You incense, alarm, and terrify me, at the same time.—Hasten, my dearest friend, hasten to me what further intelligence you can gather about this vilest of men.
But never talk of innocence, of simplicity, and this unhappy girl, together! Must she not know, that such a man as that, dignified in his very aspect; and no disguise able to conceal his being of condition; must mean too much, when he places her at the upper end of his table, and calls her by such tender names? Would a girl, modest as simple, above seventeen, be set a-singing at the pleasure of such a man as that? a stranger, and professedly in disguise!—Would her father and grandmother, if honest people, and careful of their simple girl, permit such freedoms?
Keep his friend at a distance from her!—To be sure his designs are villainous, if they have not been already effected.
Warn, my dear, if not too late, the unthinking father, of his child's danger. There cannot be a father in the world, who would sell his child's virtue. Nor mother!—The poor thing!
I long to hear the result of your intelligence. You shall see the simple creature, you tell me.—Let me know what sort of a girl she is.—A sweet pretty girl! you say. A sweet pretty girl, my dear!—They are sweet pretty words from your pen. But are they yours or his of her?—If she be so simple, if she have ease and nature in her manner, in her speech, and warbles prettily her wild notes, why, such a girl as that must engage such a profligate wretch, (as now indeed I doubt this man is,) accustomed, perhaps, to town women, and their confident ways.—Must deeply and for a long season engage him: since perhaps when her innocence is departed, she will endeavour by art to supply the loss of the natural charms which now engage him.
Fine hopes of such a wretch's reformation! I would not, my dear, for the world, have any thing to say—but I need not make resolutions. I have not opened, nor will I open, his letter.—A sycophant creature!—With his hoarsenesses—got perhaps by a midnight revel, singing to his wild note singer, and only increased in the coppice!
To be already on a footing!—In his esteem, I mean: for myself, I despise him. I hate myself almost for writing so much about him, and of such a simpleton as this sweet pretty girl as you call her: but no one can be either sweet or pretty, that is not modest, that is not virtuous.
And now, my dear, I will tell you how I came to put you upon this inquiry.
This vile Joseph Leman had given a hint to Betty, and she to me, as if Lovelace would be found out to be a very bad man, at a place where he had been lately seen in disguise. But he would see further, he said, before he told her more; and she promised secrecy, in hope to get at further intelligence. I thought it could be no harm, to get you to inform yourself, and me, of what could be gathered.* And now I see, his enemies are but too well warranted in their reports of him: and, if the ruin of this poor young creature be his aim, and if he had not known her but for his visits to Harlowe-place, I shall have reason to be doubly concerned for her; and doubly incensed against so vile a man.
* It will be seen in Vol.I.Letter XXXIV. that Mr. Lovelace's
motive for sparing his Rosebud was twofold. First, Because
his pride was gratified by the grandmother's desiring him to
spare her grand-daughter. Many a pretty rogue, say he, had I
spared, whom I did not spare, had my power been
acknowledged, and my mercy in time implored. But the
debellare superbos should be my motto, were I to have a new
one.
His other motive will be explained in the following passage,
in the same. I never was so honest, for so long together,
says he, since my matriculation. It behoves me so to be.
Some way or other my recess [at the little inn] may be found
out, and it then will be thought that my Rosebud has
attracted me. A report in my favour, from simplicities so
amiable, may establish me, &c.
Accordingly, as the reader will hereafter see, Mr. Lovelace
finds by the effects, his expectations from the contrivance
he set on foot by means of his agent Joseph Leman (who
plays, as above, upon Betty Barnes) fully answered, though
he could not know what passed on the occasion between the
two ladies.
This explanation is the more necessary to be given, as
several of our readers (through want of due attention) have
attributed to Mr. Lovelace, on his behaviour to his Rosebud,
a greater merit than was due to him; and moreover imagined,
that it was improbable, that a man, who was capable of
acting so generously (as they supposed) in this instance,
should be guilty of any atrocious vileness. Not considering,
that love, pride, and revenge as he owns in Vol.I.Letter
XXXI. were ingredients of equal force in his composition;
and that resistance was a stimulus to him.
I think I hate him worse than I do Solmes himself.
But I will not add one more word about hi,; and after I have told you, that I wish to know, as soon as possible what further occurs from your inquiry. I have a letter from him; but shall not open it till I do: and then, if it come out as I dare say it will, I will directly put the letter unopened into the place I took it from, and never trouble myself more about him. Adieu, my dearest friend.
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