MR. LOVELACE, TO JOHN BELFORD, ESQ. FRIDAY NIGHT, OR RATHER SAT. MORN.
ONE O’CLOCK.
I thought I should not have had either time or inclination to write
another line before I got to M. Hall. But, having the first, must find
the last; since I can neither sleep, nor do any thing but write, if I
can do that. I am most confoundedly out of humour. The reason let it
follow; if it will follow—nor preparation for it from me.
I tried by gentleness and love to soften—What?—Marble. A heart
incapable either of love or gentleness. Her past injuries for ever in
her head. Ready to receive a favour; the permission to go to Hampstead:
but neither to deserve it, nor return any. So my scheme of the gentle
kind was soon given over.
I then wanted to provoke her: like a coward boy, who waits for the
first blow before he can persuade himself to fight, I half challenged
her to challenge or defy me. She seemed aware of her danger; and would
not directly brave my resentment: but kept such a middle course, that I
neither could find a pretence to offend, nor reason to hope: yet she
believed my tale, that her uncle would come to Kentish-town, and seemed
not to apprehend that Tomlinson was an impostor.
She was very uneasy, upon the whole, in my company: wanted often to
break from me: yet so held me to my purpose of permitting her to go to
Hampstead, that I knew not how to get off it; although it was
impossible, in my precarious situation with her, to think of performing
it.
In this situation; the women ready to assist; and, if I proceeded not,
as ready to ridicule me; what had I left me, but to pursue the
concerted scheme, and to seek a pretence to quarrel with her, in order
to revoke my promised permission, and to convince her that I would not
be upbraided as the most brutal of ravishers for nothing?
I had agreed with the women, that if I could not find a pretence in her
presence to begin my operations, the note should lie in my way, and I
was to pick it up, soon after her retiring from me. But I began to
doubt at near ten o’clock, (so earnest was she to leave me, suspecting
my over-warm behaviour to her, and eager grasping of her hand two or
three times, with eye-strings, as I felt, on the strain, while her eyes
showed uneasiness and apprehension,) that if she actually retired for
the night, it might be a chance whether it would be easy to come at her
again. Loth, therefore, to run such a risk, I stept out a little after
ten, with intent to alter the preconcerted disposition a little; saying
I would attend her again instantly. But as I returned I met her at the
door, intending to withdraw for the night. I could not persuade her to
go back: nor had I presence of mind (so full of complaisance as I was
to her just before) to stay her by force: so she slid through my hands
into her own apartment. I had nothing to do, therefore, but to let my
former concert take place.
I should have promised (but care not for order of time, connection, or
any thing else) that, between eight and nine in the evening, another
servant of Lord M. on horseback came, to desire me to carry down with
me Dr. S., the old peer having been once (in extremis, as they judge he
is now) relieved and reprieved by him. I sent and engaged the doctor to
accompany me down: and am to call upon him by four this morning: or the
devil should have both my Lord and the Doctor, if I’d stir till I got
all made up.
Poke thy damn’d nose forward into the event, if thou wilt—Curse me if
thou shalt have it till its proper time and place. And too soon then.
She had hardly got into her chamber, but I found a little paper, as I
was going into mine, which I took up; and opening it, (for it was
carefully pinned in another paper,) what should it be but a promissory
note, given as a bribe, with a further promise of a diamond ring, to
induce Dorcas to favour her mistress’s escape?
How my temper changed in a moment!—Ring, ring, ring, ring, I my bell,
with a violence enough to break the string, and as if the house were on
fire.
Every devil frighted into active life: the whole house in an uproar. Up
runs Will.—Sir—Sir—Sir!—Eyes goggling, mouth distended—Bid the damn’d
toad Dorcas come hither, (as I stood at the stair-head,) in a horrible
rage, and out of breath, cried I.
In sight came the trembling devil—but standing aloof, from the report
made her by Will. of the passion I was in, as well as from what she had
heard.
Flash came out my sword immediately; for I had it ready on—Cursed,
confounded, villanous bribery and corruption——
Up runs she to her lady’s door, screaming out for safety and
protection.
Good your honour, interposed Will., for God’s sake!—O Lord, O
Lord!—receiving a good cuff.—
Take that, varlet, for saving the ungrateful wretch from my vengeance.
Wretch! I intended to say; but if it were some other word of like
ending, passion must be my excuse.
Up ran two or three of the sisterhood, What’s the matter! What’s the
matter!
The matter! (for still my beloved opened not the door; on the contrary,
drew another bolt,) This abominable Dorcas!—(call her aunt up!—let her
see what a traitress she has placed about me!—and let her bring the
toad to answer for herself)—has taken a bribe, a provision for life, to
betray her trust; by that means to perpetuate a quarrel between a man
and his wife, and frustrate for ever all hopes of reconciliation
between us!
Let me perish, Belford, if I have patience to proceed with the farce!