Clarissa Harlowe by Samuel Richardson (e reader manga .txt) π
Description
Clarissa Harlowe, or The History of a Young Lady is one of the longest novels in the English language. Written by Samuel Richardson over a period of several years and published in 1748, it is composed entirely of letters. Though this may seem daunting, the novel is highly regarded and is considered by many critics as one of the greatest works of English literature, appearing in several lists of the best British novels ever written.
The novel tells the story of young Clarissa, eighteen years of age at the start of the novel. She is generally regarded by her family, neighbors, and friends as the most virtuous and kind young woman they know. But she is drawn into correspondence with Richard Lovelace, a well-born, rich young man regarded as something of a rake, when she attempts to reconcile a dispute between Lovelace and her rash brother. Lovelace, imagining this indicates her love for him, carries out a series of strategems which result in him essentially abducting her from her family, from whom Clarissa then becomes estranged.
Much of the correspondence consists of the letters between Clarissa and her close friend Anna Howe, and between Lovelace and his friend Jack Belford, to whom he confesses all of his strategems and βinventionsβ in his assault on Clarissaβs honor.
The novel is thus a fascinating study of human nature. Much of Lovelaceβs actions and attitudes towards women are regrettably only too familiar to modern readers. And while Clarissa herself may be a little too good to be true, nevertheless she is shown as having some flaws which lead to a tragic outcome.
This Standard Ebooks edition is based on the 9-volume Chapman and Hall edition of 1902.
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- Author: Samuel Richardson
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So you are! so you are! stamping, her face still covered (she thought of Wednesday night, no doubt); and, sighing as if her heart were breaking, she put her hand to her foreheadβ βI shall be quite distracted!
I will not, my dearest love, uncover your face. You shall not look upon me, since I am so odious to you. But this is a violence I never thought you capable of.
And I would have pressed her hand, as I held it, with my lips; but she drew it from me with indignation.
Unhand me, Sir, said she. I will not be touched by you. Leave me to my fate. What right, what title, have you to persecute me thus?
What right, what title, my dear!β βBut this is not a timeβ βI have a letter from Captain Tomlinsonβ βhere it isβ βoffering it to herβ β
I will receive nothing from your handsβ βtell me not of Captain Tomlinsonβ βtell me not of anybodyβ βyou have no right to invade me thusβ βonce more leave me to my fateβ βhave you not made me miserable enough?
I touched a delicate string, on purpose to set her in such a passion before the women, as might confirm the intimation I had given of a phrensical disorder.
What a turn is here!β βLately so happyβ βnothing wanting but a reconciliation between you and your friends!β βThat reconciliation in such a happy trainβ βshall so slight, so accidental an occasion be suffered to overturn all our happiness?
She started up with a trembling impatience, her apron falling from her indignant faceβ βnow, said she, that thou darest to call the occasion slight and accidental, and that I am happily out of thy vile hands, and out of a house I have reason to believe as vile, traitor and wretch as thou art, I will venture to cast an eye upon theeβ βand Oh! that it were in my power, in mercy to my sex, to look thee first into shame and remorse, and then into death!
This violent tragedy-speech, and the high manner in which she uttered it, had its desired effect. I looked upon the women, and upon her by turns, with a pitying eye; and they shook their wise heads, and besought me to retire, and her to lie down to compose herself.
This hurricane, like other hurricanes, was presently allayed by a shower. She threw herself once more into her armed chair, and begged pardon of the women for her passionate excess; but not of me: yet I was in hopes, that when compliments were stirring, I should have come in for a share.
Indeed, Ladies, said I, (with assurance enough, thouβlt say), this violence is not natural to my belovedβs temperβ βmisapprehensionβ β
Misapprehension, wretch!β βAnd want I excuses from thee!
By what a scorn was every lovely feature agitated!
Then turning her face from me, I have not patience, O thou guileful betrayer, to look upon thee! Begone! Begone! With a face so unblushing, how darest thou appear in my presence?
I thought then, that the character of a husband obliged me to be angry.
You may one day, Madam, repent this treatment:β βby my soul, you may. You know I have not deserved it of youβ βyou knowβ βI have not.
Do I know you have not?β βWretch! Do I knowβ β
You do, Madamβ βand never did man of my figure and consideration, (I thought it was proper to throw that in) meet with such treatmentβ β
She lifted up her hands: indignation kept her silent.
But all is of a piece with the charge you bring against me of despoiling you of all succour and help, of making you poor and low, and with other unprecedented language. I will only say, before these two gentlewomen, that since it must be so, and since your former esteem for me is turned into so riveted an aversion, I will soon, very soon, make you entirely easy. I will be gone:β βI will leave you to your own fate, as you call it; and may that be happy!β βOnly, that I may not appear to be a spoiler, a robber indeed, let me know whither I shall send your apparel, and everything that belongs to you, and I will send it.
Send it to this place; and assure me, that you will never molest me more; never more come near me; and that is all I ask of you.
I will do so, Madam, said I, with a dejected air. But did I ever think I should be so indifferent to you?β βHowever, you must permit me to insist on your reading this letter; and on your seeing Captain Tomlinson, and hearing what he has to say from your uncle. He will be here by-and-by.
Donβt trifle with me, said she in an imperious toneβ βdo as you offer. I will not receive any letter from your hands. If I see Captain Tomlinson, it shall be on his own account, not on yours. You tell me you will send me my apparelβ βif you would have me believe anything you say, let this be the test of your sincerity.β βLeave me now, and send my things.
The women started.β βThey did nothing but stare; and appeared to be more and more at a loss what to make of the matter between us.
I pretended to be going from her in a pet; but, when I had got to the door, I turned back; and, as if I had recollected myselfβ βOne word more, my dearest creature!β βCharming, even in your anger!β βO my fond soul! said I, turning half round, and pulling out my handkerchief.β β
I believe, Jack, my eyes did glisten a little. I have no doubt but they did. The women pitied
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