Lovel. It looks like capitulating, or else--

Col. It looks not like any such thing to me, Mr. Lovelace, who have as

good an opinion of your spirit as man can have. And what, pray, is the

part I act, and my motives for it? Are they not, in desiring that

justice may be done to my Cousin Clarissa Harlowe, that I seek to

establish the honour of Mrs. Lovelace, if matters can once be brought to

bear?

Lovel. Were she to honour me with her acceptance of that name, Mr.

Morden, I should not want you or any man to assert the honour of Mrs.

Lovelace.

Col. I believe it. But still she has honoured you with that

acceptance, she is nearer to me than to you, Mr. Lovelace. And I speak

this, only to show you that, in the part I take, I mean rather to deserve

your thanks than your displeasure, though against yourself, were there

occasion. Nor ought you take it amiss, if you rightly weigh the matter:

For, Sir, whom does a lady want protection against but her injurers? And

who has been her greatest injurer?--Till, therefore, she becomes entitled

to your protection, as your wife, you yourself cannot refuse me some

merit in wishing to have justice done my cousin. But, Sir, you were

going to say, that if it were not to look like capitulating, you would

hint the reasons my cousin gives against accepting such an honourable

mediation?

I then told him of my sincere offers of marriage: 'I made no difficulty,

I said, to own my apprehensions, that my unhappy behaviour to her had

greatly affected her: but that it was the implacableness of her friends

that had thrown her into despair, and given her a contempt for life.' I

told him, 'that she had been so good as to send me a letter to divert me

from a visit my heart was set upon making her: a letter on which I built

great hopes, because she assured me that in it she was going to her

father's; and that I might see her there, when she was received, if it

were not my own fault.

Col. Is it possible? And were you, Sir, thus earnest? And did she

send you such a letter?

Lord M. confirmed both; and also, that, in obedience to her desires, and

that intimation, I had come down without the satisfaction I had proposed

to myself in seeing her.

It is very true, Colonel, said I: and I should have told you this before:

but your heat made me decline it; for, as I said, it had an appearance of

meanly capitulating with you. An abjectness of heart, of which, had I

been capable, I should have despised myself as much as I might have

expected you would despise me.

Lord M. proposed to enter into the proof of all this. He said, in his

phraseological way, That one story was good till another was heard; and

that the Harlowe family and I, 'twas true, had behaved like so many

Orsons to one another; and that they had been very free with all our

family besides: that nevertheless, for the lady's sake, more than for

their's, or even for mine, (he could tell me,) he would do greater things

for me than they could ask, if she could be brought to have me: and that

this he wanted to declare, and would sooner have declared, if he could

have brought us sooner to patience, and a good understanding.

The Colonel made excuses for his warmth, on the score of his affection to

his cousin.

My regard for her made me readily admit them: and so a fresh bottle of

Burgundy, and another of Champagne, being put upon the table, we sat down

in good humour, after all this blustering, in order to enter closer into

the particulars of the case: which I undertook, at both their desires, to

do.

But these things must be the subject of another letter, which shall

immediately follow this, if it do not accompany it.

Mean time you will observe that a bad cause gives a man great

disadvantages: for I myself think that the interrogatories put to me with

so much spirit by the Colonel made me look cursedly mean; at the same

time that it gave him a superiority which I know not how to allow to the

best man in Europe. So that, literally speaking, as a good man would

infer, guilt is its own punisher: in that it makes the most lofty spirit

look like the miscreant he is--a good man, I say: So, Jack, proleptically

I add, thou hast no right to make the observation.

Clarissa Harlowe; or the history of a young lady — Volume 8 · 第 95 / 168 题