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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Contemnit laudem virtus, licet usque sequatur
Gloria virtutem, corpus ut umbra suum.
A very pretty saying, and worthy of all menβs admiration.
And now, (most worthy Sir, my very good friend and patron), referring the whole to yours, and to your two brothers, and to young Mr. Harloweβs consideration, and to the wise consideration of good Madam Harlowe, and her excellent daughter, Miss Arabella Harlowe; I take the liberty to subscribe myself, what I truly am, and every shall delight to be, in all cases, and at all times,
Your and their most ready and obedient as well as faithful servant,
Elias Brand.
Letter 470 Mr. Lovelace, to John Belford, Esq.[In answer to Letter 467]
Wedn. Morn. Sept. 6
And is she somewhat better?β βBlessings upon thee without number or measure! Let her still be better and better! Tell me so at least, if she be not so: for thou knowest not what a joy that poor temporary reprieve, that she will hold out yet a day or two, gave me.
But who told this hardhearted and death-pronouncing doctor that she will hold it no longer? By what warrant says he this? What presumption in these parading solemn fellows of a college, which will be my contempt to the latest hour of my life, if this brother of it (eminent as he is deemed to be) cannot work an ordinary miracle in her favour, or rather in mine!
Let me tell thee, Belford, that already he deserves the utmost contempt, for suffering this charming clock to run down so low. What must be his art, if it could not wind it up in a quarter of the time he has attended her, when, at his first visits, the springs and wheels of life and motion were so good, that they seemed only to want common care and oiling!
I am obliged to you for endeavouring to engage her to see me. βTwas acting like a friend. If she had vouchsafed me that favour, she should have seen at her feet the most abject adorer that ever kneeled to justly-offended beauty.
What she bid you, and what she forbid you, to tell me, (the latter for tender considerations): that she forgives me; and that, could she have made me a good man, she would have made me a happy one! That she even loved me! At such a moment to own that she once loved me! Never before loved any man! That she prays for me! That her last tear should be shed for me, could she by it save a soul, doomed, without her, to perdition!β βO Belford! Belford! I cannot bear it!β βWhat a dog, what a devil have I been to a goodness so superlative!β βWhy does she not inveigh against me?β βWhy does she not execrate me?β βO the triumphant subduer! Ever above me!β βAnd now to leave me so infinitely below her!
Marry and repair, at any time; this, wretch that I was, was my plea to myself. To give her a lowering sensibility; to bring her down from among the stars which her beamy head was surrounded by, that my wife, so greatly above me, might not despise me; this was one of my reptile motives, owing to my more reptile envy, and to my consciousness of inferiority to her!β βYet she, from step to step, from distress to distress, to maintain her superiority; and, like the sun, to break out upon me with the greater refulgence for the clouds that I had contrived to cast about her!β βAnd now to escape me thus!β βNo power left me to repair her wrongs!β βNo alleviation to my self-reproach!β βNo dividing of blame with her!β β
Tell her, O tell her, Belford, that her prayers and wishes, her superlatively-generous prayers and wishes, shall not be vain: that I can, and do repentβ βand long have repented.β βTell her of my frequent deep remorsesβ βit was impossible that such remorses should not at last produce effectual remorseβ βyet she must not leave meβ βshe must live, if she would wish to have my contrition perfectβ βFor what can despair produce?
I will do everything you would have me do, in the return of your letters. You have infinitely obliged me by this last, and by pressing for an admission for me, though it succeeded not.
Once more, how could I be such a villain to so divine a creature! Yet love her all the time, as never man loved woman!β βCurse upon my contriving genius!β βCurse upon my intriguing head, and upon my seconding heart!β βTo sport with the fame, with the honour, with the life, of such an angel of a woman!β βO my dβ βd incredulity! That, believing
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