LETTER XVIII

MR. BELFORD, TO ROBERT LOVELACE, ESQ.

EDGEWARE, THURSDAY, MAY 4.

I know that thou art so abandoned a man, that to give thee the best

reasons in the world against what thou hast once resolved upon will be

but acting the madman whom once we saw trying to buffet down a hurricane

with his hat. I hope, however, that the lady's merit will still avail her

with thee. But, if thou persistest; if thou wilt avenge thyself on this

sweet lamb which thou hast singled out from a flock thou hatest, for the

faults of the dogs who kept it: if thou art not to be moved by beauty, by

learning, by prudence, by innocence, all shining out in one charming

object; but she must fall, fall by the man whom she has chosen for her

protector; I would not for a thousand worlds have thy crime to answer

for.

Upon my faith, Lovelace, the subject sticks with me, notwithstanding I

find I have not the honour of the lady's good opinion. And the more, when

I reflect upon her father's brutal curse, and the villainous hard-

heartedness of all her family. But, nevertheless, I should be desirous

to know (if thou wilt proceed) by what gradations, arts, and contrivances

thou effectest thy ingrateful purpose. And, O Lovelace, I conjure thee,

if thou art a man, let not the specious devils thou has brought her among

be suffered to triumph over her; yield to fair seductions, if I may so

express myself! if thou canst raise a weakness in her by love, or by arts

not inhuman; I shall the less pity her: and shall then conclude, that

there is not a woman in the world who can resist a bold and resolute

lover.

A messenger is just now arrived from my uncle. The mortification, it

seems, is got to his knee; and the surgeons declare that he cannot live

many days. He therefore sends for me directly, with these shocking

words, that I will come and close his eyes. My servant or his must of

necessity be in town every day on his case, or other affairs; and one of

them shall regularly attend you for any letter or commands. It will be

charity to write to me as often as you can. For although I am likely to

be a considerable gainer by the poor man's death, yet I cannot say that I

at all love these scenes of death and the doctor so near me. The doctor

and death I should have said; for that is the natural order, and

generally speaking, the one is but the harbinger to the other.

If, therefore, you decline to oblige me, I shall think you are displeased

with my freedom. But let me tell you, at the same, that no man has a

right to be displeased at freedoms taken with him for faults he is not

ashamed to be guilty of.

Clarissa Harlowe; or the history of a young lady — Volume 4 · 第 40 / 183 题