MISS CLARISSA HARLOWE, TO MISS HOWE FRIDAY MORNING, SEVEN O'CLOCK, APRIL
7.
My aunt Hervey, who is a very early riser, was walking in the garden
(Betty attending her, as I saw from my window this morning) when I
arose: for after such a train of fatigue and restless nights, I had
unhappily overslept myself: so all I durst venture upon, was, to step
down to my poultry-yard, and deposit mine of yesterday, and last night.
And I am just come up; for she is still in the garden. This prevents me
from going to resume my letter, as I think still to do; and hope it will
not be too late.
I said, I had unhappily overslept myself: I went to bed about half
an hour after two. I told the quarters till five; after which I dropt
asleep, and awaked not till past six, and then in great terror, from a
dream, which has made such an impression upon me, that, slightly as I
think of dreams, I cannot help taking this opportunity to relate it to
you.
'Methought my brother, my uncle Antony, and Mr. Solmes, had formed a
plot to destroy Mr. Lovelace; who discovering it, and believing I had a
hand in it, turned all his rage against me. I thought he made them all
fly to foreign parts upon it; and afterwards seizing upon me, carried
me into a church-yard; and there, notwithstanding, all my prayers and
tears, and protestations of innocence, stabbed me to the heart, and
then tumbled me into a deep grave ready dug, among two or three
half-dissolved carcases; throwing in the dirt and earth upon me with his
hands, and trampling it down with his feet.'
I awoke in a cold sweat, trembling, and in agonies; and still the
frightful images raised by it remain upon my memory.
But why should I, who have such real evils to contend with, regard
imaginary ones? This, no doubt, was owing to my disturbed imagination;
huddling together wildly all the frightful idea which my aunt's
communications and discourse, my letter to Mr. Lovelace, my own
uneasiness upon it, and the apprehensions of the dreaded Wednesday,
furnished me with.
*****