I beg, Madam, but one word----

Not one, Sir, till you have taken back what you have let fall. I doubt

not either the honour, or the kindness, of your offer; but you must not

say one word more on this subject. I cannot bear it.

She was stooping, but with pain. I therefore prevented her; and besought

her to forgive me for a tender, which, I saw, had been more discomposing

to her than I had hoped (from the purity of my intentions) it would be.

But I could not bear to think that such a mind as her's should be

distressed: since the want of the conveniencies she was used to abound in

might affect and disturb her in the divine course she was in.

You are very kind to me, Sir, said she, and very favourable in your

opinion of me. But I hope that I cannot now be easily put out of my

present course. My declining health will more and more confirm me in it.

Those who arrested and confined me, no doubt, thought they had fallen

upon the most ready method to distress me so as to bring me into all

their measures. But I presume to hope that I have a mind that cannot be

debased, in essential instances, by temporal calamities.

Little do those poor wretches know of the force of innate principles,

(forgive my own implied vanity, was her word,) who imagine, that a

prison, or penury, can bring a right-turned mind to be guilty of a wilful

baseness, in order to avoid such short-lived evils.

She then turned from me towards the window, with a dignity suitable to her

words; and such as showed her to be more of soul than of body at that

instant.

What magnanimity!--No wonder a virtue so solidly founded could baffle all

thy arts: and that it forced thee (in order to carry thy accursed point)

to have recourse to those unnatural ones, which robbed her of her

charming senses.

The women were extremely affected, Mrs. Lovick especially; who said,

whisperingly to Mrs. Smith, We have an angel, not a woman, with us, Mrs.

Smith!

I repeated my offers to write to any of her friends; and told her, that,

having taken the liberty to acquaint Dr. H. with the cruel displeasure of

her relations, as what I presumed lay nearest to her heart, he had

proposed to write himself, to acquaint her friends how ill she was, if

she would not take it amiss.

It was kind in the Doctor, she said: but begged, that no step of that

sort might be taken without her knowledge or consent. She would wait to

see what effects her letter to her sister would have. All she had to

hope for was, that her father would revoke his malediction, previous to

the last blessing she should then implore. For the rest, her friends

would think she could not suffer too much; and she was content to suffer:

for now nothing could happen that could make her wish to live.

Mrs. Smith went down; and, soon returning, asked, if the lady and I would

not dine with her that day; for it was her wedding-day. She had engaged

Mrs. Lovick she said; and should have nobody else, if we would do her

that favour.

The charming creature sighed, and shook her head.--Wedding-day, repeated

she!--I wish you, Mrs. Smith, many happy wedding-days!--But you will

excuse me.

Mr. Smith came up with the same request. They both applied to me.

On condition the lady would, I should make no scruple; and would suspend

an engagement: which I actually had.

She then desired they would all sit down. You have several times, Mrs.

Lovick and Mrs. Smith, hinted your wishes, that I would give you some

little history of myself: now, if you are at leisure, that this

gentleman, who, I have reason to believe, knows it all, is present, and

can tell you if I give it justly, or not, I will oblige your curiosity.

They all eagerly, the man Smith too, sat down; and she began an account

of herself, which I will endeavour to repeat, as nearly in her own words

as I possibly can: for I know you will think it of importance to be

apprized of her manner of relating your barbarity to her, as well as what

her sentiments are of it; and what room there is for the hopes your

friends have in your favour for her.

'At first when I took these lodgings, said she, I thought of staying but

a short time in them; and so Mrs. Smith, I told you: I therefore avoided

giving any other account of myself than that I was a very unhappy young

creature, seduced from good, and escaped from very vile wretches.

'This account I thought myself obliged to give, that you might the less

wonder at seeing a young creature rushing through your shop, into your

back apartment, all trembling and out of breath; an ordinary garb over my

own; craving lodging and protection; only giving my bare word, that you

should be handsomely paid: all my effects contained in a

pocket-handkerchief.

'My sudden absence, for three days and nights together when arrested,

must still further surprise you: and although this gentleman, who,

perhaps, knows more of the darker part of my story, than I do myself, has

informed you (as you, Mrs. Lovick, tell me) that I am only an unhappy,

not a guilty creature; yet I think it incumbent upon me not to suffer

honest minds to be in doubt about my character.

'You must know, then, that I have been, in one instance (I had like to

have said but in one instance; but that was a capital one) an undutiful

child to the most indulgent of parents: for what some people call cruelty

in them, is owing but to the excess of their love, and to their

disappointment, having had reason to expect better from me.

'I was visited (at first, with my friends connivance) by a man of birth

and fortune, but of worse principles, as it proved, than I believed any

man could have. My brother, a very headstrong young man, was absent at

that time; and, when he returned, (from an old grudge, and knowing the

gentleman, it is plain, better than I knew him) entirely disapproved of

his visits: and, having a great sway in our family, brought other

gentlemen to address me: and at last (several having been rejected) he

introduced one extremely disagreeable: in every indifferent person's eyes

disagreeable. I could not love him. They all joined to compel me to

have him; a rencounter between the gentleman my friends were set against,

and my brother, having confirmed them all his enemies.

'To be short; I was confined, and treated so very hardly, that, in a rash

fit, I appointed to go off with the man they hated. A wicked intention,

you'll say! but I was greatly provoked. Nevertheless, I repented, and

resolved not to go off with him: yet I did not mistrust his honour to me

neither; nor his love; because nobody thought me unworthy of the latter,

and my fortune was not to be despised. But foolishly (wickedly and

contrivingly, as my friends still think, with a design, as they imagine,

to abandon them) giving him a private meeting, I was tricked away; poorly

enough tricked away, I must needs say; though others who had been first

guilty of so rash a step as the meeting of him was, might have been so

deceived and surprised as well as I.

'After remaining some time at a farm-house in the country, and behaving

to me all the time with honour, he brought me to handsome lodgings in

town till still better provision could be made for me. But they proved

to be (as he indeed knew and designed) at a vile, a very vile creature's;

though it was long before I found her to be so; for I knew nothing of the

town, or its ways.

'There is no repeating what followed: such unprecedented vile arts!--For

I gave him no opportunity to take me at any disreputable advantage.'--

And here (half covering her sweet face, with her handkerchief put to her

tearful eyes) she stopt.

Hastily, as if she would fly from the hateful remembrance, she resumed:--

'I made escape afterward from the abominable house in his absence, and

came to your's: and this gentleman has almost prevailed on me to think,

that the ungrateful man did not connive at the vile arrest: which was

made, no doubt, in order to get me once more to those wicked lodgings:

for nothing do I owe them, except I were to pay them'--[she sighed, and

again wiped her charming eyes--adding in a softer, lower voice]--'for

being ruined.'

Indeed, Madam, said I, guilty, abominably guilty, as he is in all the

rest, he is innocent of this last wicked outrage.

'Well, and so I wish him to be. That evil, heavy as it was, is one of

the slightest evils I have suffered. But hence you'll observe, Mrs.

Lovick, (for you seemed this morning curious to know if I were not a

wife,) that I never was married.--You, Mr. Belford, no doubt, knew before

that I am no wife: and now I never will be one. Yet, I bless God, that

I am not a guilty creature!

'As to my parentage, I am of no mean family; I have in my own right, by

the intended favour of my grandfather, a fortune not contemptible:

independent of my father; if I had pleased; but I never will please.

'My father is very rich. I went by another name when I came to you

first: but that was to avoid being discovered to the perfidious man: who

now engages, by this gentleman, not to molest me.

'My real name you now know to be Harlowe: Clarissa Harlowe. I am not yet

twenty years of age.

'I have an excellent mother, as well as father; a woman of family, and

fine sense--worthy of a better child!--they both doated upon me.

'I have two good uncles: men of great fortune; jealous of the honour of

their family; which I have wounded.

'I was the joy of their hearts; and, with theirs and my father's, I had

three houses to call my own; for they used to have me with them by turns,

and almost kindly to quarrel for me; so that I was two months in the year

with the one; two months with the other; six months at my father's; and

two at the houses of others of my dear friends, who thought themselves

happy in me: and whenever I was at any one's, I was crowded upon with

letters by all the rest, who longed for my return to them.

'In short, I was beloved by every body. The poor--I used to make glad

their hearts: I never shut my hand to any distress, wherever I was--but

now I am poor myself!

'So Mrs. Smith, so Mrs. Lovick, I am not married. It is but just to tell

you so. And I am now, as I ought to be, in a state of humiliation and

penitence for the rash step which has been followed by so much evil.

God, I hope, will forgive me, as I am endeavouring to bring my mind to

forgive all the world, even the man who has ungratefully, and by dreadful

perjuries, [poor wretch! he thought all his wickedness to be wit!]

reduced to this a young creature, who had his happiness in her view, and

in her wish, even beyond this life; and who was believed to be of rank,

and fortune, and expectations, considerable enough to make it the

interest of any gentleman in England to be faithful to his vows to her.

But I cannot expect that my parents will forgive me: my refuge must be

death; the most painful kind of which I would suffer, rather than be the

wife of one who could act by me, as the man has acted, upon whose birth,

education, and honour, I had so much reason to found better expectations.

'I see, continued she, that I, who once was every one's delight, am now

the cause of grief to every one--you, that are strangers to me, are moved

for me! 'tis kind!--but 'tis time to stop. Your compassionate hearts,

Mrs. Smith and Mrs. Lovick, are too much touched,' [For the women sobbed,

and the man was also affected.] 'It is barbarous in me, with my woes,

thus to sadden your wedding-day.' Then turning to Mr. and Mrs. Smith--

'May you see many happy ones, honest, good couple!--how agreeable is it

to see you both join so kindly to celebrate it, after many years are gone

over you!--I once--but no more!--All my prospects of felicity, as to this

life, are at an end. My hopes, like opening buds or blossoms in an

over-forward spring, have been nipt by a severe frost!--blighted by an

eastern wind!--but I can but once die; and if life be spared me, but till

I am discharged from a heavy malediction, which my father in his wrath

laid upon me, and which is fulfilled literally in every article relating

to this world; that, and a last blessing, are all I have to wish for; and

death will be welcomer to me, than rest to the most wearied traveller

that ever reached his journey's end.'

And then she sunk her head against the back of her chair, and, hiding her

face with her handkerchief, endeavoured to conceal her tears from us.

Not a soul of us could speak a word. Thy presence, perhaps, thou

hardened wretch, might have made us ashamed of a weakness which perhaps

thou wilt deride me in particular for, when thou readest this!----

She retired to her chamber soon after, and was forced, it seems, to lie

down. We all went down together; and, for an hour and a half, dwelt upon

her praises; Mrs. Smith and Mrs. Lovick repeatedly expressing their

astonishment, that there could be a man in the world, capable of

offending, much more of wilfully injuring such a lady; and repeating,

that they had an angel in their house.--I thought they had; and that

as assuredly as there is a devil under the roof of good Lord M.

I hate thee heartily!--by my faith I do!--every hour I hate thee more

than the former!----

Clarissa Harlowe; or the history of a young lady — Volume 7 · 第 87 / 191 题