LETTER LX
MR. LOVELACE, TO JOHN BELFORD, ESQ.[IN ANSWER TO LETTER LVII.]UXBRIDGE, TUESDAY MORN, BETWEEN 4 AND 5.
And can it be, that this admirable creature will so soon leave thiscursed world! For cursed I shall think it, and more cursed myself, whenshe is gone. O, Jack! thou who canst sit so cool, and, like Addison'sAngel, direct, and even enjoy, the storm, that tears up my happiness bythe roots; blame me not for my impatience, however unreasonable! If thouknowest, that already I feel the torments of the damned, in the remorsethat wrings my heart, on looking back upon my past actions by her, thouwouldst not be the devil thou art, to halloo on a worrying conscience,which, without my merciless aggravations, is altogether intolerable.
I know not what to write, nor what I would write. When the company thatused to delight me is as uneasy to me as my reflections are painful, andI can neither help nor divert myself, must not every servant about mepartake in a perturbation so sincere!
Shall I give thee a faint picture of the horrible uneasiness with whichmy mind struggles? And faint indeed it must be; for nothing butoutrageous madness can exceed it; and that only in the apprehension ofothers; since, as to the sufferer, it is certain, that actual distraction(take it out of its lucid intervals) must be an infinitely more happystate than the state of suspense and anxiety, which often brings it on.
Forbidden to attend the dear creature, yet longing to see her, I wouldgive the world to be admitted once more to her beloved presence. I ridetowards London three or four times a day, resolving pro and con, twentytimes in two or three miles; and at last ride back; and, in view ofUxbridge, loathing even the kind friend, and hospitable house, turn myhorse's head again towards the town, and resolve to gratify my humour,let her take it as she will; but, at the very entrance of it, afterinfinite canvassings, once more alter my mind, dreading to offend andshock her, lest, by that means, I should curtail a life so precious.
Yesterday, in particular, to give you an idea of the strength of thatimpatience, which I cannot avoid suffering to break out upon my servants,I had no sooner dispatched Will., than I took horse to meet him on hisreturn.
In order to give him time, I loitered about on the road, riding up thislane to the one highway, down that to the other, just as my horsepointed; all the way cursing my very being; and though so lately lookingdown upon all the world, wishing to change conditions with the poorestbeggar that cried to me for charity as I rode by him--and throwing himmoney, in hopes to obtain by his prayers the blessing my heart pantsafter.
After I had sauntered about an hour or two, (which seemed three or fourtedious ones,) fearing I had slipt the fellow, I inquired at everyturnpike, whether a servant in such a livery had not passed through inhis return from London, on a full gallop; for woe had been to the dog,had I met him on a sluggish trot! And lest I should miss him at one endof Kensingtohn, as he might take either the Acton or Hammersmith road; orat the other, as he might come through the Park, or not; how many scoretimes did I ride backwards and forwards from the Palace to the Gore,making myself the subject of observation to all passengers whether onhorseback or on foot; who, no doubt, wondered to see a well-dressed andwell-mounted man, sometimes ambling, sometimes prancing, (as the beasthad more fire than his master) backwards and forwards in so short acompass!
Yet all this time, though longing to espy the fellow, did I dread to meethim, lest he should be charged with fatal tidings.
When at distance I saw any man galloping towards me, myresemblance-forming fancy immediately made it to be him; and then myheart choked me. But when the person's nearer approach undeceived me,how did I curse the varlet's delay, and thee, by turns! And how readywas I to draw my pistol at the stranger, for having the impudence togallop; which none but my messenger, I thought, had either right orreason to do! For all the business of the world, I am ready to imagine,should stand still on an occasion so melancholy and so interesting to me.Nay, for this week past, I could cut the throat of any man or woman I seelaugh, while I am in such dejection of mind.
I am now convinced that the wretches who fly from a heavy scene, labourunder ten times more distress in the intermediate suspense andapprehension, than they could have, were they present at it, and to seeand know the worst: so capable is fancy or imagination, the moreimmediate offspring of the soul, to outgo fact, let the subject be eitherjoyous or grievous.
And hence, as I conceive, it is, that all pleasures are greater in theexpectation, or in the reflection, than in fruition; as all pains, whichpress heavy upon both parts of that unequal union by which frailmortality holds its precarious tenure, are ever most acute in the time ofsuffering: for how easy sit upon the reflection the heaviest misfortunes,when surmounted!--But most easy, I confess, those in which body has moreconcern than soul. This, however, is a point of philosophy I haveneither time nor head just now to weigh: so take it as it falls from amadman's pen.
Woe be to either of the wretches who shall bring me the fatal news thatshe is no more! For it is but too likely that a shriek-owl so hated willnever hoot or scream again; unless the shock, that will probably disordermy whole frame on so sad an occasion, (by unsteadying my hand,) shalldivert my aim from his head, heart, or bowels, if it turn not against myown.
But, surely, she will not, she cannot yet die! Such a matchlessexcellence,
----whose mind Contains a world, and seems for all things fram'd,
could not be lent to be so soon demanded back again!
But may it not be, that thou, Belford, art in a plot with the dearcreature, (who will not let me attend her to convince myself,) in orderto work up my soul to the deepest remorse; and that, when she isconvinced of the sincerity of my penitence, and when my mind is made suchwax, as to be fit to take what impression she pleases to give it, shewill then raise me up with the joyful tidings of her returning health andacceptance of me!
What would I give to have it so! And when the happiness of hundreds, aswell as the peace and reconciliation of several eminent families, dependupon her restoration and happiness, why should it not be so?
But let me presume it will. Let me indulge my former hope, howeverimprobable--I will; and enjoy it too. And let me tell thee how ecstaticmy delight would be on the unravelling of such a plot as this!
Do, dear Belford, let it be so!--And, O, my dearest, and ever-dearClarissa, keep me no loner in this cruel suspense; in which I suffer athousand times more than ever I made thee suffer. Nor fear thou that Iwill resent, or recede, on an ecclaircissement so desirable; for I willadore thee for ever, and without reproaching thee for the pangs thou hasttortured me with, confess thee as much my superior in virtue and honour!
But once more, should the worst happen--say not what that worst is--and Iam gone from this hated island--gone for ever--and may eternal--but I amcrazed already--and will therefore conclude myself,
Thine more than my own,(and no great compliment neither)R.L.
Clarissa Harlowe; or the history of a young lady — Volume 8 Page 61