MR. LOVELACE, TO JOHN BELFORD, ESQ.
SUNDAY, AUG. 13.
I don't know what a devil ails me; but I never was so much indisposed in
my life. At first, I thought some of my blessed relations here had got a
dose administered to me, in order to get the whole house to themselves.
But, as I am the hopes of the family, I believe they would not be so
wicked.
I must lay down my pen. I cannot write with any spirit at all. What a
plague can be the matter with me!
***
Lord M. paid me just now a cursed gloomy visit, to ask how I do after
bleeding. His sisters both drove away yesterday, God be thanked. But
they asked not my leave; and hardly bid me good-bye. My Lord was more
tender, and more dutiful, than I expected. Men are less unforgiving than
women. I have reason to say so, I am sure. For, besides implacable Miss
Harlowe, and the old Ladies, the two Montague apes han't been near me
yet.
***
Neither eat, drink, nor sleep!--a piteous case, Jack! If I should die
like a fool now, people would say Miss Harlowe had broken my heart.--That
she vexes me to the heart, is certain.
Confounded squeamish! I would fain write it off. But must lay down my
pen again. It won't do. Poor Lovelace!----What a devil ails thee?
***
Well, but now let's try for't--Hoy--Hoy--Hoy! Confound me for a gaping
puppy, how I yawn!--Where shall I begin? at thy executorship--thou shalt
have a double office of it: for I really think thou mayest send me a
coffin and a shroud. I shall be ready for them by the time they can come
down.
What a little fool is this Miss Harlowe! I warrant she'll now repent
that she refused me. Such a lovely young widow--What a charming widow
would she have made! how would she have adorned the weeds! to be a widow
in the first twelve months is one of the greatest felicities that can
befal a fine woman. Such pretty employment in new dismals, when she had
hardly worn round her blazing joyfuls! Such lights, and such shades! how
would they set off one another, and be adorned by the wearer!--
Go to the devil!--I will write!--Can I do anything else?
They would not have me write, Belford.--I must be ill indeed, when I
can't write.
***
But thou seemest nettled, Jack! Is it because I was stung? It is not
for two friends, any more than for man and wife, to be out of patience
at one time.--What must be the consequence if they are?--I am in no
fighting mood just now: but as patient and passive as the chickens that
are brought me in broth--for I am come to that already.
But I can tell thee, for all this, be thy own man, if thou wilt, as to
the executorship, I will never suffer thee to expose my letters. They
are too ingenuous by half to be seen. And I absolutely insist upon it,
that, on receipt of this, thou burn them all.
I will never forgive thee that impudent and unfriendly reflection, of my
cavaliering it here over half a dozen persons of distinction: remember,
too, thy words poor helpless orphan--these reflections are too serious,
and thou art also too serious, for me to let these things go off as
jesting; notwithstanding the Roman style* is preserved; and, indeed, but
just preserved. By my soul, Jack, if I had not been taken thus
egregiously cropsick, I would have been up with thee, and the lady too,
before now.
* For what these gentlemen mean by the Roman style, see Vol. I. Letter
XXXI. in the first note.
But write on, however: and send me copies, if thou canst, of all that
passes between our Charlotte and Miss Harlowe. I'll take no notice of
what thou communicatest of that sort. I like not the people here the
worse for their generous offer to the lady. But you see she is as proud
as implacable. There's no obliging her. She'd rather sell her clothes
than be beholden to any body, although she would oblige by permitting the
obligation.
O Lord! O Lord!--Mortal ill!--Adieu, Jack!
***
I was forced to leave off, I was so ill, at this place. And what dost
think! why Lord M. brought the parson of the parish to pray by me; for
his chaplain is at Oxford. I was lain down in my night-gown over my
waistcoat, and in a doze: and, when I opened my eyes, who should I see,
but the parson kneeling on one side the bed; Lord M. on the other; Mrs.
Greme, who had been sent for to tend me, as they call it, at the feet!
God be thanked, my Lord, said I in an ecstasy!--Where's Miss?--for I
supposed they were going to marry me.
They thought me delirious at first; and prayed louder and louder.
This roused me: off the bed I started; slid my feet into my slippers;
put my hand in my waistcoat pocket, and pulled out thy letter with my
beloved's meditation in it! My Lord, Dr. Wright, Mrs. Greme, you have
thought me a very wicked fellow: but, see! I can read you as good as you
can read me.
They stared at one another. I gaped, and read, Poor mo--or--tals the
cau--o--ause of their own--their own mi--ser--ry.
It is as suitable to my case, as to the lady's, as thou'lt observe, if
thou readest it again.* At the passage where it is said, That when a man
is chastened for sin, his beauty consumes away, I stept to the glass: A
poor figure, by Jupiter, cried I!--And they all praised and admired me;
lifted up their hands and their eyes; and the doctor said, he always
thought it impossible, that a man of my sense could be so wild as the
world said I was. My Lord chuckled for joy; congratulated me; and, thank
my dear Miss Harlowe, I got high reputation among good, bad, and
indifferent. In short, I have established myself for ever with all here.
--But, O Belford, even this will not do--I must leave off again.
* See Vol. VII. Letter LXXXI.
***
A visit from the Montague sisters, led in by the hobbling Peer, to
congratulate my amendment and reformation both in one. What a lucky
event this illness with this meditation in my pocket; for we were all to
pieces before! Thus, when a boy, have I joined with a crowd coming out
of church, and have been thought to have been there myself.
I am incensed at the insolence of the young Levite. Thou wilt highly
oblige me, if thou'lt find him out, and send me his ears in the next
letter.
My beloved mistakes me, if she thinks I proposed her writing to me as an
alternative that should dispense with my attendance upon her. That it
shall not do, nor did I intend it should, unless she pleased me better in
the contents of her letter than she has done. Bid her read again. I
gave no such hopes. I would have been with her in spite of you both, by
to-morrow, at farthest, had I not been laid by the heels thus, like a
helpless miscreant.
But I grow better and better every hour, I say: the doctor says not: but
I am sure I know best: and I will soon be in London, depend on't. But
say nothing of this to my dear, cruel, and implacable Miss Harlowe.