For can I be, at worst, (avert that worst,
O Thou Supreme, who only canst avert it!)
So much a wretch, so very far abandon’d,
But that I must, even in the horrid’s gloom,
Reap intervenient joy, at least some respite,
From pain and anguish, in her bliss.—
If I find myself thus miserable abroad, I will soon return to England, and follow your example, I think—turn hermit, or some plaguey thing or other, and see what a constant course of penitence and mortification will do for me. There is no living at this rate—d⸺n me if there be!
If any mishap should befall me, you’ll have the particulars of it from De la Tour. He indeed knows but little English; but every modern tongue is yours. He is a trusty and ingenious fellow; and, if anything happen, will have some other papers, which I have already sealed up, for you to transmit to Lord M. And since thou art so expert and so ready at executorships, pr’ythee, Belford, accept of the office for me, as well as for my Clarissa—Clarissa Lovelace let me call her.
By all that’s good, I am bewitched to her memory. Her very name, with mine joined to it, ravishes my soul, and is more delightful to me than the sweetest music.
Had I carried her (I must still recriminate) to any other place than that accursed woman’s—for the potion was her invention and mixture; and all the persisted-in violence was at her instigation, and at that of her wretched daughters, who have now amply revenged upon me their own ruin, which they lay at my door—
But this looks so like the confession of a thief at the gallows, that possibly thou wilt be apt to think I am intimidated in prospect of the approaching interview. But far otherwise. On the contrary, most cheerfully do I go to meet the Colonel; and I would tear my heart out of my breast with my own hands, were it capable of fear or concern on that account.
Thus much only I know, that if I should kill him, (which I will not do, if I can help it), I shall be far from being easy in my mind; that shall I never more be. But as the meeting is evidently of his own seeking, against an option fairly given to the contrary, and I cannot avoid it, I’ll think of that hereafter. It is but repenting and mortifying for all at once; for I am sure of victory, as I am that I now live, let him be ever so skillful a swordsman; since, besides that I am no unfleshed novice, this is a sport that, when provoked to it, I love as well as my food. And, moreover, I shall be as calm and undisturbed as the bishop at his prayers; while he, as is evident by his letter, must be actuated by revenge and passion.
Doubt not, therefore, Jack, that I shall give a good account of this affair. Meantime, I remain,
Letter 536
Mr. Lovelace, to John Belford, Esq.
Trent, /
Tomorrow is to be the day, that will, in all probability, send either one or two ghosts to attend the manes of my Clarissa.
I arrived here yesterday; and inquiring for an English gentleman of the name of Morden, soon found out the Colonel’s lodgings. He had been in town two days; and left his name at every probable place.
He was gone to ride out; and I left my name, and where to be found; and in the evening he made me a visit.
He was plaguey gloomy. That was not I. But yet he told me that I had acted like a man of true spirit in my first letter; and with honour, in giving him so readily this meeting. He wished I had in other respects; and then we might have seen each other upon better terms than now we did.
I said there was no recalling what was passed; and that I wished some things had not been done, as well as he.
To recriminate now, he said, would be as exasperating as unavailable. And as I had so cheerfully given him this opportunity, words should give place to business.—Your choice, Mr. Lovelace, of time, of place, of weapon, shall be my choice.
The two latter be yours, Mr. Morden. The time tomorrow, or next day, as you please.
Next day, then, Mr. Lovelace; and we’ll ride out tomorrow, to fix the place.
Agreed, Sir.
Well: now, Mr. Lovelace, do you choose the weapon.
I said I believed we might be upon an equal footing with the single rapier; but, if he thought otherwise, I had no objection to a pistol.
I will only say, replied he, that the chances may be more equal by the sword, because we can neither of us be to seek in that; and you would stand, says he, a worse chance, as I apprehend, with a pistol; and yet I have brought two, that you may take your choice of either; for, added he, I have never missed a mark at pistol-distance, since I knew how to hold a pistol.
I told him, that he spoke like himself; that I was expert enough that way, to embrace it, if he chose it; though not so sure of my mark as he pretended to be. Yet the devil’s in it, Colonel, if I, who have slit a bullet in two upon a knife’s edge, hit not my man. So I have no objection to a pistol, if it be your choice. No man, I’ll venture to say, has a steadier hand or eye than I have.
They may both be of use to you,
