LETTER III
MR. LOVELACE, TO JOSEPH LEMAN SAT. APRIL 8.
HONEST JOSEPH,
At length your beloved young lady has consented to free herself fromthe cruel treatment she has so long borne. She is to meet me without thegarden-door at about four o'clock on Monday afternoon. I told you shehad promised to do so. She has confirmed her promise. Thank Heaven shehas confirmed her promise!
I shall have a chariot-and-six ready in the by-road fronting the privatepath to Harlowe-paddock; and several of my friends and servants not faroff, armed to protect her, if there be occasion: but every one chargedto avoid mischief. That, you know, has always been my principal care.
All my fear is, that, when she comes to the point, the over-niceness ofher principles will make her waver, and want to go back: although herhonour is my honour, you know, and mine is her's. If she should, andshould I be unable to prevail upon her, all your past services willavail nothing, and she will be lost to me for ever: the prey then ofthat cursed Solmes, whose vile stinginess will never permit him to dogood to any of the servants of the family.
I have no doubt of your fidelity, honest Joseph; nor of your zeal toserve an injured gentleman, and an oppressed young lady. You see by theconfidence I repose in you, that I have not; more particularly, on thisvery important occasion, in which your assistance may crown the work:for, if she waver, a little innocent contrivance will be necessary.
Be very mindful, therefore, of the following directions; take them intoyour heart. This will probably be your last trouble, until my belovedand I are joined in holy wedlock: and then we will be sure to take careof you. You know what I have promised. No man ever reproached me forbreach of word.
These, then, honest Joseph, are they:
Contrive to be in the garden, in disguise, if possible, and unseen byyour young lady. If you find the garden-door unbolted, you will knowthat she and I are together, although you should not see her go out atit. It will be locked, but my key shall be on the ground just withoutthe door, that you may open it with your's, as it may be needful.
If you hear our voices parleying, keep at the door till I cry Hem, hem,twice: but be watchful for this signal; for I must not hem very loud,lest she should take it for a signal. Perhaps, in struggling to prevailupon the dear creature, I may have an opportunity to strike the doorhard with my elbow, or heel, to confirm you--then you are to make aviolent burst against the door, as if you would break it open, drawingbackward and forward the bolt in a hurry: then, with another push, butwith more noise than strength, lest the lock give way, cry out (as ifyou saw some of the family) Come up, come up, instantly!--Here theyare! Here they are!--Hasten!--This instant! hasten! And mention swords,pistols, guns, with as terrible a voice as you can cry out with. Thenshall I prevail upon her, no doubt, if loth before, to fly. If I cannot,I will enter the garden with her, and the house too, be the consequencewhat it will. But, so affrighted, these is no question but she will fly.
When you think us at a sufficient distance [and I shall raise my voiceurging her swifter flight, that you may guess at that] then open thedoor with your key: but you must be sure to open it very cautiously,lest we should not be far enough off. I would not have her know you havea hand in this matter, out of my great regard to you.
When you have opened the door, take your key out of the lock, and putit in your pocket: then, stooping for mine, put it in the lock on theinside, that it may appear as if the door was opened by herself, witha key, which they will suppose to be of my procuring (it being new) andleft open by us.
They should conclude she is gone off by her own consent, that they maynot pursue us: that they may see no hopes of tempting her back again. Ineither case, mischief might happen, you know.
But you must take notice, that you are only to open the door with yourkey, in case none of the family come up to interrupt us, and before weare quite gone: for, if they do, you'll find by what follows, that youmust not open the door at all. Let them, on breaking it open, or bygetting over the wall, find my key on the ground, if they will.
If they do not come to interrupt us, and if you, by help of your key,come out, follow us at a distance; and, with uplifted hands, and wildimpatient gestures, (running backward and forward, for fear youshould come up too near us, and as if you saw somebody coming to yourassistance,) cry out for help, help, and to hasten. Then shall we besoon at the chariot.
Tell the family that you saw me enter a chariot with her: a dozen,or more, men on horseback, attending us; all armed; some withblunderbusses, as you believe; and that we took quite the contrary wayto that we should take.
You see, honest Joseph, how careful I am, as well as you, to avoidmischief.
Observe to keep at such a distance that she may not discover who youare. Take long strides, to alter your gait; and hold up your head,honest Joseph; and she'll not know it to be you. Men's airs and gaitsare as various and peculiar as their faces. Pluck a stake out of one ofthe hedges: and tug at it, though it may come easy: this, if she turnback, will look terrible, and account for your not following us faster.Then, returning with it, shouldered, to brag to the family what youwould have done, could you have overtaken us, rather than your younglady should be carried off by such a ------ And you may call me names,and curse me. And these airs will make you look valiant, and in earnest.You see, honest Joseph, I am always contriving to give you reputation.No man suffers by serving me.
But, if our parley should last longer than I wish; and if any of herfriends miss her before I cry, Hem, hem, twice; then, in order to saveyourself, (which is a very great point with me, I assure you,) make thesame noise as above: but as I directed before, open not the door withyour key. On the contrary, wish for a key with all your heart; butfor fear any of them should by accident have a key about them, keep inreadiness half a dozen little gravel-stones, no bigger than peas, andthrust two or three slily into the key-hole; which will hinder theirkey from turning round. It is good, you know, Joseph, to provide againstevery accident in such an important case, as this. And let this be yourcry, instead of the other, if any of my enemies come in your sight, asyou seem to be trying to burst the door open, Sir! Sir! or Madam! Madam!O Lord, hasten! O Lord, hasten! Mr. Lovelace! Mr. Lovelace!--And veryloud--and that shall quicken me more than it shall those you callto.--If it be Betty, and only Betty, I shall think worse of your artof making love* than of your fidelity, if you can't find a way to amuseher, and put her upon a false scent.
* See Vol.II. Letter XXIX.
You must tell them that your young lady seemed to run as fast off withme as I with her. This will also confirm to them that all pursuit isin vain. An end will hereby be put to Solmes's hopes: and her friends,after a while, will be more studious to be reconciled to her than to gether back. So you will be a happy instrument of great good to all round.And this will one day be acknowledged by both families. You will then beevery one's favourite; and every good servant, for the future, will beproud to be likened to honest Joseph Leman.
If she should guess at you, or find you out, I have it already in myhead to write a letter for you to copy,* which, occasionally produced,will set you right with her.
* See Vol.III. Letter XXI.
This one time be diligent, be careful: this will be the crown of all:and once more, depend, for a recompense, upon the honour of
Your assured friend, R. LOVELACE.
You need not be so much afraid of going too far with Betty. If youshould make a match with her, she is a very likely creature, thougha vixen, as you say. I have an admirable receipt to cure a termagantwife.--Never fear, Joseph, but thou shalt be master of thine house. Ifshe be very troublesome, I can teach thee how to break her heart in atwelvemonth; and honestly too;--or the precept would not be mine.
I enclose a new earnest of my future favour.