the faculties of my mind,all my talents, to procure for myself a regal right to her favour andthat in defiance of all my antipathies to the married state; and of thesuggestions of the great devil out of the house, and of his secret agentsin it.--Since, if now she is not to be prevailed upon, or drawn in, itwill be in vain to attempt her further.