Mrs. Sinclair shall attend you by-and-by, to know if you have any
commands for her.
I have no wish for any liberty, but that of refusing to see her, and one
more person.
What we came for, was to know if you had any proposals to make for your
enlargement.
Then, it seems, the officer put in. You have very good friends, Madam,
I understand. Is it not better that you make it up? Charges will run
high. A hundred and fifty guineas are easier paid than two hundred. Let
these ladies bail you, and go along with them; or write to your friends
to make it up.
Sally said, There is a gentleman who saw you taken, and was so much moved
for you, Miss Harlowe, that he would gladly advance the money for you,
and leave you to pay it when you can.
See, Lovelace, what cursed devils these are! This is the way, we know,
that many an innocent heart is thrown upon keeping, and then upon the
town. But for these wretches thus to go to work with such an angel as
this!--How glad would have been the devilish Sally, to have had the least
handle to report to thee a listening ear, or patient spirit, upon this
hint!
Sir, said she, with high indignation, to the officer, did not you say,
last night, that it was as much your business to protect me from the
insults of others, as from escaping?--Cannot I be permitted to see whom
I please? and to refuse admittance to those I like not?
Your creditors, Madam, will expect to see you.
Not if I declare I will not treat with them.
Then, Madam, you will be sent to prison.
Prison, friend!--What dost thou call thy house?
Not a prison, Madam.
Why these iron-barred windows, then? Why these double locks and bolts
all on the outside, none on the in?
And down she dropt into her chair, and they could not get another word
from her. She threw her handkerchief over her face, as one before, which
was soon wet with tears; and grievously, they own, she sobbed.
Gentle treatment, Lovelace!--Perhaps thou, as well as these wretches,
will think it so!
Sally then ordered a dinner, and said, They would soon be back a gain,
and see that she eat and drank, as a good christian should, comporting
herself to her condition, and making the best of it.
What has not this charming creature suffered, what has she not gone
through, in these last three months, that I know of!--Who would think
such a delicately-framed person could have sustained what she has
sustained! We sometimes talk of bravery, of courage, of fortitude!--Here
they are in perfection!--Such bravoes as thou and I should never have
been able to support ourselves under half the persecutions, the
disappointments, and contumelies, that she has met with; but, like
cowards, should have slid out of the world, basely, by some back-door;
that is to say, by a sword, by a pistol, by a halter, or knife;--but here
is a fine-principled woman, who, by dint of this noble consideration, as
I imagine, [What else can support her?] that she has not deserved the
evils she contends with; and that this world is designed but as a
transitory state of the probation; and that she is travelling to another
and better; puts up with all the hardships of the journey; and is not to
be diverted from her course by the attacks of thieves and robbers, or any
other terrors and difficulties; being assured of an ample reward at the
end of it.
If thou thinkest this reflection uncharacteristic from a companion and
friend of thine, imaginest thou, that I profited nothing by my long
attendance on my uncle in his dying state; and from the pious reflections
of the good clergyman, who, day by day, at the poor man's own request,
visited and prayed by him?--And could I have another such instance, as
this, to bring all these reflections home to me?
Then who can write of good persons, and of good subjects, and be capable
of admiring them, and not be made serious for the time? And hence may we
gather what a benefit to the morals of men the keeping of good company
must be; while those who keep only bad, must necessarily more and more
harden, and be hardened.
***
'Tis twelve of the clock, Sunday night--I can think of nothing but this
excellent creature. Her distresses fill my head and my heart. I was
drowsy for a quarter of an hour; but the fit is gone off. And I will
continue the melancholy subject from the information of these wretches.
Enough, I dare say, will arise in the visit I shall make, if admitted
to-morrow, to send by thy servant, as to the way I am likely to find her
in.
After the women had left her, she complained of her head and her heart;
and seemed terrified with apprehensions of being carried once more to
Sinclair's.
Refusing any thing for breakfast, Mrs. Rowland came up to her, and told
her, (as these wretches owned they had ordered her, for fear she should
starve herself,) that she must and should have tea, and bread and butter:
and that, as she had friends who could support her, if she wrote to them,
it was a wrong thing, both for herself and them, to starve herself thus.
If it be for your own sakes, said she, that is another thing: let coffee,
or tea, or chocolate, or what you will, be got: and put down a chicken to
my account every day, if you please, and eat it yourselves. I will taste
it, if I can. I would do nothing to hinder you. I have friends will pay
you liberally, when they know I am gone.
They wondered, they told her, at her strange composure in such
distresses.
They were nothing, she said, to what she had suffered already from the
vilest of all men. The disgrace of seizing her in the street; multitudes
of people about her; shocking imputations wounding her ears; had indeed
been very affecting to her. But that was over.--Every thing soon would!
--And she should be still more composed, were it not for the
apprehensions of seeing one man, and one woman; and being tricked or
forced back to the vilest house in the world.
Then were it not better to give way to the two gentlewoman's offer to
bail her?--They could tell her, it was a very kind proffer; and what was
not to be met every day.
She believed so.
The ladies might, possibly, dispense with her going back to the house to
which she had such an antipathy. Then the compassionate gentleman, who
was inclined to make it up with her creditors on her own bond--it was
very strange to them she hearkened not to so generous a proposal.
Did the two ladies tell you who the gentleman was?--Or, did they say any
more on the subject?
Yes, they did! and hinted to me, said the woman, that you had nothing to
do but to receive a visit from the gentleman, and the money, they
believed, would be laid down on your own bond or note.
She was startled.
I charge you, said she, as you will answer it one day to my friends, I
charge you don't. If you do, you know not what may be the consequence.
They apprehended no bad consequence, they said, in doing their duty: and
if she knew not her own good, her friends would thank them for taking any
innocent steps to serve her, though against her will.
Don't push me upon extremities, man!--Don't make me desperate, woman!--I
have no small difficulty, notwithstanding the seeming composure you just
now took notice of, to bear, as I ought to bear, the evils I suffer. But
if you bring a man or men to me, be the pretence what it will----
She stopt there, and looked so earnestly, and so wildly, they said, that
they did not know but she would do some harm to herself, if they
disobeyed her; and that would be a sad thing in their house, and might be
their ruin. They therefore promised, that no man should be brought to
her but by her own consent.
Mrs. Rowland prevailed on her to drink a dish of tea, and taste some
bread and butter, about eleven on Saturday morning: which she probably
did to have an excuse not to dine with the women when they returned.
But she would not quit her prison-room, as she called it, to go into
their parlour.
'Unbarred windows, and a lightsomer apartment,' she said, 'had too
cheerful an appearance for her mind.'
A shower falling, as she spoke, 'What,' said she, looking up, 'do the
elements weep for me?'
At another time, 'The light of the sun was irksome to her. The sun
seemed to shine in to mock her woes.'
'Methought,' added she, 'the sun darting in, and gilding these iron bars,
plays upon me like the two women, who came to insult my haggard looks, by
the word beauty; and my dejected heart, by the word haughty airs!'
Sally came again at dinner-time, to see how she fared, as she told her;
and that she did not starve herself: and, as she wanted to have some talk
with her, if she gave her leave, she would dine with her.