Soon will the fair one hear how high their foolish resentments run against her: and then will she, it is to be hoped, have a little more confidence in me. Then will I be jealous that she loves me not with the preference my heart builds upon: then will I bring her to confessions of grateful love: and then will I kiss her when I please; and not stand trembling, as now, like a hungry hound, who sees a delicious morsel within his reach, (the froth hanging upon his vermilion jaws,) yet dares not leap at it for his life.
But I was originally a bashful mortal. Indeed I am bashful still with regard to this lady—Bashful, yet know the sex so well!—But that indeed is the reason that I know it so well:—For, Jack, I have had abundant cause, when I have looked into myself, by way of comparison with the other sex, to conclude that a bashful man has a good deal of the soul of a woman; and so, like Tiresias, can tell what they think, and what they drive at, as well as themselves.
The modest ones and I, particularly, are pretty much upon a par. The difference between us is only, what they think, I act. But the immodest ones out-do the worst of us by a bar’s length, both in thinking and acting.
"and then will I kiss her when I please; and not stand trembling, as now, like a hungry hound, who sees a delicious morsel within his reach, (the froth hanging upon his vermilion jaws,) yet dares not leap at it for his life." One of the creepiest metaphors so far.
Creepy yes. But what's holding him back? I'm not sure. Is it maybe a moral sensibility? Or just fear of punishment? Or does he genuinely want Clarissa to think well of him?
He also says he's "bashful" when it comes to Clarissa, which we all know isn't true. He's probably the least bashful person in the book. I think he just doesn't want to take the chance that he might scare her enough that she'll find a way to leave–he will do whatever he can (even if it means holding himself back…what a concept!) to retain his control over her.
I find this line very interesting, too: “The modest ones and I, particularly, are pretty much upon a par. The difference between us is only, what they think, I act. But the immodest ones out-do the worst of us by a bar's length, both in thinking and acting.” Lovelace certainly thinks quite a bit himself throughout the novel (as we see in his lengthy letters), but he does have the opportunity to act more than the “modest” ones (I'm guessing he means Clarissa here?). His ability to do both, I think, is what allows the plot to move forward and works against his inclusion of himself in the in-between “modest” and “immodest” category (I found his inability to fully associate with either group interesting, too).
It's so interesting to read back to phrases we thought were creepy toward the beginning of the novel that now seem much more tame in light of the end of the novel!
Having finished the novel, it's interesting to think about Lovelace's style of writing and how it changes with his particular emotions and moods. This letter seems to be one that is very characteristic of his style of writing throughout most of the novel. He uses very intense imagery to discuss his own emotions; he likens himself to grand, historical figures, and he works in ways to discuss imaginary traits about himself (modesty, bashfulness) that make him seem better than he is.
I think I needed to get through some of his radically different letters that at the end of the novel to recognize what some of these main traits of Lovelace's are in his early writing.