LETTER XXIII
MR. LOVELACE, TO JOHN BELFORD, ESQ.UXBRIDGE, SAT. SEPT. 9.
JACK,
I think it absolutely right that my ever-dear and beloved lady should beopened and embalmed. It must be done out of hand this very afternoon.Your acquaintance, Tomkins, and old Anderson of this place, I will bringwith me, shall be the surgeons. I have talked to the latter about it.
I will see every thing done with that decorum which the case, and thesacred person of my beloved require.
Every thing that can be done to preserve the charmer from decay shallalso be done. And when she will descend to her original dust, or cannotbe kept longer, I will then have her laid in my family-vault, between myown father and mother. Myself, as I am in my soul, so in person, chiefmourner. But her heart, to which I have such unquestionable pretensions,in which once I had so large a share, and which I will prize above myown, I will have. I will keep it in spirits. It shall never be out ofmy sight. And all the charges of sepulture too shall be mine.
Surely nobody will dispute my right to her. Whose was she living?--Whoseis she dead but mine?--Her cursed parents, whose barbarity to her, nodoubt, was the true cause of her death, have long since renounced her.She left them for me. She chose me therefore; and I was her husband.What though I treated her like a villain? Do I not pay for it now?Would she not have been mine had I not? Nobody will dispute but shewould. And has she not forgiven me?--I am then in statu quo prius withher, am I not? as if I had never offended?--Whose then can she be butmine?
I will free you from your executorship, and all your cares.
Take notice, Belford, that I do hereby actually discharge you, and everybody, from all cares and troubles relating to her. And as to her lasttestament, I will execute it myself.
There were no articles between us, no settlements; and she is mine, asyou see I have proved to a demonstration; nor could she dispose ofherself but as I pleased.--D----n----n seize me then if I make not goodmy right against all opposers!
Her bowels, if her friends are very solicitous about them, and veryhumble and sorrowful, (and none have they of their own,) shall be sentdown to them--to be laid with her ancestors--unless she has orderedotherwise. For, except that, she shall not be committed to the unworthyearth so long as she can be kept out of it, her will shall be performedin every thing.
I send in the mean time for a lock of her hair.
I charge you stir not in any part of her will but by my expressdirection. I will order every thing myself. For am I not her husband?and, being forgiven by her, am I not the chosen of her heart? What elsesignifies her forgiveness?
The two insufferable wretches you have sent me plague me to death, andwould treat me like a babe in strings.--D--n the fellows, what end canthey mean by it? Yet that crippled monkey Doleman joins with them. And,as I hear them whisper, they have sent for Lord M.--to controul me, Isuppose.
What I write to you for is,
1. To forbid you intermeddling with any thing relating to her. Toforbid Morden intermeddling also. If I remember right, he has threatenedme, and cursed me, and used me ill--and let him be gone from her, if hewould avoid my resentment.
2. To send me a lock of her hair instantly by the bearer.
3. To engage Tomkins to have every thing ready for the opening andembalming. I shall bring Anderson with me.
4. To get her will and every thing ready for my perusal andconsideration.
I will have possession of her dear heart this very night; and let Tomkinsprovide a proper receptacle and spirits, till I can get a golden one madefor it.
I will take her papers. And, as no one can do her memory justice equalto myself, and I will not spare myself, who can better show the worldwhat she was, and what a villain he that could use her ill? And theworld shall also see what implacable and unworthy parents she had.
All shall be set forth in words at length. No mincing of the matter.Names undisguised as well as facts. For, as I shall make the worstfigure in it myself, and have a right to treat myself as nobody elseshall, who shall controul me? who dare call me to account?
Let me know, if the d----d mother be yet the subject of the devil's ownvengeance--if the old wretch be dead or alive? Some exemplary mischiefI must yet do. My revenge shall sweep away that devil, and all myopposers of the cruel Harlowe family, from the face of the earth. Wholehecatombs ought to be offered up to the manes of my Clarissa Lovelace.
Although her will may in some respects cross mine, yet I expect to beobserved. I will be the interpreter of her's.
Next to mine, her's shall be observed: for she is my wife, and shall beto all eternity.--I will never have another.
Adieu, Jack, I am preparing to be with you. I charge you, as you valuemy life or your own, do not oppose me in any thing relating to myClarissa Lovelace.
My temper is entirely altered. I know not what it is to laugh, or smile,or be pleasant. I am grown choleric and impatient, and will not becontrouled.
I write this in characters as I used to do, that nobody but you shouldknow what I write. For never was any man plagued with impertinents asI am.
R. LOVELACE.
IN A SEPARATE PAPER ENCLOSED IN THE ABOVE.
Let me tell thee, in characters still, that I am in a dreadful way justnow. My brain is all boiling like a cauldron over a fiery furnace. Whata devil is the matter with me, I wonder! I never was so strange in mylife.
In truth, Jack, I have been a most execrable villain. And when Iconsider all my actions to the angel of a woman, and in her the piety,the charity, the wit, the beauty, I have helped to destroy, and the goodto the world I have thereby been a mean of frustrating, I can pronounced----n----n upon myself. How then can I expect mercy any where else?
I believe I shall have no patience with you when I see you. Your d----dstings and reflections have almost turned my brain.
But here Lord M. they tell me, is come!--D----n him, and those who sentfor him!
I know not what I have written. But her dear heart and a lock of herhair I will have, let who will be the gainsayers! For is she not mine?Whose else can she be? She has no father nor mother, no sister, nobrother, no relations but me. And my beloved is mine, and I am her's--and that's enough.--But Oh!--
She's out. The damp of death has quench'd her quite! Those spicy doors, her lips, are shut, close lock'd, Which never gale of life shall open more!
And is it so?--Is it indeed so?--Good God!--Good God!--But they will notlet me write on. I must go down to this officious Peer--Who the devilsent for him?