’Tis well, Madam!  But ask me any thing I can do to oblige you; and I will oblige you, though in nothing will you oblige me.

Then I ask you, then I request of you, to let me go to Hampstead.

I paused—­And at last—­By my soul you shall—­this very moment I will wait upon you, and see you fixed there, if you’ll promise me your hand on Thursday, in presence of your uncle.

I want not you to see me fixed.  I will promise nothing.

Take care, Madam, that you don’t let me see that I can have no reliance upon your future favour.

I have been used to be threatened by you, Sir—­but I will accept of your company to Hampstead—­I will be ready to go in a quarter of an hour—­my clothes may be sent after me.

You know the condition, Madam—­Next Thursday.

You dare not trust——­

My infinite demerits tell me, that I ought not—­nevertheless I will confide in your generosity.—­To-morrow morning (no new cause arising to give reason to the contrary) as early as you please you may go to Hampstead.

This seemed to oblige her.  But yet she looked with a face of doubt.

I will go down to the women, Belford.  And having no better judges at hand, will hear what they say upon my critical situation with this proud beauty, who has so insolently rejected a Lovelace kneeling at her feet, though making an earnest tender of himself for a husband, in spite of all his prejudices to the state of shackles.

LETTER XXXIV

Mr. Lovelace, to John Belford, ESQ.

Just come from the women.

’Have I gone so far, and am I afraid to go farther?—­Have I not already, as it is evident by her behaviour, sinned beyond forgiveness?—­A woman’s tears used to be to me but as water sprinkled on a glowing fire, which gives it a fiercer and brighter blaze:  What defence has this lady but her tears and her eloquence?  She was before taken at no weak advantage.  She was insensible in her moments of trial.  Had she been sensible, she must have been sensible.  So they say.  The methods taken with her have augmented her glory and her pride.  She has now a tale to tell, that she may tell with honour to herself.  No accomplice-inclination.  She can look me into confusion, without being conscious of so much as a thought which she need to be ashamed of.’

This, Jack, is the substance of the women’s reasonings with me.

To which let me add, that the dear creature now sees the necessity I am in to leave her.  Detecting me is in her head.  My contrivances are of such a nature, that I must appear to be the most odious of men if I am detected on this side matrimony.  And yet I have promised, as thou seest, that she shall set out to Hampstead as soon as she pleases in the morning, and that without condition on her side.

Dost thou ask, What I meant by this promise?