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

house till matters could be made up. The people she had lodged with loved her:⁠—but she had left her lodgings privately.

Oh! had she those tricks already? cried one or two.

She heard not this⁠—but said⁠—Well, if I must go, I must⁠—I cannot resist⁠—but I will not be carried to the woman’s! I will rather die at your feet, than be carried to the woman’s.

You won’t be carried there, Madam, cried thy fellow.

Only to my house, Madam, said one of the officers.

Where is that?

In High-Holborn, Madam.

I know not where High-Holborn is: but anywhere, except to the woman’s.⁠—But am I to go with men only?

Looking about her, and seeing the three passages, to wit, that leading to Henrietta-street, that to King-street, and the fore-right one, to Bedford-street, crowded, she started⁠—Anywhere⁠—anywhere, said she, but to the woman’s! And stepping into the chair, threw herself on the seat, in the utmost distress and confusion⁠—Carry me, carry me out of sight⁠—cover me⁠—cover me up⁠—forever⁠—were her words.

Thy villain drew the curtain: she had not power: and they went away with her through a vast crowd of people.

Here I must rest. I can write no more at present.

Only, Lovelace, remember, all this was to a Clarissa.

The unhappy lady fainted away when she was taken out of the chair at the officer’s house.

Several people followed the chair to the very house, which is in a wretched court. Sally was there; and satisfied some of the inquirers, that the young gentlewoman would be exceedingly well used: and they soon dispersed.

Dorcas was also there; but came not in her sight. Sally, as a favour, offered to carry her to her former lodgings: but she declared they should carry her thither a corpse, if they did.

Very gentle usage the women boast of: so would a vulture, could it speak, with the entrails of its prey upon its rapacious talons. Of this you’ll judge from what I have to recite.

She asked, what was meant by this usage of her? People told me, said she, that I must go with the men: that they had authority to take me: so I submitted. But now, what is to be the end of this disgraceful violence?

The end, said the vile Sally Martin, is, for honest people to come at their own.

Bless me! have I taken away anything that belongs to those who have obtained the power over me?⁠—I have left very valuable things behind me; but have taken away that is not my own.

And who do you think, Miss Harlowe; for I understand, said the cursed creature, you are not married; who do you think is to pay for your board and your lodgings! such handsome lodgings! for so long a time as you were at Mrs. Sinclair’s?

Lord have mercy upon me!⁠—Miss Martin, (I think you are Miss Martin!)⁠—And is this the cause of such a disgraceful insult upon me in the open streets?

And cause enough, Miss Harlowe! (fond of gratifying her jealous revenge, by calling her Miss)⁠—One hundred and fifty guineas, or pounds, is no small sum to lose⁠—and by a young creature who would have bilked her lodgings.

You amaze me, Miss Martin!⁠—What language do you talk in?⁠—Bilk my lodgings?⁠—What is that?

She stood astonished and silent for a few moments.

But recovering herself, and turning from her to the window, she wrung her hands (the cursed Sally showed me how!) and lifting them up⁠—Now, Lovelace: now indeed do I think I ought to forgive thee!⁠—But who shall forgive Clarissa Harlowe!⁠—O my sister!⁠—O my brother!⁠—Tender mercies were your cruelties to this!

After a pause, her handkerchief drying up her falling tears, she turned to Sally: Now, have I nothing to do but acquiesce⁠—only let me say, that if this aunt of yours, this Mrs. Sinclair, or this man, this Mr. Lovelace, come near me; or if I am carried to the horrid house; (for that, I suppose, is the design of this new outrage); God be merciful to the poor Clarissa Harlowe!⁠—Look to the consequence!⁠—Look, I charge you, to the consequence!

The vile wretch told her, it was not designed to carry her anywhere against her will: but, if it were, they should take care not to be frighted again by a penknife.

She cast up her eyes to Heaven, and was silent⁠—and went to the farthest corner of the room, and, sitting down, threw her handkerchief over her face.

Sally asked her several questions; but not answering her, she told her, she would wait upon her by-and-by, when she had found her speech.

She ordered the people to press her to eat and drink. She must be fasting⁠—nothing but her prayers and tears, poor thing!⁠—were the merciless devil’s words, as she owned to me.⁠—Dost think I did not curse her?

She went away; and, after her own dinner, returned.

The unhappy lady, by this devil’s account of her, then seemed either mortified into meekness, or to have made a resolution not to be provoked by the insults of this cursed creature.

Sally inquired, in her presence, whether she had eat or drank anything; and being told by the woman, that she could not prevail upon her to taste a morsel, or drink a drop, she said, this is wrong, Miss Harlowe! Very wrong!⁠—Your religion, I think, should teach you, that starving yourself is self-murder.

She answered not.

The wretch owned she was resolved to make her speak.

She asked if Mabell should attend her, till it were seen what her friends would do for her in discharge of the debt? Mabell, said she, had not yet earned the clothes you were so good as to give her.

Am I not worthy an answer, Miss Harlowe?

I would answer you (said the sweet sufferer, without any emotion) if I knew how.

I have ordered pen, ink, and paper, to be brought you, Miss Harlowe. There they are. I know you love writing. You may write to whom you please. Your friend, Miss Howe, will expect to hear from you.

I have no friend, said she, I deserve none.

Rowland, for that’s the officer’s name, told her, she had friends enough to pay the debt, if she