What is between hooks [ } thou mayest suppose, Jack, I sunk upon the women, in the account I gave them of the contents of this letter. ↩
I gave Mrs. Moore and Miss Rawlins room to think this reproach just, Jack. ↩
See Letter 229. ↩
See Letter 233. ↩
See Letter 229, where Miss Howe says, Alas! my dear, I know you loved him!
↩
See Letter 115. ↩
See Letter 229. ↩
See Letter 229. ↩
See Letter 229. ↩
See Letter 229. ↩
See Letter 229. ↩
See Letter 229. ↩
See Letter 229. ↩
See Letter 229. ↩
See Letter 229. ↩
See Letter 229. ↩
See Letter 220. ↩
See Letter 229. ↩
See Letter 229. ↩
See Letter 229. ↩
See Letter 229. ↩
See Letter 126. ↩
See Letter 127 and Letter 127. ↩
See Letter 139. ↩
See Letter 238. ↩
See Letter 233. ↩
See Letter 110. ↩
See Letter 233. ↩
The nature of the Bath stone, in particular. ↩
See Letter 223. ↩
The lady innocently means Mr. Lovelace’s forged one. See Letter 239. ↩
See Letters 9, 14 and 19 for what she herself says on that steadiness which Mr. Lovelace, though a deserved sufferer by it, cannot help admiring. ↩
See Letter 248. ↩
See Letter 229. ↩
See Letter 230. ↩
For the account of Mrs. Townsend, etc. see Letter 196. ↩
He alludes here to the story of a pope, who, (once a poor fisherman), through every preferment he rose to, even to that of the cardinalate, hung up in view of all his guests his net, as a token of humility. But, when he arrived at the pontificate, he took it down, saying, that there was no need of the net, when he had caught the fish. ↩
Miss Howe, in Letter 111 says, That she was always more afraid of Clarissa than of her mother; and, in Letter 111. That she fears her almost as much as she loves her; and in many other places, in her letters, verifies this observation of Lovelace. ↩
See Letter 185. ↩
See Letter 248. ↩
See Letter 230. ↩
Ecclesiasticus 26: The whoredom of a woman may be known in her haughty looks and eyelids. Watch over an impudent eye, and marvel not if it trespass against thee. ↩
See Letter 110. ↩
Her cousin Morden’s words to her in his letter from Florence. See Letter 173. ↩
See Letter 254. ↩
See Letter 230. ↩
She tried to do this; but was prevented by the fellow’s pretending to put his ankle out, by a slip downstairs—A trick, says his contriving master, in his omitted relation, I had taught him, on a like occasion, at Amiens. ↩
See Letter 229. ↩
See Letter 251. ↩
The Lady, in her minutes, says, “I fear Dorcas is a false one. May I not be able to prevail upon him to leave me at my liberty? Better to try than to trust to her. If I cannot prevail, but must meet him and my uncle, I hope I shall have fortitude enough to renounce him then. But I would fain avoid qualifying with the wretch, or to give him an expectation which I intend not to answer. If I am mistress of my own resolutions, my uncle himself shall not prevail with me to bind my soul in covenant with so vile a man.” ↩
The Lady, in her minutes, owns the difficulty she lay under to keep her temper in this conference. “But when I found,” says she, “that all my entreaties were ineffectual, and that he was resolved to detain me, I could no longer withhold my impatience.” ↩
The Lady mentions, in her memorandum-book, that she had no other way, as is apprehended, to save herself from instant dishonour, but by making this concession. Her only hope, now, she says, if she cannot escape by Dorcas’s connivance, (whom, nevertheless she suspects), is to find a way to engage the protection of her uncle, and even of the civil magistrate, on Thursday next, if necessary. “He shall see,” says she, “tame and timid as he thought me, what I dare to do, to avoid so hated a compulsion, and a man capable of a baseness so premeditatedly vile and inhuman.” ↩
See Letter 263. ↩
The lady
