LETTER XXV
MR. LOVELACE, TO JOHN BELFORD, ESQ.TUES. MORN. TEN O'CLOCK
Very ill--exceedingly ill--as Dorcas tells me, in order to avoid seeingme--and yet the dear soul may be so in her mind. But is not thatequivocation? Some one passion predominating in every human breast,breaks through principle, and controuls us all. Mine is love and revengetaking turns. Her's is hatred.--But this is my consolation, that hatredappeased is love begun; or love renewed, I may rather say, if love everhad footing here.
But reflectioning apart, thou seest, Jack, that her plot is beginning towork. To-morrow is to break out.
I have been abroad, to set on foot a plot of circumvention. All fairnow, Belford!
I insisted upon visiting my indisposed fair-one. Dorcas made officiousexcuses for her. I cursed the wench in her hearing for her impertinence;and stamped and made a clutter; which was improved into an apprehensionto the lady that I would have flung her faithful confidante from the topof the stairs to the bottom.
He is a violent wretch!--But, Dorcas, [dear Dorcas, now it is,] thoushalt have a friend in me to the last day of my life.
And what now, Jack, dost think the name of her good angel is!--Why DorcasMartindale, christian and super (no more Wykes) as in the promissory notein my former--and the dear creature has bound her to her by the mostsolemn obligations, besides the tie of interest.
Whither, Madam, do you design to go when you get out of this house?
I will throw myself into the first open house I can find; and begprotection till I can get a coach, or a lodging in some honest family.
What will you do for clothes, Madam? I doubt you'll be able to take anyaway with you, but what you'll have on.
O, no matter for clothes, if I can but get out of this house.
What will you do for money, Madam? I have heard his honour express hisconcern, that he could not prevail upon you to be obliged to him, thoughhe apprehended that you must be short of money.
O, I have rings and other valuables. Indeed I have but four guineas, andtwo of them I found lately wrapt up in a bit of lace, designed for acharitable use. But now, alas! charity begins at home!--But I have onedear friend left, if she be living, as I hope in God she is! to whom Ican be obliged, if I want. O Dorcas! I must ere now have heard from her,if I had had fair play.
Well, Madam, your's is a hard lot. I pity you at my heart!
Thank you, Dorcas!--I am unhappy, that I did not think before, that I mighthave confided in thy pity, and in thy sex!
I pitied you, Madam, often and often: but you were always, as I thought,diffident of me. And then I doubted not but you were married; and Ithought his honour was unkindly used by you. So that I thought it myduty to wish well to his honour, rather than to what I thought to be yourhumours, Madam. Would to Heaven that I had known before that you werenot married!--Such a lady! such a fortune! to be so sadly betrayed;----
Ah, Dorcas! I was basely drawn in! My youth--my ignorance of the world--and I have some things to reproach myself with when I look back.
Lord, Madam, what deceitful creatures are these men!--Neither oaths, norvows--I am sure! I am sure! [and then with her apron she gave her eyeshalf a dozen hearty rubs] I may curse the time that I came into thishouse!
Here was accounting for her bold eyes! And was it not better for Dorcasto give up a house which her lady could not think worse of than she did,in order to gain the reputation of sincerity, than by offering tovindicate it, to make her proffered services suspected.
Poor Dorcas!--Bless me! how little do we, who have lived all our time inthe country, know of this wicked town!
Had I been able to write, cried the veteran wench, I should certainlyhave given some other near relations I have in Wales a little inkling ofmatters; and they would have saved me from----from----from----
Her sobs were enough. The apprehensions of women on such subjects areever aforehand with speech.
And then, sobbing on, she lifted her apron to her face again. She showedme how.
Poor Dorcas!--Again wiping her own charming eyes.
All love, all compassion, is this dear creature to every one inaffliction but me.
And would not an aunt protect her kinswoman?--Abominable wretch!
I can't--I can't--I can't--say, my aunt was privy to it. She gave megood advice. She knew not for a great while that I was--that I was--thatI was--ugh!--ugh!--ugh!--
No more, no more, good Dorcas--What a world do we live in!--What a houseam I in!--But come, don't weep, (though she herself could not forbear:)my being betrayed into it, though to my own ruin, may be a happy eventfor thee: and, if I live, it shall.
I thank you, my good lady, blubbering. I am sorry, very sorry, you havehad so hard a lot. But it may be the saving of my soul, if I can get toyour ladyship's house. Had I but known that your ladyship was notmarried, I would have eat my own flesh, before----before----before----
Dorcas sobbed and wept. The lady sighed and wept also.
But now, Jack, for a serious reflection upon the premises.
How will the good folks account for it, that Satan has such faithfulinstruments, and that the bond of wickedness is a stronger bond than theties of virtue; as if it were the nature of the human mind to be villanous?For here, had Dorcas been good, and been tempted as she was tempted to anything evil, I make no doubt but she would have yielded to the temptation.
And cannot our fraternity in an hundred instances give proof of the likepredominance of vice over virtue? And that we have risked more to serveand promote the interests of the former, than ever a good man did toserve a good man or a good cause? For have we not been prodigal of lifeand fortune? have we not defied the civil magistrate upon occasion? andhave we not attempted rescues, and dared all things, only to extricate apounded profligate?
Whence, Jack, can this be?
O! I have it, I believe. The vicious are as bad as they can be; and dothe Devil's work without looking after; while he is continually spreadingsnares for the others; and, like a skilful angler, suiting his baits tothe fish he angles for.
Nor let even honest people, so called, blame poor Dorcas for her fidelityin a bad cause. For does not the general, who implicitly serves anambitious prince in his unjust designs upon his neighbours, or upon hisown oppressed subjects; and even the lawyer, who, for the sake of apaltry fee, undertakes to whiten a black cause, and to defend it againstone he knows to be good, do the very same thing as Dorcas? And are theynot both every whit as culpable? Yet the one shall be dubbed a hero, theother called an admirable fellow, and be contended for by every client,and his double-tongued abilities shall carry him through all the highpreferments of the law with reputation and applause.
Well, but what shall be done, since the lady is so much determined onremoving!--Is there no way to oblige her, and yet to make the very actsubservient to my other views? I fancy such a way may be found out.
I will study for it----
Suppose I suffer her to make an escape? Her heart is in it. If sheeffect it, the triumph she will have over me upon it will be acounterbalance for all she has suffered.
I will oblige her if I can.