MR. LOVELACE, TO JOHN BELFORD, ESQ.
[IN ANSWER TO LETTER LXIV. OF THIS VOLUME.]
WEDN. MORN. SEPT. 6.
And is she somewhat better?--Blessings upon thee without number or
measure! Let her still be better and better! Tell me so at least, if
she be not so: for thou knowest not what a joy that poor temporary
reprieve, that she will hold out yet a day or two, gave me.
But who told this hard-hearted and death-pronouncing doctor that she will
hold it no longer? By what warrant says he this? What presumption in
these parading solemn fellows of a college, which will be my contempt to
the latest hour of my life, if this brother of it (eminent as he is
deemed to be) cannot work an ordinary miracle in her favour, or rather in
mine!
Let me tell thee, Belford, that already he deserves the utmost contempt,
for suffering this charming clock to run down so low. What must be his
art, if it could not wind it up in a quarter of the time he has attended
her, when, at his first visits, the springs and wheels of life and motion
were so god, that they seemed only to want common care and oiling!
I am obliged to you for endeavouring to engage her to see me. 'Twas
acting like a friend. If she had vouchsafed me that favour, she should
have seen at her feet the most abject adorer that ever kneeled to
justly-offended beauty.
What she bid you, and what she forbid you, to tell me, (the latter for
tender considerations:) that she forgives me; and that, could she have
made me a good man, she would have made me a happy one! That she even
loved me! At such a moment to own that she once loved me! Never before
loved any man! That she prays for me! That her last tear should be shed
for me, could she by it save a soul, doomed, without her, to perdition!--
O Belford! Belford! I cannot bear it!--What a dog, what a devil have I
been to a goodness so superlative!--Why does she not inveigh against me?
--Why does she not execrate me?--O the triumphant subduer! Ever above
me!--And now to leave me so infinitely below her!
Marry and repair, at any time; this, wretch that I was, was my plea to
myself. To give her a lowering sensibility; to bring her down from among
the stars which her beamy head was surrounded by, that my wife, so
greatly above me, might not despise me; this was one of my reptile
motives, owing to my more reptile envy, and to my consciousness of
inferiority to her!--Yet she, from step to step, from distress to
distress, to maintain her superiority; and, like the sun, to break out
upon me with the greater refulgence for the clouds that I had contrived
to cast about her!--And now to escape me thus!--No power left me to
repair her wrongs!--No alleviation to my self-reproach!--No dividing of
blame with her!--
Tell her, O tell her, Belford, that her prayers and wishes, her
superlatively-generous prayers and wishes, shall not be vain: that I can,
and do repent--and long have repented.--Tell her of my frequent deep
remorses--it was impossible that such remorses should not at last produce
effectual remorse--yet she must not leave me--she must live, if she would
wish to have my contrition perfect--For what can despair produce?
***
I will do every thing you would have me do, in the return of your
letters. You have infinitely obliged me by this last, and by pressing
for an admission for me, though it succeeded not.
Once more, how could I be such a villain to so divine a creature! Yet
love her all the time, as never man loved woman!--Curse upon my
contriving genius!--Curse upon my intriguing head, and upon my seconding
heart!--To sport with the fame, with the honour, with the life, of such
an angel of a woman!--O my d----d incredulity! That, believing her to be
a woman, I must hope to find her a woman! On my incredulity, that there
could be such virtue (virtue for virtue's sake) in the sex, founded I my
hope of succeeding with her.
But say not, Jack, that she must leave us yet. If she recover, and if I
can but re-obtain her favour, then, indeed, will life be life to me. The
world never saw such an husband as I will make. I will have no will but
her's. She shall conduct me in all my steps. She shall open and direct
my prospects, and turn every motion of my heart as she pleases.
You tell me, in your letter, that at eleven o'clock she had sweet rest;
and my servant acquaints me, from Mrs. Smith, that she has had a good
night. What hopes does this fill me with! I have given the fellow five
guineas for his good news, to be divided between him and his
fellow-servant.
Dear, dear Jack! confirm this to me in thy next--for Heaven's sake, do!--
Tell the doctor I'll make a present of a thousand guineas if he recover
her. Ask if a consultation then be necessary.
Adieu, dear Belford! Confirm, I beseech thee, the hopes that now, with
sovereign gladness, have taken possession of a heart, that, next to
her's, is
Thine.