Clarissa Harlowe, Samuel Richardson [black authors fiction .txt] 📗

myself a better interest in these women. But the whole sex love plotting⁠—and plotters too, Jack.

Cl. A barn, an outhouse, a garret, will be a palace to me, if it will but afford me a refuge from this man!

Her senses, thought I, are much livelier than mine.⁠—What a devil have I done, that she should be so very implacable? I told thee, Belford, all I did: Was there anything in it so very much amiss? Such prospects of a family reconciliation before her too! To be sure she is a very sensible lady!

She then espied my new servant walking under the window, and asked if he were not one of mine?

Will was on the lookout for old Grimes, (so is the fellow called whom my beloved has dispatched to Miss Howe). And being told that the man she saw was my servant; I see, said she, that there is no escaping, unless you, Madam, (to Miss Rawlins, I suppose), can befriend me till I can get farther. I have no doubt that the fellow is planted about the house to watch my steps. But the wicked wretch his master has no right to control me. He shall not hinder me from going where I please. I will raise the town upon him, if he molests me. Dear Ladies, is there no backdoor for me to get out at while you hold him in talk?

Miss R. Give me leave to ask you, Madam, Is there no room to hope for accommodation? Had you not better see him? He certainly loves you dearly: he is a fine gentleman; you may exasperate him, and make matters more unhappy for yourself.

Cl. O Mrs. Moore! O Miss Rawlins! you know not the man! I wish not to see his face, nor to exchange another word with him as long as I live.

Mrs. Moore. I don’t find, Miss Rawlins, that the gentleman has misrepresented anything. You see, Madam, (to my Clarissa), how respectful he is; not to come in till permitted. He certainly loves you dearly. Pray, Madam, let him talk to you, as he wishes to do, on the subject of his letters.

Very kind of Mrs. Moore!⁠—Mrs. Moore, thought I, is a very good woman. I did not curse her then.

Miss Rawlins said something; but so low that I could not hear what it was. Thus it was answered.

Cl. I am greatly distressed! I know not what to do!⁠—But, Mrs. Moore, be so good as to give his letters to him⁠—here they are.⁠—Be pleased to tell him, that I wish him and Lady Betty and Miss Montague a happy meeting. He never can want excuses to them for what has happened, any more than pretences to those he would delude. Tell him, that he has ruined me in the opinion of my own friends. I am for that reason the less solicitous how I appear to his.

Mrs. Moore then came to me; and I, being afraid that something would pass meantime between the other two, which I should not like, took the letters, and entered the room, and found them retired into the closet; my beloved whispering with an air of earnestness to Miss Rawlins, who was all attention.

Her back was towards me; and Miss Rawlins, by pulling her sleeve, giving intimation of my being there⁠—Can I have no retirement uninvaded, Sir, said she, with indignation, as if she were interrupted in some talk her heart was in?⁠—What business have you here, or with me?⁠—You have your letters; have you not?

Lovel. I have, my dear; and let me beg of you to consider what you are about. I every moment expect Captain Tomlinson here. Upon my soul, I do. He has promised to keep from your uncle what has happened: but what will he think if he find you hold in this strange humour?

Cl. I will endeavour, Sir, to have patience with you for a moment or two, while I ask you a few questions before this lady, and before Mrs. Moore, (who just then came in), both of whom you have prejudiced in your favour by your specious stories:⁠—Will you say, Sir, that we are married together? Lay your hand upon your heart, and answer me, am I your wedded wife?

I am gone too far, thought I, to give up for such a push as this, home one as it is.

My dearest soul! how can you put such a question? It is either for your honour or my own, that it should be doubted?⁠—Surely, surely, Madam, you cannot have attended to the contents of Captain Tomlinson’s letter.

She complained often of want of spirits throughout our whole contention, and of weakness of person and mind, from the fits she had been thrown into: but little reason had she for this complaint, as I thought, who was able to hold me to it, as she did. I own that I was excessively concerned for her several times.

You and I! Vilest of Men!⁠—

My name is Lovelace, Madam⁠—

Therefore it is that I call you the vilest of men. (Was this pardonable, Jack!)⁠—You and I know the truth, the whole truth.⁠—I want not to clear up my reputation with these gentlewomen:⁠—that is already lost with everyone I had most reason to value: but let me have this new specimen of what you are capable of⁠—say, wretch, (say, Lovelace, if thou hadst rather), art thou really and truly my wedded husband?⁠—Say; answer without hesitation.

She trembled with impatient indignation; but had a wildness in her manner, which I took some advantage of, in order to parry this cursed thrust. And a cursed thrust it was; since, had I positively averred it, she would never have believed anything I said: and had I owned that I was not married, I had destroyed my own plot, as well with the women as with her; and could have no pretence for pursuing her, or hindering her from going wheresoever she pleased. Not that I was ashamed to aver