Volume IX Part 9 (1/2)

I will take her papers. And, as no one can do her memory justice equal to myself, and I will not spare myself, who can better show the world what she was, and what a villain he that could use her ill? And the world shall also see what implacable and unworthy parents she had.

All shall be set forth in words at length. No mincing of the matter.

Names undisguised as well as facts. For, as I shall make the worst figure in it myself, and have a right to treat myself as n.o.body else shall, who shall controul me? who dare call me to account?

Let me know, if the d----d mother be yet the subject of the devil's own vengeance--if the old wretch be dead or alive? Some exemplary mischief I must yet do. My revenge shall sweep away that devil, and all my opposers of the cruel Harlowe family, from the face of the earth. Whole hecatombs ought to be offered up to the manes of my Clarissa Lovelace.

Although her will may in some respects cross mine, yet I expect to be observed. I will be the interpreter of her's.

Next to mine, her's shall be observed: for she is my wife, and shall be to all eternity.--I will never have another.

Adieu, Jack, I am preparing to be with you. I charge you, as you value my life or your own, do not oppose me in any thing relating to my Clarissa Lovelace.

My temper is entirely altered. I know not what it is to laugh, or smile, or be pleasant. I am grown choleric and impatient, and will not be controuled.

I write this in characters as I used to do, that n.o.body but you should know what I write. For never was any man plagued with impertinents as I am.

R. LOVELACE.

IN A SEPARATE PAPER ENCLOSED IN THE ABOVE.

Let me tell thee, in characters still, that I am in a dreadful way just now. My brain is all boiling like a cauldron over a fiery furnace. What a devil is the matter with me, I wonder! I never was so strange in my life.

In truth, Jack, I have been a most execrable villain. And when I consider all my actions to the angel of a woman, and in her the piety, the charity, the wit, the beauty, I have helped to destroy, and the good to the world I have thereby been a mean of frustrating, I can p.r.o.nounce d----n----n upon myself. How then can I expect mercy any where else?

I believe I shall have no patience with you when I see you. Your d----d stings and reflections have almost turned my brain.

But here Lord M. they tell me, is come!--D----n him, and those who sent for him!

I know not what I have written. But her dear heart and a lock of her hair I will have, let who will be the gainsayers! For is she not mine?

Whose else can she be? She has no father nor mother, no sister, no brother, no relations but me. And my beloved is mine, and I am her's-- and that's enough.--But Oh!--

She's out. The damp of death has quench'd her quite!

Those spicy doors, her lips, are shut, close lock'd, Which never gale of life shall open more!

And is it so?--Is it indeed so?--Good G.o.d!--Good G.o.d!--But they will not let me write on. I must go down to this officious Peer--Who the devil sent for him?

LETTER XXIV

MR. BELFORD, TO RICHARD MOWBRAY, ESQ.

SUNDAY, SEPT. 10. FOUR IN THE AFTERNOON.

I have your's, with our unhappy friend's enclosed. I am glad my Lord is with him. As I presume that his phrensy will be but of short continuance, I most earnestly wish, that on his recovery he could be prevailed upon to go abroad. Mr. Morden, who is inconsolable, has seen by the will, (as indeed he suspected before he read it,) that the case was more than a common seduction; and has dropt hints already, that he looks on himself, on that account, as freed from his promises made to the dying lady, which were, that he would not seek to avenge her death.

You must make the recovery of his health the motive for urging him on this head; for, if you hint at his own safety, he will not stir, but rather seek the Colonel.