I am pleased, however, as well as you, with his making
light of your brother’s wise project.—Poor
creature! and must Master Jemmy Harlowe, with his
half-wit, pretend to plot, and contrive mischief, yet
rail at Lovelace for the same things?—A
witty villain deserves hanging at once (and without
ceremony, if you please): but a half-witted one
deserves broken bones first, and hanging afterwards.
I think Lovelace has given his character in a few
words.*
* See Letter XLV. of this volume.
Be angry at me, if you please; but as sure as you
are alive, now that this poor creature, whom some
call your brother, finds he has succeeded in making
you fly your father’s house, and that he has
nothing to fear but your getting into your own, and
into an independence of him, he thinks himself equal
to any thing, and so he has a mind to fight Lovelace
with his own weapons.
Don’t you remember his pragmatical triumph,
as told you by your aunt, and prided in by that saucy
Betty Barnes, from his own foolish mouth?*
* See Vol.II. Letter XLVII.
I expect nothing from your letter to your aunt.
I hope Lovelace will never know the contents of it.
In every one of yours, I see that he as warmly resents
as he dares the little confidence you have in him.
I should resent it too, were I he; and knew that I
deserved better.
Don’t be scrupulous about clothes, if you think
of putting yourself into the protection of the ladies
of his family. They know how matters stand between
you and your relations, and love you never the worse
for the silly people’s cruelty.
I know you won’t demand possession of your estate.
But give him a right to demand it for you; and that
will be still better.
Adieu, my dear! May heaven guide and direct
you in all your steps, is the daily prayer of
Your ever affectionate and faithful
Anna Howe.
Mr. Belford, to Robert Lovelace,
ESQ.
Friday, April 21.
Thou, Lovelace, hast been long the entertainer; I
the entertained. Nor have I been solicitous
to animadvert, as thou wentest along, upon thy inventions,
and their tendency. For I believed, that with
all thy airs, the unequalled perfections and fine
qualities of this lady would always be her protection
and security. But now that I find thou hast so
far succeeded, as to induce her to come to town, and
to choose her lodgings in a house, the people of which
will too probably damp and suppress any honourable
motions which may arise in thy mind in her favour,
I cannot help writing, and that professedly in her
behalf.
My inducements to this are not owing to virtue:
But if they were, what hope could I have of affecting
thee by pleas arising from it?
Nor would such a man as thou art be deterred, were
I to remind thee of the vengeance which thou mayest
one day expect, if thou insultest a woman of her character,
family, and fortune.
