LETTER XXVII
MR. BELFORD, TO ROBERT LOVELACE, ESQ.THURSDAY NIGHT.
I was forced to take back my twenty guineas. How the women managed it Ican't tell, (I suppose they too readily found a purchaser for the richsuit;) but she mistrusted, that I was the advancer of the money; andwould not let the clothes go. But Mrs. Lovick has actually sold, forfifteen guineas, some rich lace worth three times the sum; out of whichshe repaid her the money she borrowed for fees to the doctor, in anillness occasioned by the barbarity of the most savage of men. Thouknowest his name!
The Doctor called on her in the morning it seems, and had a short debatewith her about fees. She insisted that he should take one every time hecame, write or not write; mistrusting that he only gave verbal directionsto Mrs. Lovick, or the nurse, to avoid taking any.
He said that it would be impossible for him, had he not been a physician,to forbear inquiries after the health and welfare of so excellent aperson. He had not the thought of paying her a compliment in decliningthe offered fee: but he knew her case could not so suddenly vary as todemand his daily visits. She must permit him, therefore, to inquire ofthe women below after her health; and he must not think of coming up, ifhe were to be pecuniarily rewarded for the satisfaction he was sodesirous to give himself.
It ended in a compromise for a fee each other time; which she unwillinglysubmitted to; telling him, that though she was at present desolate and indisgrace, yet her circumstances were, of right, high; and no expensescould rise so as to be scrupled, whether she lived or died. But shesubmitted, she added, to the compromise, in hopes to see him as often ashe had opportunity; for she really looked upon him, and Mr. Goddard, fromtheir kind and tender treatment of her, with a regard next to filial.
I hope thou wilt make thyself acquainted with this worthy Doctor whenthou comest to town; and give him thy thanks, for putting her intoconceit with the sex that thou hast given her so much reason to execrate.
Farewell.
LETTER XXVIII
MR. LOVELACE, TO JOHN BELFORD, ESQ.M. HALL, FRIDAY, JULY 21.
Just returned from an interview with this Hickman: a precise fop of afellow, as starched as his ruffles.
Thou knowest I love him not, Jack; and whom we love not we cannot allow amerit to! perhaps not the merit they should be granted. However, I am inearnest, when I say, that he seems to me to be so set, so prim, soaffected, so mincing, yet so clouterly in his person, that I dare engagefor thy opinion, if thou dost justice to him, and to thyself, that thounever beheldest such another, except in a pier-glass.
I'll tell thee how I play'd him off.
He came in his own chariot to Dormer's; and we took a turn in the garden,at his request. He was devilish ceremonious, and made a bushel ofapologies for the freedom he was going to take: and, after half a hundredhums and haws, told me, that he came--that he came--to wait on me--at therequest of dear Miss Howe, on the account--on the account--of MissHarlowe.
Well, Sir, speak on, said I: but give me leave to say, that if your bookbe as long as your preface, it will take up a week to read it.
This was pretty rough, thou'lt say: but there's nothing like balkingthese formalities at first. When they are put out of their road, theyare filled with doubts of themselves, and can never get into it again: sothat an honest fellow, impertinently attacked, as I was, has all the gamein his own hand quite through the conference.
He stroked his chin, and hardly knew what to say. At last, afterparenthesis within parenthesis, apologizing for apologies, in imitation,I suppose, of Swift's digression in praise of digressions--I presume--Ipresume, Sir, you were privy to the visit made to Miss Howe by the youngLadies your cousins, in the name of Lord M., and Lady Sarah Sadleir, andLady Betty Lawrance.
I was, Sir: and Miss Howe had a letter afterwards, signed by his Lordshipand by those Ladies, and underwritten by myself. Have you seen it, Sir?
I can't say but I have. It is the principal cause of this visit: forMiss Howe thinks your part of it is written with such an air of levity--pardon me, Sir--that she knows not whether you are in earnest or not, inyour address to her for her interest to her friend.*
* See Mr. Lovelace's billet to Miss Howe, Letter XIV. of this volume.
Will Miss Howe permit me to explain myself in person to her, Mr. Hickman?
O Sir, by no means. Miss Howe, I am sure, would not give you thattrouble.
I should not think it a trouble. I will most readily attend you, Sir, toMiss Howe, and satisfy her in all her scruples. Come, Sir, I will waitupon you now. You have a chariot. Are alone. We can talk as we ride.
He hesitated, wriggled, winced, stroked his ruffles, set his wig, andpulled his neckcloth, which was long enough for a bib.--I am not goingdirectly back to Miss Howe, Sir. It will be as well if you will be sogood as to satisfy Miss Howe by me.
What is it she scruples, Mr. Hickman?
Why, Sir, Miss Howe observes, that in your part of the letter, you say--but let me see, Sir--I have a copy of what you wrote, [pulling it out,]will you give me leave, Sir?--Thus you begin--Dear Miss Howe--
No offence, I hope, Mr. Hickman?
None in the least, Sir!--None at all, Sir!--Taking aim, as it were, toread.
Do you use spectacles, Mr. Hickman?
Spectacles, Sir! His whole broad face lifted up at me: Spectacles!--Whatmakes you ask me such a question? such a young man as I use spectacles,Sir!--
They do in Spain, Mr. Hickman: young as well as old, to save their eyes.--Have you ever read Prior's Alma, Mr. Hickman?
I have, Sir--custom is every thing in nations, as well as withindividuals: I know the meaning of your question--but 'tis not theEnglish custom.--
Was you ever in Spain, Mr. Hickman?
No, Sir: I have been in Holland.
In Holland, Sir?--Never to France or Italy?--I was resolved to travelwith him into the land of puzzledom.
No, Sir, I cannot say I have, as yet.
That's a wonder, Sir, when on the continent!
I went on a particular affair: I was obliged to return soon.
Well, Sir; you was going to read--pray be pleased to proceed.
Again he took aim, as if his eyes were older than the rest of him; andread, After what is written above, and signed by names and characters ofsuch unquestionable honour--to be sure, (taking off his eye,) nobodyquestions the honour of Lord M. nor that of the good Ladies who signedthe letter.
I hope, Mr. Hickman, nobody questions mine neither?
If you please, Sir, I will read on.--I might have been excused signing aname, almost as hateful to myself [you are pleased to say]--as I KNOW itis to YOU--
Well, Mr. Hickman, I must interrupt you at this place. In what I wroteto Miss Howe, I distinguished the word KNOW. I had a reason for it.Miss Howe has been very free with my character. I have never done herany harm. I take it very ill of her. And I hope, Sir, you come in hername to make excuses for it.
Miss Howe, Sir, is a very polite young lady. She is not accustomed totreat any man's character unbecomingly.
Then I have the more reason to take it amiss, Mr. Hickman.
Why, Sir, you know the friendship--
No friendship should warrant such freedoms as Miss Howe has taken with mycharacter.
(I believed he began to wish he had not come near me. He seemed quitedisconcerted.)
Have you not heard Miss Howe treat my name with great--
Sir, I come not to offend or affront you: but you know what a love thereis between Miss Howe and Miss Harlowe.--I doubt, Sir, you have nottreated Miss Harlowe as so fine a young lady deserved to be treated. Andif love for her friend has made Miss Howe take freedoms, as you callthem, a mind not ungenerous, on such an occasion, will rather be sorryfor having given the cause, than--
I know your consequence, Sir!--but I'd rather have this reproof from alady than from a gentleman. I have a great desire to wait upon MissHowe. I am persuaded we should soon come to a good understanding.Generous minds are always of ki
n. I know we should agree in every thing.Pray, Mr. Hickman, be so kind as to introduce me to Miss Howe.
Sir--I can signify your desire, if you please, to Miss Howe.
Do so. Be pleased to read on, Mr. Hickman.
He did very formally, as if I remembered not what I had written; and whenhe came to the passage about the halter, the parson, and the hangman,reading it, Why, Sir, says he, does not this look like a jest?--Miss Howethinks it does. It is not in the lady's power, you know, Sir, to doomyou to the gallows.
Then, if it were, Mr. Hickman, you think she would?
You say here to Miss Howe, proceeded he, that Miss Harlowe is the mostinjured of her sex. I know, from Miss Howe, that she highly resents theinjuries you own: insomuch that Miss Howe doubts that she shall neverprevail upon her to overlook them: and as your family are all desirousyou should repair her wrongs, and likewise desire Miss Howe'sinterposition with her friend; Miss Howe fears, from this part of yourletter, that you are too much in jest; and that your offer to do herjustice is rather in compliment to your friends' entreaties, thanproceeding form your own inclinations: and she desires to know your truesentiments on this occasion, before she interposes further.
Do you think, Mr. Hickman, that, if I am capable of deceiving my ownrelations, I have so much obligation to Miss Howe, who has always treatedme with great freedom, as to acknowledge to her what I don't to them?
Sir, I beg pardon: but Miss Howe thinks that, as you have written to her,she may ask you, by me, for an explanation of what you have written.
You see, Mr. Hickman, something of me.--Do you think I am in jest, or inearnest?
I see, Sir, you are a gay gentleman, of fine spirits, and all that. AllI beg in Miss Howe's name is, to know if you really and bona fide joinwith your friends in desiring her to use her interest to reconcile you toMiss Harlowe?
I should be extremely glad to be reconciled to Miss Harlowe; and shouldowe great obligations to Miss Howe, if she could bring about so happy anevent.
Well, Sir, and you have no objections to marriage, I presume, as thecondition of that reconciliation?
I never liked matrimony in my life. I must be plain with you, Mr.Hickman.
I am sorry for it: I think it a very happy state.
I hope you will find it so, Mr. Hickman.
I doubt not but I shall, Sir. And I dare say, so would you, if you wereto have Miss Harlowe.
If I could be happy in it with any body, it would be with Miss Harlowe.
I am surprised, Sir!----Then, after all, you don't think of marrying MissHarlowe!----After the hard usage----
What hard usage, Mr. Hickman? I don't doubt but a lady of her nicenesshas represented what would appear trifles to any other, in a very stronglight.
If what I have had hinted to me, Sir--excuse me--had been offered to thelady, she has more than trifles to complain of.
Let me know what you have heard, Mr. Hickman? I will very truly answerto the accusations.
Sir, you know best what you have done: you own the lady is the mostinjured, as well as the most deserving of her sex.
I do, Sir; and yet I would be glad to know what you have heard: for onthat, perhaps, depends my answer to the questions Miss Howe puts to me byyou.
Why then, Sir, since you ask it, you cannot be displeased if I answeryou:--in the first place, Sir, you will acknowledge, I suppose, that youpromised Miss Harlowe marriage, and all that?
Well, Sir, and I suppose what you have to charge me with is, that I wasdesirous to have all that, without marriage?
Cot-so, Sir, I know you are deemed to be a man of wit: but may I not askif these things sit not too light upon you?
When a thing is done, and cannot be helped, 'tis right to make the bestof it. I wish the lady would think so too.
I think, Sir, ladies should not be deceived. I think a promise to a ladyshould be as binding as to any other person, at the least.
I believe you think so, Mr. Hickman: and I believe you are a very honest,good sort of a man.
I would always keep my word, Sir, whether to man or woman.
You say well. And far be it from me to persuade you to do otherwise.But what have you farther heard?
(Thou wilt think, Jack, I must be very desirous to know in what light myelected spouse had represented things to Miss Howe; and how far Miss Howehad communicated them to Mr. Hickman.)
Sir, this is no part of my present business.
But, Mr. Hickman, 'tis part of mine. I hope you would not expect that Ishould answer your questions, at the same time that you refused to answermine. What, pray, have you farther heard?
Why then, Sir, if I must say, I am told, that Miss Harlowe was carried toa very bad house.
Why, indeed, the people did not prove so good as they should be.--Whatfarther have you heard?
I have heard, Sir, that the lady had strange advantages taken of her,very unfair ones: but what I cannot say.
And cannot you say? Cannot you guess?--Then I'll tell you, Sir. Perhapssome liberty was taken with her when she was asleep. Do you think nolady ever was taken at such an advantage?--You know, Mr. Hickman, thatladies are very shy of trusting themselves with the modestest of our sex,when they are disposed to sleep; and why so, if they did not expect thatadvantages would be taken of them at such times?
But, Sir, had not the lady something given her to make her sleep?
Ay, Mr. Hickman, that's the question: I want to know if the lady says shehad?
I have not seen all she has written; but, by what I have heard, it is avery black affair--Excuse me, Sir.
I do excuse you, Mr. Hickman: but, supposing it were so, do you think alady was never imposed upon by wine, or so?--Do you not think the mostcautious woman in the world might not be cheated by a stronger liquor fora smaller, when she was thirsty, after a fatigue in this very warmweather? And do you think, if she was thus thrown into a profound sleep,that she is the only lady that was ever taken at such an advantage?
Even as you make it, Mr. Lovelace, this matter is not a light one. But Ifear it is a great deal heavier than as you put it.
What reasons have you to fear this, Sir? What has the lady said? Praylet me know. I have reason to be so earnest.
Why, Sir, Miss Howe herself knows not the whole. The lady promises togive her all the particulars at a proper time, if she lives; but has saidenough to make it out to be a very bad affair.
I am glad Miss Harlowe has not yet given all the particulars. And, sinceshe has not, you may tell Miss Howe from me, that neither she, nor anywoman in the world can be more virtuous than Miss Harlowe is to thishour, as to her own mind. Tell her, that I hope she never will know theparticulars; but that she has been unworthily used: tell her, that thoughI know not what she has said, yet I have such an opinion of her veracity,that I would blindly subscribe to the truth of every tittle of it, thoughit make me ever so black. Tell her, that I have but three things toblame her for; one, that she won't give me an opportunity of repairingher wrongs: the second, that she is so ready to acquaint every body withwhat she has suffered, that it will put it out of my power to redressthose wrongs, with any tolerable reputation to either of us. Will this,Mr. Hickman, answer any part of the intention of this visit?
Why, Sir, this is talking like a man of honour, I own. But you say thereis a third thing you blame the lady for: May I ask what that is?
I don't know, Sir, whether I ought to tell it you, or not. Perhaps youwon't believe it, if I do. But though the lady will tell the truth, andnothing but the truth, yet, perhaps, she will not tell the whole truth.
Pray, Sir--But it mayn't be proper--Yet you give me great curiosity.Sure there is no misconduct in the lady. I hope there is not. I amsure, if Miss Howe did not believe her to be faultless in everyparticular, she would not interest herself so much in her favour as shedoes, dearly as she loves her.
I love Miss Harlowe too well, Mr. Hickman, to wish to lessen her in MissHowe's opinion; especially as she is abandoned of every other
friend.But, perhaps, it would hardly be credited, if I should tell you.
I should be very sorry, Sir, and so would Miss Howe, if this poor lady'sconduct had laid her under obligation to you for this reserve.--You haveso much the appearance of a gentleman, as well as are so muchdistinguished in your family and fortunes, that I hope you are incapableof loading such a young lady as this, in order to lighten yourself----Excuse me, Sir.
I do, I do, Mr. Hickman. You say you came not with any intention toaffront me. I take freedom, and I give it. I should be very loth, Irepeat, to say any thing that may weaken Miss Harlowe in the good opinionof the only friend she thinks she has left.
It may not be proper, said he, for me to know your third article againstthis unhappy lady: but I never heard of any body, out of her ownimplacable family, that had the least doubt of her honour. Mrs. Howe,indeed, once said, after a conference with one of her uncles, that shefeared all was not right on her side.--But else, I never heard--
Oons, Sir, in a fierce tone, and with an erect mien, stopping short uponhim, which made him start back--'tis next to blasphemy to question thislady's honour. She is more pure than a vestal; for vestals have oftenbeen warmed by their own fires. No age, from the first to the present,ever produced, nor will the future, to the end of the world, I dare aver,ever produce, a young blooming lady, tried as she has been tried, who hasstood all trials, as she has done.--Let me tell you, Sir, that you neversaw, never knew, never heard of, such another woman as Miss Harlowe.
Sir, Sir, I beg your pardon. Far be it from me to question the lady.You have not heard me say a word that could be so construed. I have theutmost honour for her. Miss Howe loves her, as she loves her own soul;and that she would not do, if she were not sure she were as virtuous asherself.
As herself, Sir!--I have a high opinion of Miss Howe, Sir--but, I daresay--
What, Sir, dare you say of Miss Howe!--I hope, Sir, you will not presumeto say any thing to the disparagement of Miss Howe.
Presume, Mr. Hickman!--that is presuming language, let me tell you, Mr.Hickman!
The occasion for it, Mr. Lovelace, if designed, is presuming, if youplease.--I am not a man ready to take offence, Sir--especially where I amemployed as a mediator. But no man breathing shall say disparagingthings of Miss Howe, in my hearing, without observation.
Well said, Mr. Hickman. I dislike not your spirit, on such a supposedoccasion. But what I was going to say is this. That there is not, in myopinion, a woman in the world, who ought to compare herself with MissClarissa Harlowe till she has stood her trials, and has behaved underthem, and after them, as she has done. You see, Sir, I speak againstmyself. You see I do. For, libertine as I am thought to be, I neverwill attempt to bring down the measures of right and wrong to thestandard of my actions.
Why, Sir, this is very right. It is very noble, I will say. But 'tispity, that the man who can pronounce so fine a sentence, will not squarehis actions accordingly.
That, Mr. Hickman, is another point. We all err in some things. I wishnot that Miss Howe should have Miss Harlowe's trials: and I rejoice thatshe is in no danger of any such from so good a man.
(Poor Hickman!--he looked as if he knew not whether I meant a complimentor a reflection!)
But, proceeded I, since I find that I have excited your curiosity, thatyou may not go away with a doubt that may be injurious to the mostadmirable of women, I am enclined to hint to you what I have in the thirdplace to blame her for.
Sir, as you please--it may not be proper--
It cannot be very improper, Mr. Hickman--So let me ask you, What wouldMiss Howe think, if her friend is the more determined against me, becauseshe thinks (to revenge to me, I verily believe that!) of encouraginganother lover?
How, Sir!--Sure this cannot be the case!--I can tell you, Sir, if MissHowe thought this, she would not approve of it at all: for, little as youthink Miss Howe likes you, Sir, and little as she approves of youractions by her friend, I know she is of opinion that she ought to havenobody living but you: and should continue single all her life, if she benot your's.
Revenge and obstinacy, Mr. Hickman, will make women, the best of them, dovery unaccountable things. Rather than not put out both eyes of a manthey are offended with, they will give up one of their own.
I don't know what to say to this, Sir: but sure she cannot encourage anyother person's address!--So soon too--Why, Sir, she is, as we are told,so ill, and so weak----
Not in resentment weak, I'll assure you. I am well acquainted with allher movements--and I tell you, believe it, or not, that she refuses me inview of another lover.
Can it be?
'Tis true, by my soul!--Has she not hinted this to Miss Howe, do youthink?
No, indeed, Sir. If she had I should not have troubled you at this timefrom Miss Howe.
Well then, you see I am right: that though she cannot be guilty of afalsehood, yet she has not told her friend the whole truth.
What shall a man say to these things!--(looking most stupidly perplexed.)
Say! Say! Mr. Hickman!--Who can account for the workings and ways of apassionate and offended woman? Endless would be the histories I couldgive you, within my own knowledge, of the dreadful effects of woman'spassionate resentments, and what that sex will do when disappointed.
There was Miss DORRINGTON, [perhaps you know her not,] who run away withher father's groom, because he would not let her have a half-pay officer,with whom (her passions all up) she fell in love at first sight, as heaccidentally passed under her window.
There was MISS SAVAGE; she married her mother's coachman, because hermother refused her a journey to Wales; in apprehension that miss intendedto league herself with a remote cousin of unequal fortunes, of whom shewas not a little fond when he was a visiting-guest at their house for aweek.
There was the young widow SANDERSON, who believing herself slighted by ayounger brother of a noble family, (Sarah Stout like,) took it into herhead to drown herself.
Miss SALLY ANDERSON, [You have heard of her, no doubt?] being checked byher uncle for encouraging an address beneath her, in spite, threw herselfinto the arms of an ugly dog, a shoe-maker's apprentice, running awaywith him in a pair of shoes he had just fitted to her feet, though shenever saw the fellow before, and hated him ever after: and, at last, tooklaudanum to make her forget for ever her own folly.
But can there be a stronger instance in point than what the unaccountableresentments of such a lady as Miss Clarissa Harlowe afford us? Who atthis instant, ill as she is, not only encourages, but, in a manner, makescourt to one of the most odious dogs that ever was seen? I think MissHowe should not be told this--and yet she ought too, in order to dissuadeher from such a preposterous rashness.
O fie! O strange! Miss Howe knows nothing of this! To be sure shewon't look upon her, if this be true!
'Tis true, very true, Mr. Hickman! True as I am here to tell you so!--And he is an ugly fellow too; uglier to look at than me.
Than you, Sir! Why, to be sure, you are one of the handsomest men inEngland.
Well, but the wretch she so spitefully prefers to me is a mis-shapen,meagre varlet; more like a skeleton than a man! Then he dresses--younever saw a devil so bedizened! Hardly a coat to his back, nor a shoeto his foot. A bald-pated villain, yet grudges to buy a peruke to hisbaldness: for he is as covetous as hell, never satisfied, yet plaguyrich.
Why, Sir, there is some joke in this, surely. A man of common partsknows not how to take such gentleman as you. But, Sir, if there be anytruth in the story, what is he? Some Jew or miserly citizen, I suppose,that may have presumed on the lady's distressful circumstances; and yourlively wit points him out as it pleases.
Why, the rascal has estates in every county in England, and out ofEngland too.
Some East India governor, I suppose, if there be any thing in it. Thelady once had thoughts of going abroad. But I fancy all this time youare in jest, Sir. If not, we must surely have heard of him----
Heard of him!
Aye, Sir, we have all heard of him--But none of us care tobe intimate with him--except this lady--and that, as I told you, in spiteof me--his name, in short, is DEATH!--DEATH! Sir, stamping, and speakingloud, and full in his ears; which made him jump half a yard high.
(Thou never beheldest any man so disconcerted. He looked as if thefrightful skeleton was before him, and he had not his accounts ready.When a little recovered, he fribbled with his waistcoat buttons, as if hehad been telling his beads.)
This, Sir, proceeded I, is her wooer!--Nay, she is so forward a girl,that she wooes him: but I hope it never will be a match.
He had before behaved, and now looked with more spirit than I expectedfrom him.
I came, Sir, said he, as a mediator of differences.--It behoves me tokeep my temper. But, Sir, and turned short upon me, as much as I lovepeace, and to promote it, I will not be ill-used.
As I had played so much upon him, it would have been wrong to take him athis more than half-menace: yet I think I owe him a grudge, for hispresuming to address Miss Howe.
You mean no defiance, I presume, Mr. Hickman, any more than I do offence.On that presumption, I ask your excuse. But this is my way. I mean noharm. I cannot let sorrow touch my heart. I cannot be grave six minutestogether, for the blood of me. I am a descendant of old ChancellorMoore, I believe; and should not forbear to cut a joke, were I upon thescaffold. But you may gather, from what I have said, that I prefer MissHarlowe, and that upon the justest grounds, to all the women in theworld: and I wonder that there should be any difficulty to believe, fromwhat I have signed, and from what I have promised to my relations, andenabled them to promise for me, that I should be glad to marry thatexcellent creature upon her own terms. I acknowledge to you, Mr.Hickman, that I have basely injured her. If she will honour me with herhand, I declare that is my intention to make her the best of husbands.--But, nevertheless, I must say that if she goes on appealing her case, andexposing us both, as she does, it is impossible to think the knot can beknit with reputation to either. And although, Mr. Hickman, I havedelivered my apprehensions under so ludicrous a figure, I am afraid thatshe will ruin her constitution: and, by seeking Death when she may shunhim, will not be able to avoid him when she would be glad to do so.
This cool and honest speech let down his stiffened muscles intocomplacence. He was my very obedient and faithful humble servant severaltimes over, as I waited on him to his chariot: and I was his almost asoften.
And so exit Hickman.
Clarissa Harlowe; or the history of a young lady — Volume 7 Page 28
