He hoped I should be induced to think otherwise.
And then would he have run into his fortune, his settlements, his affection—vowing, that never man loved a woman with so sincere a passion as he loved me.
I stopped him, as to the first part of his speech: and to the second, of the sincerity of his passion, What then, Sir, said I, is your love to one, who must assure you, that never young creature looked upon man with a more sincere disapprobation, than I look upon you? And tell me, what argument can you urge, that this true declaration answers not before-hand?
Dearest Madam, what can I say?—On my knees I beg—
And down the ungraceful wretch dropped on his knees.
Let me not kneel in vain, Madam: let me not be thus despised.—And he looked most odiously sorrowful.
I have kneeled too, Mr. Solmes: often have I kneeled: and I will kneel again—even to you, Sir, will I kneel, if there be so much merit in kneeling; provided you will not be the implement of my cruel brother's undeserved persecution.
If all the services, even to worship you, during my whole life—You, Madam, invoke and expect mercy; yet shew none—
Am I to be cruel to myself, to shew mercy to you; take my estate, Sir, with all my heart, since you are such a favourite in this house!—only leave me myself—the mercy you ask for, do you shew to others.
If you mean to my relations, Madam—unworthy as they are, all shall be done that you shall prescribe.