This is a list of all the questions and their associated study carrel identifiers. One can learn a lot of the "aboutness" of a text simply by reading the questions.
identifier | question |
---|---|
29964 | And how was this happy ending to be brought about? 29964 And are not the very Devils, in Scripture, said to_ believe_ and_ tremble_? 29964 But is it not true, that those Altercations are the Foundation of the whole, and therefore a necessary part of the work? 29964 But why is Death set in shocking lights, when it is the universal lot? 29964 But why is Death set in such shocking Lights, when it is the common Lot? 29964 If a Clarissa thus fell, what must the rest of Women expect, if they give greater Encouragements to yet more abandoned Men? 29964 Is Clarissa a mere Novel? 29964 The Answer of Simeon and Levi to their Father''s Complaint of Cruelty was only this:_ Should he deal with_= our Sister=,_ as with an_= Harlot=? 29964 Two or three Hours furnish Matter for an excellent Play: Why may not Two or Three Months supply Materials for as many Volumes? 29964 V._ Why did she not throw herself into Lady Betty''s Protection?_ For Answer, see Vol. 29964 What but, as we go along, a Life of Apprehension, sometimes for our Friends, oftener for ourselves? 12398 ''And now, thou sorrowful monkey, what aileth thee?'' 12398 ''Who can be better, or more worthy, than they should be? 12398 * And did she not own to thee, that once she could have loved me; and, could she have made me good, would have made me happy? 12398 * Yet would I fain secure thy morals too, if matrimony will do it.--Let me see!--Now I have it.---- Has not the widow Lovick a daughter, or a niece? 12398 -- As how, Madam? 12398 --But do you think I can leave off, in the middle of a conversation, to run and set down what offers, and send it away piece- meal as I write? 12398 --If I could, must I not lose one half, while I put down the other? 12398 Again,''I know you will favour us by and by; and what do you by your excuses but raise our expectations, and enhance your own difficulties?'' 12398 And are not the very devils, in Scripture, said to believe and tremble? 12398 And didst thou not, on that occasion, heavily blame thyself? 12398 And has she not forgiven me?--I am then in statu quo prius with her, am I not? 12398 And how was this happy ending to be brought about? 12398 And is she dead?--Indeed dead? 12398 And let me ask what thou thinkest of it? 12398 And must she not suffer dishonour in his dishonour? 12398 And ought a man of a contrary character, for the sake of either of our reputations, to be plagued with me? 12398 And shall not young ladies endeavour to make up for their defects in one part of education, by their excellence in another?'' 12398 And was not her aspect a benign proof of the observation? 12398 And what are twenty, or thirty, or forty years to look back upon? 12398 And what is the cause of his present concern, as to his own particular? 12398 And what is there in one woman more than another, for matter of that? 12398 And what, in effect, does my mother say? 12398 And yet, engaged to enter into that state, as I am, how can I help myself? 12398 And, who shall be proud of talents they give not to themselves?'' 12398 And, with these notions, let me repeat my question, Do you think I ought to marry at all? 12398 Are not all the girls forewarned? 12398 At another time,''Has not this accomplishment been a part of your education, my Nancy? 12398 But are you, to whom the occasion is owing, entitled to rejoice in their distress? 12398 But for thy HEART, Belford, who ever doubted the wickedness of that? 12398 But if that happens to her which is likely to happen, wilt thou not tremble for what may befal the principal? 12398 But is it not true, that those altercations are the foundation of the whole, and therefore a necessary part of the work? 12398 But this was her answer;''I have my choice, who can wish for more? 12398 But what is this, cousin Charlotte, said I, that is dearer to you than your life? 12398 But what should I be the better for killing him? 12398 But what title have I to call him to account, who intend not to have him?'' 12398 But why is death set in such shocking lights, when it is the universal lot? 12398 But why, if such were his purpose, did he not let me know it before I left England? 12398 But wilt thou write often, when I am gone? 12398 But, with respect to the case put, how knew we, till the theft was committed, that the miser did actually set so romantic a value upon the treasure? 12398 Can a wise young lady be easy under such censure? 12398 Could I have been more than so at the end of what is called a happy life of twenty, or thirty, or forty years to come? 12398 Could ever wilful hard- heartedness, the Colonel asks, be more severely punished? 12398 Did not the lady herself once putt his very point home upon me? 12398 Did not the surgeon tell me I might? 12398 Do I not pay for it now? 12398 Do the surgeons actually give her over? 12398 Do you think you are among those who know not how to make allowances? 12398 Does it not look as if your principal motive to oblige was to obtain applause? 12398 For am I not her husband? 12398 For is she not mine? 12398 For, I suppose, Jack, it is no joke: she is certainly and bonâ fide dead: I''n''t she? 12398 For, as I shall make the worst figure in it myself, and have a right to treat myself as nobody else shall, who shall controul me? 12398 Had she no repinings? 12398 Had the dear child no heart burnings? 12398 Have I not earned her dearly?--Is not d----n----n likely to be the purchase to me, though a happy eternity will be her''s? 12398 Her sex, did I say? 12398 How could she then forgive the wretch by whose premeditated villany she was entangled? 12398 How often, with you, has impetuosity brought on abasement? 12398 How then can I expect mercy any where else? 12398 How, then, for your own honour, can we allow of your excuses?'' 12398 I came back to the bed- side when the surgeons had inspected the fracture; and asked them, If there were any expectation of her life? 12398 I did not ask her, by whom reduced? 12398 I must go down to this officious Peer-- Who the devil sent for him? 12398 If I marry either a sordid or an imperious wretch, can I, do you think, live with him? 12398 In half of any of these periods, what friends might not I have mourned for? 12398 In such a case, my Cousin, where shall the evil stop?--And who shall avenge on you?--And who on your avenger? 12398 Is not the man guilty of a high degree of injustice, who is more apt to give contradiction, than able to bear it? 12398 Is not this Mr. Morden''s hand? 12398 Justly, said she, does she call me so; for we had but one heart, but one soul, between us; and now my better half is torn from me-- What shall I do? 12398 Let me consider, Lovelace-- Whose turn can be next? 12398 Let me know, if the d----d mother be yet the subject of the devil''s own vengeance-- if the old wretch be dead or alive? 12398 May I recover? 12398 Meantime, continued I, tell me, with temper and calmness, why was you so desirous to see me? 12398 Mrs. Carter asked, To what purpose, if the operation would not save her? 12398 Now, Lovelace, let me know if the word grace can be read from my pen without a sneer from thee and thy associates? 12398 O my Aunt, said Arabella, no more of that!--Who would have thought that the dear creature had been such a penitent? 12398 Once more then let me execrate-- but now violence and passion again predominate!--And how can it be otherwise? 12398 Pray, do you never travel thirty or forty miles? 12398 Shall we suppose, that you sing but indifferently? 12398 She, no doubt, is happy: but who shall forgive for a whole family, in all its branches made miserable for their lives? 12398 Sir, who is good? 12398 Such exalted generosity!--Why didst thou put into my craving hands the copy of her will? 12398 Supposing this excellent person absent, who, my dear, if your example spread, shall sing after you? 12398 The CHILD so much a woman, what must the WOMAN be? 12398 The conquest did not pay trouble; and what was there in one woman more than another? 12398 They that have seen him shall say, Where is he? 12398 Thou art a pretty fellow for this: For how wouldst thou have saved her? 12398 Thou talkest of a wife, Jack: What thinkest you of our Charlotte? 12398 To him who had been the cause that thou wert cut off in the bloom of youth?'' 12398 To what purpose did the doctor write, if she was so near her end?--Why, as every body says, did he not send sooner?-- Or, Why at all? 12398 Upon such despicable terms as these, think you that I could bear to live? 12398 Upon the whole, Jack, had not the lady died, would there have been half so much said of it, as there is? 12398 Was I the cause of her death? 12398 Was he unable to work himself up to a resolution, till he knew me to be out of the kingdom? 12398 Were she a man, do you think, Sir, she, at this time, would have your advice to take upon such a subject as that upon which you write? 12398 What else signifies her forgiveness? 12398 What great matters has she suffered, that grief should kill her thus? 12398 What have Tourville and Mowbray to do, that they can not set out with you? 12398 What mercy can I expect? 12398 What methods didst thou take to save her? 12398 What though I treated her like a villain? 12398 What was the world to her, wringing her hands, now the child of her bosom, and of her heart, was no more? 12398 Whence can this particularity arise? 12398 Which is Mr. Belford''s? 12398 Who can bear such reflections as these? 12398 Who could forbear to do so? 12398 Who knows but that those things, which will help to secure you in the way you are got into, may convert me? 12398 Who, I? 12398 Whose else can she be? 12398 Why not? 12398 Why sentest thou to me the posthumous letter?--What thou I was earnest to see the will? 12398 Why should I oppress others, to gratify myself? 12398 Why, he asks, did his mother bring him up to know no controul? 12398 Why, then, should such cursed qualms take him?--Who would have thought he had been such poor blood? 12398 Why, why did my mother bring me up to bear no controul? 12398 Will amputation save her? 12398 Will it avail you any thing? 12398 Will those be an objection? 12398 Will you not, dear Sir, favour us with your presence at this melancholy time? 12398 Wilt thou then piece the thread where thou brokest it off? 12398 Would she not have been mine had I not? 12398 Would thy fond love his grace to her controul, And in these low abodes of sin and pain Her pure, exalted soul, Unjustly, for thy partial good detain? 12398 Yet who but must pity the unhappy mother? 12398 Yet why he should, I can not see: for if she is gone, she is gone; and who can help it? 12398 You hate them; and they would be gainers by his death; rejoicers in your''s-- And have you not done mischief enough already? 12398 and, being forgiven by her, am I not the chosen of her heart? 12398 as if I had never offended?--Whose then can she be but mine? 12398 or could I help it? 12398 preferable to the talent of singing? 12398 said she, and is it come to this?--O my poor Nancy!--How shall I be able to break the matter to my Nancy? 12398 said she, did you not tell me I might recover? 12398 to see him sit silent in a corner, when he has tired himself with his mock majesty, and with his argumentation,( Who so fond of arguing as he?) 12398 what temptations from worldly prosperity might I not have encountered with? 12398 what will become of me?--Yet tell me,( for the surgeons have told you the truth, no doubt,) tell me, shall I do well again? 12398 when, shall I know a joyful hour? 12398 who dare call me to account? 11733 And did it cost you much to give up your ideas?" |
11733 | And do n''t you? |
11733 | And how do you do, my dear Mr Hare? 11733 And the cloister you are always speaking about, where will that be?" |
11733 | And what do you think of him? |
11733 | And what is this? |
11733 | And which are the pinnacles? |
11733 | And why, Kitty? |
11733 | And with whom do you begin? |
11733 | And you have, I suppose, translated some of these poems? |
11733 | And you still are determined on becoming a priest? |
11733 | Are you going to be here some time? |
11733 | But could I be held accountable for what I said? |
11733 | But what is it, Miss, what is it? 11733 But what is the matter, dear? |
11733 | But what is the matter.... Are you ill? |
11733 | But why not a light timber lantern tower? |
11733 | But, oh, how pretty; will it be really like that? |
11733 | Did you ever hear such rubbish, or affectation, whichever you like to call it? 11733 Do n''t talk nonsense, do you think I do n''t know you? |
11733 | Do you never change your mind, Kitty? |
11733 | Do you think so? 11733 Do you think the house will look prettier than it does now? |
11733 | Horror of what? |
11733 | I always keep a good supply of liquor; have a cigar? |
11733 | I do n''t know,said Kitty, laughing,"but how funny, was it not, that the gipsy girl should guess right?" |
11733 | I mean that I am in love with you, will you love me? |
11733 | I was delirious, was I not? |
11733 | I''ve fed him since he was a little kitten; is n''t he sweet? |
11733 | In his hymns? |
11733 | Is Mr John Norton at home? |
11733 | Is that all?... 11733 Is there any other standpoint?" |
11733 | It ought to be very handsome; it cost five hundred, did it not? |
11733 | Kitty, Kitty, what do you mean? 11733 Now''aven''t you a copper or two for a poor fellow, Missie?" |
11733 | Now, can anything be more charming? 11733 Now, do n''t run so fast, Missie, wo n''t you give a poor fellow something?" |
11733 | Now, do you not understand what I mean when I say that the hymns of Prudentius are an anticipation of the form of the English ballad?... 11733 Of course it is, what else have I to think about; what else concerns middle- aged people like you and me but our children? |
11733 | Of course, but not a Jesuit...."And why? 11733 Oh, John, dear, you are not really determined to pull the house down?" |
11733 | Oh, John, why should you do away with the billiard- room; why should n''t the monks play billiards? 11733 Oh, is n''t he a beauty? |
11733 | Oh, yes you''ave; what about those pretty lips? |
11733 | Quite true; I know you save me a great deal of expense; but really..."Really what? 11733 Really, do you think I do?" |
11733 | Shall I fill the bath, Miss? 11733 Shall I, shall I propose to her now?" |
11733 | The roses, the snake, the cliff''s edge, was it then only a dream? |
11733 | Then you will marry me? |
11733 | Very well then, one of these days...."And I may tell my mother of your promise to- night?... 11733 Well, it is not more than eight miles; you do n''t think you could manage it?" |
11733 | Well, perhaps it is; but tell me, I am curious to hear what you want to talk to me about.... Something about John, is it not? |
11733 | Well, what will you do? |
11733 | Were mother and son ever so different? |
11733 | What a beautiful walk you will have, Mr Norton; but are n''t you tired? 11733 What a horrible man... he attacked me, ill- treated me... what for?" |
11733 | What are gables, John? |
11733 | What can he mean by having arrangements to make? |
11733 | What can you expect after a month of heavy rain? 11733 What circumstances?" |
11733 | What day will you come and see us, father dear? |
11733 | What do you mean, John? |
11733 | What do you mean? |
11733 | What do you mean? |
11733 | What do you think, Kitty, would you like to have your fortune told? |
11733 | What is an apex? 11733 What is this? |
11733 | What then? |
11733 | What would you do if I were to get so tired that I could not go back or forward? |
11733 | What? 11733 Where is Kitty?" |
11733 | Who was, then? |
11733 | Why do you seek to make yourself ridiculous? |
11733 | Why do you talk in that way? |
11733 | Why is he not like other people? 11733 Why should she not believe it?" |
11733 | Why? 11733 Why? |
11733 | Wo n''t you cross the poor gipsy''s palm with a bit of silver, my pretty gentleman, and she will tell you your fortune and that of your pretty lady? |
11733 | Yes, Mr Austen has a very nice property; it extends right into the town of Shoreham, does it not? |
11733 | Yes,said she,"but why do n''t you say a round window?" |
11733 | Yes; but do you think I knew what I was saying? |
11733 | You came down here to become a Carmelite monk; what do you mean? |
11733 | You do n''t mean to say that you trace back our north- country ballads to, what do you call him? |
11733 | You promise not to tell? |
11733 | ''By breathing torrents of flame and smoke, Your dyke,''said the Saint,''is hindered each minute, What can one expect when the Devil is in it?'' |
11733 | ''What''s the row?'' |
11733 | A girl, a girl... was a girl to soil the ideal he had in view? |
11733 | Ah, life, life, what hast thou for giving save cruel deceptions and miserable wrongs? |
11733 | And Evy and Mary, when would they be married? |
11733 | And I was very near death; I had a narrow escape, doctor?" |
11733 | And then?" |
11733 | And then?... |
11733 | And whom do you speak of next?" |
11733 | And worst news of all, he is, would you believe it? |
11733 | Are you ill? |
11733 | At last she said, unable to bear the suspense any longer:"Are you going to be a priest, John, dear?" |
11733 | Beauty, what was it but temptation? |
11733 | Beside, why should I be tired of being a monk? |
11733 | Blue? |
11733 | But are n''t you a little tired, John? |
11733 | But did I use very bad language? |
11733 | But had they removed that horrid feather- bed? |
11733 | But he is all right now, are n''t you, dear?" |
11733 | But if I am going out with Kitty.... Where is she?" |
11733 | But perhaps you do not know I am writing a book.... Did my mother tell you anything about it?" |
11733 | But tell me, what will you take to drink? |
11733 | But was she sure that she did? |
11733 | But what is the news?" |
11733 | But what was she saying? |
11733 | But why was he thinking of her? |
11733 | But you do n''t care for pets, do you, John?" |
11733 | Claudian''s poem?" |
11733 | Could he abandon this? |
11733 | Did it move? |
11733 | Did you ever hear of such a thing? |
11733 | Do n''t you think that you would find a good comfortable arm- chair very useful for reading purposes?" |
11733 | Do you know the book?" |
11733 | Do you know what he means? |
11733 | For penance I say, You must kneel and pray For hours which will number seven; Fifty times say the rosary,( Fifty,''twill be a poser, eh?) |
11733 | Had he ever loved her? |
11733 | Had he not loved her? |
11733 | Had she ever loved him? |
11733 | Had she not passed the age when the sentimental emotions are liveliest? |
11733 | Had they forgotten to bar up the house? |
11733 | Have you been keeping my mother company ever since? |
11733 | Have you no other coat? |
11733 | Her parasol-- where was it? |
11733 | How I have suffered.... What is the use of growing wheat when we are only getting eight pounds ten a load?... |
11733 | How are they getting on with the cottages that were burnt down?" |
11733 | How often did he ask himself if he were surrendering his true vocation? |
11733 | How often did he beg of God to guide him aright? |
11733 | How well he remembered her words, her laughter, and now... now; was it possible he never would hear her laugh again? |
11733 | How will she save herself? |
11733 | I am only seventeen?" |
11733 | I had forgotten, but what are you to do? |
11733 | I want to talk to you; but we shall have plenty of time presently; you''ll stay and dine? |
11733 | I was delirious, was I not?" |
11733 | I wonder what flower I should compare you to.... Shall I say a rose? |
11733 | Ideas fell.... Was this all; was this all he had struggled for; was he in love? |
11733 | If God in His infinite mercy had not withheld him?... |
11733 | If father knew it, or John knew it, he would be put in prison, and for a very long time.... Why did he attack me?... |
11733 | If he failed... what should he do then? |
11733 | In whose poetry?" |
11733 | Is it a proper thing to transact all his business through a solicitor, and never to see his tenants? |
11733 | Is not that enough?" |
11733 | Is not that so, doctor?" |
11733 | Is there no chance of your ever marrying?" |
11733 | Is this her room? |
11733 | It really was not my fault; I have been passing through a very terrible state of mind lately.... And how do you do, Kitty? |
11733 | It sounds very shocking, does n''t it? |
11733 | It was still night, but what would the day bring to her? |
11733 | Kitty had seen it under all aspects, she had lived in it many years: then why does she look with strained eyes? |
11733 | Look at me, am I unhappy? |
11733 | Me?" |
11733 | Mental and physical wants!--he who may know one may not know the other: is not the absence of one the reason of the other? |
11733 | Now, in the face of such losses, do n''t you think that we should retrench?" |
11733 | O to die, to sink in that beautiful sea, so still, so calm, so calm-- why would it not take her to its bosom and hide her away? |
11733 | Say-- speak, speak man, speak; how did this happen?" |
11733 | Shall I get you a pillow from the next room? |
11733 | Shall I leave hot water here, Miss?" |
11733 | Shall I tell Mr Hare? |
11733 | Should she go back and see if she could find it? |
11733 | Stay, will you have a glass of wine before going upstairs?" |
11733 | The evening seemed to brighten, the tumultuous landscape to grow still, To rob her, and of what?... |
11733 | The watch was gone... but, had she lost it? |
11733 | Then why the anomaly of Italian urns and pilasters; why not red Elizabethan gables and diamond casements? |
11733 | Then you are not going to become a monk?" |
11733 | This hour of beautiful sorrow and roses, how long will it be remembered? |
11733 | Three times out of five when the women met at lunch, Mrs Norton said:"Kitty, would you like to come out for a drive?" |
11733 | Was he responsible for those words? |
11733 | Was his powerlessness a sign from God that he was abandoning his true vocation for a false one? |
11733 | Was it he? |
11733 | Was it true, as the architect said, that it would throw all the front rooms into darkness? |
11733 | Was she safe? |
11733 | Was there anyone in her room? |
11733 | We know which sorrow is the manliest, which appeals to our sympathy, but who can measure the depth of John Norton''s suffering? |
11733 | We wo n''t ask him any questions; we''ll just wait and let him tell his own story....""How do you do, mother?" |
11733 | What about the ball at Steyning? |
11733 | What concern had she in his life? |
11733 | What greater honour could he bestow upon her? |
11733 | What must all this lead to? |
11733 | What reason had he to believe that she would not have him? |
11733 | What was there for him to do? |
11733 | What would the end be? |
11733 | When do you want me to marry you? |
11733 | Which do you think the greater poet?" |
11733 | Why are you not dressed?" |
11733 | Why are you not the same? |
11733 | Why do you dress yourself in that way? |
11733 | Why does he not come and live at his own beautiful place? |
11733 | Why does he not get married?... |
11733 | Why does he not take up his position in the county? |
11733 | Why does it not speak in strange dialect? |
11733 | Why does she grasp the rail of the bed-- why? |
11733 | Why does she shrink? |
11733 | Why not? |
11733 | Why ought I to come to Sussex, and marry my neighbour''s daughter?" |
11733 | Why precipitate another into the gulf of being?" |
11733 | Why should n''t I turn it into a monastery and become a monk? |
11733 | Why should n''t I? |
11733 | Why should she refuse him? |
11733 | Why spoil that charming thing called society by my unlovely presence? |
11733 | Why strive to hasten events? |
11733 | Why this kissing, this approachment of flesh? |
11733 | Why will he not take up his position in the county?" |
11733 | Why will he waste his time with a lot of rubbishy Latin authors? |
11733 | Will he kill it? |
11733 | Will the snake pass by the hiding girl? |
11733 | Will you come home for Christmas?" |
11733 | Will you have a glass of champagne, or a brandy and soda, or what do you say to an absinthe?" |
11733 | Would he succeed in creating the monastery he dreamed of so fondly? |
11733 | Would it precipitate itself into the sea, and would she be engulphed in the universal ruin? |
11733 | Yes, he was sure of that; then why was there no burning grief nor any tears? |
11733 | You wo n''t go out to walk with Kitty Hare?" |
11733 | and who would have expected to see you here? |
11733 | have you had a quarrel with the Jesuits?" |
11733 | of her watch; where was it? |
11733 | quid admirer? |
11733 | quid rideam? |
11733 | right across the downs from Shoreham to Henfield?" |
11733 | ubi gaudeam? |
11733 | why should I insult them? |
11733 | you mean to say you are going to walk home?... |
11733 | you mean to say you never heard the legend? |
11889 | ''Tis only, simply, a blessing I ask: a blessing to die with; not to lie with.--Do they know that? |
11889 | ''Tis true, by my soul!--Has she not hinted this to Miss Howe, do you think? |
11889 | ''What then, my dear and only friend, can I wish for but death?--And what, after all, is death? |
11889 | *** Again they asked her if they should send any word to her lodgings? |
11889 | -- And is this the cause of such a disgraceful insult upon me in the open streets? |
11889 | ----But am I to go with men only? |
11889 | --And,''Whether they actually did go to town accordingly, and to Hampstead afterwards?'' |
11889 | --Besides, dost think I shall grudge to replace, to three times the value, what she disposes of? |
11889 | --But is not the fact quite otherwise? |
11889 | --Have you ever read Prior''s Alma, Mr. Hickman? |
11889 | --May I not ask, if Miss Howe be here? |
11889 | --This I leave to your inquiry-- for-- your--[shall I call the man---- your?] |
11889 | --What say you to that, Sir- r? |
11889 | A blessing for what, sister Clary? |
11889 | A shower falling, as she spoke,''What,''said she, looking up,''do the elements weep for me?'' |
11889 | Again--''Whether she and one of her nieces Montague were to go to town, on an old chancery suit?'' |
11889 | Am I not worthy an answer, Miss Harlowe? |
11889 | An honour worth a king''s ransom; and what I would give-- what would I not give? |
11889 | And after all,( methinks thou asked,) art thou still resolved to repair, if reparation be put into thy power? |
11889 | And art thou not about to reform!--Won''t this consent of minds between thee and the widow,[ what age is she, Jack? |
11889 | And can not you say? |
11889 | And do you think, if she was thus thrown into a profound sleep, that she is the only lady that was ever taken at such an advantage? |
11889 | And have I half the obligation to her, that à � neas had to the Queen of Carthage? |
11889 | And how do you, Mr. Lovelace? |
11889 | And if no sake is dear enough to move her Harlowe- spirit in my favour, has she any title to the pity thou so pitifully art always bespeaking for her? |
11889 | And is it fair to punish me for what is my misfortune, and not my fault? |
11889 | And is she not answerable to God, to us, to you, and to all the world who knew her, for the abuse of such talents as she has abused? |
11889 | And must I still wait the return of another messenger? |
11889 | And never was bear so miserably baited as thy poor friend!--And for what?--why for the cruelty of Miss Harlowe: For have I committed any new offence? |
11889 | And now, Lord, what is my hope? |
11889 | And thou art a pretty fellow, art thou not? |
11889 | And what must you be, to be able to look her in the face? |
11889 | And what, returned he, shall be my inducement to take what I do at your hands?--Hay, Sir? |
11889 | And when I came to that sentence, praying for my reformation, perhaps-- Is that there? |
11889 | And whether that family would not exult over me, were I to marry their daughter, as if I dared not to do otherwise? |
11889 | And who can be entitled to this power, if YOU are not? |
11889 | And why should more be asked for me than I can partake of? |
11889 | And why? |
11889 | And will you be so good as to tell me, if I may have any hopes? |
11889 | And wo n''t you take it? |
11889 | And would not every one be able to assign the reason why Clarissa Harlowe chose solitude, and to sequester herself from the world? |
11889 | And would not my conscious eye confess my fault, whether the eyes of others accused me or not? |
11889 | And would you, my dear, in the like case[ whispering her] have yielded to entreaty-- would you have meant no more by the like exclamations? |
11889 | And yet you care not, as I see, to leave the house.--And so, you wo n''t go down, Miss Harlowe? |
11889 | Are you not-- are you not Mr. Belford, Sir? |
11889 | At last, I say; for whose heart have I hitherto moved? |
11889 | Ay, Mr. Hickman, that''s the question: I want to know if the lady says she had? |
11889 | But can there be a stronger instance in point than what the unaccountable resentments of such a lady as Miss Clarissa Harlowe afford us? |
11889 | But canst thou suppose that this admirable woman is not all, is not every thing with me? |
11889 | But dost thou not observe, what a strange, what an uncommon openness of heart reigns in this lady? |
11889 | But have you no things to send for from thence? |
11889 | But how does she know what love, in its flaming ardour, will stimulate men to do? |
11889 | But how much must I write for? |
11889 | But in that, must I not now sit brooding over my past afflictions, and mourning my faults till the hour of my release? |
11889 | But now, what is to be the end of this disgraceful violence? |
11889 | But recovering herself, Very well, said she-- why should not all be of a piece?--Why should not my wretchedness be complete? |
11889 | But say you, Sir, for I would not, methinks, have the wretch capable of this sordid baseness!--Say you, that he is innocent of this last wickedness? |
11889 | But what have you farther heard? |
11889 | But what thinkest thou is the second request she had to make to me? |
11889 | But who can supplant her? |
11889 | But who would spare so very absurd a wrong- head, as should bestow tinsel to make his deformity the more conspicuous? |
11889 | But why run I into length to such a poor thing? |
11889 | But why so? |
11889 | But why, said I, out of danger?--When can this be justly said of creatures, who hold by so uncertain a tenure? |
11889 | But you say there is a third thing you blame the lady for: May I ask what that is? |
11889 | But, Sir, had not the lady something given her to make her sleep? |
11889 | But, Sir, if there be any truth in the story, what is he? |
11889 | But, after all, it would be very whimsical, would it not, if all my plots and contrivances should end in wedlock? |
11889 | But, after your letter, what can be said? |
11889 | But, as you say, whom has it moved, that you wished to move? |
11889 | But, dear Madam, why wo n''t you send to your lodgings? |
11889 | But, in the letter you have, does she, without reserve, express her contrition? |
11889 | But, was that the case? |
11889 | Can I help her implacable spirit? |
11889 | Can I vow duty to one so wicked, and hazard my salvation by joining myself to so great a profligate, now I know him to be so? |
11889 | Can it be? |
11889 | Can nobody, joined in another gentleman, be applied to, who will see that so fine a creature is not ill used? |
11889 | Can she be any man''s but mine? |
11889 | Can there be any atonement for her crime? |
11889 | Can they by it purchase a sponge that will wipe out from the year the past fatal four months of my life? |
11889 | Canst thou not form some scheme to come at the copies of these letters, or the substance of them at least, and of that of her other correspondencies? |
11889 | Charlotte asked if I did not still seem inclinable to do the lady justice, if she would accept of me? |
11889 | Cot- so, Sir, I know you are deemed to be a man of wit: but may I not ask if these things sit not too light upon you? |
11889 | Could I ever have thought that my doting- piece, as every one called you, would have done thus? |
11889 | Dear Miss Lloyd, said he, with an air,( taking her hand as he quitted my mother''s,) tell me, tell me, is Miss Arabella Harlowe here? |
11889 | Did ever comedy end more happily than this long trial? |
11889 | Did the two ladies tell you who the gentleman was?--Or, did they say any more on the subject? |
11889 | Do you come hither to persuade me to hate prudery, as you call it, as much as you do? |
11889 | Do you flatter me, Sir? |
11889 | Do you think you are to stay here as long as you live? |
11889 | Do you use spectacles, Mr. Hickman? |
11889 | Does this not show, that revenge has very little sway in her mind; though she can retain so much proper resentment? |
11889 | Dost think she is not a little touched at times? |
11889 | Excuse me, Sir; but is it likely, that he who makes so free with his GOD, will scruple any thing that may serve his turn with his fellow creature? |
11889 | For who is it that would not give these two admirable persons to each other, were not his morals an objection? |
11889 | Had she any money about her? |
11889 | Has she in it no reflecting hints? |
11889 | Have you heard of him? |
11889 | Have you seen it, Sir? |
11889 | He then turned to my mother, resolved to be even with her too: Where, good Madam, could Miss Howe get all this spirit? |
11889 | Her late husband could not stand in the matrimonial contention of Who should? |
11889 | Hickman!--Who can account for the workings and ways of a passionate and offended woman? |
11889 | His whole broad face lifted up at me: Spectacles!--What makes you ask me such a question? |
11889 | How came it over with you? |
11889 | How did she like the people of the house? |
11889 | How is it possible to imagine, that a woman, who has all these consolations to reflect upon, will die of a broken heart? |
11889 | I am surprised, Sir!----Then, after all, you do n''t think of marrying Miss Harlowe!----After the hard usage---- What hard usage, Mr. Hickman? |
11889 | I asked, if they thought the Harlowes deserved any consideration from me? |
11889 | I hope, Mr. Hickman, nobody questions mine neither? |
11889 | I pity him at my heart; but can do him no good.--What consolation can I give him, either from his past life, or from his future prospects? |
11889 | I proceeded-- Have you no commission to employ me in; deserted as you are by all your friends; among strangers, though I doubt not, worthy people? |
11889 | I think your name is Belford? |
11889 | If she would give herself these airs in his life- time, what would she attempt to do after his death? |
11889 | Indeed, I wish they had thought fit to take other measures with me: But who shall judge for them? |
11889 | Is it not better that you make it up? |
11889 | Is it not enough to be despised and rejected? |
11889 | Is it possible she can do herself, her family, her friends, so much justice any other way, as by marrying me? |
11889 | Is not my condition greatly mended? |
11889 | Is your name Clarissa Harlowe, Madam? |
11889 | It seems she was at first displeased; yet withdrew her objection: but, after a pause, asked them, What she should do? |
11889 | Ladies may persuade themselves to any thing: but how can she answer for what other men would or would not have done in the same circumstances? |
11889 | Lady S.| Ay, Sir, what say you to this? |
11889 | Let me know what you have heard, Mr. Hickman? |
11889 | Lord M. What say you, Sir, to this? |
11889 | Miss D''Oily, upon his complimenting her, among a knot of ladies, asked him, in their hearing, how Miss Clarissa Harlowe did? |
11889 | Miss SALLY ANDERSON,[ You have heard of her, no doubt?] |
11889 | More than is absolutely necessary for my own peace? |
11889 | Moreover, has she it not in her power to disappoint, as much as she has been disappointed? |
11889 | My Lord told me, that he believed in his conscience there was not a viler fellow upon God''s earth than me.--What signifies mincing the matter? |
11889 | My sister''s letter, communicating this grace, is a severe one: but as she writes to me as from every body, how could I expect it to be otherwise? |
11889 | O wretches; what a sex is your''s!--Have you all one dialect? |
11889 | Only, as these consequences follow one another so closely, while they are new, how can I help being anew affected? |
11889 | Or will she be here? |
11889 | Pray read on, my Lord-- I told you how you would all admire her----or, shall I read? |
11889 | Prison, friend!--What dost thou call thy house? |
11889 | Prisoner, Sirs!--What-- How-- Why-- What have I done? |
11889 | She asked how long it would be before they returned? |
11889 | She asked if Mabell should attend her, till it were seen what her friends would do for her in discharge of the debt? |
11889 | She asked if they knew Mr. Lovelace? |
11889 | She asked, what was meant by this usage of her? |
11889 | She seems to be a person of condition; and, ill as she is, a very fine woman.----A single lady, I presume? |
11889 | She then spied thy villain-- O thou wretch, said she, where is thy vile master?--Am I again to be his prisoner? |
11889 | Should I not have had a bill delivered me? |
11889 | Should there not? |
11889 | Should you like to be at liberty? |
11889 | The divine Clarissa, Lovelace,--reduced to rejoice for a cup of cold water!--By whom reduced? |
11889 | The latter placing a confidence, the former none, in her man?--Then, whom else have I robbed? |
11889 | The matter now!----Why Lady Betty has two letters from Miss Harlowe, which have told us what''s the matter----Are all women alike with you? |
11889 | Their antiquity always made me reverence them: And how was it possible that thou couldest not, for that reason, if for no other, give them a perusal? |
11889 | Then there are broad freedoms( shall I call them?) |
11889 | Then turning to the officer, Mr. Rowland I think your name is? |
11889 | Then who can write of good persons, and of good subjects, and be capable of admiring them, and not be made serious for the time? |
11889 | Then, if it were, Mr. Hickman, you think she would? |
11889 | There is a widow who lodges in it[ have I not said so formerly?] |
11889 | There, Jack!--Wilt thou, or wilt thou not, take this for a letter? |
11889 | This looks like conscience; do n''t it, Belford? |
11889 | This will save thy word; and, as to mine, can she think worse of me than she does at present? |
11889 | Thou toldest me, that my punishments were but beginning-- Canst thou, O fatal prognosticator, cans thou tell me, where they will end? |
11889 | Unthinking eye- governed creatures!--Would not a little reflection teach us, that a man of merit must be a man of modesty, because a diffident one? |
11889 | Was not her sin committed equally against warning and the light of her own knowledge? |
11889 | Was she not a prisoner? |
11889 | Was that the case? |
11889 | Was the Doctor my friend? |
11889 | We are told he would be glad to marry you: But why, then, did he abandon you? |
11889 | Well, Madam, said I, with as much philosophy as I could assume; and may I ask-- Pray, what was your Ladyship''s answer? |
11889 | Well, Madam; and pray, may I be favoured with the lady''s other letter? |
11889 | Well, Sir, and I suppose what you have to charge me with is, that I was desirous to have all that, without marriage? |
11889 | Well, Sir, and you have no objections to marriage, I presume, as the condition of that reconciliation? |
11889 | Well, but after all, what need of her history to these women? |
11889 | Well, but, Miss Harlowe, cried Sally, do you think these forlorn airs pretty? |
11889 | Were it but in kindness to the people? |
11889 | Were they civil to her? |
11889 | What a punishment should this come out to be, upon myself too, that all this while I have been plundering my own treasury? |
11889 | What a shame to talk at this rate!--Did the lady set up a contention with you? |
11889 | What child could die in peace under a parent''s curse? |
11889 | What could I have done with her in any other place? |
11889 | What do you take our opinion of happiness to be? |
11889 | What friends has the lady? |
11889 | What has the lady said? |
11889 | What have I to do with the world? |
11889 | What heart, thinkest thou, can I have to write, when I have lost the only subject worth writing upon? |
11889 | What is it she scruples, Mr. Hickman? |
11889 | What is the light, what the air, what the town, what the country, what''s any thing, without thee? |
11889 | What is the sum? |
11889 | What once a woman hopes, in love matters, she always hopes, while there is room for hope: And are we not both single? |
11889 | What reasons have you to fear this, Sir? |
11889 | What signifies what the potations were, when the same end was in view? |
11889 | What, Sir, said she, can I do? |
11889 | What, pray, have you farther heard? |
11889 | When I lie down, I say, When shall I arise? |
11889 | When will the night be gone? |
11889 | Where is that? |
11889 | Wherefore is light given to her that is in misery; and life unto the bitter in soul? |
11889 | Who at this instant, ill as she is, not only encourages, but, in a manner, makes court to one of the most odious dogs that ever was seen? |
11889 | Who can be admitted to a place in it after Miss Clarissa Harlowe? |
11889 | Who does? |
11889 | Who ever said an anchoret was poor? |
11889 | Who longeth for death; but it cometh not; and diggeth for it more than for hid treasures? |
11889 | Who will ridicule a personal imperfection in one that seems conscious, that it is an imperfection? |
11889 | Whom else have I injured? |
11889 | Why is light given to one whose way is hid; and whom God hath hedged in? |
11889 | Why may not handsome fellows, thought I, like to be looked at, as well as handsome wenches? |
11889 | Why now, Cousin Charlotte, chucking her under the chin, would you have me tell you all that has passed between the lady and me? |
11889 | Why then should it not be the pious Lovelace, as well as the pious à � neas? |
11889 | Why then, they asked, would she not write to her friends, to pay Mrs. Sinclair''s demand? |
11889 | Why these double locks and bolts all on the outside, none on the in? |
11889 | Why these iron- barred windows, then? |
11889 | Why wo n''t you send to your lodgings for linen, at least? |
11889 | Why, indeed, the people did not prove so good as they should be.--What farther have you heard? |
11889 | Why, you do n''t think of tarrying here always? |
11889 | Will I be any woman''s but her''s? |
11889 | Will Miss Howe permit me to explain myself in person to her, Mr. Hickman? |
11889 | Will not Mrs. Sinclair, proceeded she, think my clothes a security, till they can be sold? |
11889 | Will this, Mr. Hickman, answer any part of the intention of this visit? |
11889 | Will you give me leave, my dear, to close this subject with one remark? |
11889 | Will you not write to any of your friends? |
11889 | Will you then, Sir, compel me to be beholden to you? |
11889 | Wo n''t it strike out an intimacy between ye, that may enable thee to gratify me in this particular? |
11889 | Words are wind; but deeds are mind: What signifies your cursed quibbling, Bob?--Say plainly, if she will have you, will you have her? |
11889 | Would I not repair the evils I have made her suffer?'' |
11889 | Would I pretend to say, I would now marry the lady, if she would have me? |
11889 | Would not the look of every creature, who beheld me, appear as a reproach to me? |
11889 | Would she accept of any money? |
11889 | Would the pious à � neas, thinkest thou, have done such a piece of justice by Dido, had she lived? |
11889 | Would you have me and Miss Horton dine in this filthy bed- room? |
11889 | Yes, yes, indeed, ready to sink, my name was Clarissa Harlowe:--but it is now Wretchedness!----Lord be merciful to me, what is to come next? |
11889 | Yet do not honest protestants pronounce her pious too?--And call her particularly their Queen? |
11889 | Yet to forbid you to love the dear naughty creature, who can? |
11889 | You amaze me, Miss Martin!--What language do you talk in?--Bilk my lodgings?--What is that? |
11889 | You say her heart is half- broken: Is it to be wondered at? |
11889 | You see, Mr. Hickman, something of me.--Do you think I am in jest, or in earnest? |
11889 | You will allow, that a very faulty person may see his errors; and when he does, and owns them, and repents, should he not be treated mercifully? |
11889 | You would therefore heighten their severity, and make yourself enemies besides, if you were to come to me-- Don''t you see you would? |
11889 | Zounds, Jack, what shall I do now? |
11889 | and could the cursed devils of her own sex, who visited this suffering angel, see her, and leave her, in so d----d a nook? |
11889 | and do they know that their unkindness will perhaps shorten my date; so that their favour, if ever they intend to grant it, may come too late? |
11889 | and how much reason have I to say, If I justify myself, mine own heart shall condemn me: if I say I am perfect, it shall also prove me perverse?'' |
11889 | and to refuse admittance to those I like not? |
11889 | and would I not have re- instated myself in her favour upon her own terms, if I could? |
11889 | and,''Whether they brought to town from thence the young creature whom they visited?'' |
11889 | can you truly say that he is? |
11889 | for can they by their pity restore to me my lost reputation? |
11889 | for so long a time as you were at Mrs. Sinclair''s? |
11889 | had she those tricks already? |
11889 | men, what mean you? |
11889 | of encouraging another lover? |
11889 | to engage to transcribe for her some parts of my letters written to thee in confidence? |
11889 | was it not, my dear? |
11889 | what a fine time of it would the heads of families have? |
11889 | what would become of the peace of the world, if all women should take it into their heads to follow her example? |
11889 | why didst thou not urge her to explain what she once hoped? |
11889 | why push I so weak an adversary? |
11889 | with what indifference shall I look upon all the assembly at the Colonel''s, my beloved in my ideal eye, and engrossing my whole heart? |
12180 | ( briskly) And by what arguments, Sir, do you propose to prevail upon me? |
12180 | A fortnight, Sir? |
12180 | A pretty character for thee, is it not? |
12180 | A skilful physician? |
12180 | Afraid of what, Doctor? |
12180 | And I used to believe him too-- and yet, fond of life, and fearful of death, what do we do, when we are taken ill, but call ye in? |
12180 | And can indignities of any kind be properly pardoned till we have it in our power to punish them? |
12180 | And can this be the act of penitence? |
12180 | And did she send you such a letter? |
12180 | And had he been pardoned, would he not then have been at liberty to do as much mischief as ever? |
12180 | And how could Belton help that? |
12180 | And indeed, either openly or secretly, who has not? |
12180 | And now, Mrs. Smith, said I, where are your gloves? |
12180 | And now, what ought I to say? |
12180 | And should I think myself concerned for your fortune, and not for your honour? |
12180 | And then I read to them several passages in his letter, and asked what foundation she had for giving that fellow such impressions of either of us? |
12180 | And then add:] But were they ever so favourably inclined to me now, what can they do for me? |
12180 | And then recovering himself, with another stretch and a shake, What''s o''clock? |
12180 | And then would my brother, or my cousin Morden, have been more secure than now? |
12180 | And then, Sir, of what avail will be the''eulogies''you shall all, peradventure, join to give to her memory? |
12180 | And to what may this indifference be owing? |
12180 | And were you, Sir, thus earnest? |
12180 | And what are those of the ladies? |
12180 | And what do ye do, when called in, but nurse our distempers, till from pigmies you make giants of them? |
12180 | And what farther, in your opinion, can be done? |
12180 | And what follows? |
12180 | And what have I, more than many others, to answer for on this account in the world''s eye? |
12180 | And what is the difference of a few days to you, when I am gratified rather than discomposed by it? |
12180 | And what is to be the end of your interrogatories? |
12180 | And what must they be every time she turns her head towards it? |
12180 | And what, after all, would this lady deserve, if she has deceived me in this case? |
12180 | And what, pray, is the part I act, and my motives for it? |
12180 | And when he read to them that passage, where you ask Miss Howe,''What can be done for you now, were your friends to be ever so favourable? |
12180 | And where dost think this was? |
12180 | And who but ourselves can make out our characters, were you inclined to let any body see what passes between us? |
12180 | And who knows not that difficulty gives poignancy to our enjoyments; which are apt to lose their relish with us when they are over easily obtained? |
12180 | And who knows where it may yet end? |
12180 | And who, pray, is in this room? |
12180 | And why? |
12180 | And will he come? |
12180 | And will nothing make him serious? |
12180 | And yet go out again this morning early? |
12180 | And, as to you, Sir, she forgives you: she wishes you well; and happier than you will let her die in peace? |
12180 | Are not my days few? |
12180 | Are you not willing, Nephew, are you not most willing, to marry this lady, if she can be prevailed upon to have you? |
12180 | Are you reconciled to them? |
12180 | Are you sent for down? |
12180 | As soon as he discovers that that was only a stratagem to keep him away, he will come up, and who knows but even now he is upon the road? |
12180 | At last she broke silence, asking me, if you were really and indeed so ill as it was said you were? |
12180 | Brand really seems to be? |
12180 | Brother and sister so immovably fixed against the only means that could be taken to put all right with every body?--And what now can be done? |
12180 | But I am not merry-- I am sad!--Hey- ho!--Where shall I find my dear Miss Harlowe? |
12180 | But are there no hopes of her recovery? |
12180 | But did my cousin come purposely to town to see me? |
12180 | But do n''t you think there is something very favourable to my nephew in this letter-- something that looks as if the lady would comply at last? |
12180 | But have you, Sir, that letter of his in which he gives you( as I suppose he does) the copy of mine? |
12180 | But if he come, what shall I do about the screen? |
12180 | But let me ask you, Mr. Lovelace, what is the name of your friend, who is admitted so easily into my cousin''s presence? |
12180 | But my friends may possibly be better justified than the reporters-- For who knows what they may have heard? |
12180 | But since you are loth to answer my question directly, I will put it in other words-- You do n''t enjoin me to go into the air, Doctor, do you? |
12180 | But then what is my tumbling over and over through the floor into a frightful hole, descending as she ascends? |
12180 | But what accounting for it is necessary? |
12180 | But what are the black sweeping mantles and robes of Lord M. thrown over my face? |
12180 | But what do you bid me hope for, when you tell me that, if your mother''s health will permit, you will see me in town? |
12180 | But what is the meaning I hear nothing from thee? |
12180 | But what is this saying, when already I curse the whole world except her-- myself most? |
12180 | But what need the doctor to ask her leave to write to her friends? |
12180 | But what of that? |
12180 | But whither am I running? |
12180 | But who told this hard- hearted and death- pronouncing doctor that she will hold it no longer? |
12180 | But who, that has so many ludicrous images raised in his mind by the awkward penitence, can forbear laughing at thee? |
12180 | But whose is this? |
12180 | But why delay I thus my messenger? |
12180 | But why didst thou not comfort the poor man about the rencounter between him and that poltroon Metcalfe? |
12180 | But with some, indeed, every thing she does must be good, every thing I do must be bad-- And why? |
12180 | But, Jack, though thy uncle''s death has made thee a rich fellow, art thou sure that the making good of such a vow will not totally bankrupt thee? |
12180 | But, Sir, will you permit me to take with me these two letters? |
12180 | But, if you leave me-- what is the world, or any thing in it, to your ANNA HOWE? |
12180 | But, what shall we say? |
12180 | By what warrant says he this? |
12180 | Can I be above the man, Sir, to whom I shall give my hand and my vows, and with them a sanction to the most premeditated baseness? |
12180 | Can you, Sir, remind me of any thing necessary to be done or said to make your office easy? |
12180 | Col. Are you sure, Sir, that Mr. Belford is a man of honour? |
12180 | Col. High language, Mr. Lovelace? |
12180 | Col. Is it possible? |
12180 | Col. Let me put this question to you, Mr. Lovelace: Is it true, as I have heard it is, that you would marry my cousin, if she would have you? |
12180 | Col. Only this: that an officious pragmatical novice has been sent up to inquire into my cousin''s life and conversation: And, would you believe it? |
12180 | Col. What reason, Sir, may I ask, does she give, against listening to so powerful a mediation, and to such offers? |
12180 | Col. Who are you, Sir? |
12180 | Come, said she, what will you give me, and I''ll be as virtuous for a quarter of an hour, and mimic your Clarissa to the life? |
12180 | Confound me for a gaping puppy, how I yawn!--Where shall I begin? |
12180 | Could he not have done it without letting her know any thing of the matter? |
12180 | D----n the fellow, where''s thy penknife? |
12180 | D----n the fellow, why dost struggle thus? |
12180 | Dangerously ill, say you? |
12180 | Dear Mrs. Lovick, tell me what is become of her? |
12180 | Did you not see him? |
12180 | Do n''t you remember the lines of Howard, which once you read to me in my ivy- bower? |
12180 | Do not, my dear friend, be concerned that I call it my last stage; For what is even the long life which in high health we wish for? |
12180 | Do you know Mr. Belford, friend? |
12180 | Do you know me? |
12180 | Do you know who I am? |
12180 | Do you know your poor friend Belton? |
12180 | Except indeed we look forward to the rewards of HEREAFTER, which, morally, she must be sure of, or who can? |
12180 | For does she not brazen out her crime, even after detection? |
12180 | For how is it that I am the enemy of her soul, when I love her both soul and body? |
12180 | For may not the inclination my mother has given up be the effect of a too- fond indulgence, rather than that I merit the indulgence? |
12180 | Had I not, Mrs. Smith? |
12180 | Has any body been here from him? |
12180 | Has he not destroyed my fame and my fortune? |
12180 | Has he not punished me enough for my preference of him to all his sex? |
12180 | Has repented of all his baseness: And will nothing do? |
12180 | Has she had good attendance, Sir? |
12180 | Hast thou?--Answer me, man: Hast thou, or not? |
12180 | He was a fearless, cheerful fellow: who''d have thought all that should end in such dejected whimpering and terror? |
12180 | Here, Andrew,[ to her footman,] you want a pair of gloves, do n''t you? |
12180 | How can that be, widow? |
12180 | How can you think of such a thing, Mr. Belford? |
12180 | How could your accursed friend-- And how could her cruel parents? |
12180 | How familiarly dost thou use the words, dying, dimness, tremor? |
12180 | How long have I dozed? |
12180 | How so? |
12180 | How then can the fall of such a one create a proper distress, when all the circumstances of it are considered? |
12180 | How would you like, my dear, to have any of these things said? |
12180 | I am sure I should-- But pray, Sir, how did you leave them? |
12180 | I asked, if I should write to her cousin, as he knew not how ill she was, to hasten up? |
12180 | I asked, what it was they sold? |
12180 | I asked, what was intended by your brother and sister? |
12180 | I can not bear it!--What a dog, what a devil have I been to a goodness so superlative!--Why does she not inveigh against me? |
12180 | I demanded where their rappee was? |
12180 | I do, Sir; and what can I say more? |
12180 | I had but just dispatched your servant, and was asking her nurse if I might be again admitted? |
12180 | I have the honour to be nearly related to her.--Step up, pray, and let her know,( she is sensible, I hope,) that I am here-- Who is with her? |
12180 | I hesitated: For how could I answer for such a man? |
12180 | I looked about me, and above me; and told them I was very proud of my seat; asking, if John were ever permitted to fill this superb niche? |
12180 | I stept to him, and favoured his retreat; she only saying, Are you going, Mr. Belford? |
12180 | I will pay thee a good price, man: do n''t struggle thus? |
12180 | I would be glad to know how I am to take your''s? |
12180 | If he did not, I could not pass it over, though you have nearer relations; for, my dear Cousin, did not your grandfather leave me in trust for you? |
12180 | If she should die, how will all my pertnesses to her fly in my face!-- Why, why, did I ever vex her? |
12180 | If, Madam, your cousin Morden should come, you would be glad to see him, I presume? |
12180 | In which case, would not( on his acquittal, or pardon) resentments have been reciprocally heightened? |
12180 | Is it any merit to admire more than ever a lady who can so exaltedly distinguish? |
12180 | Is it because I was stung? |
12180 | Is it not Belford, pray? |
12180 | Is it not a little hard upon you, that these troubles should fall so thick to your lot? |
12180 | Is it not because the latter allow themselves in any liberty, in order to carry a point? |
12180 | Is it not just language? |
12180 | Is it you? |
12180 | Is my cousin come? |
12180 | Is she within? |
12180 | It is such a horrid thing to think of, that a man who had lived in such strict terms of-- what shall I call it? |
12180 | It may one day, who knows how soon? |
12180 | It opened with the dying man''s asking him, with melancholy earnestness, if nothing-- if nothing at all could be done for him? |
12180 | John hereupon put on a serious, and a less respectful face-- Sir, this house is mine; and-- And what, friend? |
12180 | Joseph, what said John to thee? |
12180 | Just then, turning my eye to the door, I saw a pretty, genteel lady, with a footman after her, peeping in with a What''s the matter, good folks? |
12180 | Let me, therefore, know( if you please) whether you are willing to appear to do yourself, and us, and your sex, this justice? |
12180 | Lord M. But what is all this, but more sacks upon the mill? |
12180 | Lord M. What the devil canst thou mean? |
12180 | Lord M.( interposing again, as we were both for going out,) And what will this do, gentlemen? |
12180 | Mowbray whispered me, What is the cause, Bobby?--Shall I take the gentleman to task for thee, my boy? |
12180 | Mowbray, is this acting like a friend by me, to suppose me incapable of answering for myself? |
12180 | Mrs. Smith standing next him, Why, said he, with great emotion, is my cousin suffered to indulge her sad reflections with such an object before her? |
12180 | Must bold creatures, and forward spirits, for ever, and by the best and wisest of us, as well as by the indiscreetest, be the most kindly treated? |
12180 | Nor ought you take it amiss, if you rightly weigh the matter: For, Sir, whom does a lady want protection against but her injurers? |
12180 | Now if he give you your life, does he not give, think you, a valuable consideration for the money you engage your honour to send him? |
12180 | Now, Jack, what can a man make of all this? |
12180 | Or how will injuries be believed to grieve us, that are never honourably complained of? |
12180 | Poor Lovelace!----What a devil ails thee? |
12180 | Pray, Sir, did she return an answer to this letter? |
12180 | Really, Sir, you take-- Great liberties I hope you would not say, Mrs. Smith? |
12180 | Shall I give thee a faint picture of the horrible uneasiness with which my mind struggles? |
12180 | Shall I go up, and see if Miss Harlowe be there, Mrs. Smith? |
12180 | Shall I, Madam, send my servant post with it? |
12180 | She asked, with great serenity, where you were? |
12180 | She is to send me a letter after she is in Heaven, is she? |
12180 | She said, Whither can I go, Mrs. Lovick? |
12180 | Should not every body that has any thing to bequeath make their will? |
12180 | Sir, replied the good woman, who should controul her? |
12180 | Sir? |
12180 | Smith.--Why should you? |
12180 | So, old acquaintance, how do you now? |
12180 | Suppose you kill one another, will the matter be bettered or worsted by that? |
12180 | Ten days?--A week?--How long, Sir? |
12180 | The Colonel, as Mrs. Smith told me afterwards, asked with great impatience, the moment he alighted, how Miss Harlowe was? |
12180 | The gin, the snare, the net, mean matrimony, I suppose-- But is it a crime in me to wish to marry her? |
12180 | The man whom once I could have loved, I have been enabled to despise: And shall not charity complete my triumph? |
12180 | The question is, if your life is not in the fellow''s power? |
12180 | The remedy I propose is a severe one: But what pain can be more severe than the injury? |
12180 | Then, why do good people take upon themselves to censure, as they do, persons less scrupulous than themselves? |
12180 | These the poets liken to''enamelling''--have you not read in the poets of''enamelled meads,''and so forth? |
12180 | This letter is very different from her preceding one!--You returned an answer to it, Mr. Lovelace? |
12180 | This made a trifling affair important: And what was the issue? |
12180 | Thou, perhaps, wilt ask, what honest man is obliged to keep his promise with a highwayman? |
12180 | Was I right, as to the first, Jack? |
12180 | We all remaining silent, the women having their aprons at their eyes, Why this concern for nothing at all? |
12180 | Well, and Mr. Belford wrote me word that she was exceeding ill. How then can she be gone out? |
12180 | Well, but my good dear Mrs. Smith, where is the lady gone? |
12180 | Well, with all my heart, said I:''tis not for us tradesmen to be saucy-- Is it, Mrs. Smith? |
12180 | What a devil will it signify talking, if thus you are to blow one another up at every word? |
12180 | What a step has he made me take to avoid him!--Who can touch pitch, and not be defiled? |
12180 | What can I say?--But why should not you know the truth? |
12180 | What can it be, Bob.? |
12180 | What canst earn a- day, man? |
12180 | What could Belford do for him? |
12180 | What could I say to an inference so fairly drawn? |
12180 | What do you sell, Sir? |
12180 | What makes you put this question? |
12180 | What must I save you from? |
12180 | What rooms have you to let? |
12180 | What say you, Mrs. Smith, to this? |
12180 | What signifies this transitory eclipse? |
12180 | What will that do for me? |
12180 | What would I give for one year of my past life?--only one year-- and to have the same sense of things that I now have? |
12180 | What''s the matter, my Lord? |
12180 | What, I wonder, has again happened between you and Mr. Hickman? |
12180 | What, but, as we go along, a life of apprehension, sometimes for our friends, oftener for ourselves? |
12180 | Where are they, if a customer shall come in? |
12180 | Where is her servant? |
12180 | Where is this new face? |
12180 | Where, where? |
12180 | Who could be otherwise? |
12180 | Who could have believe there could be parents so implacable? |
12180 | Who knows what may arise from his arrival? |
12180 | Who knows, as it would have come from an associate, and of an associate, it might have affected him? |
12180 | Who the devil could have expected such consequences as these? |
12180 | Whom do you guess me to be? |
12180 | Why so, Mrs. Smith? |
12180 | Why so, Sir? |
12180 | Why so, Sir? |
12180 | Why will he wish to interrupt me in my duty? |
12180 | Why will ye break a leaf driven to and fro? |
12180 | Why will ye pursue the dry stubble? |
12180 | Why will ye write bitter words against me, and make me possess the iniquities of my youth? |
12180 | Why, O why was she not before willing? |
12180 | Why, father Smith, thy wife is a wit, man!--Didst thou ever find that out before?--But where is widow Lovick, dame Smith? |
12180 | Will neither vows nor prayers save her? |
12180 | Will the lady be made happier or unhappier, do you think, by either or both of your deaths? |
12180 | Wilt thou forgive my troubling thee with such visionary stuff? |
12180 | Would any other woman think it so? |
12180 | Wouldst thou think that this varlet Mowbray is sorry that I am so near being happy with Miss Harlowe? |
12180 | You do n''t know, do you, Colonel, that Mr. Lovelace, at all our requests, is disposed to marry the lady? |
12180 | You do n''t look like a hard- hearted gentleman!--How can you thus hunt and persecute a poor lady, whom none of her relations will look upon? |
12180 | You do n''t tell me where she is? |
12180 | You have a young lady lodges here; Miss Harlowe, Madam: Is she above? |
12180 | You have seen what I wrote, no doubt? |
12180 | You never saw me before, did you? |
12180 | Your Lordship has been in Italy, I presume? |
12180 | Your intimacy, Sir, with Mr. Lovelace, and( may I say?) |
12180 | and when will she return? |
12180 | do I want wash- balls? |
12180 | do n''t be afraid-- How long, Sir? |
12180 | for the Lord hath rewarded thee: And why? |
12180 | how can it be? |
12180 | how would they set off one another, and be adorned by the wearer!-- Go to the devil!--I will write!--Can I do anything else? |
12180 | is your''s the new face? |
12180 | more coals upon the fire? |
12180 | or is she gone with Miss Harlowe too? |
12180 | said I, where''s thy pruning- knife? |
12180 | said I; save you from what? |
12180 | said he, what''s here? |
12180 | said he, with his hands and eyes lifted up, can I see her? |
12180 | said she; how kindly are you concerned for me!--Who says I am friendless? |
12180 | so thou wouldst, if thou hadst it on: but thou never wearest thy hat in thy wife''s presence, I believe; dost thou? |
12180 | turning his head this way and that; horror in his countenance; Did you not see him? |
12180 | what will he then think of the poor transitory gratifications of sense, which now engage all his attention? |
12180 | whither fled? |
9296 | ''But if she should be blameless, Madam, how does your own supposition condemn them?'' |
9296 | ''How will my son, how will my nephew, take this or that measure? |
9296 | ''Let me ask you, my dear, said she, how you now keep your account of the disposition of your time? |
9296 | ''What did the man mean, she wondered? |
9296 | ( But what have I done to myself, to make such a supposition?) |
9296 | ** What is it, as she says, that she has not sacrificed to peace?--Yet, has she by her sacrifices always found the peace she has deserved to find? |
9296 | --What could be the reading he has been said to be master of, to wonder, as he did, at these observations? |
9296 | --for who danced, who sung, who touched the string, whatever the instrument, with a better grace than thy friend? |
9296 | A value that can have no merit with the unhappy object of it, because it is attended with effects so grievous to her? |
9296 | A wrong head may be convinced, may have a right turn given it: but who is able to give a heart, if a heart be wanting? |
9296 | Again interrupted!--Am I to be questioned, and argued with? |
9296 | Am not I to live with the man? |
9296 | And do they not make use of your own generosity to oppress you? |
9296 | And even in this point you must be mistaken: For, would a prudent man wish to marry one who has not a heart to give? |
9296 | And have I any encouragement to follow too implicitly the example which my mother sets of meekness, and resignedness to the wills of others? |
9296 | And have you not before now said, that nothing is so penetrating as the eye of a lover who has vanity? |
9296 | And hence, Sir, retorted I, your unbrotherly reflections upon me? |
9296 | And how shall I look upon my awful judges? |
9296 | And how was this to be done, after such a declaration from both my uncles? |
9296 | And is it not your right? |
9296 | And is it you? |
9296 | And now, my dear, let me ask you, Have I come up to your expectation? |
9296 | And so I will, said she-- Did you not bewitch my grandfather? |
9296 | And so in the royal style( for am I not likely to be thy king and thy emperor in the great affair before us?) |
9296 | And so, Clary, it is nothing to him, or to me, is it, that our sister shall disgrace her whole family? |
9296 | And this, said I, is all I have to hope for from my Mamma? |
9296 | And what less did the world think of me now, he asked, than that I was confined that I might not? |
9296 | And what my motive, dost thou ask? |
9296 | And what was this, more than I had offered before? |
9296 | And what, Clary, mean you by that? |
9296 | And when that reason offers, is it not just to express one''s self accordingly? |
9296 | And while he has any, can we be easy or free from his insults? |
9296 | And who says Lovelace wants vanity? |
9296 | And who, besides, can bear to be made the dupe of such low cunning, operating with such high and arrogant passions? |
9296 | And why do n''t you go on, Clary? |
9296 | And why may I not think that I am now put upon a proper exercise of it? |
9296 | And why was it, do you think? |
9296 | And why? |
9296 | And will you give up nothing? |
9296 | And yet, my dear, this may be his usual manner of behaviour to our sex; for had not my sister at first all his reverence? |
9296 | And yet, why say I, I am half ashamed?--Is it not a glory to love her whom every one who sees her either loves, or reveres, or both? |
9296 | Are you in earnest? |
9296 | As to your question, Why your elder sister may not be first provided for? |
9296 | At last, I asked, if it were his pleasure that I should pour him out another dish? |
9296 | At worst, will he confine me prisoner to my chamber? |
9296 | Ay, Clary, put in my sister, what say you to Mr. Wyerley? |
9296 | Bless me, said I to myself, what a sister have I!--How have I deserved this? |
9296 | But I more wonder, how he came to have a notion of meeting me in this place? |
9296 | But I suppose then you will have no objection to see and converse, on a civil footing, with Mr. Solmes-- as your father''s friend, or so? |
9296 | But are not these orders a tacit confession, that they think his own merit will not procure him respect? |
9296 | But can it be, that such a lady, such a sister, such a wife, such a mother, has no influence in her own family? |
9296 | But do you think I will rob my sister of her humble servant? |
9296 | But does he not avow his passion? |
9296 | But how can you expect, when there must be a concession on one side, that it should be on theirs? |
9296 | But if I could not, how can you expect to prevail? |
9296 | But is it not a confounded thing to be in love with one, who is the daughter, the sister, the niece, of a family, I must eternally despise? |
9296 | But is it not a sad thing, I repeat, to be obliged to stand in opposition to the will of such a mother? |
9296 | But let me examine myself: Is not vanity, or secret love of praise, a principal motive with me at the bottom?--Ought I not to suspect my own heart? |
9296 | But now I think of it, suppose you are the reader at your pen than he-- You will make the more useful wife to him; wo n''t you? |
9296 | But pray, is not this estate our estate, as we may say? |
9296 | But supposing it to be true that all his vacant nightly hours are employed in writing, what can be his subjects? |
9296 | But that it could be for Solmes, how should it enter into my head? |
9296 | But then recollecting myself, is there not more in it, said I, than the result of a vein so naturally lively? |
9296 | But this is a point you will not permit me to expatiate upon: pardon me therefore, and I have done.--Yet, why should I say, pardon me? |
9296 | But was it not a little hard upon me, to be kept from blazing on a Sunday?--And to be hindered from my charitable ostentations? |
9296 | But what call you dutiful? |
9296 | But what is person, Clary, with one of your prudence, and your heart disengaged? |
9296 | But what shall I do with this Lovelace? |
9296 | But what then can I plead for a palliation to myself of my mother''s sufferings on my account? |
9296 | But where is Hannah? |
9296 | But whither roves my pen? |
9296 | But who can be worthy of a Clarissa? |
9296 | But whoever was in fault, self being judge? |
9296 | But will it be just, will it be honest, to marry a man I can not endure? |
9296 | But will not t''other man flame out, and roar most horribly, upon the snatching from his paws a prey he thought himself sure of? |
9296 | But''tis a cursed deceiver; for it has many a time imposed upon its master-- Master, did I say? |
9296 | But, Sir, if I am prepossessed, what has Mr. Solmes to hope for?--Why should he persevere? |
9296 | But, pray now-- is it saying so much, when one, who has no very particular regard to any man, says, there are some who are preferable to others? |
9296 | But, to pass that by-- so much engaged!--How much, my dear?--Shall I infer? |
9296 | But, why, dearest Madam, why am I, the youngest, to be precipitated into a state, that I am very far from wishing to enter into with any body? |
9296 | Can I be honest, if I give a hope that I can not confirm? |
9296 | Can not I speak with the poor girl? |
9296 | Can you think such usage, and to such a young lady, is to be borne? |
9296 | Can you wonder, then, that they should embrace the first opportunity that offered, to endeavour to bring you down to their level? |
9296 | Contrive it, did I say? |
9296 | Could any thing be pleasing to him, that you did not say or do? |
9296 | Could you, my dear, have shewn more spirit? |
9296 | Did not this deserve a severe return? |
9296 | Did not your father himself some days ago tell you, he would be obeyed? |
9296 | Did you think I could scold, my dear? |
9296 | Do I want any thing of any body for my own sake?--Does my brother John?--Well, then, Cousin Clary, what would you be at, as I may say? |
9296 | Do n''t you remember how he stared at the following trite observations, which every moralist could have furnished him with? |
9296 | Do you hear, sister Clary? |
9296 | Do you justify duelling at all? |
9296 | Do you so understand the license you have, Miss? |
9296 | Do you think they can use you worse than they do? |
9296 | Does he believe, that the disgrace which I supper on his account, will give him a merit with me? |
9296 | Does not his own sister live unhappily, for want of a little of his superfluities? |
9296 | Does that( pert cousin) make it out that he does not love you? |
9296 | Dreadful alternative-- But is not my sincerity, is not the integrity of my heart, concerned in the answer? |
9296 | For did you ever give up any thing? |
9296 | For me, do you mean, Clary? |
9296 | For must not each of you, by the constitutions of your family, marry to be still richer? |
9296 | Have I not made a very fair proposal as to Mr. Lovelace? |
9296 | Have I not told you there is no receding; that the honour as well as the interest of the family is concerned? |
9296 | Have we not all an interest in it, and a prior right, if right were to have taken place? |
9296 | Have you not refused as many as have been offered to you? |
9296 | Have you the least doubt about what must be the issue of this correspondence, if continued? |
9296 | He an honest man? |
9296 | He is allowed to be brave: Who ever knew a brave man, if a brave man of sense, an universally base man? |
9296 | His a good mind, Madam? |
9296 | How can I tell it you? |
9296 | How can you tell me your heart is free? |
9296 | How can your Anna Howe have such a thought?--What then shall we call it? |
9296 | How comes this man to know so well all our foibles? |
9296 | How dare a perverse girl take these liberties with relations so very respectable, and whom she highly respects? |
9296 | How many hours in the twenty- four do you devote to your needle? |
9296 | How many to letter- writing? |
9296 | How many to your prayers? |
9296 | How shall I stand the questions of some, the set surliness of others, the returning love of one or two? |
9296 | How so, I asked him, when that can not wound without the application? |
9296 | How then can she be so impenetrable? |
9296 | I am afraid you will condemn my warmth: But does not the occasion require it? |
9296 | I asked her once, if she were pleased with the tea? |
9296 | I asked him, If he valued himself upon having a head better turned than theirs for such works, as he called them? |
9296 | I besought her to stay: One favour, but one favour, dearest Madam, said I, give me leave to beg of you-- What would the girl? |
9296 | I made no reply; for what could I say? |
9296 | I must now go down, and make a report, that you are resolved never to have Mr. Solmes-- Must I?--Consider, my dear Miss Clary-- Must I? |
9296 | I was moving to go up-- And will you go up, Clary? |
9296 | I went on, supplicating for my mother''s favourable report: Nothing but invincible dislike, said I-- What would the girl be at, interrupted my mother? |
9296 | If it were, to whom could I appeal with effect against a husband? |
9296 | If you do, Madam, can you think confinement and ill usage is the way to prevent the apprehended rashness? |
9296 | If you really value me, as my friends would make me believe, and as you have declared you do, must it not be a mean and selfish value? |
9296 | If your estate is convenient for him, what then? |
9296 | Is any body else? |
9296 | Is it you, my meek sister Clary? |
9296 | Is my presence an exception to the bold creature? |
9296 | Is she not for ever obliged( as she was pleased to hint to me) to be of the forbearing side? |
9296 | Is the want of reward, or the want even of a grateful acknowledgement, a reason for us to dispense with what we think our duty? |
9296 | It is needless to say any thing to you, who have so sincere any antipathy to him, to strengthen your dislike: Yet, who can resist her own talents? |
9296 | It was rather a mark of his affection, than any advantage to me: For, do I either seek or wish to be independent? |
9296 | It would be an affront to your own judgment, if you did not: For do you not ask my advice? |
9296 | Let me ask you, child, if you will give your pretty proposal in writing? |
9296 | May I be permitted to mention an expedient?--''If I am to be watched, banished, and confined; suppose, Sir, it were to be at your house?'' |
9296 | May I not see the honest creature, and pay her her wages? |
9296 | May I, Madam, be permitted to expostulate?-- To what purpose expostulate with me, Clarissa? |
9296 | May not my everlasting happiness be the sacrifice? |
9296 | May not this strange method rather harden than convince? |
9296 | May not, however, so deep a sufferer be permitted to speak out? |
9296 | My extravagancies, Bella!--But did my father ever give me any thing he did not give you? |
9296 | No, not to Miss Howe, Madam, tauntingly: for have you not acknowledged, that Lovelace is a favourite there? |
9296 | Norton!--[You may guess who said this] Will she, or will she not, comply with her parents''will? |
9296 | Not to Miss Howe? |
9296 | Now seest thou not, how many good ends this contrivance answers? |
9296 | O Madam, what can I say to questions so indulgently put? |
9296 | O thou determined girl!--But say-- Speak out-- Are you resolved to stand in opposition to us all, in a point our hearts are set upon? |
9296 | Pray, my dear, be so good as to tell me, What man of a great and clear estate would think of that eldest sister, while the younger were single? |
9296 | Pretty mopsy- eyed soul!--was her expression!--And was it willing to think it had still a brother and sister? |
9296 | Shall I conduct your Ladyship down? |
9296 | Shall I not therefore be allowed to judge for myself, whether I can, or can not, live happily with him? |
9296 | Shall I, Clary, said she, shall I tell your father that these prohibitions are as unnecessary as I hoped they would be? |
9296 | She asked me, upon my turning from her, if she should not say any thing below of my compliances? |
9296 | She desired to be informed, in the name of every body, was her word, what I was determined upon? |
9296 | She owned, that the man was not the most desirable of men; and that he had not the happiest appearance: But what, said she, is person in a man? |
9296 | She, kindly saluting me, said, Why this distance to your aunt, my dear, who loves you so well? |
9296 | Should it be ever so unhappily, will it be prudence to complain or appeal? |
9296 | Should not one fly the man who is but suspected of such a one? |
9296 | Should not they make a common cause of it, as I may say, a cause of sex, on such occasions as the present? |
9296 | So I shall suffer: And in what will the rash man have benefited himself, or mended his prospects? |
9296 | So turning from me, she spoke with quickness, Whither now, Clary Harlowe? |
9296 | So we think, whatever you think: and whose thoughts are to be preferred? |
9296 | Solmes?--Rather than give me hope? |
9296 | Solmes?--Will not that refusal be to give him hope? |
9296 | Tell me why you call it a reflection?--What did I say? |
9296 | Tell me, Bella, if my mamma will condescend to see me? |
9296 | Tell me, Clary, and tell me truly-- Do you not continue to correspond with Mr. Lovelace? |
9296 | That you know your duty, and will not offer to controvert his will? |
9296 | The good woman asked, Whether she was permitted to expostulate with them upon the occasion, before she came up to me? |
9296 | The object so meritorious, who can doubt the reality of his professions? |
9296 | Then addressing himself to me: And how do you find it, Miss? |
9296 | Then he will always be in expectation while you are single: and we are to live on at this rate( are we?) |
9296 | Then you do n''t think him so? |
9296 | This was not ungenerously said: But what will not these men say to obtain belief, and a power over one? |
9296 | Thou art a provoking creature-- But what say you to two or three duels of that wretch''s? |
9296 | Thou art curious to know, if I have not started a new game? |
9296 | Thus are my imputed good qualities to be made my punishment; and I am to wedded to a monster--[ Astonishing!--Can this, Clarissa, be from you? |
9296 | Was not this very intimidating, my dear? |
9296 | Was not this very spiteful, my dear? |
9296 | We all, indeed, once thought your temper soft and amiable: but why was it? |
9296 | Well but, methinks you say, what is all this to the purpose? |
9296 | Were even your brother in fault, as that fault can not be conquered, is a sister to carry on a correspondence that shall endanger her brother? |
9296 | What a name have you got, at a less expense? |
9296 | What an unhappy situation is that which obliges her, in her own defence as it were, to expose their failings? |
9296 | What can I do, Madam?--What can I do? |
9296 | What can I do? |
9296 | What can I say? |
9296 | What could I do but weep? |
9296 | What did I think of Mr. Wyerley? |
9296 | What did you do, that we did not endeavour to do?--And what was all this for? |
9296 | What encouragement for duty is this?--Have I not loved her as well as ever you did? |
9296 | What excuse can be made for his haughty and morose temper? |
9296 | What is the matter with Hannah? |
9296 | What is to follow? |
9296 | What must have been her treatment, to be thus subjugated, as I may call it? |
9296 | What must that cause be that will not bear being argued upon? |
9296 | What must we think of any one of it, who would not promote the good of the whole? |
9296 | What reason then, ungenerous girl, can you have for arguing with me thus, but because you think from my indulgence to you, you may? |
9296 | What say you, my love? |
9296 | What shall I get by it, let things go as they will? |
9296 | What then is this narrow selfishness that reigns in us, but relationship remembered against relationship forgot? |
9296 | What think you was the return? |
9296 | What tho''his mighty soul his grief contains? |
9296 | What will he say to it? |
9296 | What would you say, were I to treat you as Miss Harlowe''s father and mother treat her? |
9296 | What''s all that to an estate in possession, and left you with such distinctions, as gave you a reputation of greater value than the estate itself? |
9296 | What, Madam, to give him hope?--To give hope to Mr. Solmes? |
9296 | What, Miss, will you please to have for breakfast? |
9296 | What, but ringing my changes upon the same bells, and neither receding nor advancing one tittle? |
9296 | What, is this you? |
9296 | What, my dear, if her meekness should not be rewarded? |
9296 | What, think you, makes me bear Hickman near me, but that the man is humble, and knows and keeps his distance? |
9296 | When I returned, my uncle Antony asked me, how I should like Mr. Lovelace? |
9296 | When so little ceremony is made with me, why should I not speak out?--Did he not seek to kill the other, if he could have done it? |
9296 | When your grandfather left his estate to you, though his three sons, and a grandson, and your elder sister, were in being, we all acquiesced: and why? |
9296 | Who can command or foresee events? |
9296 | Who can not esteem him? |
9296 | Who told you Mr. Solmes can not read and write? |
9296 | Who, indeed, as you say, if this be so, would marry, that can live single? |
9296 | Who, that has once trespassed with them, ever recovered his virtue? |
9296 | Why not? |
9296 | Why should I be deprived of all comfort, but that which the hope that it would be a very short one, would afford me? |
9296 | Why should not there be something in blood in the human creature, as well as in the ignobler animals? |
9296 | Why will these wise parents, by saying too much against the persons they dislike, put one upon defending them? |
9296 | Why, I pray you, good Sir, should I be made miserable for life? |
9296 | Why, Niece, if there be not any such hopes, I presume you do n''t think yourself absolved from the duty due from a child to her parents? |
9296 | Why, as I often say to myself, was such a man as this Solmes fixed upon? |
9296 | Will he bear, do you think, to be thus dialogued with? |
9296 | Will he deny me the visits of my dearest friend, and forbid me to correspond with her? |
9296 | Will he set a servant over me, with license to insult me? |
9296 | Will he take from me the mistressly management, which I had not faultily discharged? |
9296 | Will not the least shadow of the hope you just now demanded from me, be driven into absolute and sudden certainty? |
9296 | Will not what I have offered be accepted? |
9296 | Will she, or will she not, be Mrs. Solmes? |
9296 | Will you forgive me; and let me find a sister in you, as I am sorry, if you had reason to think me unsisterly in what I have said? |
9296 | Will you go down, and humble that stubborn spirit of yours to your mamma? |
9296 | Would you have me, Madam, make him desperate? |
9296 | Wyerley''s again?--or whose? |
9296 | Yet tell me, are your affections engaged to this man? |
9296 | Yet what did you say, that we could not have said? |
9296 | Yet why should Shorey( except officiously to please her principals) make a report in his disfavour? |
9296 | You are going to question me, I suppose, why your sister is not thought of for Mr. Solmes? |
9296 | You ask, Why may not your brother be first engaged in wedlock? |
9296 | You know your father has made it a point; and did he ever give up one he thought he had a right to carry? |
9296 | Your aunt Hervey, you say,* has told you: Why must I ask you to let me know them, when you condescend to ask my advice on the occasion? |
9296 | [ Are not all estates stewardships, my dear?] |
9296 | [ bristling up to me]--Tell me what you mean by that reflection? |
9296 | [ changing her sneering tone to an imperious one] But do you think you can humble yourself to go down to your mamma? |
9296 | [ following me, and taking my struggling hand] What? |
9296 | let me repeat: Is that a small point, my dear Uncle, to give up? |
9296 | my love!--But what shall we do about the terms Mr. Solmes offers? |
9296 | not vouchsafe to answer me? |
9296 | repeated my aunt-- So, Miss Clary, I see how it is-- I will go down--[Miss Harlowe, shall I follow you?] |
9296 | that gave it you before us all?--Well then, ought we not to have a choice who shall have it in marriage with you? |
9296 | turn your back upon me too!--Shall I bring up your mamma to you, love? |
9296 | when I love you, as never woman loved another? |
9296 | when your concerns are my concerns? |
9296 | when your honour is my honour? |
9296 | who can be patient under such treatment? |
11364 | ''Why was such a woman as this thrown into my way, whose very fall will be her glory, and, perhaps, not only my shame but my destruction? |
11364 | ''Yet already have I not gone too far? |
11364 | * And was not cohabitation ever my darling view? |
11364 | * But would I not have avoided it, if I could? |
11364 | *** And what is all this wild incoherence for? |
11364 | *** Where, Lovelace, can the poor lady be gone? |
11364 | --If I am in a violent passion upon the detection, is not passion an universally- allowed extenuator of violence? |
11364 | --In which I demonstrated the conveniencies, and obviated the inconveniencies, of changing the present mode to this? |
11364 | --Yet what name else can I? |
11364 | A stranger, as I hope to be saved, to the principal arts of your sex!-- Once more, what a devil has your heart to do in your eyes? |
11364 | Am I as hateful to you as the vile Solmes? |
11364 | Am I not ready to make you all the reparation that I can make you? |
11364 | And also, if you have heard of any journey, or intended journey, of my brother, in company with Captain Singleton and Mr. Solmes? |
11364 | And am I, Sir, to be thus beset?--Surrounded thus?--What have these women to do with me? |
11364 | And am not I a smuggler too? |
11364 | And are they not both every whit as culpable? |
11364 | And are you sure you are now out of his reach? |
11364 | And can I have taken all this pains for nothing? |
11364 | And can not our fraternity in an hundred instances give proof of the like predominance of vice over virtue? |
11364 | And do n''t you know who gave it to her? |
11364 | And do you think that I would have given my consent to my imprisonment in it? |
11364 | And does he not enjoin us works of mercy to one another, as the means to obtain his mercy? |
11364 | And for how long? |
11364 | And for what should her heart be broken? |
11364 | And from what? |
11364 | And have I any other resource left me? |
11364 | And her punishment, as she calls it, is over: but when mine will, or what it may be, who can tell? |
11364 | And how should we be convinced that any of them are proof till they are tried? |
11364 | And if I do think thee so, have I not cause? |
11364 | And if they were cheerful on the anniversary occasion? |
11364 | And imaginest thou, fairest, thought I, that this will go down with a Lovelace? |
11364 | And is this amiable doctrine the sum of religion? |
11364 | And is this the answer thou returnest me? |
11364 | And must not my next step be an irretrievable one, tend it which way it will? |
11364 | And need I go throw the sins of her cursed family into the too- weighty scale? |
11364 | And now what thinkest thou must become of the lady, whom LOVE itself gives up, and CONSCIENCE can not plead for? |
11364 | And that we have risked more to serve and promote the interests of the former, than ever a good man did to serve a good man or a good cause? |
11364 | And what dost thou think it is? |
11364 | And what is it that I demand, that I have not a right to, and from which it is an illegal violence to withhold me? |
11364 | And what is that injury which a church- rite will not at any time repair? |
11364 | And what sayest thou now to my dream? |
11364 | And what will be my subject thinkest thou? |
11364 | And what will withhold a jealous and already- ruined woman? |
11364 | And what, Madam, meant you by your promise? |
11364 | And what, Sir, said she, with an air of authority, would you commit errors, and expect to be rewarded for them? |
11364 | And who can describe the distress she must be in? |
11364 | And who, thinkest thou, is my cousin Montague? |
11364 | And will she not want the crown of her glory, the proof of her till now all- surpassing excellence, if I stop short of the ultimate trial? |
11364 | And wo n''t this be doing a kind thing by them? |
11364 | And yet why say I completed? |
11364 | Answer me, Madam-- Did you mean any thing in my favour by your promise? |
11364 | Are you recovered of your illness? |
11364 | Arriving here in an instant, the first word I asked, was, If the lady was safe? |
11364 | As to the man you have lost, is an union with such a perjured heart as his, with such an admirable one as your''s, to be wished for? |
11364 | Astonishing, my dear, that you should suspect them!--But, knowing your strange opinion of them, what can I say to be believed? |
11364 | At this rate of romancing, how many flourishing ruins dost thou, as well as I, know? |
11364 | But again let me ask, Does this lady do right to make herself ill, when she is not ill? |
11364 | But as to the arms and crest upon the coach and trappings? |
11364 | But do not physicians prescribe opiates in acute cases, where the violence of the disorder would be apt to throw the patient into a fever or delirium? |
11364 | But dost think, Jack, that I in the like case( and equally affected with the distress) should have acted thus? |
11364 | But for the time she should stay in these parts, she would come up every night-- What say you, niece Charlotte? |
11364 | But have you really and truly sold yourself to him? |
11364 | But how know I, that I have not made my own difficulties? |
11364 | But how was it possible, that even that florid countenance of his should enable him to command a blush at his pleasure? |
11364 | But if I should, Jack,( with the strongest antipathy to the state that ever man had,) what a figure shall I make in rakish annals? |
11364 | But if not, what shall I say severe enough, that you have not answered either of my last letters? |
11364 | But is Thursday, the 29th, her uncle''s anniversary, methinks thou askest? |
11364 | But is not that equivocation? |
11364 | But it is not so, I plainly see: For, who can acknowledge with more justice this dear creature''s merits, and his own errors, than I? |
11364 | But know you where my lady is? |
11364 | But say, are you really ill, as a vile, vile creature informs me you are? |
11364 | But seest thou not that I am under a necessity to continue her at Sinclair''s and to prohibit all her correspondencies? |
11364 | But tell me, of a truth, is Miss Howe really and truly ill?--Very ill?- And is not her illness poison? |
11364 | But that must all be forgotten now-- How do you, my Hannah? |
11364 | But thinkest thou that, after such a series of contrivance, I will lose this inimitable woman for want of a little more? |
11364 | But thinkest thou, that I will give a harlot niece to thy honourable uncle, and to thy real aunts; and a cousin to thy cousins from a brothel? |
11364 | But this must be the last debate on this subject; for is not her fate in a manner at its crisis? |
11364 | But thou hast-- and lain with her too; or fame does thee more credit than thou deservest-- Why, Jack, knowest thou not Lady Betty''s other name? |
11364 | But to no purpose.--May she not thank herself for all that may follow? |
11364 | But to what purpose have I gone thus far, if I pursue not my principal end? |
11364 | But what can I do? |
11364 | But what shall I do, if my father can not be prevailed upon to recall his malediction? |
11364 | But who would have thought there had been such a woman in the world? |
11364 | But woe be to them, if---- Yet what will vengeance do, after an insult committed? |
11364 | But, if she will keep back her hand, if she will make me hold out mine in vain, how can I help it? |
11364 | Can I have a better? |
11364 | Can this particular story, which this girl hints at, be that of Lucy Villars? |
11364 | Could not Morrison bring up the box? |
11364 | Could the divine SOCRATES, and the divine CLARISSA, otherwise have suffered? |
11364 | Could you have thought there was a woman in the world who could thus express herself, and yet be vile? |
11364 | Did I never show thee a scheme which I drew up on such a notion as this? |
11364 | Did Mr. Solmes ever do vilely by me? |
11364 | Did you mean any thing in my favour, Madam?--Did you intend that I should think you did? |
11364 | Do n''t you think him so, Madam? |
11364 | Do we not then see, that an honest prowling fellow is a necessary evil on many accounts? |
11364 | Do you come from Miss Howe? |
11364 | Do you expect any voluntary favour from one to whom you give not a free choice? |
11364 | Do you intend, Madam, to honour me with your hand, in your uncle''s presence, or do you not? |
11364 | Do you know, do you see, my dearest life, what appearances your causeless apprehensions have given you?--Do you know it is past eleven o''clock? |
11364 | Do you live with Miss Howe? |
11364 | Do you think yourself in my power, Madam? |
11364 | Do you think, Madam, that I fear the law? |
11364 | Does he not see that he has journeyed on to this stage, with one determined point in view from the first? |
11364 | Does she not show me that she can wilfully deceive, as well as I? |
11364 | Dost thou ask, What I meant by this promise? |
11364 | Dost thou know my right name, friend? |
11364 | Dost thou not know that a Blunt''s must supply her, while her own is new lining and repairing? |
11364 | Dost thou thus evade my question? |
11364 | Durst ever see a license, Jack? |
11364 | For have we not been prodigal of life and fortune? |
11364 | For here( wouldst thou have thought it?) |
11364 | For what an odd soul must she be who could not have her twelvemonth''s trial? |
11364 | For what? |
11364 | For whom has she to receive and protect her? |
11364 | For why? |
11364 | Forgive you, my dear!--Most cordially do I forgive you-- Will you forgive me for some sharp things I wrote in return to your''s of the 5th? |
11364 | Good Lovelace, let me go to Mrs. Leeson''s? |
11364 | HER''S, or MINE? |
11364 | Had they not, Jack? |
11364 | Have I not told you, that my beloved is a great observer of the eyes? |
11364 | Have I not tried every other method? |
11364 | Have I offered any new injury to you, my dearest life? |
11364 | Have you, Madam, any reliance upon my honour? |
11364 | He asked if she had any partiklar message? |
11364 | He pulled the string-- What need to have come this way? |
11364 | Here I made an hesitating effort to speak, laying down my pen: but she proceeded!--Hear me out, guilty wretch!--abandoned man!--Man, did I say? |
11364 | Hitherto she is all angel: and was not that the point which at setting out I proposed to try? |
11364 | How came the dear soul,( clothed as it is with such a silken vesture,) by all its steadiness? |
11364 | How came you here in this? |
11364 | How do you? |
11364 | How else can I leave you? |
11364 | How often have I known opposition not only cement friendship, but create love? |
11364 | How shall I satisfy you for this kind trouble? |
11364 | How the devil can this be? |
11364 | How then, as I asked her, could I comply, without resolving to lose her for ever? |
11364 | How will you trust to it, if you extort an answer to this question? |
11364 | I axed master, if soe bee he knowed sitch a man as one Captain Tomlinson? |
11364 | I do say, if she come fairly at her lights, at her clues, or what shall I call them? |
11364 | I have lost it again-- This foolish wench comes teasing me-- for what purpose should I eat? |
11364 | I hope Miss Howe is well? |
11364 | I know what you mean, Madam-- Am I then as hateful to you as the vile Solmes? |
11364 | I only asked, What was his business, and who he came from? |
11364 | I repeat, therefore, Am I now at liberty to dispose of myself as I please? |
11364 | I will study for it---- Suppose I suffer her to make an escape? |
11364 | If I go not down to Mr. Hall, Madam, you''ll have no scruple to stay here, I suppose, till Thursday is over? |
11364 | If it be not that,[ and yet what power should her guardian angel have over me?] |
11364 | If these postulata be granted me, who, I pray, can equal my charmer in all these? |
11364 | If thou sayest, it is, however, wrong to do so; I reply, that it is nevertheless human nature:--And wouldst thou not have me to be a man, Jack? |
11364 | If you are, do you choose to come and be with me? |
11364 | Indeed has not at all forgiven me? |
11364 | Is a fancied distress, sufficient to justify this lady for dispensing with her principles? |
11364 | Is her''s, I pray you, a right sort of love? |
11364 | Is it love at all? |
11364 | Is it not wonderful? |
11364 | Is not every man and woman obliged to excuse that fault in another, which at times they find attended with such ungovernable effects in themselves? |
11364 | Is not this the crisis for which I have been long waiting? |
11364 | Is she not? |
11364 | Is this, my dear, preparative to the conversation you led me to expect in the dining- room? |
11364 | It is this: Whether you know any such man as Captain Tomlinson? |
11364 | Let go my hand, Sir-- Take away your arm from about me,[ struggling, yet trembling,]--Why do you gaze upon me so? |
11364 | Let me ask you, Madam, What meant you, when you said,''that, were it not a sin, you would die before you gave me that assurance?'' |
11364 | Let me only know, Madam, if your promise to endeavour to wait with patience the event of next Thursday meant me favour? |
11364 | May I not be able to prevail upon him to leave me at my liberty? |
11364 | May I trust to it?--Say only may I trust to it? |
11364 | May not the evil I know be less than what I may fall into, if I can avoid farther villany? |
11364 | Moreover, what a multitude of domestic quarrels would be avoided, where such a scheme carried into execution? |
11364 | Mrs. Moore''s, Madam!--I have no objection to Mrs. Moore''s-- but will you give me your promise, to admit me there to your presence? |
11364 | Must she not live? |
11364 | My dearest creature, said the vile man, gasping, as it were for breath, you shall not alight-- Any letters for me, Dorcas? |
11364 | Nay, how should I know? |
11364 | Noblest of creatures!--And do you think I can leave you, and my interest in such an excellence, precarious? |
11364 | Now, Jack, what terms wouldst thou have me to keep with such a sweet corruptress? |
11364 | Once more I ask thee, Am I, or am I not, at my own liberty now? |
11364 | Or can you conveniently? |
11364 | Or, why was this singular one to fall to my lot? |
11364 | Other name!--Has she two? |
11364 | Pray acquaint me, if they have been there? |
11364 | Pray, Madam, whipping between her and the street- door, be pleased to let me know where you are going? |
11364 | Right sort of love!--A puppy!--But, with due regard to your deityship, said I, what merits has she with YOU, that you should be of her party? |
11364 | Say only, dearest creature, say only, may I trust to your favour, if you go to Hampstead? |
11364 | Seest thou not how she hates me? |
11364 | Seest thou not that she is resolved never to forgive me? |
11364 | Seest thou not, however, that she must disgrace herself in the eye of the world, if she actually should escape? |
11364 | Several weeks past, I should say; ever since I have been with thee? |
11364 | Shall I tell thee my project? |
11364 | She purposes to return to Hampstead as soon as I am gone-- My dear, will you not have a servant to attend you? |
11364 | She put it close to me, Whether I had not corresponded with you from the time of your going away? |
11364 | She refused me her hand!--Was she wise, Jack, to confirm to me, that nothing but terror would do? |
11364 | She so affrights me, when I see her!--Ever since-- when was it? |
11364 | Should he call the next day? |
11364 | Suppose Dorcas should drop the promissory note given her by her lady? |
11364 | Tell me, ungrateful devil, tell me who made the first advances? |
11364 | The brute, or the lady? |
11364 | The coachman stopped: his servant, who, with one of her''s was behind, alighted-- Ask, said he, if I have any letters? |
11364 | The red- hot iron she refuses to strike-- O why will she suffer the yielding wax to harden? |
11364 | The whole sex is indeed wounded by you: For, who but Miss Clarissa Harlowe was proposed by every father and mother for a pattern for their daughters? |
11364 | The would not the distinction be very pretty, Jack? |
11364 | Thou hast seen Lady Betty Lawrance several times-- hast thou not, Belford? |
11364 | To endeavour, Sir, to make myself easy-- were the words---- Till you saw what next Thursday would produce? |
11364 | To prostitute the characters of persons of honour of thy own family-- and all to delude a poor creature, whom thou oughtest-- But why talk I to thee? |
11364 | To what purpose did I ask her consent, if she had not a power over either her own person or actions? |
11364 | Wallis? |
11364 | Was he one of Lovelace''s creatures too!-- Could nobody come near me but that man''s confederates, either setting out so, or made so? |
11364 | Was it necessary to humble me down to the low level of thy baseness, before I could be a wife meet for thee? |
11364 | Was she not talking with you this moment? |
11364 | Was you ordered to wait for an answer? |
11364 | Well, but, after all[ how many after- all''s have I?] |
11364 | Were I to be sure that this foundation is laid[ And why may I not hope it is?] |
11364 | What a d--- l I moves you, to plead thus earnestly for a rebel, who despises your power? |
11364 | What amends can such a one as thou make to a person of spirit, or common sense, for the evils thou hast so inhumanely made me suffer? |
11364 | What answer, Mrs. Margaret, did you give the man, upon his asking for Mrs. Harriot Lucas? |
11364 | What can she do but rave and exclaim? |
11364 | What can this mean!--Who was the messenger you sent? |
11364 | What could I say to such a question? |
11364 | What defence, indeed, could there be against so determined a wretch, after you was in his power? |
11364 | What duration is your reign to have? |
11364 | What have I done to merit so much goodness, who never saw your Lordship in my life?] |
11364 | What have you to say to me? |
11364 | What is it she ought not to expect from an unchained Beelzebub, and a plotting villain? |
11364 | What is she afraid of? |
11364 | What is thy business? |
11364 | What is your business with me, friend? |
11364 | What is your business, friend, with Mrs. Harry Lucas? |
11364 | What nonsense then to suppose that such a mere notional violation as she has suffered should be able to cut asunder the strings of life? |
11364 | What redress lies for a perpetuated evil? |
11364 | What right have you to detain me here? |
11364 | What right have you to stop me, as you lately did; and to bring me up by force, my hands and arms bruised by your violence? |
11364 | What say you, cousin Lovelace? |
11364 | What though the presence of a fine lady would require a different behaviour, are you not of years to dispense with politeness? |
11364 | What vestigia, what remembrances, but such as will inspire abhorrence of the attempter? |
11364 | What will you do for clothes, Madam? |
11364 | What will you do for money, Madam? |
11364 | What, he asks, is the injury which a church- rite will not at any time repair? |
11364 | What, said she, would you have me do? |
11364 | When settest thou out for the Isle of Wight, love? |
11364 | Whence, Jack, can this be? |
11364 | Where will she mend herself? |
11364 | Wherefore then should grief sadden and distort such blythe, such jocund, features as mine? |
11364 | Whether her virtue be principle? |
11364 | Whether, if once subdued, she will not be always subdued? |
11364 | Whether, in a word, you intend to hinder me from going where my destiny shall lead me? |
11364 | Whither, Madam, do you design to go when you get out of this house? |
11364 | Who has a right to controul me? |
11364 | Who now shall provide the nuptial ornaments, which soften and divert the apprehensions of the fearful virgin? |
11364 | Who says that, sleeping and waking, I have not fine helps from somebody, some spirit rather, as thou''lt be apt to say? |
11364 | Who the devil could have expected such strange effects from a cause so common and so slight? |
11364 | Who therefore so fit for an example to the rest of her sex? |
11364 | Whose regret, at times, can be deeper than mine, for the injuries I have done her? |
11364 | Why all these exclamations? |
11364 | Why all this extravagant passion? |
11364 | Why am I to be thus detained against my will? |
11364 | Why did I not send for their coach, as I had intimated? |
11364 | Why do you call Mr. Solmes vile? |
11364 | Why hesitate you, Sir? |
11364 | Why should I seek to conceal that disgrace from others which I can not hide from myself? |
11364 | Why should I? |
11364 | Why then should this enervating pity unsteel my foolish heart? |
11364 | Why then were there not more examples of a virtue so immovable? |
11364 | Why this terror, my life? |
11364 | Why will she make it necessary for me to bring Lady Betty and my cousin to my assistance? |
11364 | Why, Mr. Lovelace, must I be determined by your motions?--Think you that I will voluntarily give a sanction to the imprisonment of my person? |
11364 | Why, why, thought I, as I did several times in this conversation, will she not generously forgive me? |
11364 | Will it not be rather surmised, that she may be apprehensive that some weakness, or lurking love, will appear upon the trial of the strange cause? |
11364 | Will not Col. Morden, as her trustee, put her in possession of it? |
11364 | Will not the consequence of your departure hence be that I shall lose you for ever, Madam?--And can I bear the thoughts of that? |
11364 | Will you eat, or drink, friend? |
11364 | Will you take Dorcas? |
11364 | With what face can I take upon me to reproach a want of prudence in her? |
11364 | Would I dare, she asked me, to offer at a palliation of my baseness? |
11364 | Would she be pleased to assure me that she would stay here only till Tuesday morning? |
11364 | Yet is she not haughty?] |
11364 | Yet what does even my success in my machinations bring me but regret, disgrace, repentance? |
11364 | You are Mrs. Harriot Lucas, I suppose, Madam? |
11364 | You persuade your lady to be afraid of alighting.--See you not that she is just fainting? |
11364 | You thought, Madam, you had given me room to hope your pardon by it? |
11364 | a- year, enable a man to do? |
11364 | and Dorcas whipt to the inner- hall door, and saw her; but, taking her for Mabell, Are you going far, Mabell? |
11364 | and have we not attempted rescues, and dared all things, only to extricate a pounded profligate? |
11364 | and how could you pass me unseen? |
11364 | and when a CLARISSA could not move me? |
11364 | and wherefore these agonizing apprehensions? |
11364 | and whether you bespoke your nephew''s attendance there on Sunday night the 11th? |
11364 | and will you acquit her whom that condemns? |
11364 | and, if you do, whether he be very intimate with my uncle Harlowe? |
11364 | at a time too, when, as it falls out, I have another very sensible disappointment to struggle with? |
11364 | have we not defied the civil magistrate upon occasion? |
11364 | knows not how to forgive with graciousness? |
11364 | one whom she knew to be a rake? |
11364 | or what malefactor ought to be hanged? |
11364 | said he-- But since we are, I will but ask a question-- My dearest life, why this apprehension? |
11364 | said she-- do you authorize these women-- what right have they, or you either, to stop me? |
11364 | what a hand have I made of it!--And all for what? |
11364 | what, in the mean time, shall I do with this admirable creature? |
11364 | when the will, the consent, is wanting-- and I have still views before me of obtaining that? |
11364 | when, of consequence, the affair is irretrievable? |
11364 | with the weapons thou brandishest so fearfully against him.--And to what purpose, when the mischief is done? |
9798 | ''As to my charge upon him of unpoliteness and uncontroulableness-- What[ he asks] can he say? |
9798 | ''What ails the perverse creature?'' |
9798 | ***** This man have more terror at seeing me, than I can have at seeing him!--How can that be? |
9798 | A little interruption.--What is breakfast to the subject I am upon? |
9798 | ANGRY!--What should I be angry for? |
9798 | After what I had resolved upon, as by my former, what shall I write? |
9798 | All this violence from you, Miss Clary? |
9798 | And am I to appear before them all? |
9798 | And from whom arises that subject, I pray you? |
9798 | And has he not promised temper and acquiescence, on the supposition of a change in my mind? |
9798 | And have I, but on your account, reason to value what they think? |
9798 | And how do you now, Mr. Hickman? |
9798 | And how must this insolence of his, aggravated as my brother is able to aggravate it, exasperate them against me? |
9798 | And if not, whether she should not marry him as soon as possible? |
9798 | And if not,''Whether I should not marry him as soon as possible?'' |
9798 | And if not,''Whether you should not marry him as soon as possible?'' |
9798 | And is a brother, an only brother, of so little consideration with you, as this comes to? |
9798 | And is it worthy of your generosity[ I ask you, my dear, is it?] |
9798 | And know you any of the particulars of those sad stories? |
9798 | And my brother''s insolent question comes frequently in, Whether I am not writing a history of my sufferings? |
9798 | And now, my dear, how is it with you? |
9798 | And now, my dear, what shall I conclude upon? |
9798 | And tell me, what argument can you urge, that this true declaration answers not before- hand? |
9798 | And then he fared the better from her, as he always does, for faring worse from me: for there was, How do you now, Sir? |
9798 | And this is your answer, Niece? |
9798 | And this, my dear, is all that Mr. Hickman could pick up about him: And is it not enough to determine such a mind as yours, if not already determined? |
9798 | And what concession she had gained from her dear child to merit this tenderness? |
9798 | And what must that child be, who prefers the rake to a father? |
9798 | And what need you care? |
9798 | And what occasion for the promise, if he had not faults, and those very great ones, to reform? |
9798 | And what then, Brother? |
9798 | And what workman will throw away a sharp tool, because it may cut his fingers? |
9798 | And when you are so well entitled to give them? |
9798 | And who knows but they may have a still earlier day in their intention, than that which will too soon come? |
9798 | And why do they blame her?--Why? |
9798 | And will the pious Clarissa fib to her mamma? |
9798 | And would not you bear with her?--Don''t you love her( what though with another sort of love?) |
9798 | And would you not wish me to judge of your love for her by my own? |
9798 | And would you, in resentment, shew her and the world, that you can voluntarily rush into the highest error that any of our sex can be guilty of? |
9798 | And yet is there any other way than to do as I have done, if I would avoid Solmes? |
9798 | And yet, why was I so affected; since I may be said to have been given up to the cruelty of my brother and sister for many days past? |
9798 | And, besides, can any thing worse be said of Mr. Lovelace, than I have heard said for several months past? |
9798 | And, depend upon it, he will not suffer them quietly to carry you to your uncle''s: And whose must you be, if he succeeds in taking you from them? |
9798 | And, pray, do n''t I bear a great deal from her?--And why? |
9798 | And, rally me as you will, pray tell me fairly, my dear, would it not have had such an effect upon you? |
9798 | And, to see how familiar these men- wretches grow upon a smile, what an awe they are struck into when we frown; who would not make them stand off? |
9798 | Are you, who refuse ever body''s advice, to prescribe a husband to your sister? |
9798 | As how, Betty? |
9798 | As how, Miss Dolly?--Did she not explain herself?--As how, my dear? |
9798 | As it was-- Sir, said I, saw you not some of the servants?--Could not one of them have come in before you? |
9798 | At his going away-- How can I leave you here by yourself, my dear? |
9798 | At last, I asked him, if it were not thought strange I should be so long absent from church? |
9798 | At my expense?--At the price of all my happiness, Sir? |
9798 | Besides, What discredit have I to fear by such a step? |
9798 | Besides, did I not reserve a power of receding, as I saw fit? |
9798 | But for that, I know not what I might do: For who can tell what will come next? |
9798 | But how can we resolve to see you? |
9798 | But if a boisterous temper, when under obligation, is to be thus allowed for, what, when the tables are turned, will it expect? |
9798 | But is not hers the disgrace, more than yours? |
9798 | But is there not more danger from a sharp tool than from a blunt one? |
9798 | But let this be as it will, shall I tell you, how, after all his offences, he may creep in with you again? |
9798 | But tell me, if you can, Is it resolved that I shall be carried to my uncle Antony''s on Thursday? |
9798 | But what a giddy creature shall I be thought, if I pursue the course to which this letter must lead me? |
9798 | But what can be said in the case of an aversion so perfectly sincere? |
9798 | But what condescensions, even from my father, can induce me to make such a sacrifice as is expected from me? |
9798 | But what is the other, Madam? |
9798 | But what would you have said at EIGHTEEN, is the question? |
9798 | But when she was asked, What concession she had brought you to? |
9798 | But who knows what may be the result of my being carried to my uncle Antony''s? |
9798 | But who would wish to drain off or dry up a refreshing current, because it now- and- then puts us to some little inconvenience by its over- flowings? |
9798 | But why should I, who have such real evils to contend with, regard imaginary ones? |
9798 | But why should you, by the nobleness of your mind, throw reproaches upon the rest of the world? |
9798 | But will it not exasperate he more against me? |
9798 | But will you receive, shall you be permitted to receive my letters, after what I have done? |
9798 | But would you expect favours, and grant none? |
9798 | But you tell me, that, in order to gain time, I must palliate; that I must seem to compromise with my friends: But how palliate? |
9798 | But, after all, should I, ought I to meet him? |
9798 | But, how, on this revocation of my appointment, shall I be able to pacify him? |
9798 | But, if it be a rash thing,[ returned she,] should she do it? |
9798 | By whom, Betty? |
9798 | By whose order? |
9798 | Can not such purity in pursuit, in view, restrain him? |
9798 | Can nothing be thought of? |
9798 | Can you stand his displeasure, on first seeing the dear creature who has given him and all of us so much disturbance? |
9798 | Did he learn this infamous practice of corrupting the servants of other families at the French court, where he resided a good while? |
9798 | Did you ever hear of such perverseness, Madam? |
9798 | Do n''t they already think that your non- compliance with their odious measures is owing a good deal to my advice? |
9798 | Do n''t you know where it is written, That soft answers turn away wrath? |
9798 | Do n''t you see how crooked some of my lines are? |
9798 | Do n''t you see, my dear Miss Howe, how they are all determined?--Have I not reason to dread next Tuesday? |
9798 | Do not use those freedoms naturally arise from the subject before us? |
9798 | Do the servants, who, as you observe, see her skittish airs, disrespect you for them? |
9798 | Do they not act in character?--And to whom? |
9798 | Do they not, at such times, look concerned for you? |
9798 | Do you beat me, Bella? |
9798 | Do you call this beating you? |
9798 | Do you then please that I shall hear it? |
9798 | Do you think I could not be permitted to tarry one week longer? |
9798 | Does it not, moreover, manifest a firmness of mind, in an unhappy person, to keep hope alive? |
9798 | Does she suspect that your fervent friendship may lead you to a small indiscretion? |
9798 | Does the man think he is so secure of me, that having appointed, he need not give himself any further concern about me till the very moment? |
9798 | Either, said she, the lady must be thought to have very violent inclinations[ And what nice young creature would have that supposed?] |
9798 | For God''s sake, what, Sir?--How came God''s sake, and your sake, I pray you, to be the same? |
9798 | For have I given the man encouragement sufficient to ground these threats upon? |
9798 | For is not this to suppose myself ever in the right; and all who do not act as I would have them act, perpetually in the wrong? |
9798 | For see you not how irresistible the waves of affliction come tumbling down upon me? |
9798 | Go in before me, child, said Bella,[ vexed to see her concern for me,] with thy sharp face like a new moon: What dost thou cry for? |
9798 | Has what he has said of me, Madam, convinced you of Mr. Lovelace''s baseness? |
9798 | Have I, do you think, a desire to double and treble my own fault in the eye of the world? |
9798 | Have I, or have I not, suffered or borne enough? |
9798 | Have they not prohibited our correspondence upon that very surmise? |
9798 | Have you any thing you are afraid should be seen by your mother? |
9798 | Have you no eyes for this side of the chariot? |
9798 | Have you no new fetch for your uncle Antony? |
9798 | Have you not a Thomas a Kempis, Sister? |
9798 | How can I consent to see him again, when yesterday''s interview was interpreted by you, Madam, as well as by every other, as an encouragement to him? |
9798 | How can I tell, Miss? |
9798 | How can we, when you are resolved not to do what we are resolved you shall do? |
9798 | How can you be so unmoved yourself, yet so able to move every body else? |
9798 | How can you say advanced? |
9798 | How could I avoid making these strong declarations, the man in presence? |
9798 | How could you send such a letter to Mr. Solmes? |
9798 | How do you now, as my mother says to Mr. Hickman, when her pert daughter has made him look sorrowful? |
9798 | How much easier to bear the temporary persecutions I labour under, because temporary, than to resolve to be such a man''s for life? |
9798 | How often, my dear, have you and I endeavoured to detect and censure this partial spirit in others? |
9798 | How seem to compromise? |
9798 | How shall I bear to hear such a creature talk of love to me? |
9798 | How shall I know that? |
9798 | How shall those beauties be valued, which can not be comprehended? |
9798 | How they all gazed upon one another!--But could I be less peremptory before the man? |
9798 | I asked if this was her own insolence, or her young mistress''s observation? |
9798 | I asked my aunt, If it were necessary, that the gentleman should be present? |
9798 | I asked what she would do, were she in my case? |
9798 | I believe he is, Miss-- Would you have him sent for back? |
9798 | I put it to her, in the most earnest manner, to tell me, whether I might not obtain the favour of a fortnight''s respite? |
9798 | I think they seemed to be moving when Mr. Solmes gave me his orders.--But what answer shall I carry to the''squire? |
9798 | I think you have answered Solmes''s letter, as I should have answered it.--Will you not compliment me and yourself at once, by saying, that was right? |
9798 | I to purchase their happiness by the forfeiture of my own? |
9798 | I will hear all that I am to hear; that it may be over now and for ever.--You will go with me, Betty? |
9798 | If I could, did I say? |
9798 | If not, what right have you to treat me thus; and to procure me to be treated as I have been for so long a time past? |
9798 | If persons pretending to principle, bear not their testimony against unprincipled actions, what check can they have? |
9798 | If she be foolish-- what is that owing to?--Is it not to her wit? |
9798 | If the world is unjust or rash, in one man''s case, why may it not be so in another''s? |
9798 | If, Sir, it be suspected, that I have set my heart upon any other, why is Mr. Solmes to give himself any further trouble about me? |
9798 | In short, to make my sake God''s sake, in the sense of Mr. Solmes''s pitiful plea to me? |
9798 | In the first place, let me ask you, my dear, supposing I were inclined to follow your advice, Whom have I to support me in my demand? |
9798 | Is Mr. Solmes gone, Betty? |
9798 | Is it such a mighty matter for a young woman to give up her inclinations to oblige her friends? |
9798 | Is not this cause enough for me to ground a resentment upon, sufficient to justify me for accompanying you; the friendship between us so well known? |
9798 | Is not this usage enough to provoke a rashness never before thought of? |
9798 | Is there, however, no medium? |
9798 | It begins thus: Honoured Sir-- I beg your pardon, Sir, said I: but what, pray, is the intent of reading this letter to me? |
9798 | It may be fancy only on her side; but parents look deeper: And will not Miss Clarissa Harlowe give up her fancy to her parents''judgment? |
9798 | It will be farther tried; of that I am convinced; and what will be their next measure, who can divine? |
9798 | LOVELACE?'' |
9798 | LOVELACE?'' |
9798 | Let me ask you, If something would have been done, had you been more gently used, than you seem to think you have been? |
9798 | Madam!--How long are we to be at this distance, Clary? |
9798 | Madam, and shaking your head so significantly? |
9798 | Must I not be his, whatever,( on seeing him in a nearer light,) I should find him out to be? |
9798 | Must I, my sweet Cousin? |
9798 | My aunt looked in first; O my dear, said she, are you there? |
9798 | My friends themselves, he says, expect that I will do myself what he calls, this justice: why else do they confine me? |
9798 | My uncle came to me, looking up also to my face, and down to my feet: and is it possible this can be you? |
9798 | Now it is, Why, Miss, do n''t you look up your things? |
9798 | O my beloved creature!--But are not your very excuses confessions of excuses inexcusable? |
9798 | Or shall I embark for Leghorn in my way to my cousin? |
9798 | Pardon me, Madam, I do n''t say you have a hand in it.--But, my dearest Aunt, tell me, Will not my mother be present at this dreaded interview? |
9798 | Questions whether she will not rather choose to go off with one of her own sex than with Lovelace? |
9798 | See you not in her passiveness, what boisterous spirits can obtain from gentler, merely by teasing and ill- nature? |
9798 | Shall I be a pedant, Miss, for this word? |
9798 | Shall I tell you some of the matters charged against him?--shall I, my dear? |
9798 | Shall I tell you-- but why should I? |
9798 | She loves dearly to have weddings go forward!--Who knows, whose turn will be next? |
9798 | She took notice of them-- Why these sighs, why these heavings here? |
9798 | Solmes, why stand you thus humbly?--Why this distance, man? |
9798 | Some of them have been afraid to see me, lest they should be moved in my favour: does not this give a reasonable hope that I may move them? |
9798 | Surely a week would? |
9798 | That the greater their own cowardice, as it would be called in a man, the greater is their delight in subjects of heroism? |
9798 | The ardour with which he vows and promises, I think the heart only can dictate: how else can one guess at a man''s heart? |
9798 | The most admired of our moderns know nothing of this art: Why? |
9798 | The vein is opened-- Shall I let it flow? |
9798 | Then let not Mr. Solmes stay.--Why hold you me thus? |
9798 | Then turning to my uncle, Do you hear, Sir? |
9798 | They wo n''t kill me? |
9798 | This makes me half- afraid to ask you, if you think you are not too cruel, too ungenerous shall I say? |
9798 | This then is the case: They entreat, they pray, they beg, they supplicate( will either of these do, Miss Clary?) |
9798 | To do evil, that good may come of it, is forbidden: And shall I do evil, yet know not whether good may come of it or not? |
9798 | Upon the whole, Madam, said I, can you say, that the inveteracy lies not as much on our side, as on his? |
9798 | Violent girl, however, he called me-- Who, said he, who would have thought it of her? |
9798 | Was I not finely beset, my dear? |
9798 | Was this my spiteful construction? |
9798 | Were I to comply, must I not leave my relations, and go to him? |
9798 | What an honour would it be to him to have such a wife? |
9798 | What are riches, what are settlements, to happiness? |
9798 | What can I advise you to do, my noble creature? |
9798 | What can I do, my dearest Aunt Hervey? |
9798 | What can I do? |
9798 | What can I do? |
9798 | What detriment? |
9798 | What have I done, that I must be banished and confined thus disgracefully? |
9798 | What have I to do with these headstrong spirits? |
9798 | What have you done?--What have you written? |
9798 | What hopes can there be, that a lady will ever esteem, as a husband, the man, whom, as a lover, she despises? |
9798 | What is it, he asks, that he has promised, but reformation by my example? |
9798 | What is there in it, says she, that all this bustle is about? |
9798 | What mean you, Sir,[ struggling vehemently to get away,] to detain me thus against my will? |
9798 | What say you, Mr. Solmes? |
9798 | What say you? |
9798 | What then!--I can but-- But what? |
9798 | What though the contention will be between woman and woman? |
9798 | What will they do, Betty? |
9798 | What will they do? |
9798 | What workman loves not a sharp tool to work with? |
9798 | What would you have had me say, my dear?--I wo n''t tell you what I did say: But had I not said what I did, who would have believed me? |
9798 | What would you have of them? |
9798 | What''s that for? |
9798 | What, Madam, has the man dared to say of me? |
9798 | What, Madam, is now to be done with me? |
9798 | What, pray, Miss, are they? |
9798 | What, taking my hand, can be the matter with you?--Why, my dear, tremble, tremble, tremble, at this rate? |
9798 | Where, asks she[ as you have been asked before], is the praise- worthiness of obedience, if it be only paid in instance where we give up nothing? |
9798 | Whether I am willing or not willing, you mean, I suppose, Mrs. Betty? |
9798 | Whither go you, Niece? |
9798 | Who but pities you, and blames he? |
9798 | Who can forbid tears? |
9798 | Who commands my attendance, Miss? |
9798 | Who is it, then, Madam, that so reluctant an interview on both sides, is to please? |
9798 | Who knows what Tuesday or Wednesday may produce? |
9798 | Who was the old Greek, that said, he governed Athens; his wife, him; and his son, her? |
9798 | Who would not enjoy a power, that is to be short- lived? |
9798 | Who, I, Sir, to find you bowels you naturally have not? |
9798 | Whom now, Clary, said my sister, do you reflect upon? |
9798 | Why should the poor girl be turned out of doors so suddenly, so disgracefully? |
9798 | Why will you send your servant empty- handed? |
9798 | Why, dear, good Sir, am I to be made unhappy in a point so concerning my happiness? |
9798 | Will nothing do, but to have a man who is the more disgustful to me, because he is unjust in the very articles he offers? |
9798 | Will she not so far favour me? |
9798 | Will you doubt, my dear, that my next trial will be the most affecting that I have yet had? |
9798 | Will you give me your hands? |
9798 | Will you go down, Miss Clary, or will you not? |
9798 | Will you see your father? |
9798 | Would a girl, modest as simple, above seventeen, be set a- singing at the pleasure of such a man as that? |
9798 | Would a week? |
9798 | Yet I will ask you, Have you, Miss, no more proposals to make? |
9798 | Yet a club will beat down a sword: And how can you expect that they who are hurt by you will not hurt you again? |
9798 | Yet what can I do?--I believe I shall take it back again the first thing in the morning-- Yet what can I do? |
9798 | Yet why should I be thus uneasy, since, should the letter go, I can but hear what Mr. Lovelace says to it? |
9798 | You are an ungrateful and unreasonable child: Must you have your way paramount to every body''s? |
9798 | You ask me, in a very unbrotherly manner, in the postscript to your letter, if I have not some new proposals to make? |
9798 | You see how determined-- But how can I expect your advice will come time enough to stand me in any stead? |
9798 | Your answer is required, whether you cheerfully consent to go? |
9798 | a stranger, and professedly in disguise!--Would her father and grandmother, if honest people, and careful of their simple girl, permit such freedoms? |
9798 | after this instance of you so lightly dispensing with your promise? |
9798 | and does this suspicion offend you? |
9798 | and that to be withdrawn, whenever I disoblige him? |
9798 | and when I am determined never to encourage him? |
9798 | as well as I do? |
9798 | because they think you merit better treatment at her hands: And is not this to your credit? |
9798 | could escape you penetrating eye? |
9798 | cries one:--''Is she love- sick?'' |
9798 | he asked-- Was this the interpretation I put upon his brotherly care of me, and concern for me, in order to prevent my ruining myself? |
9798 | how could my uncle Harlowe so dissemble?] |
9798 | in the eye of that world which, cruelly as I am used,( not knowing all,) would not acquit me? |
9798 | in your behaviour to a man who loves you so dearly, and is so worthy and so sincere a man? |
9798 | is it to make thy keen face look still keener? |
9798 | might not I be obliged with one week, without such a horrid condition as the last? |
9798 | no answer, my dear?--Why so much silent grief? |
9798 | nor how much nobler it is to forgive, and even how much more manly to despise, than to resent, an injury? |
9798 | not if your father or mother command it-- Girl? |
9798 | particularly, upon your own family-- and upon ours too? |
9798 | repeated I: and this from my aunt Hervey? |
9798 | said I-- Had not Mr. Solmes a view in this? |
9798 | said I-- Have you not been in tears, my dear? |
9798 | said my aunt-- Could I have thought a brother would have said this, to a gentleman, of a sister? |
9798 | said my uncle, withdrawing his hands from mine: Could I ever have thought of this from you? |
9798 | said she, patting my neck-- O my dear Niece, who would have thought so much natural sweetness could be so very unpersuadable? |
9798 | silent still?--But, Clary, wo n''t you have a velvet suit? |
9798 | that my cousin Morden-- But what signifies wishing? |
9798 | to think of taking so undutiful a step, because you believe your mother would be glad to receive you again? |
9798 | to what end, Sir?--Do I contend for any thing more than a mere negative? |
9798 | what can I? |
9798 | when I myself declared, that if I saw him a second time by my own consent, it might be so taken? |
9798 | who knows what? |
9798 | with a look of pity, as if she understood the meaning of my exclamation-- But must that necessarily be the case? |
10799 | ''But has goody Moore any other lodgings to let?'' |
10799 | ''What are our affairs to him? |
10799 | ''Wife, Lovelace?'' |
10799 | * Might she be assured, she asked him, that her brother, with Singleton and Solmes, were actually in quest of her? |
10799 | * Was it not easy then, thinkest thou, to contrive a shorter letter out of a longer; and to copy the very words? |
10799 | ** and before Mrs. Sinclair, and her household, and Miss Partington? |
10799 | *** A gentleman to speak with me, Dorcas?--Who can want me thus early? |
10799 | *** Is all ready, Dorcas? |
10799 | *** Well, Jack!--And what thinkest thou of this last letter? |
10799 | ***--And yet why fly I from subjects that, duly considered, might tend to correct and purify my heart? |
10799 | **--And do not I know that it is? |
10799 | -- And what is there so very greatly amiss, AS THE WORLD GOES, in all this? |
10799 | --Was not this a bold put, Jack? |
10799 | --Whither does that path lead? |
10799 | --in this Tomlinson? |
10799 | >>> And thus situated, should he offer greater free- doms, must you not forgive him? |
10799 | >>> But can I think[ you will ask with indignant astonishment] that Lovelace can have designs upon your honour? |
10799 | Absolutely resolved, Madam? |
10799 | All sweetly blushing and confounded-- I know how she will look!--But why should she, the sufferer, be ashamed, when I, the trespasser, am not? |
10799 | And I am truly afraid, that his very generosity is more owing to his pride and his vanity, that that philanthropy( shall I call it?) |
10799 | And I thought I felt drops of scalding water[ could they be tears?] |
10799 | And are we not told, that in being well deceived consists the whole of human happiness? |
10799 | And as to trying her, is she not now in the height of her trial? |
10799 | And can not I, as I have often said, reward her when I will by marriage? |
10799 | And can there, after all, be a higher piece of justice, than to keep one smuggler in readiness to play against another? |
10799 | And can you refuse to ratify your own promise? |
10799 | And do not your sprightly ladies love your smart fellow, and your rakes? |
10799 | And does he imagine, said she, that I could be brought to countenance to them the report you have given out? |
10799 | And freely? |
10799 | And has not my own heart deceived me, when I thought it did not? |
10799 | And how can I receive a visit that must depress me more? |
10799 | And how could I do this better, than by dialoguing a little with him before them? |
10799 | And if she do, may she not forgive the last attempt?--Can she, in a word, resent that more than she does this? |
10799 | And if so, to whom shall I be accountable for what I do to them? |
10799 | And in the protection they offer you, if you are dissatisfied with mine? |
10799 | And is it not in my own power still, by the Divine favour, to secure the greatest stake of all? |
10799 | And is it not now fairly come to-- Who shall most deceive and cheat the other? |
10799 | And is not the widow Bevis my fast friend? |
10799 | And is not your friendship the pride of my life? |
10799 | And is not your friendship the pride of my life? |
10799 | And may not this very contrivance save a world of mischief? |
10799 | And now, Belford, was it not worth while to be sick? |
10799 | And pray, Sir, what is it? |
10799 | And shall such a sneaking passion as this, which can be so easily gratified by viler objects, be permitted to debase the noblest? |
10799 | And shall that of a Clarissa swell the guilty list? |
10799 | And should not my beloved, for her own sake, descend, by degrees, from goddess- hood into humanity? |
10799 | And should she not have charity for me, as I have for her? |
10799 | And that then she may assist privately at your nuptials? |
10799 | And the rather, as the maid told us, that the lady had asked her if such a gentleman[ describing him] was not in the parlour? |
10799 | And then, if there be as much flaming love between these girls as they pretend, will my charmer profit by her escape? |
10799 | And to her''s and to the honour of her sex, if I cannot?--Where then will be the hurt to either, to make the trial? |
10799 | And what dost think was the matter? |
10799 | And what have I to fear from my brother and sister? |
10799 | And what is the sum of the present argument; but that had I not been a villain in her sense of the word, she had not been such an angel? |
10799 | And what must be that love, that has not some degree of purity for its object? |
10799 | And what right has a petitioner to be angry at a repulse, if he has not a right to demand what he sues for as a debt? |
10799 | And what, Sir, said my mother? |
10799 | And what, pray, Captain, was your advice? |
10799 | And what, pray, must be the issue, when her uncle''s friend comes, although he seems to be a truly worthy man? |
10799 | And who knows but it may be the better for the lady the less she makes necessary? |
10799 | And who knows but she may? |
10799 | And whose property, I pray thee, shall I invade, if I pursue my schemes of love and vengeance? |
10799 | And why may it not rather be a servant of your cousin Morden, with notice of his arrival, and of his design to attend you? |
10799 | And why should it be thought strange, that I, who love them so dearly, and study them so much, should catch the infection of them? |
10799 | And why, dearest creature, said I, must every thing that happens, which we can not immediately account for, be what we least wish? |
10799 | And why? |
10799 | And will he not pursue his intentions in my favour, nor be himself reconciled to me, except I am married? |
10799 | And will it not look well to have a lodger who keeps his chariot? |
10799 | And will you be so good as to allow of this, Mr. Lovelace? |
10799 | And will you look upon me to- morrow as if nothing had passed? |
10799 | And wouldest thou think it? |
10799 | And, as the sting of this reflection will sharpen upon me, if I recover her not, how shall I ever be able to bear it? |
10799 | And, in either case, will not the remembrance of thy ever- during guilt, and transitory triumph, be a torment of torments to thee? |
10799 | Another of her feints, I suppose: for how, or with whom, could any thing of this sort have been concerted since yesterday morning? |
10799 | Are not all our engines in readiness? |
10799 | Are we to form our opinion of things by the romantic notions of a girl, who supposes that to be the greatest which is the slightest of evils? |
10799 | As to my spouse herself, has she not reason to be pleased with me for having permitted her to receive Miss Howe''s letter from Wilson''s? |
10799 | Briefly, whether you are actually, and bonâ fide, married to Miss Clarissa Harlowe? |
10799 | But I ask him, how he can already expect any mark of deference or politeness from you? |
10799 | But as to this letter, methinkest thou sayest, of Miss Howe? |
10799 | But did not I tell thee that I had provided for every thing? |
10799 | But did not the sweet soul deserve this turn upon her, for feloniously resolving to rob me of herself, had the application made by Hickman succeeded? |
10799 | But didst thou think, Jack, that there was so much-- What- shall- I- call- it? |
10799 | But if I answer that I am, what then? |
10799 | But if there be infection in that house, how has my beloved escaped it? |
10799 | But if this is so, what,[ it would be asked by an indifferent person,] has hitherto saved you? |
10799 | But let me ask you one previous question-- Do you know Colonel Morden, Sir? |
10799 | But let me see, shall I be angry or pleased when I am admitted to my beloved''s presence? |
10799 | But seest thou not that I have a claim of merit for a grace that every body hitherto had denied me? |
10799 | But suppose you desire to go out of town for the air, this sultry weather, and insist upon it? |
10799 | But this effect of her joy on such an occasion gives me a high notion of what that virtue must be[ What other name can I call it?] |
10799 | But this, indeed, may be said of all worldly delights.--And is not that a grave reflection from me? |
10799 | But was it improper to ask for copies of my proposals, and of her answer, in order to show them to his dear friend, her uncle? |
10799 | But what advantages do I give thee? |
10799 | But what am I about? |
10799 | But what indeed is an imperial crown itself when a man is used to it? |
10799 | But whither, whither, my dearest love, would you go!--Think you not that I will follow you, were it to the world''s end!--Whither would you go? |
10799 | But why must the faults of other people be laid at my door? |
10799 | But why, Jack, is this dear creature so lovely, yet so invincible?--Ever heardst thou before that the sweets of May blossomed in December? |
10799 | But why, my dear, should these men( for Mr. Lovelace is not singular in this) think themselves above giving these beautiful proofs of a feeling heart? |
10799 | But why? |
10799 | But would it not be better to show her uncle the draught of the settlements, when drawn? |
10799 | But, Madam, can not a body just peep into the other apartment; that I may be more particular to my wife in the furniture of it? |
10799 | But, my dear, will you be pleased to consider what answer half a dozen people whence you came, could give to your question? |
10799 | But, pray, Sir, to the immediate purpose of your present commission; since a commission it seems to be? |
10799 | But, to be insulted and defied by a rebel in one''s power, what prince can bear that? |
10799 | But, when I have no such hope, is it right[ you are a serious man, Sir] to make a venture that shall endanger my own morals? |
10799 | Can not I steal to some neighbouring house, where I may be concealed till I can get quite away? |
10799 | Can you take no pleasure in the promised visit of Lady Betty and my cousin Montague? |
10799 | Canst thou be more abandoned than they? |
10799 | Captain Devilson, what care I?--Do you see how you have disordered your lady? |
10799 | Captain Tomlinson, sayest thou? |
10799 | Could the dear creature put Dorcas upon telling this fib, yet want to save me one? |
10799 | Dear Ladies, is there no back- door for me to get out at while you hold him in talk? |
10799 | Devil, as these girls between them call me, what of devil am I, but in my contrivances? |
10799 | Did I court her at first with the allowance of her friends, her brother excepted? |
10799 | Did I not generously spare her, when in my power? |
10799 | Did you never go out by your- self, and discharge the coach or chair, and return>>> by another coach or chair? |
10799 | Didst thou imagine that such a fellow as that had bowels? |
10799 | Do I doubt, Sir, that you have not something to say for any thing you think fit to do? |
10799 | Do n''t I look devilishly down and concerned, Landlord? |
10799 | Do n''t you see, Madam, that your uncle wishes to find that we are married? |
10799 | Do not the lovers, when mutual consent awaits their wills, retire to coverts, and to darkness, to complete their wishes? |
10799 | Do they not both deserve it of me? |
10799 | Do you know anything of Colonel Morden, friend? |
10799 | Do you know such a man as Captain Tomlinson, my dearest life,[ aside,] your uncle''s friend? |
10799 | Do you think I may not insist upon her absolving me from this abominable oath? |
10799 | Does she not invade my province, thinkest thou? |
10799 | Dost think, Jack, that my face did not now also shine? |
10799 | Early riser as I am, how could he think to find me up thus early? |
10799 | For am I not a smart fellow, and a rake? |
10799 | For had not the dear creature already passed for my wife before no less than four worthy gentlemen of family and fortune? |
10799 | Good lack-- good lack!--What may be her story then, I pray? |
10799 | H.*** Now, Belford, what canst thou say in behalf of this sweet rogue of a lady? |
10799 | Habit, habit, Jack, seest thou not? |
10799 | Had I a rencounter with that brother? |
10799 | Had I not a cursed task of it? |
10799 | Had I not given a flagrant proof of this to the once most indulgent of parents? |
10799 | Had not that contrivance its effect at that time, for a procrastination? |
10799 | Had you not better see him? |
10799 | Has he not given you a flagrant specimen of what a man he is, and of what his is capable, by the disguises you saw him in? |
10799 | Has my beloved kept her word with me?--Whether are these billowy heavings owing more to love or to fear? |
10799 | Has she not broken her promise? |
10799 | Hast thou a mind tot see what it was I permitted Miss Howe to write to her lovely friend? |
10799 | Have I not enow of my own? |
10799 | Have I not often said, that human nature is a rogue? |
10799 | Have I not reason to think that she is coming about? |
10799 | Have I not said that human nature is a rogue? |
10799 | Have I not told thee our whole story? |
10799 | Have not those who have a right to her renounced that right? |
10799 | Have they not wilfully exposed her to dangers? |
10799 | Have you more to say than has been said? |
10799 | Have you no wish to see your uncle''s friend? |
10799 | Have you not been in the army? |
10799 | He has promised to keep from your uncle what has happened: but what will he think if he find you hold in this strange humour? |
10799 | He should have been quite angry-- For what gave I him the nod positive? |
10799 | Heartily? |
10799 | Her senses, thought I, are much livelier than mine.--What a devil have I done, that she should be so very implacable? |
10799 | How came she,( thought I, at the instant,) by all this penetration? |
10799 | How can that be? |
10799 | How did the dear creature look, Dorcas? |
10799 | How do you, Mr. Lovelace? |
10799 | How does she look? |
10799 | How goes it with thy uncle? |
10799 | How happy should I think myself to be admitted into their correspondence? |
10799 | How meanly must thou think of her, that thou couldst presume to be so guilty, and expect her to be so weak as to forgive thee? |
10799 | How oddly things come about!--But does any other of the Harlowes know where we are? |
10799 | How often, in the past twelve hours, have I wished that I could cry most confoundedly? |
10799 | I am loth to reproach myself, now the cruel creature has escaped me; For what would that do, but add to my torment? |
10799 | I asked, if she approved of the settlements? |
10799 | I begged excuse for sitting down, and asked, who was the minister of the place? |
10799 | I had a gentle reprimand for this light turn on so heavy an evil--''For what was the loss of beauty to the loss of a good husband?'' |
10799 | I hoped she had no objection to my bringing that lady and my cousin Montague up with me? |
10799 | I know the world; and will take the liberty to say, that if the young lady-- Captain Tomlinson, I think you are called? |
10799 | I started, and, in a haughty tone, is this, Sir, a question that must be answered before you can proceed in the business you have undertaken? |
10799 | I told thee, Belford, all I did: Was there any thing in it so very much amiss? |
10799 | I wait here only for a letter from Miss Howe-- that must determine me-- Determine you as to Mr. Lovelace, Madam? |
10799 | I was the affected with it, as I am afraid it was occasioned by the violent contentions between us.--But was I in fault? |
10799 | I was to mistrust myself, was I? |
10799 | If I have not your pardon before Captain Tomlinson comes to town, what shall I say to him? |
10799 | If he were a good preacher? |
10799 | If it be pride that restrains her, ought not that pride to be punished? |
10799 | If my advocate had nothing to say for me, what hope of carrying my cause? |
10799 | If shame, what a shame to be ashamed to communicate to her adorer''s sight the most admirable of her personal graces? |
10799 | If you are absolutely determined, be pleased to let me know what I shall say to your uncle? |
10799 | In what, then, am I so singularly vile? |
10799 | Indeed I heard him talking, thought not what he said, and am indifferent about it.--But what account does he give of himself? |
10799 | Indeed for all you have to spare-- For who knows what my spouse''s brother may attempt? |
10799 | Is it policy to show so open a resentment for innocent liberties, which, in her situation, she must so soon forgive? |
10799 | Is not one country as good to me as another, if I should be obliged to take another tour upon it? |
10799 | Is not thy uncle dead yet? |
10799 | Is she not an Harlowe? |
10799 | Is she not now yielding up her resentment for an attempt which she thinks she ought not to forgive? |
10799 | Is there no possibility of getting to a coach? |
10799 | Is this an answer to my question? |
10799 | Is this deified passion, in its greatest altitudes, fitted to stand the day? |
10799 | Is this the design of your flattering speeches? |
10799 | Is this the forgiveness that was the condition of my obedience? |
10799 | It is necessary that I should answer? |
10799 | It is not that I shall be of party against myself? |
10799 | Lay your hand upon your heart, and answer me, am I your wedded wife? |
10799 | Let me ask any rake in England, if, resolving to carry his point, he would have been so long about it? |
10799 | Let me beg of you-- What askest thou? |
10799 | May I not re- appeal this to your own breast, as well as to Captain Tomlinson''s treaty and letter? |
10799 | May not the ceremony be privately over, before his mediation can take place? |
10799 | Miss Howe''s answer to my last unreceived?--And shall I, Sir, be in such a HURRY, as if I thought my honour in danger if I delayed? |
10799 | Miss R. Give me leave to ask you, Madam, Is there no room to hope for accommodation? |
10799 | Mutual obligation is the very essence and soul of the social and commercial life:--Why should she be exempt from it? |
10799 | My dearest life!--Do you think that he would disapprove of the terms I have offered? |
10799 | My heart was perfectly easy, how could my stomach be otherwise? |
10799 | Need they know all that passes between my relations and you and me? |
10799 | No, Madam, that''s true, if she be good- humoured, as you say-- Has she been with you long, Madam? |
10799 | Not for my own sake, you know, did I wish you to take it; for what is it to me, if I am never reconciled to your family? |
10799 | Not in the way, said I!--Whither can the dogs be gone? |
10799 | Nothing can happen amiss, thou sorrowful dog!--What can happen amiss? |
10799 | Now- a- days!--A fool!--Have not her history- books told her that they were always so? |
10799 | O Jack, with such an invention, what occasion had I to carry my beloved to Mrs. Sinclair''s? |
10799 | O that I had not such a mixture of revenge and pride in my love, thought I!--But,( my old plea,) can not I make her amends at any time? |
10799 | Of Captain Singleton? |
10799 | Once again, why and for what all these convulsions? |
10799 | Once more wilt thou wonderingly question-- All this pains for a single girl? |
10799 | Or should Dorcas attend her for any of her commands on that head? |
10799 | Ought she not to be punished? |
10799 | Patience, puppy!--Canst thou not trust thy master? |
10799 | Perhaps, Sir, you would board, as well as lodge? |
10799 | Poor Miss Rawlins, thought I; and dost thou know how men go? |
10799 | Pr''ythee, Belford, forgive my nonsense, and my Vulcan- like metaphors-- Did I not tell thee, not that I am sick of love, but that I am mad with it? |
10799 | Pray, your Honour, said she, if I may be so bold, was madam ever a mamma? |
10799 | Saw you not how bad I was? |
10799 | Say, are we married, or are we not? |
10799 | See we not the natural bent of idiots and the crazed? |
10799 | See you not my Lord M. and Lady Sarah longing to bless you, for blessing me, and their whole family? |
10799 | Seest thou not that this unseasonable gravity is admitted to quell the palpitations of this unmanageable heart? |
10799 | Seest thou now how the raving girl threatens her mother? |
10799 | Shall I write to the Captain, and acquaint him, that we have no objection to it? |
10799 | She asked her if she would have bread and butter with her tea? |
10799 | She asked him if he thought Lady Betty and Miss Montague intended her a visit? |
10799 | She asked, if he thought I had hopes of prevailing on her to go back to town? |
10799 | She desired to know, if she would not breakfast? |
10799 | She paused-- then resuming-- and think you, Sir, that my uncle will refuse to receive a letter from me? |
10799 | She started, sighing-- Are you going, Sir? |
10799 | She talks of her father''s curse!--But have I not repaid him for it an hundred fold in the same coin? |
10799 | She then came up to me with a wrathful countenance: do you call your servant, Sir, to hinder me, between you, from going where I please? |
10799 | She then espied my new servant walking under the window, and asked if he were not one of mine? |
10799 | Silly fellow!--Did ever any man, thinkest thou, deceive a woman, but at the expense of his veracity; how, otherwise, can he be said to deceive? |
10799 | Sir, you must first allow me to repeat my question: Are you really, and bonâ fide, married to Miss Clarissa Harlowe? |
10799 | Specious seducer!--Only tell me if I can not get away from him by some back way? |
10799 | Surely he must deal with some fiend, or how could he have found me out? |
10799 | That I always took care to keep seals entire, and to preserve covers? |
10799 | That I am not at Sinclair''s? |
10799 | The Captain and I have agreed, that it shall be so insinuated occasionally-- And what''s thy opinion, Jack? |
10799 | The settlements still to be signed? |
10799 | The struggle only, Whether I am to have her in my own way, or in her''s? |
10799 | Then I fear her as much as I love her.--How shall my pride bear these reflections? |
10799 | Then pausing, Is that the way to Hendon? |
10799 | Then the busy Miss Rawlins fished on, to find out from her either a confirmation or disavowal of my story-- Was Lord M. my uncle? |
10799 | Then up from my seat stumped I-- what do you call these window- curtains, Madam? |
10799 | Then, Sir, you have no thoughts-- no thoughts--[looking still more sorrowfully,] of marrying this wonderful lady? |
10799 | Then, turning her face towards London, she seemed, by the motion of her handkerchief to her eyes, to weep; repenting[ who knows?] |
10799 | There''s no casting an eye upon her, is there, without her notice? |
10799 | Thinkest thou that I could bear to be outwitted? |
10799 | This must be all from education too-- Must it not, Belford? |
10799 | Thou knowest I never was a sordid villain to any of her inferiors-- Her inferiors, I may say-- For who is not her inferior? |
10799 | To what purpose brought I this angel( angel I must yet call her) to this hellish house?--And was I not meditating to do her deserved honour? |
10799 | To what purpose meet you? |
10799 | To what purpose should I meet you to- morrow morning? |
10799 | Tomlinson!--Why this undue condescension? |
10799 | Very true: How should she? |
10799 | Very well, Captain-- And was such a person employed on such an errand by her uncle? |
10799 | Was he really of opinion that Lady Betty would pay her a visit? |
10799 | Was it not crime enough to give occasion for those entreaties? |
10799 | Was she so persecuted in favour of a very disagreeable man, one Solmes, as to induce her to throw herself into my protection? |
10799 | Well but, Sir, have you then any commission to me from Mr. John Harlowe? |
10799 | Well observed-- Can''t you, Landlord, lend or sell me a pair of stockings, that will draw over these? |
10799 | Well, friend, what is your business with Mr. and Mrs. Lovelace? |
10799 | Well, my dearest life, what say you to your uncle''s expedient? |
10799 | Were it not for surprises now- and- then, how would an honest man know where to have them? |
10799 | What a triumph has her sex obtained in my thoughts by this trial, and this resistance? |
10799 | What can I have in view but peace and reconciliation? |
10799 | What can be still in his head, to endeavour to pass these stories upon strangers? |
10799 | What can you then think of Tomlinson''s declar- ing himself in favour of it upon inquiry? |
10799 | What canst thou say for her? |
10799 | What defence have I against a man, who, go where I will, can turn every one, even of the virtuous of my sex, in his favour?'' |
10799 | What had I to do to go out a license- hunting, at least till I had seen her, and made up matters with her? |
10799 | What hadst thou seen in the conduct of Clarissa Harlowe, that should encourage such an insult upon her as thou didst dare to make? |
10799 | What has my conduct been, that an insult of such a nature should be offered to me, and it would be a weakness in me to forgive? |
10799 | What have been her trials? |
10799 | What hinders, dearest Madam, what now hinders, but that Lady Betty Lawrance, when she comes, may be acquainted with the truth of every thing? |
10799 | What is his name? |
10799 | What is there in being enabled to boast, that I am worth more than I can use, or wish to use? |
10799 | What man or woman, who is covetous of power, or of making a right use of it? |
10799 | What need I( she asks me,) lock myself in,** if I am only reading past correspondencies? |
10799 | What pretence hast thou for tormenting me thus? |
10799 | What right, what title, have you to persecute me thus? |
10799 | What said my dear mother? |
10799 | What then but remorse can follow a forcible attempt? |
10799 | What was his conduct to you afterwards, that you should of a sudden change it? |
10799 | What widow, what servant, asks questions of a man with an equipage? |
10799 | What will the people below, who suppose us one as to the ceremony, think of so great a niceness? |
10799 | What would you have me answer? |
10799 | What''s the matter, Dorcas? |
10799 | What, my dear, would you have me say to the Captain to- morrow morning? |
10799 | What, pray, Sir, is your question? |
10799 | When, Sir, shall you want to come in? |
10799 | When, when was it to be? |
10799 | Whence, however, this strange rhapsody?--Is it owing to my being here? |
10799 | Where can a woman be safe, who has once entered the lists with a contriving and intrepid lover? |
10799 | Where is he? |
10799 | Where, Madam? |
10799 | Whither does that path lead, out yonder?--What is that town on the right hand called? |
10799 | Who can blame him? |
10799 | Who knows, thought I to myself, but more may come of this plot, than I had even promised myself? |
10799 | Who preached at the Chapel? |
10799 | Whom came you from? |
10799 | Why brought I such an angel into such a house? |
10799 | Why must I be thus pursued and haunted? |
10799 | Why not? |
10799 | Why now, Jack, were it not better, upon her own notions, that she seemed not so sensible as she will make herself to be, if she is very angry? |
10799 | Why then thy teasing impertinence? |
10799 | Why will these girls put me upon my master- strokes? |
10799 | Why, Sir, my business is only to know if your honour be here, and to be spoken with; or if you shall be here for any time? |
10799 | Why, Sir, should I be so much afraid of my brother? |
10799 | Will not these trembling fingers, which twice have refused to direct the pen, fail me in the arduous moment? |
10799 | Will you permit me to attend you in the morning, before I set out on my return? |
10799 | Will you, Madam, consent that things pass as before with the people below? |
10799 | With a face so unblushing, how darest thou appear in my presence? |
10799 | Would there have been a second of time difference, had you come up slowly? |
10799 | Wouldst thou make a merit to me, that thou didst not utterly ruin her whom thou oughtest to have protected? |
10799 | Yes, Jack-- But is not this girl a CLARISSA?--And who knows, but kind fortune, as a reward for my perseverance, may toss me in her charming friend? |
10799 | Yes, ride, Jack; for am I not lame? |
10799 | Yes, wife, for who knows what cautions the dear fugitive may have given in apprehension of me? |
10799 | Yet have I not always done her justice? |
10799 | Yet what mercy does she show me? |
10799 | You need not question his liberality; but one house can not hold us.--Why, if it would, did I fly from him, to seek refuge among strangers?'' |
10799 | You will not wonder that I am grave on this detection-- Detection, must I call it? |
10799 | You will then breakfast with me, Captain? |
10799 | Your servant, Sir,--Mr. Lovelace, I presume? |
10799 | [ But why do I now, when you seem to be in so good a train, puzzle and perplex you with my retrospections? |
10799 | [ Didst thou never hear the good folks talk of taking Heaven by storm?] |
10799 | [ I must write my free sentiments in this case; for have I not seen the angel?] |
10799 | and had I not then reason to fear, that the lady would find enough to make her dislike this house? |
10799 | and that I am not still further prepared to support my story? |
10799 | be not you the inflicter, who have been the cause of it: but spare me, I beseech you, spare me!--for how have I deserved this treatment from you? |
10799 | been my servant upwards of seven years? |
10799 | but can you think of force to such a fine creature? |
10799 | for disappointing me of a promised interview? |
10799 | for dost thou think I would have tamely given up the lady to Townsend''s tars? |
10799 | have I not told thee so twenty times over? |
10799 | hide me!--Is he gone? |
10799 | how can you put such a question? |
10799 | into such company?--And why do I not stop my ears to the sirens, who, knowing my aversion to wedlock, are perpetually touching that string? |
10799 | lie in the house? |
10799 | never, my angel!--Is this forgiveness? |
10799 | or are you not yet married? |
10799 | or have had so much compunction as I have had? |
10799 | said he, who can but pity him? |
10799 | said she, lifting up her lovely face, and clasped hands, what is at last to be my destiny? |
10799 | said she: the license still to be obtained? |
10799 | say.--Who knows, but that I may in time, in compliment to myself, bring her to think well of thee, Jack? |
10799 | so little a way?'' |
10799 | that thus far I rave against? |
10799 | thinkest thou that I will take all this roguish pains, and be so often called villain for nothing? |
10799 | who can say as you say? |
10799 | why beat you thus together? |
10799 | wouldst thou have me decline a trial that they make for the honour of a sex we all so dearly love? |
10799 | yet) glittering in the collected riches of his vast empire? |
10462 | ''*--What must that heart be that can triumph in a distress so deep, into which she has been plunged by thy elaborate arts and contrivances? |
10462 | ''If Mrs. Fretchville knows not her own mind, what is her house to me? |
10462 | ''Let me ask you, Madam, I beseech you tell me, what I have done to deserve this distant treatment? |
10462 | ''Whither can she fly to avoid me? |
10462 | *** And now, Belford, what dost think? |
10462 | *** And what must necessarily be the consequence of all this with regard to my beloved''s behaviour to me? |
10462 | ----And why did he not fall into this temptation? |
10462 | --And what if she could?--What could Hannah do for her in such a house as this? |
10462 | --Are women only to tease, I trow? |
10462 | --Can you so expect to narrow and confine such a passion as mine? |
10462 | --Could a Lovelace have allowed himself a greater license? |
10462 | --Is there any bearing this, Belford? |
10462 | --May I see the letter? |
10462 | --One favour, dearest creature-- Let me but know, whether Miss Howe approves or disapproves of my proposals? |
10462 | --What sayest thou to this, Belford? |
10462 | --Yet no harm done by me, nor so much as attempted? |
10462 | --creature if you be, forgive me!--forgive my inadvertencies!--forgive my inequalities!--pity my infirmities!--Who is equal to my Clarissa? |
10462 | Am I not a villain, a fool, a Beelzebub, with them already? |
10462 | Am I not obliged to deserve thy compliment? |
10462 | Am I not under a necessity, as it were, of quarrelling with him; at least every other time I see him? |
10462 | Am I not your general? |
10462 | And are not cautions against the perfidy of our sex a necessary part of the female education? |
10462 | And are not lovers''oaths a jest of hundreds of years''standing? |
10462 | And as it gives people the power of being mischievous, does it not require great virtue to forbear the use of that power? |
10462 | And did not Essex''s personal reflection on Queen Elizabeth, that she was old and crooked, contribute more to his ruin than his treason? |
10462 | And do you think, my worthy woman, do you think, that the wilful lapse of such a child is to be forgiven? |
10462 | And for what? |
10462 | And has, besides, overheard a conversation[ who would have thought she had been so near?] |
10462 | And have I so much as summoned this to surrender? |
10462 | And if I do her this justice, shall I not have a claim of her gratitude? |
10462 | And if I do, after prevailing( whether by surprise, or by reluctant consent) whom but myself shall I have injured? |
10462 | And is not the mind of a person strongly indicated by outward dress? |
10462 | And now, Jack, dost thou think she''ll attempt to get from me, do what I will? |
10462 | And so, Sir, taking all you say for granted, your cousin Montague can not come to Mrs. Sinclair''s? |
10462 | And that other great one, of fixing myself here night and day? |
10462 | And then it was with my hopes, and my hopes, and my hopes, that I should have been early admitted to-- What weather is it, Dorcas? |
10462 | And think you, my dear, that Scipio did not blush with indignation, when the charge was first communicated to him? |
10462 | And this will be a further proof of my love, and will demand a grateful return-- And what then, thou egregious contriver? |
10462 | And what a vulture of a man must he be, who souses upon his prey, and in the same moment trusses and devours? |
10462 | And what if she shows a great deal of concern? |
10462 | And what in saying this, and acting up to it, do I offer you, but the frits of a friendship your worth has created? |
10462 | And what shall deter an attempter? |
10462 | And what should it be but of the answer the truly admirable creature had intended to give to my written proposals in relation to settlements? |
10462 | And what the contents? |
10462 | And what were my four friends to her in her present circumstances? |
10462 | And what will being sick do for thee? |
10462 | And what will this do? |
10462 | And what woman answers affirmatively to the question? |
10462 | And who knows but that once indulgent uncle, who has very great weight in the family, may be induced to interpose in my behalf? |
10462 | And why do the sex love rakes, but because they know how to direct their uncertain wills, and manage them? |
10462 | And why sayest thou she loves me? |
10462 | And why shouldst thou punish me, for having more conscience and more remorse than thyself? |
10462 | And will not such a man as this engross all your solitudes? |
10462 | And will she not think herself the obliged, rather than the obliger? |
10462 | And would a man who has nothing but faults( for pray, Sir, what are your virtues?) |
10462 | And wouldst thou have me repent of a murder before I have committed it? |
10462 | And wouldst thou make her unhappy for her whole life, and thyself not happy for a single moment? |
10462 | And you say you have tried Mrs. Norton''s weight with my mother? |
10462 | And, indeed, what is a covetous man to be likened to so fitly, as to a dog in a wheel which roasts meat for others? |
10462 | Are there no pigeons and chickens in every poulterer''s shop? |
10462 | Are these sayings bad, Sir? |
10462 | Are they not now robbing his heirs?--What has thou to do, if the will be as thou''dst have it?--He sent for thee[ did he not?] |
10462 | Are we not children of this world? |
10462 | Are you not men born to considerable fortunes, although ye are not all of you men of parts? |
10462 | Art thou able to say half the things in her praise, that I have said, and am continually saying or writing? |
10462 | As the nymphs below ask, so do I, Why is night necessary? |
10462 | But after all, see you not, my dear, more and more, the mismatch that there is in our minds? |
10462 | But as for thy three brethren, they must do as I would have them: and so, indeed, must thou-- Else why am I your general? |
10462 | But can there be such apprehensions between them, yet the one advise her to stay, and the other resolve to wait my imperial motion for marriage? |
10462 | But didst ever hear who was the wisest woman? |
10462 | But do you call this odd soul''s letter[ no more will I call him old soul, if I can help it] a love- letter? |
10462 | But do you know the subject, Nancy? |
10462 | But here, Jack, what shall I do with my uncle and aunts, and all my loving cousins? |
10462 | But how shall I find this out; since her Dorcas knows no more of her dressing and undressing than her Lovelace? |
10462 | But in a play does not the principal entertainment lie in the first four acts? |
10462 | But is she, in the instance before us, more polite for a woman? |
10462 | But knowest thou not young Newcomb, honest Doleman''s newphew? |
10462 | But let me ask, Has it not been a constant maxim with us, that the greater the merit on the woman''s side, the nobler the victory on the man''s? |
10462 | But otherwise, he had seen as many contrite faces at the Royal Chapel, as any where else: and why not? |
10462 | But should she be so much grieved at this? |
10462 | But suppose a person of your talents were to marry a man of inferior talents; Who, in this case, can be so happy in herself as Miss Clarissa Harlowe? |
10462 | But thou wilt not drown the poor fellow; wilt thou? |
10462 | But what can you promise youself, as to perseverance in them, with an immoral husband? |
10462 | But what hinders you from leaving me?--Cannot I send to you? |
10462 | But what is become of Lord M. I trow, that he writes not to me, in answer to my invitation? |
10462 | But what is person with such a lady as I have the honour to be now writing to? |
10462 | But what is this saying, but that I must be first wiser? |
10462 | But what necessity can there be for hypocrisy, unless the generality of the sex were to refuse us for our immoralities? |
10462 | But what points will not perseverance carry? |
10462 | But what, said I, is the result of your inquiry? |
10462 | But why callest thou the lady innocent? |
10462 | But why do I translate these things for you? |
10462 | But why so, my dear? |
10462 | But why, now, when fairer prospects seem to open, why these melancholy reflections? |
10462 | But why, rather I should ask, will she fight against her stars? |
10462 | But why?--Do they think it so great a disgrace to be found out to be really what they are? |
10462 | But, after all, I am sorry, almost sorry( for how shall I do to be quite sorry, when it is not given to me to be so?) |
10462 | But, if not,[ was it his business, my dear, before I spoke( yet he seemed to be afraid of me) to say, if not?] |
10462 | But, if we are good- natured and humane: if the woman has art:[ and what woman wants it, who has fallen by art? |
10462 | Can a girl be degraded by trials, who is not overcome? |
10462 | Can not I find one yielding or but half- yielding moment, if she do not absolutely hate me? |
10462 | Can she herself think that she deserves not the severest punishment for the abuse of such talents as were intrusted to her? |
10462 | Can you hope, cousin, with such a man as this to be long so good as you now are? |
10462 | Canst thou doubt, that it was all complaisance next time she admitted me into her presence? |
10462 | Could a man act a weaker part, had he been really married; and were he sure he was going to separate from the mother of his own children? |
10462 | Could not the man have fallen into the subject without this parade? |
10462 | Could they expect, that a mother would not vindicate her authority? |
10462 | Courage whenever I assume, all is over: for, should she think of escaping from hence, whither can she fly to avoid me? |
10462 | D. Dear Madam, would you blame me, if to wish you not to marry Mr. Antony Harlowe, is to wish well to myself? |
10462 | D. From Mr. Antony Harlowe, I suppose, Madam? |
10462 | D. How can I expect, Madam, that you should refuse such terms? |
10462 | D. How, Madam, could I think of any body else? |
10462 | D. Then he is to come again, Madam? |
10462 | D. Will you forgive me, Madam? |
10462 | D. Without hearing the whole of the letter? |
10462 | Dear creature!--Did she never romp? |
10462 | Depend they not, generally, upon their fortunes, in the views they have upon us, more than on their merits? |
10462 | Did she never, from girlhood to now, hoyden? |
10462 | Didst thou ever know that a woman''s denial of any favour, whether the least or the greatest, that my heart was set upon, stood her in any stead? |
10462 | Do I what, Madam?--And why vile man? |
10462 | Do n''t you see that his very skin is a fortification of buff? |
10462 | Do n''t you think so, my dear? |
10462 | Do not girls of fortune adorn themselves on purpose to engage our attention? |
10462 | Do not the hunters of the noble game value the venison less than the sport? |
10462 | Do not the sex carry all their points with their men by the same methods? |
10462 | Do you defend these two gentlewomen, Sir, by reflections upon half the sex? |
10462 | Do you know how my poor Hannah does? |
10462 | Do you know, my dear, how this can be? |
10462 | Do you not think, my dear, that I have reason to be incensed at him, my situation considered? |
10462 | Does not the example you furnish, of having succeeded with her, give encouragement for others to attempt her likewise? |
10462 | Does not the keen fox- hunter endanger his neck and his bones in pursuit of a vermin, which, when killed, is neither fit food for men nor dogs? |
10462 | Dorcas is to be attached to her interest: my letters are to be come at by surprise or trick''-- What thinkest thou of this, Jack? |
10462 | Dost think I brought the dear creature hither for nothing? |
10462 | Even suppose the husband is in the wrong, will not this being so give the greater force to her expostulation? |
10462 | For what, with a mind so unequal as his, can be my best hope? |
10462 | For what? |
10462 | For why, in short, should not the work of bodies be left to mere bodies? |
10462 | For why, when they know they can not do good, may they not as well endeavour to gratify, as to nauseate, the patient''s palate? |
10462 | For why? |
10462 | God give us both comfort; and to the once dear-- the ever- dear creature( for can a mother forget her child?) |
10462 | Good!--But how wilt thou manage to bring up blood, and not hurt thyself? |
10462 | Has not she? |
10462 | Hast thou not observed, the charming gradations by which the ensnared volatile has been brought to bear with its new condition? |
10462 | Have I conversed with them so freely as I have done, and learnt nothing of them? |
10462 | Have I not always told thee so? |
10462 | Have I not called thine the plotting''st heart in the universe? |
10462 | Have I not said, that the honour of her sex is concerned that I should try? |
10462 | Have my uncles given their sanction, and made it a family act? |
10462 | Have you not been impoliticly shy of her? |
10462 | He is but an uncle, is he? |
10462 | He owns likewise that he has not the address of Mr. Lovelace: but what a mere personal advantage is a plausible address, without morals? |
10462 | He was full of excuses-- O my dear, what would you, even you, do with such a man as this; and in my situation? |
10462 | How can it be? |
10462 | How can she think to be a wife? |
10462 | How comes it to pass, that I can not help being pleased with this virago''s spirit, though I suffer by it? |
10462 | How could you brook to go backward, instead of forward, in those duties which you now so exemplarily perform? |
10462 | How dare I what, Madam? |
10462 | How dare I what? |
10462 | How dare you curse any body in my presence? |
10462 | How know I then, upon recollection, that my censures upon theirs are not too rash? |
10462 | How my indignation rises for this poor consolation in the courtship[ courtship must I call it?] |
10462 | How should I know, unless the dear creature had communicated them to me? |
10462 | Hudibras questions well,------What mad lover ever dy''d To gain a soft and easy bride? |
10462 | I am said, to doubt her love-- Have I not reason? |
10462 | I am sensible that my pleas and my reasoning may be easily answered, and perhaps justly censured; But by whom censured? |
10462 | I asked her, if she had had the small- pox? |
10462 | I find he was full of expectation that I should meet him with a very favourable, who knows but with a thankful, aspect? |
10462 | I need not bid you respect me mightily: your allegiance obliges you to that: And who that sees me, respects me not? |
10462 | I saw not, I said, begging her pardon, that she liked any body.--[Plain dealing for plain dealing, Jack!--Why then did she abuse my friends?] |
10462 | I took her reluctant hand, and pressed it to my lips.--Dearest, loveliest of creatures, why this distance? |
10462 | I would have flung from him in resentment; but he would not let me: and what could I do? |
10462 | If a woman suspects a rogue in an honest man, is it not enough to make the honest man who knows it a rogue? |
10462 | If he come, it will be in pursuance of that line, I presume? |
10462 | If now she has so little liking to his morals, has she not reason before to have as little? |
10462 | If such a man as Mr. Lovelace knows not this, who should? |
10462 | If they were faulty in some of the measures they took, while they themselves did not think so, who shall judge for them? |
10462 | If women have such things in their heads, why should not I in my heart? |
10462 | If you ask me, my dear, how this caution befits me? |
10462 | If your parents and you differ in sentiment on this important occasion, let me ask you, my dear cousin, who ought to give way? |
10462 | In what light am I to look upon you? |
10462 | Is he not? |
10462 | Is it he? |
10462 | Is it not generally agreed that he can not recover? |
10462 | Is it not plain, my dear, that he designs to vex and tease me? |
10462 | Is not all in a manner over when you come to the fifth? |
10462 | Is not the devil said to be the god of this world? |
10462 | Is not the world full of these deceptions? |
10462 | Is the devil in the girl? |
10462 | Is the passion you boast of to be thus shockingly demonstrated? |
10462 | Is this to be borne by a Lovelace? |
10462 | Knowest thou not, that I am a great name- father? |
10462 | M. And suppose he be? |
10462 | M. Old soul, Nancy!--And thus to call him for being a bachelor, not having a child!--Does this become you? |
10462 | M. That sum has your approbation then? |
10462 | M. What now would the pert one be at? |
10462 | M. What would the girl say? |
10462 | M.[ Lips drawn closer: eye raised] Why, my dear!--I can not but own-- But how, I wonder, could you think of Mr. Anthony Harlowe? |
10462 | May I be allowed to read his letter? |
10462 | Memorandum, To be considered of-- Whether, in order to complete my vengeance, I can not contrive to kidnap away either James Harlowe or Solmes? |
10462 | Mennell? |
10462 | Most confoundedly alarmed!--Lord, Sir, what do you think? |
10462 | Mrs. Sinclair came out at that instant, and asked me, if I did not choose a dish of chocolate? |
10462 | Must I not with such a man, says she, be wanting to myself, were I not jealous and vigilant? |
10462 | Must it not even rise strongest upon a thoughtful mind, when her hopes are the fairest? |
10462 | My cursed character, as I have often said, was against me at setting out--Yet is she not a woman? |
10462 | My dearest creature, need I to have mentioned any thing of this? |
10462 | My dearest life,[ taking her still folded hands in mine,] who can bear an invocation so affecting, though so passionate? |
10462 | My dearest love, are you well? |
10462 | My dearest, dearest creature, would you incur a maternal, as I have a paternal, malediction? |
10462 | Nor was my Rosebud the only girl I spared:--When my power was acknowledged, who more merciful than thy friend? |
10462 | Now, Belford, were I to go no farther than I have gone with my beloved Miss Harlowe, how shall I know the difference between her and another bird? |
10462 | Now, my dear, is not this a particular incident, either as I have made it, or as it was designed? |
10462 | O my beloved creature, will not this be agreeable to you? |
10462 | O my dearest life, said he, why will you banish me from your presence? |
10462 | On my return, meeting Dorcas on the stairs-- Your lady in her chamber, Dorcas? |
10462 | Or shall I roundly accost him, in the words, in the form, which you, my dear, prescribed? |
10462 | Or, for a lady tender- hearted, In purling streams, or hemp, departed? |
10462 | Rememebrest thou not this scene? |
10462 | Seek they not to draw us into their snares? |
10462 | Shall we deprive them of the benefit of their principal dependence?--Can I, in particular, marry every girl who wishes to obtain my notice? |
10462 | She asked, if she might take a copy of Miss Montague''s letter? |
10462 | She found, said he, that I was unable to determine about entering upon it; and now who knows when such a vapourish creature will come to a resolution? |
10462 | She is in my eye all mind: and were she to meet with a man all mind likewise, why should the charming qualities she is mistress of be endangered? |
10462 | She proceeded: What now remains, but that you pronounce me free of all obligation to you? |
10462 | Should she attempt to fly me upon it, can not I detain her? |
10462 | Sick!--Why sick? |
10462 | So likewise her father fears; her brother hears; and what can I do? |
10462 | Suppose I were to be unhappy, what, my dear, would this resolution of yours avail me? |
10462 | Tell me, Madam, I conjure you to tell me, this moment, without subterfuge or reserve, in what light am I to appear to you in future? |
10462 | The dear girl hoped that nothing had passed in her behaviour to give me dislike to her.--Should she bring her to me? |
10462 | The first word he asked Dorcas, was, If I had received a letter since he had been out? |
10462 | The more noble any one is, the more humble; so bear with me, if you would be thought noble.--Am I not your uncle? |
10462 | The women below say she hates me; she despises me!--And''tis true: she does; she must.--And why can not I take their advice? |
10462 | Then so sensual!--How will a young lady of your delicacy bear with so sensual a man? |
10462 | Then turning to him, I asked, if he kept me there his prisoner? |
10462 | There, Belford!--Worse off than Mercury!--Art thou not? |
10462 | They doubt not my generosity, they say: But why for my own sake, in Lord M.''s style, should I make so long a harvest of so little corn? |
10462 | Those, Mr. Belford, who most love, are least set by.--But who would expect velvet to be made out of a sow''s ear? |
10462 | To stand by, and see fair play between an old man and death? |
10462 | Was not this my motive for bringing her hither? |
10462 | Was not this plain speaking, think you, my dear? |
10462 | Well then, will he not be obliged to declare himself? |
10462 | Well, but shall we not be in danger of being hanged for three such enormous rapes, although Hickman should escape with only a bellyful of sea- water? |
10462 | Well, but to the letter-- Yet what need of further explanation after the hints in my former? |
10462 | Well, then, shall this poor privilege, that we may part with a woman if we will, be deemed a balance for the other inconveniencies? |
10462 | Were not hesitation, a self- felt glow, a downcast eye, encouragement more than enough? |
10462 | What a figure should I make in rakish annals, if at last I should be caught in my own gin? |
10462 | What a- devil shouldst thou be sick for? |
10462 | What could I say? |
10462 | What for? |
10462 | What is it, pray? |
10462 | What is the whole world to me, weighed against such a friend as you are? |
10462 | What is there in an easy conquest? |
10462 | What may happen next, whether a storm or a calm, with such a spirit as I have to deal with, who can tell? |
10462 | What room for delicacy now?--Or would you have me write to him? |
10462 | What sayest thou to this, Jack? |
10462 | What signifies her keeping me thus at a distance? |
10462 | What signifies power, if we do not exert it? |
10462 | What signifies thy tedious whining over thy departing relation? |
10462 | What therefore, upon the whole, do we get by treading in these crooked paths, but danger, disgrace, and a too- late repentance? |
10462 | What think you, my dear, of this expedient? |
10462 | What think you? |
10462 | What woulds''t thou more? |
10462 | What''s the matter now? |
10462 | What, in the first place, wilt thou ask, shall be done with Hickman? |
10462 | What, my dearest cousin, shall I plead first to you on this occasion? |
10462 | What, pray, Sir, can be pleaded for the condescension, as you call it? |
10462 | What, pray, is her objection to Mrs. Sinclair''s? |
10462 | What, says he, might have become of me, and of my projects, had not her father, and the rest of the implacables, stood my friends? |
10462 | Whither go, the evening advanced? |
10462 | Who can account for the workings of an apprehensive mind, when all that is dear and valuable to it is at stake? |
10462 | Who is it in this mortal life that wealth does not mislead? |
10462 | Who knows, but on that very Monday night I may be so unhappy as to give mortal offence to my beloved? |
10462 | Who knows, she says, but her dear friend was permitted to swerve, in order to bring about his reformation? |
10462 | Who so proper to assist in making new holding laws, as those whom no law in being could hold? |
10462 | Who, that hath such, will let''em be idle? |
10462 | Why can not I make every day equally happy? |
10462 | Why look you so solemn upon me? |
10462 | Why should I mince the matter? |
10462 | Why should he wish to expose his children to the scorn and insults of the rest of the world? |
10462 | Why should such an angel be plunged so low as into the vulgar offices of a domestic life? |
10462 | Why that word approbation? |
10462 | Why then I shall have the less remorse, if I am to use a little violence: for can she deserve compassion, who shows none? |
10462 | Why then do they keep tormenting him? |
10462 | Why then does my foolish fondness seek to establish for her the same merit in my heart, as if she avowed it? |
10462 | Why then should you hesitate a moment to confirm my happiness? |
10462 | Why, again I repeat, should he have been desirous to bring me into such company? |
10462 | Why, my dear, if you love me, will you not rather give another friend to one who has not two she is sure of? |
10462 | Why, once more, would you banish me from you? |
10462 | Why, why, my dear, will you fright me with your flaming love? |
10462 | Why? |
10462 | Will it not be kind in thee to put him out of his misery? |
10462 | Will you say, your merits, either with regard to them, or to myself, may? |
10462 | Will your indifference never be over? |
10462 | With whom, think you? |
10462 | Would I vouchsafe to say, whether I approved of his compliment to Lord M. or not? |
10462 | Would not a brave fellow choose to appear in court to such an arraignment, confronting women who would do credit to his attempt? |
10462 | Would not the world think there was an infection in my fault, if it were to be followed by Miss Howe? |
10462 | Would to heaven-- but what signifies wishing? |
10462 | Yes, to be sure, when caught-- But is there any likelihood of that?-- Besides, have we not been in danger before now for worse facts? |
10462 | Yet considers not that a woman so perfect can never be displeased with her husband but to his disgrace: For who will blame her? |
10462 | Yet do not her parents richly deserve to be in tears? |
10462 | Yet the former with a freer will than the latter; for how can I leave my goddess? |
10462 | Yet, how my soul thirsts for revenge upon both these ladies? |
10462 | You are sure, that you can go abroad when you please? |
10462 | You give yourself very free airs-- don''t you? |
10462 | You will believe I can not: for how shall I tell him that all his compliments are misbestowed? |
10462 | a man who makes a jest of his vows? |
10462 | all his warnings vain? |
10462 | and after sitting up with you, equally against my will, till a very late hour? |
10462 | and do I not design to be better to you than your father could be? |
10462 | and how do you know, if you once give way, where you shall be suffered, where you shall be able, to stop? |
10462 | and is it thus you would entrap me? |
10462 | and that even my highest expectation is to be the wife of that free- liver, whom he so pathetically warns me to shun? |
10462 | and that our correspondence is safe? |
10462 | and that you hinder me not from pursuing the destiny that shall be allotted me? |
10462 | and to whose precarious situation art is so necessary?] |
10462 | and why should he make them think themselves under obligation to every person of character, who will vouchsafe to visit them? |
10462 | and wouldst thou give operation and completion to that curse, which otherwise can not have effect? |
10462 | are they to be despised?--Well, then, why should I be despised for remembering them, and quoting them, as I love to do? |
10462 | as I have often said, can not you touch a lady''s heart without wounding her ear? |
10462 | betrayed by his own tenderness, and unused to female tears, would have been overcome? |
10462 | expect that I should show a value for him? |
10462 | for what relation has a lover''s heart to a rusty pair of hinges? |
10462 | if this be right to be done, how difficult is it, where modesty and self( or where pride, if you please) is concerned, to do that right? |
10462 | is it not enough that she is teased and tormented in person by me? |
10462 | or both? |
10462 | said I, can you think I have not some curiosity? |
10462 | said I.--If you are a man of honour, what need of all this strange obliquity? |
10462 | she may not yield to nightly surprises? |
10462 | that all his advice is thrown away? |
10462 | was it not, my dear? |
10462 | watchful as you are, what could have happened? |
10462 | when the greatest pride of all my family is, that of having the honour of so dear a creature for their relation? |
10462 | why comest thou not just now, while these black prospects are before me? |
10462 | why this displeasure?--How can you thus torture the faithfullest heart in the world? |
10462 | will my beloved friend ask of her Clarissa? |
10462 | with a trembling impatience, that seemed not affected-- What say you for to- morrow? |
10462 | wouldst thou not have me act in character? |
9881 | ''And wilt thou, Lovelace, abuse that power which--''Which what, Belford? |
9881 | ''Are not provocations and temptations the tests of virtue? |
9881 | ''Do you incline to go to Florence to your cousin Morden? |
9881 | ''Forgive me, Madam-- I have just done-- Have I not, in your opinion, hazarded my life to redeem you from oppression? |
9881 | ''Is there but one Lovelace in the world? |
9881 | ''May not then the success of him, who could carry her thus far, be allowed to be an encouragement for him to try to carry her farther?'' |
9881 | ''Now, what were her inducements to this correspondence?'' |
9881 | ''That her regrets increase instead of diminish? |
9881 | ''That she shall not be easy while she is with me? |
9881 | ''Was a person of virtue to be prevailed upon to break through her apparent, her acknowledged duty, upon any consideration?'' |
9881 | ( methinks thou askest with surprise) Dost thou question this most admirable of women?--The virtue of a CLARISSA dost thou question? |
9881 | * Canst thou tell me, Jack, who says this? |
9881 | * Why should you not have permitted him to send for Lord M.''s chaplain? |
9881 | * Yet what means the man by foregoing the opportunities he has had to declare himself?--What mean his complaints of my restrictions to Mrs. Greme? |
9881 | *) make me unhappy, when novelty has lost its charms, and when, mind and person, she is all my own? |
9881 | ***** What can be done with a woman who is above flattery, and despises all praise but that which flows from the approbation of her own heart? |
9881 | -- But pray, Sir, interrupting him, how came you to apprehend that I should revoke my intention? |
9881 | A Clarissa!--Was your love for such a man above your reason? |
9881 | Above your resolution? |
9881 | All hands at work in preparation for London.--What makes my heart beat so strong? |
9881 | All this is mighty good, Sir: But to what does it tend? |
9881 | Am I already lord of the destiny of a Clarissa Harlowe? |
9881 | Am I already the reformed man thou resolvest I should be, before I had the least encouragement given me? |
9881 | And I verily think I should be inclined to spare her all further trial( and yet what trial has she had?) |
9881 | And again the wretch, instead of pressing his former question, asked me, If I forgave him for the humble suit he had made to me? |
9881 | And am I so reduced, as that, to save the poor remains of my reputation in the world''s eye, I must watch the gracious motion from this man''s lips? |
9881 | And as to this man, what can I do? |
9881 | And can I be a villain to such an angel!--I hope not-- But why, Belford, why, once more, puttest thou me in mind, that she may be overcome? |
9881 | And can she keep this love at bay? |
9881 | And can there be a necessity for me to answer this? |
9881 | And can you not think it is hard for a good parent to imagine herself under the unhappy necessity of so treating her woman- grown daughter? |
9881 | And do I not see that I shall need nothing but patience, in order to have all power with me? |
9881 | And do not her faults bring more disgrace upon a husband than even upon herself?'' |
9881 | And does this lady spare me? |
9881 | And for which her own family will not forgive her? |
9881 | And had not the rencounter then happened? |
9881 | And if he had, would not there have been an end of all his pretensions and hopes? |
9881 | And is her virtue founded in pride?--And, if the answer to these questions be affirmative, must she not then be a woman?'' |
9881 | And is not the man the most wicked of plotters? |
9881 | And is she capable of affectation? |
9881 | And may not such an apprehension give her an irreconcilable displeasure against me? |
9881 | And now I mention that letter, why dost thou not wish me joy, Jack? |
9881 | And now, Belford, what wilt thou say, if, like the fly buzzing about the bright taper, I had like to have singed the silken wings of my liberty? |
9881 | And now, let me tell thee, that never was joy so complete as mine!--But let me inquire, is not the angel flown away? |
9881 | And shall I marry a woman, who has given me reason to doubt the preference she has for me? |
9881 | And shall I not first see the issue of one application? |
9881 | And shall that necessary increase of care sit uneasy upon us, because we are grown up to stature and womanhood? |
9881 | And then I asked him, what he really, and in his most deliberate mind, would advise me to, in my present situation? |
9881 | And then for a little hint at reprisal-- am I not justified in my resolutions of trying her virtue, who is resolved, as I may say, to try mine? |
9881 | And then, did I ever make him any promises? |
9881 | And what can a lover say to his mistress, if she will neither let him lie nor swear? |
9881 | And what could the lady say to this? |
9881 | And what did you intend to do to Mr. Solmes? |
9881 | And what have you not borne from them? |
9881 | And what results?--''Is then the divine Clarissa capable of loving a man whom she ought not to love? |
9881 | And what was this? |
9881 | And what, Madam, will gaining time do? |
9881 | And what, at this rate, is the general conclusion to be drawn from the premises?--Is it not, That no man ought to be vain? |
9881 | And when our dangers multiply, both from within and without, do not our parents know, that their vigilance ought to be doubled? |
9881 | And whether she be to be a wife at the first or at the second hand? |
9881 | And who ever knew a rake stick at any thing? |
9881 | And who has a right to controul a father''s judgment in his own family, and in relation to his own child? |
9881 | And who knows what opportunities a man in love may have against himself? |
9881 | And who shall put her to this trial? |
9881 | And why is her own reliance on my honour so late and so reluctantly shown? |
9881 | And why shouldst thou tempt her virtue?--Why shouldst thou wish to try where there is no reason to doubt? |
9881 | And will not the reflections upon that wrong( what though it may be construed in my favour? |
9881 | And will you, will you thus ungenerously, Mr. Lovelace, take advantage of my fears? |
9881 | And wo n''t it be admirable, if, either through fear, fright, or good liking, we can get my beloved to accept of Dorcas Wykes for a bed- fellow? |
9881 | And yet, on second thoughts, am I not a rake, as it is called? |
9881 | And you will be honnerable and kind to my dearest young lady, God love her.--But who can be unkind to she? |
9881 | And, if not, was she to be so prevailed upon to prevent an apprehended evil only? |
9881 | And, indeed, for what now should she plot? |
9881 | Are you not gone off?--With a Lovelace too? |
9881 | But I am afraid that you was too scrupulous: for did he not resent that reference? |
9881 | But again, let me stop.--Is there not something wrong, has there not been something wrong, in this divine creature? |
9881 | But are not all rakes sad fellows?--And art not thou, to thy little power, as bad as any? |
9881 | But can it be your opinion, that he intends to humble me down to the level of his mean pride? |
9881 | But can the heart of man be so very vile? |
9881 | But do you think I might not be safe and private in London? |
9881 | But had he not been passive, as you call it, what would you have done to Mr. Solmes? |
9881 | But has she had the candour, the openness, to acknowledge that love? |
9881 | But has she not, as above, already taken steps, which she herself condemns? |
9881 | But here comes the widow with Dorcas Wykes in her hand, and I am to introduce them both to my fair- one? |
9881 | But how came it to pass, that one man could get out at the garden- door, and no more? |
9881 | But how shall I do to make my fair- one keep her temper on the intimation? |
9881 | But how wilt thou hinder the lady from apprizing her friend of the real name? |
9881 | But if she will not, what a selfishness would there be in my love to you, were I to wish you to forego your duty for my sake? |
9881 | But if you had not met him, you see that he was resolved to visit them, and well attended too: and what must have been the consequence? |
9881 | But in exercising that talent, chooses rather to turn its eye outward than inward? |
9881 | But is it not a confounded thing that I can not fasten an obligation upon this proud beauty? |
9881 | But is it not my duty to try for it? |
9881 | But is not that pride abated? |
9881 | But knowest thou not my aversion to the state of shackles?--And is she not IN MY POWER? |
9881 | But let me ask thee, Is not calamity the test of virtue? |
9881 | But let me ask you, Madam, What have you borne from me? |
9881 | But let me, in my turn, ask thee-- Is not, may not her virtue be founded rather in pride than in principle? |
9881 | But once more, consider, could you possibly obtain that delay which seems to be your only dependence, whether you may not be closer confined? |
9881 | But seest thou not now( as I think I do) the wind outstripping fair one flying from her love to her love? |
9881 | But since I can not, will you be so good as to tell me what you would wish to have done? |
9881 | But what could I say to this?--Extorted from him, as it seemed to me, rather as the effect of his compassion than his love? |
9881 | But what dost think Deb''s name is to be? |
9881 | But what, methinks thou askest, is to become of the lady if she fail? |
9881 | But why did not the man show me these letters last night? |
9881 | But why should she be more concerned for the safety of others than they were for their own? |
9881 | But why shoulde it? |
9881 | But why will this admirable creature urge her destiny? |
9881 | But why, as in the chariot, as in the inn, at alighting, all heart- bursting grief, my dearest creature? |
9881 | But why, but why unhappy, my dearest life? |
9881 | But you ask me, if I would treat Mr. Lovelace, were he to be in Mr. Hickman''s place, as I do Mr. Hickman? |
9881 | But you want to clear up things-- what can you clear up? |
9881 | But, once more, can it be? |
9881 | By all this, seest thou not how greatly preferable it is, on twenty accounts, to pursue a difficult rather than an easy chace? |
9881 | By such exalted qualities? |
9881 | Ca n''t you go on, Sir? |
9881 | Ca n''t you go on, Sir? |
9881 | Can I avoid concern, when those bickerings are on my account? |
9881 | Can he, dare he, mock the Almighty? |
9881 | Can she make him, who has been accustomed to triumph over other women, tremble? |
9881 | Can you expect to be happy? |
9881 | Can you think that Heaven will seal to the black passions of its depraved creatures? |
9881 | Common bruit!--Is virtue to be established by common bruit only?--Has her virtue ever been proved?--Who has dared to try her virtue? |
9881 | Did I ever profess a love for him? |
9881 | Did I ever wish for the continuance of his address? |
9881 | Did I not furnish you with stories enough, without hers, against myself, to augment your credit with your cunning masters? |
9881 | Did she ever receive him as a lover? |
9881 | Did she ever, she asks, make him any promises? |
9881 | Did she persist in it against parental prohibition? |
9881 | Did they not, at their own church, cluster together like bees, when they saw me enter it? |
9881 | Did you not do for the best at the time? |
9881 | Didst thou ever before hear of a man uttering solemn things by an involuntary impulse, in defiance of premeditation, and of all his proud schemes? |
9881 | Do n''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? |
9881 | Do not their grandmothers give them one easy rule-- Men are to ask-- Women are to deny? |
9881 | Do you propose, Sir, said I, to take up your lodgings in the house where I shall lodge? |
9881 | Do you think me the jay in the fable? |
9881 | Do you think that my unhappy circumstances will alter my notions of my own duty so far as I shall be enabled to perform it? |
9881 | Does not your brother''s project convince you more and more of this? |
9881 | Does she not outdo me at every fair weapon? |
9881 | Except your mother, who has no will of her own, have any of them common sense? |
9881 | For how should I have resisted a condescending, a kneeling father, had he been able to have kept his temper with me? |
9881 | For in that period do we not generally attract the eyes of the other sex, and become the subject of their addresses, and not seldom of their attempts? |
9881 | For is not a wife the keeper of a man''s honour? |
9881 | Grief so extreme: no pleasure in prospect, nor so much as in wish-- O my dear, who could think of entering into so solemn an engagement? |
9881 | Has not God commanded us to bless and curse not? |
9881 | Has not your family, Madam, some one tradesman they deal with, who has conveniences of this kind? |
9881 | Has she been capable of error? |
9881 | Has she not made me doubt her love? |
9881 | Has she not taken officious pains to declare that she was not averse to Solmes for any respect she had to me? |
9881 | Hast thou not been a witness of my ravings on this score? |
9881 | Hast thou not reason to think it so? |
9881 | Have I not had it in my heart to do some good that thou canst not remind me of? |
9881 | Have I not, in the height of them, vowed revenge upon the faithless charmer? |
9881 | Have I offered to defy the laws of society, as this brother of yours must do, if any thing be intended by this project? |
9881 | Have we not suffered in the same cause? |
9881 | Have you any acquaintance at Windsor? |
9881 | He asked me to give him leave to propose, whether I chose to set out next day to either of his aunts? |
9881 | He asked whether I would choose to lodge in the town of Windsor, or out of it? |
9881 | He asked, if I had considered whither to have them directed? |
9881 | He had the thought which I had not( for what had I to do with thinking, who had it not when I stood most in need of it?) |
9881 | He is not a bashful man.--But you say, I inspire people with an awe of me.--An awe, my dear!--As how? |
9881 | How can I obtain possession without litigation, and but by my trustees? |
9881 | How can a daughter of spirits bear such language; such looks too with the language; and not have a longing mind to disobey? |
9881 | How comes it about, I wonder, that a young lady so noted for predominating generosity, should not be uniformly generous? |
9881 | How could this man, with such powers of right thinking, be so far depraved by evil habits, as to disgrace his talents by wrong acting? |
9881 | How often, Mr. Lovelace, must I repeat, that I will not litigate with my father? |
9881 | How shall I take it? |
9881 | Humble a woman, and may she not be effectually humbled? |
9881 | I am accustomed to be preferred, let me tell thee, by thy equals in rank too, though thy inferiors in merit: But who is not so? |
9881 | I asked him( to hear what he would say) if he could recommend me to any particular place in London? |
9881 | I asked him, if he thought such enormities as these, such defiances of the laws of society, would have passed unpunished? |
9881 | I asked, in some confusion, what he would say? |
9881 | I do to every body; and why? |
9881 | I have but this one chance for it; for is not the day after to- morrow Wednesday? |
9881 | I intended, indeed, to have stood it: And, if I had, how know I by whose name I might now have been called? |
9881 | I may send to you, although you are forbid to write to me; may I not?--For that is not a correspondence( is it?) |
9881 | I now, my dear, began to revive into a little more warmth of attention.--''And all, Madam, for what?'' |
9881 | I shall have him[ Who knows?] |
9881 | I think you mentioned one to me, Sir-- Did you not? |
9881 | I told him I designed to do so, through you-- And shall I beg of you, my dear, to cause the honest creature to be sent to? |
9881 | If I can have her without marriage, who can blame me for trying? |
9881 | If all this is heavy, lay your hand to your heart, and ask yourself, why you have deserved it? |
9881 | If he has had any extraordinary trouble on my account, may he not thank himself for it? |
9881 | If his pretences to reformation are but pretences, what must be his intent? |
9881 | If impeccable, how came she by her impeccability? |
9881 | If mutual, does it not imply mutual trust, mutual confidence? |
9881 | If not what her niceness makes her think blameworthy, why does she blame herself? |
9881 | If not, what may be the consequence? |
9881 | If thou designest to be honest, methinkst thou sayest, Why should not Singleton''s plot be over with thee, as it is with her brother? |
9881 | If well, whose modesty is it he distresses, but that of his own wife? |
9881 | If you would have me rely upon your honour, why should you doubt of mine? |
9881 | In justice to the man I shall have, I have vowed this: for, my dear, must I not be miserable, if you are so? |
9881 | In what a strong light, then, must that error appear to her, that should so totally turn her heart against me, herself not a principal in the case? |
9881 | In what manner do you expect to confirm it? |
9881 | Indeed, my dear, I was very ill. And was I, moreover, to be as ready to accept his offer as if I were afraid he never would repeat it? |
9881 | Is every body to take advantage thus of the weakness of my temper? |
9881 | Is it in my power to take your advice, if I should think it ever so right to take it? |
9881 | Is it not dealing ingenuously? |
9881 | Is it now, my dear, a time for you to be afraid of being precipitated? |
9881 | Is it so hard for you, my dear, to be treated like a child? |
9881 | Is it thus, that the more thou knowest me, the less thou seest reason to approve of me?--And can art and design enter into a breast so celestial? |
9881 | Is not that seen every day, from the prince to the peasant? |
9881 | Is not the space from sixteen to twenty- one that which requires this care, more than at any time of a young woman''s life? |
9881 | Is not then the whole sex concerned that this trial should be made? |
9881 | Is this a time, Mr. Lovelace, is this a proper occasion taken, to give yourself these high airs to me, a young creature destitute of protection? |
9881 | It would be a miracle, as thou sayest, if this lady can save herself-- And having gone so far, how can I recede? |
9881 | It would be a pain to either to do so: What then is it in either''s approving of her own natural bias, but making a virtue of necessity? |
9881 | Jack, when I see my angel, when I am admitted to the presence of this radiant beauty, what will become of all this vapouring? |
9881 | James and Arabella may have their motives; but what can be said for a father acting as this father has acted? |
9881 | Joy, of what? |
9881 | Let LOVE then be the motive:--Love of whom? |
9881 | Let me go back, then-- let me, before it is too late, go back, that it may not be worse for both-- What mean you by this forcible treatment? |
9881 | Let me hear, said I,( willing to try if he had any particular view,) what you think most advisable? |
9881 | Lord have mercy upon me!--But can it be? |
9881 | Love you still!--How can I help it, if I would? |
9881 | Lovelace?--said I-- Would you thus expose yourself? |
9881 | Malice and ill- will, sitting in judgment upon my character, may not give sentence in my favour: But what of your own knowledge have you against me? |
9881 | May I send it safely by your old man? |
9881 | May not more Lovelaces be attracted by so fine a figure? |
9881 | May there not be other Lovelaces, thou askest, who, attracted by her beauty, may endeavour to prevail with her? |
9881 | Mean time, would I go to Lady Betty Lawrance''s( Lady Sarah was a melancholy woman)? |
9881 | More than a match? |
9881 | Must I never be at liberty to follow my own judgment? |
9881 | Must not all, the dreadful all follow, that is torture to my heart but to think of? |
9881 | 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? |
9881 | My maiden vow, as I may call it!--For did not the sex begin with me? |
9881 | My mind is, that you, Sir, should leave me out of hand-- How often must I tell you so? |
9881 | Nor ask thou, shall the man be guilty, yet expect the woman to be guiltless, and even unsuspectible? |
9881 | O Sir, do you want to be complimented into repentance and salvation? |
9881 | O my dearest creature, do these preparations mean only a trial? |
9881 | Of persisting in that error? |
9881 | One evil draws on another after it; and how knows she, or any body, where it may stop? |
9881 | Or is it Solomon?--King Solomon-- Thou remembrest to have read of such a king, dost thou not? |
9881 | Ought not a balance to be struck; and the credit carried to my account?--Yet I must own too, that I half grudge Johnny this blooming maiden? |
9881 | Shall I go and fetch the worthy woman myself? |
9881 | Shall I send? |
9881 | Shall not others as they please? |
9881 | She consented; and asked what security I expected? |
9881 | She must first know it herself, monkey, must she not? |
9881 | She would not see him in a dishabille for the world-- What can she mean by it? |
9881 | Shun not, therefore, my dear soul, further trials, nor hate me for making them.--''For what woman can be said to be virtuous till she has been tried? |
9881 | So lively the one, so vigilant, so prudent both, who would not wish to outwit such girls, and to be able to twirl them round his finger? |
9881 | So, Sir, you would have me employ a lawyer, would you, notwithstanding what I have ever declared as to litigating with my father? |
9881 | Steps, which the world and her own family did not think her capable of taking? |
9881 | Surely I am my own mistress: surely I need not ask your leave to make what terms I please for myself, so long as I break none with you? |
9881 | Tell me not of politeness; tell me not of generosity; tell me not of compassion-- Is she not a match for me? |
9881 | That I am not one who improve upon her in my conversation and address?'' |
9881 | That if I think she deserves the compliments I make her, I may pride myself in those arts, by which I have made a fool of so extraordinary a person? |
9881 | That she knows better than to value herself upon my volubility? |
9881 | That she shall never forgive herself for meeting me, nor me for seducing her away?'' |
9881 | That she will take care of herself; and, since her friends thing it not worth while to pursue her, she will be left to her own care? |
9881 | That they are raised( instigated shall I say?) |
9881 | That you are determined to have it in your power to favour or reject me totally, as you please?'' |
9881 | That your generosity should fail in an instance where policy, prudence, gratitude, would not permit it to fail? |
9881 | The man to be so bashful; the woman to want so much courting!--How shall two such come together-- no kind mediatress in the way? |
9881 | The wretch you are with, we are told, is every hour triumphing and defying-- Must not these informations aggravate? |
9881 | Then who says Miss Clarissa Harlowe is the paragon of virtue?--Is virtue itself? |
9881 | Then, what a triumph would it be to the Harlowe pride, were I now to marry this lady? |
9881 | Thou seest what bias here takes-- And wilt thou doubt that mine will be determined by it? |
9881 | To banish me from thee, to insist so rigorously upon my absence, in order to bring me closer to thee, and make the blessing dear? |
9881 | To be clamoured at for repairs studied for, rather than really wanted? |
9881 | To be denied a fox- chace, for breaking down a fence upon my own grounds? |
9881 | To leave you now, would be to lose you for ever-- Am I to be thus compelled? |
9881 | To my point--''What must that virtue be which will not stand a trial?--What that woman who would wish to shun it?'' |
9881 | To the test then, as I said, since now I have the question brought home to me, Whether I am to have a wife? |
9881 | Upon these principles, what had I to do but to construe her silence into contemptuous displeasure? |
9881 | Was a daughter ever known who had higher notions of the filial duty, of the parental authority? |
9881 | Was he afraid of giving me too much pleasure? |
9881 | Was he not called, by his very soldiers, on one of his triumphant entries into Rome, the bald- pated lecher? |
9881 | Was it Socrates? |
9881 | Was not the great Caesar a great rake as to women? |
9881 | Was there ever a giddier creature?--Yet this is the celebrated, the blazing Clarissa-- Clarissa what? |
9881 | We have had a charming dialogue-- She flung from me in a passion-- So-- What''s now to be done? |
9881 | Well, but how comes all this about? |
9881 | Well, but what in such a situation is to be done? |
9881 | Were not her faults, before this, numerous enough? |
9881 | Were not his objections as to the publicness of the place, I asked him, as strong now as before? |
9881 | What a wicked schemer you are, Sir!--Who shall avenge upon you the still greater evils which you have been guilty of? |
9881 | What an useful lesson would this afford, were it properly inculcated at the time that the tempted mind was balancing upon a doubtful adventure? |
9881 | What books can tell her more than she knows? |
9881 | What can one oppose but sullens, when it would be unpardonable so much as to think of lifting up a finger? |
9881 | What cause have I given you to treat me with so much severity and so little confidence? |
9881 | What could I say? |
9881 | What could he mean by letting slip such a one as that you mention? |
9881 | What do I keep fellows idling in the country for, but to fall in love, and even to marry those whom I would have them marry? |
9881 | What followed this execution? |
9881 | What for a mother? |
9881 | What for an aunt? |
9881 | What for uncles?--Who can have patience with such fellows and fellowesses? |
9881 | What had I to do but to try for a palliation of my confusion, since it served me not? |
9881 | What is that, Sir? |
9881 | What is the conclusion to be drawn from these premises? |
9881 | What is the love of a rakish heart? |
9881 | What likelihood of corrupting a man who has no hope, no ambition? |
9881 | What may not both men and women be brought to do in a mortified state? |
9881 | What mean you, Mr. Lovelace? |
9881 | What means he by it, she asks, yet forego such opportunities as he had? |
9881 | What mind is superior to calamity? |
9881 | What now sayest thou to me, Belford? |
9881 | What politeness can be expected from such a man? |
9881 | What say you, Mr. Lovelace? |
9881 | What sayest thou to the lady, Jack? |
9881 | What signifies wishing, my dear? |
9881 | What will signify expostulations against a ceremony performed? |
9881 | What, my dear, would you clear up? |
9881 | What?--Why will she not,''if once subdued, be always subdued?'' |
9881 | When a general must regulate himself by the motions of a watchful adversary, how can he say beforehand what he will, or what he will not, do? |
9881 | When has that been questionable? |
9881 | When we had got in the chariot, and it began to move, he asked me, whether I had any objection to go to Lord M.''s Hertfordshire seat? |
9881 | Whence can this be, but from a likeness in nature? |
9881 | Whence this change, Sir? |
9881 | Whether I chose to go to either of Lord M.''s seats; that of Berks, or that in the county we were in? |
9881 | Whether I chose to have private lodgings procured for me in either of those ladies''neighbourhood, as were once my thoughts? |
9881 | Whither, Sir, do you draw me?--Leave me this moment-- Do you seek to keep me till my return shall grow dangerous or impracticable? |
9881 | Who can avoid hesitating when he thinks of an offence against her? |
9881 | Who has declared that she will not marry me, till she has hopes of my reformation? |
9881 | Who knows what such a man may do? |
9881 | Who will be afraid of a trail for this divine creature? |
9881 | Who will dare to form plots and stratagems against my wife? |
9881 | Who, so unprepared, could seem to be so ready? |
9881 | Whose daughter is she?--And is she not a daughter? |
9881 | Why did you meet him then, chariot and six, horsemen, all prepared by him? |
9881 | Why mention you, my dear, the saving you from mortifications, who have gone off with a man? |
9881 | Why rises it to my throat in such half- choking flutters, when I think of what this removal may do for me? |
9881 | Why said he with a man, instead of with him? |
9881 | Why should I not, when it is as much the desire of my heart, as it is of thine, to prevent mischief? |
9881 | Why should narrowness run away with the praises due to a noble expansion of heart? |
9881 | Why should she hate the man who loves her upon proof? |
9881 | Why this squeamishness then, honest Joseph? |
9881 | Why to Windsor? |
9881 | Why will she defy the power she is absolutely dependent upon? |
9881 | Why will she deny me her company, till she makes me lose my patience, and lay myself open to her resentment? |
9881 | Why will she put me upon looking back? |
9881 | Why will she still wish to my face that she had never left her father''s house? |
9881 | Why would not the dear creature accept of me, when I so sincerely offered myself to her acceptance? |
9881 | Why, Sir, do n''t I neither use ceremony enough with you? |
9881 | Why, is she not here? |
9881 | Why, says he, did I not think of it before?--And snatching my hand, Shall I write, Madam? |
9881 | Why? |
9881 | Will the man you are with part willingly with you? |
9881 | Would I choose to go to London( for a very few days only) in order to furnish myself with clothes? |
9881 | Would she not have me think I have a precious soul, as well as she? |
9881 | Would she not, do you think, my dear, be prevailed upon to have the communication made to her, in confidence? |
9881 | Would you have me visit the owners of the borrowed dresses in their own clothes? |
9881 | Would you stay to be Solmes''s wife?--Can this be your determination at last? |
9881 | Would you thus expose me?--Is this your generosity? |
9881 | Would you, Mr. Lovelace, in earnest, advise me to think of going to London? |
9881 | Yet what stead has either your prudence or your duty stood you in, with people so strangely determined? |
9881 | Yet, in my disapprobation of that, I judge by that event only: for who would have divined it would have been concluded as it did? |
9881 | You would not surely wish, said he, to fall into your brother''s hands by such a violent measure as this? |
9881 | Your advice had great weight with me just then, as well as his reasons, and the consideration of my unhappy situation: But what could I say? |
9881 | Your merits, my dear, but aggravate your fault.--Something of fresh aggravation every hour.--How can any favour be expected? |
9881 | Your poor mother-- but why should I afflict you? |
9881 | Your sufferings then, if you please, Sir? |
9881 | Yourself being judge, I suppose, Sir? |
9881 | [ draw me not thus-- How dare you, Sir? |
9881 | and her sorrow for putting herself out of his reach, that is to say, for meeting me? |
9881 | and if thou pleadest honour, ought not honour to be mutual? |
9881 | and so soon? |
9881 | and warning given of him to the wives, as well as to the daughter of his fellow- citizens? |
9881 | are you so critical then? |
9881 | does she propose to reform me for? |
9881 | for he had the devil of a wife-- Or who? |
9881 | how, that that man kept aloof, as it were, and pursued us not; nor ran back to alarm the house? |
9881 | let me only know whether you intend to leave me; or whether I have only escaped from one confinement to another? |
9881 | methinks thou askest.--Thou, Lovelace, dealest in wonders, yet aimest not at the marvellous!--How did all this come about? |
9881 | of my wishes to prevent mischief? |
9881 | said I.--Know you of any convenient lodgings there? |
9881 | that I had nothing to fear from meeting with parents who so dearly loved me.-- How could I be complaisant, my dear, to such a man as this? |
9881 | thought I,[ but I charge thee, that thou let not any of the sex know my exultation,*] Is it so soon come to this? |
9881 | what had I to do to give him hope that I would personally acquaint him with the reason for my change of mind, if I did change it? |
9881 | yet how, as long as I am situated, can I put them right? |