LETTER XXXIII
MISS CLARISSA HARLOWE, TO MISS HOWEWEDNESDAY MORNING, MAY 17.
Mr. Lovelace would fain have engaged me last night. But as I was notprepared to enter upon the subject of his proposals, (intending toconsider them maturely,) and was not highly pleased with his conclusion,I desired to be excused seeing him till morning; and the rather, as thereis hardly any getting from him in tolerable time overnight.
Accordingly, about seven o'clock we met in the dining-room.
I find he was full of expectation that I should meet him with a veryfavourable, who knows but with a thankful, aspect? and I immediatelyfound by his sullen countenance, that he was under no smalldisappointment that I did not.
My dearest love, are you well? Why look you so solemn upon me? Willyour indifference never be over? If I have proposed terms in any respectshort of your expectation--
I told him, that he had very considerately mentioned my shewing hisproposals to Miss Howe; and as I should have a speedy opportunity to sendthem to her by Collins, I desired to suspend any talk upon that subjecttill I had her opinion upon them.
Good God!--If there was but the least loop-hole! the least room fordelay!--But he was writing a letter to Lord M. to give him an account ofhis situation with me, and could not finish it so satisfactorily, eitherto my Lord or to himself, as if I would condescend to say, whether theterms he had proposed were acceptable, or not.
Thus far, I told him, I could say, that my principal point was peace andreconciliation with my relations. As to other matters, the gentleness ofhis own spirit would put him upon doing more for me than I should ask, orexpect. Wherefore, if all he had to write about was to know what Lord M.would do on my account, he might spare himself the trouble, for that myutmost wishes, as to myself, were much more easily gratified than heperhaps imagined.
He asked me then, if I would so far permit him to touch upon the happyday, as to request the presence of Lord M. on the occasion, and to be myfather?
Father had a sweet and venerable sound with it, I said. I should be gladto have a father who would own me!
Was not this plain speaking, think you, my dear? Yet it rather, I mustown, appears so to me on reflection, than was designed freely at thetime. For I then, with a sigh from the bottom of my heart, thought of myown father; bitterly regretting, that I am an outcast from him and frommy mother.
Mr. Lovelace I thought seemed a little affected at the manner of myspeaking, and perhaps at the sad reflection.
I am but a very young creature, Mr. Lovelace, said I, [and wiped my eyesas I turned away my face,] although you have kindly, and in love to me,introduced so much sorry to me already: so you must not wonder, that theword father strikes so sensibly upon the heart of a child ever dutifultill she knew you, and whose tender years still require the paternalwing.
He turned towards the window--[rejoice with me, my dear, since I seem tobe devoted to him, that the man is not absolutely impenetrable!] Hisemotion was visible; yet he endeavoured to suppress it. Approaching meagain; again he was obliged to turn from me; angelic something, he said:but then, obtaining a heart more suitable to his wish, he once moreapproached me.--For his own part, he said, as Lord M. was so subject togout, he was afraid, that the compliment he had just proposed to makehim, might, if made, occasion a larger suspension than he could bear tothink of; and if it did, it would vex him to the heart that he had madeit.
I could not say a single word to this, you know, my dear. But you willguess at my thoughts of what he said--so much passionate love, lip-deep!so prudent, and so dutifully patient at heart to a relation he had tillnow so undutifully despised!--Why, why, am I thrown upon such a man,thought I!
He hesitated, as if contending with himself; and after taking a turn ortwo about the room, He was at a great loss what to determine upon, hesaid, because he had not the honour of knowing when he was to be made thehappiest of men--Would to God it might that very instant be resolvedupon!
He stopped a moment or two, staring in his usual confident way, in mydowncast face, [Did I not, O my beloved friend, think you, want a fatheror a mother just then?] But if he could not, so soon as he wished,procure my consent to a day; in that case, he thought the complimentmight as well be made to Lord M. as not, [See, my dear!] since thesettlements might be drawn and engrossed in the intervenient time, whichwould pacify his impatience, as no time would be lost.
You will suppose how I was affected by this speech, by repeating thesubstance of what he said upon it; as follows.
But, by his soul, he knew not, so much was I upon the reserve, and somuch latent meaning did my eye import, whether, when he most hoped toplease me, he was not farthest from doing so. Would I vouchsafe to say,whether I approved of his compliment to Lord M. or not?
To leave it to me, to choose whether the speedy day he ought to haveurged for with earnestness, should be accelerated or suspended!--MissHowe, thought I, at that moment, says, I must not run away from this man!
To be sure, Mr. Lovelace, if this matter be ever to be, it must beagreeable to me to have the full approbation of one side, since I cannothave that of the other.
If this matter be ever to be! Good God! what words are these at thistime of day! and full approbation of one side! Why that wordapprobation? when the greatest pride of all my family is, that of havingthe honour of so dear a creature for their relation? Would to heaven, mydearest life, added he, that, without complimenting any body, to-morrowmight be the happiest day of my life!--What say you, my angel? with atrembling impatience, that seemed not affected--What say you forto-morrow?
It was likely, my dear, I could say much to it, or name another day, hadI been disposed to the latter, with such an hinted delay from him.
I was silent.
Next day, Madam, if not to-morrow?--
Had he given me time to answer, it could not have been in theaffirmative, you must think--but, in the same breath, he went on--Or theday after that?--and taking both my hands in his, he stared me into ahalf-confusion--Would you have had patience with him, my dear?
No, no, said I, as calmly as possible, you cannot think that I shouldimagine there can be reason for such a hurry. It will be most agreeable,to be sure, for my Lord to be present.
I am all obedience and resignation, returned the wretch, with a self-pluming air, as if he had acquiesced to a proposal made by me, and hadcomplimented me with a great piece of self denial.
Is it not plain, my dear, that he designs to vex and tease me? Proud,yet mean and foolish man, if so!--But you say all punctilio is at an endwith me. Why, why, will he take pains to make a heart wrap itself up inreserve, that wishes only, and that for his sake as well as my own, toobserve due decorum?
Modesty, I think, required of me, that it should pass as he had put it:Did it not?--I think it did. Would to heaven--but what signifieswishing?
But when he would have rewarded himself, as he had heretofore called it,for this self-supposed concession, with a kiss, I repulsed him with ajust and very sincere disdain.
He seemed both vexed and surprised, as one who had made the mostagreeable proposals and concessions, and thought them ungratefullyreturned. He plainly said, that he thought our situation would entitlehim to such an innocent freedom: and he was both amazed and grieved to bethus scornfully repulsed.
No reply could be made be me on such a subject.
I abruptly broke from him. I recollect, as I passed by one of the pier-glasses, that I saw in it his clenched hand offered in wrath to hisforehead: the words, Indifference, by his soul, next to hatred, I heardhim speak; and something of ice he mentioned: I heard not what.
Whether he intends to write to my Lord, or Miss Montague, I cannot tell.But, as all delicacy ought to be over with me now, perhaps I am to blameto expect it from a man who may not know what it is. If he does not, andyet thinks himself very polite, and intends not to be otherwise, I amrather to be pitied, than he to be censured.
And after all, since I must take him as I find hi
m, I must: that is tosay, as a man so vain and so accustomed to be admired, that, not beingconscious of internal defect, he has taken no pains to polish more thanhis outside: and as his proposals are higher than my expectations; andas, in his own opinion, he has a great deal to bear from me, I will (nonew offence preventing) sit down to answer them; and, if possible, interms as unobjectionable to him, as his are to me.
But after all, see you not, my dear, more and more, the mismatch thatthere is in our minds?
However, I am willing to compound for my fault, by giving up, (if thatmay be all my punishment) the expectation of what is deemed happiness inthis life, with such a husband as I fear he will make. In short, I willcontent myself to be a suffering person through the state to the end ofmy life.--A long one it cannot be!
This may qualify him (as it may prove) from stings of conscience frommisbehaviour to a first wife, to be a more tolerable one to a second,though not perhaps a better deserving one: while my story, to all whoshall know it, will afford these instructions: That the eye is a traitor,and ought ever to be mistrusted: that form is deceitful: in other words;that a fine person is seldom paired by a fine mind: and that soundprinciple and a good heart, are the only bases on which the hopes of ahappy future, either with respect to this world, or the other, can bebuilt.
And so much at present for Mr. Lovelace's proposals: Of which I desireyour opinion.*
* We cannot forbear observing in this place, that the Lady has beenparticularly censured, even by some of her own sex, as over-nice in herpart of the above conversations: but surely this must be owing to wantof attention to the circumstances she was in, and to her character, aswell as to the character of the man she had to deal with: for, althoughshe could not be supposed to know so much of his designs as the readerdoes by means of his letters to Belford, yet she was but too wellconvinced of his faulty morals, and of the necessity there was, from thewhole of his behaviour to her, to keep such an encroacher, as shefrequently calls him, at a distance. In Letter XXXIII. of Vol. III. thereader will see, that upon some favourable appearances she blames herselffor her readiness to suspect him. But his character, his principles,said she, are so faulty!--He is so light, so vain, so various.----Then,my dear, I have no guardian to depend upon. In Letter IX. of Vol. III.Must I not with such a man, says she, be wanting to myself, were I notjealous and vigilant?
By this time the reader will see, that she had still greater reason forher jealousy and vigilance. And Lovelace will tell the sex, as he doesin Letter XI. of Vol. V., that the woman who resents not initiatoryfreedoms, must be lost. Love is an encroacher, says he: loves never goesbackward. Nothing but the highest act of love can satisfy an indulgedlove.
But the reader perhaps is too apt to form a judgment of Clarissa'sconduct in critical cases by Lovelace's complaints of her coldness; notconsidering his views upon her; and that she is proposed as an example;and therefore in her trials and distresses must not be allowed todispense with those rules which perhaps some others of the sex, in herdelicate situation, would not have thought themselves so strictly boundto observe; although, if she had not observed them, a Lovelace would havecarried all his points.
Clarissa Harlowe; or the history of a young lady — Volume 4 Page 34
