<h2> LETTER XXXV </h2>
<h3> MR. LOVELACE, TO JOHN BELFORD, ESQ. </h3>
<p>I have found out by my watchful spy almost as many of my charmer's
motions, as those of the rest of her relations. It delights me to think
how the rascal is caressed by the uncles and nephew; and let into their
secrets; yet it proceeds all the time by my line of direction. I have
charged him, however, on forfeiture of his present weekly stipend, and my
future favour, to take care, that neither my beloved, nor any of the
family suspect him: I have told him that he may indeed watch her egresses
and regresses; but that only keep off other servants from her paths; yet
not to be seen by her himself.</p>
<p>The dear creature has tempted him, he told them, with a bribe [which she
never offered] to convey a letter [which she never wrote] to Miss Howe; he
believes, with one enclosed (perhaps to me): but he declined it: and he
begged they would take notice of it to her. This brought him a stingy
shilling; great applause; and an injunction followed it to all the
servants, for the strictest look-out, lest she should contrive some way to
send it—and, above an hour after, an order was given him to throw
himself in her way; and (expressing his concern for denying her request)
to tender his service to her, and to bring them her letter: which it will
be proper for him to report that she has refused to give him.</p>
<p>Now seest thou not, how many good ends this contrivance answers?</p>
<p>In the first place, the lady is secured by it, against her own knowledge,
in the liberty allowed her of taking her private walks in the garden: for
this attempt has confirmed them in their belief, that now they have turned
off her maid, she has no way to send a letter out of the house: if she
had, she would not have run the risque of tempting a fellow who had not
been in her secret—so that she can prosecute unsuspectedly her
correspondence with me and Miss Howe.</p>
<p>In the next place, it will perhaps afford me an opportunity of a private
interview with her, which I am meditating, let her take it as she will;
having found out by my spy (who can keep off every body else) that she
goes every morning and evening to a wood-house remote from the
dwelling-house, under pretence of visiting and feeding a set of
bantam-poultry, which were produced from a breed that was her
grandfather's, and of which for that reason she is very fond; as also of
some other curious fowls brought from the same place. I have an account of
all her motions here. And as she has owned to me in one of her letters
that she corresponds privately with Miss Howe, I presume it is by this
way.</p>
<p>The interview I am meditating, will produce her consent, I hope, to other
favours of the like kind: for, should she not choose the place in which I
am expecting to see her, I can attend her any where in the rambling
Dutch-taste garden, whenever she will permit me that honour: for my
implement, high Joseph Leman, has procured me the opportunity of getting
two keys made to the garden-door (one of which I have given him for
reasons good); which door opens to the haunted coppice, as tradition has
made the servants think it; a man having been found hanging in it about
twenty years ago: and Joseph, upon proper notice, will leave it unbolted.</p>
<p>But I was obliged previously to give him my honour, that no mischief
should happen to any of my adversaries, from this liberty: for the fellow
tells me, that he loves all his masters: and, only that he knows I am a
man of honour; and that my alliance will do credit to the family; and
after prejudices are overcome, every body will think so; or he would not
for the world act the part he does.</p>
<p>There never was a rogue, who had not a salvo to himself for being so.—What
a praise to honesty, that every man pretends to it, even at the instant
that he knows he is pursuing the methods that will perhaps prove him a
knave to the whole world, as well as to his own conscience!</p>
<p>But what this stupid family can mean, to make all this necessary, I cannot
imagine. My REVENGE and my LOVE are uppermost by turns. If the latter
succeed not, the gratifying of the former will be my only consolation:
and, by all that's good, they shall feel it; although for it I become an
exile from my native country for ever.</p>
<p>I will throw myself into my charmer's presence. I have twice already
attempted it in vain. I shall then see what I may depend upon from her
favour. If I thought I had no prospect of that, I should be tempted to
carry her off. That would be a rape worthy of Jupiter!</p>
<p>But all gentle shall be my movements: all respectful, even to reverence,
my address to her—her hand shall be the only witness to the pressure
of my lip—my trembling lip: I know it will tremble, if I do not bid
it tremble. As soft my sighs, as the sighs of my gentle Rose-bud. By my
humility will I invite her confidence: the loneliness of the place shall
give me no advantage: to dissipate her fears, and engage her reliance upon
my honour for the future, shall be my whole endeavour: but little will I
complain of, not at all will I threaten, those who are continually
threatening me: but yet with a view to act the part of Dryden's lion; to
secure my love, or to let loose my vengeance upon my hunters.</p>
<p>What tho' his mighty soul his grief contains?<br/>
He meditates revenge who least complains:<br/>
And like a lion slumb'ring in his way,<br/>
Or sleep dissembling, while he waits his prey,<br/>
His fearless foes within his distance draws,<br/>
Constrains his roaring, and contracts his paws:<br/>
Till at the last, his time for fury found,<br/>
He shoots with sudden vengeance from the ground:<br/>
The prostrate vulgar passes o'er, and spares,<br/>
But, with a lordly rage, his hunter tears.<br/></p>
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