Clarissa, Volume 6 | Page 5

yet is only held up. The blow is not struck. Miss Howe's next letter may blow thee up. In policy thou shouldest be now at least honest. Thou canst not live without her. Thou wouldest rather marry her than lose her absolutely. Thou mayest undoubtedly prevail upon her, inflexible as she seems to be, for marriage. But if now she finds thee a villain, thou mayest never more engage her attention, and she perhaps will refuse and abhor thee.
'Yet already have I not gone too far? Like a repentant thief, afraid of his gang, and obliged to go on, in fear of hanging till he comes to be hanged, I am afraid of the gang of my cursed contrivances.
'As I hope to live, I am sorry, (at the present writing,) that I have been such a foolish plotter, as to put it, as I fear I have done, out of my own power to be honest. I hate compulsion in all forms; and cannot bear, even to be compelled to be the wretch my choice has made me! So now, Belford, as thou hast said, I am a machine at last, and no free agent.
'Upon my soul, Jack, it is a very foolish thing for a man of spirit to have brought himself to such a height of iniquity, that he must proceed, and cannot help himself, and yet to be next to certain, that this very victory will undo him.
'Why was such a woman as this thrown into my way, whose very fall will be her glory, and, perhaps, not only my shame but my destruction?
'What a happiness must that man know, who moves regularly to some laudable end, and has nothing to reproach himself with in his progress to do it! When, by honest means, he attains his end, how great and unmixed must be his enjoyments! What a happy man, in this particular case, had I been, had it been given me to be only what I wished to appear to be!'
Thus far had my conscience written with my pen; and see what a recreant she had made of me!--I seized her by the throat--There!--There, said I, thou vile impertinent!--take that, and that!--How often have I gave thee warning!--and now, I hope, thou intruding varletess, have I done thy business!
Puling and low-voiced, rearing up thy detested head, in vain implorest thou my mercy, who, in thy day hast showed me so little!--Take that, for a rising blow!--And now will thy pain, and my pain for thee, soon be over. Lie there!--Welter on!--Had I not given thee thy death's wound, thou wouldest have robbed me of all my joys. Thou couldest not have mended me, 'tis plain. Thou couldest only have thrown me into despair. Didst thou not see, that I had gone too far to recede?--Welter on, once more I bid thee!--Gasp on!--That thy last gasp, surely!--How hard diest thou!
ADIEU!--Unhappy man! ADIEU!
'Tis kind in thee, however, to bid me, Adieu!
Adieu, Adieu, Adieu, to thee, O thou inflexible, and, till now, unconquerable bosom intruder!--Adieu to thee for ever!

LETTER II
MR. LOVELACE, TO JOHN BELFORD, ESQ. SUNDAY MORN. (JUNE 11). FOUR O'CLOCK.
A few words to the verbal information thou sentest me last night concerning thy poor old man; and then I rise from my seat, shake myself, refresh, new-dress, and so to my charmer, whom, notwithstanding her reserves, I hope to prevail upon to walk out with me on the Heath this warm and fine morning.
The birds must have awakened her before now. They are in full song. She always gloried in accustoming herself to behold the sun rise--one of God's natural wonders, as once she called it.
Her window salutes the east. The valleys must be gilded by his rays, by the time I am with her; for already have they made the up-lands smile, and the face of nature cheerful.
How unsuitable will thou find this gay preface to a subject so gloomy as that I am now turning to!
I am glad to hear thy tedious expectations are at last answered.
Thy servant tells me that thou are plaguily grieved at the old fellow's departure.
I can't say, but thou mayest look as if thou wert; harassed as thou hast been for a number of days and nights with a close attendance upon a dying man, beholding his drawing-on hour--pretending, for decency's sake, to whine over his excruciating pangs; to be in the way to answer a thousand impertinent inquiries after the health of a man thou wishedest to die--to pray by him--for so once thou wrotest to me!--To read by him--to be forced to join in consultation with a crew of solemn and parading doctors, and their officious zanies, the apothecaries, joined with the butcherly tribe of scarficators; all combined to carry on the physical farce, and to cut out thongs