But, O Jack! Jack! Jack! I can write no more!
If you must have it all, you must!
Now, Belford, see us all sitting in judgment, resolved to punish the
fair bribress—I, and the mother, the hitherto dreaded mother, the
nieces Sally, Polly, the traitress Dorcas, and Mabell, a guard, as it
were, over Dorcas, that she might not run away, and hide herself:—all
pre-determined, and of necessity pre-determined, from the journey I was
going to take, and my precarious situation with her—and hear her
unbolt, unlock, unbar, the door; then, as it proved afterwards, put the
key into the lock on the outside, lock the door, and put it in her
pocket—Will. I knew, below, who would give me notice, if, while we were
all above, she should mistake her way, and go down stairs, instead of
coming into the dining-room: the street-door also doubly secured, and
every shutter to the windows round the house fastened, that no noise or
screaming should be heard—[such was the brutal preparation]—and then
hear her step towards us, and instantly see her enter among us,
confiding in her own innocence; and with a majesty in her person and
manner, that is natural to her; but which then shone out in all its
glory!—Every tongue silent, every eye awed, every heart quaking, mine,
in a particular manner sunk, throbless, and twice below its usual
region, to once at my throat:—a shameful recreant:—She silent too,
looking round her, first on me; then on the mother, no longer fearing
her; then on Sally, Polly, and the culprit Dorcas!—such the glorious
power of innocence exerted at that awful moment!
She would have spoken, but could not, looking down my guilt into
confusion. A mouse might have been heard passing over the floor: her
own light feet and rustling silks could not have prevented it; for she
seemed to tread air, and to be all soul. She passed backwards and
forwards, now towards me, now towards the door several times, before
speech could get the better of indignation; and at last, after twice or
thrice hemming to recover her articulate voice—‘O thou contemptible and
abandoned Lovelace, thinkest thou that I see not through this poor
villanous plot of thine, and of these thy wicked accomplices?
‘Thou, woman, [looking at the mother] once my terror! always my
dislike! but now my detestation! shouldst once more (for thine perhaps
was the preparation) have provided for me intoxicating potions, to rob
me of my senses——
‘And then, thus, wretch, [turning to me,] mightest thou more securely
have depended upon such a low contrivance as this!
‘And ye, vile women, who perhaps have been the ruin, body and soul, of
hundreds of innocents, (you show me how, in full assembly,) know, that
I am not married—ruined as I am, by your help, I bless God, I am not
married to this miscreant—and I have friends that will demand my honour
at your hands!—and to whose authority I will apply; for none has this
man over me. Look to it then, what farther insults you offer me, or
incite him to offer me. I am a person, though thus vilely betrayed, of
rank and fortune. I never will be his; and, to your utter ruin, will
find friends to pursue you: and now I have this full proof of your
detestable wickedness, and have heard your base incitements, will have
no mercy upon you!’
They could not laugh at the poor figure I made.—Lord! how every devil,
conscience-shaken, trembled!—
What a dejection must ever fall to the lot of guilt, were it given to
innocence always thus to exert itself!
‘And as for thee, thou vile Dorcas! Thou double deceiver!—whining out
thy pretended love for me!—Begone, wretch!—Nobody will hurt
thee!—Begone, I say!—thou has too well acted thy part to be blamed by
any here but myself—thou art safe: thy guilt is thy security in such a
house as this!—thy shameful, thy poor part, thou hast as well acted as
the low farce could give thee to act!—as well as they each of them (thy
superiors, though not thy betters), thou seest, can act theirs.—Steal
away into darkness! No inquiry after this will be made, whose the first
advances, thine or mine.’
And, as I hope to live, the wench, confoundedly frightened, slunk away;
so did her sentinel Mabell; though I, endeavouring to rally, cried out
for Dorcas to stay—but I believe the devil could not have stopt her,
when an angel bid her begone.
Madam, said I, let me tell you; and was advancing towards her with a
fierce aspect, most cursedly vexed, and ashamed too——
But she turned to me: ‘Stop where thou art, O vilest and most abandoned
of men!—Stop where thou art!—nor, with that determined face, offer to
touch me, if thou wouldst not that I should be a corps at thy feet!’
To my astonishment, she held forth a penknife in her hand, the point to
her own bosom, grasping resolutely the whole handle, so that there was
no offering to take it from her.
‘I offer not mischief to any body but myself. You, Sir, and ye women,
are safe from every violence of mine. The LAW shall be all my resource:
the LAW,’ and she spoke the word with emphasis, the LAW! that to such
people carries natural terror with it, and now struck a panic into
them.
No wonder, since those who will damn themselves to procure ease and
plenty in this world, will tremble at every thing that seems to
threaten their methods of obtaining that ease and plenty.——
‘The LAW only shall be my refuge!’——
The infamous mother whispered me, that it were better to make terms
with this strange lady, and let her go.
Sally, notwithstanding all her impudent bravery at other times, said,
If Mr. Lovelace had told them what was not true, of her being his
wife——
And Polly Horton, That she must needs say, the lady, if she were not my
wife, had been very much injured; that was all.
That is not now a matter to be disputed, cried I: you and I know,
Madam——
‘We do, said she; and I thank God, I am not thine—once more I thank God
for it—I have no doubt of the farther baseness that thou hast intended
me, by this vile and low trick: but I have my SENSES, Lovelace: and
from my heart I despise thee, thou very poor Lovelace!—How canst thou
stand in my presence!—Thou, that’——
Madam, Madam, Madam—these are insults not to be borne—and was
approaching her.
She withdrew to the door, and set her back against it, holding the
pointed knife to her heaving bosom; while the women held me, beseeching
me not to provoke the violent lady—for their house sake, and be curs’d
to them, they besought me—and all three hung upon me—while the truly
heroic lady braved me at that distance:
‘Approach me, Lovelace, with resentment, if thou wilt. I dare die. It
is in defence of my honour. God will be merciful to my poor soul! I
expect no more mercy from thee! I have gained this distance, and two
steps nearer me, and thou shalt see what I dare do!’——
Leave me, women, to myself, and to my angel!—[They retired at a
distance.]—O my beloved creature, how you terrify me! Holding out my
arms, and kneeling on one knee—not a step, not a step farther, except
to receive my death at that injured hand which is thus held up against
a life far dearer to me than my own! I am a villain! the blackest of
villains!—Say you will sheath your knife in the injurer’s, not the
injured’s heart, and then will I indeed approach you, but not else.
The mother twanged her d—n’d nose; and Sally and Polly pulled out their
handkerchiefs, and turned from us. They never in their lives, they told
me afterwards, beheld such a scene——
Innocence so triumphant: villany so debased, they must mean!
Unawares to myself, I had moved onward to my angel—‘And dost thou, dost
thou, still disclaiming, still advancing—dost thou, dost thou, still
insidiously move towards me?’—[And her hand was extended] ‘I dare—I
dare—not rashly neither—my heart from principle abhors the act, which
thou makest necessary!—God, in thy mercy! [lifting up her eyes and
hands] God, in thy mercy!’
I threw myself to the farther end of the room. An ejaculation, a silent
ejaculation, employing her thoughts that moment; Polly says the whites
of her lovely eyes were only visible: and, in the instant that she
extended her hand, assuredly to strike the fatal blow, [how the very
recital terrifies me!] she cast her eye towards me, and saw me at the
utmost distance the room would allow, and heard my broken voice—my
voice was utterly broken; nor knew I what I said, or whether to the
purpose or not—and her charming cheeks, that were all in a glow before,
turned pale, as if terrified at her own purpose; and lifting up her
eyes—‘Thank God!—thank God! said the angel—delivered for the present;
for the present delivered—from myself—keep, Sir, that distance;’
[looking down towards me, who was prostrate on the floor, my heart
pierced, as with an hundred daggers;] ‘that distance has saved a life;
to what reserved, the Almighty only knows!’—
To be happy, Madam; and to make happy!—And, O let me hope for your
favour for to-morrow—I will put off my journey till then—and may God—
Swear not, Sir!—with an awful and piercing aspect—you have too often
sworn!—God’s eye is upon us!—His more immediate eye; and looked
wildly.—But the women looked up to the ceiling, as if afraid of God’s
eye, and trembled. And well they might, and I too, who so very lately
had each of us the devil in our hearts.
If not to-morrow, Madam, say but next Thursday, your uncle’s birth-day;
say but next Thursday!
‘This I say, of this you may assure yourself, I never, never will be
your’s.—And let me hope, that I may be entitled to the performance of
your promise, to be permitted to leave this innocent house, as one
called it, (but long have my ears been accustomed to such inversions of
words), as soon as the day breaks.’
Did my perdition depend upon it, that you cannot, Madam, but upon
terms. And I hope you will not terrify me—still dreading the accursed
knife.
‘Nothing less than an attempt upon my honour shall make me desperate. I
have no view but to defend my honour: with such a view only I entered
into treaty with your infamous agent below. The resolution you have
seen, I trust, God will give me again, upon the same occasion. But for
a less, I wish not for it.—Only take notice, women, that I am no wife
of this man: basely as he has used me, I am not his wife. He has no
authority over me. If he go away by-and-by, and you act by his
authority to detain me, look to it.’
Then, taking one of the lights, she turned from us; and away she went,
unmolested.—Not a soul was able to molest her.
Mabell saw her, tremblingly, and in a hurry, take the key of her
chamber-door out of her pocket, and unlock it; and, as soon as she
entered, heard her double-lock, bar, and bolt it.
By her taking out her key, when she came out of her chamber to us, she
no doubt suspected my design: which was, to have carried her in my arms
thither, if she made such force necessary, after I had intimidated her;
and to have been her companion for that night.
She was to have had several bedchamber-women to assist to undress her
upon occasion: but from the moment she entered the dining-room with so
much intrepidity, it was absolutely impossible to think of prosecuting
my villanous designs against her.
This, this, Belford, was the hand I made of a contrivance from which I
expected so much!—And now I am ten times worse off than before.
Thou never sawest people in thy life look so like fools upon one
another, as the mother, her partners, and I, did, for a few minutes.
And at last, the two devilish nymphs broke out into insulting ridicule
upon me; while the old wretch was concerned for her house, the
reputation of her house. I cursed them all together; and, retiring to
my chamber, locked myself in.
And now it is time to set out: all I have gained, detection, disgrace,
fresh guilt by repeated perjuries, and to be despised by her I doat
upon; and, what is still worse to a proud heart, by myself.
Success, success in projects, is every thing. What an admirable
contriver did I think myself till now! Even for this scheme among the
rest! But how pitifully foolish does it now appear to me!—Scratch out,
erase, never to be read, every part of my preceding letters, where I
have boastingly mentioned it. And never presume to rally me upon the
cursed subject: for I cannot bear it.
But for the lady, by my soul, I love her. I admire her more than ever!
I must have her. I will have her still—with honour or without, as I
have often vowed. My cursed fright at her accidental bloody nose, so
lately, put her upon improving upon me thus. Had she threatened ME, I
should have soon been master of one arm, and in both! But for so
sincere a virtue to threaten herself, and not to offer to intimidate
any other, and with so much presence of mind, as to distinguish, in the
very passionate intention, the necessity of the act, defence of her
honour, and so fairly to disavow lesser occasions: showed such a
deliberation, such a choice, such a principle; and then keeping me so
watchfully at a distance that I could not seize her hand, so soon as
she could have given the fatal blow; how impossible not to be subdued
by so true and so discreet a magnanimity!
But she is not gone. She shall not go. I will press her with letters
for the Thursday. She shall yet be mine, legally mine. For, as to
cohabitation, there is no such thing to be thought of.
The Captain shall give her away, as proxy for her uncle. My Lord will
die. My fortune will help my will, and set me above every thing and
every body.
But here is the curse—she despises me, Jack!—What man, as I have
heretofore said, can bear to be despised—especially by his wife!—O
Lord!—O Lord! What a hand, what a cursed hand, have I made of this
plot!—And here ends
The history of the lady and the penknife!—The devil take the
penknife!—It goes against me to say,
God bless the lady!