paces, she stopt again; and, as wept again; as the servant, who if disliking her road, again seem- then slily passed her observed. ing to weep, directed her course "By this time she had reached back towards Hampstead." the houses. She looked up at

I am glad she wept so much, every one, as she passed; now because no heart bursts (be the and then breathing upon her occasion for the sorrow what it bared hand, and applying it to will) which has that kindly relief. her swelled eyes, to abate the redHence I hardly ever am moved at ness and dry the tears. At last, the sight of these pellucid fugi- seeing a bill up for letting lodg tives in a fine woman. How often, in the past twelve hours, have I wished, that I could cry most confoundedly!

ings, she walked backwards and forwards half a dozen times, as if unable to determine what to do. And then went further into the town; and there the fellow being "She then saw a coach and four spoken to by one of his familiars, driving towards her empty. She lost her for a few minutes: but he crossed the path she was in, as if soon saw her come out of a linento meet it; and seemed to intend drapery shop, attended by a to speak to the coachman, had he servant-maid, having, as he bestopt or spoken first. He as earn- lieved, bought some little matters, estly looked at her. Every one and, as it proved, got that maiddid so who passed her (so the man servant to go with her to the house who dogged her was the less she is now at*.

suspected) Happy rogue of a "The fellow, after waiting coachman, hadst thou known about an hour, and not seeing her whose notice thou didst engage, come out, returned, concluding and whom thou mightest have that she had taken lodgings obliged! It was the divine Cla- there."

rissa Harlowe at whom thou And here, supposing my nargazedst! mine own Clarissa rative of the dramatic kind, ends Harlowe!-But it was well for me act the first. And now begins, that thou wert as undistinguishing as the beasts thou drovest; otherwise what a wild-goose chace had I been led!

ACT. II.

SCENE, Hampstead Heath continued.
Enter my Rascal.

"The lady, as well as the coachman, in short, seemed to WILL having got at all these want resolution; the horses kept particulars, by exchanging others on [the fellow's head and eyes, no as frankly against them, with doubt, turned behind him;] and which I had formerly prepared the distance soon lengthened him both verbally and in writing; beyond recal. With a wistful eye found the people already of my she looked after him; sighed and

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* See p. 36.

party, and full of good wishes for him. That she had three or four my success, repeating to me all times played his master such they told him. tricks; but with all the virtue and But he had first acquainted me innocence in the world; running with the accounts he had given away to an intimate friend of hers, them of his lady and me. It is who though a young lady of honnecessary that I give thee the our, was but too indulgent to her particulars of his tale and I in this her only failing; for which have a little time upon my hands; reason his master had brought her for the maid of the house, who had to London lodgings; their usual been out of an errand, tells us, that residence being in the country: she saw Mrs. Moore [with whom and that, on his refusing to satisfy must be my first business] go into her about a lady he had been seen the house of a young gentleman, with in St. James's Park, she had within a few doors of her, who has for the first time since she came to a maiden sister, Miss Rawlins by town, served his master thus: name, so notify'd for prudence, whom he had left half distracted that none of her acquaintance un- on that account." dertake any thing of consequence without consulting her.

And truly well he might, poor gentleman! cried the honest folks, pitying me before they saw me.

Meanwhile my honest coachman is walking about Miss Raw- "He told them how he came by lins's door, in order to bring me his intelligence of her; and made notice of Mrs. Moore's return to himself such an interest with them, her own house. I hope her that they helped him to a change gossip's-tale will be as soon told of clothes for himself; and the as mine. Which take as follows. landlord, at his request, privately

Will told them, before I came, inquired, if the lady actually re"That his lady was but lately mained at Mrs. Moore's; and for married to one of the finest gentle- how long she had taken the lodmen in the world. But that he, gings: which he found only to be being very gay and lively, she was for a week certain: but she had mortal jealous of him; and in a fit said that she believed she should of that sort, had eloped from him. hardly stay so long. And then it For although she loved him dearly, was that he wrote his letter, and and he doated upon her (as well he sent it by honest Peter Patrick, as might, since, as they had seen, she thou hast heard." was the finest creature that ever the When I came, my person and sun shone upon;) yet she was apt to dress having answered Will's be very wilful and sullen, if he description, the people were ready might take the liberty to say so- to worship me. I now and then but truth was truth; and if she sighed, now and then put on a could not have her own way in lighter air; which, however, I deevery thing, would be for leaving signed should shew more of

O, any thing will do! the worse the better.

Exit landlord. Re-enter with two

vexation ill-disguised, than of real cheerfulness: and they told Will it was a thousand pities so fine a lady should have such skittish great-coats. tricks; adding, that she might ex- Ay, landlord, this will be best; pose herself to great dangers by for I can button the cape over the them; for there were rakes every lower part of my face. Don't I where [Lovelaces in every corner, look devilishly down and conJack!] and many about that town, cerned, landlord? who would leave nothing unat- I never saw a gentleman with a tempted to get into her company: better natured look. 'Tis a pity and although they might not pre- you should have such trials, sir. vail upon her, yet might they I must be very unhappy, no nevertheless hurt her reputation; doubt of it, landlord. And yet I am and, in time estrange the affec- a little pleased, you must needs tions of so fine a gentleman from think, that I have found her out her. before any great inconvenience has arisen to her. However, if cannot break her of these freaks, she'll break my heart; for I do love her with all her failings.

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Good sensible people these! Here, landlord; one word with you. My servant, I find, has acquainted you with the reason of my coming this way. An unhappy The good woman, who was affair, landlord! a very unhappy within hearing of all this, pitied affair! but ever was there a more me much.

virtuous woman.

Pray, your honour, said she, if may be so bold, was madam ever

So, sir, she seems to be. A │I thousand pities her ladyship has a mamma?

such ways and to so good-| humoured a gentleman as you seem to be, sir.

of it.

No! And I sighed - we have been but a little while married; and as I may say to you, it is her own fault that she is not in that way [not a word of a lie in this, Jack]. But to tell you truth, madam, she may be compared to the dog in the manger

Mother-spoilt, landlord! mother-spoilt! that's the thing! but, sighing, I must make the best What I want you to do for me, is to lend me a great coat. I care not what it is. If my spouse I understand you, sir, [simpershould see me at a distance, she ing] She is but young, sir. I would make it very difficult for me have heard of one or two such to get at her speech. A great coat skittish young ladies, in my time, with a cape, if you have one. Isir but when madam is in that must come upon her before she is way, I dare say, as she loves you (and it would be strange if she did not!) all this will be over, and she may make the best of wives.

aware.

I am afraid, sir, I have none fit for such a gentleman as you.

He fetched them. Will drew

That's all my hope. She is as fine a lady as I ever them on; and my legs then made beheld. I hope, sir, you won't be a good gouty appearance. too severe. She'll get over all The good woman, smiling, wishthese freaks, if once she be a ed me success: and so did the mamma, I warrant. landlord: and as thou knowest

I can't be severe to her; she that I am not a bad mimic, I took knows that. The moment I see a cane, which I borrowed of the her, all resentment is over with me, landlord, and stooped in the shoulif she give me but one kind look. ders to a quarter of a foot of less All this time, I was adjusting height, and stumped away cross to my horseman's coat, and Will the bowling-green, to practise a was buttoning the cape over my little the hobbling gait of a gouty chin. man. The landlady whispered

I asked the woman for a little her husband, as Will tells me, powder. She brought me a pow- He's a good one, I warrant him — der-box, and I lightly shook the I dare say the fault lies not at all puff over my hat, and flapt one of one side. While mine host side of it, though the lace looked replied, that I was so lively and so a little too gay for my covering; good-natured a gentleman, that and slouching it over my eyes he did not know who could be Shall I be known, think you, angry with me, do what I would. madam? A sensible fellow! I wish my Your honour is so expert, sir! charmer were of the same opinion. I wish, if I may be so bold, your And now I am going to try, if I lady has not some cause to be jea- can't agree with Goody Moore for lous. But it will be impossible, if lodgings and other conveniences you keep your laced clothes for my sick wife.

covered, that any body should "Wife, Lovelace?" methinks know you in that dress to be the thou interrogatest. same gentleman except they find you out by your clocked stockings.

Well observed can't you, landlord, lend or sell me a pair of stockings, that will draw over these?

I can cut off the feet, if they won't go into my shoes.

Yes, wife, for who knows what cautions the dear fugitive may have given in apprehension of me? "But has Goody Moore any other lodgings to let?"

Yes, yes; I have taken care of that; and find that she has just such conveniences as I want. And I know that my wife will like them. He could let me have a pair of For although married, I can do coarse, but clean, stirrup- every thing I please; and that's a stockings, if I pleased." bold word, you know. But had The best in the world for the she only a garret to let, I would purpose. have liked it; and been a poor

author afraid of arrests, and made riot? What widow, what servant, that my place of refuge; yet would asks questions of a man with an have made shift to pay beforehand equipage?

for what I had. I can suit myself My coachman, as well as my to any condition, that's my com- other servant, is under Will's tuition.

fort.

But let me see, shall I be angry or pleased, when I am admitted to my beloved's presence?

Never was there such a hideous rascal as he has made himself. The devil only and his other master can know him. They both have set their marks upon him. As to my honour's mark, it will never be out of his d-n'd wide mothe, as he calls it. For the dog will be hanged before he can lose the rest of his teeth by age. I am gone.

LETTER VIII.

Mr. Lovelace to John Belford, Esq.

Angry, to be sure. Has she not broken her word with me? at a time too when I was meditating to do her grateful justice? — And Hampstead, Friday night, June 9. is not breach of word a dreadful Now, Belford, for the narrative of crime in good folks? I have ever narratives. I will continue it, as been for forming my judgment of I have opportunity; and that so the nature of things and actions, dexterously, that if I break off not so much from what they are in twenty times, thou shalt not disthemselves, as from the character cern where I piece my thread. of the actors. Thus it would be Although grievously afflicted as odd a thing in such as we to with the gout, I alighted out of my keep our words with a woman, as it chariot (leaning very hard on my would be wicked in her to break cane with one hand, and my new hers to us. servant's shoulder with the other) Seest thou not that this un- the same instant almost that he seasonable gravity is admitted to had knocked at the door, that I quell the palpitations of this un- might be sure of admission into manageable heart? But still it will the house. go on with its boundings. I'll try, as I ride in my chariot, to tranquillize.

Ride, Bob! so little a way? Yes, ride, Jack; for am I not lame? and will it not look well to have a lodger who keeps his cha

I took care to button my great coat about me, and to cover with it even the pummel of my sword, being a little too gay for my years. knew not what occasion I might have for my sword. I stooped forward; blinked with my eyes to

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