My brother, Sir, may think me ruined; to the praise of your character, he
may think it impossible to be with you and be innocent. You have but too
well justified their harshest censures by every part of your conduct.
But now that I have escaped from you, and that I am out of the reach of
your mysterious devices, I will wrap myself up in mine own innocence,
[and then the passionate beauty folded her arms about herself,] and leave
to time, and to my future circumspection, the re-establishment of my
character. Leave me then, Sir, pursue me not!--
Good Heaven! [interrupting her]--and all this, for what?--Had I not
yielded to your entreaties, (forgive me, Madam,) you could not have
carried farther your resentments--
Wretch! Was it not crime enough to give occasion for those entreaties?
Wouldst thou make a merit to me, that thou didst not utterly ruin her
whom thou oughtest to have protected? Begone, man! (turning from me, her
face crimsoned over with passion.)--See me no more!--I cannot bear thee
in my sight!--
Dearest, dearest creature!
If I forgive thee, Lovelace--And there she stopped.--To endeavour,
proceeded she, to endeavour by premeditation, by low contrivances, by
cries of Fire! to terrify a poor creature who had consented to take a
wretched chance with thee for life!
For Heaven's sake,--offering to take her repulsing hand, as she was
flying from me towards the closet.
What hast thou to do to plead for the sake of Heaven in thy favour!--O
darkest of human minds!
Then turning from me, wiping her eyes, and again turning towards me, but
her sweet face half aside, What difficulties hast thou involved me in!
That thou hadst a plain path before thee, after thou hadst betrayed me
into thy power.--At once my mind takes in the whole of thy crooked
behaviour; and if thou thinkest of Clarissa Harlowe as her proud heart
tells her thou oughtest to think of her, thou wilt seek thy fortunes
elsewhere. How often hast thou provoked me to tell thee, that my soul
is above thee!
For Heaven's sake, Madam, for a soul's sake, which it is in your power
to save from perdition, forgive me the past offence. I am the greatest
villain on earth if it was a premeditated one; yet I presume not to
excuse myself. On your mercy I throw myself. I will not offer at any
plea but that of penitence. See but Captain Tomlinson.--See but Lady
Betty and my cousin; let them plead for me; let them be guarantees for
my honour.
If Captain Tomlinson come while I stay here, I may see him; but as for
you, Sir--
Dearest creature! let me beg of you not to aggravate my offence to the
Captain when he comes. Let me beg of you--
What askest thou? It is not that I shall be of party against myself?
That I shall palliate--
Do not charge me, Madam, interrupted I, with villainous premeditation!
--Do not give such a construction to my offence as may weaken your
uncle's opinion--as may strengthen your brother's--
She flung from me to the further end of the room, [she could go no
further,] and just then Mrs. Moore came up, and told her that dinner was
ready, and that she had prevailed upon Miss Rawlins to give her her
company.
You must excuse me, Mrs. Moore, said she. Miss Rawlins I hope also will
--but I cannot eat--I cannot go down. As for you, Sir, I suppose you
will think it right to depart hence; at least till the gentleman comes
whom you expect.
I respectfully withdrew into the next room, that Mrs. Moore might
acquaint her, (I durst not myself,) that I was her lodger and boarder,
as, whisperingly, I desired that she would; and meeting Miss Rawlins in
the passage, Dearest Miss Rawlins, said I, stand my friend; join with Mrs.
Moore to pacify my spouse, if she has any new flights upon my having
taken lodgings, and intending to board here. I hope she will have more
generosity than to think of hindering a gentlewoman from letting her
lodgings.
I suppose Mrs. Moore, (whom I left with my fair-one,) had apprized her of
this before Miss Rawlins went in; for I heard her say, while I withheld
Miss Rawlins,--'No, indeed: he is much mistaken--surely he does not think
I will.'
They both expostulated with her, as I could gather from bits and scraps
of what they said; for they spoke so low, that I could not hear any
distinct sentence, but from the fair perverse, whose anger made her
louder. And to this purpose I heard her deliver herself in answer to
different parts of their talk to her:--'Good Mrs. Moore, dear Miss
Rawlins, press me no further:--I cannot sit down at table with him!'
They said something, as I suppose in my behalf--'O the insinuating
wretch! What defence have I against a man, who, go where I will, can
turn every one, even of the virtuous of my sex, in his favour?'
After something else said, which I heard not distinctly--'This is
execrable cunning!--Were you to know his wicked heart, he is not without
hope of engaging you two good persons to second him in the vilest of his
machinations.'
How came she, (thought I, at the instant,) by all this penetration? My
devil surely does not play me booty. If I thought he did, I would marry,
and live honest, to be even with him.
I suppose then they urged the plea which I hinted to Miss Rawlins at
going in, that she would not be Mrs. Moore's hindrance; for thus she
expressed herself--'He will no doubt pay you your own price. You need
not question his liberality; but one house cannot hold us.--Why, if it
would, did I fly from him, to seek refuge among strangers?'
Then, in answer to somewhat else they pleaded--''Tis a mistake, Madam;
I am not reconciled to him, I will believe nothing he says. Has he not
given you a flagrant specimen of what a man he is, and of what his is
capable, by the disguises you saw him in? My story is too long, and my
stay here will be but short; or I could convince you that my resentments
against him are but too well founded.'
I suppose that they pleaded for her leave for my dining with them; for
she said--'I have nothing to say to that: it is your own house, Mrs.
Moore--it is your own table--you may admit whom you please to it, only
leave me at my liberty to choose my company.'
Then, in answer, as I suppose, to their offer of sending her up a plate--
'A bit of bread, if you please, and a glass of water; that's all I can
swallow at present. I am really very much discomposed. Saw you not how
bad I was? Indignation only could have supported my spirits!--
'I have no objections to his dining with you, Madam;' added she, in
reply, I suppose, to a farther question of the same nature--'But I will
not stay a night in the same house where he lodges.'
I presume Miss Rawlins had told her that she would not stay dinner: for
she said,--'Let me not deprive Mrs. Moore of your company, Miss Rawlins.
You will not be displeased with his talk. He can have no design upon
you.'
Then I suppose they pleaded what I might say behind her back, to make my
own story good:--'I care not what he says or what he thinks of me.
Repentance and amendment are all the harm I wish him, whatever becomes of
me!'
By her accent she wept when she spoke these last words.
They came out both of them wiping their eyes; and would have persuaded me
to relinquish the lodgings, and to depart till her uncle's friend came.
But I knew better. I did not care to trust the Devil, well as she and
Miss Howe suppose me to be acquainted with him, for finding her out
again, if once more she escaped me.
What I am most afraid of is, that she will throw herself among her own
relations; and, if she does, I am confident they will not be able to
withstand her affecting eloquence. But yet, as thou'lt see, the
Captain's letter to me is admirably calculated to obviate my
apprehensions on this score; particularly in that passage where it is
said, that her uncle thinks not himself at liberty to correspond directly
with her, or to receive applications from her--but through Captain
Tomlinson, as is strongly implied.*
* See Letter XXIV. of this volume.
I must own, (notwithstanding the revenge I have so solemnly vowed,) that
I would very fain have made for her a merit with myself in her returning
favour, and have owed as little as possible to the mediation of Captain
Tomlinson. My pride was concerned in this: and this was one of my
reasons for not bringing him with me.--Another was, that, if I were
obliged to have recourse to his assistance, I should be better able, (by
visiting without him,) to direct him what to say or do, as I should find
out the turn of her humour.
I was, however, glad at my heart that Mrs. Moore came up so seasonably
with notice that dinner was ready. The fair fugitive was all in all.
She had the excuse for withdrawing, I had time to strengthen myself; the
Captain had time to come; and the lady to cool.--Shakspeare advises
well:
Oppose not rage, whilst rage is in its force;
But give it way awhile, and let it waste.
The rising deluge is not stopt with dams;
Those it o'erbears, and drowns the hope of harvest.
But, wisely manag'd, its divided strength
Is sluic'd in channels, and securely drain'd:
And when its force is spent, and unsupply'd,
The residue with mounds may be restrain'd,
And dry-shod we may pass the naked ford.
I went down with the women to dinner. Mrs. Moore sent her fair boarder
up a plate, but she only ate a little bit of bread, and drank a glass of
water. I doubted not but she would keep her word, when it was once gone
out. Is she not an Harlowe? She seems to be enuring herself to
hardships, which at the worst she can never know; since, though she
should ultimately refuse to be obliged to me, or (to express myself more
suitable to my own heart,) to oblige me, every one who sees her must
befriend her.
But let me ask thee, Belford, Art thou not solicitous for me in relation
to the contents of the letter which the angry beauty had written and
dispatched away by man and horse; and for what may be Miss Howe's answer
to it? Art thou not ready to inquire, Whether it be not likely that Miss
Howe, when she knows of her saucy friend's flight, will be concerned
about her letter, which she must know could not be at Wilson's till after
that flight, and so, probably, would fall into my hands?--
All these things, as thou'lt see in the sequel, are provided for with as
much contrivance as human foresight can admit.
I have already told thee that Will. is upon the lookout for old Grimes--
old Grimes is, it seems, a gossiping, sottish rascal; and if Will. can
but light of him, I'll answer for the consequence; For has not Will. been
my servant upwards of seven years?