Clarissa Harlowe Samuel Richardson (most important books to read TXT) 📖
- Author: Samuel Richardson
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Yet, a foolish little rogue! to forbid me to think of marriage till I am a reformed man! Till the implacables of her family change their natures, and become placable!
It is true, when she was for making those conditions, she did not think, that without any, she should be cheated out of herself; for so the dear soul, as I may tell thee in its place, phrases it.
How it swells my pride, to have been able to outwit such a vigilant charmer! I am taller by half a yard in my imagination than I was. I look down upon everybody now. Last night I was still more extravagant. I took off my hat, as I walked, to see if the lace were not scorched, supposing it had brushed down a star; and, before I put it on again, in mere wantonness and heart’s ease, I was for buffeting the moon.
In short, my whole soul is joy. When I go to bed I laugh myself asleep; and I awake either laughing or singing—yet nothing nearly in view, neither—For why?—I am not yet reformed enough!
I told thee at the time, if thou rememberest, how capable this restriction was of being turned upon the over-scrupulous dear creature, could I once get her out of her father’s house; and were I disposed to punish her for her family’s faults, and for the infinite trouble she herself had given me. Little thinks she, that I have kept an account of both: and that, when my heart is soft, and all her own, I can but turn to my memoranda, and harden myself at once.
O my charmer, look to it! Abate of thy haughty airs! Value not thyself upon thy sincerity, if thou art indifferent to me! I will not bear it now. Art thou not in my power!—Nor, if thou lovest me, think, that the female affectation of denying thy love, will avail thee now, with a heart so proud and so jealous as mine?—Remember, moreover, that all thy family sins are upon thy head—!
But ah! Jack, when I see my angel, when I am admitted to the presence of this radiant beauty, what will become of all this vapouring?
But, be my end what it may, I am obliged, by thy penetration, fair one, to proceed by the sap. Fair and softly. A wife at any time! Marriage will be always in my power.
When put to the university, the same course of initial studies will qualify the yonker for the one line or the other. The genius ought to point out the future lawyer, divine, or physician!—So the same cautious conduct, with such a vigilance, will do either for the wife, or for the no-wife. When I reform, I’ll marry. ’Tis time enough for the one, the lady must say—for the other, say I!
But how I ramble!—This is to be in such a situation, that I know not what to resolve upon.
I’ll tell thee my inclinings, as I proceed. The pro’s and the con’s I’ll tell thee: but being got too far from the track I set out in, I will close here. I may, however, write every day something, and send it as opportunity offers.
Regardless, nevertheless, I shall be in all I write, of connection, accuracy, or of anything but of my own imperial will and pleasure.
Letter 100 Miss Howe, to Miss Clarissa HarloweWednesday Night, April 12
I have your narrative, my dear. You are the same noble creature you ever were. Above disguise, above art, above attempting to extenuate a failing.
The only family in the world, yours, surely, that could have driven such a daughter upon such extremities.
But you must not be so very much too good for them, and for the case.
You lay the blame so properly and so unsparingly upon your meeting him, that nothing can be added to that subject by your worst enemies, were they to see what you have written.
I am not surprised, now I have read your narrative, that so bold and so contriving a man—I am forced to break off—
You stood it out much better and longer—Here again comes my bustling, jealous mother!
Don’t be angry at yourself. Did you not do for the best at the time? As to your first fault, the answering his letters; it was always incumbent upon you to assume the guardianship of such a family, when the bravo of it had run riot, as he did, and brought himself into danger.
Except your mother, who has no will of her own, have any of them common sense?
Forgive me, my dear—Here is that stupid uncle Antony of yours. A pragmatical, conceited positive.—He came yesterday, in a fearful pucker, and puffed, and blowed, and stumped about our hall and parlour, while his message was carried up.
My mother was dressing. These widows are as starched as the old bachelors. She would not see him in a deshabille for the world—What can she mean by it?
His errand was to set her against you, and to show her their determined rage on your going away. The issue proved too evidently that this was the principal end of his visit.
The odd creature desired to speak with her alone. I am not used to such exceptions whenever any visits are made to my mother.
When she was primmed out, down she came to him. They locked themselves in. The two positive heads were put together—close together I suppose; for I listened, but could hear nothing distinctly, though they both seemed full of their subject.
I had a good mind, once or twice, to have made them open the door. Could I have been sure of keeping but tolerably my temper, I would have demanded admittance. But I was afraid, if I had obtained it, that I should have forgot it was my mother’s house, and
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