Clarissa Harlowe; or the history of a young lady — Volume 2

by Samuel Richardson

  LETTER IX

  MISS CLARISSA HARLOWE, TO MISS HOWE FRIDAY MORNING, SIX O'CLOCK

  Mrs. Betty tells me, there is now nothing talked of but of my goingto my uncle Antony's. She has been ordered, she says, to get ready toattend me thither: and, upon my expressing my averseness to go, had theconfidence to say, That having heard me often praise the romanticnessof the place, she was astonished (her hands and eyes lifted up) that Ishould set myself against going to a house so much in my taste.

  I asked if this was her own insolence, or her young mistress'sobservation?

  She half-astonished me by her answer: That it was hard she could not saya good thing, without being robbed of the merit of it.

  As the wench looked as if she really thought she had said a good thing,without knowing the boldness of it, I let it pass. But, to say thetruth, this creature has surprised me on many occasions with hersmartness: for, since she has been employed in this controuling office,I have discovered a great deal of wit in her assurance, which I neversuspected before. This shews, that insolence is her talent: and thatFortune, in placing her as a servant to my sister, had not done sokindly by her as Nature; for that she would make a better figure as hercompanion. And indeed I can't help thinking sometimes, that I myself wasbetter fitted by Nature to be the servant of both, than the mistress ofthe one, or the servant of the other. And within these few months past,Fortune has acted by me, as if she were of the same mind.

  FRIDAY, TEN O'CLOCK

  Going down to my poultry-yard, just now, I heard my brother and sisterand that Solmes laughing and triumphing together. The high yew-hedgebetween us, which divides the yard from the garden, hindered them fromseeing me.

  My brother, as I found, has been reading part, or the whole perhaps, ofthe copy of his last letter--Mighty prudent, and consistent, you'll say,with their views to make me the wife of a man from whom they concealnot what, were I to be such, it would be kind in them to endeavour toconceal, out of regard to my future peace!--But I have no doubt, thatthey hate me heartily.

  Indeed, you was up with her there, brother, said my sister. You need nothave bid her not to write to you. I'll engage, with all her wit, she'llnever pretend to answer it.

  Why, indeed, said my brother, with an air of college-sufficiency, withwhich he abounds, (for he thinks nobody writes like himself,) I believeI have given her a choke-pear. What say you, Mr. Solmes?

  Why, Sir, said he, I think it is unanswerable. But will it notexasperate he more against me?

  Never fear, Mr. Solmes, said my brother, but we'll carry our point, ifshe do not tire you out first. We have gone too far in this method torecede. Her cousin Morden will soon be here: so all must be over beforethat time, or she'll be made independent of us all.

  There, Miss Howe, is the reason given for their jehu-driving.

  Mr. Solmes declared, that he was determined to persevere while mybrother gave him any hopes, and while my father stood firm.

  My sister told my brother, that he hit me charmingly on the reason whyI ought to converse with Mr. Solmes: but that he should not be so smartupon the sex, for the faults of this perverse girl.

  Some lively, and, I suppose, witty answer, my brother returned; for heand Mr. Solmes laughed outrageously upon it, and Bella, laughing too,called him a naughty man: but I heard no more of what they said; theywalked on into the garden.

  If you think, my dear, that what I have related did not again fire me,you will find yourself mistaken when you read at this place the enclosedcopy of my letter to my brother; struck off while the iron was red hot.

  No more call me meek and gentle, I beseech you.

  TO MR. JAMES HARLOWE

  FRIDAY MORNING.

  SIR,

  If, notwithstanding your prohibition, I should be silent, on occasion ofyour last, you would, perhaps, conclude, that I was consenting to go tomy uncle Antony's upon the condition you mention. My father must do ashe pleases with his child. He may turn me out of his doors, if he thinksfit, or give you leave to do it; but (loth as I am to say it) I shouldthink it very hard to be carried by force to any body's house, when Ihave one of my own to go to.

  Far be it from me, notwithstanding yours and my sister's provocations,to think of my taking my estate into my own hands, without my father'sleave: But why, if I must not stay any longer here, may I not bepermitted to go thither? I will engage to see nobody they would not haveme see, if this favour be permitted. Favour I call it, and am ready toreceive and acknowledge it as such, although my grandfather's will hasmade it a matter of right.

  You ask me, in a very unbrotherly manner, in the postscript to yourletter, if I have not some new proposals to make? I HAVE (since you putthe question) three or four; new ones all, I think; though I will bebold to say, that, submitting the case to any one person whom you havenot set against me, my old ones ought not to have been rejected. I thinkthis; why then should I not write it?--Nor have you any more reason tostorm at your sister for telling it you, (since you seem in your letterto make it your boast how you turned my mother and my aunt Herveyagainst me,) than I have to be angry with my brother, for treating me asno brother ought to treat a sister.

  These, then, are my new proposals.

  That, as above, I may not be hindered from going to reside (under suchconditions as shall be prescribed to me, which I will most religiouslyobserve) at my grandfather's late house. I will not again in this placecall it mine. I have reason to think it a great misfortune that ever itwas so--indeed I have.

  If this be not permitted, I desire leave to go for a month, or for whattime shall be thought fit, to Miss Howe's. I dare say my mother willconsent to it, if I have my father's permission to go.

  If this, neither, be allowed, and I am to be turned out of my father'shouse, I beg I may be suffered to go to my aunt Hervey's, where I willinviolably observe her commands, and those of my father and mother.

  But if this, neither, is to be granted, it is my humble request, that Imay be sent to my uncle Harlowe's, instead of my uncle Antony's. I meannot by this any disrespect to my uncle Antony: but his moat, with hisbridge threatened to be drawn up, and perhaps the chapel there, terrifyme beyond expression, notwithstanding your witty ridicule upon me forthat apprehension.

  If this likewise be refused, and if I must be carried to themoated-house, which used to be a delightful one to me, let it bepromised me, that I shall not be compelled to receive Mr. Solmes'svisits there; and then I will as cheerfully go, as ever I did.

  So here, Sir, are your new proposals. And if none of them answeryour end, as each of them tends to the exclusion of that ungenerouspersister's visits, be pleased to know, that there is no misfortune Iwill not submit to, rather than yield to give my hand to the man to whomI can allow no share in my heart.

  If I write in a style different from my usual, and different from whatI wished to have occasion to write, an impartial person, who knew what Ihave accidentally, within this hour past, heard from your mouth, and mysister's, and a third person's, (particularly the reason you givefor driving on at this violent rate, to wit, my cousin Morden'ssoon-expected arrival,) would think I have but too much reason for it.Then be pleased to remember, Sir, that when my whining vocatives havesubjected me to so much scorn and ridicule, it is time, were it but toimitate examples so excellent as you and my sister set me, that I shouldendeavour to assert my character, in order to be thought less an alien,and nearer of kin to you both, than either of you have of late seemed tosuppose me.

  Give me leave, in order to empty my female quiver at once, to add, thatI know no other reason which you can have for forbidding me to reply toyou, after you have written what you pleased to me, than that you areconscious you cannot answer to reason and to justice the treatment youhave given me.

  If it be otherwise, I, an unlearned, an unlogical girl, younger by neara third than yourself, will venture (so assured am I of the justice ofmy cause) to put my fate upon an issue with you: with you, Sir, who havehad the advantage of an academical education; whose mind must
have beenstrengthened by observation, and learned conversation, and who, pardonmy going so low, have been accustomed to give choke-pears to those youvouchsafe to write against.

  Any impartial person, your late tutor, for instance, or the pious andworthy Dr. Lewen, may be judge between us: and if either give it againstme, I will promise to resign to my destiny: provided, if it be givenagainst you, that my father will be pleased only to allow of my negativeto the person so violently sought to be imposed upon me.

  I flatter myself, Brother, that you will the readier come into thisproposal, as you seem to have a high opinion of your talents forargumentation; and not a low one of the cogency of the argumentscontained in your last letter. And if I can possibly have no advantagein a contention with you, if the justice of my cause affords me not any(as you have no opinion it will,) it behoves you, methinks, to shew toan impartial moderator that I am wrong, and you not so.

  If this be accepted, there is a necessity for its being carried onby the pen; the facts being stated, and agreed upon by both; and thedecision to be given, according to the force of the arguments each shallproduce in support of their side of the question: for give me leaveto say, I know too well the manliness of your temper, to offer at apersonal debate with you.

  If it be not accepted, I shall conclude, that you cannot defend yourconduct towards me; and shall only beg of you, that, for the future, youwill treat me with the respect due to a sister from a brother who wouldbe thought as polite as learned.

  And now, Sir, if I have seemed to shew some spirit, not foreign to therelation I have the honour to be to you, and to my sister; and which maybe deemed not altogether of a piece with that part of my character whichonce, it seems, gained me every one's love; be pleased to consider towhom, and to what it is owing; and that this part of that character wasnot dispensed with, till it subjected me to that scorn, and to thoseinsults, which a brother, who has been so tenacious of an independencevoluntarily given up by me, and who has appeared so exalted upon it,ought not to have shewn to any body, much less to a weak and defencelesssister; who is, notwithstanding, an affectionate and respectful one, andwould be glad to shew herself to be so upon all future occasions; as shehas in every action of her past life, although of late she has met withsuch unkind returns.

  CL. HARLOWE

  *****

  See, my dear, the force, and volubility, as I may say, of passion; forthe letter I send you is my first draught, struck off without a blot orerasure.

  *****

  FRIDAY, THREE O'CLOCK

  As soon as I had transcribed it, I sent it down to my brother by Mrs.Betty.

  The wench came up soon after, all aghast, with a Laud, Miss! What haveyou done?--What have you written? For you have set them all in a joyfuluproar!

  *****

  My sister is but this moment gone from me. She came up all in a flame;which obliged me abruptly to lay down my pen: she ran to me--

  O Spirit! said she; tapping my neck a little too hard. And is it come tothis at last--!

  Do you beat me, Bella?

  Do you call this beating you? only tapping you shoulder thus, saidshe; tapping again more gently--This is what we expected it would cometo--You want to be independent--My father has lived too long for you--!

  I was going to speak with vehemence; but she put her handkerchiefbefore my mouth, very rudely--You have done enough with your pen, meanlistener, as you are!--But know that neither your independent scheme,nor any of your visiting ones, will be granted you. Take your course,perverse one! Call in your rake to help you to an independence uponyour parents, and a dependence upon him!--Do so!--Prepare thismoment--resolve what you will take with you--to-morrow you go--dependupon it to-morrow you go!--No longer shall you stay here, watchingand creeping about to hearken to what people say--'Tis determined,child!--You go to-morrow--my brother would have come up to tell you so;but I persuaded him to the contrary--for I know not what had becomeof you, if he had--Such a letter! such an insolent, such aconceited challenger!--O thou vain creature! But prepare yourself, Isay--to-morrow you go--my brother will accept of your bold challenge;but it must be personal; and at my uncle Antony's--or perhaps at Mr.Solmes's--

  Thus she ran on, almost foaming with passion; till, quite out ofpatience, I said, No more of your violence, Bella--Had I known in whatway you designed to come up, you should not have found my chamber-dooropen--talk to your servant in this manner. Unlike you, as I bless God Iam, I am nevertheless your sister--and let me tell you, that I won't goto-morrow, nor next day, nor next day to that--except I am dragged awayby violence.

  What! not if your father or mother command it--Girl? said she, intendinganother word, by her pause and manner before it came out.

  Let it come to that, Bella; then I shall know what to say. But it shallbe from their own mouths, if I do--not from yours, nor you Betty's--Andsay another word to me, in this manner, and be the consequence what itmay, I will force myself into their presence; and demand what I havedone to be used thus!

  Come along, Child! Come along, Meekness--taking my hand, and leading metowards the door--Demand it of them now--you'll find both your despisedparents together!--What! does your heart fail you?--for I resisted,being thus insolently offered to be led, and pulled my hand from her.

  I want not to be led, said I; and since I can plead your invitation, Iwill go: and was posting to the stairs accordingly in my passion--butshe got between me and the door, and shut it--

  Let me first, Bold one, said she, apprize them of your visit--for yourown sake let me--for my brother is with them. But yet opening it again,seeing me shrink back--Go, if you will!--Why don't you go?--Why don'tyou go, Miss?--following me to my closet, whither I retired, with myheart full, and pulled the sash-door after me; and could no longer holdin my tears.

  Nor would I answer one word to her repeated aggravations, nor to herdemands upon me to open my door (for the key was on the inside); nor somuch as turn my head towards her, as she looked through the glass at me.And at last, which vexed her to the heart, I drew the silk curtain, thatshe should not see me, and down she went muttering all the way.

  Is not this usage enough to provoke a rashness never before thought of?

  As it is but too probable that I may be hurried away to my uncle'swithout being able to give you previous notice of it; I beg that as soonas you shall hear of such a violence, you would send to the usual place,to take back such of your letters as may not have reached my hands, orto fetch any of mine that may be there.

  May you, my dear, be always happy, prays you CLARISSA HARLOWE.

  I have received your four letters. But am in such a ferment, that Icannot at present write to them.