Clarissa Harlowe; or the history of a young lady — Volume 5

by Samuel Richardson

* See Vol. IV. Letters XXIV.

***

>>> But now, my dear, do I apprehend, that you
are in greater danger than ever yet you have been
in; if you are not married in a week; and yet stay
in this abominable house. For were you out of it,
I own I should not be much afraid for you.
These are my thoughts, on the most deliberate
>>> consideration: 'That he is now convinced, that
he has not been able to draw you off your guard:
that therefore, if he can obtain no new advantage
over you as he goes along, he is resolved to do you
all the poor justice that it is in the power of such a
wretch as he to do you. He is the rather induced to
this, as he sees that all his own family have warmly
engaged themselves in your cause: and that it is
>>> his highest interest to be just to you. Then the
horrid wretch loves you (as well he may) above all
women. I have no doubt of this: with such a love
>>> as such a wretch is capable of: with such a love as
Herod loved his Marianne. He is now therefore,
very probably, at last, in earnest.'
I took time for inquiries of different natures, as
I knew, by the train you are in, that whatever his
designs are, they cannot ripen either for good or
>>> evil till something shall result from this device
of his about Tomlinson and your uncle.
Device I have no doubt that it is, whatever this
dark, this impenetrable spirit intends by it.

>>> And yet I find it to be true, that Counsellor
Williams (whom Mr. Hickman knows to be a man
of eminence in his profession) has actually as good
>>> as finished the settlements: that two draughts of
them have been made; one avowedly to be sent to
one Captain Tomlinson, as the clerk says:—and I
find that a license has actually been more than once
endeavoured to be obtained; and that difficulties
have hitherto been made, equally to Lovelace's
>>> vexation and disappointment. My mother's proctor,
who is very intimate with the proctor applied to
by the wretch, has come at this information in
confidence; and hints, that, as Mr. Lovelace is a
man of high fortunes, these difficulties will probably
be got over.
But here follow the causes of my apprehension of
your danger; which I should not have had a thought
>>> of (since nothing very vile has yet been attempted)
but on finding what a house you are in, and, on that
discovery, laying together and ruminating on past
occurrences.
'You are obliged, from the present favourable
>>> appearances, to give him your company whenever
he requests it.—You are under a necessity of for-
getting, or seeming to forget, past disobligations;
and to receive his addresses as those of a betrothed
lover.—You will incur the censure of prudery and
affectation, even perhaps in your own apprehension,
if you keep him at that distance which has hitherto
>>> been your security.—His sudden (and as suddenly
recovered) illness has given him an opportunity to
find out that you love him. [Alas! my dear, I
knew you loved him!] He is, as you relate, every
>>> hour more and more an encroacher upon it. He
has seemed to change his nature, and is all love and
>>> gentleness. The wolf has put on the sheep's cloth-
ing; yet more than once has shown his teeth, and
his hardly-sheathed claws. The instance you have
given of his freedom with your person,* which you
could not but resent; and yet, as matters are
circumstanced between you, could not but pass
over, when Tomlinson's letter called you into his
>>> company,** show the advantage he has now over
you; and also, that if he can obtain greater, he
will.—And for this very reason (as I apprehend) it
>>> is, that Tomlinson is introduced; that is to say, to
give you the greater security, and to be a mediator,
if mortal offence be given you by any villanous
attempt.—The day seems not now to be so much
in your power as it ought to be, since that now
partly depends on your uncle, whose presence, at
your own motion, he has wished on the occasion.
A wish, were all real, very unlikely, I think, to be
granted.'

* She means the freedom Mr. Lovelace took with her before the fire-plot. See Vol. V. Letter XI. When Miss Howe wrote this letter she could not know of that. ** See Vol. V. Letter XII.

>>> And thus situated, should he offer greater free-
doms, must you not forgive him?
I fear nothing (as I know who has said) that
devil carnate or incarnate can fairly do against a
>>> virtue so established.*—But surprizes, my dear, in
such a house as you are in, and in such circum-
stances as I have mentioned, I greatly fear! the
>>> man one who has already triumphed over persons
worthy of his alliance.

>>> What then have you to do, but to fly this house,
this infernal house!—O that your heart would let
you fly the man!

>>> If you should be disposed so to do, Mrs. Towns-
end shall be ready at your command.—But if you
meet with no impediments, no new causes of doubt,
I think your reputation in the eye of the world,
>>> though not your happiness, is concerned, that you
should be his—and yet I cannot bear that these
libertines should be rewarded for their villany with
the best of the sex, when the worst of it are too
good for them.
But if you meet with the least ground for
suspicion; if he would detain you at the odious
house, or wish you to stay, now you know what
>>> the people are; fly him, whatever your prospects
are, as well as them.
In one of your next airings, if you have no other
>>> way, refuse to return with him. Name me for your
intelligencer, that you are in a bad house, and if you
think you cannot now break with him, seem rather
>>> to believe that he may not know it to be so; and
that I do not believe he does: and yet this belief
in us both must appear to be very gross.
But suppose you desire to go out of town for the
air, this sultry weather, and insist upon it? You
may plead your health for so doing. He dare not
>>> resist such a plea. Your brother's foolish scheme,
I am told, is certainly given up; so you need not
be afraid on that account.
If you do not fly the house upon reading of this,
or some way or other get out of it, I shall judge of
his power over you, by the little you will have over
either him or yourself.

>>> One of my informers has made such slight inquiries
concerning Mrs. Fretchville. Did he ever name
to you the street or square she lived in?—I don't
>>> remember that you, in any of your's, mentioned the
place of her abode to me. Strange, very strange,
this, I think! No such person or house can be
found, near any of the new streets or squares, where
the lights I had from your letters led me to imagine
>>> her house might be.—Ask him what street the
house is in, if he has not told you; and let me
>>> know. If he make a difficulty of that circumstance,
it will amount to a detection.—And yet, I think,
you will have enough without this.
I shall send this long letter by Collins, who
changes his day to oblige me; and that he may try
(now I know where you are) to get it into your
own hands. If he cannot, he will leave it at
Wilson's. As none of our letters by that convey-
ance have miscarried when you have been in more
apparently disagreeable situations than you are in at
present. I hope that this will go safe, if Collins
should be obliged to leave it there.

>>> I wrote a short letter to you in my first agitations.
It contained not above twenty lines, all full of fright,
alarm, and execration. But being afraid that my
vehemence would too much affect you, I thought it
better to wait a little, as well for the reasons already
hinted at, as to be able to give you as many par-
ticulars as I could, and my thoughts upon all. And
as they have offered, or may offer, you will be
sufficiently armed to resist all his machinations, be
what they will.