LETTER IV
MR. LOVELACE, TO JOHN BELFORD, ESQ.SIX, SATURDAY MORNING, JULY 8.
Have I nothing new, nothing diverting, in my whimsical way, thou askest,in one of thy three letters before me, to entertain thee with?--And thoutallest me, that, when I have least to narrate, to speak, in the Scottishphrase, I am most diverting. A pretty compliment, either to thyself, orto me. To both indeed!--a sign that thou hast as frothy a heart as I ahead. But canst thou suppose that this admirable woman is not all, isnot every thing with me? Yet I dread to think of her too; for detectionof all my contrivances, I doubt, must come next.
The old peer is also full of Miss Harlowe: and so are my cousins. Hehopes I will not be such a dog [there's a specimen of his peer-likedialect] as to think of doing dishonourably by a woman of so much merit,beauty, and fortune; and he says of so good a family. But I tell him,that this is a string he must not touch: that it is a very tender point:in short, is my sore place; and that I am afraid he would handle it tooroughly, were I to put myself in the power of so ungentle an operator.
He shakes his crazy head. He thinks all is not as it should be betweenus; longs to have me present her to him as my wife; and often tells mewhat great things he will do, additional to his former proposals; andwhat presents he will make on the birth of the first child. But I hopethe whole of his estate will be in my hands before such an event takesplace. No harm in hoping, Jack! Lord M. says, were it not for hope, theheart would break.
***
Eight o'clock at Midsummer, and these lazy varletesses (in full health)not come down yet to breakfast!--What a confounded indecency in youngladies, to let a rake know that they love their beds so dearly, and, atthe same time, where to have them! But I'll punish them--they shallbreakfast with their old uncle, and yawn at one another as if for awager; while I drive my phaeton to Colonel Ambroses's, who yesterday gaveme an invitation both to breakfast and dine, on account of two Yorkshirenieces, celebrated toasts, who have been with him this fortnight past;and who, he says, want to see me. So, Jack, all women do not run awayfrom me, thank Heaven!--I wish I could have leave of my heart, since thedear fugitive is so ungrateful, to drive her out of it with anotherbeauty. But who can supplant her? Who can be admitted to a place in itafter Miss Clarissa Harlowe?
At my return, if I can find a subject, I will scribble on, to obligethee.
My phaeton's ready. My cousins send me word they are just coming down:so in spite I'll be gone.
SATURDAY AFTERNOON.
I did stay to dine with the Colonel, and his lady, and nieces: but Icould not pass the afternoon with them, for the heart of me. There wasenough in the persons and faces of the two young ladies to set me uponcomparisons. Particular features held my attention for a few moments:but these served but to whet my impatience to find the charmer of mysoul; who, for person, for air, for mind, never had any equal. My heartrecoiled and sickened upon comparing minds and conversation. Pert wit, atoo-studied desire to please; each in high good humour with herself; anopen-mouth affectation in both, to show white teeth, as if the principalexcellence; and to invite amorous familiarity, by the promise of a sweetbreath; at the same time reflecting tacitly upon breaths arrogantlyimplied to be less pure.
Once I could have borne them.
They seemed to be disappointed that I was so soon able to leave them.Yet have I not at present so much vanity [my Clarissa has cured me of myvanity] as to attribute their disappointment so much to particular likingof me, as to their own self-admiration. They looked upon me as aconnoisseur in beauty. They would have been proud of engaging myattention, as such: but so affected, so flimsy-witted, mere skin-deepbeauties!--They had looked no farther into themselves than what theirglasses were flattering-glasses too; for I thought them passive-faced,and spiritless; with eyes, however, upon the hunt for conquests, andbespeaking the attention of others, in order to countenance their own.----I believe I could, with a little pains, have given them life andsoul, and to every feature of their faces sparkling information--but myClarissa!--O Belford, my Clarissa has made me eyeless and senseless toevery other beauty!--Do thou find her for me, as a subject worthy of mypen, or this shall be the last from
ThyLOVELACE.