er most hopeful
prospects? Must it not even rise strongest upon a thoughtful mind, when
her hopes are the fairest? Even her pleasures, were the man to prove
better than she expects, coming to her with an abatement, like that which
persons who are in possession of ill-gotten wealth must then most
poignantly experience (if they have reflecting and unseared minds) when,
all their wishes answered, (if answered,) they sit down in hopes to enjoy
what they have unjustly obtained, and find their own reflections their
greatest torment.

May you, my dear friend, be always happy in your reflections, prays

Your ever affectionate
CL. HARLOWE.

***

[Mr. Lovelace, in his next letter, triumphs on his having carried his two
great points of making the Lady yield to pass for his wife to the
people of the house, and to his taking up his lodging in it, though
but for one night. He is now, he says, in a fair way, and doubts not
but that he shall soon prevail, if not by persuasion, by surprise.
Yet he pretends to have some little remorse, and censures himself as
to acting the part of the grand tempter. But having succeeded thus
far, he cannot, he says, forbear trying, according to the resolution
he had before made, whether he cannot go farther.

He gives the particulars of their debates on the above-mentioned
subjects, to the same effect as in the Lady's last letters.

It will by this time be seen that his whole merit, with regard to the
Lady, lies in doing justice to her excellencies both of mind and
person, though to his own condemnation. Thus he begins his succeeding
letter:]

And now, Belford, will I give thee an account of our first breakfast-
conversation.

All sweetly serene and easy was the lovely brow and charming aspect of my
goddess, on her descending among us; commanding reverence from every eye,
a courtesy from every knee, and silence, awful silence, from every
quivering lip: while she, armed with conscious worthiness and
superiority, looked and behaved as an empress would look and behave among
her vassals; yet with a freedom from pride and haughtiness, as if born to
dignity, and to a behaviour habitually gracious.

[He takes notice of the jealousy, pride, and vanity of Sally Martin and
Polly Horton, on his respectful behaviour to the Lady: creatures who,
brought up too high for their fortunes, and to a taste of pleasure,
and the public diversions, had fallen a