LETTER LIII
MR. LOVELACE, TO JOHN BELFORD, ESQ.THURSDAY, MAY 25.
Thou seest, Belford, how we now drive before the wind.--The dear creaturenow comes almost at the first word, whenever I desire the honour of hercompany. I told her last night, that apprehending delay from Pritchard'sslowness, I was determined to leave it to my Lord to make his complimentsin his own way; and had actually that afternoon put my writings into thehands of a very eminent lawyer, Counsellor Willians, with directions forhim to draw up settlements from my own estate, and conformably to thoseof my mother! which I put into his hands at the same time. It had been,I assured her, no small part of my concern, that her frequentdispleasure, and our mutual misapprehensions, had hindered me fromadvising with her before on this subject. Indeed, indeed, my dearestlife, said I, you have hitherto afforded me but a very thorny courtship.
She was silent. Kindly silent. For well know I, that she could haverecriminated upon me with a vengeance. But I was willing to see if shewere not loth to disoblige me now. I comforted myself, I said, with thehopes that all my difficulties were now over; and that every pastdisobligation would be buried in oblivion.
Now, Belford, I have actually deposited these writings with CounsellorWilliams; and I expect the draughts in a week at farthest. So shall bedoubly armed. For if I attempt, and fail, these shall be ready to throwin, to make her have patience with me till I can try again.
I have more contrivances still in embryo. I could tell thee of anhundred, and yet hold another hundred in petto, to pop in as I go along,to excite thy surprize, and to keep up thy attention. Nor rave thou atme; but, if thou art my friend, think of Miss Howe's letters, and of hersmuggling scheme. All owing to my fair captive's informationsincitements. Am I not a villain, a fool, a Beelzebub, with them already?--Yet no harm done by me, nor so much as attempted?
Every thing of this nature, the dear creature answered, (with a downcasteye, and a blushing cheek,) she left to me.
I proposed my Lord's chapel for the celebration, where we might have thepresence of Lady Betty, Lady Sarah, and my two cousins Montague.
She seemed not to favour a public celebration! and waved this subject forthe present. I doubted not but she would be as willing as I to decline apublic wedding; so I pressed not this matter farther just then.
But patterns I actually produced; and a jeweller was to bring as this dayseveral sets of jewels for her choice. But the patterns she would notopen. She sighed at the mention of them: the second patterns, she said,that had been offered to her:* and very peremptorily forbid thejeweller's coming; as well as declined my offer of causing my mother's tobe new-set, at least for the present.
* See Vol. I. Letter XLI.
I do assure thee, Belford, I was in earnest in all this. My whole estateis nothing to me, put in competition with her hoped-for favour.
She then told me, that she had put into writing her opinion of my generalproposals; and there had expressed her mind as to clothes and jewels: buton my strange behaviour to her (for no cause that she knew of) on Sundaynight, she had torn the paper in two.
I earnestly pressed her to let me be favoured with a sight of this paper,torn as it was. And, after some hesitation, she withdrew, and sent it tome by Dorcas.
I perused it again. It was in a manner new to me, though I had read itso lately: and, by my soul, I could hardly stand it. An hundredadmirable creatures I called her to myself. But I charge thee, write nota word to me in her favour, if thou meanest her well; for, if I spareher, it must be all ex mero motu.
You may easily suppose, when I was re-admitted to her presence, that Iran over in her praises, and in vows of gratitude, and everlasting love.But here's the devil; she still receives all I say with reserve; or ifit be not with reserve, she receives it so much as her due, that she isnot at all raised by it. Some women are undone by praise, by flattery.I myself, a man, am proud of praise. Perhaps thou wilt say, that thoseare most proud of it who least deserve it; as those are of riches andgrandeur who are not born to either. I own, that to be superior to thesefoibles, it requires a soul. Have I not then a soul?--Surely, I have.--Let me then be considered as an exception to the rule.
Now have I foundation to go upon in my terms. My Lord, in the exuberanceof his generosity, mentions a thousand pounds a year penny-rents. This Iknow, that were I to marry this lady, he would rather settle upon her allhe has a mind to settle, than upon me. He has even threatened, that ifI prove not a good husband to her, he will leave all he can at his deathfrom me to her. Yet considers not that a woman so perfect can never bedispleased with her husband but to his disgrace: For who will blame her?--Another reason why a LOVELACE should not wish to marry a CLARISSA.
But what a pretty fellow of an uncle is this foolish peer, to think ofmaking a wife independent of her emperor, and a rebel of course; yetsmarted himself for an error of this kind!
My beloved, in her torn paper, mentions but two hundred pounds a year,for her separate use. I insisted upon her naming a larger sum. She saidit might be three; and I, for fear she should suspect very large offers,named only five; but added the entire disposal of all arrears in herfather's hands for the benefit of Mrs. Norton, or whom she pleased.
She said, that the good woman would be uneasy if any thing more than acompetency were done for her. She was more for suiting all herdispositions of this kind, she said, to the usual way of life of theperson. To go beyond it, was but to put the benefited upon projects,or to make them awkward in a new state; when they might shine in that towhich they were accustomed. And to put it into so good a mother's powerto give her son a beginning in his business at a proper time; yet toleave her something for herself, to set her above want, or above thenecessity of taking back from her child what she had been enabled tobestow upon him; would be the height of such a worthy parent's ambition.
Here's prudence! Here's judgment in so young a creature! How do I hatethe Harlowes for producing such an angel!--O why, why, did she refuse mysincere address to tie the knot before we came to this house!
But yet, what mortifies my pride is, that this exalted creature, if Iwere to marry her, would not be governed in her behaviour to me by love,but by generosity merely, or by blind duty; and had rather live single,than be mine.
I cannot bear this. I would have the woman whom I honour with my name,if ever I confer this honour upon any, forego even her superior dutiesfor me. I would have her look after me when I go out as far as she cansee me, as my Rosebud after her Johnny; and meet me at my return withrapture. I would be the subject of her dreams, as well as of her wakingthoughts. I would have her think every moment lost that is not passedwith me: sing to me, read to me, play to me when I pleased: no joy sogreat as in obeying me. When I should be inclined to love, overwhelm mewith it; when to be serious or solitary, if apprehensive of intrusion,retiring at a nod; approaching me only if I smiled encouragement: stealinto my presence with silence; out of it, if not noticed, on tiptoe. Bea lady easy to all my pleasures, and valuing those most who mostcontributed to them; only sighing in private, that it was not herself atthe time. Thus of old did the contending wives of the honest patriarchs;each recommending her handmaid to her lord, as she thought it wouldoblige him, and looking upon the genial product as her own.
The gentle Waller says, women are born to be controuled. Gentle as hewas, he knew that. A tyrant husband makes a dutiful wife. And why dothe sex love rakes, but because they know how to direct their uncertainwills, and manage them?
***
Another agreeable conversation. The day of days the subject. As tofixing a particular one, that need not be done, my charmer says, till thesettlements are completed. As to marrying at my Lord's chapel, theLadies of my family present, that would be making a public affair of it;and the dear creature observed, with regret, that it seemed to be myLord's intention to make it so.
It could not be imagined, I said, but that his Lordship's setting out ina litter, and coming to town, as well as his
taste for glare, and the joyhe would take to see me married at last, and to her dear self, would giveit as much the air of a public marriage as if the ceremony were performedat his own chapel, all the Ladies present.
I cannot, said she, endure the thoughts of a public day. It will carrywith it an air of insult upon my whole family. And for my part, if myLord will not take it amiss, [and perhaps he will not, as the motion camenot from himself, but from you, Mr. Lovelace,] I will very willinglydispense with his Lordship's presence; the rather, as dress andappearance will then be unnecessary; for I cannot bear to think ofdecking my person while my parents are in tears.
How excellent this! Yet do not her parents richly deserve to be intears?
See, Belford, with so charming a niceness, we might have been a long timeago upon the verge of the state, and yet found a great deal to do beforewe entered into it.
All obedience, all resignation--no will but her's. I withdrew, and wrotedirectly to my Lord; and she not disapproving of it, I sent it away. Thepurport as follows; for I took no copy.
'That I was much obliged to his Lordship for his intended goodness to meon an occasion the most solemn of my life. That the admirable Lady, whomhe so justly praised, thought his Lordship's proposals in her favour toohigh. That she chose not to make a public appearance, if, withoutdisobliging my friends, she could avoid it, till a reconciliation withher own could be effected. That although she expressed a grateful senseof his Lordship's consent to give her to me with his own hand; yet,presuming that the motive to this kind intention was rather to do herhonour, than it otherwise would have been his own choice, (especially astravelling would be at this time so inconvenient to him,) she thought itadvisable to save his Lordship trouble on this occasion; and hoped hewould take as meant her declining the favour.
'That The Lawn will be most acceptable to us both to retire to; and therather, as it is so to his Lordship.
'But, if he pleases, the jointure may be made from my own estate; leavingto his Lordship's goodness the alternative.'
I conclude with telling him, 'that I had offered to present the Lady hisLordship's bill; but on her declining to accept of it (having myself nopresent occasion for it) I return it enclosed, with my thanks, &c.'
And is not this going a plaguy length? What a figure should I make inrakish annals, if at last I should be caught in my own gin?
The sex may say what they will, but a poor innocent fellow had need totake great care of himself, when he dances upon the edge of thematrimonial precipice. Many a faint-hearted man, when he began to jest,or only designed to ape gallantry, has been forced into earnest, by beingover-prompt, and taken at his word, not knowing how to own that he meantless than the lady supposed he meant. I am the better enabled to judgethat this must have been the case of many a sneaking varlet; because I,who know the female world as well as any man in it of my standing, am sofrequently in doubt of myself, and know not what to make of the matter.
Then these little sly rogues, how they lie couchant, ready to spring uponus harmless fellows the moment we are in their reach!--When the ice isonce broken for them, how swiftly can they make to port!--Mean time, thesubject they can least speak to, they most think of. Nor can you talk ofthe ceremony, before they have laid out in their minds how it is all tobe. Little saucy-faced designers! how first they draw themselves in,then us!
But be all these things as they will, Lord M. never in his life receivedso handsome a letter as this from his nephew
LOVELACE.
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[The Lady, after having given to Miss Howe on the particulars contained in Mr. Lovelace's last letter, thus expresses herself:]
A principal consolation arising from these favourable appearances, is,that I, who have now but one only friend, shall most probably, and if itbe not my own fault, have as many new ones as there are persons in Mr.Lovelace's family; and this whether Mr. Lovelace treat me kindly or not.And who knows, but that, by degrees, those new friends, by their rank andmerit, may have weight enough to get me restored to the favour of myrelations? till which can be effected, I shall not be tolerably easy.Happy I never expect to be. Mr. Lovelace's mind and mine are vastlydifferent; different in essentials.
But as matters are at present circumstanced, I pray you, my dear friend,to keep to yourself every thing that might bring discredit to him, ifrevealed.--Better any body expose a man than a wife, if I am to be his;and what is said by you will be thought to come from me.
It shall be my constant prayer, that all the felicities which this worldcan afford may be your's: and that the Almighty will never suffer you noryour's, to the remotest posterity, to want such a friend as my Anna Howehas been to
HerCLARISSA HARLOWE.
Clarissa Harlowe; or the history of a young lady — Volume 4 Page 55
