Clarissa Harlowe; or the history of a young lady Volume II Part 21

He may be mean enough perhaps, if ever I should put it into his power, to avenge himself for the trouble he has had with me.--But that now, I dare say, I never shall.

I see what sort of a man the encroacher is. And I hope we are equally sick of one another.--My heart is vexedly easy, if I may so describe it.--Vexedly--because of the apprehended interview with Solmes, and the consequences it may be attended with: or else I should be quite easy; for why? I have not deserved the usage I receive: and could I be rid of Solmes, as I presume I am of Lovelace, their influence over my father, mother, and uncles, against me, could not hold.

The five guineas tied up in one corner of a handkerchief under the linen, I beg you will let pa.s.s as an acknowledgement for the trouble I give your trusty servant. You must not chide me for this. You know I cannot be easy unless I have my way in these little matters.

I was going to put up what little money I have, and some of my ornaments; but they are portable, and I cannot forget them. Besides, should they (suspecting me) desire to see any of the jewels, and were I not able to produce them, it would amount to a demonstration of an intention which would have a guilty appearance to them.

FRIDAY, ONE O'CLOCK, IN THE WOOD-HOUSE.

No letter yet from this man! I have luckily deposited my parcel, and have your letter of last night. If Robert take this without the parcel, pray let him return immediately for it. But he cannot miss it, I think: and must conclude that it is put there for him to take away. You may believe, from the contents of yours, that I shall immediately write again.--

CLARISSA HARLOWE.

LETTER XXVI

MISS HOWE, TO MISS CLARISSA HARLOWE THURSDAY NIGHT, MARCH 30.

The fruits of my inquiry after your abominable wretch's behaviour and baseness at the paltry alehouse, which he calls an inn, prepare to hear.

Wrens and sparrows are not too ign.o.ble a quarry for this villainous gos-hawk!--His a.s.siduities; his watchings; his nightly risques; the inclement weather he journeys in; must not be all placed to your account. He has opportunities of making every thing light to him of that sort. A sweet pretty girl, I am told--innocent till he went thither--Now! (Ah! poor girl!) who knows what?

But just turned of seventeen!--His friend and brother-rake (a man of humour and intrigue) as I am told, to share the social bottle with.

And sometimes another disguised rake or two. No sorrow comes near their hearts. Be not disturbed, my dear, at his hoa.r.s.enesses! his pretty, Betsey, his Rosebud, as the vile wretch calls her, can hear all he says.

He is very fond of her. They say she is innocent even yet--her father, her grandmother, believe her to be so. He is to fortune her out to a young lover!--Ah! the poor young lover!--Ah! the poor simple girl!

Mr. Hickman tells me, that he heard in town, that he used to be often at plays, and at the opera, with women; and every time with a different one--Ah! my sweet friend!--But I hope he is nothing to you, if all this were truth.--But this intelligence, in relation to this poor girl, will do his business, if you had been ever so good friends before.

A vile wretch! Cannot such purity in pursuit, in view, restrain him? but I leave him to you!--There can be no hope of him. More of a fool, than of such a man. Yet I wish I may be able to s.n.a.t.c.h the poor young creature out of his villainous paws. I have laid a scheme to do so; if indeed she be hitherto innocent and heart-free.

He appears to the people as a military man, in disguise, secreting himself on account of a duel fought in town; the adversary's life in suspense. They believe he is a great man. His friend pa.s.ses for an inferior officer; upon a footing of freedom with him. He, accompanied by a third man, who is a sort of subordinate companion to the second. The wretch himself with but one servant.

O my dear! how pleasantly can these devils, as I must call them, pa.s.s their time, while our gentle bosoms heave with pity for their supposed sufferings for us!

I have sent for this girl and her father; and am just now informed, that I shall see them. I will sift them thoroughly. I shall soon find out such a simple thing as this, if he has not corrupted her already--and if he has, I shall soon find out that too.--If more art than nature appears either in her or her father, I shall give them both up--but depend upon it, the girl's undone.

He is said to be fond of her. He places her at the upper end of his table. He sets her a-prattling. He keeps his friends at a distance from her. She prates away. He admires for nature all she says. Once was heard to call her charming little creature! An hundred has he called so no doubt. He puts her upon singing. He praises her wild note--O my dear, the girl's undone!--must be undone!--The man, you know, is LOVELACE.

Let 'em bring Wyerley to you, if they will have you married--any body but Solmes and Lovelace be yours!--So advises

Your ANNA HOWE.

My dearest friend, consider this alehouse as his garrison: him as an enemy: his brother-rakes as his a.s.sistants and abettors. Would not your brother, would not your uncles, tremble, if they knew how near them he is, as they pa.s.s to and fro?--I am told, he is resolved you shall not be carried to your uncle Antony's.--What can you do, with or without such an enterprising--

Fill up the blank I leave.--I cannot find a word bad enough

LETTER XXVII

MISS CLARISSA HARLOWE, TO MISS HOWE FRIDAY, THREE O'CLOCK.

You incense, alarm, and terrify me, at the same time.--Hasten, my dearest friend, hasten to me what further intelligence you can gather about this vilest of men.

But never talk of innocence, of simplicity, and this unhappy girl, together! Must she not know, that such a man as that, dignified in his very aspect; and no disguise able to conceal his being of condition; must mean too much, when he places her at the upper end of his table, and calls her by such tender names? Would a girl, modest as simple, above seventeen, be set a-singing at the pleasure of such a man as that? a stranger, and professedly in disguise!--Would her father and grandmother, if honest people, and careful of their simple girl, permit such freedoms?

Keep his friend at a distance from her!--To be sure his designs are villainous, if they have not been already effected.

Warn, my dear, if not too late, the unthinking father, of his child's danger. There cannot be a father in the world, who would sell his child's virtue. Nor mother!--The poor thing!

I long to hear the result of your intelligence. You shall see the simple creature, you tell me.--Let me know what sort of a girl she is.--A sweet pretty girl! you say. A sweet pretty girl, my dear!--They are sweet pretty words from your pen. But are they yours or his of her?--If she be so simple, if she have ease and nature in her manner, in her speech, and warbles prettily her wild notes, why, such a girl as that must engage such a profligate wretch, (as now indeed I doubt this man is,) accustomed, perhaps, to town women, and their confident ways.--Must deeply and for a long season engage him: since perhaps when her innocence is departed, she will endeavour by art to supply the loss of the natural charms which now engage him.

Fine hopes of such a wretch's reformation! I would not, my dear, for the world, have any thing to say--but I need not make resolutions. I have not opened, nor will I open, his letter.--A sycophant creature!--With his hoa.r.s.enesses--got perhaps by a midnight revel, singing to his wild note singer, and only increased in the coppice!

To be already on a footing!--In his esteem, I mean: for myself, I despise him. I hate myself almost for writing so much about him, and of such a simpleton as this sweet pretty girl as you call her: but no one can be either sweet or pretty, that is not modest, that is not virtuous.

And now, my dear, I will tell you how I came to put you upon this inquiry.

This vile Joseph Leman had given a hint to Betty, and she to me, as if Lovelace would be found out to be a very bad man, at a place where he had been lately seen in disguise. But he would see further, he said, before he told her more; and she promised secrecy, in hope to get at further intelligence. I thought it could be no harm, to get you to inform yourself, and me, of what could be gathered.* And now I see, his enemies are but too well warranted in their reports of him: and, if the ruin of this poor young creature be his aim, and if he had not known her but for his visits to Harlowe-place, I shall have reason to be doubly concerned for her; and doubly incensed against so vile a man.

* It will be seen in Vol.I.Letter x.x.xIV. that Mr. Lovelace's motive for sparing his Rosebud was twofold. First, Because his pride was gratified by the grandmother's desiring him to spare her grand-daughter. Many a pretty rogue, say he, had I spared, whom I did not spare, had my power been acknowledged, and my mercy in time implored. But the debellare superbos should be my motto, were I to have a new one.

His other motive will be explained in the following pa.s.sage, in the same. I never was so honest, for so long together, says he, since my matriculation. It behoves me so to be.

Some way or other my recess [at the little inn] may be found out, and it then will be thought that my Rosebud has attracted me. A report in my favour, from simplicities so amiable, may establish me, &c.

Accordingly, as the reader will hereafter see, Mr. Lovelace finds by the effects, his expectations from the contrivance he set on foot by means of his agent Joseph Leman (who plays, as above, upon Betty Barnes) fully answered, though he could not know what pa.s.sed on the occasion between the two ladies.

This explanation is the more necessary to be given, as several of our readers (through want of due attention) have attributed to Mr. Lovelace, on his behaviour to his Rosebud, a greater merit than was due to him; and moreover imagined, that it was improbable, that a man, who was capable of acting so generously (as they supposed) in this instance, should be guilty of any atrocious vileness. Not considering, that love, pride, and revenge as he owns in Vol.I.Letter x.x.xI. were ingredients of equal force in his composition; and that resistance was a stimulus to him.

I think I hate him worse than I do Solmes himself.

But I will not add one more word about hi,; and after I have told you, that I wish to know, as soon as possible what further occurs from your inquiry. I have a letter from him; but shall not open it till I do: and then, if it come out as I dare say it will, I will directly put the letter unopened into the place I took it from, and never trouble myself more about him. Adieu, my dearest friend.

CL. HARLOWE.