LETTER XXXI
MR. LOVELACE, TO JOHN BELFORD, ESQ.THURSDAY NOON, JUNE 22.
Let me perish if I know what to make either of myself or of thissurprising creature--now calm, now tempestuous.--But I know thou lovestnot anticipation any more than I.
At my repeated requests, she met me at six this morning.
She was ready dressed; for she had not her clothes off every since shedeclared, that they never more should be off in this house. Andcharmingly she looked, with all the disadvantages of a three-hoursviolent stomach-ache--(for Dorcas told me that she had been really ill)--no rest, and eyes red and swelled with weeping. Strange to me that thosecharming fountains have not been so long ago exhausted! But she is awoman. And I believe anatomists allow, that women have more watry headsthan men.
Well, my dearest creature, I hope you have now thoroughly considered ofthe contents of Captain Tomlinson's letter. But as we are thus earlymet, let me beseech you to make this my happy day.
She looked not favourably upon me. A cloud hung upon her brow at herentrance: but as she was going to answer me, a still greater solemnitytook possession of her charming features.
Your air, and your countenance, my beloved creature, are not propitiousto me. Let me beg of you, before you speak, to forbear all furtherrecriminations: for already I have such a sense of my vileness to you,that I know not how to bear the reproaches of my own mind.
I have been endeavouring, said she, since I am not permitted to avoidyou, to obtain a composure which I never more expected to see you in.How long I may enjoy it, I cannot tell. But I hope I shall be enabledto speak to you without that vehemence which I expressed yesterday, andcould not help it.*
* The Lady, in her minutes, says, 'I fear Dorcas is a false one. May Inot be able to prevail upon him to leave me at my liberty? Better totry than to trust to her. If I cannot prevail, but must meet him andmy uncle, I hope I shall have fortitude enough to renounce him then.But I would fain avoid qualifying with the wretch, or to give him anexpectation which I intend not to answer. If I am mistress of my ownresolutions, my uncle himself shall not prevail with me to bind my soulin covenant with so vile a man.'
After a pause (for I was all attention) thus she proceeded:
It is easy for me, Mr. Lovelace, to see that further violences areintended me, if I comply not with your purposes, whatever they are, Iwill suppose them to be what you solemnly profess they are. But I havetold you as solemnly my mind, that I never will, that I never can beyour's; nor, if so, any man's upon earth. All vengeance, nevertheless,for the wrongs you have done me, I disclaim. I want but to slide intosome obscure corner, to hide myself from you and from every one whoonce loved me. The desire lately so near my heart, of a reconciliationwith my friends, is much abated. They shall not receive me now, if theywould. Sunk in mine own eyes, I now think myself unworthy of theirfavour. In the anguish of my soul, therefore, I conjure you, Lovelace,[tears in her eyes,] to leave me to my fate. In doing so, you will giveme a pleasure the highest I now can know.
Where, my dearest life----
No matter where. I will leave to Providence, when I am out of thishouse, the direction of my future steps. I am sensible enough of mydestitute condition. I know that I have not now a friend in the world.Even Miss Howe has given me up--or you are--But I would fain keep mytemper!--By your means I have lost them all--and you have been abarbarous enemy to me. You know you have.
She paused.
I could not speak.
The evils I have suffered, proceeded she, [turning from me,] howeverirreparable, are but temporarily evils. Leave me to my hopes of beingenabled to obtain the Divine forgiveness for the offence I have beendrawn in to give to my parents and to virtue; that so I may avoid theevils that are more than temporary. This is now all I have to wishfor. And what is it that I demand, that I have not a right to, andfrom which it is an illegal violence to withhold me?
It was impossible for me, I told her plainly, to comply.
I besought her to give me her hand as this very day. I could not livewithout her. I communicated to her my Lord's illness, as a reason whyI wished not to stay for her uncle's anniversary. I besought her tobless me with her consent; and, after the ceremony was passed, toaccompany me down to Berks. And thus, my dearest life, said I, willyou be freed from a house, to which you have conceived so great anantipathy.
This, thou wilt own, was a princely offer. And I was resolved to be asgood as my word. I thought I had killed my conscience, as I told thee,Belford, some time ago. But conscience, I find, though it may betemporarily stifled, cannot die, and, when it dare not speak aloud, willwhisper. And at this instant I thought I felt the revived varletess (onbut a slight retrograde motion) writhing round my pericardium like aserpent; and in the action of a dying one, (collecting all its force intoits head,) fix its plaguy fangs into my heart.
She hesitated, and looked down, as if irresolute. And this set myheart up at my mouth. And, believe me, I had instantly popt in uponme, in imagination, an old spectacled parson, with a white surplicethrown over a black habit, [a fit emblem of the halcyon office, which,under a benign appearance, often introduced a life of storms andtempests,] whining and snuffling through his nose the irrevocableceremony.
I hope now, my dearest life, said I, snatching her hand, and pressingit to my lips, that your silence bodes me good. Let me, my belovedcreature, have but your tacit consent; and this moment I will step outand engage a minister. And then I promised how much my whole futurelife should be devoted to her commands, and that I would make her thebest and tenderest of husbands.
At last, turning to me, I have told you my mind, Mr. Lovelace, said she.Think you, that I could thus solemnly--There she stopt--I am too much inyour power, proceeded she; your prisoner, rather than a person free tochoose for myself, or to say what I will do or be. But as a testimonythat you mean me well, let me instantly quit this house; and I will thengive you such an answer in writing, as best befits my unhappycircumstances.
And imaginest thou, fairest, thought I, that this will go down with aLovelace? Thou oughtest to have known that free-livers, like ministersof state, never part with a power put into their hands, without anequivalent of twice the value.
I pleaded, that if we joined hands this morning, (if not, to-morrow; ifnot, on Thursday, her uncle's birth-day, and in his presence); andafterwards, as I had proposed, set out for Berks; we should, of course,quit this house; and, on our return to town, should have in readinessthe house I was in treaty for.
She answered me not, but with tears and sighs; fond of believing what Ihoped I imputed her silence to the modesty of her sex. The dearcreature, (thought I,) solemnly as she began with me, is ruminating, ina sweet suspence, how to put into fit words the gentle purposes of hercondescending heart. But, looking in her averted face with a soothinggentleness, I plainly perceived, that it was resentment, and notbashfulness, that was struggling in her bosom.*
* The Lady, in her minutes, owns the difficulty she lay under to keepher temper in this conference. 'But when I found,' says she, 'that allmy entreaties were ineffectual, and that he was resolved to detain me,I could no longer withhold my impatience.'
At last she broke silence--I have no patience, said she, to find myselfa slave, a prisoner, in a vile house--Tell me, Sir, in so many wordstell me, whether it be, or be not, your intention to permit me to quitit?--To permit me the freedom which is my birthright as an Englishsubject?
Will not the consequence of your departure hence be that I shall loseyou for ever, Madam?--And can I bear the thoughts of that?
She flung from me--My soul disdains to hold parley with thee! were herviolent words.--But I threw myself at her feet, and took hold of herreluctant hand, and began to imprecate, avow, to promise--But thus thepassionate beauty, interrupting me, went on:
I am sick of thee, MAN!--One continued string of vows, oaths, andprotestations, varied only by time and place, fills thy mouth!--Whydetainest thou me? My heart rises aga
inst thee, O thou cruel implementof my brother's causeless vengeance.--All I beg of thee is, that thouwilt remit me the future part of my father's dreadful curse! thetemporary part, base and ungrateful as thou art! thou hast completed!
I was speechless!--Well I might!--Her brother's implement!--JamesHarlowe's implement!--Zounds, Jack! what words were these!
I let go her struggling hand. She took two or three turns cross theroom, her whole haughty soul in her air. Then approaching me, but insilence, turning from me, and again to me, in a milder voice--I see thyconfusion, Lovelace. Or is it thy remorse?--I have but one request tomake thee--the request so often repeated--That thou wilt this momentpermit me to quit this house. Adieu, then, let me say, for ever adieu!And mayest thou enjoy that happiness in this world, which thou hastrobbed me of; as thou hast of every friend I have in it!
And saying this, away she flung, leaving me in a confusion so great, thatI knew not what to think, say, or do!
But Dorcas soon roused me--Do you know, Sir, running in hastily, that mylady is gone down stairs!
No, sure!--And down I flew, and found her once more at the street-door,contending with Polly Horton to get out.
She rushed by me into the fore parlour, and flew to the window, andattempted once more to throw up the sash--Good people! good people! criedshe.
I caught her in my arms, and lifted her from the window. But beingafraid of hurting the charming creature, (charming in her very rage,)she slid through my arms on the floor.--Let me die here! let me die here!were her words; remaining jointless and immovable, till Sally and Mrs.Sinclair hurried in.
She was visibly terrified at the sight of the old wretch; while I(sincerely affected) appealed, Bear witness, Mrs. Sinclair!--bearwitness, Miss Martin!--Miss Horton!--Every one bear witness, that Ioffer not violence to this beloved creature!
She then found her feet--O house [look towards the windows, and all roundher, O house,] contrived on purpose for my ruin! said she--but let notthat woman come into my presence--not that Miss Horton neither, who wouldnot have dared to controul me, had she not been a base one!--
Hoh, Sir! Hoh, Madam! vociferated the old dragon, her armed kemboed, andflourishing with one foot to the extent of her petticoats--What's adohere about nothing! I never knew such work in my life, between a chickenof a gentleman and a tiger of a lady!--
She was visibly affrighted: and up stairs she hastened. A bad woman iscertainly, Jack, more terrible to her own sex than even a bad man.
I followed her up. She rushed by her own apartment into the dining-room:no terror can make her forget her punctilio.
To recite what passed there of invective, exclamations, threatenings,even of her own life, on one side; of expostulations, supplications, andsometimes menaces, on the other; would be too affecting; and, after myparticularity in like scenes, these things may as well be imagined asexpressed.
I will therefore only mention, that, at length, I extorted a concessionfrom her. She had reason* to think it would have been worse for her onthe spot, if she had not made it. It was, That she would endeavour tomake herself easy till she saw what next Thursday, her uncle's birth-day,would produce. But Oh! that it were not a sin, she passionatelyexclaimed on making this poor concession, to put and end to her own life,rather than yield to give me but that assurance!
* The Lady mentions, in her memorandum-book, that she had no other way,as is apprehended, to save herself from instant dishonour, but by makingthis concession. Her only hope, now, she says, if she cannot escape byDorcas's connivance, (whom, nevertheless she suspects,) is to find a wayto engage the protection of her uncle, and even of the civil magistrate,on Thursday next, if necessary. 'He shall see,' says she, 'tame andtimid as he thought me, what I dare to do, to avoid so hated acompulsion, and a man capable of a baseness so premeditatedly vile andinhuman.'
This, however, shows me, that she is aware that the reluctantly-givenassurance may be fairly construed into a matrimonial expectation on myside. And if she will now, even now, look forward, I think, from myheart, that I will put on her livery, and wear it for life.
What a situation am I in, with all my cursed inventions! I am puzzled,confounded, and ashamed of myself, upon the whole. To take such pains tobe a villain!--But (for the fiftieth time) let me ask thee, Who wouldhave thought that there had been such a woman in the world?--Nevertheless, she had best take care that she carries not her obstinacymuch farther. She knows not what revenge for slighted love will make medo.
The busy scenes I have just passed through have given emotions to myheart, which will not be quieted one while. My heart, I see,(on re-perusing what I have written,) has communicated its tremors to myfingers; and in some places the characters are so indistinct andunformed, that thou'lt hardly be able to make them out. But if one halfof them is only intelligible, that will be enough to expose me to thycontempt, for the wretched hand I have made of my plots and contrivances.--But surely, Jack, I have gained some ground by this promise.
And now, one word to the assurances thou sendest me, that thou hast notbetrayed my secrets in relation to this charming creature. Thou mightesthave spared them, Belford. My suspicions held no longer than while Iwrote about them.* For well I knew, when I allowed myself time to think,that thou hadst no principles, no virtue, to be misled by. A great dealof strong envy, and a little of weak pity, I knew to be thy motives.Thou couldst not provoke my anger, and my compassion thou ever hadst; andart now more especially entitled to it; because thou art a pityfulfellow.
All thy new expostulations in my beloved's behalf I will answer when Isee thee.