sential of the libertine's
character. Familiarized to the distresses he occasions, he is seldom
betrayed by tenderness into a complaisant weakness unworthy of himself.

[Mentioning the settlements, he says,]

I am in earnest as to the terms. If I marry her, [and I have no doubt
that I shall, after my pride, my ambition, my revenge, if thou wilt, is
gratified,] I will do her noble justice. The more I do for such a
prudent, such an excellent economist, the more shall I do for myself.--
But, by my soul, Belford, her haughtiness shall be brought down to own
both love and obligation to me. Nor will this sketch of settlements
bring us forwarder than I would have it. Modesty of sex will stand my
friend at any time. At the very altar, our hands joined, I will engage
to make this proud beauty leave the parson and me, and all my friends who
should be present, though twenty in number, to look like fools upon one
another, while she took wing, and flew out of the church door, or window,
(if that were open, and the door shut); and this only by a single word.

[He mentions his rash expression, That she should be his, although his
damnation was to be the purchase.]

At that instant, says he, I was upon the point of making a violent
attempt, but was checked in the very moment, and but just in time to save
myself, by the awe I was struck with on again casting my eye upon her
terrified but lovely face, and seeing, as I thought, her spotless heart
in every line of it.

O virtue, virtue! proceeds he, what is there in thee, that can thus
against his will affect the heart of a Lovelace!--Whence these
involuntary tremors, and fear of giving mortal offence?--What art thou,
that acting in the breast of a feeble woman, which never before, no, not
in my first attempt, young as I then was, and frightened at my own
boldness (till I found myself forgiven,) had such an effect upon me!

[He paints in lively colours, that part of the scene between him and the
Lady, where she says, The word father has a sweet and venerable sound
with it.]

I was exceedingly affected, says he, upon the occasion, but was ashamed
to be surprised into such a fit of unmanly weakness--so ashamed, that I
was resolved to subdue it at the instant, and to guard against the like
for the future. Yet, at that moment, I more than half regretted that I
could not permit her to enjoy a triumph which she so well deserved to
glory in--her youth, her beauty, her