Read Clarissa Harlowe, Volume 7: Or the History of a Young Lady Online
Authors: Samuel Richardson
Tags: #Literary, #Language Arts & Disciplines, #General, #Psychological, #Fiction
My sister joins her thanks with mine to your good mother and self, for the favours you heaped upon us last Thursday. We beseech your continued interest as to the subject of our visit. It shall be all our studies to oblige and recompense the dear lady to the utmost of our power, and for what she has suffered from the unhappy man.
We are, dear Madam,
Your obliged and faithful servants,
CHARLOTTE | MONTAGUE.
MARTHA |
***
We join in the above request of Miss Charlotte and Miss Patty Montague, for your favour and interest; being convinced that the accident was an accident, and no plot or contrivance of a wretch too full of them. We are, Madam,
Your most obedient humble servants,
***
After what is written above, by names and characters of unquestionable honour, I might have been excused signing a name almost as hateful to myself, as I KNOW it is to you. But the above will have it so. Since, therefore, I must write, it shall be the truth; which is, that if I may be once more admitted to pay my duty to the most deserving and most injured of her sex, I will be content to do it with a halter about my neck; and, attended by a parson on my right hand, and the hangman on my left, be doomed, at her will, either to the church or the gallows.
Your most humble servant,
ROBERT LOVELACE.
What a cursed piece of work hast thou made of it, with the most excellent of women! Thou mayest be in earnest, or in jest, as thou wilt; but the poor lady will not be long either thy sport, or the sport of fortune!
I will give thee an account of a scene that wants but her affecting pen to represent it justly; and it would wring all the black blood out of thy callous heart.
Thou only, who art the author of her calamities, shouldst have attended her in her prison. I am unequal to such a task: nor know I any other man but would.
This last act, however unintended by thee, yet a consequence of thy general orders, and too likely to be thought agreeable to thee, by those who know thy other villanies by her, has finished thy barbarous work. And I advise thee to trumpet forth every where, how much in earnest thou art to marry her, whether true or not.
Thou mayest safely do it. She will not live to put thee to the trial; and it will a little palliate for thy enormous usage of her, and be a mean to make mankind, who know not what I know of the matter, herd a little longer with thee, and forbear to hunt thee to thy fellow-savages in the Lybian wilds and desarts.
Your messenger found me at Edgware expecting to dinner with me several friends, whom I had invited three days before. I sent apologies to them, as in a case of life and death; and speeded to town to the woman's: for how knew I but shocking attempts might be made upon her by the cursed wretches: perhaps by your connivance, in order to mortify her into your measures?
Little knows the public what villanies are committed by vile wretches, in these abominable houses upon innocent creatures drawn into their snares.
Finding the lady not there, I posted away to the officer's, although Sally told me that she had but just come from thence; and that she had refused to see her, or (as she sent down word) any body else; being resolved to have the remainder of that Sunday to herself, as it might, perhaps, be the last she should ever see.
I had the same thing told me, when I got thither.
I sent up to let her know, that I came with a commission to set her at liberty. I was afraid of sending up the name of a man known to be your friend. She absolutely refused to see any man, however, for that day, or to answer further to any thing said from me.
Having therefore informed myself of all that the officer, and his wife, and servant, could acquaint me with, as well in relation to the horrid arrest, as to her behaviour, and the women's to her; and her ill state of health; I went back to Sinclair's, as I will still call her, and heard the three women's story. From all which I am enabled to give you the following shocking particulars: which may serve till I can see the unhappy lady herself to-morrow, if then I gain admittance to her. You will find that I have been very minute in my inquiries.
Your villain it was that set the poor lady, and had the impudence to appear, and abet the sheriff's officers in the cursed transaction. He thought, no doubt, that he was doing the most acceptable service to his blessed master. They had got a chair; the head ready up, as soon as service was over. And as she came out of the church, at the door fronting Bedford-street, the officers, stepping up to her, whispered that they had an action against her.
She was terrified, trembled, and turned pale.
Action, said she! What is that!----I have committed no bad action!---- Lord bless me! men, what mean you?
That you are our prisoner, Madam.
Prisoner, Sirs!--What--How--Why--What have I done?
You must go with us. Be pleased, Madam, to step into this chair.
With you!--With men! Must go with men!--I am not used to go with strange men!----Indeed you must excuse me!
We can't excuse you. We are sheriff's officers, We have a writ against you. You must go with us, and you shall know at whose suit.
Suit! said the charming innocent; I don't know what you mean. Pray, men, don't lay hands upon me; (they offering to put her into the chair.) I am not used to be thus treated--I have done nothing to deserve it.
She then spied thy villain--O thou wretch, said she, where is thy vile master?--Am I again to be his prisoner? Help, good people!
A crowd had begun to gather.
My master is in the country, Madam, many miles off. If you please to go with these men, they will treat you civilly.
The people were most of them struck with compassion. A fine young creature!--A thousand pities cried some. While some few threw out vile and shocking reflections! But a gentleman interposed, and demanded to see the fellow's authority.
They showed it. Is your name Clarissa Harlowe, Madam? said he.
Yes, yes, indeed, ready to sink, my name was Clarissa Harlowe:--but it is now Wretchedness!----Lord be merciful to me, what is to come next?
You must go with these men, Madam, said the gentleman: they have
authority for what they do.
He pitied her, and retired.
Indeed you must, said one chairman.
Indeed you must, said the other.
Can nobody, joined in another gentleman, be applied to, who will see that so fine a creature is not ill used?
Thy villain answered, orders were given particularly for that. She had rich relations. She need but ask and have. She would only be carried to the officer's house till matters could be made up. The people she had lodged with loved her:--but she had left her lodgings privately.
Oh! had she those tricks already? cried one or two.
She heard not this--but said--Well, if I must go, I must--I cannot resist --but I will not be carried to the woman's! I will rather die at your feet, than be carried to the woman's.
You won't be carried there, Madam, cried thy fellow.
Only to my house, Madam, said one of the officers.
Where is that?
In High-Holborn, Madam.
I know not where High-Holborn is: but any where, except to the woman's. ----But am I to go with men only?
Looking about her, and seeing the three passages, to wit, that leading to Henrietta-street, that to King-street, and the fore-right one, to Bedford-street, crowded, she started--Any where--any where, said she, but to the woman's! And stepping into the chair, threw herself on the seat, in the utmost distress and confusion--Carry me, carry me out of sight-- cover me--cover me up--for ever--were her words.
Thy villain drew the curtain: she had not power: and they went away with her through a vast crowd of people.
Here I must rest. I can write no more at present.
Only, Lovelace, remember, all this was to a Clarissa.
***
The unhappy lady fainted away when she was taken out of the chair at the
officer's house.
Several people followed the chair to the very house, which is in a wretched court. Sally was there; and satisfied some of the inquirers, that the young gentlewoman would be exceedingly well used: and they soon dispersed.
Dorcas was also there; but came not in her sight. Sally, as a favour, offered to carry her to her former lodgings: but she declared they should carry her thither a corpse, if they did.
Very gentle usage the women boast of: so would a vulture, could it speak, with the entrails of its prey upon its rapacious talons. Of this you'll judge from what I have to recite.
She asked, what was meant by this usage of her? People told me, said she, that I must go with the men: that they had authority to take me: so I submitted. But now, what is to be the end of this disgraceful violence?
The end, said the vile Sally Martin, is, for honest people to come at
their own.
Bless me! have I taken away any thing that belongs to those who have obtained the power over me?--I have left very valuable things behind me; but have taken away that is not my own.
And who do you think, Miss Harlowe; for I understand, said the cursed creature, you are not married; who do you think is to pay for your board and your lodgings! such handsome lodgings! for so long a time as you were at Mrs. Sinclair's?
Lord have mercy upon me!--Miss Martin, (I think you are Miss Martin!)-- And is this the cause of such a disgraceful insult upon me in the open streets?
And cause enough, Miss Harlowe! (fond of gratifying her jealous revenge, by calling her Miss,)--One hundred and fifty guineas, or pounds, is no small sum to lose--and by a young creature who would have bilked her lodgings.
You amaze me, Miss Martin!--What language do you talk in?--Bilk my
lodgings?--What is that?
She stood astonished and silent for a few moments.
But recovering herself, and turning from her to the window, she wrung her hands [the cursed Sally showed me how!] and lifting them up--Now, Lovelace: now indeed do I think I ought to forgive thee!--But who shall forgive Clarissa Harlowe!----O my sister!--O my brother!--Tender mercies were your cruelties to this!
After a pause, her handkerchief drying up her falling tears, she turned to Sally: Now, have I noting to do but acquiesce--only let me say, that if this aunt of your's, this Mrs. Sinclair, or this man, this Mr. Lovelace, come near me; or if I am carried to the horrid house; (for that, I suppose, is the design of this new outrage;) God be merciful to the poor Clarissa Harlowe!----Look to the consequence!----Look, I charge you, to the consequence!
The vile wretch told her, it was not designed to carry her any where against her will: but, if it were, they should take care not to be frighted again by a penknife.
She cast up her eyes to Heaven, and was silent--and went to the farthest corner of the room, and, sitting down, threw her handkerchief over her face.
Sally asked her several questions; but not answering her, she told her, she would wait upon her by-and-by, when she had found her speech.
She ordered the people to press her to eat and drink. She must be fasting--nothing but her prayers and tears, poor thing!--were the merciless devil's words, as she owned to me.--Dost think I did not curse her?
She went away; and, after her own dinner, returned.
The unhappy lady, by this devil's account of her, then seemed either mortified into meekness, or to have made a resolution not to be provoked by the insults of this cursed creature.
Sally inquired, in her presence, whether she had eat or drank any thing; and being told by the woman, that she could not prevail upon her to taste a morsel, or drink a drop, she said, this is wrong, Miss Harlowe! Very wrong!--Your religion, I think, should teach you, that starving yourself is self-murder.
She answered not.
The wretch owned she was resolved to make her speak.
She asked if Mabell should attend her, till it were seen what her friends would do for her in discharge of the debt? Mabell, said she, had not yet earned the clothes you were so good as to give her.
Am I not worthy an answer, Miss Harlowe?
I would answer you (said the sweet sufferer, without any emotion) if I
knew how.
I have ordered pen, ink, and paper, to be brought you, Miss Harlowe. There they are. I know you love writing. You may write to whom you please. Your friend, Miss Howe, will expect to hear from you.
I have no friend, said she, I deserve none.
Rowland, for that's the officer's name, told her, she had friends enow to pay the debt, if she would write.
She would trouble nobody; she had no friends; was all they could get from her, while Sally staid: but yet spoken with a patience of spirit, as if she enjoyed her griefs.
The insolent creature went away, ordering them, in the lady's hearing, to be very civil to her, and to let her want for nothing. Now had she, she owned, the triumph of her heart over this haughty beauty, who kept them all at such a distance in their own house!
What thinkest thou, Lovelace, of this!--This wretch's triumph was over a
Clarissa!
About six in the evening, Rowland's wife pressed her to drink tea. She said, she had rather have a glass of water; for her tongue was ready to cleave to the roof of her mouth.
The woman brought her a glass, and some bread and butter. She tried to taste the latter; but could not swallow it: but eagerly drank the water; lifting up her eyes in thankfulness for that!!!
The divine Clarissa, Lovelace,--reduced to rejoice for a cup of cold
water!--By whom reduced?
About nine o'clock she asked if any body were to be her bedfellow.
Their maid, if she pleased; or, as she was so weak and ill, the girl should sit up with her, if she chose she should.
She chose to be alone both night and day, she said. But might she not be trusted with the key of the room where she was to lie down; for she should not put off her clothes!
That, they told her, could not be.