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+The Project Gutenberg eBook of The Fortunes and Misfortunes of the
+Famous Moll Flanders, by Daniel Defoe
+
+This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere in the United States and
+most other parts of the world at no cost and with almost no restrictions
+whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or re-use it under the terms
+of the Project Gutenberg License included with this eBook or online at
+www.gutenberg.org. If you are not located in the United States, you
+will have to check the laws of the country where you are located before
+using this eBook.
+
+Title: The Fortunes and Misfortunes of the Famous Moll Flanders
+
+Author: Daniel Defoe
+
+Release Date: December, 1995 [eBook #370]
+[Most recently updated: February 18, 2023]
+
+Language: English
+
+
+*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK MOLL FLANDERS ***
+
+cover
+
+
+
+
+The Fortunes and Misfortunes of the Famous Moll Flanders, &c.
+
+
+Who was Born in Newgate, and during a Life of continu’d Variety for
+Threescore Years, besides her Childhood, was Twelve Year a Whore, five
+times a Wife (whereof once to her own Brother), Twelve Year a Thief,
+Eight Year a Transported Felon in Virginia, at last grew Rich, liv’d
+Honest, and dies a Penitent. Written from her own Memorandums . . .
+
+by Daniel Defoe
+
+
+
+
+THE AUTHOR’S PREFACE
+
+
+The world is so taken up of late with novels and romances, that it will
+be hard for a private history to be taken for genuine, where the names
+and other circumstances of the person are concealed, and on this
+account we must be content to leave the reader to pass his own opinion
+upon the ensuing sheet, and take it just as he pleases.
+
+The author is here supposed to be writing her own history, and in the
+very beginning of her account she gives the reasons why she thinks fit
+to conceal her true name, after which there is no occasion to say any
+more about that.
+
+It is true that the original of this story is put into new words, and
+the style of the famous lady we here speak of is a little altered;
+particularly she is made to tell her own tale in modester words that
+she told it at first, the copy which came first to hand having been
+written in language more like one still in Newgate than one grown
+penitent and humble, as she afterwards pretends to be.
+
+The pen employed in finishing her story, and making it what you now see
+it to be, has had no little difficulty to put it into a dress fit to be
+seen, and to make it speak language fit to be read. When a woman
+debauched from her youth, nay, even being the offspring of debauchery
+and vice, comes to give an account of all her vicious practices, and
+even to descend to the particular occasions and circumstances by which
+she ran through in threescore years, an author must be hard put to it
+wrap it up so clean as not to give room, especially for vicious
+readers, to turn it to his disadvantage.
+
+All possible care, however, has been taken to give no lewd ideas, no
+immodest turns in the new dressing up of this story; no, not to the
+worst parts of her expressions. To this purpose some of the vicious
+part of her life, which could not be modestly told, is quite left out,
+and several other parts are very much shortened. What is left ’tis
+hoped will not offend the chastest reader or the modest hearer; and as
+the best use is made even of the worst story, the moral ’tis hoped will
+keep the reader serious, even where the story might incline him to be
+otherwise. To give the history of a wicked life repented of,
+necessarily requires that the wicked part should be make as wicked as
+the real history of it will bear, to illustrate and give a beauty to
+the penitent part, which is certainly the best and brightest, if
+related with equal spirit and life.
+
+It is suggested there cannot be the same life, the same brightness and
+beauty, in relating the penitent part as is in the criminal part. If
+there is any truth in that suggestion, I must be allowed to say ’tis
+because there is not the same taste and relish in the reading, and
+indeed it is too true that the difference lies not in the real worth of
+the subject so much as in the gust and palate of the reader.
+
+But as this work is chiefly recommended to those who know how to read
+it, and how to make the good uses of it which the story all along
+recommends to them, so it is to be hoped that such readers will be more
+pleased with the moral than the fable, with the application than with
+the relation, and with the end of the writer than with the life of the
+person written of.
+
+There is in this story abundance of delightful incidents, and all of
+them usefully applied. There is an agreeable turn artfully given them
+in the relating, that naturally instructs the reader, either one way or
+other. The first part of her lewd life with the young gentleman at
+Colchester has so many happy turns given it to expose the crime, and
+warn all whose circumstances are adapted to it, of the ruinous end of
+such things, and the foolish, thoughtless, and abhorred conduct of both
+the parties, that it abundantly atones for all the lively description
+she gives of her folly and wickedness.
+
+The repentance of her lover at the Bath, and how brought by the just
+alarm of his fit of sickness to abandon her; the just caution given
+there against even the lawful intimacies of the dearest friends, and
+how unable they are to preserve the most solemn resolutions of virtue
+without divine assistance; these are parts which, to a just
+discernment, will appear to have more real beauty in them, than all the
+amorous chain of story which introduces it.
+
+In a word, as the whole relation is carefully garbled of all the levity
+and looseness that was in it, so it all applied, and with the utmost
+care, to virtuous and religious uses. None can, without being guilty of
+manifest injustice, cast any reproach upon it, or upon our design in
+publishing it.
+
+The advocates for the stage have, in all ages, made this the great
+argument to persuade people that their plays are useful, and that they
+ought to be allowed in the most civilised and in the most religious
+government; namely, that they are applied to virtuous purposes, and
+that by the most lively representations, they fail not to recommend
+virtue and generous principles, and to discourage and expose all sorts
+of vice and corruption of manners; and were it true that they did so,
+and that they constantly adhered to that rule, as the test of their
+acting on the theatre, much might be said in their favour.
+
+Throughout the infinite variety of this book, this fundamental is most
+strictly adhered to; there is not a wicked action in any part of it,
+but is first and last rendered unhappy and unfortunate; there is not a
+superlative villain brought upon the stage, but either he is brought to
+an unhappy end, or brought to be a penitent; there is not an ill thing
+mentioned but it is condemned, even in the relation, nor a virtuous,
+just thing but it carries its praise along with it. What can more
+exactly answer the rule laid down, to recommend even those
+representations of things which have so many other just objections
+leaving against them? namely, of example, of bad company, obscene
+language, and the like.
+
+Upon this foundation this book is recommended to the reader as a work
+from every part of which something may be learned, and some just and
+religious inference is drawn, by which the reader will have something
+of instruction, if he pleases to make use of it.
+
+All the exploits of this lady of fame, in her depredations upon
+mankind, stand as so many warnings to honest people to beware of them,
+intimating to them by what methods innocent people are drawn in,
+plundered and robbed, and by consequence how to avoid them. Her robbing
+a little innocent child, dressed fine by the vanity of the mother, to
+go to the dancing-school, is a good memento to such people hereafter,
+as is likewise her picking the gold watch from the young lady’s side in
+the Park.
+
+Her getting a parcel from a hare-brained wench at the coaches in St.
+John Street; her booty made at the fire, and again at Harwich, all give
+us excellent warnings in such cases to be more present to ourselves in
+sudden surprises of every sort.
+
+Her application to a sober life and industrious management at last in
+Virginia, with her transported spouse, is a story fruitful of
+instruction to all the unfortunate creatures who are obliged to seek
+their re-establishment abroad, whether by the misery of transportation
+or other disaster; letting them know that diligence and application
+have their due encouragement, even in the remotest parts of the world,
+and that no case can be so low, so despicable, or so empty of prospect,
+but that an unwearied industry will go a great way to deliver us from
+it, will in time raise the meanest creature to appear again in the
+world, and give him a new case for his life.
+
+There are a few of the serious inferences which we are led by the hand
+to in this book, and these are fully sufficient to justify any man in
+recommending it to the world, and much more to justify the publication
+of it.
+
+There are two of the most beautiful parts still behind, which this
+story gives some idea of, and lets us into the parts of them, but they
+are either of them too long to be brought into the same volume, and
+indeed are, as I may call them, whole volumes of themselves, viz.: 1.
+The life of her governess, as she calls her, who had run through, it
+seems, in a few years, all the eminent degrees of a gentlewoman, a
+whore, and a bawd; a midwife and a midwife-keeper, as they are called;
+a pawnbroker, a childtaker, a receiver of thieves, and of thieves’
+purchase, that is to say, of stolen goods; and in a word, herself a
+thief, a breeder up of thieves and the like, and yet at last a
+penitent.
+
+The second is the life of her transported husband, a highwayman, who it
+seems, lived a twelve years’ life of successful villainy upon the road,
+and even at last came off so well as to be a volunteer transport, not a
+convict; and in whose life there is an incredible variety.
+
+But, as I have said, these are things too long to bring in here, so
+neither can I make a promise of the coming out by themselves.
+
+We cannot say, indeed, that this history is carried on quite to the end
+of the life of this famous Moll Flanders, as she calls herself, for
+nobody can write their own life to the full end of it, unless they can
+write it after they are dead. But her husband’s life, being written by
+a third hand, gives a full account of them both, how long they lived
+together in that country, and how they both came to England again,
+after about eight years, in which time they were grown very rich, and
+where she lived, it seems, to be very old, but was not so extraordinary
+a penitent as she was at first; it seems only that indeed she always
+spoke with abhorrence of her former life, and of every part of it.
+
+In her last scene, at Maryland and Virginia, many pleasant things
+happened, which makes that part of her life very agreeable, but they
+are not told with the same elegancy as those accounted for by herself;
+so it is still to the more advantage that we break off here.
+
+
+
+
+ MOLL FLANDERS
+
+
+My true name is so well known in the records or registers at Newgate,
+and in the Old Bailey, and there are some things of such consequence
+still depending there, relating to my particular conduct, that it is
+not be expected I should set my name or the account of my family to
+this work; perhaps, after my death, it may be better known; at present
+it would not be proper, no not though a general pardon should be
+issued, even without exceptions and reserve of persons or crimes.
+
+It is enough to tell you, that as some of my worst comrades, who are
+out of the way of doing me harm (having gone out of the world by the
+steps and the string, as I often expected to go), knew me by the name
+of Moll Flanders, so you may give me leave to speak of myself under
+that name till I dare own who I have been, as well as who I am.
+
+I have been told that in one of our neighbour nations, whether it be in
+France or where else I know not, they have an order from the king, that
+when any criminal is condemned, either to die, or to the galleys, or to
+be transported, if they leave any children, as such are generally
+unprovided for, by the poverty or forfeiture of their parents, so they
+are immediately taken into the care of the Government, and put into a
+hospital called the House of Orphans, where they are bred up, clothed,
+fed, taught, and when fit to go out, are placed out to trades or to
+services, so as to be well able to provide for themselves by an honest,
+industrious behaviour.
+
+Had this been the custom in our country, I had not been left a poor
+desolate girl without friends, without clothes, without help or helper
+in the world, as was my fate; and by which I was not only exposed to
+very great distresses, even before I was capable either of
+understanding my case or how to amend it, but brought into a course of
+life which was not only scandalous in itself, but which in its ordinary
+course tended to the swift destruction both of soul and body.
+
+But the case was otherwise here. My mother was convicted of felony for
+a certain petty theft scarce worth naming, viz. having an opportunity
+of borrowing three pieces of fine holland of a certain draper in
+Cheapside. The circumstances are too long to repeat, and I have heard
+them related so many ways, that I can scarce be certain which is the
+right account.
+
+However it was, this they all agree in, that my mother pleaded her
+belly, and being found quick with child, she was respited for about
+seven months; in which time having brought me into the world, and being
+about again, she was called down, as they term it, to her former
+judgment, but obtained the favour of being transported to the
+plantations, and left me about half a year old; and in bad hands, you
+may be sure.
+
+This is too near the first hours of my life for me to relate anything
+of myself but by hearsay; it is enough to mention, that as I was born
+in such an unhappy place, I had no parish to have recourse to for my
+nourishment in my infancy; nor can I give the least account how I was
+kept alive, other than that, as I have been told, some relation of my
+mother’s took me away for a while as a nurse, but at whose expense, or
+by whose direction, I know nothing at all of it.
+
+The first account that I can recollect, or could ever learn of myself,
+was that I had wandered among a crew of those people they call gypsies,
+or Egyptians; but I believe it was but a very little while that I had
+been among them, for I had not had my skin discoloured or blackened, as
+they do very young to all the children they carry about with them; nor
+can I tell how I came among them, or how I got from them.
+
+It was at Colchester, in Essex, that those people left me; and I have a
+notion in my head that I left them there (that is, that I hid myself
+and would not go any farther with them), but I am not able to be
+particular in that account; only this I remember, that being taken up
+by some of the parish officers of Colchester, I gave an account that I
+came into the town with the gypsies, but that I would not go any
+farther with them, and that so they had left me, but whither they were
+gone that I knew not, nor could they expect it of me; for though they
+send round the country to inquire after them, it seems they could not
+be found.
+
+I was now in a way to be provided for; for though I was not a parish
+charge upon this or that part of the town by law, yet as my case came
+to be known, and that I was too young to do any work, being not above
+three years old, compassion moved the magistrates of the town to order
+some care to be taken of me, and I became one of their own as much as
+if I had been born in the place.
+
+In the provision they made for me, it was my good hap to be put to
+nurse, as they call it, to a woman who was indeed poor but had been in
+better circumstances, and who got a little livelihood by taking such as
+I was supposed to be, and keeping them with all necessaries, till they
+were at a certain age, in which it might be supposed they might go to
+service or get their own bread.
+
+This woman had also had a little school, which she kept to teach
+children to read and to work; and having, as I have said, lived before
+that in good fashion, she bred up the children she took with a great
+deal of art, as well as with a great deal of care.
+
+But that which was worth all the rest, she bred them up very
+religiously, being herself a very sober, pious woman, very house-wifely
+and clean, and very mannerly, and with good behaviour. So that in a
+word, expecting a plain diet, coarse lodging, and mean clothes, we were
+brought up as mannerly and as genteelly as if we had been at the
+dancing-school.
+
+I was continued here till I was eight years old, when I was terrified
+with news that the magistrates (as I think they called them) had
+ordered that I should go to service. I was able to do but very little
+service wherever I was to go, except it was to run of errands and be a
+drudge to some cookmaid, and this they told me of often, which put me
+into a great fright; for I had a thorough aversion to going to service,
+as they called it (that is, to be a servant), though I was so young;
+and I told my nurse, as we called her, that I believed I could get my
+living without going to service, if she pleased to let me; for she had
+taught me to work with my needle, and spin worsted, which is the chief
+trade of that city, and I told her that if she would keep me, I would
+work for her, and I would work very hard.
+
+I talked to her almost every day of working hard; and, in short, I did
+nothing but work and cry all day, which grieved the good, kind woman so
+much, that at last she began to be concerned for me, for she loved me
+very well.
+
+One day after this, as she came into the room where all we poor
+children were at work, she sat down just over against me, not in her
+usual place as mistress, but as if she set herself on purpose to
+observe me and see me work. I was doing something she had set me to; as
+I remember, it was marking some shirts which she had taken to make, and
+after a while she began to talk to me. “Thou foolish child,” says she,
+“thou art always crying” (for I was crying then); “prithee, what dost
+cry for?” “Because they will take me away,” says I, “and put me to
+service, and I can’t work housework.” “Well, child,” says she, “but
+though you can’t work housework, as you call it, you will learn it in
+time, and they won’t put you to hard things at first.” “Yes, they
+will,” says I, “and if I can’t do it they will beat me, and the maids
+will beat me to make me do great work, and I am but a little girl and I
+can’t do it”; and then I cried again, till I could not speak any more
+to her.
+
+This moved my good motherly nurse, so that she from that time resolved
+I should not go to service yet; so she bid me not cry, and she would
+speak to Mr. Mayor, and I should not go to service till I was bigger.
+
+Well, this did not satisfy me, for to think of going to service was
+such a frightful thing to me, that if she had assured me I should not
+have gone till I was twenty years old, it would have been the same to
+me; I should have cried, I believe, all the time, with the very
+apprehension of its being to be so at last.
+
+When she saw that I was not pacified yet, she began to be angry with
+me. “And what would you have?” says she; “don’t I tell you that you
+shall not go to service till your are bigger?” “Ay,” said I, “but then
+I must go at last.” “Why, what?” said she; “is the girl mad? What would
+you be—a gentlewoman?” “Yes,” says I, and cried heartily till I roared
+out again.
+
+This set the old gentlewoman a-laughing at me, as you may be sure it
+would. “Well, madam, forsooth,” says she, gibing at me, “you would be a
+gentlewoman; and pray how will you come to be a gentlewoman? What! will
+you do it by your fingers’ end?”
+
+“Yes,” says I again, very innocently.
+
+“Why, what can you earn?” says she; “what can you get at your work?”
+
+“Threepence,” said I, “when I spin, and fourpence when I work plain
+work.”
+
+“Alas! poor gentlewoman,” said she again, laughing, “what will that do
+for thee?”
+
+“It will keep me,” says I, “if you will let me live with you.” And this
+I said in such a poor petitioning tone, that it made the poor woman’s
+heart yearn to me, as she told me afterwards.
+
+“But,” says she, “that will not keep you and buy you clothes too; and
+who must buy the little gentlewoman clothes?” says she, and smiled all
+the while at me.
+
+“I will work harder, then,” says I, “and you shall have it all.”
+
+“Poor child! it won’t keep you,” says she; “it will hardly keep you in
+victuals.”
+
+“Then I will have no victuals,” says I, again very innocently; “let me
+but live with you.”
+
+“Why, can you live without victuals?” says she.
+
+“Yes,” again says I, very much like a child, you may be sure, and still
+I cried heartily.
+
+I had no policy in all this; you may easily see it was all nature; but
+it was joined with so much innocence and so much passion that, in
+short, it set the good motherly creature a-weeping too, and she cried
+at last as fast as I did, and then took me and led me out of the
+teaching-room. “Come,” says she, “you shan’t go to service; you shall
+live with me”; and this pacified me for the present.
+
+Some time after this, she going to wait on the Mayor, and talking of
+such things as belonged to her business, at last my story came up, and
+my good nurse told Mr. Mayor the whole tale. He was so pleased with it,
+that he would call his lady and his two daughters to hear it, and it
+made mirth enough among them, you may be sure.
+
+However, not a week had passed over, but on a sudden comes Mrs.
+Mayoress and her two daughters to the house to see my old nurse, and to
+see her school and the children. When they had looked about them a
+little, “Well, Mrs. ——,” says the Mayoress to my nurse, “and pray which
+is the little lass that intends to be a gentlewoman?” I heard her, and
+I was terribly frighted at first, though I did not know why neither;
+but Mrs. Mayoress comes up to me. “Well, miss,” says she, “and what are
+you at work upon?” The word miss was a language that had hardly been
+heard of in our school, and I wondered what sad name it was she called
+me. However, I stood up, made a curtsy, and she took my work out of my
+hand, looked on it, and said it was very well; then she took up one of
+the hands. “Nay,” says she, “the child may come to be a gentlewoman for
+aught anybody knows; she has a gentlewoman’s hand,” says she. This
+pleased me mightily, you may be sure; but Mrs. Mayoress did not stop
+there, but giving me my work again, she put her hand in her pocket,
+gave me a shilling, and bid me mind my work, and learn to work well,
+and I might be a gentlewoman for aught she knew.
+
+Now all this while my good old nurse, Mrs. Mayoress, and all the rest
+of them did not understand me at all, for they meant one sort of thing
+by the word gentlewoman, and I meant quite another; for alas! all I
+understood by being a gentlewoman was to be able to work for myself,
+and get enough to keep me without that terrible bugbear going to
+service, whereas they meant to live great, rich and high, and I know
+not what.
+
+Well, after Mrs. Mayoress was gone, her two daughters came in, and they
+called for the gentlewoman too, and they talked a long while to me, and
+I answered them in my innocent way; but always, if they asked me
+whether I resolved to be a gentlewoman, I answered Yes. At last one of
+them asked me what a gentlewoman was? That puzzled me much; but,
+however, I explained myself negatively, that it was one that did not go
+to service, to do housework. They were pleased to be familiar with me,
+and like my little prattle to them, which, it seems, was agreeable
+enough to them, and they gave me money too.
+
+As for my money, I gave it all to my mistress-nurse, as I called her,
+and told her she should have all I got for myself when I was a
+gentlewoman, as well as now. By this and some other of my talk, my old
+tutoress began to understand me about what I meant by being a
+gentlewoman, and that I understood by it no more than to be able to get
+my bread by my own work; and at last she asked me whether it was not
+so.
+
+I told her, yes, and insisted on it, that to do so was to be a
+gentlewoman; “for,” says I, “there is such a one,” naming a woman that
+mended lace and washed the ladies’ laced-heads; “she,” says I, “is a
+gentlewoman, and they call her madam.”
+
+“Poor child,” says my good old nurse, “you may soon be such a
+gentlewoman as that, for she is a person of ill fame, and has had two
+or three bastards.”
+
+I did not understand anything of that; but I answered, “I am sure they
+call her madam, and she does not go to service nor do housework”; and
+therefore I insisted that she was a gentlewoman, and I would be such a
+gentlewoman as that.
+
+The ladies were told all this again, to be sure, and they made
+themselves merry with it, and every now and then the young ladies, Mr.
+Mayor’s daughters, would come and see me, and ask where the little
+gentlewoman was, which made me not a little proud of myself.
+
+This held a great while, and I was often visited by these young ladies,
+and sometimes they brought others with them; so that I was known by it
+almost all over the town.
+
+I was now about ten years old, and began to look a little womanish, for
+I was mighty grave and humble, very mannerly, and as I had often heard
+the ladies say I was pretty, and would be a very handsome woman, so you
+may be sure that hearing them say so made me not a little proud.
+However, that pride had no ill effect upon me yet; only, as they often
+gave me money, and I gave it to my old nurse, she, honest woman, was so
+just to me as to lay it all out again for me, and gave me head-dresses,
+and linen, and gloves, and ribbons, and I went very neat, and always
+clean; for that I would do, and if I had rags on, I would always be
+clean, or else I would dabble them in water myself; but, I say, my good
+nurse, when I had money given me, very honestly laid it out for me, and
+would always tell the ladies this or that was bought with their money;
+and this made them oftentimes give me more, till at last I was indeed
+called upon by the magistrates, as I understood it, to go out to
+service; but then I was come to be so good a workwoman myself, and the
+ladies were so kind to me, that it was plain I could maintain
+myself—that is to say, I could earn as much for my nurse as she was
+able by it to keep me—so she told them that if they would give her
+leave, she would keep the gentlewoman, as she called me, to be her
+assistant and teach the children, which I was very well able to do; for
+I was very nimble at my work, and had a good hand with my needle,
+though I was yet very young.
+
+But the kindness of the ladies of the town did not end here, for when
+they came to understand that I was no more maintained by the public
+allowance as before, they gave me money oftener than formerly; and as I
+grew up they brought me work to do for them, such as linen to make, and
+laces to mend, and heads to dress up, and not only paid me for doing
+them, but even taught me how to do them; so that now I was a
+gentlewoman indeed, as I understood that word, I not only found myself
+clothes and paid my nurse for my keeping, but got money in my pocket
+too beforehand.
+
+The ladies also gave me clothes frequently of their own or their
+children’s; some stockings, some petticoats, some gowns, some one
+thing, some another, and these my old woman managed for me like a mere
+mother, and kept them for me, obliged me to mend them, and turn them
+and twist them to the best advantage, for she was a rare housewife.
+
+At last one of the ladies took so much fancy to me that she would have
+me home to her house, for a month, she said, to be among her daughters.
+
+Now, though this was exceeding kind in her, yet, as my old good woman
+said to her, unless she resolved to keep me for good and all, she would
+do the little gentlewoman more harm than good. “Well,” says the lady,
+“that’s true; and therefore I’ll only take her home for a week, then,
+that I may see how my daughters and she agree together, and how I like
+her temper, and then I’ll tell you more; and in the meantime, if
+anybody comes to see her as they used to do, you may only tell them you
+have sent her out to my house.”
+
+This was prudently managed enough, and I went to the lady’s house; but
+I was so pleased there with the young ladies, and they so pleased with
+me, that I had enough to do to come away, and they were as unwilling to
+part with me.
+
+However, I did come away, and lived almost a year more with my honest
+old woman, and began now to be very helpful to her; for I was almost
+fourteen years old, was tall of my age, and looked a little womanish;
+but I had such a taste of genteel living at the lady’s house that I was
+not so easy in my old quarters as I used to be, and I thought it was
+fine to be a gentlewoman indeed, for I had quite other notions of a
+gentlewoman now than I had before; and as I thought, I say, that it was
+fine to be a gentlewoman, so I loved to be among gentlewomen, and
+therefore I longed to be there again.
+
+About the time that I was fourteen years and a quarter old, my good
+nurse, mother I rather to call her, fell sick and died. I was then in a
+sad condition indeed, for as there is no great bustle in putting an end
+to a poor body’s family when once they are carried to the grave, so the
+poor good woman being buried, the parish children she kept were
+immediately removed by the church-wardens; the school was at an end,
+and the children of it had no more to do but just stay at home till
+they were sent somewhere else; and as for what she left, her daughter,
+a married woman with six or seven children, came and swept it all away
+at once, and removing the goods, they had no more to say to me than to
+jest with me, and tell me that the little gentlewoman might set up for
+herself if she pleased.
+
+I was frighted out of my wits almost, and knew not what to do, for I
+was, as it were, turned out of doors to the wide world, and that which
+was still worse, the old honest woman had two-and-twenty shillings of
+mine in her hand, which was all the estate the little gentlewoman had
+in the world; and when I asked the daughter for it, she huffed me and
+laughed at me, and told me she had nothing to do with it.
+
+It was true the good, poor woman had told her daughter of it, and that
+it lay in such a place, that it was the child’s money, and had called
+once or twice for me to give it me, but I was, unhappily, out of the
+way somewhere or other, and when I came back she was past being in a
+condition to speak of it. However, the daughter was so honest
+afterwards as to give it me, though at first she used me cruelly about
+it.
+
+Now was I a poor gentlewoman indeed, and I was just that very night to
+be turned into the wide world; for the daughter removed all the goods,
+and I had not so much as a lodging to go to, or a bit of bread to eat.
+But it seems some of the neighbours, who had known my circumstances,
+took so much compassion of me as to acquaint the lady in whose family I
+had been a week, as I mentioned above; and immediately she sent her
+maid to fetch me away, and two of her daughters came with the maid
+though unsent. So I went with them, bag and baggage, and with a glad
+heart, you may be sure. The fright of my condition had made such an
+impression upon me, that I did not want now to be a gentlewoman, but
+was very willing to be a servant, and that any kind of servant they
+thought fit to have me be.
+
+But my new generous mistress, for she exceeded the good woman I was
+with before, in everything, as well as in the matter of estate; I say,
+in everything except honesty; and for that, though this was a lady most
+exactly just, yet I must not forget to say on all occasions, that the
+first, though poor, was as uprightly honest as it was possible for any
+one to be.
+
+I was no sooner carried away, as I have said, by this good gentlewoman,
+but the first lady, that is to say, the Mayoress that was, sent her two
+daughters to take care of me; and another family which had taken notice
+of me when I was the little gentlewoman, and had given me work to do,
+sent for me after her, so that I was mightily made of, as we say; nay,
+and they were not a little angry, especially madam the Mayoress, that
+her friend had taken me away from her, as she called it; for, as she
+said, I was hers by right, she having been the first that took any
+notice of me. But they that had me would not part with me; and as for
+me, though I should have been very well treated with any of the others,
+yet I could not be better than where I was.
+
+Here I continued till I was between seventeen and eighteen years old,
+and here I had all the advantages for my education that could be
+imagined; the lady had masters home to the house to teach her daughters
+to dance, and to speak French, and to write, and other to teach them
+music; and I was always with them, I learned as fast as they; and
+though the masters were not appointed to teach me, yet I learned by
+imitation and inquiry all that they learned by instruction and
+direction; so that, in short, I learned to dance and speak French as
+well as any of them, and to sing much better, for I had a better voice
+than any of them. I could not so readily come at playing on the
+harpsichord or spinet, because I had no instrument of my own to
+practice on, and could only come at theirs in the intervals when they
+left it, which was uncertain; but yet I learned tolerably well too, and
+the young ladies at length got two instruments, that is to say, a
+harpsichord and a spinet too, and then they taught me themselves. But
+as to dancing, they could hardly help my learning country-dances,
+because they always wanted me to make up even number; and, on the other
+hand, they were as heartily willing to learn me everything that they
+had been taught themselves, as I could be to take the learning.
+
+By this means I had, as I have said above, all the advantages of
+education that I could have had if I had been as much a gentlewoman as
+they were with whom I lived; and in some things I had the advantage of
+my ladies, though they were my superiors; but they were all the gifts
+of nature, and which all their fortunes could not furnish. First, I was
+apparently handsomer than any of them; secondly, I was better shaped;
+and, thirdly, I sang better, by which I mean I had a better voice; in
+all which you will, I hope, allow me to say, I do not speak my own
+conceit of myself, but the opinion of all that knew the family.
+
+I had with all these the common vanity of my sex, viz. that being
+really taken for very handsome, or, if you please, for a great beauty,
+I very well knew it, and had as good an opinion of myself as anybody
+else could have of me; and particularly I loved to hear anybody speak
+of it, which could not but happen to me sometimes, and was a great
+satisfaction to me.
+
+Thus far I have had a smooth story to tell of myself, and in all this
+part of my life I not only had the reputation of living in a very good
+family, and a family noted and respected everywhere for virtue and
+sobriety, and for every valuable thing; but I had the character too of
+a very sober, modest, and virtuous young woman, and such I had always
+been; neither had I yet any occasion to think of anything else, or to
+know what a temptation to wickedness meant.
+
+But that which I was too vain of was my ruin, or rather my vanity was
+the cause of it. The lady in the house where I was had two sons, young
+gentlemen of very promising parts and of extraordinary behaviour, and
+it was my misfortune to be very well with them both, but they managed
+themselves with me in a quite different manner.
+
+The eldest, a gay gentleman that knew the town as well as the country,
+and though he had levity enough to do an ill-natured thing, yet had too
+much judgment of things to pay too dear for his pleasures; he began
+with the unhappy snare to all women, viz. taking notice upon all
+occasions how pretty I was, as he called it, how agreeable, how
+well-carriaged, and the like; and this he contrived so subtly, as if he
+had known as well how to catch a woman in his net as a partridge when
+he went a-setting; for he would contrive to be talking this to his
+sisters when, though I was not by, yet when he knew I was not far off
+but that I should be sure to hear him. His sisters would return softly
+to him, “Hush, brother, she will hear you; she is but in the next
+room.” Then he would put it off and talk softlier, as if he had not
+known it, and begin to acknowledge he was wrong; and then, as if he had
+forgot himself, he would speak aloud again, and I, that was so well
+pleased to hear it, was sure to listen for it upon all occasions.
+
+After he had thus baited his hook, and found easily enough the method
+how to lay it in my way, he played an opener game; and one day, going
+by his sister’s chamber when I was there, doing something about
+dressing her, he comes in with an air of gaiety. “Oh, Mrs. Betty,” said
+he to me, “how do you do, Mrs. Betty? Don’t your cheeks burn, Mrs.
+Betty?” I made a curtsy and blushed, but said nothing. “What makes you
+talk so, brother?” says the lady. “Why,” says he, “we have been talking
+of her below-stairs this half-hour.” “Well,” says his sister, “you can
+say no harm of her, that I am sure, so ’tis no matter what you have
+been talking about.” “Nay,” says he, “’tis so far from talking harm of
+her, that we have been talking a great deal of good, and a great many
+fine things have been said of Mrs. Betty, I assure you; and
+particularly, that she is the handsomest young woman in Colchester;
+and, in short, they begin to toast her health in the town.”
+
+“I wonder at you, brother,” says the sister. “Betty wants but one
+thing, but she had as good want everything, for the market is against
+our sex just now; and if a young woman have beauty, birth, breeding,
+wit, sense, manners, modesty, and all these to an extreme, yet if she
+have not money, she’s nobody, she had as good want them all for nothing
+but money now recommends a woman; the men play the game all into their
+own hands.”
+
+Her younger brother, who was by, cried, “Hold, sister, you run too
+fast; I am an exception to your rule. I assure you, if I find a woman
+so accomplished as you talk of, I say, I assure you, I would not
+trouble myself about the money.”
+
+“Oh,” says the sister, “but you will take care not to fancy one, then,
+without the money.”
+
+“You don’t know that neither,” says the brother.
+
+“But why, sister,” says the elder brother, “why do you exclaim so at
+the men for aiming so much at the fortune? You are none of them that
+want a fortune, whatever else you want.”
+
+“I understand you, brother,” replies the lady very smartly; “you
+suppose I have the money, and want the beauty; but as times go now, the
+first will do without the last, so I have the better of my neighbours.”
+
+“Well,” says the younger brother, “but your neighbours, as you call
+them, may be even with you, for beauty will steal a husband sometimes
+in spite of money, and when the maid chances to be handsomer than the
+mistress, she oftentimes makes as good a market, and rides in a coach
+before her.”
+
+I thought it was time for me to withdraw and leave them, and I did so,
+but not so far but that I heard all their discourse, in which I heard
+abundance of the fine things said of myself, which served to prompt my
+vanity, but, as I soon found, was not the way to increase my interest
+in the family, for the sister and the younger brother fell grievously
+out about it; and as he said some very disobliging things to her upon
+my account, so I could easily see that she resented them by her future
+conduct to me, which indeed was very unjust to me, for I had never had
+the least thought of what she suspected as to her younger brother;
+indeed, the elder brother, in his distant, remote way, had said a great
+many things as in jest, which I had the folly to believe were in
+earnest, or to flatter myself with the hopes of what I ought to have
+supposed he never intended, and perhaps never thought of.
+
+It happened one day that he came running upstairs, towards the room
+where his sisters used to sit and work, as he often used to do; and
+calling to them before he came in, as was his way too, I, being there
+alone, stepped to the door, and said, “Sir, the ladies are not here,
+they are walked down the garden.” As I stepped forward to say this,
+towards the door, he was just got to the door, and clasping me in his
+arms, as if it had been by chance, “Oh, Mrs. Betty,” says he, “are you
+here? That’s better still; I want to speak with you more than I do with
+them”; and then, having me in his arms, he kissed me three or four
+times.
+
+I struggled to get away, and yet did it but faintly neither, and he
+held me fast, and still kissed me, till he was almost out of breath,
+and then, sitting down, says, “Dear Betty, I am in love with you.”
+
+His words, I must confess, fired my blood; all my spirits flew about my
+heart and put me into disorder enough, which he might easily have seen
+in my face. He repeated it afterwards several times, that he was in
+love with me, and my heart spoke as plain as a voice, that I liked it;
+nay, whenever he said, “I am in love with you,” my blushes plainly
+replied, “Would you were, sir.”
+
+However, nothing else passed at that time; it was but a surprise, and
+when he was gone I soon recovered myself again. He had stayed longer
+with me, but he happened to look out at the window and see his sisters
+coming up the garden, so he took his leave, kissed me again, told me he
+was very serious, and I should hear more of him very quickly, and away
+he went, leaving me infinitely pleased, though surprised; and had there
+not been one misfortune in it, I had been in the right, but the mistake
+lay here, that Mrs. Betty was in earnest and the gentleman was not.
+
+From this time my head ran upon strange things, and I may truly say I
+was not myself; to have such a gentleman talk to me of being in love
+with me, and of my being such a charming creature, as he told me I was;
+these were things I knew not how to bear, my vanity was elevated to the
+last degree. It is true I had my head full of pride, but, knowing
+nothing of the wickedness of the times, I had not one thought of my own
+safety or of my virtue about me; and had my young master offered it at
+first sight, he might have taken any liberty he thought fit with me;
+but he did not see his advantage, which was my happiness for that time.
+
+After this attack it was not long but he found an opportunity to catch
+me again, and almost in the same posture; indeed, it had more of design
+in it on his part, though not on my part. It was thus: the young ladies
+were all gone a-visiting with their mother; his brother was out of
+town; and as for his father, he had been in London for a week before.
+He had so well watched me that he knew where I was, though I did not so
+much as know that he was in the house; and he briskly comes up the
+stairs and, seeing me at work, comes into the room to me directly, and
+began just as he did before, with taking me in his arms, and kissing me
+for almost a quarter of an hour together.
+
+It was his younger sister’s chamber that I was in, and as there was
+nobody in the house but the maids below-stairs, he was, it may be, the
+ruder; in short, he began to be in earnest with me indeed. Perhaps he
+found me a little too easy, for God knows I made no resistance to him
+while he only held me in his arms and kissed me; indeed, I was too well
+pleased with it to resist him much.
+
+However, as it were, tired with that kind of work, we sat down, and
+there he talked with me a great while; he said he was charmed with me,
+and that he could not rest night or day till he had told me how he was
+in love with me, and, if I was able to love him again, and would make
+him happy, I should be the saving of his life, and many such fine
+things. I said little to him again, but easily discovered that I was a
+fool, and that I did not in the least perceive what he meant.
+
+Then he walked about the room, and taking me by the hand, I walked with
+him; and by and by, taking his advantage, he threw me down upon the
+bed, and kissed me there most violently; but, to give him his due,
+offered no manner of rudeness to me, only kissed a great while. After
+this he thought he had heard somebody come upstairs, so got off from
+the bed, lifted me up, professing a great deal of love for me, but told
+me it was all an honest affection, and that he meant no ill to me; and
+with that he put five guineas into my hand, and went away downstairs.
+
+I was more confounded with the money than I was before with the love,
+and began to be so elevated that I scarce knew the ground I stood on. I
+am the more particular in this part, that if my story comes to be read
+by any innocent young body, they may learn from it to guard themselves
+against the mischiefs which attend an early knowledge of their own
+beauty. If a young woman once thinks herself handsome, she never doubts
+the truth of any man that tells her he is in love with her; for if she
+believes herself charming enough to captivate him, ’tis natural to
+expect the effects of it.
+
+This young gentleman had fired his inclination as much as he had my
+vanity, and, as if he had found that he had an opportunity and was
+sorry he did not take hold of it, he comes up again in half an hour or
+thereabouts, and falls to work with me again as before, only with a
+little less introduction.
+
+And first, when he entered the room, he turned about and shut the door.
+“Mrs. Betty,” said he, “I fancied before somebody was coming upstairs,
+but it was not so; however,” adds he, “if they find me in the room with
+you, they shan’t catch me a-kissing of you.” I told him I did not know
+who should be coming upstairs, for I believed there was nobody in the
+house but the cook and the other maid, and they never came up those
+stairs. “Well, my dear,” says he, “’tis good to be sure, however”; and
+so he sits down, and we began to talk. And now, though I was still all
+on fire with his first visit, and said little, he did as it were put
+words in my mouth, telling me how passionately he loved me, and that
+though he could not mention such a thing till he came to this estate,
+yet he was resolved to make me happy then, and himself too; that is to
+say, to marry me, and abundance of such fine things, which I, poor
+fool, did not understand the drift of, but acted as if there was no
+such thing as any kind of love but that which tended to matrimony; and
+if he had spoke of that, I had no room, as well as no power, to have
+said no; but we were not come that length yet.
+
+We had not sat long, but he got up, and, stopping my very breath with
+kisses, threw me upon the bed again; but then being both well warmed,
+he went farther with me than decency permits me to mention, nor had it
+been in my power to have denied him at that moment, had he offered much
+more than he did.
+
+However, though he took these freedoms with me, it did not go to that
+which they call the last favour, which, to do him justice, he did not
+attempt; and he made that self-denial of his a plea for all his
+freedoms with me upon other occasions after this. When this was over,
+he stayed but a little while, but he put almost a handful of gold in my
+hand, and left me, making a thousand protestations of his passion for
+me, and of his loving me above all the women in the world.
+
+It will not be strange if I now began to think, but alas! it was but
+with very little solid reflection. I had a most unbounded stock of
+vanity and pride, and but a very little stock of virtue. I did indeed
+case sometimes with myself what young master aimed at, but thought of
+nothing but the fine words and the gold; whether he intended to marry
+me, or not to marry me, seemed a matter of no great consequence to me;
+nor did my thoughts so much as suggest to me the necessity of making
+any capitulation for myself, till he came to make a kind of formal
+proposal to me, as you shall hear presently.
+
+Thus I gave up myself to a readiness of being ruined without the least
+concern and am a fair memento to all young women whose vanity prevails
+over their virtue. Nothing was ever so stupid on both sides. Had I
+acted as became me, and resisted as virtue and honour require, this
+gentleman had either desisted his attacks, finding no room to expect
+the accomplishment of his design, or had made fair and honourable
+proposals of marriage; in which case, whoever had blamed him, nobody
+could have blamed me. In short, if he had known me, and how easy the
+trifle he aimed at was to be had, he would have troubled his head no
+farther, but have given me four or five guineas, and have lain with me
+the next time he had come at me. And if I had known his thoughts, and
+how hard he thought I would be to be gained, I might have made my own
+terms with him; and if I had not capitulated for an immediate marriage,
+I might for a maintenance till marriage, and might have had what I
+would; for he was already rich to excess, besides what he had in
+expectation; but I seemed wholly to have abandoned all such thoughts as
+these, and was taken up only with the pride of my beauty, and of being
+beloved by such a gentleman. As for the gold, I spent whole hours in
+looking upon it; I told the guineas over and over a thousand times a
+day. Never a poor vain creature was so wrapt up with every part of the
+story as I was, not considering what was before me, and how near my
+ruin was at the door; indeed, I think I rather wished for that ruin
+than studied to avoid it.
+
+In the meantime, however, I was cunning enough not to give the least
+room to any in the family to suspect me, or to imagine that I had the
+least correspondence with this young gentleman. I scarce ever looked
+towards him in public, or answered if he spoke to me when anybody was
+near us; but for all that, we had every now and then a little
+encounter, where we had room for a word or two, and now and then a
+kiss, but no fair opportunity for the mischief intended; and especially
+considering that he made more circumlocution than, if he had known my
+thoughts, he had occasion for; and the work appearing difficult to him,
+he really made it so.
+
+But as the devil is an unwearied tempter, so he never fails to find
+opportunity for that wickedness he invites to. It was one evening that
+I was in the garden, with his two younger sisters and himself, and all
+very innocently merry, when he found means to convey a note into my
+hand, by which he directed me to understand that he would to-morrow
+desire me publicly to go of an errand for him into the town, and that I
+should see him somewhere by the way.
+
+Accordingly, after dinner, he very gravely says to me, his sisters
+being all by, “Mrs. Betty, I must ask a favour of you.” “What’s that?”
+says his second sister. “Nay, sister,” says he very gravely, “if you
+can’t spare Mrs. Betty to-day, any other time will do.” Yes, they said,
+they could spare her well enough, and the sister begged pardon for
+asking, which they did but of mere course, without any meaning. “Well,
+but, brother,” says the eldest sister, “you must tell Mrs. Betty what
+it is; if it be any private business that we must not hear, you may
+call her out. There she is.” “Why, sister,” says the gentleman very
+gravely, “what do you mean? I only desire her to go into the High
+Street” (and then he pulls out a turnover), “to such a shop”; and then
+he tells them a long story of two fine neckcloths he had bid money for,
+and he wanted to have me go and make an errand to buy a neck to the
+turnover that he showed, to see if they would take my money for the
+neckcloths; to bid a shilling more, and haggle with them; and then he
+made more errands, and so continued to have such petty business to do,
+that I should be sure to stay a good while.
+
+When he had given me my errands, he told them a long story of a visit
+he was going to make to a family they all knew, and where was to be
+such-and-such gentlemen, and how merry they were to be, and very
+formally asks his sisters to go with him, and they as formally excused
+themselves, because of company that they had notice was to come and
+visit them that afternoon; which, by the way, he had contrived on
+purpose.
+
+He had scarce done speaking to them, and giving me my errand, but his
+man came up to tell him that Sir W—— H——’s coach stopped at the door;
+so he runs down, and comes up again immediately. “Alas!” says he aloud,
+“there’s all my mirth spoiled at once; sir W—— has sent his coach for
+me, and desires to speak with me upon some earnest business.” It seems
+this Sir W—— was a gentleman who lived about three miles out of town,
+to whom he had spoken on purpose the day before, to lend him his
+chariot for a particular occasion, and had appointed it to call for
+him, as it did, about three o’clock.
+
+Immediately he calls for his best wig, hat, and sword, and ordering his
+man to go to the other place to make his excuse— that was to say, he
+made an excuse to send his man away—he prepares to go into the coach.
+As he was going, he stopped a while, and speaks mighty earnestly to me
+about his business, and finds an opportunity to say very softly to me,
+“Come away, my dear, as soon as ever you can.” I said nothing, but made
+a curtsy, as if I had done so to what he said in public. In about a
+quarter of an hour I went out too; I had no dress other than before,
+except that I had a hood, a mask, a fan, and a pair of gloves in my
+pocket; so that there was not the least suspicion in the house. He
+waited for me in the coach in a back-lane, which he knew I must pass
+by, and had directed the coachman whither to go, which was to a certain
+place, called Mile End, where lived a confidant of his, where we went
+in, and where was all the convenience in the world to be as wicked as
+we pleased.
+
+When we were together he began to talk very gravely to me, and to tell
+me he did not bring me there to betray me; that his passion for me
+would not suffer him to abuse me; that he resolved to marry me as soon
+as he came to his estate; that in the meantime, if I would grant his
+request, he would maintain me very honourably; and made me a thousand
+protestations of his sincerity and of his affection to me; and that he
+would never abandon me, and as I may say, made a thousand more
+preambles than he need to have done.
+
+However, as he pressed me to speak, I told him I had no reason to
+question the sincerity of his love to me after so many protestations,
+but—and there I stopped, as if I left him to guess the rest. “But what,
+my dear?” says he. “I guess what you mean: what if you should be with
+child? Is not that it? Why, then,” says he, “I’ll take care of you and
+provide for you, and the child too; and that you may see I am not in
+jest,” says he, “here’s an earnest for you,” and with that he pulls out
+a silk purse, with an hundred guineas in it, and gave it me. “And I’ll
+give you such another,” says he, “every year till I marry you.”
+
+My colour came and went, at the sight of the purse and with the fire of
+his proposal together, so that I could not say a word, and he easily
+perceived it; so putting the purse into my bosom, I made no more
+resistance to him, but let him do just what he pleased, and as often as
+he pleased; and thus I finished my own destruction at once, for from
+this day, being forsaken of my virtue and my modesty, I had nothing of
+value left to recommend me, either to God’s blessing or man’s
+assistance.
+
+But things did not end here. I went back to the town, did the business
+he publicly directed me to, and was at home before anybody thought me
+long. As for my gentleman, he stayed out, as he told me he would, till
+late at night, and there was not the least suspicion in the family
+either on his account or on mine.
+
+We had, after this, frequent opportunities to repeat our crime—chiefly
+by his contrivance—especially at home, when his mother and the young
+ladies went abroad a-visiting, which he watched so narrowly as never to
+miss; knowing always beforehand when they went out, and then failed not
+to catch me all alone, and securely enough; so that we took our fill of
+our wicked pleasure for near half a year; and yet, which was the most
+to my satisfaction, I was not with child.
+
+But before this half-year was expired, his younger brother, of whom I
+have made some mention in the beginning of the story, falls to work
+with me; and he, finding me alone in the garden one evening, begins a
+story of the same kind to me, made good honest professions of being in
+love with me, and in short, proposes fairly and honourably to marry me,
+and that before he made any other offer to me at all.
+
+I was now confounded, and driven to such an extremity as the like was
+never known; at least not to me. I resisted the proposal with
+obstinacy; and now I began to arm myself with arguments. I laid before
+him the inequality of the match; the treatment I should meet with in
+the family; the ingratitude it would be to his good father and mother,
+who had taken me into their house upon such generous principles, and
+when I was in such a low condition; and, in short, I said everything to
+dissuade him from his design that I could imagine, except telling him
+the truth, which would indeed have put an end to it all, but that I
+durst not think of mentioning.
+
+But here happened a circumstance that I did not expect indeed, which
+put me to my shifts; for this young gentleman, as he was plain and
+honest, so he pretended to nothing with me but what was so too; and,
+knowing his own innocence, he was not so careful to make his having a
+kindness for Mrs. Betty a secret in the house, as his brother was. And
+though he did not let them know that he had talked to me about it, yet
+he said enough to let his sisters perceive he loved me, and his mother
+saw it too, which, though they took no notice of it to me, yet they did
+to him, an immediately I found their carriage to me altered, more than
+ever before.
+
+I saw the cloud, though I did not foresee the storm. It was easy, I
+say, to see that their carriage to me was altered, and that it grew
+worse and worse every day; till at last I got information among the
+servants that I should, in a very little while, be desired to remove.
+
+I was not alarmed at the news, having a full satisfaction that I should
+be otherwise provided for; and especially considering that I had reason
+every day to expect I should be with child, and that then I should be
+obliged to remove without any pretences for it.
+
+After some time the younger gentleman took an opportunity to tell me
+that the kindness he had for me had got vent in the family. He did not
+charge me with it, he said, for he know well enough which way it came
+out. He told me his plain way of talking had been the occasion of it,
+for that he did not make his respect for me so much a secret as he
+might have done, and the reason was, that he was at a point, that if I
+would consent to have him, he would tell them all openly that he loved
+me, and that he intended to marry me; that it was true his father and
+mother might resent it, and be unkind, but that he was now in a way to
+live, being bred to the law, and he did not fear maintaining me
+agreeable to what I should expect; and that, in short, as he believed I
+would not be ashamed of him, so he was resolved not to be ashamed of
+me, and that he scorned to be afraid to own me now, whom he resolved to
+own after I was his wife, and therefore I had nothing to do but to give
+him my hand, and he would answer for all the rest.
+
+I was now in a dreadful condition indeed, and now I repented heartily
+my easiness with the eldest brother; not from any reflection of
+conscience, but from a view of the happiness I might have enjoyed, and
+had now made impossible; for though I had no great scruples of
+conscience, as I have said, to struggle with, yet I could not think of
+being a whore to one brother and a wife to the other. But then it came
+into my thoughts that the first brother had promised to made me his
+wife when he came to his estate; but I presently remembered what I had
+often thought of, that he had never spoken a word of having me for a
+wife after he had conquered me for a mistress; and indeed, till now,
+though I said I thought of it often, yet it gave me no disturbance at
+all, for as he did not seem in the least to lessen his affection to me,
+so neither did he lessen his bounty, though he had the discretion
+himself to desire me not to lay out a penny of what he gave me in
+clothes, or to make the least show extraordinary, because it would
+necessarily give jealousy in the family, since everybody know I could
+come at such things no manner of ordinary way, but by some private
+friendship, which they would presently have suspected.
+
+But I was now in a great strait, and knew not what to do. The main
+difficulty was this: the younger brother not only laid close siege to
+me, but suffered it to be seen. He would come into his sister’s room,
+and his mother’s room, and sit down, and talk a thousand kind things of
+me, and to me, even before their faces, and when they were all there.
+This grew so public that the whole house talked of it, and his mother
+reproved him for it, and their carriage to me appeared quite altered.
+In short, his mother had let fall some speeches, as if she intended to
+put me out of the family; that is, in English, to turn me out of doors.
+Now I was sure this could not be a secret to his brother, only that he
+might not think, as indeed nobody else yet did, that the youngest
+brother had made any proposal to me about it; but as I easily could see
+that it would go farther, so I saw likewise there was an absolute
+necessity to speak of it to him, or that he would speak of it to me,
+and which to do first I knew not; that is, whether I should break it to
+him or let it alone till he should break it to me.
+
+Upon serious consideration, for indeed now I began to consider things
+very seriously, and never till now; I say, upon serious consideration,
+I resolved to tell him of it first; and it was not long before I had an
+opportunity, for the very next day his brother went to London upon some
+business, and the family being out a-visiting, just as it had happened
+before, and as indeed was often the case, he came according to his
+custom, to spend an hour or two with Mrs. Betty.
+
+When he came and had sat down a while, he easily perceived there was an
+alteration in my countenance, that I was not so free and pleasant with
+him as I used to be, and particularly, that I had been a-crying; he was
+not long before he took notice of it, and asked me in very kind terms
+what was the matter, and if anything troubled me. I would have put it
+off if I could, but it was not to be concealed; so after suffering many
+importunities to draw that out of me which I longed as much as possible
+to disclose, I told him that it was true something did trouble me, and
+something of such a nature that I could not conceal from him, and yet
+that I could not tell how to tell him of it neither; that it was a
+thing that not only surprised me, but greatly perplexed me, and that I
+knew not what course to take, unless he would direct me. He told me
+with great tenderness, that let it be what it would, I should not let
+it trouble me, for he would protect me from all the world.
+
+I then began at a distance, and told him I was afraid the ladies had
+got some secret information of our correspondence; for that it was easy
+to see that their conduct was very much changed towards me for a great
+while, and that now it was come to that pass that they frequently found
+fault with me, and sometimes fell quite out with me, though I never
+gave them the least occasion; that whereas I used always to lie with
+the eldest sister, I was lately put to lie by myself, or with one of
+the maids; and that I had overheard them several times talking very
+unkindly about me; but that which confirmed it all was, that one of the
+servants had told me that she had heard I was to be turned out, and
+that it was not safe for the family that I should be any longer in the
+house.
+
+He smiled when he heard all this, and I asked him how he could make so
+light of it, when he must needs know that if there was any discovery I
+was undone for ever, and that even it would hurt him, though not ruin
+him as it would me. I upbraided him, that he was like all the rest of
+the sex, that, when they had the character and honour of a woman at
+their mercy, oftentimes made it their jest, and at least looked upon it
+as a trifle, and counted the ruin of those they had had their will of
+as a thing of no value.
+
+He saw me warm and serious, and he changed his style immediately; he
+told me he was sorry I should have such a thought of him; that he had
+never given me the least occasion for it, but had been as tender of my
+reputation as he could be of his own; that he was sure our
+correspondence had been managed with so much address, that not one
+creature in the family had so much as a suspicion of it; that if he
+smiled when I told him my thoughts, it was at the assurance he lately
+received, that our understanding one another was not so much as known
+or guessed at; and that when he had told me how much reason he had to
+be easy, I should smile as he did, for he was very certain it would
+give me a full satisfaction.
+
+“This is a mystery I cannot understand,” says I, “or how it should be
+to my satisfaction that I am to be turned out of doors; for if our
+correspondence is not discovered, I know not what else I have done to
+change the countenances of the whole family to me, or to have them
+treat me as they do now, who formerly used me with so much tenderness,
+as if I had been one of their own children.”
+
+“Why, look you, child,” says he, “that they are uneasy about you, that
+is true; but that they have the least suspicion of the case as it is,
+and as it respects you and I, is so far from being true, that they
+suspect my brother Robin; and, in short, they are fully persuaded he
+makes love to you; nay, the fool has put it into their heads too
+himself, for he is continually bantering them about it, and making a
+jest of himself. I confess I think he is wrong to do so, because he
+cannot but see it vexes them, and makes them unkind to you; but ’tis a
+satisfaction to me, because of the assurance it gives me, that they do
+not suspect me in the least, and I hope this will be to your
+satisfaction too.”
+
+“So it is,” says I, “one way; but this does not reach my case at all,
+nor is this the chief thing that troubles me, though I have been
+concerned about that too.” “What is it, then?” says he. With which I
+fell to tears, and could say nothing to him at all. He strove to pacify
+me all he could, but began at last to be very pressing upon me to tell
+what it was. At last I answered that I thought I ought to tell him too,
+and that he had some right to know it; besides, that I wanted his
+direction in the case, for I was in such perplexity that I knew not
+what course to take, and then I related the whole affair to him. I told
+him how imprudently his brother had managed himself, in making himself
+so public; for that if he had kept it a secret, as such a thing ought
+to have been, I could but have denied him positively, without giving
+any reason for it, and he would in time have ceased his solicitations;
+but that he had the vanity, first, to depend upon it that I would not
+deny him, and then had taken the freedom to tell his resolution of
+having me to the whole house.
+
+I told him how far I had resisted him, and told him how sincere and
+honourable his offers were. “But,” says I, “my case will be doubly
+hard; for as they carry it ill to me now, because he desires to have
+me, they’ll carry it worse when they shall find I have denied him; and
+they will presently say, there’s something else in it, and then out it
+comes that I am married already to somebody else, or that I would never
+refuse a match so much above me as this was.”
+
+This discourse surprised him indeed very much. He told me that it was a
+critical point indeed for me to manage, and he did not see which way I
+should get out of it; but he would consider it, and let me know next
+time we met, what resolution he was come to about it; and in the
+meantime desired I would not give my consent to his brother, nor yet
+give him a flat denial, but that I would hold him in suspense a while.
+
+I seemed to start at his saying I should not give him my consent. I
+told him he knew very well I had no consent to give; that he had
+engaged himself to marry me, and that my consent was the same time
+engaged to him; that he had all along told me I was his wife, and I
+looked upon myself as effectually so as if the ceremony had passed; and
+that it was from his own mouth that I did so, he having all along
+persuaded me to call myself his wife.
+
+“Well, my dear,” says he, “don’t be concerned at that now; if I am not
+your husband, I’ll be as good as a husband to you; and do not let those
+things trouble you now, but let me look a little farther into this
+affair, and I shall be able to say more next time we meet.”
+
+He pacified me as well as he could with this, but I found he was very
+thoughtful, and that though he was very kind to me and kissed me a
+thousand times, and more I believe, and gave me money too, yet he
+offered no more all the while we were together, which was above two
+hours, and which I much wondered at indeed at that time, considering
+how it used to be, and what opportunity we had.
+
+His brother did not come from London for five or six days, and it was
+two days more before he got an opportunity to talk with him; but then
+getting him by himself he began to talk very close to him about it, and
+the same evening got an opportunity (for we had a long conference
+together) to repeat all their discourse to me, which, as near as I can
+remember, was to the purpose following. He told him he heard strange
+news of him since he went, viz. that he made love to Mrs. Betty. “Well,”
+says his brother a little angrily, “and so I do. And what then? What
+has anybody to do with that?” “Nay,” says his brother, “don’t be angry,
+Robin; I don’t pretend to have anything to do with it; nor do I pretend
+to be angry with you about it. But I find they do concern themselves
+about it, and that they have used the poor girl ill about it, which I
+should take as done to myself.” “Whom do you mean by _they_?” says
+Robin. “I mean my mother and the girls,” says the elder brother. “But
+hark ye,” says his brother, “are you in earnest? Do you really love
+this girl? You may be free with me, you know.” “Why, then,” says Robin,
+“I will be free with you; I do love her above all the women in the
+world, and I will have her, let them say and do what they will. I
+believe the girl will not deny me.”
+
+It struck me to the heart when he told me this, for though it was most
+rational to think I would not deny him, yet I knew in my own conscience
+I must deny him, and I saw my ruin in my being obliged to do so; but I
+knew it was my business to talk otherwise then, so I interrupted him in
+his story thus.
+
+“Ay!” said I, “does he think I cannot deny him? But he shall find I can
+deny him, for all that.”
+
+“Well, my dear,” says he, “but let me give you the whole story as it
+went on between us, and then say what you will.”
+
+Then he went on and told me that he replied thus: “But, brother, you
+know she has nothing, and you may have several ladies with good
+fortunes.”
+
+“’Tis no matter for that,” said Robin; “I love the girl, and I will
+never please my pocket in marrying, and not please my fancy.” “And so,
+my dear,” adds he, “there is no opposing him.”
+
+“Yes, yes,” says I, “you shall see I can oppose him; I have learnt to
+say No, now though I had not learnt it before; if the best lord in the
+land offered me marriage now, I could very cheerfully say No to him.”
+
+“Well, but, my dear,” says he, “what can you say to him? You know, as
+you said when we talked of it before, he will ask you many questions
+about it, and all the house will wonder what the meaning of it should
+be.”
+
+“Why,” says I, smiling, “I can stop all their mouths at one clap by
+telling him, and them too, that I am married already to his elder
+brother.”
+
+He smiled a little too at the word, but I could see it startled him,
+and he could not hide the disorder it put him into. However, he
+returned, “Why, though that may be true in some sense, yet I suppose
+you are but in jest when you talk of giving such an answer as that; it
+may not be convenient on many accounts.”
+
+“No, no,” says I pleasantly, “I am not so fond of letting the secret
+come out without your consent.”
+
+“But what, then, can you say to him, or to them,” says he, “when they
+find you positive against a match which would be apparently so much to
+your advantage?”
+
+“Why,” says I, “should I be at a loss? First of all, I am not obliged
+to give me any reason at all; on the other hand, I may tell them I am
+married already, and stop there, and that will be a full stop too to
+him, for he can have no reason to ask one question after it.”
+
+“Ay,” says he; “but the whole house will tease you about that, even to
+father and mother, and if you deny them positively, they will be
+disobliged at you, and suspicious besides.”
+
+“Why,” says I, “what can I do? What would you have me do? I was in
+straight enough before, and as I told you, I was in perplexity before,
+and acquainted you with the circumstances, that I might have your
+advice.”
+
+“My dear,” says he, “I have been considering very much upon it, you may
+be sure, and though it is a piece of advice that has a great many
+mortifications in it to me, and may at first seem strange to you, yet,
+all things considered, I see no better way for you than to let him go
+on; and if you find him hearty and in earnest, marry him.”
+
+I gave him a look full of horror at those words, and, turning pale as
+death, was at the very point of sinking down out of the chair I sat in;
+when, giving a start, “My dear,” says he aloud, “what’s the matter with
+you? Where are you a-going?” and a great many such things; and with
+jogging and called to me, fetched me a little to myself, though it was
+a good while before I fully recovered my senses, and was not able to
+speak for several minutes more.
+
+When I was fully recovered he began again. “My dear,” says he, “what
+made you so surprised at what I said? I would have you consider
+seriously of it? You may see plainly how the family stand in this case,
+and they would be stark mad if it was my case, as it is my brother’s;
+and for aught I see, it would be my ruin and yours too.”
+
+“Ay!” says I, still speaking angrily; “are all your protestations and
+vows to be shaken by the dislike of the family? Did I not always object
+that to you, and you made light thing of it, as what you were above,
+and would value; and is it come to this now?” said I. “Is this your
+faith and honour, your love, and the solidity of your promises?”
+
+He continued perfectly calm, notwithstanding all my reproaches, and I
+was not sparing of them at all; but he replied at last, “My dear, I
+have not broken one promise with you yet; I did tell you I would marry
+you when I was come to my estate; but you see my father is a hale,
+healthy man, and may live these thirty years still, and not be older
+than several are round us in town; and you never proposed my marrying
+you sooner, because you knew it might be my ruin; and as to all the
+rest, I have not failed you in anything, you have wanted for nothing.”
+
+I could not deny a word of this, and had nothing to say to it in
+general. “But why, then,” says I, “can you persuade me to such a horrid
+step as leaving you, since you have not left me? Will you allow no
+affection, no love on my side, where there has been so much on your
+side? Have I made you no returns? Have I given no testimony of my
+sincerity and of my passion? Are the sacrifices I have made of honour
+and modesty to you no proof of my being tied to you in bonds too strong
+to be broken?”
+
+“But here, my dear,” says he, “you may come into a safe station, and
+appear with honour and with splendour at once, and the remembrance of
+what we have done may be wrapt up in an eternal silence, as if it had
+never happened; you shall always have my respect, and my sincere
+affection, only then it shall be honest, and perfectly just to my
+brother; you shall be my dear sister, as now you are my dear——” and
+there he stopped.
+
+“Your dear whore,” says I, “you would have said if you had gone on, and
+you might as well have said it; but I understand you. However, I desire
+you to remember the long discourses you have had with me, and the many
+hours’ pains you have taken to persuade me to believe myself an honest
+woman; that I was your wife intentionally, though not in the eyes of
+the world, and that it was as effectual a marriage that had passed
+between us as if we had been publicly wedded by the parson of the
+parish. You know and cannot but remember that these have been your own
+words to me.”
+
+I found this was a little too close upon him, but I made it up in what
+follows. He stood stock-still for a while and said nothing, and I went
+on thus: “You cannot,” says I, “without the highest injustice, believe
+that I yielded upon all these persuasions without a love not to be
+questioned, not to be shaken again by anything that could happen
+afterward. If you have such dishonourable thoughts of me, I must ask
+you what foundation in any of my behaviour have I given for such a
+suggestion?
+
+“If, then, I have yielded to the importunities of my affection, and if
+I have been persuaded to believe that I am really, and in the essence
+of the thing, your wife, shall I now give the lie to all those
+arguments and call myself your whore, or mistress, which is the same
+thing? And will you transfer me to your brother? Can you transfer my
+affection? Can you bid me cease loving you, and bid me love him? It is
+in my power, think you, to make such a change at demand? No, sir,” said
+I, “depend upon it ’tis impossible, and whatever the change of your
+side may be, I will ever be true; and I had much rather, since it is
+come that unhappy length, be your whore than your brother’s wife.”
+
+He appeared pleased and touched with the impression of this last
+discourse, and told me that he stood where he did before; that he had
+not been unfaithful to me in any one promise he had ever made yet, but
+that there were so many terrible things presented themselves to his
+view in the affair before me, and that on my account in particular,
+that he had thought of the other as a remedy so effectual as nothing
+could come up to it. That he thought this would not be entire parting
+us, but we might love as friends all our days, and perhaps with more
+satisfaction than we should in the station we were now in, as things
+might happen; that he durst say, I could not apprehend anything from
+him as to betraying a secret, which could not but be the destruction of
+us both, if it came out; that he had but one question to ask of me that
+could lie in the way of it, and if that question was answered in the
+negative, he could not but think still it was the only step I could
+take.
+
+I guessed at his question presently, namely, whether I was sure I was
+not with child? As to that, I told him he need not be concerned about
+it, for I was not with child. “Why, then, my dear,” says he, “we have
+no time to talk further now. Consider of it, and think closely about
+it; I cannot but be of the opinion still, that it will be the best
+course you can take.” And with this he took his leave, and the more
+hastily too, his mother and sisters ringing at the gate, just at the
+moment that he had risen up to go.
+
+He left me in the utmost confusion of thought; and he easily perceived
+it the next day, and all the rest of the week, for it was but Tuesday
+evening when we talked; but he had no opportunity to come at me all
+that week, till the Sunday after, when I, being indisposed, did not go
+to church, and he, making some excuse for the like, stayed at home.
+
+And now he had me an hour and a half again by myself, and we fell into
+the same arguments all over again, or at least so near the same, as it
+would be to no purpose to repeat them. At last I asked him warmly, what
+opinion he must have of my modesty, that he could suppose I should so
+much as entertain a thought of lying with two brothers, and assured him
+it could never be. I added, if he was to tell me that he would never
+see me more, than which nothing but death could be more terrible, yet I
+could never entertain a thought so dishonourable to myself, and so base
+to him; and therefore, I entreated him, if he had one grain of respect
+or affection left for me, that he would speak no more of it to me, or
+that he would pull his sword out and kill me. He appeared surprised at
+my obstinacy, as he called it; told me I was unkind to myself, and
+unkind to him in it; that it was a crisis unlooked for upon us both,
+and impossible for either of us to foresee, but that he did not see any
+other way to save us both from ruin, and therefore he thought it the
+more unkind; but that if he must say no more of it to me, he added with
+an unusual coldness, that he did not know anything else we had to talk
+of; and so he rose up to take his leave. I rose up too, as if with the
+same indifference; but when he came to give me as it were a parting
+kiss, I burst out into such a passion of crying, that though I would
+have spoke, I could not, and only pressing his hand, seemed to give him
+the adieu, but cried vehemently.
+
+He was sensibly moved with this; so he sat down again, and said a great
+many kind things to me, to abate the excess of my passion, but still
+urged the necessity of what he had proposed; all the while insisting,
+that if I did refuse, he would notwithstanding provide for me; but
+letting me plainly see that he would decline me in the main point—nay,
+even as a mistress; making it a point of honour not to lie with the
+woman that, for aught he knew, might come to be his brother’s wife.
+
+The bare loss of him as a gallant was not so much my affliction as the
+loss of his person, whom indeed I loved to distraction; and the loss of
+all the expectations I had, and which I always had built my hopes upon,
+of having him one day for my husband. These things oppressed my mind so
+much, that, in short, I fell very ill; the agonies of my mind, in a
+word, threw me into a high fever, and long it was, that none in the
+family expected my life.
+
+I was reduced very low indeed, and was often delirious and
+light-headed; but nothing lay so near me as the fear that, when I was
+light-headed, I should say something or other to his prejudice. I was
+distressed in my mind also to see him, and so he was to see me, for he
+really loved me most passionately; but it could not be; there was not
+the least room to desire it on one side or other, or so much as to make
+it decent.
+
+It was near five weeks that I kept my bed and though the violence of my
+fever abated in three weeks, yet it several times returned; and the
+physicians said two or three times, they could do no more for me, but
+that they must leave nature and the distemper to fight it out, only
+strengthening the first with cordials to maintain the struggle. After
+the end of five weeks I grew better, but was so weak, so altered, so
+melancholy, and recovered so slowly, that the physicians apprehended I
+should go into a consumption; and which vexed me most, they gave it as
+their opinion that my mind was oppressed, that something troubled me,
+and, in short, that I was in love. Upon this, the whole house was set
+upon me to examine me, and to press me to tell whether I was in love or
+not, and with whom; but as I well might, I denied my being in love at
+all.
+
+They had on this occasion a squabble one day about me at table, that
+had like to have put the whole family in an uproar, and for some time
+did so. They happened to be all at table but the father; as for me, I
+was ill, and in my chamber. At the beginning of the talk, which was
+just as they had finished their dinner, the old gentlewoman, who had
+sent me somewhat to eat, called her maid to go up and ask me if I would
+have any more; but the maid brought down word I had not eaten half what
+she had sent me already.
+
+“Alas,” says the old lady, “that poor girl! I am afraid she will never
+be well.”
+
+“Well!” says the elder brother, “how should Mrs. Betty be well? They
+say she is in love.”
+
+“I believe nothing of it,” says the old gentlewoman.
+
+“I don’t know,” says the eldest sister, “what to say to it; they have
+made such a rout about her being so handsome, and so charming, and I
+know not what, and that in her hearing too, that has turned the
+creature’s head, I believe, and who knows what possessions may follow
+such doings? For my part, I don’t know what to make of it.”
+
+“Why, sister, you must acknowledge she is very handsome,” says the
+elder brother.
+
+“Ay, and a great deal handsomer than you, sister,” says Robin, “and
+that’s your mortification.”
+
+“Well, well, that is not the question,” says his sister; “that girl is
+well enough, and she knows it well enough; she need not be told of it
+to make her vain.”
+
+“We are not talking of her being vain,” says the elder brother, “but of
+her being in love; it may be she is in love with herself; it seems my
+sisters think so.”
+
+“I would she was in love with me,” says Robin; “I’d quickly put her out
+of her pain.”
+
+“What d’ye mean by that, son,” says the old lady; “how can you talk
+so?”
+
+“Why, madam,” says Robin, again, very honestly, “do you think I’d let
+the poor girl die for love, and of one that is near at hand to be had,
+too?”
+
+“Fie, brother!”, says the second sister, “how can you talk so? Would
+you take a creature that has not a groat in the world?”
+
+“Prithee, child,” says Robin, “beauty’s a portion, and good-humour with
+it is a double portion; I wish thou hadst half her stock of both for
+thy portion.” So there was her mouth stopped.
+
+“I find,” says the eldest sister, “if Betty is not in love, my brother
+is. I wonder he has not broke his mind to Betty; I warrant she won’t
+say No.”
+
+“They that yield when they’re asked,” says Robin, “are one step before
+them that were never asked to yield, sister, and two steps before them
+that yield before they are asked; and that’s an answer to you, sister.”
+
+This fired the sister, and she flew into a passion, and said, things
+were come to that pass that it was time the wench, meaning me, was out
+of the family; and but that she was not fit to be turned out, she hoped
+her father and mother would consider of it as soon as she could be
+removed.
+
+Robin replied, that was business for the master and mistress of the
+family, who where not to be taught by one that had so little judgment
+as his eldest sister.
+
+It ran up a great deal farther; the sister scolded, Robin rallied and
+bantered, but poor Betty lost ground by it extremely in the family. I
+heard of it, and I cried heartily, and the old lady came up to me,
+somebody having told her that I was so much concerned about it. I
+complained to her, that it was very hard the doctors should pass such a
+censure upon me, for which they had no ground; and that it was still
+harder, considering the circumstances I was under in the family; that I
+hoped I had done nothing to lessen her esteem for me, or given any
+occasion for the bickering between her sons and daughters, and I had
+more need to think of a coffin than of being in love, and begged she
+would not let me suffer in her opinion for anybody’s mistakes but my
+own.
+
+She was sensible of the justice of what I said, but told me, since
+there had been such a clamour among them, and that her younger son
+talked after such a rattling way as he did, she desired I would be so
+faithful to her as to answer her but one question sincerely. I told her
+I would, with all my heart, and with the utmost plainness and
+sincerity. Why, then, the question was, whether there was anything
+between her son Robert and me. I told her with all the protestations of
+sincerity that I was able to make, and as I might well, do, that there
+was not, nor ever had been; I told her that Mr. Robert had rattled and
+jested, as she knew it was his way, and that I took it always, as I
+supposed he meant it, to be a wild airy way of discourse that had no
+signification in it; and again assured her, that there was not the
+least tittle of what she understood by it between us; and that those
+who had suggested it had done me a great deal of wrong, and Mr. Robert
+no service at all.
+
+The old lady was fully satisfied, and kissed me, spoke cheerfully to
+me, and bid me take care of my health and want for nothing, and so took
+her leave. But when she came down she found the brother and all his
+sisters together by the ears; they were angry, even to passion, at his
+upbraiding them with their being homely, and having never had any
+sweethearts, never having been asked the question, and their being so
+forward as almost to ask first. He rallied them upon the subject of
+Mrs. Betty; how pretty, how good-humoured, how she sung better than
+they did, and danced better, and how much handsomer she was; and in
+doing this he omitted no ill-natured thing that could vex them, and
+indeed, pushed too hard upon them. The old lady came down in the height
+of it, and to put a stop it to, told them all the discourse she had had
+with me, and how I answered, that there was nothing between Mr. Robert
+and I.
+
+“She’s wrong there,” says Robin, “for if there was not a great deal
+between us, we should be closer together than we are. I told her I
+loved her hugely,” says he, “but I could never make the jade believe I
+was in earnest.” “I do not know how you should,” says his mother;
+“nobody in their senses could believe you were in earnest, to talk so
+to a poor girl, whose circumstances you know so well.
+
+“But prithee, son,” adds she, “since you tell me that you could not
+make her believe you were in earnest, what must we believe about it?
+For you ramble so in your discourse, that nobody knows whether you are
+in earnest or in jest; but as I find the girl, by your own confession,
+has answered truly, I wish you would do so too, and tell me seriously,
+so that I may depend upon it. Is there anything in it or no? Are you in
+earnest or no? Are you distracted, indeed, or are you not? ’Tis a
+weighty question, and I wish you would make us easy about it.”
+
+“By my faith, madam,” says Robin, “’tis in vain to mince the matter or
+tell any more lies about it; I am in earnest, as much as a man is
+that’s going to be hanged. If Mrs. Betty would say she loved me, and
+that she would marry me, I’d have her tomorrow morning fasting, and
+say, ‘To have and to hold,’ instead of eating my breakfast.”
+
+“Well,” says the mother, “then there’s one son lost”; and she said it
+in a very mournful tone, as one greatly concerned at it.
+
+“I hope not, madam,” says Robin; “no man is lost when a good wife has
+found him.”
+
+“Why, but, child,” says the old lady, “she is a beggar.”
+
+“Why, then, madam, she has the more need of charity,” says Robin; “I’ll
+take her off the hands of the parish, and she and I’ll beg together.”
+
+“It’s bad jesting with such things,” says the mother.
+
+“I don’t jest, madam,” says Robin. “We’ll come and beg your pardon,
+madam; and your blessing, madam, and my father’s.”
+
+“This is all out of the way, son,” says the mother. “If you are in
+earnest you are undone.”
+
+“I am afraid not,” says he, “for I am really afraid she won’t have me;
+after all my sister’s huffing and blustering, I believe I shall never
+be able to persuade her to it.”
+
+“That’s a fine tale, indeed; she is not so far out of her senses
+neither. Mrs. Betty is no fool,” says the younger sister. “Do you think
+she has learnt to say No, any more than other people?”
+
+“No, Mrs. Mirth-wit,” says Robin, “Mrs. Betty’s no fool; but Mrs. Betty
+may be engaged some other way, and what then?”
+
+“Nay,” says the eldest sister, “we can say nothing to that. Who must it
+be to, then? She is never out of the doors; it must be between you.”
+
+“I have nothing to say to that,” says Robin. “I have been examined
+enough; there’s my brother. If it must be between us, go to work with
+him.”
+
+This stung the elder brother to the quick, and he concluded that Robin
+had discovered something. However, he kept himself from appearing
+disturbed. “Prithee,” says he, “don’t go to shame your stories off upon
+me; I tell you, I deal in no such ware; I have nothing to say to Mrs.
+Betty, nor to any of the Mrs. Bettys in the parish”; and with that he
+rose up and brushed off.
+
+“No,” says the eldest sister, “I dare answer for my brother; he knows
+the world better.”
+
+Thus the discourse ended, but it left the elder brother quite
+confounded. He concluded his brother had made a full discovery, and he
+began to doubt whether I had been concerned in it or not; but with all
+his management he could not bring it about to get at me. At last he was
+so perplexed that he was quite desperate, and resolved he would come
+into my chamber and see me, whatever came of it. In order to do this,
+he contrived it so, that one day after dinner, watching his eldest
+sister till he could see her go upstairs, he runs after her. “Hark ye,
+sister,” says he, “where is this sick woman? May not a body see her?”
+“Yes,” says the sister, “I believe you may; but let me go first a
+little, and I’ll tell you.” So she ran up to the door and gave me
+notice, and presently called to him again. “Brother,” says she, “you
+may come if you please.” So in he came, just in the same kind of rant.
+“Well,” says he at the door as he came in, “where is this sick body
+that’s in love? How do ye do, Mrs. Betty?” I would have got up out of
+my chair, but was so weak I could not for a good while; and he saw it,
+and his sister too, and she said, “Come, do not strive to stand up; my
+brother desires no ceremony, especially now you are so weak.” “No, no,
+Mrs. Betty, pray sit still,” says he, and so sits himself down in a
+chair over against me, and appeared as if he was mighty merry.
+
+He talked a lot of rambling stuff to his sister and to me, sometimes of
+one thing, sometimes of another, on purpose to amuse his sister, and
+every now and then would turn it upon the old story, directing it to
+me. “Poor Mrs. Betty,” says he, “it is a sad thing to be in love; why,
+it has reduced you sadly.” At last I spoke a little. “I am glad to see
+you so merry, sir,” says I; “but I think the doctor might have found
+something better to do than to make his game at his patients. If I had
+been ill of no other distemper, I know the proverb too well to have let
+him come to me.” “What proverb?” says he, “Oh! I remember it now. What—
+
+“Where love is the case,
+The doctor’s an ass.”
+
+
+Is not that it, Mrs. Betty?” I smiled and said nothing. “Nay,” says he,
+“I think the effect has proved it to be love, for it seems the doctor
+has been able to do you but little service; you mend very slowly, they
+say. I doubt there’s somewhat in it, Mrs. Betty; I doubt you are sick
+of the incurables, and that is love.” I smiled and said, “No, indeed,
+sir, that’s none of my distemper.”
+
+We had a deal of such discourse, and sometimes others that signified as
+little. By and by he asked me to sing them a song, at which I smiled,
+and said my singing days were over. At last he asked me if he should
+play upon his flute to me; his sister said she believe it would hurt
+me, and that my head could not bear it. I bowed, and said, No, it would
+not hurt me. “And, pray, madam,” said I, “do not hinder it; I love the
+music of the flute very much.” Then his sister said, “Well, do, then,
+brother.” With that he pulled out the key of his closet. “Dear sister,”
+says he, “I am very lazy; do step to my closet and fetch my flute; it
+lies in such a drawer,” naming a place where he was sure it was not,
+that she might be a little while a-looking for it.
+
+As soon as she was gone, he related the whole story to me of the
+discourse his brother had about me, and of his pushing it at him, and
+his concern about it, which was the reason of his contriving this visit
+to me. I assured him I had never opened my mouth either to his brother
+or to anybody else. I told him the dreadful exigence I was in; that my
+love to him, and his offering to have me forget that affection and
+remove it to another, had thrown me down; and that I had a thousand
+times wished I might die rather than recover, and to have the same
+circumstances to struggle with as I had before, and that his
+backwardness to life had been the great reason of the slowness of my
+recovering. I added that I foresaw that as soon as I was well, I must
+quit the family, and that as for marrying his brother, I abhorred the
+thoughts of it after what had been my case with him, and that he might
+depend upon it I would never see his brother again upon that subject;
+that if he would break all his vows and oaths and engagements with me,
+be that between his conscience and his honour and himself; but he
+should never be able to say that I, whom he had persuaded to call
+myself his wife, and who had given him the liberty to use me as a wife,
+was not as faithful to him as a wife ought to be, whatever he might be
+to me.
+
+He was going to reply, and had said that he was sorry I could not be
+persuaded, and was a-going to say more, but he heard his sister
+a-coming, and so did I; and yet I forced out these few words as a
+reply, that I could never be persuaded to love one brother and marry
+another. He shook his head and said, “Then I am ruined,” meaning
+himself; and that moment his sister entered the room and told him she
+could not find the flute. “Well,” says he merrily, “this laziness won’t
+do”; so he gets up and goes himself to go to look for it, but comes
+back without it too; not but that he could have found it, but because
+his mind was a little disturbed, and he had no mind to play; and,
+besides, the errand he sent his sister on was answered another way; for
+he only wanted an opportunity to speak to me, which he gained, though
+not much to his satisfaction.
+
+I had, however, a great deal of satisfaction in having spoken my mind
+to him with freedom, and with such an honest plainness, as I have
+related; and though it did not at all work the way I desired, that is
+to say, to oblige the person to me the more, yet it took from him all
+possibility of quitting me but by a downright breach of honour, and
+giving up all the faith of a gentleman to me, which he had so often
+engaged by, never to abandon me, but to make me his wife as soon as he
+came to his estate.
+
+It was not many weeks after this before I was about the house again,
+and began to grow well; but I continued melancholy, silent, dull, and
+retired, which amazed the whole family, except he that knew the reason
+of it; yet it was a great while before he took any notice of it, and I,
+as backward to speak as he, carried respectfully to him, but never
+offered to speak a word to him that was particular of any kind
+whatsoever; and this continued for sixteen or seventeen weeks; so that,
+as I expected every day to be dismissed the family, on account of what
+distaste they had taken another way, in which I had no guilt, so I
+expected to hear no more of this gentleman, after all his solemn vows
+and protestations, but to be ruined and abandoned.
+
+At last I broke the way myself in the family for my removing; for being
+talking seriously with the old lady one day, about my own circumstances
+in the world, and how my distemper had left a heaviness upon my
+spirits, that I was not the same thing I was before, the old lady said,
+“I am afraid, Betty, what I have said to you about my son has had some
+influence upon you, and that you are melancholy on his account; pray,
+will you let me know how the matter stands with you both, if it may not
+be improper? For, as for Robin, he does nothing but rally and banter
+when I speak of it to him.” “Why, truly, madam,” said I, “that matter
+stands as I wish it did not, and I shall be very sincere with you in
+it, whatever befalls me for it. Mr. Robert has several times proposed
+marriage to me, which is what I had no reason to expect, my poor
+circumstances considered; but I have always resisted him, and that
+perhaps in terms more positive than became me, considering the regard
+that I ought to have for every branch of your family; but,” said I,
+“madam, I could never so far forget my obligation to you and all your
+house, to offer to consent to a thing which I know must needs be
+disobliging to you, and this I have made my argument to him, and have
+positively told him that I would never entertain a thought of that kind
+unless I had your consent, and his father’s also, to whom I was bound
+by so many invincible obligations.”
+
+“And is this possible, Mrs. Betty?” says the old lady. “Then you have
+been much juster to us than we have been to you; for we have all looked
+upon you as a kind of snare to my son, and I had a proposal to make to
+you for your removing, for fear of it; but I had not yet mentioned it
+to you, because I thought you were not thorough well, and I was afraid
+of grieving you too much, lest it should throw you down again; for we
+have all a respect for you still, though not so much as to have it be
+the ruin of my son; but if it be as you say, we have all wronged you
+very much.”
+
+“As to the truth of what I say, madam,” said I, “refer you to your son
+himself; if he will do me any justice, he must tell you the story just
+as I have told it.”
+
+Away goes the old lady to her daughters and tells them the whole story,
+just as I had told it her; and they were surprised at it, you may be
+sure, as I believed they would be. One said she could never have
+thought it; another said Robin was a fool; a third said she would not
+believe a word of it, and she would warrant that Robin would tell the
+story another way. But the old gentlewoman, who was resolved to go to
+the bottom of it before I could have the least opportunity of
+acquainting her son with what had passed, resolved too that she would
+talk with her son immediately, and to that purpose sent for him, for he
+was gone but to a lawyer’s house in the town, upon some petty business
+of his own, and upon her sending he returned immediately.
+
+Upon his coming up to them, for they were all still together, “Sit
+down, Robin,” says the old lady, “I must have some talk with you.”
+“With all my heart, madam,” says Robin, looking very merry. “I hope it
+is about a good wife, for I am at a great loss in that affair.” “How
+can that be?” says his mother; “did not you say you resolved to have
+Mrs. Betty?” “Ay, madam,” says Robin, “but there is one has forbid the
+banns.” “Forbid, the banns!” says his mother; “who can that be?” “Even
+Mrs. Betty herself,” says Robin. “How so?” says his mother. “Have you
+asked her the question, then?” “Yes, indeed, madam,” says Robin. “I
+have attacked her in form five times since she was sick, and am beaten
+off; the jade is so stout she won’t capitulate nor yield upon any
+terms, except such as I cannot effectually grant.” “Explain yourself,”
+says the mother, “for I am surprised; I do not understand you. I hope
+you are not in earnest.”
+
+“Why, madam,” says he, “the case is plain enough upon me, it explains
+itself; she won’t have me, she says; is not that plain enough? I think
+’tis plain, and pretty rough too.” “Well, but,” says the mother, “you
+talk of conditions that you cannot grant; what does she want—a
+settlement? Her jointure ought to be according to her portion; but what
+fortune does she bring you?” “Nay, as to fortune,” says Robin, “she is
+rich enough; I am satisfied in that point; but ’tis I that am not able
+to come up to her terms, and she is positive she will not have me
+without.”
+
+Here the sisters put in. “Madam,” says the second sister, “’tis
+impossible to be serious with him; he will never give a direct answer
+to anything; you had better let him alone, and talk no more of it to
+him; you know how to dispose of her out of his way if you thought there
+was anything in it.” Robin was a little warmed with his sister’s
+rudeness, but he was even with her, and yet with good manners too.
+“There are two sorts of people, madam,” says he, turning to his mother,
+“that there is no contending with; that is, a wise body and a fool;
+’tis a little hard I should engage with both of them together.”
+
+The younger sister then put in. “We must be fools indeed,” says she,
+“in my brother’s opinion, that he should think we can believe he has
+seriously asked Mrs. Betty to marry him, and that she has refused him.”
+
+“Answer, and answer not, say Solomon,” replied her brother. “When your
+brother had said to your mother that he had asked her no less than five
+times, and that it was so, that she positively denied him, methinks a
+younger sister need not question the truth of it when her mother did
+not.” “My mother, you see, did not understand it,” says the second
+sister. “There’s some difference,” says Robin, “between desiring me to
+explain it, and telling me she did not believe it.”
+
+“Well, but, son,” says the old lady, “if you are disposed to let us
+into the mystery of it, what were these hard conditions?” “Yes, madam,”
+says Robin, “I had done it before now, if the teasers here had not
+worried me by way of interruption. The conditions are, that I bring my
+father and you to consent to it, and without that she protests she will
+never see me more upon that head; and to these conditions, as I said, I
+suppose I shall never be able to grant. I hope my warm sisters will be
+answered now, and blush a little; if not, I have no more to say till I
+hear further.”
+
+This answer was surprising to them all, though less to the mother,
+because of what I had said to her. As to the daughters, they stood mute
+a great while; but the mother said with some passion, “Well, I had
+heard this before, but I could not believe it; but if it is so, then we
+have all done Betty wrong, and she has behaved better than I ever
+expected.” “Nay,” says the eldest sister, “if it be so, she has acted
+handsomely indeed.” “I confess,” says the mother, “it was none of her
+fault, if he was fool enough to take a fancy to her; but to give such
+an answer to him, shows more respect to your father and me than I can
+tell how to express; I shall value the girl the better for it as long
+as I know her.” “But I shall not,” says Robin, “unless you will give
+your consent.” “I’ll consider of that a while,” says the mother; “I
+assure you, if there were not some other objections in the way, this
+conduct of hers would go a great way to bring me to consent.” “I wish
+it would go quite through it,” says Robin; “if you had as much thought
+about making me easy as you have about making me rich, you would soon
+consent to it.”
+
+“Why, Robin,” says the mother again, “are you really in earnest? Would
+you so fain have her as you pretend?” “Really, madam,” says Robin, “I
+think ’tis hard you should question me upon that head after all I have
+said. I won’t say that I will have her; how can I resolve that point,
+when you see I cannot have her without your consent? Besides, I am not
+bound to marry at all. But this I will say, I am in earnest in, that I
+will never have anybody else if I can help it; so you may determine for
+me. Betty or nobody is the word, and the question which of the two
+shall be in your breast to decide, madam, provided only, that my
+good-humoured sisters here may have no vote in it.”
+
+All this was dreadful to me, for the mother began to yield, and Robin
+pressed her home on it. On the other hand, she advised with the eldest
+son, and he used all the arguments in the world to persuade her to
+consent; alleging his brother’s passionate love for me, and my generous
+regard to the family, in refusing my own advantages upon such a nice
+point of honour, and a thousand such things. And as to the father, he
+was a man in a hurry of public affairs and getting money, seldom at
+home, thoughtful of the main chance, but left all those things to his
+wife.
+
+You may easily believe, that when the plot was thus, as they thought,
+broke out, and that every one thought they knew how things were
+carried, it was not so difficult or so dangerous for the elder brother,
+whom nobody suspected of anything, to have a freer access to me than
+before; nay, the mother, which was just as he wished, proposed it to
+him to talk with Mrs. Betty. “For it may be, son,” said she, “you may
+see farther into the thing than I, and see if you think she has been so
+positive as Robin says she has been, or no.” This was as well as he
+could wish, and he, as it were, yielding to talk with me at his
+mother’s request, she brought me to him into her own chamber, told me
+her son had some business with me at her request, and desired me to be
+very sincere with him, and then she left us together, and he went and
+shut the door after her.
+
+He came back to me and took me in his arms, and kissed me very
+tenderly; but told me he had a long discourse to hold with me, and it
+was not come to that crisis, that I should make myself happy or
+miserable as long as I lived; that the thing was now gone so far, that
+if I could not comply with his desire, we would both be ruined. Then he
+told the whole story between Robin, as he called him, and his mother
+and sisters and himself, as it is above. “And now, dear child,” says
+he, “consider what it will be to marry a gentleman of a good family, in
+good circumstances, and with the consent of the whole house, and to
+enjoy all that the world can give you; and what, on the other hand, to
+be sunk into the dark circumstances of a woman that has lost her
+reputation; and that though I shall be a private friend to you while I
+live, yet as I shall be suspected always, so you will be afraid to see
+me, and I shall be afraid to own you.”
+
+He gave me no time to reply, but went on with me thus: “What has
+happened between us, child, so long as we both agree to do so, may be
+buried and forgotten. I shall always be your sincere friend, without
+any inclination to nearer intimacy, when you become my sister; and we
+shall have all the honest part of conversation without any reproaches
+between us of having done amiss. I beg of you to consider it, and to
+not stand in the way of your own safety and prosperity; and to satisfy
+you that I am sincere,” added he, “I here offer you £500 in money, to
+make you some amends for the freedoms I have taken with you, which we
+shall look upon as some of the follies of our lives, which ’tis hoped
+we may repent of.”
+
+He spoke this in so much more moving terms than it is possible for me
+to express, and with so much greater force of argument than I can
+repeat, that I only recommend it to those who read the story, to
+suppose, that as he held me above an hour and a half in that discourse,
+so he answered all my objections, and fortified his discourse with all
+the arguments that human wit and art could devise.
+
+I cannot say, however, that anything he said made impression enough
+upon me so as to give me any thought of the matter, till he told me at
+last very plainly, that if I refused, he was sorry to add that he could
+never go on with me in that station as we stood before; that though he
+loved me as well as ever, and that I was as agreeable to him as ever,
+yet sense of virtue had not so far forsaken him as to suffer him to lie
+with a woman that his brother courted to make his wife; and if he took
+his leave of me, with a denial in this affair, whatever he might do for
+me in the point of support, grounded on his first engagement of
+maintaining me, yet he would not have me be surprised that he was
+obliged to tell me he could not allow himself to see me any more; and
+that, indeed, I could not expect it of him.
+
+I received this last part with some token of surprise and disorder, and
+had much ado to avoid sinking down, for indeed I loved him to an
+extravagance not easy to imagine; but he perceived my disorder. He
+entreated me to consider seriously of it; assured me that it was the
+only way to preserve our mutual affection; that in this station we
+might love as friends, with the utmost passion, and with a love of
+relation untainted, free from our just reproaches, and free from other
+people’s suspicions; that he should ever acknowledge his happiness
+owing to me; that he would be debtor to me as long as he lived, and
+would be paying that debt as long as he had breath. Thus he wrought me
+up, in short, to a kind of hesitation in the matter; having the dangers
+on one side represented in lively figures, and indeed, heightened by my
+imagination of being turned out to the wide world a mere cast-off
+whore, for it was no less, and perhaps exposed as such, with little to
+provide for myself, with no friend, no acquaintance in the whole world,
+out of that town, and there I could not pretend to stay. All this
+terrified me to the last degree, and he took care upon all occasions to
+lay it home to me in the worst colours that it could be possible to be
+drawn in. On the other hand, he failed not to set forth the easy,
+prosperous life which I was going to live.
+
+He answered all that I could object from affection, and from former
+engagements, with telling me the necessity that was before us of taking
+other measures now; and as to his promises of marriage, the nature of
+things, he said, had put an end to that, by the probability of my being
+his brother’s wife, before the time to which his promises all referred.
+
+Thus, in a word, I may say, he reasoned me out of my reason; he
+conquered all my arguments, and I began to see a danger that I was in,
+which I had not considered of before, and that was, of being dropped by
+both of them and left alone in the world to shift for myself.
+
+This, and his persuasion, at length prevailed with me to consent,
+though with so much reluctance, that it was easy to see I should go to
+church like a bear to the stake. I had some little apprehensions about
+me, too, lest my new spouse, who, by the way, I had not the least
+affection for, should be skillful enough to challenge me on another
+account, upon our first coming to bed together. But whether he did it
+with design or not, I know not, but his elder brother took care to make
+him very much fuddled before he went to bed, so that I had the
+satisfaction of a drunken bedfellow the first night. How he did it I
+know not, but I concluded that he certainly contrived it, that his
+brother might be able to make no judgment of the difference between a
+maid and a married woman; nor did he ever entertain any notions of it,
+or disturb his thoughts about it.
+
+I should go back a little here to where I left off. The elder brother
+having thus managed me, his next business was to manage his mother, and
+he never left till he had brought her to acquiesce and be passive in
+the thing, even without acquainting the father, other than by post
+letters; so that she consented to our marrying privately, and leaving
+her to manage the father afterwards.
+
+Then he cajoled with his brother, and persuaded him what service he had
+done him, and how he had brought his mother to consent, which, though
+true, was not indeed done to serve him, but to serve himself; but thus
+diligently did he cheat him, and had the thanks of a faithful friend
+for shifting off his whore into his brother’s arms for a wife. So
+certainly does interest banish all manner of affection, and so
+naturally do men give up honour and justice, humanity, and even
+Christianity, to secure themselves.
+
+I must now come back to brother Robin, as we always called him, who
+having got his mother’s consent, as above, came big with the news to
+me, and told me the whole story of it, with a sincerity so visible,
+that I must confess it grieved me that I must be the instrument to
+abuse so honest a gentleman. But there was no remedy; he would have me,
+and I was not obliged to tell him that I was his brother’s whore,
+though I had no other way to put him off; so I came gradually into it,
+to his satisfaction, and behold we were married.
+
+Modesty forbids me to reveal the secrets of the marriage-bed, but
+nothing could have happened more suitable to my circumstances than
+that, as above, my husband was so fuddled when he came to bed, that he
+could not remember in the morning whether he had had any conversation
+with me or no, and I was obliged to tell him he had, though in reality
+he had not, that I might be sure he could make to inquiry about
+anything else.
+
+It concerns the story in hand very little to enter into the further
+particulars of the family, or of myself, for the five years that I
+lived with this husband, only to observe that I had two children by
+him, and that at the end of five years he died. He had been really a
+very good husband to me, and we lived very agreeably together; but as
+he had not received much from them, and had in the little time he lived
+acquired no great matters, so my circumstances were not great, nor was
+I much mended by the match. Indeed, I had preserved the elder brother’s
+bonds to me, to pay £500, which he offered me for my consent to marry
+his brother; and this, with what I had saved of the money he formerly
+gave me, about as much more by my husband, left me a widow with about
+£1200 in my pocket.
+
+My two children were, indeed, taken happily off my hands by my
+husband’s father and mother, and that, by the way, was all they got by
+Mrs. Betty.
+
+I confess I was not suitably affected with the loss of my husband, nor
+indeed can I say that I ever loved him as I ought to have done, or as
+was proportionable to the good usage I had from him, for he was a
+tender, kind, good-humoured man as any woman could desire; but his
+brother being so always in my sight, at least while we were in the
+country, was a continual snare to me, and I never was in bed with my
+husband but I wished myself in the arms of his brother; and though his
+brother never offered me the least kindness that way after our
+marriage, but carried it just as a brother ought to do, yet it was
+impossible for me to do so to him; in short, I committed adultery and
+incest with him every day in my desires, which, without doubt, was as
+effectually criminal in the nature of the guilt as if I had actually
+done it.
+
+Before my husband died his elder brother was married, and we, being
+then removed to London, were written to by the old lady to come and be
+at the wedding. My husband went, but I pretended indisposition, and
+that I could not possibly travel, so I stayed behind; for, in short, I
+could not bear the sight of his being given to another woman, though I
+knew I was never to have him myself.
+
+I was now, as above, left loose to the world, and being still young and
+handsome, as everybody said of me, and I assure you I thought myself
+so, and with a tolerable fortune in my pocket, I put no small value
+upon myself. I was courted by several very considerable tradesmen, and
+particularly very warmly by one, a linen-draper, at whose house, after
+my husband’s death, I took a lodging, his sister being my acquaintance.
+Here I had all the liberty and all the opportunity to be gay and appear
+in company that I could desire, my landlord’s sister being one of the
+maddest, gayest things alive, and not so much mistress of her virtue as
+I thought at first she had been. She brought me into a world of wild
+company, and even brought home several persons, such as she liked well
+enough to gratify, to see her pretty widow, so she was pleased to call
+me, and that name I got in a little time in public. Now, as fame and
+fools make an assembly, I was here wonderfully caressed, had abundance
+of admirers, and such as called themselves lovers; but I found not one
+fair proposal among them all. As for their common design, that I
+understood too well to be drawn into any more snares of that kind. The
+case was altered with me: I had money in my pocket, and had nothing to
+say to them. I had been tricked once by that cheat called love, but the
+game was over; I was resolved now to be married or nothing, and to be
+well married or not at all.
+
+I loved the company, indeed, of men of mirth and wit, men of gallantry
+and figure, and was often entertained with such, as I was also with
+others; but I found by just observation, that the brightest men came
+upon the dullest errand—that is to say, the dullest as to what I aimed
+at. On the other hand, those who came with the best proposals were the
+dullest and most disagreeable part of the world. I was not averse to a
+tradesman, but then I would have a tradesman, forsooth, that was
+something of a gentleman too; that when my husband had a mind to carry
+me to the court, or to the play, he might become a sword, and look as
+like a gentleman as another man; and not be one that had the mark of
+his apron-strings upon his coat, or the mark of his hat upon his
+periwig; that should look as if he was set on to his sword, when his
+sword was put on to him, and that carried his trade in his countenance.
+
+Well, at last I found this amphibious creature, this land-water thing
+called a gentleman-tradesman; and as a just plague upon my folly, I was
+catched in the very snare which, as I might say, I laid for myself. I
+said for myself, for I was not trepanned, I confess, but I betrayed
+myself.
+
+This was a draper, too, for though my comrade would have brought me to
+a bargain with her brother, yet when it came to the point, it was, it
+seems, for a mistress, not a wife; and I kept true to this notion, that
+a woman should never be kept for a mistress that had money to keep
+herself.
+
+Thus my pride, not my principle, my money, not my virtue, kept me
+honest; though, as it proved, I found I had much better have been sold
+by my she-comrade to her brother, than have sold myself as I did to a
+tradesman that was rake, gentleman, shopkeeper, and beggar, all
+together.
+
+But I was hurried on (by my fancy to a gentleman) to ruin myself in the
+grossest manner that every woman did; for my new husband coming to a
+lump of money at once, fell into such a profusion of expense, that all
+I had, and all he had before, if he had anything worth mentioning,
+would not have held it out above one year.
+
+He was very fond of me for about a quarter of a year, and what I got by
+that was, that I had the pleasure of seeing a great deal of my money
+spent upon myself, and, as I may say, had some of the spending it too.
+“Come, my dear,” says he to me one day, “shall we go and take a turn
+into the country for about a week?” “Ay, my dear,” says I, “whither
+would you go?” “I care not whither,” says he, “but I have a mind to
+look like quality for a week. We’ll go to Oxford,” says he. “How,” says
+I, “shall we go? I am no horsewoman, and ’tis too far for a coach.”
+“Too far!” says he; “no place is too far for a coach-and-six. If I
+carry you out, you shall travel like a duchess.” “Hum,” says I, “my
+dear, ’tis a frolic; but if you have a mind to it, I don’t care.” Well,
+the time was appointed, we had a rich coach, very good horses, a
+coachman, postillion, and two footmen in very good liveries; a
+gentleman on horseback, and a page with a feather in his hat upon
+another horse. The servants all called him my lord, and the
+inn-keepers, you may be sure, did the like, and I was her honour the
+Countess, and thus we traveled to Oxford, and a very pleasant journey
+we had; for, give him his due, not a beggar alive knew better how to be
+a lord than my husband. We saw all the rarities at Oxford, talked with
+two or three Fellows of colleges about putting out a young nephew, that
+was left to his lordship’s care, to the University, and of their being
+his tutors. We diverted ourselves with bantering several other poor
+scholars, with hopes of being at least his lordship’s chaplains and
+putting on a scarf; and thus having lived like quality indeed, as to
+expense, we went away for Northampton, and, in a word, in about twelve
+days’ ramble came home again, to the tune of about £93 expense.
+
+Vanity is the perfection of a fop. My husband had this excellence, that
+he valued nothing of expense; and as his history, you may be sure, has
+very little weight in it, ’tis enough to tell you that in about two
+years and a quarter he broke, and was not so happy to get over into the
+Mint, but got into a sponging-house, being arrested in an action too
+heavy from him to give bail to, so he sent for me to come to him.
+
+It was no surprise to me, for I had foreseen some time that all was
+going to wreck, and had been taking care to reserve something if I
+could, though it was not much, for myself. But when he sent for me, he
+behaved much better than I expected, and told me plainly he had played
+the fool, and suffered himself to be surprised, which he might have
+prevented; that now he foresaw he could not stand it, and therefore he
+would have me go home, and in the night take away everything I had in
+the house of any value, and secure it; and after that, he told me that
+if I could get away one hundred or two hundred pounds in goods out of
+the shop, I should do it; “only,” says he, “let me know nothing of it,
+neither what you take nor whither you carry it; for as for me,” says
+he, “I am resolved to get out of this house and be gone; and if you
+never hear of me more, my dear,” says he, “I wish you well; I am only
+sorry for the injury I have done you.” He said some very handsome
+things to me indeed at parting; for I told you he was a gentleman, and
+that was all the benefit I had of his being so; that he used me very
+handsomely and with good manners upon all occasions, even to the last,
+only spent all I had, and left me to rob the creditors for something to
+subsist on.
+
+However, I did as he bade me, that you may be sure; and having thus
+taken my leave of him, I never saw him more, for he found means to
+break out of the bailiff’s house that night or the next, and go over
+into France, and for the rest of the creditors scrambled for it as well
+as they could. How, I knew not, for I could come at no knowledge of
+anything, more than this, that he came home about three o’clock in the
+morning, caused the rest of his goods to be removed into the Mint, and
+the shop to be shut up; and having raised what money he could get
+together, he got over, as I said, to France, from whence I had one or
+two letters from him, and no more. I did not see him when he came home,
+for he having given me such instructions as above, and I having made
+the best of my time, I had no more business back again at the house,
+not knowing but I might have been stopped there by the creditors; for a
+commission of bankrupt being soon after issued, they might have stopped
+me by orders from the commissioners. But my husband, having so
+dexterously got out of the bailiff’s house by letting himself down in a
+most desperate manner from almost the top of the house to the top of
+another building, and leaping from thence, which was almost two
+storeys, and which was enough indeed to have broken his neck, he came
+home and got away his goods before the creditors could come to seize;
+that is to say, before they could get out the commission, and be ready
+to send their officers to take possession.
+
+My husband was so civil to me, for still I say he was much of a
+gentleman, that in the first letter he wrote me from France, he let me
+know where he had pawned twenty pieces of fine holland for £30, which
+were really worth £90, and enclosed me the token and an order for the
+taking them up, paying the money, which I did, and made in time above
+£100 of them, having leisure to cut them and sell them, some and some,
+to private families, as opportunity offered.
+
+However, with all this, and all that I had secured before, I found,
+upon casting things up, my case was very much altered, any my fortune
+much lessened; for, including the hollands and a parcel of fine
+muslins, which I carried off before, and some plate, and other things,
+I found I could hardly muster up £500; and my condition was very odd,
+for though I had no child (I had had one by my gentleman draper, but it
+was buried), yet I was a widow bewitched; I had a husband and no
+husband, and I could not pretend to marry again, though I knew well
+enough my husband would never see England any more, if he lived fifty
+years. Thus, I say, I was limited from marriage, what offer might
+soever be made me; and I had not one friend to advise with in the
+condition I was in, least not one I durst trust the secret of my
+circumstances to, for if the commissioners were to have been informed
+where I was, I should have been fetched up and examined upon oath, and
+all I have saved be taken away from me.
+
+Upon these apprehensions, the first thing I did was to go quite out of
+my knowledge, and go by another name. This I did effectually, for I
+went into the Mint too, took lodgings in a very private place, dressed
+up in the habit of a widow, and called myself Mrs. Flanders.
+
+Here, however, I concealed myself, and though my new acquaintances knew
+nothing of me, yet I soon got a great deal of company about me; and
+whether it be that women are scarce among the sorts of people that
+generally are to be found there, or that some consolations in the
+miseries of the place are more requisite than on other occasions, I
+soon found an agreeable woman was exceedingly valuable among the sons
+of affliction there, and that those that wanted money to pay half a
+crown on the pound to their creditors, and that run in debt at the sign
+of the Bull for their dinners, would yet find money for a supper, if
+they liked the woman.
+
+However, I kept myself safe yet, though I began, like my Lord
+Rochester’s mistress, that loved his company, but would not admit him
+farther, to have the scandal of a whore, without the joy; and upon this
+score, tired with the place, and indeed with the company too, I began
+to think of removing.
+
+It was indeed a subject of strange reflection to me to see men who were
+overwhelmed in perplexed circumstances, who were reduced some degrees
+below being ruined, whose families were objects of their own terror and
+other people’s charity, yet while a penny lasted, nay, even beyond it,
+endeavouring to drown themselves, labouring to forget former things,
+which now it was the proper time to remember, making more work for
+repentance, and sinning on, as a remedy for sin past.
+
+But it is none of my talent to preach; these men were too wicked, even
+for me. There was something horrid and absurd in their way of sinning,
+for it was all a force even upon themselves; they did not only act
+against conscience, but against nature; they put a rape upon their
+temper to drown the reflections, which their circumstances continually
+gave them; and nothing was more easy than to see how sighs would
+interrupt their songs, and paleness and anguish sit upon their brows,
+in spite of the forced smiles they put on; nay, sometimes it would
+break out at their very mouths when they had parted with their money
+for a lewd treat or a wicked embrace. I have heard them, turning about,
+fetch a deep sigh, and cry, “What a dog am I! Well, Betty, my dear,
+I’ll drink thy health, though”; meaning the honest wife, that perhaps
+had not a half-crown for herself and three or four children. The next
+morning they are at their penitentials again; and perhaps the poor
+weeping wife comes over to him, either brings him some account of what
+his creditors are doing, and how she and the children are turned out of
+doors, or some other dreadful news; and this adds to his
+self-reproaches; but when he has thought and pored on it till he is
+almost mad, having no principles to support him, nothing within him or
+above him to comfort him, but finding it all darkness on every side, he
+flies to the same relief again, viz. to drink it away, debauch it away,
+and falling into company of men in just the same condition with
+himself, he repeats the crime, and thus he goes every day one step
+onward of his way to destruction.
+
+I was not wicked enough for such fellows as these yet. On the contrary,
+I began to consider here very seriously what I had to do; how things
+stood with me, and what course I ought to take. I knew I had no
+friends, no, not one friend or relation in the world; and that little I
+had left apparently wasted, which when it was gone, I saw nothing but
+misery and starving was before me. Upon these considerations, I say,
+and filled with horror at the place I was in, and the dreadful objects
+which I had always before me, I resolved to be gone.
+
+I had made an acquaintance with a very sober, good sort of a woman, who
+was a widow too, like me, but in better circumstances. Her husband had
+been a captain of a merchant ship, and having had the misfortune to be
+cast away coming home on a voyage from the West Indies, which would
+have been very profitable if he had come safe, was so reduced by the
+loss, that though he had saved his life then, it broke his heart, and
+killed him afterwards; and his widow, being pursued by the creditors,
+was forced to take shelter in the Mint. She soon made things up with
+the help of friends, and was at liberty again; and finding that I
+rather was there to be concealed, than by any particular prosecutions
+and finding also that I agreed with her, or rather she with me, in a
+just abhorrence of the place and of the company, she invited to go home
+with her till I could put myself in some posture of settling in the
+world to my mind; withal telling me, that it was ten to one but some
+good captain of a ship might take a fancy to me, and court me, in that
+part of the town where she lived.
+
+I accepted her offer, and was with her half a year, and should have
+been longer, but in that interval what she proposed to me happened to
+herself, and she married very much to her advantage. But whose fortune
+soever was upon the increase, mine seemed to be upon the wane, and I
+found nothing present, except two or three boatswains, or such fellows,
+but as for the commanders, they were generally of two sorts: 1. Such
+as, having good business, that is to say, a good ship, resolved not to
+marry but with advantage, that is, with a good fortune; 2. Such as,
+being out of employ, wanted a wife to help them to a ship; I mean (1) a
+wife who, having some money, could enable them to hold, as they call
+it, a good part of a ship themselves, so to encourage owners to come
+in; or (2) a wife who, if she had not money, had friends who were
+concerned in shipping, and so could help to put the young man into a
+good ship, which to them is as good as a portion; and neither of these
+was my case, so I looked like one that was to lie on hand.
+
+This knowledge I soon learned by experience, viz. that the state of
+things was altered as to matrimony, and that I was not to expect at
+London what I had found in the country: that marriages were here the
+consequences of politic schemes for forming interests, and carrying on
+business, and that Love had no share, or but very little, in the
+matter.
+
+That as my sister-in-law at Colchester had said, beauty, wit, manners,
+sense, good humour, good behaviour, education, virtue, piety, or any
+other qualification, whether of body or mind, had no power to
+recommend; that money only made a woman agreeable; that men chose
+mistresses indeed by the gust of their affection, and it was requisite
+to a whore to be handsome, well-shaped, have a good mien and a graceful
+behaviour; but that for a wife, no deformity would shock the fancy, no
+ill qualities the judgment; the money was the thing; the portion was
+neither crooked nor monstrous, but the money was always agreeable,
+whatever the wife was.
+
+On the other hand, as the market ran very unhappily on the men’s side,
+I found the women had lost the privilege of saying No; that it was a
+favour now for a woman to have the Question asked, and if any young
+lady had so much arrogance as to counterfeit a negative, she never had
+the opportunity given her of denying twice, much less of recovering
+that false step, and accepting what she had but seemed to decline. The
+men had such choice everywhere, that the case of the women was very
+unhappy; for they seemed to ply at every door, and if the man was by
+great chance refused at one house, he was sure to be received at the
+next.
+
+Besides this, I observed that the men made no scruple to set themselves
+out, and to go a-fortunehunting, as they call it, when they had really
+no fortune themselves to demand it, or merit to deserve it; and that
+they carried it so high, that a woman was scarce allowed to inquire
+after the character or estate of the person that pretended to her. This
+I had an example of, in a young lady in the next house to me, and with
+whom I had contracted an intimacy; she was courted by a young captain,
+and though she had near £2000 to her fortune, she did but inquire of
+some of his neighbours about his character, his morals, or substance,
+and he took occasion at the next visit to let her know, truly, that he
+took it very ill, and that he should not give her the trouble of his
+visits any more. I heard of it, and I had begun my acquaintance with
+her, I went to see her upon it. She entered into a close conversation
+with me about it, and unbosomed herself very freely. I perceived
+presently that though she thought herself very ill used, yet she had no
+power to resent it, and was exceedingly piqued that she had lost him,
+and particularly that another of less fortune had gained him.
+
+I fortified her mind against such a meanness, as I called it; I told
+her, that as low as I was in the world, I would have despised a man
+that should think I ought to take him upon his own recommendation only,
+without having the liberty to inform myself of his fortune and of his
+character; also I told her, that as she had a good fortune, she had no
+need to stoop to the disaster of the time; that it was enough that the
+men could insult us that had but little money to recommend us, but if
+she suffered such an affront to pass upon her without resenting it, she
+would be rendered low-prized upon all occasions, and would be the
+contempt of all the women in that part of the town; that a woman can
+never want an opportunity to be revenged of a man that has used her
+ill, and that there were ways enough to humble such a fellow as that,
+or else certainly women were the most unhappy creatures in the world.
+
+I found she was very well pleased with the discourse, and she told me
+seriously that she would be very glad to make him sensible of her just
+resentment, and either to bring him on again, or have the satisfaction
+of her revenge being as public as possible.
+
+I told her, that if she would take my advice, I would tell her how she
+should obtain her wishes in both these things; and that I would engage
+to bring the man to her door again, and make him beg to be let in. She
+smiled at that, and plainly let me see, that if he came to her door,
+her resentment was not so great as to give her leave to let him stand
+long there.
+
+However, she listened very willingly to my offer of advice; so I told
+her that the first thing she ought to do was a piece of justice to
+herself, namely, that whereas she had been told by several people that
+he had reported among the ladies that he had left her, and pretended to
+give the advantage of the negative to himself, she should take care to
+have it well spread among the women—which she could not fail of an
+opportunity to do in a neighbourhood so addicted to family news as that
+she live in was—that she had inquired into his circumstances, and found
+he was not the man as to estate he pretended to be. “Let them be told,
+madam,” said I, “that you had been well informed that he was not the
+man that you expected, and that you thought it was not safe to meddle
+with him; that you heard he was of an ill temper, and that he boasted
+how he had used the women ill upon many occasions, and that
+particularly he was debauched in his morals”, etc. The last of which,
+indeed, had some truth in it; but at the same time I did not find that
+she seemed to like him much the worse for that part.
+
+As I had put this into her head, she came most readily into it.
+Immediately she went to work to find instruments, and she had very
+little difficulty in the search, for telling her story in general to a
+couple of gossips in the neighbourhood, it was the chat of the
+tea-table all over that part of the town, and I met with it wherever I
+visited; also, as it was known that I was acquainted with the young
+lady herself, my opinion was asked very often, and I confirmed it with
+all the necessary aggravations, and set out his character in the
+blackest colours; but then as a piece of secret intelligence, I added,
+as what the other gossips knew nothing of, viz. that I had heard he was
+in very bad circumstances; that he was under a necessity of a fortune
+to support his interest with the owners of the ship he commanded; that
+his own part was not paid for, and if it was not paid quickly, his
+owners would put him out of the ship, and his chief mate was likely to
+command it, who offered to buy that part which the captain had promised
+to take.
+
+I added, for I confess I was heartily piqued at the rogue, as I called
+him, that I had heard a rumour, too, that he had a wife alive at
+Plymouth, and another in the West Indies, a thing which they all knew
+was not very uncommon for such kind of gentlemen.
+
+This worked as we both desire it, for presently the young lady next
+door, who had a father and mother that governed both her and her
+fortune, was shut up, and her father forbid him the house. Also in one
+place more where he went, the woman had the courage, however strange it
+was, to say No; and he could try nowhere but he was reproached with his
+pride, and that he pretended not to give the women leave to inquire
+into his character, and the like.
+
+Well, by this time he began to be sensible of his mistake; and having
+alarmed all the women on that side of the water, he went over to
+Ratcliff, and got access to some of the ladies there; but though the
+young women there too were, according to the fate of the day, pretty
+willing to be asked, yet such was his ill-luck, that his character
+followed him over the water and his good name was much the same there
+as it was on our side; so that though he might have had wives enough,
+yet it did not happen among the women that had good fortunes, which was
+what he wanted.
+
+But this was not all; she very ingeniously managed another thing
+herself, for she got a young gentleman, who as a relation, and was
+indeed a married man, to come and visit her two or three times a week
+in a very fine chariot and good liveries, and her two agents, and I
+also, presently spread a report all over, that this gentleman came to
+court her; that he was a gentleman of a £1000 a year, and that he was
+fallen in love with her, and that she was going to her aunt’s in the
+city, because it was inconvenient for the gentleman to come to her with
+his coach in Redriff, the streets being so narrow and difficult.
+
+This took immediately. The captain was laughed at in all companies, and
+was ready to hang himself. He tried all the ways possible to come at
+her again, and wrote the most passionate letters to her in the world,
+excusing his former rashness; and in short, by great application,
+obtained leave to wait on her again, as he said, to clear his
+reputation.
+
+At this meeting she had her full revenge of him; for she told him she
+wondered what he took her to be, that she should admit any man to a
+treaty of so much consequence as that to marriage, without inquiring
+very well into his circumstances; that if he thought she was to be
+huffed into wedlock, and that she was in the same circumstances which
+her neighbours might be in, viz. to take up with the first good
+Christian that came, he was mistaken; that, in a word, his character
+was really bad, or he was very ill beholden to his neighbours; and that
+unless he could clear up some points, in which she had justly been
+prejudiced, she had no more to say to him, but to do herself justice,
+and give him the satisfaction of knowing that she was not afraid to say
+No, either to him or any man else.
+
+With that she told him what she had heard, or rather raised herself by
+my means, of his character; his not having paid for the part he
+pretended to own of the ship he commanded; of the resolution of his
+owners to put him out of the command, and to put his mate in his stead;
+and of the scandal raised on his morals; his having been reproached
+with such-and-such women, and having a wife at Plymouth and in the West
+Indies, and the like; and she asked him whether he could deny that she
+had good reason, if these things were not cleared up, to refuse him,
+and in the meantime to insist upon having satisfaction in points to
+significant as they were.
+
+He was so confounded at her discourse that he could not answer a word,
+and she almost began to believe that all was true, by his disorder,
+though at the same time she knew that she had been the raiser of all
+those reports herself.
+
+After some time he recovered himself a little, and from that time
+became the most humble, the most modest, and most importunate man alive
+in his courtship.
+
+She carried her jest on a great way. She asked him, if he thought she
+was so at her last shift that she could or ought to bear such
+treatment, and if he did not see that she did not want those who
+thought it worth their while to come farther to her than he did;
+meaning the gentleman whom she had brought to visit her by way of sham.
+
+She brought him by these tricks to submit to all possible measures to
+satisfy her, as well of his circumstances as of his behaviour. He
+brought her undeniable evidence of his having paid for his part of the
+ship; he brought her certificates from his owners, that the report of
+their intending to remove him from the command of the ship and put his
+chief mate in was false and groundless; in short, he was quite the
+reverse of what he was before.
+
+Thus I convinced her, that if the men made their advantage of our sex
+in the affair of marriage, upon the supposition of there being such
+choice to be had, and of the women being so easy, it was only owing to
+this, that the women wanted courage to maintain their ground and to
+play their part; and that, according to my Lord Rochester,
+
+“A woman’s ne’er so ruined but she can
+Revenge herself on her undoer, Man.”
+
+
+After these things this young lady played her part so well, that though
+she resolved to have him, and that indeed having him was the main bent
+of her design, yet she made his obtaining her be to him the most
+difficult thing in the world; and this she did, not by a haughty
+reserved carriage, but by a just policy, turning the tables upon him,
+and playing back upon him his own game; for as he pretended, by a kind
+of lofty carriage, to place himself above the occasion of a character,
+and to make inquiring into his character a kind of an affront to him,
+she broke with him upon that subject, and at the same time that she
+make him submit to all possible inquiry after his affairs, she
+apparently shut the door against his looking into her own.
+
+It was enough to him to obtain her for a wife. As to what she had, she
+told him plainly, that as he knew her circumstances, it was but just
+she should know his; and though at the same time he had only known her
+circumstances by common fame, yet he had made so many protestations of
+his passion for her, that he could ask no more but her hand to his
+grand request, and the like ramble according to the custom of lovers.
+In short, he left himself no room to ask any more questions about her
+estate, and she took the advantage of it like a prudent woman, for she
+placed part of her fortune so in trustees, without letting him know
+anything of it, that it was quite out of his reach, and made him be
+very well content with the rest.
+
+It is true she was pretty well besides, that is to say, she had about
+£1400 in money, which she gave him; and the other, after some time, she
+brought to light as a perquisite to herself, which he was to accept as
+a mighty favour, seeing though it was not to be his, it might ease him
+in the article of her particular expenses; and I must add, that by this
+conduct the gentleman himself became not only the more humble in his
+applications to her to obtain her, but also was much the more an
+obliging husband to her when he had her. I cannot but remind the ladies
+here how much they place themselves below the common station of a wife,
+which, if I may be allowed not to be partial, is low enough already; I
+say, they place themselves below their common station, and prepare
+their own mortifications, by their submitting so to be insulted by the
+men beforehand, which I confess I see no necessity of.
+
+This relation may serve, therefore, to let the ladies see that the
+advantage is not so much on the other side as the men think it is; and
+though it may be true that the men have but too much choice among us,
+and that some women may be found who will dishonour themselves, be
+cheap, and easy to come at, and will scarce wait to be asked, yet if
+they will have women, as I may say, worth having, they may find them as
+uncomeatable as ever and that those that are otherwise are a sort of
+people that have such deficiencies, when had, as rather recommend the
+ladies that are difficult than encourage the men to go on with their
+easy courtship, and expect wives equally valuable that will come at
+first call.
+
+Nothing is more certain than that the ladies always gain of the men by
+keeping their ground, and letting their pretended lovers see they can
+resent being slighted, and that they are not afraid of saying No. They,
+I observe, insult us mightily with telling us of the number of women;
+that the wars, and the sea, and trade, and other incidents have carried
+the men so much away, that there is no proportion between the numbers
+of the sexes, and therefore the women have the disadvantage; but I am
+far from granting that the number of women is so great, or the number
+of men so small; but if they will have me tell the truth, the
+disadvantage of the women is a terrible scandal upon the men, and it
+lies here, and here only; namely, that the age is so wicked, and the
+sex so debauched, that, in short, the number of such men as an honest
+woman ought to meddle with is small indeed, and it is but here and
+there that a man is to be found who is fit for a woman to venture upon.
+
+But the consequence even of that too amounts to no more than this, that
+women ought to be the more nice; for how do we know the just character
+of the man that makes the offer? To say that the woman should be the
+more easy on this occasion, is to say we should be the forwarder to
+venture because of the greatness of the danger, which, in my way of
+reasoning, is very absurd.
+
+On the contrary, the women have ten thousand times the more reason to
+be wary and backward, by how much the hazard of being betrayed is the
+greater; and would the ladies consider this, and act the wary part,
+they would discover every cheat that offered; for, in short, the lives
+of very few men nowadays will bear a character; and if the ladies do
+but make a little inquiry, they will soon be able to distinguish the
+men and deliver themselves. As for women that do not think their own
+safety worth their thought, that, impatient of their perfect state,
+resolve, as they call it, to take the first good Christian that comes,
+that run into matrimony as a horse rushes into the battle, I can say
+nothing to them but this, that they are a sort of ladies that are to be
+prayed for among the rest of distempered people, and to me they look
+like people that venture their whole estates in a lottery where there
+is a hundred thousand blanks to one prize.
+
+No man of common-sense will value a woman the less for not giving up
+herself at the first attack, or for accepting his proposal without
+inquiring into his person or character; on the contrary, he must think
+her the weakest of all creatures in the world, as the rate of men now
+goes. In short, he must have a very contemptible opinion of her
+capacities, nay, every of her understanding, that, having but one case
+of her life, shall call that life away at once, and make matrimony,
+like death, be a leap in the dark.
+
+I would fain have the conduct of my sex a little regulated in this
+particular, which is the thing in which, of all the parts of life, I
+think at this time we suffer most in; ’tis nothing but lack of courage,
+the fear of not being married at all, and of that frightful state of
+life called an old maid, of which I have a story to tell by itself.
+This, I say, is the woman’s snare; but would the ladies once but get
+above that fear and manage rightly, they would more certainly avoid it
+by standing their ground, in a case so absolutely necessary to their
+felicity, that by exposing themselves as they do; and if they did not
+marry so soon as they may do otherwise, they would make themselves
+amends by marrying safer. She is always married too soon who gets a bad
+husband, and she is never married too late who gets a good one; in a
+word, there is no woman, deformity or lost reputation excepted, but if
+she manages well, may be married safely one time or other; but if she
+precipitates herself, it is ten thousand to one but she is undone.
+
+But I come now to my own case, in which there was at this time no
+little nicety. The circumstances I was in made the offer of a good
+husband the most necessary thing in the world to me, but I found soon
+that to be made cheap and easy was not the way. It soon began to be
+found that the widow had no fortune, and to say this was to say all
+that was ill of me, for I began to be dropped in all the discourses of
+matrimony. Being well-bred, handsome, witty, modest, and agreeable; all
+which I had allowed to my character—whether justly or no is not the
+purpose—I say, all these would not do without the dross, which way now
+become more valuable than virtue itself. In short, the widow, they
+said, had no money.
+
+I resolved, therefore, as to the state of my present circumstances,
+that it was absolutely necessary to change my station, and make a new
+appearance in some other place where I was not known, and even to pass
+by another name if I found occasion.
+
+I communicated my thoughts to my intimate friend, the captain’s lady,
+whom I had so faithfully served in her case with the captain, and who
+was as ready to serve me in the same kind as I could desire. I made no
+scruple to lay my circumstances open to her; my stock was but low, for
+I had made but about £540 at the close of my last affair, and I had
+wasted some of that; however, I had about £460 left, a great many very
+rich clothes, a gold watch, and some jewels, though of no extraordinary
+value, and about £30 or £40 left in linen not disposed of.
+
+My dear and faithful friend, the captain’s wife, was so sensible of the
+service I had done her in the affair above, that she was not only a
+steady friend to me, but, knowing my circumstances, she frequently made
+me presents as money came into her hands, such as fully amounted to a
+maintenance, so that I spent none of my own; and at last she made this
+unhappy proposal to me, viz. that as we had observed, as above, how the
+men made no scruple to set themselves out as persons meriting a woman
+of fortune, when they had really no fortune of their own, it was but
+just to deal with them in their own way and, if it was possible, to
+deceive the deceiver.
+
+The captain’s lady, in short, put this project into my head, and told
+me if I would be ruled by her I should certainly get a husband of
+fortune, without leaving him any room to reproach me with want of my
+own. I told her, as I had reason to do, that I would give up myself
+wholly to her directions, and that I would have neither tongue to speak
+nor feet to step in that affair but as she should direct me, depending
+that she would extricate me out of every difficulty she brought me
+into, which she said she would answer for.
+
+The first step she put me upon was to call her cousin, and go to a
+relation’s house of hers in the country, where she directed me, and
+where she brought her husband to visit me; and calling me cousin, she
+worked matters so about, that her husband and she together invited me
+most passionately to come to town and be with them, for they now live
+in a quite different place from where they were before. In the next
+place, she tells her husband that I had at least £1500 fortune, and
+that after some of my relations I was like to have a great deal more.
+
+It was enough to tell her husband this; there needed nothing on my
+side. I was but to sit still and wait the event, for it presently went
+all over the neighbourhood that the young widow at Captain ——’s was a
+fortune, that she had at least £1500, and perhaps a great deal more,
+and that the captain said so; and if the captain was asked at any time
+about me, he made no scruple to affirm it, though he knew not one word
+of the matter, other than that his wife had told him so; and in this he
+thought no harm, for he really believed it to be so, because he had it
+from his wife: so slender a foundation will those fellows build upon,
+if they do but think there is a fortune in the game. With the
+reputation of this fortune, I presently found myself blessed with
+admirers enough, and that I had my choice of men, as scarce as they
+said they were, which, by the way, confirms what I was saying before.
+This being my case, I, who had a subtle game to play, had nothing now
+to do but to single out from them all the properest man that might be
+for my purpose; that is to say, the man who was most likely to depend
+upon the hearsay of a fortune, and not inquire too far into the
+particulars; and unless I did this I did nothing, for my case would not
+bear much inquiry.
+
+I picked out my man without much difficulty, by the judgment I made of
+his way of courting me. I had let him run on with his protestations and
+oaths that he loved me above all the world; that if I would make him
+happy, that was enough; all which I knew was upon supposition, nay, it
+was upon a full satisfaction, that I was very rich, though I never told
+him a word of it myself.
+
+This was my man; but I was to try him to the bottom, and indeed in that
+consisted my safety; for if he baulked, I knew I was undone, as surely
+as he was undone if he took me; and if I did not make some scruple
+about his fortune, it was the way to lead him to raise some about mine;
+and first, therefore, I pretended on all occasions to doubt his
+sincerity, and told him, perhaps he only courted me for my fortune. He
+stopped my mouth in that part with the thunder of his protestations, as
+above, but still I pretended to doubt.
+
+One morning he pulls off his diamond ring, and writes upon the glass of
+the sash in my chamber this line—
+
+“You I love, and you alone.”
+
+
+I read it, and asked him to lend me his ring, with which I wrote under
+it, thus—
+
+“And so in love says every one.”
+
+
+He takes his ring again, and writes another line thus—
+
+“Virtue alone is an estate.”
+
+
+I borrowed it again, and I wrote under it—
+
+“But money’s virtue, gold is fate.”
+
+
+He coloured as red as fire to see me turn so quick upon him, and in a
+kind of a rage told me he would conquer me, and writes again thus—
+
+“I scorn your gold, and yet I love.”
+
+
+I ventured all upon the last cast of poetry, as you’ll see, for I wrote
+boldly under his last—
+
+“I’m poor: let’s see how kind you’ll prove.”
+
+
+This was a sad truth to me; whether he believed me or no, I could not
+tell; I supposed then that he did not. However, he flew to me, took me
+in his arms, and, kissing me very eagerly, and with the greatest
+passion imaginable, he held me fast till he called for a pen and ink,
+and then told me he could not wait the tedious writing on the glass,
+but, pulling out a piece of paper, he began and wrote again—
+
+“Be mine, with all your poverty.”
+
+
+I took his pen, and followed him immediately, thus—
+
+“Yet secretly you hope I lie.”
+
+
+He told me that was unkind, because it was not just, and that I put him
+upon contradicting me, which did not consist with good manners, any
+more than with his affection; and therefore, since I had insensibly
+drawn him into this poetical scribble, he begged I would not oblige him
+to break it off; so he writes again—
+
+“Let love alone be our debate.”
+
+
+I wrote again—
+
+“She loves enough that does not hate.”
+
+
+
+This he took for a favour, and so laid down the cudgels, that is to
+say, the pen; I say, he took if for a favour, and a mighty one it was,
+if he had known all. However, he took it as I meant it, that is, to let
+him think I was inclined to go on with him, as indeed I had all the
+reason in the world to do, for he was the best-humoured, merry sort of
+a fellow that I ever met with, and I often reflected on myself how
+doubly criminal it was to deceive such a man; but that necessity, which
+pressed me to a settlement suitable to my condition, was my authority
+for it; and certainly his affection to me, and the goodness of his
+temper, however they might argue against using him ill, yet they
+strongly argued to me that he would better take the disappointment than
+some fiery-tempered wretch, who might have nothing to recommend him but
+those passions which would serve only to make a woman miserable all her
+days.
+
+Besides, though I jested with him (as he supposed it) so often about my
+poverty, yet, when he found it to be true, he had foreclosed all manner
+of objection, seeing, whether he was in jest or in earnest, he had
+declared he took me without any regard to my portion, and, whether I
+was in jest or in earnest, I had declared myself to be very poor; so
+that, in a word, I had him fast both ways; and though he might say
+afterwards he was cheated, yet he could never say that I had cheated
+him.
+
+He pursued me close after this, and as I saw there was no need to fear
+losing him, I played the indifferent part with him longer than prudence
+might otherwise have dictated to me. But I considered how much this
+caution and indifference would give me the advantage over him, when I
+should come to be under the necessity of owning my own circumstances to
+him; and I managed it the more warily, because I found he inferred from
+thence, as indeed he ought to do, that I either had the more money or
+the more judgment, and would not venture at all.
+
+I took the freedom one day, after we had talked pretty close to the
+subject, to tell him that it was true I had received the compliment of
+a lover from him, namely, that he would take me without inquiring into
+my fortune, and I would make him a suitable return in this, viz. that I
+would make as little inquiry into his as consisted with reason, but I
+hoped he would allow me to ask a few questions, which he would answer
+or not as he thought fit; and that I would not be offended if he did
+not answer me at all; one of these questions related to our manner of
+living, and the place where, because I had heard he had a great
+plantation in Virginia, and that he had talked of going to live there,
+and I told him I did not care to be transported.
+
+He began from this discourse to let me voluntarily into all his
+affairs, and to tell me in a frank, open way all his circumstances, by
+which I found he was very well to pass in the world; but that great
+part of his estate consisted of three plantations, which he had in
+Virginia, which brought him in a very good income, generally speaking,
+to the tune of £300, a year, but that if he was to live upon them,
+would bring him in four times as much. “Very well,” thought I; “you
+shall carry me thither as soon as you please, though I won’t tell you
+so beforehand.”
+
+I jested with him extremely about the figure he would make in Virginia;
+but I found he would do anything I desired, though he did not seem glad
+to have me undervalue his plantations, so I turned my tale. I told him
+I had good reason not to go there to live, because if his plantations
+were worth so much there, I had not a fortune suitable to a gentleman
+of £1200 a year, as he said his estate would be.
+
+He replied generously, he did not ask what my fortune was; he had told
+me from the beginning he would not, and he would be as good as his
+word; but whatever it was, he assured me he would never desire me to go
+to Virginia with him, or go thither himself without me, unless I was
+perfectly willing, and made it my choice.
+
+All this, you may be sure, was as I wished, and indeed nothing could
+have happened more perfectly agreeable. I carried it on as far as this
+with a sort of indifferency that he often wondered at, more than at
+first, but which was the only support of his courtship; and I mention
+it the rather to intimate again to the ladies that nothing but want of
+courage for such an indifferency makes our sex so cheap, and prepares
+them to be ill-used as they are; would they venture the loss of a
+pretending fop now and then, who carries it high upon the point of his
+own merit, they would certainly be less slighted, and courted more. Had
+I discovered really and truly what my great fortune was, and that in
+all I had not full £500 when he expected £1500, yet I had hooked him so
+fast, and played him so long, that I was satisfied he would have had me
+in my worst circumstances; and indeed it was less a surprise to him
+when he learned the truth than it would have been, because having not
+the least blame to lay on me, who had carried it with an air of
+indifference to the last, he would not say one word, except that indeed
+he thought it had been more, but that if it had been less he did not
+repent his bargain; only that he should not be able to maintain me so
+well as he intended.
+
+In short, we were married, and very happily married on my side, I
+assure you, as to the man; for he was the best-humoured man that every
+woman had, but his circumstances were not so good as I imagined, as, on
+the other hand, he had not bettered himself by marrying so much as he
+expected.
+
+When we were married, I was shrewdly put to it to bring him that little
+stock I had, and to let him see it was no more; but there was a
+necessity for it, so I took my opportunity one day when we were alone,
+to enter into a short dialogue with him about it. “My dear,” said I,
+“we have been married a fortnight; is it not time to let you know
+whether you have got a wife with something or with nothing?” “Your own
+time for that, my dear,” says he; “I am satisfied that I have got the
+wife I love; I have not troubled you much,” says he, “with my inquiry
+after it.”
+
+“That’s true,” says I, “but I have a great difficulty upon me about it,
+which I scarce know how to manage.”
+
+“What’s that, my dear?” says he.
+
+“Why,” says I, “’tis a little hard upon me, and ’tis harder upon you. I
+am told that Captain ——” (meaning my friend’s husband) “has told you I
+had a great deal more money than I ever pretended to have, and I am
+sure I never employed him to do so.”
+
+“Well,” says he, “Captain —— may have told me so, but what then? If you
+have not so much, that may lie at his door, but you never told me what
+you had, so I have no reason to blame you if you have nothing at all.”
+
+“That’s is so just,” said I, “and so generous, that it makes my having
+but a little a double affliction to me.”
+
+“The less you have, my dear,” says he, “the worse for us both; but I
+hope your affliction you speak of is not caused for fear I should be
+unkind to you, for want of a portion. No, no, if you have nothing, tell
+me plainly, and at once; I may perhaps tell the captain he has cheated
+me, but I can never say you have cheated me, for did you not give it
+under your hand that you were poor? and so I ought to expect you to
+be.”
+
+“Well,” said I, “my dear, I am glad I have not been concerned in
+deceiving you before marriage. If I deceive you since, ’tis ne’er the
+worse; that I am poor is too true, but not so poor as to have nothing
+neither”; so I pulled out some bank bills, and gave him about £160.
+“There’s something, my dear,” said I, “and not quite all neither.”
+
+I had brought him so near to expecting nothing, by what I had said
+before, that the money, though the sum was small in itself, was doubly
+welcome to him; he owned it was more than he looked for, and that he
+did not question by my discourse to him, but that my fine clothes, gold
+watch, and a diamond ring or two, had been all my fortune.
+
+I let him please himself with that £160 two or three days, and then,
+having been abroad that day, and as if I had been to fetch it, I
+brought him £100 more home in gold, and told him there was a little
+more portion for him; and, in short, in about a week more I brought him
+£180 more, and about £60 in linen, which I made him believe I had been
+obliged to take with the £100 which I gave him in gold, as a
+composition for a debt of £600, being little more than five shillings
+in the pound, and overvalued too.
+
+“And now, my dear,” says I to him, “I am very sorry to tell you, that
+there is all, and that I have given you my whole fortune.” I added,
+that if the person who had my £600 had not abused me, I had been worth
+£1000 to him, but that as it was, I had been faithful to him, and
+reserved nothing to myself, but if it had been more he should have had
+it.
+
+He was so obliged by the manner, and so pleased with the sum, for he
+had been in a terrible fright lest it had been nothing at all, that he
+accepted it very thankfully. And thus I got over the fraud of passing
+for a fortune without money, and cheating a man into marrying me on
+pretence of a fortune; which, by the way, I take to be one of the most
+dangerous steps a woman can take, and in which she runs the most hazard
+of being ill-used afterwards.
+
+My husband, to give him his due, was a man of infinite good nature, but
+he was no fool; and finding his income not suited to the manner of
+living which he had intended, if I had brought him what he expected,
+and being under a disappointment in his return of his plantations in
+Virginia, he discovered many times his inclination of going over to
+Virginia, to live upon his own; and often would be magnifying the way
+of living there, how cheap, how plentiful, how pleasant, and the like.
+
+I began presently to understand this meaning, and I took him up very
+plainly one morning, and told him that I did so; that I found his
+estate turned to no account at this distance, compared to what it would
+do if he lived upon the spot, and that I found he had a mind to go and
+live there; and I added, that I was sensible he had been disappointed
+in a wife, and that finding his expectations not answered that way, I
+could do no less, to make him amends, than tell him that I was very
+willing to go over to Virginia with him and live there.
+
+He said a thousand kind things to me upon the subject of my making such
+a proposal to him. He told me, that however he was disappointed in his
+expectations of a fortune, he was not disappointed in a wife, and that
+I was all to him that a wife could be, and he was more than satisfied
+on the whole when the particulars were put together, but that this
+offer was so kind, that it was more than he could express.
+
+To bring the story short, we agreed to go. He told me that he had a
+very good house there, that it was well furnished, that his mother was
+alive and lived in it, and one sister, which was all the relations he
+had; that as soon as he came there, his mother would remove to another
+house, which was her own for life, and his after her decease; so that I
+should have all the house to myself; and I found all this to be exactly
+as he had said.
+
+To make this part of the story short, we put on board the ship which we
+went in, a large quantity of good furniture for our house, with stores
+of linen and other necessaries, and a good cargo for sale, and away we
+went.
+
+To give an account of the manner of our voyage, which was long and full
+of dangers, is out of my way; I kept no journal, neither did my
+husband. All that I can say is, that after a terrible passage, frighted
+twice with dreadful storms, and once with what was still more terrible,
+I mean a pirate who came on board and took away almost all our
+provisions; and which would have been beyond all to me, they had once
+taken my husband to go along with them, but by entreaties were
+prevailed with to leave him;—I say, after all these terrible things, we
+arrived in York River in Virginia, and coming to our plantation, we
+were received with all the demonstrations of tenderness and affection,
+by my husband’s mother, that were possible to be expressed.
+
+We lived here all together, my mother-in-law, at my entreaty,
+continuing in the house, for she was too kind a mother to be parted
+with; my husband likewise continued the same as at first, and I thought
+myself the happiest creature alive, when an odd and surprising event
+put an end to all that felicity in a moment, and rendered my condition
+the most uncomfortable, if not the most miserable, in the world.
+
+My mother was a mighty cheerful, good-humoured old woman—I may call her
+old woman, for her son was above thirty; I say she was very pleasant,
+good company, and used to entertain me, in particular, with abundance
+of stories to divert me, as well of the country we were in as of the
+people.
+
+Among the rest, she often told me how the greatest part of the
+inhabitants of the colony came thither in very indifferent
+circumstances from England; that, generally speaking, they were of two
+sorts; either, first, such as were brought over by masters of ships to
+be sold as servants. “Such as we call them, my dear,” says she, “but
+they are more properly called slaves.” Or, secondly, such as are
+transported from Newgate and other prisons, after having been found
+guilty of felony and other crimes punishable with death.
+
+“When they come here,” says she, “we make no difference; the planters
+buy them, and they work together in the field till their time is out.
+When ’tis expired,” said she, “they have encouragement given them to
+plant for themselves; for they have a certain number of acres of land
+allotted them by the country, and they go to work to clear and cure the
+land, and then to plant it with tobacco and corn for their own use; and
+as the tradesmen and merchants will trust them with tools and clothes
+and other necessaries, upon the credit of their crop before it is
+grown, so they again plant every year a little more than the year
+before, and so buy whatever they want with the crop that is before
+them.
+
+“Hence, child,” says she, “man a Newgate-bird becomes a great man, and
+we have,” continued she, “several justices of the peace, officers of
+the trained bands, and magistrates of the towns they live in, that have
+been burnt in the hand.”
+
+She was going on with that part of the story, when her own part in it
+interrupted her, and with a great deal of good-humoured confidence she
+told me she was one of the second sort of inhabitants herself; that she
+came away openly, having ventured too far in a particular case, so that
+she was become a criminal. “And here’s the mark of it, child,” says
+she; and, pulling off her glove, “look ye here,” says she, turning up
+the palm of her hand, and showed me a very fine white arm and hand, but
+branded in the inside of the hand, as in such cases it must be.
+
+This story was very moving to me, but my mother, smiling, said, “You
+need not think a thing strange, daughter, for as I told you, some of
+the best men in this country are burnt in the hand, and they are not
+ashamed to own it. There’s Major ——,” says she, “he was an eminent
+pickpocket; there’s Justice Ba——r, was a shoplifter, and both of them
+were burnt in the hand; and I could name you several such as they are.”
+
+We had frequent discourses of this kind, and abundance of instances she
+gave me of the like. After some time, as she was telling some stories
+of one that was transported but a few weeks ago, I began in an intimate
+kind of way to ask her to tell me something of her own story, which she
+did with the utmost plainness and sincerity; how she had fallen into
+very ill company in London in her young days, occasioned by her mother
+sending her frequently to carry victuals and other relief to a
+kinswoman of hers who was a prisoner in Newgate, and who lay in a
+miserable starving condition, was afterwards condemned to be hanged,
+but having got respite by pleading her belly, dies afterwards in the
+prison.
+
+Here my mother-in-law ran out in a long account of the wicked practices
+in that dreadful place, and how it ruined more young people than all
+the town besides. “And child,” says my mother, “perhaps you may know
+little of it, or, it may be, have heard nothing about it; but depend
+upon it,” says she, “we all know here that there are more thieves and
+rogues made by that one prison of Newgate than by all the clubs and
+societies of villains in the nation; ’tis that cursed place,” says my
+mother, “that half peopled this colony.”
+
+Here she went on with her own story so long, and in so particular a
+manner, that I began to be very uneasy; but coming to one particular
+that required telling her name, I thought I should have sunk down in
+the place. She perceived I was out of order, and asked me if I was not
+well, and what ailed me. I told her I was so affected with the
+melancholy story she had told, and the terrible things she had gone
+through, that it had overcome me, and I begged of her to talk no more
+of it. “Why, my dear,” says she very kindly, “what need these things
+trouble you? These passages were long before your time, and they give
+me no trouble at all now; nay, I look back on them with a particular
+satisfaction, as they have been a means to bring me to this place.”
+Then she went on to tell me how she very luckily fell into a good
+family, where, behaving herself well, and her mistress dying, her
+master married her, by whom she had my husband and his sister, and that
+by her diligence and good management after her husband’s death, she had
+improved the plantations to such a degree as they then were, so that
+most of the estate was of her getting, not her husband’s, for she had
+been a widow upwards of sixteen years.
+
+I heard this part of the story with very little attention, because I
+wanted much to retire and give vent to my passions, which I did soon
+after; and let any one judge what must be the anguish of my mind, when
+I came to reflect that this was certainly no more or less than my own
+mother, and I had now had two children, and was big with another by my
+own brother, and lay with him still every night.
+
+I was now the most unhappy of all women in the world. Oh! had the story
+never been told me, all had been well; it had been no crime to have
+lain with my husband, since as to his being my relation I had known
+nothing of it.
+
+I had now such a load on my mind that it kept me perpetually waking; to
+reveal it, which would have been some ease to me, I could not find
+would be to any purpose, and yet to conceal it would be next to
+impossible; nay, I did not doubt but I should talk of it in my sleep,
+and tell my husband of it whether I would or no. If I discovered it,
+the least thing I could expect was to lose my husband, for he was too
+nice and too honest a man to have continued my husband after he had
+known I had been his sister; so that I was perplexed to the last
+degree.
+
+I leave it to any man to judge what difficulties presented to my view.
+I was away from my native country, at a distance prodigious, and the
+return to me unpassable. I lived very well, but in a circumstance
+insufferable in itself. If I had discovered myself to my mother, it
+might be difficult to convince her of the particulars, and I had no way
+to prove them. On the other hand, if she had questioned or doubted me,
+I had been undone, for the bare suggestion would have immediately
+separated me from my husband, without gaining my mother or him, who
+would have been neither a husband nor a brother; so that between the
+surprise on one hand, and the uncertainty on the other, I had been sure
+to be undone.
+
+In the meantime, as I was but too sure of the fact, I lived therefore
+in open avowed incest and whoredom, and all under the appearance of an
+honest wife; and though I was not much touched with the crime of it,
+yet the action had something in it shocking to nature, and made my
+husband, as he thought himself, even nauseous to me.
+
+However, upon the most sedate consideration, I resolved that it was
+absolutely necessary to conceal it all and not make the least discovery
+of it either to mother or husband; and thus I lived with the greatest
+pressure imaginable for three years more, but had no more children.
+
+During this time my mother used to be frequently telling me old stories
+of her former adventures, which, however, were no ways pleasant to me;
+for by it, though she did not tell it me in plain terms, yet I could
+easily understand, joined with what I had heard myself, of my first
+tutors, that in her younger days she had been both whore and thief; but
+I verily believed she had lived to repent sincerely of both, and that
+she was then a very pious, sober, and religious woman.
+
+Well, let her life have been what it would then, it was certain that my
+life was very uneasy to me; for I lived, as I have said, but in the
+worst sort of whoredom, and as I could expect no good of it, so really
+no good issue came of it, and all my seeming prosperity wore off, and
+ended in misery and destruction. It was some time, indeed, before it
+came to this, for, but I know not by what ill fate guided, everything
+went wrong with us afterwards, and that which was worse, my husband
+grew strangely altered, forward, jealous, and unkind, and I was as
+impatient of bearing his carriage, as the carriage was unreasonable and
+unjust. These things proceeded so far, that we came at last to be in
+such ill terms with one another, that I claimed a promise of him, which
+he entered willingly into with me when I consented to come from England
+with him, viz. that if I found the country not to agree with me, or
+that I did not like to live there, I should come away to England again
+when I pleased, giving him a year’s warning to settle his affairs.
+
+I say, I now claimed this promise of him, and I must confess I did it
+not in the most obliging terms that could be in the world neither; but
+I insisted that he treated me ill, that I was remote from my friends,
+and could do myself no justice, and that he was jealous without cause,
+my conversation having been unblamable, and he having no pretense for
+it, and that to remove to England would take away all occasion from
+him.
+
+I insisted so peremptorily upon it, that he could not avoid coming to a
+point, either to keep his word with me or to break it; and this,
+notwithstanding he used all the skill he was master of, and employed
+his mother and other agents to prevail with me to alter my resolutions;
+indeed, the bottom of the thing lay at my heart, and that made all his
+endeavours fruitless, for my heart was alienated from him as a husband.
+I loathed the thoughts of bedding with him, and used a thousand
+pretenses of illness and humour to prevent his touching me, fearing
+nothing more than to be with child by him, which to be sure would have
+prevented, or at least delayed, my going over to England.
+
+However, at last I put him so out of humour, that he took up a rash and
+fatal resolution; in short, I should not go to England; and though he
+had promised me, yet it was an unreasonable thing for me to desire it;
+that it would be ruinous to his affairs, would unhinge his whole
+family, and be next to an undoing him in the world; that therefore I
+ought not to desire it of him, and that no wife in the world that
+valued her family and her husband’s prosperity would insist upon such a
+thing.
+
+This plunged me again, for when I considered the thing calmly, and took
+my husband as he really was, a diligent, careful man in the main work
+of laying up an estate for his children, and that he knew nothing of
+the dreadful circumstances that he was in, I could not but confess to
+myself that my proposal was very unreasonable, and what no wife that
+had the good of her family at heart would have desired.
+
+But my discontents were of another nature; I looked upon him no longer
+as a husband, but as a near relation, the son of my own mother, and I
+resolved somehow or other to be clear of him, but which way I did not
+know, nor did it seem possible.
+
+It is said by the ill-natured world, of our sex, that if we are set on
+a thing, it is impossible to turn us from our resolutions; in short, I
+never ceased poring upon the means to bring to pass my voyage, and came
+that length with my husband at last, as to propose going without him.
+This provoked him to the last degree, and he called me not only an
+unkind wife, but an unnatural mother, and asked me how I could
+entertain such a thought without horror, as that of leaving my two
+children (for one was dead) without a mother, and to be brought up by
+strangers, and never to see them more. It was true, had things been
+right, I should not have done it, but now it was my real desire never
+to see them, or him either, any more; and as to the charge of
+unnatural, I could easily answer it to myself, while I knew that the
+whole relation was unnatural in the highest degree in the world.
+
+However, it was plain there was no bringing my husband to anything; he
+would neither go with me nor let me go without him, and it was quite
+out of my power to stir without his consent, as any one that knows the
+constitution of the country I was in, knows very well.
+
+We had many family quarrels about it, and they began in time to grow up
+to a dangerous height; for as I was quite estranged from my husband (as
+he was called) in affection, so I took no heed to my words, but
+sometimes gave him language that was provoking; and, in short, strove
+all I could to bring him to a parting with me, which was what above all
+things in the world I desired most.
+
+He took my carriage very ill, and indeed he might well do so, for at
+last I refused to bed with him, and carrying on the breach upon all
+occasions to extremity, he told me once he thought I was mad, and if I
+did not alter my conduct, he would put me under cure; that is to say,
+into a madhouse. I told him he should find I was far enough from mad,
+and that it was not in his power, or any other villain’s, to murder me.
+I confess at the same time I was heartily frighted at his thoughts of
+putting me into a madhouse, which would at once have destroyed all the
+possibility of breaking the truth out, whatever the occasion might be;
+for that then no one would have given credit to a word of it.
+
+This therefore brought me to a resolution, whatever came of it, to lay
+open my whole case; but which way to do it, or to whom, was an
+inextricable difficulty, and took me many months to resolve. In the
+meantime, another quarrel with my husband happened, which came up to
+such a mad extreme as almost pushed me on to tell it him all to his
+face; but though I kept it in so as not to come to the particulars, I
+spoke so much as put him into the utmost confusion, and in the end
+brought out the whole story.
+
+He began with a calm expostulation upon my being so resolute to go to
+England; I defended it, and one hard word bringing on another, as is
+usual in all family strife, he told me I did not treat him as if he was
+my husband, or talk of my children as if I was a mother; and, in short,
+that I did not deserve to be used as a wife; that he had used all the
+fair means possible with me; that he had argued with all the kindness
+and calmness that a husband or a Christian ought to do, and that I made
+him such a vile return, that I treated him rather like a dog than a
+man, and rather like the most contemptible stranger than a husband;
+that he was very loth to use violence with me, but that, in short, he
+saw a necessity of it now, and that for the future he should be obliged
+to take such measures as should reduce me to my duty.
+
+My blood was now fired to the utmost, though I knew what he had said
+was very true, and nothing could appear more provoked. I told him, for
+his fair means and his foul, they were equally contemned by me; that
+for my going to England, I was resolved on it, come what would; and
+that as to treating him not like a husband, and not showing myself a
+mother to my children, there might be something more in it than he
+understood at present; but, for his further consideration, I thought
+fit to tell him thus much, that he neither was my lawful husband, nor
+they lawful children, and that I had reason to regard neither of them
+more than I did.
+
+I confess I was moved to pity him when I spoke it, for he turned pale
+as death, and stood mute as one thunderstruck, and once or twice I
+thought he would have fainted; in short, it put him in a fit something
+like an apoplex; he trembled, a sweat or dew ran off his face, and yet
+he was cold as a clod, so that I was forced to run and fetch something
+for him to keep life in him. When he recovered of that, he grew sick
+and vomited, and in a little after was put to bed, and the next morning
+was, as he had been indeed all night, in a violent fever.
+
+However, it went off again, and he recovered, though but slowly, and
+when he came to be a little better, he told me I had given him a mortal
+wound with my tongue, and he had only one thing to ask before he
+desired an explanation. I interrupted him, and told him I was sorry I
+had gone so far, since I saw what disorder it put him into, but I
+desired him not to talk to me of explanations, for that would but make
+things worse.
+
+This heightened his impatience, and, indeed, perplexed him beyond all
+bearing; for now he began to suspect that there was some mystery yet
+unfolded, but could not make the least guess at the real particulars of
+it; all that ran in his brain was, that I had another husband alive,
+which I could not say in fact might not be true, but I assured him,
+however, there was not the least of that in it; and indeed, as to my
+other husband, he was effectually dead in law to me, and had told me I
+should look on him as such, so I had not the least uneasiness on that
+score.
+
+But now I found the thing too far gone to conceal it much longer, and
+my husband himself gave me an opportunity to ease myself of the secret,
+much to my satisfaction. He had laboured with me three or four weeks,
+but to no purpose, only to tell him whether I had spoken these words
+only as the effect of my passion, to put him in a passion, or whether
+there was anything of truth in the bottom of them. But I continued
+inflexible, and would explain nothing, unless he would first consent to
+my going to England, which he would never do, he said, while he lived;
+on the other hand, I said it was in my power to make him willing when I
+pleased—nay, to make him entreat me to go; and this increased his
+curiosity, and made him importunate to the highest degree, but it was
+all to no purpose.
+
+At length he tells all this story to his mother, and sets her upon me
+to get the main secret out of me, and she used her utmost skill with me
+indeed; but I put her to a full stop at once by telling her that the
+reason and mystery of the whole matter lay in herself, and that it was
+my respect to her that had made me conceal it; and that, in short, I
+could go no farther, and therefore conjured her not to insist upon it.
+
+She was struck dumb at this suggestion, and could not tell what to say
+or to think; but, laying aside the supposition as a policy of mine,
+continued her importunity on account of her son, and, if possible, to
+make up the breach between us two. As to that, I told her that it was
+indeed a good design in her, but that it was impossible to be done; and
+that if I should reveal to her the truth of what she desired, she would
+grant it to be impossible, and cease to desire it. At last I seemed to
+be prevailed on by her importunity, and told her I dared trust her with
+a secret of the greatest importance, and she would soon see that this
+was so, and that I would consent to lodge it in her breast, if she
+would engage solemnly not to acquaint her son with it without my
+consent.
+
+She was long in promising this part, but rather than not come at the
+main secret, she agreed to that too, and after a great many other
+preliminaries, I began, and told her the whole story. First I told her
+how much she was concerned in all the unhappy breach which had happened
+between her son and me, by telling me her own story and her London
+name; and that the surprise she saw I was in was upon that occasion.
+Then I told her my own story, and my name, and assured her, by such
+other tokens as she could not deny, that I was no other, nor more or
+less, than her own child, her daughter, born of her body in Newgate;
+the same that had saved her from the gallows by being in her belly, and
+the same that she left in such-and-such hands when she was transported.
+
+It is impossible to express the astonishment she was in; she was not
+inclined to believe the story, or to remember the particulars, for she
+immediately foresaw the confusion that must follow in the family upon
+it. But everything concurred so exactly with the stories she had told
+me of herself, and which, if she had not told me, she would perhaps
+have been content to have denied, that she had stopped her own mouth,
+and she had nothing to do but to take me about the neck and kiss me,
+and cry most vehemently over me, without speaking one word for a long
+time together. At last she broke out: “Unhappy child!” says she, “what
+miserable chance could bring thee hither? and in the arms of my own
+son, too! Dreadful girl,” says she, “why, we are all undone! Married to
+thy own brother! Three children, and two alive, all of the same flesh
+and blood! My son and my daughter lying together as husband and wife!
+All confusion and distraction for ever! Miserable family! what will
+become of us? What is to be said? What is to be done?” And thus she ran
+on for a great while; nor had I any power to speak, or if I had, did I
+know what to say, for every word wounded me to the soul. With this kind
+of amazement on our thoughts we parted for the first time, though my
+mother was more surprised than I was, because it was more news to her
+than to me. However, she promised again to me at parting, that she
+would say nothing of it to her son, till we had talked of it again.
+
+It was not long, you may be sure, before we had a second conference
+upon the same subject; when, as if she had been willing to forget the
+story she had told me of herself, or to suppose that I had forgot some
+of the particulars, she began to tell them with alterations and
+omissions; but I refreshed her memory and set her to rights in many
+things which I supposed she had forgot, and then came in so opportunely
+with the whole history, that it was impossible for her to go from it;
+and then she fell into her rhapsodies again, and exclamations at the
+severity of her misfortunes. When these things were a little over with
+her, we fell into a close debate about what should be first done before
+we gave an account of the matter to my husband. But to what purpose
+could be all our consultations? We could neither of us see our way
+through it, nor see how it could be safe to open such a scene to him.
+It was impossible to make any judgment, or give any guess at what
+temper he would receive it in, or what measures he would take upon it;
+and if he should have so little government of himself as to make it
+public, we easily foresaw that it would be the ruin of the whole
+family, and expose my mother and me to the last degree; and if at last
+he should take the advantage the law would give him, he might put me
+away with disdain and leave me to sue for the little portion that I
+had, and perhaps waste it all in the suit, and then be a beggar; the
+children would be ruined too, having no legal claim to any of his
+effects; and thus I should see him, perhaps, in the arms of another
+wife in a few months, and be myself the most miserable creature alive.
+
+My mother was as sensible of this as I; and, upon the whole, we knew
+not what to do. After some time we came to more sober resolutions, but
+then it was with this misfortune too, that my mother’s opinion and mine
+were quite different from one another, and indeed inconsistent with one
+another; for my mother’s opinion was, that I should bury the whole
+thing entirely, and continue to live with him as my husband till some
+other event should make the discovery of it more convenient; and that
+in the meantime she would endeavour to reconcile us together again, and
+restore our mutual comfort and family peace; that we might lie as we
+used to do together, and so let the whole matter remain a secret as
+close as death. “For, child,” says she, “we are both undone if it comes
+out.”
+
+To encourage me to this, she promised to make me easy in my
+circumstances, as far as she was able, and to leave me what she could
+at her death, secured for me separately from my husband; so that if it
+should come out afterwards, I should not be left destitute, but be able
+to stand on my own feet and procure justice from him.
+
+This proposal did not agree at all with my judgment of the thing,
+though it was very fair and kind in my mother; but my thoughts ran
+quite another way.
+
+As to keeping the thing in our own breasts, and letting it all remain
+as it was, I told her it was impossible; and I asked her how she could
+think I could bear the thoughts of lying with my own brother. In the
+next place, I told her that her being alive was the only support of the
+discovery, and that while she owned me for her child, and saw reason to
+be satisfied that I was so, nobody else would doubt it; but that if she
+should die before the discovery, I should be taken for an impudent
+creature that had forged such a thing to go away from my husband, or
+should be counted crazed and distracted. Then I told her how he had
+threatened already to put me into a madhouse, and what concern I had
+been in about it, and how that was the thing that drove me to the
+necessity of discovering it to her as I had done.
+
+From all which I told her, that I had, on the most serious reflections
+I was able to make in the case, come to this resolution, which I hoped
+she would like, as a medium between both, viz. that she should use her
+endeavours with her son to give me leave to go to England, as I had
+desired, and to furnish me with a sufficient sum of money, either in
+goods along with me, or in bills for my support there, all along
+suggesting that he might one time or other think it proper to come over
+to me.
+
+That when I was gone, she should then, in cold blood, and after first
+obliging him in the solemnest manner possible to secrecy, discover the
+case to him, doing it gradually, and as her own discretion should guide
+her, so that he might not be surprised with it, and fly out into any
+passions and excesses on my account, or on hers; and that she should
+concern herself to prevent his slighting the children, or marrying
+again, unless he had a certain account of my being dead.
+
+This was my scheme, and my reasons were good; I was really alienated
+from him in the consequences of these things; indeed, I mortally hated
+him as a husband, and it was impossible to remove that riveted aversion
+I had to him. At the same time, it being an unlawful, incestuous
+living, added to that aversion, and though I had no great concern about
+it in point of conscience, yet everything added to make cohabiting with
+him the most nauseous thing to me in the world; and I think verily it
+was come to such a height, that I could almost as willingly have
+embraced a dog as have let him offer anything of that kind to me, for
+which reason I could not bear the thoughts of coming between the sheets
+with him. I cannot say that I was right in point of policy in carrying
+it such a length, while at the same time I did not resolve to discover
+the thing to him; but I am giving an account of what was, not of what
+ought or ought not to be.
+
+In their directly opposite opinion to one another my mother and I
+continued a long time, and it was impossible to reconcile our
+judgments; many disputes we had about it, but we could never either of
+us yield our own, or bring over the other.
+
+I insisted on my aversion to lying with my own brother, and she
+insisted upon its being impossible to bring him to consent to my going
+from him to England; and in this uncertainty we continued, not
+differing so as to quarrel, or anything like it, but so as not to be
+able to resolve what we should do to make up that terrible breach that
+was before us.
+
+At last I resolved on a desperate course, and told my mother my
+resolution, viz. that, in short, I would tell him of it myself. My
+mother was frighted to the last degree at the very thoughts of it; but
+I bid her be easy, told her I would do it gradually and softly, and
+with all the art and good-humour I was mistress of, and time it also as
+well as I could, taking him in good-humour too. I told her I did not
+question but, if I could be hypocrite enough to feign more affection to
+him than I really had, I should succeed in all my design, and we might
+part by consent, and with a good agreement, for I might live him well
+enough for a brother, though I could not for a husband.
+
+All this while he lay at my mother to find out, if possible, what was
+the meaning of that dreadful expression of mine, as he called it, which
+I mentioned before: namely, that I was not his lawful wife, nor my
+children his legal children. My mother put him off, told him she could
+bring me to no explanations, but found there was something that
+disturbed me very much, and she hoped she should get it out of me in
+time, and in the meantime recommended to him earnestly to use me more
+tenderly, and win me with his usual good carriage; told him of his
+terrifying and affrighting me with his threats of sending me to a
+madhouse, and the like, and advised him not to make a woman desperate
+on any account whatever.
+
+He promised her to soften his behaviour, and bid her assure me that he
+loved me as well as ever, and that he had no such design as that of
+sending me to a madhouse, whatever he might say in his passion; also he
+desired my mother to use the same persuasions to me too, that our
+affections might be renewed, and we might lie together in a good
+understanding as we used to do.
+
+I found the effects of this treaty presently. My husband’s conduct was
+immediately altered, and he was quite another man to me; nothing could
+be kinder and more obliging than he was to me upon all occasions; and I
+could do no less than make some return to it, which I did as well as I
+could, but it was but in an awkward manner at best, for nothing was
+more frightful to me than his caresses, and the apprehensions of being
+with child again by him was ready to throw me into fits; and this made
+me see that there was an absolute necessity of breaking the case to him
+without any more delay, which, however, I did with all the caution and
+reserve imaginable.
+
+He had continued his altered carriage to me near a month, and we began
+to live a new kind of life with one another; and could I have satisfied
+myself to have gone on with it, I believe it might have continued as
+long as we had continued alive together. One evening, as we were
+sitting and talking very friendly together under a little awning, which
+served as an arbour at the entrance from our house into the garden, he
+was in a very pleasant, agreeable humour, and said abundance of kind
+things to me relating to the pleasure of our present good agreement,
+and the disorders of our past breach, and what a satisfaction it was to
+him that we had room to hope we should never have any more of it.
+
+I fetched a deep sigh, and told him there was nobody in the world could
+be more delighted than I was in the good agreement we had always kept
+up, or more afflicted with the breach of it, and should be so still;
+but I was sorry to tell him that there was an unhappy circumstance in
+our case, which lay too close to my heart, and which I knew not how to
+break to him, that rendered my part of it very miserable, and took from
+me all the comfort of the rest.
+
+He importuned me to tell him what it was. I told him I could not tell
+how to do it; that while it was concealed from him I alone was unhappy,
+but if he knew it also, we should be both so; and that, therefore, to
+keep him in the dark about it was the kindest thing that I could do,
+and it was on that account alone that I kept a secret from him, the
+very keeping of which, I thought, would first or last be my
+destruction.
+
+It is impossible to express his surprise at this relation, and the
+double importunity which he used with me to discover it to him. He told
+me I could not be called kind to him, nay, I could not be faithful to
+him if I concealed it from him. I told him I thought so too, and yet I
+could not do it. He went back to what I had said before to him, and
+told me he hoped it did not relate to what I had said in my passion,
+and that he had resolved to forget all that as the effect of a rash,
+provoked spirit. I told him I wished I could forget it all too, but
+that it was not to be done, the impression was too deep, and I could
+not do it: it was impossible.
+
+He then told me he was resolved not to differ with me in anything, and
+that therefore he would importune me no more about it, resolving to
+acquiesce in whatever I did or said; only begged I should then agree,
+that whatever it was, it should no more interrupt our quiet and our
+mutual kindness.
+
+This was the most provoking thing he could have said to me, for I
+really wanted his further importunities, that I might be prevailed with
+to bring out that which indeed it was like death to me to conceal; so I
+answered him plainly that I could not say I was glad not to be
+importuned, thought I could not tell how to comply. “But come, my
+dear,” said I, “what conditions will you make with me upon the opening
+this affair to you?”
+
+“Any conditions in the world,” said he, “that you can in reason desire
+of me.” “Well,” said I, “come, give it me under your hand, that if you
+do not find I am in any fault, or that I am willingly concerned in the
+causes of the misfortune that is to follow, you will not blame me, use
+me the worse, do me any injury, or make me be the sufferer for that
+which is not my fault.”
+
+“That,” says he, “is the most reasonable demand in the world: not to
+blame you for that which is not your fault. Give me a pen and ink,”
+says he; so I ran in and fetched a pen, ink, and paper, and he wrote
+the condition down in the very words I had proposed it, and signed it
+with his name. “Well,” says he, “what is next, my dear?”
+
+“Why,” says I, “the next is, that you will not blame me for not
+discovering the secret of it to you before I knew it.”
+
+“Very just again,” says he; “with all my heart”; so he wrote down that
+also, and signed it.
+
+“Well, my dear,” says I, “then I have but one condition more to make
+with you, and that is, that as there is nobody concerned in it but you
+and I, you shall not discover it to any person in the world, except
+your own mother; and that in all the measures you shall take upon the
+discovery, as I am equally concerned in it with you, though as innocent
+as yourself, you shall do nothing in a passion, nothing to my prejudice
+or to your mother’s prejudice, without my knowledge and consent.”
+
+This a little amazed him, and he wrote down the words distinctly, but
+read them over and over before he signed them, hesitating at them
+several times, and repeating them: “My mother’s prejudice! and your
+prejudice! What mysterious thing can this be?” However, at last he
+signed it.
+
+“Well,” says I, “my dear, I’ll ask you no more under your hand; but as
+you are to hear the most unexpected and surprising thing that perhaps
+ever befell any family in the world, I beg you to promise me you will
+receive it with composure and a presence of mind suitable to a man of
+sense.”
+
+“I’ll do my utmost,” says he, “upon condition you will keep me no
+longer in suspense, for you terrify me with all these preliminaries.”
+
+“Well, then,” says I, “it is this: as I told you before in a heat, that
+I was not your lawful wife, and that our children were not legal
+children, so I must let you know now in calmness and in kindness, but
+with affliction enough, that I am your own sister, and you my own
+brother, and that we are both the children of our mother now alive, and
+in the house, who is convinced of the truth of it, in a manner not to
+be denied or contradicted.”
+
+I saw him turn pale and look wild; and I said, “Now remember your
+promise, and receive it with presence of mind; for who could have said
+more to prepare you for it than I have done?” However, I called a
+servant, and got him a little glass of rum (which is the usual dram of
+that country), for he was just fainting away. When he was a little
+recovered, I said to him, “This story, you may be sure, requires a long
+explanation, and therefore, have patience and compose your mind to hear
+it out, and I’ll make it as short as I can”; and with this, I told him
+what I thought was needful of the fact, and particularly how my mother
+came to discover it to me, as above. “And now, my dear,” says I, “you
+will see reason for my capitulations, and that I neither have been the
+cause of this matter, nor could be so, and that I could know nothing of
+it before now.”
+
+“I am fully satisfied of that,” says he, “but ’tis a dreadful surprise
+to me; however, I know a remedy for it all, and a remedy that shall put
+an end to your difficulties, without your going to England.” “That
+would be strange,” said I, “as all the rest.” “No, no,” says he, “I’ll
+make it easy; there’s nobody in the way of it but myself.” He looked a
+little disordered when he said this, but I did not apprehend anything
+from it at that time, believing, as it used to be said, that they who
+do those things never talk of them, or that they who talk of such
+things never do them.
+
+But things were not come to their height with him, and I observed he
+became pensive and melancholy; and in a word, as I thought, a little
+distempered in his head. I endeavoured to talk him into temper, and to
+reason him into a kind of scheme for our government in the affair, and
+sometimes he would be well, and talk with some courage about it; but
+the weight of it lay too heavy upon his thoughts, and, in short, it
+went so far that he made attempts upon himself, and in one of them had
+actually strangled himself and had not his mother come into the room in
+the very moment, he had died; but with the help of a Negro servant she
+cut him down and recovered him.
+
+Things were now come to a lamentable height in the family. My pity for
+him now began to revive that affection which at first I really had for
+him, and I endeavoured sincerely, by all the kind carriage I could, to
+make up the breach; but, in short, it had gotten too great a head, it
+preyed upon his spirits, and it threw him into a long, lingering
+consumption, though it happened not to be mortal. In this distress I
+did not know what to do, as his life was apparently declining, and I
+might perhaps have married again there, very much to my advantage; it
+had been certainly my business to have stayed in the country, but my
+mind was restless too, and uneasy; I hankered after coming to England,
+and nothing would satisfy me without it.
+
+In short, by an unwearied importunity, my husband, who was apparently
+decaying, as I observed, was at last prevailed with; and so my own fate
+pushing me on, the way was made clear for me, and my mother concurring,
+I obtained a very good cargo for my coming to England.
+
+When I parted with my brother (for such I am now to call him), we
+agreed that after I arrived he should pretend to have an account that I
+was dead in England, and so might marry again when he would. He
+promised, and engaged to me to correspond with me as a sister, and to
+assist and support me as long as I lived; and that if he died before
+me, he would leave sufficient to his mother to take care of me still,
+in the name of a sister, and he was in some respects careful of me,
+when he heard of me; but it was so oddly managed that I felt the
+disappointments very sensibly afterwards, as you shall hear in its
+time.
+
+I came away for England in the month of August, after I had been eight
+years in that country; and now a new scene of misfortunes attended me,
+which perhaps few women have gone through the life of.
+
+We had an indifferent good voyage till we came just upon the coast of
+England, and where we arrived in two-and-thirty days, but were then
+ruffled with two or three storms, one of which drove us away to the
+coast of Ireland, and we put in at Kinsdale. We remained there about
+thirteen days, got some refreshment on shore, and put to sea again,
+though we met with very bad weather again, in which the ship sprung her
+mainmast, as they called it, for I knew not what they meant. But we got
+at last into Milford Haven, in Wales, where, though it was remote from
+our port, yet having my foot safe upon the firm ground of my native
+country, the isle of Britain, I resolved to venture it no more upon the
+waters, which had been so terrible to me; so getting my clothes and
+money on shore, with my bills of loading and other papers, I resolved
+to come for London, and leave the ship to get to her port as she could;
+the port whither she was bound was to Bristol, where my brother’s chief
+correspondent lived.
+
+I got to London in about three weeks, where I heard a little while
+after that the ship was arrived in Bristol, but at the same time had
+the misfortune to know that by the violent weather she had been in, and
+the breaking of her mainmast, she had great damage on board, and that a
+great part of her cargo was spoiled.
+
+I had now a new scene of life upon my hands, and a dreadful appearance
+it had. I was come away with a kind of final farewell. What I brought
+with me was indeed considerable, had it come safe, and by the help of
+it, I might have married again tolerably well; but as it was, I was
+reduced to between two or three hundred pounds in the whole, and this
+without any hope of recruit. I was entirely without friends, nay, even
+so much as without acquaintance, for I found it was absolutely
+necessary not to revive former acquaintances; and as for my subtle
+friend that set me up formerly for a fortune, she was dead, and her
+husband also; as I was informed, upon sending a person unknown to
+inquire.
+
+The looking after my cargo of goods soon after obliged me to take a
+journey to Bristol, and during my attendance upon that affair I took
+the diversion of going to the Bath, for as I was still far from being
+old, so my humour, which was always gay, continued so to an extreme;
+and being now, as it were, a woman of fortune though I was a woman
+without a fortune, I expected something or other might happen in my way
+that might mend my circumstances, as had been my case before.
+
+The Bath is a place of gallantry enough; expensive, and full of snares.
+I went thither, indeed, in the view of taking anything that might
+offer, but I must do myself justice, as to protest I knew nothing
+amiss; I meant nothing but in an honest way, nor had I any thoughts
+about me at first that looked the way which afterwards I suffered them
+to be guided.
+
+Here I stayed the whole latter season, as it is called there, and
+contracted some unhappy acquaintances, which rather prompted the
+follies I fell afterwards into than fortified me against them. I lived
+pleasantly enough, kept good company, that is to say, gay, fine
+company; but had the discouragement to find this way of living sunk me
+exceedingly, and that as I had no settled income, so spending upon the
+main stock was but a certain kind of bleeding to death; and this gave
+me many sad reflections in the interval of my other thoughts. However,
+I shook them off, and still flattered myself that something or other
+might offer for my advantage.
+
+But I was in the wrong place for it. I was not now at Redriff, where,
+if I had set myself tolerably up, some honest sea captain or other
+might have talked with me upon the honourable terms of matrimony; but I
+was at the Bath, where men find a mistress sometimes, but very rarely
+look for a wife; and consequently all the particular acquaintances a
+woman can expect to make there must have some tendency that way.
+
+I had spent the first season well enough; for though I had contracted
+some acquaintance with a gentleman who came to the Bath for his
+diversion, yet I had entered into no felonious treaty, as it might be
+called. I had resisted some casual offers of gallantry, and had managed
+that way well enough. I was not wicked enough to come into the crime
+for the mere vice of it, and I had no extraordinary offers made me that
+tempted me with the main thing which I wanted.
+
+However, I went this length the first season, viz. I contracted an
+acquaintance with a woman in whose house I lodged, who, though she did
+not keep an ill house, as we call it, yet had none of the best
+principles in herself. I had on all occasions behaved myself so well as
+not to get the least slur upon my reputation on any account whatever,
+and all the men that I had conversed with were of so good reputation
+that I had not given the least reflection by conversing with them; nor
+did any of them seem to think there was room for a wicked
+correspondence, if they had any of them offered it; yet there was one
+gentleman, as above, who always singled me out for the diversion of my
+company, as he called it, which, as he was pleased to say, was very
+agreeable to him, but at that time there was no more in it.
+
+I had many melancholy hours at the Bath after the company was gone; for
+though I went to Bristol sometime for the disposing my effects, and for
+recruits of money, yet I chose to come back to Bath for my residence,
+because being on good terms with the woman in whose house I lodged in
+the summer, I found that during the winter I lived rather cheaper there
+than I could do anywhere else. Here, I say, I passed the winter as
+heavily as I had passed the autumn cheerfully; but having contracted a
+nearer intimacy with the said woman in whose house I lodged, I could
+not avoid communicating to her something of what lay hardest upon my
+mind and particularly the narrowness of my circumstances, and the loss
+of my fortune by the damage of my goods at sea. I told her also, that I
+had a mother and a brother in Virginia in good circumstances; and as I
+had really written back to my mother in particular to represent my
+condition, and the great loss I had received, which indeed came to
+almost £500, so I did not fail to let my new friend know that I
+expected a supply from thence, and so indeed I did; and as the ships
+went from Bristol to York River, in Virginia, and back again generally
+in less time from London, and that my brother corresponded chiefly at
+Bristol, I thought it was much better for me to wait here for my
+returns than to go to London, where also I had not the least
+acquaintance.
+
+My new friend appeared sensibly affected with my condition, and indeed
+was so very kind as to reduce the rate of my living with her to so low
+a price during the winter, that she convinced me she got nothing by me;
+and as for lodging, during the winter I paid nothing at all.
+
+When the spring season came on, she continued to be as kind to me as
+she could, and I lodged with her for a time, till it was found
+necessary to do otherwise. She had some persons of character that
+frequently lodged in her house, and in particular the gentleman who, as
+I said, singled me out for his companion the winter before; and he came
+down again with another gentleman in his company and two servants, and
+lodged in the same house. I suspected that my landlady had invited him
+thither, letting him know that I was still with her; but she denied it,
+and protested to me that she did not, and he said the same.
+
+In a word, this gentleman came down and continued to single me out for
+his peculiar confidence as well as conversation. He was a complete
+gentleman, that must be confessed, and his company was very agreeable
+to me, as mine, if I might believe him, was to him. He made no
+professions to me but of an extraordinary respect, and he had such an
+opinion of my virtue, that, as he often professed, he believed if he
+should offer anything else, I should reject him with contempt. He soon
+understood from me that I was a widow; that I had arrived at Bristol
+from Virginia by the last ships; and that I waited at Bath till the
+next Virginia fleet should arrive, by which I expected considerable
+effects. I understood by him, and by others of him, that he had a wife,
+but that the lady was distempered in her head, and was under the
+conduct of her own relations, which he consented to, to avoid any
+reflections that might (as was not unusual in such cases) be cast on
+him for mismanaging her cure; and in the meantime he came to the Bath
+to divert his thoughts from the disturbance of such a melancholy
+circumstance as that was.
+
+My landlady, who of her own accord encouraged the correspondence on all
+occasions, gave me an advantageous character of him, as a man of honour
+and of virtue, as well as of great estate. And indeed I had a great
+deal of reason to say so of him too; for though we lodged both on a
+floor, and he had frequently come into my chamber, even when I was in
+bed, and I also into his when he was in bed, yet he never offered
+anything to me further than a kiss, or so much as solicited me to
+anything till long after, as you shall hear.
+
+I frequently took notice to my landlady of his exceeding modesty, and
+she again used to tell me, she believed it was so from the beginning;
+however, she used to tell me that she thought I ought to expect some
+gratification from him for my company, for indeed he did, as it were,
+engross me, and I was seldom from him. I told her I had not given him
+the least occasion to think I wanted it, or that I would accept of it
+from him. She told me she would take that part upon her, and she did
+so, and managed it so dexterously, that the first time we were together
+alone, after she had talked with him, he began to inquire a little into
+my circumstances, as how I had subsisted myself since I came on shore,
+and whether I did not want money. I stood off very boldly. I told him
+that though my cargo of tobacco was damaged, yet that it was not quite
+lost; that the merchant I had been consigned to had so honestly managed
+for me that I had not wanted, and that I hoped, with frugal management,
+I should make it hold out till more would come, which I expected by the
+next fleet; that in the meantime I had retrenched my expenses, and
+whereas I kept a maid last season, now I lived without; and whereas I
+had a chamber and a dining-room then on the first floor, as he knew, I
+now had but one room, two pair of stairs, and the like. “But I live,”
+said I, “as well satisfied now as I did then”; adding, that his company
+had been a means to make me live much more cheerfully than otherwise I
+should have done, for which I was much obliged to him; and so I put off
+all room for any offer for the present. However, it was not long before
+he attacked me again, and told me he found that I was backward to trust
+him with the secret of my circumstances, which he was sorry for;
+assuring me that he inquired into it with no design to satisfy his own
+curiosity, but merely to assist me, if there was any occasion; but
+since I would not own myself to stand in need of any assistance, he had
+but one thing more to desire of me, and that was, that I would promise
+him that when I was any way straitened, or like to be so, I would
+frankly tell him of it, and that I would make use of him with the same
+freedom that he made the offer; adding, that I should always find I had
+a true friend, though perhaps I was afraid to trust him.
+
+I omitted nothing that was fit to be said by one infinitely obliged, to
+let him know that I had a due sense of his kindness; and indeed from
+that time I did not appear so much reserved to him as I had done
+before, though still within the bounds of the strictest virtue on both
+sides; but how free soever our conversation was, I could not arrive to
+that sort of freedom which he desired, viz. to tell him I wanted money,
+though I was secretly very glad of his offer.
+
+Some weeks passed after this, and still I never asked him for money;
+when my landlady, a cunning creature, who had often pressed me to it,
+but found that I could not do it, makes a story of her own inventing,
+and comes in bluntly to me when we were together. “Oh, widow!” says
+she, “I have bad news to tell you this morning.” “What is that?” said
+I; “are the Virginia ships taken by the French?”—for that was my fear.
+“No, no,” says she, “but the man you sent to Bristol yesterday for
+money is come back, and says he has brought none.”
+
+Now I could by no means like her project; I thought it looked too much
+like prompting him, which indeed he did not want, and I clearly saw
+that I should lose nothing by being backward to ask, so I took her up
+short. “I can’t image why he should say so to you,” said I, “for I
+assure you he brought me all the money I sent him for, and here it is,”
+said I (pulling out my purse with about twelve guineas in it); and
+added, “I intend you shall have most of it by and by.”
+
+He seemed distasted a little at her talking as she did at first, as
+well as I, taking it, as I fancied he would, as something forward of
+her; but when he saw me give such an answer, he came immediately to
+himself again. The next morning we talked of it again, when I found he
+was fully satisfied, and, smiling, said he hoped I would not want money
+and not tell him of it, and that I had promised him otherwise. I told
+him I had been very much dissatisfied at my landlady’s talking so
+publicly the day before of what she had nothing to do with; but I
+supposed she wanted what I owed her, which was about eight guineas,
+which I had resolved to give her, and had accordingly given it her the
+same night she talked so foolishly.
+
+He was in a might good humour when he heard me say I had paid her, and
+it went off into some other discourse at that time. But the next
+morning, he having heard me up about my room before him, he called to
+me, and I answering, he asked me to come into his chamber. He was in
+bed when I came in, and he made me come and sit down on his bedside,
+for he said he had something to say to me which was of some moment.
+After some very kind expressions, he asked me if I would be very honest
+to him, and give a sincere answer to one thing he would desire of me.
+After some little cavil at the word “sincere,” and asking him if I had
+ever given him any answers which were not sincere, I promised him I
+would. Why, then, his request was, he said, to let him see my purse. I
+immediately put my hand into my pocket, and, laughing to him, pulled it
+out, and there was in it three guineas and a half. Then he asked me if
+there was all the money I had. I told him No, laughing again, not by a
+great deal.
+
+Well, then, he said, he would have me promise to go and fetch him all
+the money I had, every farthing. I told him I would, and I went into my
+chamber and fetched him a little private drawer, where I had about six
+guineas more, and some silver, and threw it all down upon the bed, and
+told him there was all my wealth, honestly to a shilling. He looked a
+little at it, but did not tell it, and huddled it all into the drawer
+again, and then reaching his pocket, pulled out a key, and bade me open
+a little walnut-tree box he had upon the table, and bring him such a
+drawer, which I did. In which drawer there was a great deal of money in
+gold, I believe near two hundred guineas, but I knew not how much. He
+took the drawer, and taking my hand, made me put it in and take a whole
+handful. I was backward at that, but he held my hand hard in his hand,
+and put it into the drawer, and made me take out as many guineas almost
+as I could well take up at once.
+
+When I had done so, he made me put them into my lap, and took my little
+drawer, and poured out all my money among his, and bade me get me gone,
+and carry it all home into my own chamber.
+
+I relate this story the more particularly because of the good-humour
+there was in it, and to show the temper with which we conversed. It was
+not long after this but he began every day to find fault with my
+clothes, with my laces and headdresses, and, in a word, pressed me to
+buy better; which, by the way, I was willing enough to do, though I did
+not seem to be so, for I loved nothing in the world better than fine
+clothes. I told him I must housewife the money he had lent me, or else
+I should not be able to pay him again. He then told me, in a few words,
+that as he had a sincere respect for me, and knew my circumstances, he
+had not lent me that money, but given it me, and that he thought I had
+merited it from him by giving him my company so entirely as I had done.
+After this he made me take a maid, and keep house, and his friend that
+come with him to Bath being gone, he obliged me to diet him, which I
+did very willingly, believing, as it appeared, that I should lose
+nothing by it, nor did the woman of the house fail to find her account
+in it too.
+
+We had lived thus near three months, when the company beginning to wear
+away at the Bath, he talked of going away, and fain he would have me to
+go to London with him. I was not very easy in that proposal, not
+knowing what posture I was to live in there, or how he might use me.
+But while this was in debate he fell very sick; he had gone out to a
+place in Somersetshire, called Shepton, where he had some business and
+was there taken very ill, and so ill that he could not travel; so he
+sent his man back to Bath, to beg me that I would hire a coach and come
+over to him. Before he went, he had left all his money and other things
+of value with me, and what to do with them I did not know, but I
+secured them as well as I could, and locked up the lodgings and went to
+him, where I found him very ill indeed; however, I persuaded him to be
+carried in a litter to the Bath, where there was more help and better
+advice to be had.
+
+He consented, and I brought him to the Bath, which was about fifteen
+miles, as I remember. Here he continued very ill of a fever, and kept
+his bed five weeks, all which time I nursed him and tended him myself,
+as much and as carefully as if I had been his wife; indeed, if I had
+been his wife I could not have done more. I sat up with him so much and
+so often, that at last, indeed, he would not let me sit up any longer,
+and then I got a pallet-bed into his room, and lay in it just at his
+bed’s feet.
+
+I was indeed sensibly affected with his condition, and with the
+apprehension of losing such a friend as he was, and was like to be to
+me, and I used to sit and cry by him many hours together. However, at
+last he grew better, and gave hopes that he would recover, as indeed he
+did, though very slowly.
+
+Were it otherwise than what I am going to say, I should not be backward
+to disclose it, as it is apparent I have done in other cases in this
+account; but I affirm, that through all this conversation, abating the
+freedom of coming into the chamber when I or he was in bed, and abating
+the necessary offices of attending him night and day when he was sick,
+there had not passed the least immodest word or action between us. Oh
+that it had been so to the last!
+
+After some time he gathered strength and grew well apace, and I would
+have removed my pallet-bed, but he would not let me, till he was able
+to venture himself without anybody to sit up with him, and then I
+removed to my own chamber.
+
+He took many occasions to express his sense of my tenderness and
+concern for him; and when he grew quite well, he made me a present of
+fifty guineas for my care and, as he called it, for hazarding my life
+to save his.
+
+And now he made deep protestations of a sincere inviolable affection
+for me, but all along attested it to be with the utmost reserve for my
+virtue and his own. I told him I was fully satisfied of it. He carried
+it that length that he protested to me, that if he was naked in bed
+with me, he would as sacredly preserve my virtue as he would defend it
+if I was assaulted by a ravisher. I believed him, and told him I did
+so; but this did not satisfy him, he would, he said, wait for some
+opportunity to give me an undoubted testimony of it.
+
+It was a great while after this that I had occasion, on my own
+business, to go to Bristol, upon which he hired me a coach, and would
+go with me, and did so; and now indeed our intimacy increased. From
+Bristol he carried me to Gloucester, which was merely a journey of
+pleasure, to take the air; and here it was our hap to have no lodging
+in the inn but in one large chamber with two beds in it. The master of
+the house going up with us to show his rooms, and coming into that
+room, said very frankly to him, “Sir, it is none of my business to
+inquire whether the lady be your spouse or no, but if not, you may lie
+as honestly in these two beds as if you were in two chambers,” and with
+that he pulls a great curtain which drew quite across the room and
+effectually divided the beds. “Well,” says my friend, very readily,
+“these beds will do, and as for the rest, we are too near akin to lie
+together, though we may lodge near one another”; and this put an honest
+face on the thing too. When we came to go to bed, he decently went out
+of the room till I was in bed, and then went to bed in the bed on his
+own side of the room, but lay there talking to me a great while.
+
+At last, repeating his usual saying, that he could lie naked in the bed
+with me and not offer me the least injury, he starts out of his bed.
+“And now, my dear,” says he, “you shall see how just I will be to you,
+and that I can keep my word,” and away he comes to my bed.
+
+I resisted a little, but I must confess I should not have resisted him
+much if he had not made those promises at all; so after a little
+struggle, as I said, I lay still and let him come to bed. When he was
+there he took me in his arms, and so I lay all night with him, but he
+had no more to do with me, or offered anything to me, other than
+embracing me, as I say, in his arms, no, not the whole night, but rose
+up and dressed him in the morning, and left me as innocent for him as I
+was the day I was born.
+
+This was a surprising thing to me, and perhaps may be so to others, who
+know how the laws of nature work; for he was a strong, vigorous, brisk
+person; nor did he act thus on a principle of religion at all, but of
+mere affection; insisting on it, that though I was to him the most
+agreeable woman in the world, yet, because he loved me, he could not
+injure me.
+
+I own it was a noble principle, but as it was what I never understood
+before, so it was to me perfectly amazing. We traveled the rest of the
+journey as we did before, and came back to the Bath, where, as he had
+opportunity to come to me when he would, he often repeated the
+moderation, and I frequently lay with him, and he with me, and although
+all the familiarities between man and wife were common to us, yet he
+never once offered to go any farther, and he valued himself much upon
+it. I do not say that I was so wholly pleased with it as he thought I
+was, for I own much wickeder than he, as you shall hear presently.
+
+We lived thus near two years, only with this exception, that he went
+three times to London in that time, and once he continued there four
+months; but, to do him justice, he always supplied me with money to
+subsist me very handsomely.
+
+Had we continued thus, I confess we had had much to boast of; but as
+wise men say, it is ill venturing too near the brink of a command, so
+we found it; and here again I must do him the justice to own that the
+first breach was not on his part. It was one night that we were in bed
+together warm and merry, and having drunk, I think, a little more wine
+that night, both of us, than usual, although not in the least to
+disorder either of us, when, after some other follies which I cannot
+name, and being clasped close in his arms, I told him (I repeat it with
+shame and horror of soul) that I could find in my heart to discharge
+him of his engagement for one night and no more.
+
+He took me at my word immediately, and after that there was no
+resisting him; neither indeed had I any mind to resist him any more,
+let what would come of it.
+
+Thus the government of our virtue was broken, and I exchanged the place
+of friend for that unmusical, harsh-sounding title of whore. In the
+morning we were both at our penitentials; I cried very heartily, he
+expressed himself very sorry; but that was all either of us could do at
+that time, and the way being thus cleared, and the bars of virtue and
+conscience thus removed, we had the less difficult afterwards to
+struggle with.
+
+It was but a dull kind of conversation that we had together for all the
+rest of that week; I looked on him with blushes, and every now and then
+started that melancholy objection, “What if I should be with child now?
+What will become of me then?” He encouraged me by telling me, that as
+long as I was true to him, he would be so to me; and since it was gone
+such a length (which indeed he never intended), yet if I was with
+child, he would take care of that, and of me too. This hardened us
+both. I assured him if I was with child, I would die for want of a
+midwife rather than name him as the father of it; and he assured me I
+should never want if I should be with child. These mutual assurances
+hardened us in the thing, and after this we repeated the crime as often
+as we pleased, till at length, as I had feared, so it came to pass, and
+I was indeed with child.
+
+After I was sure it was so, and I had satisfied him of it too, we began
+to think of taking measures for the managing it, and I proposed
+trusting the secret to my landlady, and asking her advice, which he
+agreed to. My landlady, a woman (as I found) used to such things, made
+light of it; she said she knew it would come to that at last, and made
+us very merry about it. As I said above, we found her an experienced
+old lady at such work; she undertook everything, engaged to procure a
+midwife and a nurse, to satisfy all inquiries, and bring us off with
+reputation, and she did so very dexterously indeed.
+
+When I grew near my time she desired my gentleman to go away to London,
+or make as if he did so. When he was gone, she acquainted the parish
+officers that there was a lady ready to lie in at her house, but that
+she knew her husband very well, and gave them, as she pretended, an
+account of his name, which she called Sir Walter Cleve; telling them he
+was a very worthy gentleman, and that she would answer for all
+inquiries, and the like. This satisfied the parish officers presently,
+and I lay in with as much credit as I could have done if I had really
+been my Lady Cleve, and was assisted in my travail by three or four of
+the best citizens’ wives of Bath who lived in the neighbourhood, which,
+however, made me a little the more expensive to him. I often expressed
+my concern to him about it, but he bid me not be concerned at it.
+
+As he had furnished me very sufficiently with money for the
+extraordinary expenses of my lying in, I had everything very handsome
+about me, but did not affect to be gay or extravagant neither; besides,
+knowing my own circumstances, and knowing the world as I had done, and
+that such kind of things do not often last long, I took care to lay up
+as much money as I could for a wet day, as I called it; making him
+believe it was all spent upon the extraordinary appearance of things in
+my lying in.
+
+By this means, and including what he had given me as above, I had at
+the end of my lying in about two hundred guineas by me, including also
+what was left of my own.
+
+I was brought to bed of a fine boy indeed, and a charming child it was;
+and when he heard of it he wrote me a very kind, obliging letter about
+it, and then told me, he thought it would look better for me to come
+away for London as soon as I was up and well; that he had provided
+apartments for me at Hammersmith, as if I came thither only from
+London; and that after a little while I should go back to the Bath, and
+he would go with me.
+
+I liked this offer very well, and accordingly hired a coach on purpose,
+and taking my child, and a wet-nurse to tend and suckle it, and a
+maid-servant with me, away I went for London.
+
+He met me at Reading in his own chariot, and taking me into that, left
+the servant and the child in the hired coach, and so he brought me to
+my new lodgings at Hammersmith; with which I had abundance of reason to
+be very well pleased, for they were very handsome rooms, and I was very
+well accommodated.
+
+And now I was indeed in the height of what I might call my prosperity,
+and I wanted nothing but to be a wife, which, however, could not be in
+this case, there was no room for it; and therefore on all occasions I
+studied to save what I could, as I have said above, against a time of
+scarcity, knowing well enough that such things as these do not always
+continue; that men that keep mistresses often change them, grow weary
+of them, or jealous of them, or something or other happens to make them
+withdraw their bounty; and sometimes the ladies that are thus well used
+are not careful by a prudent conduct to preserve the esteem of their
+persons, or the nice article of their fidelity, and then they are
+justly cast off with contempt.
+
+But I was secured in this point, for as I had no inclination to change,
+so I had no manner of acquaintance in the whole house, and so no
+temptation to look any farther. I kept no company but in the family
+when I lodged, and with the clergyman’s lady at next door; so that when
+he was absent I visited nobody, nor did he ever find me out of my
+chamber or parlour whenever he came down; if I went anywhere to take
+the air, it was always with him.
+
+The living in this manner with him, and his with me, was certainly the
+most undesigned thing in the world; he often protested to me, that when
+he became first acquainted with me, and even to the very night when we
+first broke in upon our rules, he never had the least design of lying
+with me; that he always had a sincere affection for me, but not the
+least real inclination to do what he had done. I assured him I never
+suspected him; that if I had I should not so easily have yielded to the
+freedom which brought it on, but that it was all a surprise, and was
+owing to the accident of our having yielded too far to our mutual
+inclinations that night; and indeed I have often observed since, and
+leave it as a caution to the readers of this story, that we ought to be
+cautious of gratifying our inclinations in loose and lewd freedoms,
+lest we find our resolutions of virtue fail us in the junction when
+their assistance should be most necessary.
+
+It is true, and I have confessed it before, that from the first hour I
+began to converse with him, I resolved to let him lie with me, if he
+offered it; but it was because I wanted his help and assistance, and I
+knew no other way of securing him than that. But when we were that
+night together, and, as I have said, had gone such a length, I found my
+weakness; the inclination was not to be resisted, but I was obliged to
+yield up all even before he asked it.
+
+However, he was so just to me that he never upbraided me with that; nor
+did he ever express the least dislike of my conduct on any other
+occasion, but always protested he was as much delighted with my company
+as he was the first hour we came together: I mean, came together as
+bedfellows.
+
+It is true that he had no wife, that is to say, she was as no wife to
+him, and so I was in no danger that way, but the just reflections of
+conscience oftentimes snatch a man, especially a man of sense, from the
+arms of a mistress, as it did him at last, though on another occasion.
+
+On the other hand, though I was not without secret reproaches of my own
+conscience for the life I led, and that even in the greatest height of
+the satisfaction I ever took, yet I had the terrible prospect of
+poverty and starving, which lay on me as a frightful spectre, so that
+there was no looking behind me. But as poverty brought me into it, so
+fear of poverty kept me in it, and I frequently resolved to leave it
+quite off, if I could but come to lay up money enough to maintain me.
+But these were thoughts of no weight, and whenever he came to me they
+vanished; for his company was so delightful, that there was no being
+melancholy when he was there; the reflections were all the subject of
+those hours when I was alone.
+
+I lived six years in this happy but unhappy condition, in which time I
+brought him three children, but only the first of them lived; and
+though I removed twice in those six years, yet I came back the sixth
+year to my first lodgings at Hammersmith. Here it was that I was one
+morning surprised with a kind but melancholy letter from my gentleman,
+intimating that he was very ill, and was afraid he should have another
+fit of sickness, but that his wife’s relations being in the house with
+him, it would not be practicable to have me with him, which, however,
+he expressed his great dissatisfaction in, and that he wished I could
+be allowed to tend and nurse him as I did before.
+
+I was very much concerned at this account, and was very impatient to
+know how it was with him. I waited a fortnight or thereabouts, and
+heard nothing, which surprised me, and I began to be very uneasy
+indeed. I think, I may say, that for the next fortnight I was near to
+distracted. It was my particular difficulty that I did not know
+directly where he was; for I understood at first he was in the lodgings
+of his wife’s mother; but having removed myself to London, I soon
+found, by the help of the direction I had for writing my letters to
+him, how to inquire after him, and there I found that he was at a house
+in Bloomsbury, whither he had, a little before he fell sick, removed
+his whole family; and that his wife and wife’s mother were in the same
+house, though the wife was not suffered to know that she was in the
+same house with her husband.
+
+Here I also soon understood that he was at the last extremity, which
+made me almost at the last extremity too, to have a true account. One
+night I had the curiosity to disguise myself like a servant-maid, in a
+round cap and straw hat, and went to the door, as sent by a lady of his
+neighbourhood, where he lived before, and giving master and mistress’s
+service, I said I was sent to know how Mr. —— did, and how he had
+rested that night. In delivering this message I got the opportunity I
+desired; for, speaking with one of the maids, I held a long gossip’s
+tale with her, and had all the particulars of his illness, which I
+found was a pleurisy, attended with a cough and a fever. She told me
+also who was in the house, and how his wife was, who, by her relation,
+they were in some hopes might recover her understanding; but as to the
+gentleman himself, in short she told me the doctors said there was very
+little hopes of him, that in the morning they thought he had been
+dying, and that he was but little better then, for they did not expect
+that he could live over the next night.
+
+This was heavy news for me, and I began now to see an end of my
+prosperity, and to see also that it was very well I had played to good
+housewife, and secured or saved something while he was alive, for that
+now I had no view of my own living before me.
+
+It lay very heavy upon my mind, too, that I had a son, a fine lovely
+boy, about five years old, and no provision made for it, at least that
+I knew of. With these considerations, and a sad heart, I went home that
+evening, and began to cast with myself how I should live, and in what
+manner to bestow myself, for the residue of my life.
+
+You may be sure I could not rest without inquiring again very quickly
+what was become of him; and not venturing to go myself, I sent several
+sham messengers, till after a fortnight’s waiting longer, I found that
+there was hopes of his life, though he was still very ill; then I
+abated my sending any more to the house, and in some time after I
+learned in the neighbourhood that he was about house, and then that he
+was abroad again.
+
+I made no doubt then but that I should soon hear of him, and began to
+comfort myself with my circumstances being, as I thought, recovered. I
+waited a week, and two weeks, and with much surprise and amazement I
+waited near two months and heard nothing, but that, being recovered, he
+was gone into the country for the air, and for the better recovery
+after his distemper. After this it was yet two months more, and then I
+understood he was come to his city house again, but still I heard
+nothing from him.
+
+I had written several letters for him, and directed them as usual, and
+found two or three of them had been called for, but not the rest. I
+wrote again in a more pressing manner than ever, and in one of them let
+him know, that I must be forced to wait on him myself, representing my
+circumstances, the rent of lodgings to pay, and the provision for the
+child wanting, and my own deplorable condition, destitute of
+subsistence for his most solemn engagement to take care of and provide
+for me. I took a copy of this letter, and finding it lay at the house
+near a month and was not called for, I found means to have the copy of
+it put into his own hands at a coffee-house, where I had by inquiry
+found he used to go.
+
+This letter forced an answer from him, by which, though I found I was
+to be abandoned, yet I found he had sent a letter to me some time
+before, desiring me to go down to the Bath again. Its contents I shall
+come to presently.
+
+It is true that sick-beds are the time when such correspondences as
+this are looked on with different countenances, and seen with other
+eyes than we saw them with, or than they appeared with before. My lover
+had been at the gates of death, and at the very brink of eternity; and,
+it seems, had been struck with a due remorse, and with sad reflections
+upon his past life of gallantry and levity; and among the rest,
+criminal correspondence with me, which was neither more nor less than a
+long-continued life of adultery, and represented itself as it really
+was, not as it had been formerly thought by him to be, and he looked
+upon it now with a just and religious abhorrence.
+
+I cannot but observe also, and leave it for the direction of my sex in
+such cases of pleasure, that whenever sincere repentance succeeds such
+a crime as this, there never fails to attend a hatred of the object;
+and the more the affection might seem to be before, the hatred will be
+the more in proportion. It will always be so, indeed it can be no
+otherwise; for there cannot be a true and sincere abhorrence of the
+offence, and the love to the cause of it remain; there will, with an
+abhorrence of the sin, be found a detestation of the fellow-sinner; you
+can expect no other.
+
+I found it so here, though good manners and justice in this gentleman
+kept him from carrying it on to any extreme but the short history of
+his part in this affair was thus: he perceived by my last letter, and
+by all the rest, which he went for after, that I was not gone to Bath,
+that his first letter had not come to my hand; upon which he write me
+this following:—
+
+“MADAM,—I am surprised that my letter, dated the 8th of last month, did
+not come to your hand; I give you my word it was delivered at your
+lodgings, and to the hands of your maid.
+    ’I need not acquaint you with what has been my condition for some
+    time past; and how, having been at the edge of the grave, I am, by
+    the unexpected and undeserved mercy of Heaven, restored again. In
+    the condition I have been in, it cannot be strange to you that our
+    unhappy correspondence had not been the least of the burthens which
+    lay upon my conscience. I need say no more; those things that must
+    be repented of, must be also reformed.
+    I wish you would think of going back to the Bath. I enclose you
+    here a bill for £50 for clearing yourself at your lodgings, and
+    carrying you down, and hope it will be no surprise to you to add,
+    that on this account only, and not for any offence given me on your
+    side, I can _see you no more_. I will take due care of the child;
+    leave him where he is, or take him with you, as you please. I wish
+    you the like reflections, and that they may be to your advantage.—I
+    am,” etc.
+
+
+I was struck with this letter as with a thousand wounds, such as I
+cannot describe; the reproaches of my own conscience were such as I
+cannot express, for I was not blind to my own crime; and I reflected
+that I might with less offence have continued with my brother, and
+lived with him as a wife, since there was no crime in our marriage on
+that score, neither of us knowing it.
+
+But I never once reflected that I was all this while a married woman, a
+wife to Mr. —— the linen-draper, who, though he had left me by the
+necessity of his circumstances, had no power to discharge me from the
+marriage contract which was between us, or to give me a legal liberty
+to marry again; so that I had been no less than a whore and an
+adulteress all this while. I then reproached myself with the liberties
+I had taken, and how I had been a snare to this gentleman, and that
+indeed I was principal in the crime; that now he was mercifully
+snatched out of the gulf by a convincing work upon his mind, but that I
+was left as if I was forsaken of God’s grace, and abandoned by Heaven
+to a continuing in my wickedness.
+
+Under these reflections I continued very pensive and sad for near
+month, and did not go down to the Bath, having no inclination to be
+with the woman whom I was with before; lest, as I thought, she should
+prompt me to some wicked course of life again, as she had done; and
+besides, I was very loth she should know I was cast off as above.
+
+And now I was greatly perplexed about my little boy. It was death to me
+to part with the child, and yet when I considered the danger of being
+one time or other left with him to keep without a maintenance to
+support him, I then resolved to leave him where he was; but then I
+concluded also to be near him myself too, that I then might have the
+satisfaction of seeing him, without the care of providing for him.
+
+I sent my gentleman a short letter, therefore, that I had obeyed his
+orders in all things but that of going back to the Bath, which I could
+not think of for many reasons; that however parting from him was a
+wound to me that I could never recover, yet that I was fully satisfied
+his reflections were just, and would be very far from desiring to
+obstruct his reformation or repentance.
+
+Then I represented my own circumstances to him in the most moving terms
+that I was able. I told him that those unhappy distresses which first
+moved him to a generous and an honest friendship for me, would, I hope,
+move him to a little concern for me now, though the criminal part of
+our correspondence, which I believed neither of us intended to fall
+into at the time, was broken off; that I desired to repent as sincerely
+as he had done, but entreated him to put me in some condition that I
+might not be exposed to the temptations which the devil never fails to
+excite us to from the frightful prospect of poverty and distress; and
+if he had the least apprehensions of my being troublesome to him, I
+begged he would put me in a posture to go back to my mother in
+Virginia, from when he knew I came, and that would put an end to all
+his fears on that account. I concluded, that if he would send me £50
+more to facilitate my going away, I would send him back a general
+release, and would promise never to disturb him more with any
+importunities; unless it was to hear of the well-doing of the child,
+whom, if I found my mother living and my circumstances able, I would
+send for to come over to me, and take him also effectually off his
+hands.
+
+This was indeed all a cheat thus far, viz. that I had no intention to
+go to Virginia, as the account of my former affairs there may convince
+anybody of; but the business was to get this last £50 of him, if
+possible, knowing well enough it would be the last penny I was ever to
+expect.
+
+However, the argument I used, namely, of giving him a general release,
+and never troubling him any more, prevailed effectually with him, and
+he sent me a bill for the money by a person who brought with him a
+general release for me to sign, and which I frankly signed, and
+received the money; and thus, though full sore against my will, a final
+end was put to this affair.
+
+And here I cannot but reflect upon the unhappy consequence of too great
+freedoms between persons stated as we were, upon the pretence of
+innocent intentions, love of friendship, and the like; for the flesh
+has generally so great a share in those friendships, that is great odds
+but inclination prevails at last over the most solemn resolutions; and
+that vice breaks in at the breaches of decency, which really innocent
+friendship ought to preserve with the greatest strictness. But I leave
+the readers of these things to their own just reflections, which they
+will be more able to make effectual than I, who so soon forgot myself,
+and am therefore but a very indifferent monitor.
+
+I was now a single person again, as I may call myself; I was loosed
+from all the obligations either of wedlock or mistress-ship in the
+world, except my husband the linen-draper, whom, I having not now heard
+from in almost fifteen years, nobody could blame me for thinking myself
+entirely freed from; seeing also he had at his going away told me, that
+if I did not hear frequently from him, I should conclude he was dead,
+and I might freely marry again to whom I pleased.
+
+I now began to cast up my accounts. I had by many letters and much
+importunity, and with the intercession of my mother too, had a second
+return of some goods from my brother (as I now call him) in Virginia,
+to make up the damage of the cargo I brought away with me, and this too
+was upon the condition of my sealing a general release to him, and to
+send it him by his correspondent at Bristol, which, though I thought
+hard of, yet I was obliged to promise to do. However, I managed so well
+in this case, that I got my goods away before the release was signed,
+and then I always found something or other to say to evade the thing,
+and to put off the signing it at all; till at length I pretended I must
+write to my brother, and have his answer, before I could do it.
+
+Including this recruit, and before I got the last £50, I found my
+strength to amount, put all together, to about £400, so that with that
+I had about £450. I had saved above £100 more, but I met with a
+disaster with that, which was this—that a goldsmith in whose hands I
+had trusted it, broke, so I lost £70 of my money, the man’s composition
+not making above £30 out of his £100. I had a little plate, but not
+much, and was well enough stocked with clothes and linen.
+
+With this stock I had the world to begin again; but you are to consider
+that I was not now the same woman as when I lived at Redriff; for,
+first of all, I was near twenty years older, and did not look the
+better for my age, nor for my rambles to Virginia and back again; and
+though I omitted nothing that might set me out to advantage, except
+painting, for that I never stooped to, and had pride enough to think I
+did not want it, yet there would always be some difference seen between
+five-and-twenty and two-and-forty.
+
+I cast about innumerable ways for my future state of life, and began to
+consider very seriously what I should do, but nothing offered. I took
+care to make the world take me for something more than I was, and had
+it given out that I was a fortune, and that my estate was in my own
+hands; the last of which was very true, the first of it was as above. I
+had no acquaintance, which was one of my worst misfortunes, and the
+consequence of that was, I had no adviser, at least who could assist
+and advise together; and above all, I had nobody to whom I could in
+confidence commit the secret of my circumstances to, and could depend
+upon for their secrecy and fidelity; and I found by experience, that to
+be friendless is the worst condition, next to being in want that a
+woman can be reduced to: I say a woman, because ’tis evident men can be
+their own advisers, and their own directors, and know how to work
+themselves out of difficulties and into business better than women; but
+if a woman has no friend to communicate her affairs to, and to advise
+and assist her, ’tis ten to one but she is undone; nay, and the more
+money she has, the more danger she is in of being wronged and deceived;
+and this was my case in the affair of the £100 which I left in the
+hands of the goldsmith, as above, whose credit, it seems, was upon the
+ebb before, but I, that had no knowledge of things and nobody to
+consult with, knew nothing of it, and so lost my money.
+
+In the next place, when a woman is thus left desolate and void of
+counsel, she is just like a bag of money or a jewel dropped on the
+highway, which is a prey to the next comer; if a man of virtue and
+upright principles happens to find it, he will have it cried, and the
+owner may come to hear of it again; but how many times shall such a
+thing fall into hands that will make no scruple of seizing it for their
+own, to once that it shall come into good hands?
+
+This was evidently my case, for I was now a loose, unguided creature,
+and had no help, no assistance, no guide for my conduct; I knew what I
+aimed at and what I wanted, but knew nothing how to pursue the end by
+direct means. I wanted to be placed in a settle state of living, and
+had I happened to meet with a sober, good husband, I should have been
+as faithful and true a wife to him as virtue itself could have formed.
+If I had been otherwise, the vice came in always at the door of
+necessity, not at the door of inclination; and I understood too well,
+by the want of it, what the value of a settled life was, to do anything
+to forfeit the felicity of it; nay, I should have made the better wife
+for all the difficulties I had passed through, by a great deal; nor did
+I in any of the time that I had been a wife give my husbands the least
+uneasiness on account of my behaviour.
+
+But all this was nothing; I found no encouraging prospect. I waited; I
+lived regularly, and with as much frugality as became my circumstances,
+but nothing offered, nothing presented, and the main stock wasted
+apace. What to do I knew not; the terror of approaching poverty lay
+hard upon my spirits. I had some money, but where to place it I knew
+not, nor would the interest of it maintain me, at least not in London.
+
+At length a new scene opened. There was in the house where I lodged a
+north-country woman that went for a gentlewoman, and nothing was more
+frequent in her discourse than her account of the cheapness of
+provisions, and the easy way of living in her country; how plentiful
+and how cheap everything was, what good company they kept, and the
+like; till at last I told her she almost tempted me to go and live in
+her country; for I that was a widow, though I had sufficient to live
+on, yet had no way of increasing it; and that I found I could not live
+here under £100 a year, unless I kept no company, no servant, made no
+appearance, and buried myself in privacy, as if I was obliged to it by
+necessity.
+
+I should have observed, that she was always made to believe, as
+everybody else was, that I was a great fortune, or at least that I had
+three or four thousand pounds, if not more, and all in my own hands;
+and she was mighty sweet upon me when she thought me inclined in the
+least to go into her country. She said she had a sister lived near
+Liverpool, that her brother was a considerable gentleman there, and had
+a great estate also in Ireland; that she would go down there in about
+two months, and if I would give her my company thither, I should be as
+welcome as herself for a month or more as I pleased, till I should see
+how I liked the country; and if I thought fit to live there, she would
+undertake they would take care, though they did not entertain lodgers
+themselves, they would recommend me to some agreeable family, where I
+should be placed to my content.
+
+If this woman had known my real circumstances, she would never have
+laid so many snares, and taken so many weary steps to catch a poor
+desolate creature that was good for little when it was caught; and
+indeed I, whose case was almost desperate, and thought I could not be
+much worse, was not very anxious about what might befall me, provided
+they did me no personal injury; so I suffered myself, though not
+without a great deal of invitation and great professions of sincere
+friendship and real kindness—I say, I suffered myself to be prevailed
+upon to go with her, and accordingly I packed up my baggage, and put
+myself in a posture for a journey, though I did not absolutely know
+whither I was to go.
+
+And now I found myself in great distress; what little I had in the
+world was all in money, except as before, a little plate, some linen,
+and my clothes; as for my household stuff, I had little or none, for I
+had lived always in lodgings; but I had not one friend in the world
+with whom to trust that little I had, or to direct me how to dispose of
+it, and this perplexed me night and day. I thought of the bank, and of
+the other companies in London, but I had no friend to commit the
+management of it to, and keep and carry about with me bank bills,
+tallies, orders, and such things, I looked upon at as unsafe; that if
+they were lost, my money was lost, and then I was undone; and, on the
+other hand, I might be robbed and perhaps murdered in a strange place
+for them. This perplexed me strangely, and what to do I knew not.
+
+It came in my thoughts one morning that I would go to the bank myself,
+where I had often been to receive the interest of some bills I had,
+which had interest payable on them, and where I had found a clerk, to
+whom I applied myself, very honest and just to me, and particularly so
+fair one time that when I had mistold my money, and taken less than my
+due, and was coming away, he set me to rights and gave me the rest,
+which he might have put into his own pocket.
+
+I went to him and represented my case very plainly, and asked if he
+would trouble himself to be my adviser, who was a poor friendless
+widow, and knew not what to do. He told me, if I desired his opinion of
+anything within the reach of his business, he would do his endeavour
+that I should not be wronged, but that he would also help me to a good
+sober person who was a grave man of his acquaintance, who was a clerk
+in such business too, though not in their house, whose judgment was
+good, and whose honesty I might depend upon. “For,” added he, “I will
+answer for him, and for every step he takes; if he wrongs you, madam,
+of one farthing, it shall lie at my door, I will make it good; and he
+delights to assist people in such cases—he does it as an act of
+charity.”
+
+I was a little at a stand in this discourse; but after some pause I
+told him I had rather have depended upon him, because I had found him
+honest, but if that could not be, I would take his recommendation
+sooner than any one’s else. “I dare say, madam,” says he, “that you
+will be as well satisfied with my friend as with me, and he is
+thoroughly able to assist you, which I am not.” It seems he had his
+hands full of the business of the bank, and had engaged to meddle with
+no other business than that of his office, which I heard afterwards,
+but did not understand then. He added, that his friend should take
+nothing of me for his advice or assistance, and this indeed encouraged
+me very much.
+
+He appointed the same evening, after the bank was shut and business
+over, for me to meet him and his friend. And indeed as soon as I saw
+his friend, and he began but to talk of the affair, I was fully
+satisfied that I had a very honest man to deal with; his countenance
+spoke it, and his character, as I heard afterwards, was everywhere so
+good, that I had no room for any more doubts upon me.
+
+After the first meeting, in which I only said what I had said before,
+we parted, and he appointed me to come the next day to him, telling me
+I might in the meantime satisfy myself of him by inquiry, which,
+however, I knew not how well to do, having no acquaintance myself.
+
+Accordingly I met him the next day, when I entered more freely with him
+into my case. I told him my circumstances at large: that I was a widow
+come over from America, perfectly desolate and friendless; that I had a
+little money, and but a little, and was almost distracted for fear of
+losing it, having no friend in the world to trust with the management
+of it; that I was going into the north of England to live cheap, that
+my stock might not waste; that I would willingly lodge my money in the
+bank, but that I durst not carry the bills about me, and the like, as
+above; and how to correspond about it, or with whom, I knew not.
+
+He told me I might lodge the money in the bank as an account, and its
+being entered into the books would entitle me to the money at any time,
+and if I was in the north I might draw bills on the cashier and receive
+it when I would; but that then it would be esteemed as running cash,
+and the bank would give no interest for it; that I might buy stock with
+it, and so it would lie in store for me, but that then if I wanted to
+dispose if it, I must come up to town on purpose to transfer it, and
+even it would be with some difficulty I should receive the half-yearly
+dividend, unless I was here in person, or had some friend I could trust
+with having the stock in his name to do it for me, and that would have
+the same difficulty in it as before; and with that he looked hard at me
+and smiled a little. At last, says he, “Why do you not get a head
+steward, madam, that may take you and your money together into keeping,
+and then you would have the trouble taken off your hands?” “Ay, sir,
+and the money too, it may be,” said I; “for truly I find the hazard
+that way is as much as ’tis t’other way”; but I remember I said
+secretly to myself, “I wish you would ask me the question fairly, I
+would consider very seriously on it before I said No.”
+
+He went on a good way with me, and I thought once or twice he was in
+earnest, but to my real affliction, I found at last he had a wife; but
+when he owned he had a wife he shook his head, and said with some
+concern, that indeed he had a wife, and no wife. I began to think he
+had been in the condition of my late lover, and that his wife had been
+distempered or lunatic, or some such thing. However, we had not much
+more discourse at that time, but he told me he was in too much hurry of
+business then, but that if I would come home to his house after their
+business was over, he would by that time consider what might be done
+for me, to put my affairs in a posture of security. I told him I would
+come, and desired to know where he lived. He gave me a direction in
+writing, and when he gave it me he read it to me, and said, “There
+’tis, madam, if you dare trust yourself with me.” “Yes, sir,” said I,
+“I believe I may venture to trust you with myself, for you have a wife,
+you say, and I don’t want a husband; besides, I dare trust you with my
+money, which is all I have in the world, and if that were gone, I may
+trust myself anywhere.”
+
+He said some things in jest that were very handsome and mannerly, and
+would have pleased me very well if they had been in earnest; but that
+passed over, I took the directions, and appointed to attend him at his
+house at seven o’clock the same evening.
+
+When I came he made several proposals for my placing my money in the
+bank, in order to my having interest for it; but still some difficulty
+or other came in the way, which he objected as not safe; and I found
+such a sincere disinterested honesty in him, that I began to muse with
+myself, that I had certainly found the honest man I wanted, and that I
+could never put myself into better hands; so I told him with a great
+deal of frankness that I had never met with a man or woman yet that I
+could trust, or in whom I could think myself safe, but that I saw he
+was so disinterestedly concerned for my safety, that I said I would
+freely trust him with the management of that little I had, if he would
+accept to be steward for a poor widow that could give him no salary.
+
+He smiled and, standing up, with great respect saluted me. He told me
+he could not but take it very kindly that I had so good an opinion of
+him; that he would not deceive me, that he would do anything in his
+power to serve me, and expect no salary; but that he could not by any
+means accept of a trust, that it might bring him to be suspected of
+self-interest, and that if I should die he might have disputes with my
+executors, which he should be very loth to encumber himself with.
+
+I told him if those were all his objections I would soon remove them,
+and convince him that there was not the least room for any difficulty;
+for that, first, as for suspecting him, if ever I should do it, now is
+the time to suspect him, and not put the trust into his hands, and
+whenever I did suspect him, he could but throw it up then and refuse to
+go any further. Then, as to executors, I assured him I had no heirs,
+nor any relations in England, and I should alter my condition before I
+died, and then his trust and trouble should cease together, which,
+however, I had no prospect of yet; but I told him if I died as I was,
+it should be all his own, and he would deserve it by being so faithful
+to me as I was satisfied he would be.
+
+He changed his countenance at this discourse, and asked me how I came
+to have so much good-will for him; and, looking very much pleased, said
+he might very lawfully wish he was a single man for my sake. I smiled,
+and told him as he was not, my offer could have no design upon him in
+it, and to wish, as he did, was not to be allowed, ’twas criminal to
+his wife.
+
+He told me I was wrong. “For,” says he, “madam, as I said before, I
+have a wife and no wife, and ’twould be no sin to me to wish her
+hanged, if that were all.” “I know nothing of your circumstances that
+way, sir,” said I; “but it cannot be innocent to wish your wife dead.”
+“I tell you,” says he again, “she is a wife and no wife; you don’t know
+what I am, or what she is.”
+
+“That’s true,” said I; “sir, I do not know what you are, but I believe
+you to be an honest man, and that’s the cause of all my confidence in
+you.”
+
+“Well, well,” says he, “and so I am, I hope, too. But I am something
+else too, madam; for,” says he, “to be plain with you, I am a cuckold,
+and she is a whore.” He spoke it in a kind of jest, but it was with
+such an awkward smile, that I perceived it was what struck very close
+to him, and he looked dismally when he said it.
+
+“That alters the case indeed, sir,” said I, “as to that part you were
+speaking of; but a cuckold, you know, may be an honest man; it does not
+alter that case at all. Besides, I think,” said I, “since your wife is
+so dishonest to you, you are too honest to her to own her for your
+wife; but that,” said I, “is what I have nothing to do with.”
+
+“Nay,” says he, “I do not think to clear my hands of her; for, to be
+plain with you, madam,” added he, “I am no contended cuckold neither:
+on the other hand, I assure you it provokes me the highest degree, but
+I can’t help myself; she that will be a whore, will be a whore.”
+
+I waived the discourse and began to talk of my business; but I found he
+could not have done with it, so I let him alone, and he went on to tell
+me all the circumstances of his case, too long to relate here;
+particularly, that having been out of England some time before he came
+to the post he was in, she had had two children in the meantime by an
+officer of the army; and that when he came to England and, upon her
+submission, took her again, and maintained her very well, yet she ran
+away from him with a linen-draper’s apprentice, robbed him of what she
+could come at, and continued to live from him still. “So that, madam,”
+says he, “she is a whore not by necessity, which is the common bait of
+your sex, but by inclination, and for the sake of the vice.”
+
+Well, I pitied him, and wished him well rid of her, and still would
+have talked of my business, but it would not do. At last he looks
+steadily at me. “Look you, madam,” says he, “you came to ask advice of
+me, and I will serve you as faithfully as if you were my own sister;
+but I must turn the tables, since you oblige me to do it, and are so
+friendly to me, and I think I must ask advice of you. Tell me, what
+must a poor abused fellow do with a whore? What can I do to do myself
+justice upon her?”
+
+“Alas! sir,” says I, “’tis a case too nice for me to advise in, but it
+seems she has run away from you, so you are rid of her fairly; what can
+you desire more?” “Ay, she is gone indeed,” said he, “but I am not
+clear of her for all that.”
+
+“That’s true,” says I; “she may indeed run you into debt, but the law
+has furnished you with methods to prevent that also; you may cry her
+down, as they call it.”
+
+“No, no,” says he, “that is not the case neither; I have taken care of
+all that; ’tis not that part that I speak of, but I would be rid of her
+so that I might marry again.”
+
+“Well, sir,” says I, “then you must divorce her. If you can prove what
+you say, you may certainly get that done, and then, I suppose, you are
+free.”
+
+“That’s very tedious and expensive,” says he.
+
+“Why,” says I, “if you can get any woman you like to take your word, I
+suppose your wife would not dispute the liberty with you that she takes
+herself.”
+
+“Ay,” says he, “but ’twould be hard to bring an honest woman to do
+that; and for the other sort,” says he, “I have had enough of her to
+meddle with any more whores.”
+
+It occurred to me presently, “I would have taken your word with all my
+heart, if you had but asked me the question”; but that was to myself.
+To him I replied, “Why, you shut the door against any honest woman
+accepting you, for you condemn all that should venture upon you at
+once, and conclude, that really a woman that takes you now can’t be
+honest.”
+
+“Why,” says he, “I wish you would satisfy me that an honest woman would
+take me; I’d venture it”; and then turns short upon me, “Will you take
+me, madam?”
+
+“That’s not a fair question,” says I, “after what you have said;
+however, lest you should think I wait only for a recantation of it, I
+shall answer you plainly, No, not I; my business is of another kind
+with you, and I did not expect you would have turned my serious
+application to you, in my own distracted case, into a comedy.”
+
+“Why, madam,” says he, “my case is as distracted as yours can be, and I
+stand in as much need of advice as you do, for I think if I have not
+relief somewhere, I shall be made myself, and I know not what course to
+take, I protest to you.”
+
+“Why, sir,” says I, “’tis easy to give advice in your case, much easier
+than it is in mine.” “Speak then,” says he, “I beg of you, for now you
+encourage me.”
+
+“Why,” says I, “if your case is so plain as you say it is, you may be
+legally divorced, and then you may find honest women enough to ask the
+question of fairly; the sex is not so scarce that you can want a wife.”
+
+“Well, then,” said he, “I am in earnest; I’ll take your advice; but
+shall I ask you one question seriously beforehand?”
+
+“Any question,” said I, “but that you did before.”
+
+“No, that answer will not do,” said he, “for, in short, that is the
+question I shall ask.”
+
+“You may ask what questions you please, but you have my answer to that
+already,” said I. “Besides, sir,” said I, “can you think so ill of me
+as that I would give any answer to such a question beforehand? Can any
+woman alive believe you in earnest, or think you design anything but to
+banter her?”
+
+“Well, well,” says he, “I do not banter you, I am in earnest; consider
+of it.”
+
+“But, sir,” says I, a little gravely, “I came to you about my own
+business; I beg of you to let me know, what you will advise me to do?”
+
+“I will be prepared,” says he, “against you come again.”
+
+“Nay,” says I, “you have forbid my coming any more.”
+
+“Why so?” said he, and looked a little surprised.
+
+“Because,” said I, “you can’t expect I should visit you on the account
+you talk of.”
+
+“Well,” says he, “you shall promise me to come again, however, and I
+will not say any more of it till I have gotten the divorce, but I
+desire you will prepare to be better conditioned when that’s done, for
+you shall be the woman, or I will not be divorced at all; why, I owe it
+to your unlooked-for kindness, if it were to nothing else, but I have
+other reasons too.”
+
+He could not have said anything in the world that pleased me better;
+however, I knew that the way to secure him was to stand off while the
+thing was so remote, as it appeared to be, and that it was time enough
+to accept of it when he was able to perform it; so I said very
+respectfully to him, it was time enough to consider of these things
+when he was in a condition to talk of them; in the meantime, I told
+him, I was going a great way from him, and he would find objects enough
+to please him better. We broke off here for the present, and he made me
+promise him to come again the next day, for his resolutions upon my own
+business, which after some pressing I did; though had he seen farther
+into me, I wanted no pressing on that account.
+
+I came the next evening, accordingly, and brought my maid with me, to
+let him see that I kept a maid, but I sent her away as soon as I was
+gone in. He would have had me let the maid have stayed, but I would
+not, but ordered her aloud to come for me again about nine o’clock. But
+he forbade that, and told me he would see me safe home, which, by the
+way, I was not very well pleased with, supposing he might do that to
+know where I lived and inquire into my character and circumstances.
+However, I ventured that, for all that the people there or thereabout
+knew of me, was to my advantage; and all the character he had of me,
+after he had inquired, was that I was a woman of fortune, and that I
+was a very modest, sober body; which, whether true or not in the main,
+yet you may see how necessary it is for all women who expect anything
+in the world, to preserve the character of their virtue, even when
+perhaps they may have sacrificed the thing itself.
+
+I found, and was not a little please with it, that he had provided a
+supper for me. I found also he lived very handsomely, and had a house
+very handsomely furnished; all of which I was rejoiced at indeed, for I
+looked upon it as all my own.
+
+We had now a second conference upon the subject-matter of the last
+conference. He laid his business very home indeed; he protested his
+affection to me, and indeed I had no room to doubt it; he declared that
+it began from the first moment I talked with him, and long before I had
+mentioned leaving my effects with him. “’Tis no matter when it began,”
+thought I; “if it will but hold, ’twill be well enough.” He then told
+me how much the offer I had made of trusting him with my effects, and
+leaving them to him, had engaged him. “So I intended it should,”
+thought I, “but then I thought you had been a single man too.” After we
+had supped, I observed he pressed me very hard to drink two or three
+glasses of wine, which, however, I declined, but drank one glass or
+two. He then told me he had a proposal to make to me, which I should
+promise him I would not take ill if I should not grant it. I told him I
+hoped he would make no dishonourable proposal to me, especially in his
+own house, and that if it was such, I desired he would not propose it,
+that I might not be obliged to offer any resentment to him that did not
+become the respect I professed for him, and the trust I had placed in
+him in coming to his house; and begged of him he would give me leave to
+go away, and accordingly began to put on my gloves and prepare to be
+gone, though at the same time I no more intended it than he intended to
+let me.
+
+Well, he importuned me not to talk of going; he assured me he had no
+dishonourable thing in his thoughts about me, and was very far from
+offering anything to me that was dishonourable, and if I thought so, he
+would choose to say no more of it.
+
+That part I did not relish at all. I told him I was ready to hear
+anything that he had to say, depending that he would say nothing
+unworthy of himself, or unfit for me to hear. Upon this, he told me his
+proposal was this: that I would marry him, though he had not yet
+obtained the divorce from the whore his wife; and to satisfy me that he
+meant honourably, he would promise not to desire me to live with him,
+or go to bed with him till the divorce was obtained. My heart said yes
+to this offer at first word, but it was necessary to play the hypocrite
+a little more with him; so I seemed to decline the motion with some
+warmth, and besides a little condemning the thing as unfair, told him
+that such a proposal could be of no signification, but to entangle us
+both in great difficulties; for if he should not at last obtain the
+divorce, yet we could not dissolve the marriage, neither could we
+proceed in it; so that if he was disappointed in the divorce, I left
+him to consider what a condition we should both be in.
+
+In short, I carried on the argument against this so far, that I
+convinced him it was not a proposal that had any sense in it. Well,
+then he went from it to another, and that was, that I would sign and
+seal a contract with him, conditioning to marry him as soon as the
+divorce was obtained, and to be void if he could not obtain it.
+
+I told him such a thing was more rational than the other; but as this
+was the first time that ever I could imagine him weak enough to be in
+earnest in this affair, I did not use to say Yes at first asking; I
+would consider of it.
+
+I played with this lover as an angler does with a trout. I found I had
+him fast on the hook, so I jested with his new proposal, and put him
+off. I told him he knew little of me, and bade him inquire about me; I
+let him also go home with me to my lodging, though I would not ask him
+to go in, for I told him it was not decent.
+
+In short, I ventured to avoid signing a contract of marriage, and the
+reason why I did it was because the lady that had invited me so
+earnestly to go with her into Lancashire insisted so positively upon
+it, and promised me such great fortunes, and such fine things there,
+that I was tempted to go and try. “Perhaps,” said I, “I may mend myself
+very much”; and then I made no scruple in my thoughts of quitting my
+honest citizen, whom I was not so much in love with as not to leave him
+for a richer.
+
+In a word, I avoided a contract; but told him I would go into the
+north, that he should know where to write to me by the consequence of
+the business I had entrusted with him; that I would give him a
+sufficient pledge of my respect for him, for I would leave almost all I
+had in the world in his hands; and I would thus far give him my word,
+that as soon as he had sued out a divorce from his first wife, he would
+send me an account of it, I would come up to London, and that then we
+would talk seriously of the matter.
+
+It was a base design I went with, that I must confess, though I was
+invited thither with a design much worse than mine was, as the sequel
+will discover. Well, I went with my friend, as I called her, into
+Lancashire. All the way we went she caressed me with the utmost
+appearance of a sincere, undissembled affection; treated me, except my
+coach-hire, all the way; and her brother brought a gentleman’s coach to
+Warrington to receive us, and we were carried from thence to Liverpool
+with as much ceremony as I could desire. We were also entertained at a
+merchant’s house in Liverpool three or four days very handsomely; I
+forbear to tell his name, because of what followed. Then she told me
+she would carry me to an uncle’s house of hers, where we should be
+nobly entertained. She did so; her uncle, as she called him, sent a
+coach and four horses for us, and we were carried near forty miles I
+know not whither.
+
+We came, however, to a gentleman’s seat, where was a numerous family, a
+large park, extraordinary company indeed, and where she was called
+cousin. I told her if she had resolved to bring me into such company as
+this, she should have let me have prepared myself, and have furnished
+myself with better clothes. The ladies took notice of that, and told me
+very genteelly they did not value people in their country so much by
+their clothes as they did in London; that their cousin had fully
+informed them of my quality, and that I did not want clothes to set me
+off; in short, they entertained me, not like what I was, but like what
+they thought I had been, namely, a widow lady of a great fortune.
+
+The first discovery I made here was, that the family were all Roman
+Catholics, and the cousin too, whom I called my friend; however, I must
+say that nobody in the world could behave better to me, and I had all
+the civility shown me that I could have had if I had been of their
+opinion. The truth is, I had not so much principle of any kind as to be
+nice in point of religion, and I presently learned to speak favourably
+of the Romish Church; particularly, I told them I saw little but the
+prejudice of education in all the difference that were among Christians
+about religion, and if it had so happened that my father had been a
+Roman Catholic, I doubted not but I should have been as well pleased
+with their religion as my own.
+
+This obliged them in the highest degree, and as I was besieged day and
+night with good company and pleasant discourse, so I had two or three
+old ladies that lay at me upon the subject of religion too. I was so
+complaisant, that though I would not completely engage, yet I made no
+scruple to be present at their mass, and to conform to all their
+gestures as they showed me the pattern, but I would not come too cheap;
+so that I only in the main encouraged them to expect that I would turn
+Roman Catholic, if I was instructed in the Catholic doctrine as they
+called it, and so the matter rested.
+
+I stayed here about six weeks; and then my conductor led me back to a
+country village, about six miles from Liverpool, where her brother (as
+she called him) came to visit me in his own chariot, and in a very good
+figure, with two footmen in a good livery; and the next thing was to
+make love to me. As it had happened to me, one would think I could not
+have been cheated, and indeed I thought so myself, having a safe card
+at home, which I resolved not to quit unless I could mend myself very
+much. However, in all appearance this brother was a match worth my
+listening to, and the least his estate was valued at was £1000 a year,
+but the sister said it was worth £1500 a year, and lay most of it in
+Ireland.
+
+I that was a great fortune, and passed for such, was above being asked
+how much my estate was; and my false friend taking it upon a foolish
+hearsay, had raised it from £500 to £5000, and by the time she came
+into the country she called it £15,000. The Irishman, for such I
+understood him to be, was stark mad at this bait; in short, he courted
+me, made me presents, and ran in debt like a madman for the expenses of
+his equipage and of his courtship. He had, to give him his due, the
+appearance of an extraordinary fine gentleman; he was tall,
+well-shaped, and had an extraordinary address; talked as naturally of
+his park and his stables, of his horses, his gamekeepers, his woods,
+his tenants, and his servants, as if we had been in the mansion-house,
+and I had seen them all about me.
+
+He never so much as asked me about my fortune or estate, but assured me
+that when we came to Dublin he would jointure me in £600 a year good
+land; and that we could enter into a deed of settlement or contract
+here for the performance of it.
+
+This was such language indeed as I had not been used to, and I was here
+beaten out of all my measures; I had a she-devil in my bosom, every
+hour telling me how great her brother lived. One time she would come
+for my orders, how I would have my coaches painted, and how lined; and
+another time what clothes my page should wear; in short, my eyes were
+dazzled. I had now lost my power of saying No, and, to cut the story
+short, I consented to be married; but to be the more private, we were
+carried farther into the country, and married by a Romish clergyman,
+who I was assured would marry us as effectually as a Church of England
+parson.
+
+I cannot say but I had some reflections in this affair upon the
+dishonourable forsaking my faithful citizen, who loved me sincerely,
+and who was endeavouring to quit himself of a scandalous whore by whom
+he had been indeed barbarously used, and promised himself infinite
+happiness in his new choice; which choice was now giving up herself to
+another in a manner almost as scandalous as hers could be.
+
+But the glittering shoe of a great estate, and of fine things, which
+the deceived creature that was now my deceiver represented every hour
+to my imagination, hurried me away, and gave me no time to think of
+London, or of anything there, much less of the obligation I had to a
+person of infinitely more real merit than what was now before me.
+
+But the thing was done; I was now in the arms of my new spouse, who
+appeared still the same as before; great even to magnificence, and
+nothing less than £1000 a year could support the ordinary equipage he
+appeared in.
+
+After we had been married about a month, he began to talk of my going
+to West Chester in order to embark for Ireland. However, he did not
+hurry me, for we stayed near three weeks longer, and then he sent to
+Chester for a coach to meet us at the Black Rock, as they call it, over
+against Liverpool. Thither we went in a fine boat they call a pinnace,
+with six oars; his servants, and horses, and baggage going in the
+ferry-boat. He made his excuse to me that he had no acquaintance in
+Chester, but he would go before and get some handsome apartment for me
+at a private house. I asked him how long we should stay at Chester. He
+said, not at all, any longer than one night or two, but he would
+immediately hire a coach to go to Holyhead. Then I told him he should
+by no means give himself the trouble to get private lodgings for one
+night or two, for that Chester being a great place, I made no doubt but
+there would be very good inns and accommodation enough; so we lodged at
+an inn in the West Street, not far from the Cathedral; I forget what
+sign it was at.
+
+Here my spouse, talking of my going to Ireland, asked me if I had no
+affairs to settle at London before we went off. I told him No, not of
+any great consequence, but what might be done as well by letter from
+Dublin. “Madam,” says he, very respectfully, “I suppose the greatest
+part of your estate, which my sister tells me is most of it in money in
+the Bank of England, lies secure enough, but in case it required
+transferring, or any way altering its property, it might be necessary
+to go up to London and settle those things before we went over.”
+
+I seemed to look strange at it, and told him I knew not what he meant;
+that I had no effects in the Bank of England that I knew of; and I
+hoped he could not say that I had ever told him I had. No, he said, I
+had not told him so, but his sister had said the greatest part of my
+estate lay there. “And I only mentioned it, me dear,” said he, “that if
+there was any occasion to settle it, or order anything about it, we
+might not be obliged to the hazard and trouble of another voyage back
+again”; for he added, that he did not care to venture me too much upon
+the sea.
+
+I was surprised at this talk, and began to consider very seriously what
+the meaning of it must be; and it presently occurred to me that my
+friend, who called him brother, had represented me in colours which
+were not my due; and I thought, since it was come to that pitch, that I
+would know the bottom of it before I went out of England, and before I
+should put myself into I knew not whose hands in a strange country.
+
+Upon this I called his sister into my chamber the next morning, and
+letting her know the discourse her brother and I had been upon the
+evening before, I conjured her to tell me what she had said to him, and
+upon what foot it was that she had made this marriage. She owned that
+she had told him that I was a great fortune, and said that she was told
+so at London. “Told so!” says I warmly; “did I ever tell you so?” No,
+she said, it was true I did not tell her so, but I had said several
+times that what I had was in my own disposal. “I did so,” returned I
+very quickly and hastily, “but I never told you I had anything called a
+fortune; no, not that I had £100, or the value of £100, in the world.
+Any how did it consist with my being a fortune,” said I, “that I should
+come here into the north of England with you, only upon the account of
+living cheap?” At these words, which I spoke warm and high, my husband,
+her brother (as she called him), came into the room, and I desired him
+to come and sit down, for I had something of moment to say before them
+both, which it was absolutely necessary he should hear.
+
+He looked a little disturbed at the assurance with which I seemed to
+speak it, and came and sat down by me, having first shut the door; upon
+which I began, for I was very much provoked, and turning myself to him,
+“I am afraid,” says I, “my dear” (for I spoke with kindness on his
+side), “that you have a very great abuse put upon you, and an injury
+done you never to be repaired in your marrying me, which, however, as I
+have had no hand in it, I desire I may be fairly acquitted of it, and
+that the blame may lie where it ought to lie, and nowhere else, for I
+wash my hands of every part of it.”
+
+“What injury can be done me, my dear,” says he, “in marrying you. I
+hope it is to my honour and advantage every way.” “I will soon explain
+it to you,” says I, “and I fear you will have no reason to think
+yourself well used; but I will convince you, my dear,” says I again,
+“that I have had no hand in it”; and there I stopped a while.
+
+He looked now scared and wild, and began, I believe, to suspect what
+followed; however, looking towards me, and saying only, “Go on,” he sat
+silent, as if to hear what I had more to say; so I went on. “I asked
+you last night,” said I, speaking to him, “if ever I made any boast to
+you of my estate, or ever told you I had any estate in the Bank of
+England or anywhere else, and you owned I had not, as is most true; and
+I desire you will tell me here, before your sister, if ever I gave you
+any reason from me to think so, or that ever we had any discourse about
+it”; and he owned again I had not, but said I had appeared always as a
+woman of fortune, and he depended on it that I was so, and hoped he was
+not deceived. “I am not inquiring yet whether you have been deceived or
+not,” said I; “I fear you have, and I too; but I am clearing myself
+from the unjust charge of being concerned in deceiving you.
+
+“I have been now asking your sister if ever I told her of any fortune
+or estate I had, or gave her any particulars of it; and she owns I
+never did. Any pray, madam,” said I, turning myself to her, “be so just
+to me, before your brother, to charge me, if you can, if ever I
+pretended to you that I had an estate; and why, if I had, should I come
+down into this country with you on purpose to spare that little I had,
+and live cheap?” She could not deny one word, but said she had been
+told in London that I had a very great fortune, and that it lay in the
+Bank of England.
+
+“And now, dear sir,” said I, turning myself to my new spouse again, “be
+so just to me as to tell me who has abused both you and me so much as
+to make you believe I was a fortune, and prompt you to court me to this
+marriage?” He could not speak a word, but pointed to her; and, after
+some more pause, flew out in the most furious passion that ever I saw a
+man in my life, cursing her, and calling her all the whores and hard
+names he could think of; and that she had ruined him, declaring that
+she had told him I had £15,000, and that she was to have £500 of him
+for procuring this match for him. He then added, directing his speech
+to me, that she was none of his sister, but had been his whore for two
+years before, that she had had £100 of him in part of this bargain, and
+that he was utterly undone if things were as I said; and in his raving
+he swore he would let her heart’s blood out immediately, which
+frightened her and me too. She cried, said she had been told so in the
+house where I lodged. But this aggravated him more than before, that
+she should put so far upon him, and run things such a length upon no
+other authority than a hearsay; and then, turning to me again, said
+very honestly, he was afraid we were both undone. “For, to be plain, my
+dear, I have no estate,” says he; “what little I had, this devil has
+made me run out in waiting on you and putting me into this equipage.”
+She took the opportunity of his being earnest in talking with me, and
+got out of the room, and I never saw her more.
+
+I was confounded now as much as he, and knew not what to say. I thought
+many ways that I had the worst of it, but his saying he was undone, and
+that he had no estate neither, put me into a mere distraction. “Why,”
+says I to him, “this has been a hellish juggle, for we are married here
+upon the foot of a double fraud; you are undone by the disappointment,
+it seems; and if I had had a fortune I had been cheated too, for you
+say you have nothing.”
+
+“You would indeed have been cheated, my dear,” says he, “but you would
+not have been undone, for £15,000 would have maintained us both very
+handsomely in this country; and I assure you,” added he, “I had
+resolved to have dedicated every groat of it to you; I would not have
+wronged you of a shilling, and the rest I would have made up in my
+affection to you, and tenderness of you, as long as I lived.”
+
+This was very honest indeed, and I really believe he spoke as he
+intended, and that he was a man that was as well qualified to make me
+happy, as to his temper and behaviour, as any man ever was; but his
+having no estate, and being run into debt on this ridiculous account in
+the country, made all the prospect dismal and dreadful, and I knew not
+what to say, or what to think of myself.
+
+I told him it was very unhappy that so much love, and so much good
+nature as I discovered in him, should be thus precipitated into misery;
+that I saw nothing before us but ruin; for as to me, it was my
+unhappiness that what little I had was not able to relieve us week, and
+with that I pulled out a bank bill of £20 and eleven guineas, which I
+told him I had saved out of my little income, and that by the account
+that creature had given me of the way of living in that country, I
+expected it would maintain me three or four years; that if it was taken
+from me, I was left destitute, and he knew what the condition of a
+woman among strangers must be, if she had no money in her pocket;
+however, I told him, if he would take it, there it was.
+
+He told me with a great concern, and I thought I saw tears stand in his
+eyes, that he would not touch it; that he abhorred the thoughts of
+stripping me and make me miserable; that, on the contrary, he had fifty
+guineas left, which was all he had in the world, and he pulled it out
+and threw it down on the table, bidding me take it, though he were to
+starve for want of it.
+
+I returned, with the same concern for him, that I could not bear to
+hear him talk so; that, on the contrary, if he could propose any
+probable method of living, I would do anything that became me on my
+part, and that I would live as close and as narrow as he could desire.
+
+He begged of me to talk no more at that rate, for it would make him
+distracted; he said he was bred a gentleman, though he was reduced to a
+low fortune, and that there was but one way left which he could think
+of, and that would not do, unless I could answer him one question,
+which, however, he said he would not press me to. I told him I would
+answer it honestly; whether it would be to his satisfaction or not,
+that I could not tell.
+
+“Why, then, my dear, tell me plainly,” says he, “will the little you
+have keep us together in any figure, or in any station or place, or
+will it not?”
+
+It was my happiness hitherto that I had not discovered myself or my
+circumstances at all—no, not so much as my name; and seeing these was
+nothing to be expected from him, however good-humoured and however
+honest he seemed to be, but to live on what I knew would soon be
+wasted, I resolved to conceal everything but the bank bill and the
+eleven guineas which I had owned; and I would have been very glad to
+have lost that and have been set down where he took me up. I had indeed
+another bank bill about me of £30, which was the whole of what I
+brought with me, as well to subsist on in the country, as not knowing
+what might offer; because this creature, the go-between that had thus
+betrayed us both, had made me believe strange things of my marrying to
+my advantage in the country, and I was not willing to be without money,
+whatever might happen. This bill I concealed, and that made me the
+freer of the rest, in consideration of his circumstances, for I really
+pitied him heartily.
+
+But to return to his question, I told him I never willingly deceived
+him, and I never would. I was very sorry to tell him that the little I
+had would not subsist us; that it was not sufficient to subsist me
+alone in the south country, and that this was the reason that made me
+put myself into the hands of that woman who called him brother, she
+having assured me that I might board very handsomely at a town called
+Manchester, where I had not yet been, for about £6 a year; and my whole
+income not being about £15 a year, I thought I might live easy upon it,
+and wait for better things.
+
+He shook his head and remained silent, and a very melancholy evening we
+had; however, we supped together, and lay together that night, and when
+we had almost supped he looked a little better and more cheerful, and
+called for a bottle of wine. “Come, my dear,” says he, “though the case
+is bad, it is to no purpose to be dejected. Come, be as easy as you
+can; I will endeavour to find out some way or other to live; if you can
+but subsist yourself, that is better than nothing. I must try the world
+again; a man ought to think like a man; to be discouraged is to yield
+to the misfortune.” With this he filled a glass and drank to me,
+holding my hand and pressing it hard in his hand all the while the wine
+went down, and protesting afterwards his main concern was for me.
+
+It was really a true, gallant spirit he was of, and it was the more
+grievous to me. ’Tis something of relief even to be undone by a man of
+honour, rather than by a scoundrel; but here the greatest
+disappointment was on his side, for he had really spent a great deal of
+money, deluded by this madam the procuress; and it was very remarkable
+on what poor terms he proceeded. First the baseness of the creature
+herself is to be observed, who, for the getting £100 herself, could be
+content to let him spend three or four more, though perhaps it was all
+he had in the world, and more than all; when she had not the least
+ground, more than a little tea-table chat, to say that I had any
+estate, or was a fortune, or the like. It is true the design of
+deluding a woman of fortune, if I had been so, was base enough; the
+putting the face of great things upon poor circumstances was a fraud,
+and bad enough; but the case a little differed too, and that in his
+favour, for he was not a rake that made a trade to delude women, and,
+as some have done, get six or seven fortunes after one another, and
+then rifle and run away from them; but he was really a gentleman,
+unfortunate and low, but had lived well; and though, if I had had a
+fortune, I should have been enraged at the slut for betraying me, yet
+really for the man, a fortune would not have been ill bestowed on him,
+for he was a lovely person indeed, of generous principles, good sense,
+and of abundance of good-humour.
+
+We had a great deal of close conversation that night, for we neither of
+us slept much; he was as penitent for having put all those cheats upon
+me as if it had been felony, and that he was going to execution; he
+offered me again every shilling of the money he had about him, and said
+he would go into the army and seek the world for more.
+
+I asked him why he would be so unkind to carry me into Ireland, when I
+might suppose he could not have subsisted me there. He took me in his
+arms. “My dear,” said he, “depend upon it, I never designed to go to
+Ireland at all, much less to have carried you thither, but came hither
+to be out of the observation of the people, who had heard what I
+pretended to, and withal, that nobody might ask me for money before I
+was furnished to supply them.”
+
+“But where, then,” said I, “were we to have gone next?”
+
+“Why, my dear,” said he, “I’ll confess the whole scheme to you as I had
+laid it; I purposed here to ask you something about your estate, as you
+see I did, and when you, as I expected you would, had entered into some
+account with me of the particulars, I would have made an excuse to you
+to have put off our voyage to Ireland for some time, and to have gone
+first towards London.
+
+“Then, my dear,” said he, “I resolved to have confessed all the
+circumstances of my own affairs to you, and let you know I had indeed
+made use of these artifices to obtain your consent to marry me, but had
+now nothing to do but ask to your pardon, and to tell you how
+abundantly, as I have said above, I would endeavour to make you forget
+what was past, by the felicity of the days to come.”
+
+“Truly,” said I to him, “I find you would soon have conquered me; and
+it is my affliction now, that I am not in a condition to let you see
+how easily I should have been reconciled to you, and have passed by all
+the tricks you had put upon me, in recompense of so much good-humour.
+But, my dear,” said I, “what can we do now? We are both undone, and
+what better are we for our being reconciled together, seeing we have
+nothing to live on?”
+
+We proposed a great many things, but nothing could offer where there
+was nothing to begin with. He begged me at last to talk no more of it,
+for, he said, I would break his heart; so we talked of other things a
+little, till at last he took a husband’s leave of me, and so we went to
+sleep.
+
+He rose before me in the morning; and indeed, having lain awake almost
+all night, I was very sleepy, and lay till near eleven o’clock. In this
+time he took his horses and three servants, and all his linen and
+baggage, and away he went, leaving a short but moving letter for me on
+the table, as follows:—
+
+“MY DEAR—I am a dog; I have abused you; but I have been drawn into do
+it by a base creature, contrary to my principle and the general
+practice of my life. Forgive me, my dear! I ask your pardon with the
+greatest sincerity; I am the most miserable of men, in having deluded
+you. I have been so happy to possess you, and now am so wretched as to
+be forced to fly from you. Forgive me, my dear; once more I say,
+forgive me! I am not able to see you ruined by me, and myself unable to
+support you. Our marriage is nothing; I shall never be able to see you
+again; I here discharge you from it; if you can marry to your
+advantage, do not decline it on my account; I here swear to you on my
+faith, and on the word of a man of honour, I will never disturb your
+repose if I should know of it, which, however, is not likely. On the
+other hand, if you should not marry, and if good fortune should befall
+me, it shall be all yours, wherever you are.
+    ’I have put some of the stock of money I have left into your
+    pocket; take places for yourself and your maid in the stage-coach,
+    and go for London; I hope it will bear your charges thither,
+    without breaking into your own. Again I sincerely ask your pardon,
+    and will do so as often as I shall ever think of you.
+        Adieu, my dear, for ever,
+            I am, your most affectionately,
+                J.E.”
+
+
+Nothing that ever befell me in my life sank so deep into my heart as
+this farewell. I reproached him a thousand times in my thoughts for
+leaving me, for I would have gone with him through the world, if I had
+begged my bread. I felt in my pocket, and there found ten guineas, his
+gold watch, and two little rings, one a small diamond ring worth only
+about £6, and the other a plain gold ring.
+
+I sat me down and looked upon these things two hours together, and
+scarce spoke a word, till my maid interrupted me by telling me my
+dinner was ready. I ate but little, and after dinner I fell into a
+vehement fit of crying, every now and then calling him by his name,
+which was James. “O Jemmy!” said I, “come back, come back. I’ll give
+you all I have; I’ll beg, I’ll starve with you.” And thus I ran raving
+about the room several times, and then sat down between whiles, and
+then walking about again, called upon him to come back, and then cried
+again; and thus I passed the afternoon, till about seven o’clock, when
+it was near dusk, in the evening, being August, when, to my unspeakable
+surprise, he comes back into the inn, but without a servant, and comes
+directly up into my chamber.
+
+I was in the greatest confusion imaginable, and so was he too. I could
+not imagine what should be the occasion of it, and began to be at odds
+with myself whether to be glad or sorry; but my affection biassed all
+the rest, and it was impossible to conceal my joy, which was too great
+for smiles, for it burst out into tears. He was no sooner entered the
+room but he ran to me and took me in his arms, holding me fast, and
+almost stopping my breath with his kisses, but spoke not a word. At
+length I began. “My dear,” said I, “how could you go away from me?” to
+which he gave no answer, for it was impossible for him to speak.
+
+When our ecstasies were a little over, he told me he was gone about
+fifteen miles, but it was not in his power to go any farther without
+coming back to see me again, and to take his leave of me once more.
+
+I told him how I had passed my time, and how loud I had called him to
+come back again. He told me he heard me very plain upon Delamere
+Forest, at a place about twelve miles off. I smiled. “Nay,” says he,
+“do not think I am in jest, for if ever I heard your voice in my life,
+I heard you call me aloud, and sometimes I thought I saw you running
+after me.” “Why,” said I, “what did I say?”—for I had not named the
+words to him. “You called aloud,” says he, “and said, O Jemmy! O Jemmy!
+come back, come back.”
+
+I laughed at him. “My dear,” says he, “do not laugh, for, depend upon
+it, I heard your voice as plain as you hear mine now; if you please,
+I’ll go before a magistrate and make oath of it.” I then began to be
+amazed and surprised, and indeed frightened, and told him what I had
+really done, and how I had called after him, as above.
+
+When we had amused ourselves a while about this, I said to him: “Well,
+you shall go away from me no more; I’ll go all over the world with you
+rather.” He told me it would be a very difficult thing for him to leave
+me, but since it must be, he hoped I would make it as easy to me as I
+could; but as for him, it would be his destruction that he foresaw.
+
+However, he told me that he considered he had left me to travel to
+London alone, which was too long a journey; and that as he might as
+well go that way as any way else, he was resolved to see me safe
+thither, or near it; and if he did go away then without taking his
+leave, I should not take it ill of him; and this he made me promise.
+
+He told me how he had dismissed his three servants, sold their horses,
+and sent the fellows away to seek their fortunes, and all in a little
+time, at a town on the road, I know not where. “And,” says he, “it cost
+me some tears all alone by myself, to think how much happier they were
+than their master, for they could go to the next gentleman’s house to
+see for a service, whereas,” said he, “I knew not wither to go, or what
+to do with myself.”
+
+I told him I was so completely miserable in parting with him, that I
+could not be worse; and that now he was come again, I would not go from
+him, if he would take me with him, let him go whither he would, or do
+what he would. And in the meantime I agreed that we would go together
+to London; but I could not be brought to consent he should go away at
+last and not take his leave of me, as he proposed to do; but told him,
+jesting, that if he did, I would call him back again as loud as I did
+before. Then I pulled out his watch and gave it him back, and his two
+rings, and his ten guineas; but he would not take them, which made me
+very much suspect that he resolved to go off upon the road and leave
+me.
+
+The truth is, the circumstances he was in, the passionate expressions
+of his letter, the kind, gentlemanly treatment I had from him in all
+the affair, with the concern he showed for me in it, his manner of
+parting with that large share which he gave me of his little stock
+left—all these had joined to make such impressions on me, that I really
+loved him most tenderly, and could not bear the thoughts of parting
+with him.
+
+Two days after this we quitted Chester, I in the stage-coach, and he on
+horseback. I dismissed my maid at Chester. He was very much against my
+being without a maid, but she being a servant hired in the country, and
+I resolving to keep no servant at London, I told him it would have been
+barbarous to have taken the poor wench and have turned her away as soon
+as I came to town; and it would also have been a needless charge on the
+road, so I satisfied him, and he was easy enough on the score.
+
+He came with me as far as Dunstable, within thirty miles of London, and
+then he told me fate and his own misfortunes obliged him to leave me,
+and that it was not convenient for him to go to London, for reasons
+which it was of no value to me to know, and I saw him preparing to go.
+The stage-coach we were in did not usually stop at Dunstable, but I
+desiring it but for a quarter of an hour, they were content to stand at
+an inn-door a while, and we went into the house.
+
+Being in the inn, I told him I had but one favour more to ask of him,
+and that was, that since he could not go any farther, he would give me
+leave to stay a week or two in the town with him, that we might in that
+time think of something to prevent such a ruinous thing to us both, as
+a final separation would be; and that I had something of moment to
+offer him, that I had never said yet, and which perhaps he might find
+practicable to our mutual advantage.
+
+This was too reasonable a proposal to be denied, so he called the
+landlady of the house, and told her his wife was taken ill, and so ill
+that she could not think of going any farther in the stage-coach, which
+had tired her almost to death, and asked if she could not get us a
+lodging for two or three days in a private house, where I might rest me
+a little, for the journey had been too much for me. The landlady, a
+good sort of woman, well-bred and very obliging, came immediately to
+see me; told me she had two or three very good rooms in a part of the
+house quite out of the noise, and if I saw them, she did not doubt but
+I would like them, and I should have one of her maids, that should do
+nothing else but be appointed to wait on me. This was so very kind,
+that I could not but accept of it, and thank her; so I went to look on
+the rooms and liked them very well, and indeed they were
+extraordinarily furnished, and very pleasant lodgings; so we paid the
+stage-coach, took out our baggage, and resolved to stay here a while.
+
+Here I told him I would live with him now till all my money was spent,
+but would not let him spend a shilling of his own. We had some kind
+squabble about that, but I told him it was the last time I was like to
+enjoy his company, and I desired he would let me be master in that
+thing only, and he should govern in everything else; so he acquiesced.
+
+Here one evening, taking a walk into the fields, I told him I would now
+make the proposal to him I had told him of; accordingly I related to
+him how I had lived in Virginia, that I had a mother I believed was
+alive there still, though my husband was dead some years. I told him
+that had not my effects miscarried, which, by the way, I magnified
+pretty much, I might have been fortune good enough to him to have kept
+us from being parted in this manner. Then I entered into the manner of
+peoples going over to those countries to settle, how they had a
+quantity of land given them by the Constitution of the place; and if
+not, that it might be purchased at so easy a rate this it was not worth
+naming.
+
+I then gave him a full and distinct account of the nature of planting;
+how with carrying over but two or three hundred pounds value in English
+goods, with some servants and tools, a man of application would
+presently lay a foundation for a family, and in a very few years be
+certain to raise an estate.
+
+I let him into the nature of the product of the earth; how the ground
+was cured and prepared, and what the usual increase of it was; and
+demonstrated to him, that in a very few years, with such a beginning,
+we should be as certain of being rich as we were now certain of being
+poor.
+
+He was surprised at my discourse; for we made it the whole subject of
+our conversation for near a week together, in which time I laid it down
+in black and white, as we say, that it was morally impossible, with a
+supposition of any reasonable good conduct, but that we must thrive
+there and do very well.
+
+Then I told him what measures I would take to raise such a sum of £300
+or thereabouts; and I argued with him how good a method it would be to
+put an end to our misfortunes and restore our circumstances in the
+world, to what we had both expected; and I added, that after seven
+years, if we lived, we might be in a posture to leave our plantations
+in good hands, and come over again and receive the income of it, and
+live here and enjoy it; and I gave him examples of some that had done
+so, and lived now in very good circumstances in London.
+
+In short, I pressed him so to it, that he almost agreed to it, but
+still something or other broke it off again; till at last he turned the
+tables, and he began to talk almost to the same purpose of Ireland.
+
+He told me that a man that could confine himself to country life, and
+that could find but stock to enter upon any land, should have farms
+there for £50 a year, as good as were here let for £200 a year; that
+the produce was such, and so rich the land, that if much was not laid
+up, we were sure to live as handsomely upon it as a gentleman of £3000
+a year could do in England and that he had laid a scheme to leave me in
+London, and go over and try; and if he found he could lay a handsome
+foundation of living suitable to the respect he had for me, as he
+doubted not he should do, he would come over and fetch me.
+
+I was dreadfully afraid that upon such a proposal he would have taken
+me at my word, viz. to sell my little income as I called it, and turn
+it into money, and let him carry it over into Ireland and try his
+experiment with it; but he was too just to desire it, or to have
+accepted it if I had offered it; and he anticipated me in that, for he
+added, that he would go and try his fortune that way, and if he found
+he could do anything at it to live, then, by adding mine to it when I
+went over, we should live like ourselves; but that he would not hazard
+a shilling of mine till he had made the experiment with a little, and
+he assured me that if he found nothing to be done in Ireland, he would
+then come to me and join in my project for Virginia.
+
+He was so earnest upon his project being to be tried first, that I
+could not withstand him; however, he promised to let me hear from him
+in a very little time after his arriving there, to let me know whether
+his prospect answered his design, that if there was not a possibility
+of success, I might take the occasion to prepare for our other voyage,
+and then, he assured me, he would go with me to America with all his
+heart.
+
+I could bring him to nothing further than this. However, those
+consultations entertained us near a month, during which I enjoyed his
+company, which indeed was the most entertaining that ever I met in my
+life before. In this time he let me into the whole story of his own
+life, which was indeed surprising, and full of an infinite variety
+sufficient to fill up a much brighter history, for its adventures and
+incidents, than any I ever saw in print; but I shall have occasion to
+say more of him hereafter.
+
+We parted at last, though with the utmost reluctance on my side; and
+indeed he took his leave very unwillingly too, but necessity obliged
+him, for his reasons were very good why he would not come to London, as
+I understood more fully some time afterwards.
+
+I gave him a direction how to write to me, though still I reserved the
+grand secret, and never broke my resolution, which was not to let him
+ever know my true name, who I was, or where to be found; he likewise
+let me know how to write a letter to him, so that, he said, he would be
+sure to receive it.
+
+I came to London the next day after we parted, but did not go directly
+to my old lodgings; but for another nameless reason took a private
+lodging in St. John’s Street, or, as it is vulgarly called, St.
+Jones’s, near Clerkenwell; and here, being perfectly alone, I had
+leisure to sit down and reflect seriously upon the last seven months’
+ramble I had made, for I had been abroad no less. The pleasant hours I
+had with my last husband I looked back on with an infinite deal of
+pleasure; but that pleasure was very much lessened when I found some
+time after that I was really with child.
+
+This was a perplexing thing, because of the difficulty which was before
+me where I should get leave to lie in; it being one of the nicest
+things in the world at that time of day for a woman that was a
+stranger, and had no friends, to be entertained in that circumstance
+without security, which, by the way, I had not, neither could I procure
+any.
+
+I had taken care all this while to preserve a correspondence with my
+honest friend at the bank, or rather he took care to correspond with
+me, for he wrote to me once a week; and though I had not spent my money
+so fast as to want any from him, yet I often wrote also to let him know
+I was alive. I had left directions in Lancashire, so that I had these
+letters, which he sent, conveyed to me; and during my recess at St.
+Jones’s received a very obliging letter from him, assuring me that his
+process for a divorce from his wife went on with success, though he met
+with some difficulties in it that he did not expect.
+
+I was not displeased with the news that his process was more tedious
+than he expected; for though I was in no condition to have him yet, not
+being so foolish to marry him when I knew myself to be with child by
+another man, as some I know have ventured to do, yet I was not willing
+to lose him, and, in a word, resolved to have him if he continued in
+the same mind, as soon as I was up again; for I saw apparently I should
+hear no more from my husband; and as he had all along pressed to marry,
+and had assured me he would not be at all disgusted at it, or ever
+offer to claim me again, so I made no scruple to resolve to do it if I
+could, and if my other friend stood to his bargain; and I had a great
+deal of reason to be assured that he would stand to it, by the letters
+he wrote to me, which were the kindest and most obliging that could be.
+
+I now grew big, and the people where I lodged perceived it, and began
+to take notice of it to me, and, as far as civility would allow,
+intimated that I must think of removing. This put me to extreme
+perplexity, and I grew very melancholy, for indeed I knew not what
+course to take. I had money, but no friends, and was like to have a
+child upon my hands to keep, which was a difficulty I had never had
+upon me yet, as the particulars of my story hitherto make appear.
+
+In the course of this affair I fell very ill, and my melancholy really
+increased my distemper; my illness proved at length to be only an ague,
+but my apprehensions were really that I should miscarry. I should not
+say apprehensions, for indeed I would have been glad to miscarry, but I
+could never be brought to entertain so much as a thought of
+endeavouring to miscarry, or of taking any thing to make me miscarry; I
+abhorred, I say, so much as the thought of it.
+
+However, speaking of it in the house, the gentlewoman who kept the
+house proposed to me to send for a midwife. I scrupled it at first, but
+after some time consented to it, but told her I had no particular
+acquaintance with any midwife, and so left it to her.
+
+It seems the mistress of the house was not so great a stranger to such
+cases as mine was as I thought at first she had been, as will appear
+presently, and she sent for a midwife of the right sort—that is to say,
+the right sort for me.
+
+The woman appeared to be an experienced woman in her business, I mean
+as a midwife; but she had another calling too, in which she was as
+expert as most women if not more. My landlady had told her I was very
+melancholy, and that she believed that had done me harm; and once,
+before me, said to her, “Mrs. B——” (meaning the midwife), “I believe
+this lady’s trouble is of a kind that is pretty much in your way, and
+therefore if you can do anything for her, pray do, for she is a very
+civil gentlewoman”; and so she went out of the room.
+
+I really did not understand her, but my Mother Midnight began very
+seriously to explain what she meant, as soon as she was gone. “Madam,”
+says she, “you seem not to understand what your landlady means; and
+when you do understand it, you need not let her know at all that you do
+so.
+
+“She means that you are under some circumstances that may render your
+lying in difficult to you, and that you are not willing to be exposed.
+I need say no more, but to tell you, that if you think fit to
+communicate so much of your case to me, if it be so, as is necessary,
+for I do not desire to pry into those things, I perhaps may be in a
+position to help you and to make you perfectly easy, and remove all
+your dull thoughts upon that subject.”
+
+Every word this creature said was a cordial to me, and put new life and
+new spirit into my heart; my blood began to circulate immediately, and
+I was quite another body; I ate my victuals again, and grew better
+presently after it. She said a great deal more to the same purpose, and
+then, having pressed me to be free with her, and promised in the
+solemnest manner to be secret, she stopped a little, as if waiting to
+see what impression it made on me, and what I would say.
+
+I was too sensible to the want I was in of such a woman, not to accept
+her offer; I told her my case was partly as she guessed, and partly
+not, for I was really married, and had a husband, though he was in such
+fine circumstances and so remote at that time, as that he could not
+appear publicly.
+
+She took me short, and told me that was none of her business; all the
+ladies that came under her care were married women to her. “Every
+woman,” she says, “that is with child has a father for it,” and whether
+that father was a husband or no husband, was no business of hers; her
+business was to assist me in my present circumstances, whether I had a
+husband or no. “For, madam,” says she, “to have a husband that cannot
+appear, is to have no husband in the sense of the case; and, therefore,
+whether you are a wife or a mistress is all one to me.”
+
+I found presently, that whether I was a whore or a wife, I was to pass
+for a whore here, so I let that go. I told her it was true, as she
+said, but that, however, if I must tell her my case, I must tell it her
+as it was; so I related it to her as short as I could, and I concluded
+it to her thus. “I trouble you with all this, madam,” said I, “not
+that, as you said before, it is much to the purpose in your affair, but
+this is to the purpose, namely, that I am not in any pain about being
+seen, or being public or concealed, for ’tis perfectly indifferent to
+me; but my difficulty is, that I have no acquaintance in this part of
+the nation.”
+
+“I understand you, madam” says she; “you have no security to bring to
+prevent the parish impertinences usual in such cases, and perhaps,”
+says she, “do not know very well how to dispose of the child when it
+comes.” “The last,” says I, “is not so much my concern as the first.”
+“Well, madam,” answered the midwife, “dare you put yourself into my
+hands? I live in such a place; though I do not inquire after you, you
+may inquire after me. My name is B——; I live in such a street”—naming
+the street—“at the sign of the Cradle. My profession is a midwife, and
+I have many ladies that come to my house to lie in. I have given
+security to the parish in general terms to secure them from any charge
+from whatsoever shall come into the world under my roof. I have but one
+question to ask in the whole affair, madam,” says she, “and if that be
+answered you shall be entirely easy for all the rest.”
+
+I presently understood what she meant, and told her, “Madam, I believe
+I understand you. I thank God, though I want friends in this part of
+the world, I do not want money, so far as may be necessary, though I do
+not abound in that neither”: this I added because I would not make her
+expect great things. “Well, madam,” says she, “that is the thing
+indeed, without which nothing can be done in these cases; and yet,”
+says she, “you shall see that I will not impose upon you, or offer
+anything that is unkind to you, and if you desire it, you shall know
+everything beforehand, that you may suit yourself to the occasion, and
+be neither costly or sparing as you see fit.”
+
+I told her she seemed to be so perfectly sensible of my condition, that
+I had nothing to ask of her but this, that as I had told her that I had
+money sufficient, but not a great quantity, she would order it so that
+I might be at as little superfluous charge as possible.
+
+She replied that she would bring in an account of the expenses of it in
+two or three shapes, and like a bill of fare, I should choose as I
+pleased; and I desired her to do so.
+
+The next day she brought it, and the copy of her three bills was as
+follows:—
+
+1.  For three months’ lodging in her house, including my diet, at 10s.
+a week . . . . . . . . . . . 6£,  0s., 0d.
+2.  For a nurse for the month, and use of childbed linen . . . . . . .
+. . . . . . . . . . . . . 1£, 10s., 0d.
+3.  For a minister to christen the child, and to the godfathers and
+clerk  . . . . . . . . . . . . 1£, 10s., 0d.
+4.  For a supper at the christening if I had five friends at it . . . .
+. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 1£,  0s., 0d.
+    For her fees as a midwife, and the taking off the trouble of the
+    parish . . . . . . . . . . . . 3£,  3s., 0d.
+    To her maid servant attending . . . . . . . . 0£, 10s., 0d.
+    -------------- 13£, 13s., 0d.
+
+
+This was the first bill; the second was the same terms:—
+
+1.  For three months’ lodging and diet, etc., at 20s. per week . . . .
+. . . . . . . . . . . . . . 13£,  0s., 0d.
+2.  For a nurse for the month, and the use of linen and lace . . . . .
+. . . . . . . . . . . . .  2£, 10s., 0d.
+3.  For the minister to christen the child, etc., as above . . . . . .
+. . . . . . . . . . . . . . 2£,  0s., 0d.
+4.  For supper and for sweetmeats . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .
+. . . . 3£,  3s., 0d.
+    For her fees as above . . . . . . . . . . . . 5£,  5s., 0d.
+    For a servant-maid  . . . . . . . . . . . . . 1£,  0s., 0d.
+    -------------- 26£, 18s., 0d.
+
+
+This was the second-rate bill; the third, she said, was for a degree
+higher, and when the father or friends appeared:—
+
+1.  For three months’ lodging and diet, having two rooms and a garret
+for a servant . . . . . . 30£,  0s., 0d.,
+2.  For a nurse for the month, and the finest suit of childbed linen .
+. . . . . . . . . . . . . 4£,  4s., 0d.
+3.  For the minister to christen the child, etc.  2£, 10s., 0d.
+4.  For a supper, the gentlemen to send in the wine . . . . . . . . . .
+. . . . . . . . . .  6£,  0s., 0d.
+    For my fees, etc. . . . . . . . . . . . . .  10£, 10s., 0d.
+    The maid, besides their own maid, only . . . . . . . . . . . . . .
+    . . . . . . . . . 0£, 10s., 0d. -------------- 53£, 14s., 0d.
+
+I looked upon all three bills, and smiled, and told her I did not see
+but that she was very reasonable in her demands, all things considered,
+and for that I did not doubt but her accommodations were good.
+
+She told me I should be judge of that when I saw them. I told her I was
+sorry to tell her that I feared I must be her lowest-rated customer.
+“And perhaps, madam,” said I, “you will make me the less welcome upon
+that account.” “No, not at all,” said she; “for where I have one of the
+third sort I have two of the second, and four to one of the first, and
+I get as much by them in proportion as by any; but if you doubt my care
+of you, I will allow any friend you have to overlook and see if you are
+well waited on or no.”
+
+Then she explained the particulars of her bill. “In the first place,
+madam,” said she, “I would have you observe that here is three months’
+keeping; you are but ten shillings a week; I undertake to say you will
+not complain of my table. I suppose,” says she, “you do not live
+cheaper where you are now?” “No, indeed,” said I, “not so cheap, for I
+give six shillings per week for my chamber, and find my own diet as
+well as I can, which costs me a great deal more.”
+
+“Then, madam,” says she, “if the child should not live, or should be
+dead-born, as you know sometimes happens, then there is the minister’s
+article saved; and if you have no friends to come to you, you may save
+the expense of a supper; so that take those articles out, madam,” says
+she, “your lying in will not cost you above £5, 3s. in all more than
+your ordinary charge of living.”
+
+This was the most reasonable thing that I ever heard of; so I smiled,
+and told her I would come and be her customer; but I told her also,
+that as I had two months and more to do, I might perhaps be obliged to
+stay longer with her than three months, and desired to know if she
+would not be obliged to remove me before it was proper. No, she said;
+her house was large, and besides, she never put anybody to remove, that
+had lain in, till they were willing to go; and if she had more ladies
+offered, she was not so ill-beloved among her neighbours but she could
+provide accommodations for twenty, if there was occasion.
+
+I found she was an eminent lady in her way; and, in short, I agreed to
+put myself into her hands, and promised her. She then talked of other
+things, looked about into my accommodations where I was, found fault
+with my wanting attendance and conveniences, and that I should not be
+used so at her house. I told her I was shy of speaking, for the woman
+of the house looked stranger, or at least I thought so, since I had
+been ill, because I was with child; and I was afraid she would put some
+affront or other upon me, supposing that I had been able to give but a
+slight account of myself.
+
+“Oh dear,” said she, “her ladyship is no stranger to these things; she
+has tried to entertain ladies in your condition several times, but she
+could not secure the parish; and besides, she is not such a nice lady
+as you take her to be; however, since you are a-going, you shall not
+meddle with her, but I’ll see you are a little better looked after
+while you are here than I think you are, and it shall not cost you the
+more neither.”
+
+I did not understand her at all; however, I thanked her, and so we
+parted. The next morning she sent me a chicken roasted and hot, and a
+pint bottle of sherry, and ordered the maid to tell me that she was to
+wait on me every day as long as I stayed there.
+
+This was surprisingly good and kind, and I accepted it very willingly.
+At night she sent to me again, to know if I wanted anything, and how I
+did, and to order the maid to come to her in the morning with my
+dinner. The maid had orders to make me some chocolate in the morning
+before she came away, and did so, and at noon she brought me the
+sweetbread of a breast of veal, whole, and a dish of soup for my
+dinner; and after this manner she nursed me up at a distance, so that I
+was mightily well pleased, and quickly well, for indeed my dejections
+before were the principal part of my illness.
+
+I expected, as is usually the case among such people, that the servant
+she sent me would have been some imprudent brazen wench of Drury Lane
+breeding, and I was very uneasy at having her with me upon that
+account; so I would not let her lie in that house the first night by
+any means, but had my eyes about me as narrowly as if she had been a
+public thief.
+
+My gentlewoman guessed presently what was the matter, and sent her back
+with a short note, that I might depend upon the honesty of her maid;
+that she would be answerable for her upon all accounts; and that she
+took no servants into her house without very good security for their
+fidelity. I was then perfectly easy; and indeed the maid’s behaviour
+spoke for itself, for a modester, quieter, soberer girl never came into
+anybody’s family, and I found her so afterwards.
+
+As soon as I was well enough to go abroad, I went with the maid to see
+the house, and to see the apartment I was to have; and everything was
+so handsome and so clean and well, that, in short, I had nothing to
+say, but was wonderfully pleased and satisfied with what I had met
+with, which, considering the melancholy circumstances I was in, was far
+beyond what I looked for.
+
+It might be expected that I should give some account of the nature of
+the wicked practices of this woman, in whose hands I was now fallen;
+but it would be too much encouragement to the vice, to let the world
+see what easy measures were here taken to rid the women’s unwelcome
+burthen of a child clandestinely gotten. This grave matron had several
+sorts of practice, and this was one particular, that if a child was
+born, though not in her house (for she had occasion to be called to
+many private labours), she had people at hand, who for a piece of money
+would take the child off their hands, and off from the hands of the
+parish too; and those children, as she said, were honestly provided for
+and taken care of. What should become of them all, considering so many,
+as by her account she was concerned with, I cannot conceive.
+
+I had many times discourses upon that subject with her; but she was
+full of this argument, that she save the life of many an innocent lamb,
+as she called them, which would otherwise perhaps have been murdered;
+and of many women who, made desperate by the misfortune, would
+otherwise be tempted to destroy their children, and bring themselves to
+the gallows. I granted her that this was true, and a very commendable
+thing, provided the poor children fell into good hands afterwards, and
+were not abused, starved, and neglected by the nurses that bred them
+up. She answered, that she always took care of that, and had no nurses
+in her business but what were very good, honest people, and such as
+might be depended upon.
+
+I could say nothing to the contrary, and so was obliged to say, “Madam,
+I do not question you do your part honestly, but what those people do
+afterwards is the main question”; and she stopped my mouth again with
+saying that she took the utmost care about it.
+
+The only thing I found in all her conversation on these subjects that
+gave me any distaste, was, that one time in discouraging about my being
+far gone with child, and the time I expected to come, she said
+something that looked as if she could help me off with my burthen
+sooner, if I was willing; or, in English, that she could give me
+something to make me miscarry, if I had a desire to put an end to my
+troubles that way; but I soon let her see that I abhorred the thoughts
+of it; and, to do her justice, she put it off so cleverly, that I could
+not say she really intended it, or whether she only mentioned the
+practice as a horrible thing; for she couched her words so well, and
+took my meaning so quickly, that she gave her negative before I could
+explain myself.
+
+To bring this part into as narrow a compass as possible, I quitted my
+lodging at St. Jones’s and went to my new governess, for so they called
+her in the house, and there I was indeed treated with so much courtesy,
+so carefully looked to, so handsomely provided, and everything so well,
+that I was surprised at it, and could not at first see what advantage
+my governess made of it; but I found afterwards that she professed to
+make no profit of lodgers’ diet, nor indeed could she get much by it,
+but that her profit lay in the other articles of her management, and
+she made enough that way, I assure you; for ’tis scarce credible what
+practice she had, as well abroad as at home, and yet all upon the
+private account, or, in plain English, the whoring account.
+
+While I was in her house, which was near four months, she had no less
+than twelve ladies of pleasure brought to bed within the doors, and I
+think she had two-and-thirty, or thereabouts, under her conduct without
+doors, whereof one, as nice as she was with me, was lodged with my old
+landlady at St. Jones’s.
+
+This was a strange testimony of the growing vice of the age, and such a
+one, that as bad as I had been myself, it shocked my very senses. I
+began to nauseate the place I was in and, about all, the wicked
+practice; and yet I must say that I never saw, or do I believe there
+was to be seen, the least indecency in the house the whole time I was
+there.
+
+Not a man was ever seen to come upstairs, except to visit the lying-in
+ladies within their month, nor then without the old lady with them, who
+made it a piece of honour of her management that no man should touch a
+woman, no, not his own wife, within the month; nor would she permit any
+man to lie in the house upon any pretence whatever, no, not though she
+was sure it was with his own wife; and her general saying for it was,
+that she cared not how many children were born in her house, but she
+would have none got there if she could help it.
+
+It might perhaps be carried further than was needful, but it was an
+error of the right hand if it was an error, for by this she kept up the
+reputation, such as it was, of her business, and obtained this
+character, that though she did take care of the women when they were
+debauched, yet she was not instrumental to their being debauched at
+all; and yet it was a wicked trade she drove too.
+
+While I was there, and before I was brought to bed, I received a letter
+from my trustee at the bank, full of kind, obliging things, and
+earnestly pressing me to return to London. It was near a fortnight old
+when it came to me, because it had been first sent into Lancashire, and
+then returned to me. He concludes with telling me that he had obtained
+a decree, I think he called it, against his wife, and that he would be
+ready to make good his engagement to me, if I would accept of him,
+adding a great many protestations of kindness and affection, such as he
+would have been far from offering if he had known the circumstances I
+had been in, and which as it was I had been very far from deserving.
+
+I returned an answer to his letter, and dated it at Liverpool, but sent
+it by messenger, alleging that it came in cover to a friend in town. I
+gave him joy of his deliverance, but raised some scruples at the
+lawfulness of his marrying again, and told him I supposed he would
+consider very seriously upon that point before he resolved on it, the
+consequence being too great for a man of his judgment to venture rashly
+upon a thing of that nature; so concluded, wishing him very well in
+whatever he resolved, without letting him into anything of my own mind,
+or giving any answer to his proposal of my coming to London to him, but
+mentioned at a distance my intention to return the latter end of the
+year, this being dated in April.
+
+I was brought to bed about the middle of May and had another brave boy,
+and myself in as good condition as usual on such occasions. My
+governess did her part as a midwife with the greatest art and dexterity
+imaginable, and far beyond all that ever I had had any experience of
+before.
+
+Her care of me in my travail, and after in my lying in, was such, that
+if she had been my own mother it could not have been better. Let none
+be encouraged in their loose practices from this dexterous lady’s
+management, for she is gone to her place, and I dare say has left
+nothing behind her that can or will come up on it.
+
+I think I had been brought to bed about twenty-two days when I received
+another letter from my friend at the bank, with the surprising news
+that he had obtained a final sentence of divorce against his wife, and
+had served her with it on such a day, and that he had such an answer to
+give to all my scruples about his marrying again, as I could not
+expect, and as he had no desire of; for that his wife, who had been
+under some remorse before for her usage of him, as soon as she had the
+account that he had gained his point, had very unhappily destroyed
+herself that same evening.
+
+He expressed himself very handsomely as to his being concerned at her
+disaster, but cleared himself of having any hand in it, and that he had
+only done himself justice in a case in which he was notoriously injured
+and abused. However, he said that he was extremely afflicted at it, and
+had no view of any satisfaction left in his world, but only in the hope
+that I would come and relieve him by my company; and then he pressed me
+violently indeed to give him some hopes that I would at least come up
+to town and let him see me, when he would further enter into discourse
+about it.
+
+I was exceedingly surprised at the news, and began now seriously to
+reflect on my present circumstances, and the inexpressible misfortune
+it was to me to have a child upon my hands, and what to do in it I knew
+not. At last I opened my case at a distance to my governess. I appeared
+melancholy and uneasy for several days, and she lay at me continually
+to know what trouble me. I could not for my life tell her that I had an
+offer of marriage, after I had so often told her that I had a husband,
+so that I really knew not what to say to her. I owned I had something
+which very much troubled me, but at the same time told her I could not
+speak of it to any one alive.
+
+She continued importuning me several days, but it was impossible, I
+told her, for me to commit the secret to anybody. This, instead of
+being an answer to her, increased her importunities; she urged her
+having been trusted with the greatest secrets of this nature, that it
+was her business to conceal everything, and that to discover things of
+that nature would be her ruin. She asked me if ever I had found her
+tattling to me of other people’s affairs, and how could I suspect her?
+She told me, to unfold myself to her was telling it to nobody; that she
+was silent as death; that it must be a very strange case indeed that
+she could not help me out of; but to conceal it was to deprive myself
+of all possible help, or means of help, and to deprive her of the
+opportunity of serving me. In short, she had such a bewitching
+eloquence, and so great a power of persuasion that there was no
+concealing anything from her.
+
+So I resolved to unbosom myself to her. I told her the history of my
+Lancashire marriage, and how both of us had been disappointed; how we
+came together, and how we parted; how he absolutely discharged me, as
+far as lay in him, free liberty to marry again, protesting that if he
+knew it he would never claim me, or disturb or expose me; that I
+thought I was free, but was dreadfully afraid to venture, for fear of
+the consequences that might follow in case of a discovery.
+
+Then I told her what a good offer I had; showed her my friend’s two
+last letters, inviting me to come to London, and let her see with what
+affection and earnestness they were written, but blotted out the name,
+and also the story about the disaster of his wife, only that she was
+dead.
+
+She fell a-laughing at my scruples about marrying, and told me the
+other was no marriage, but a cheat on both sides; and that, as we were
+parted by mutual consent, the nature of the contract was destroyed, and
+the obligation was mutually discharged. She had arguments for this at
+the tip of her tongue; and, in short, reasoned me out of my reason; not
+but that it was too by the help of my own inclination.
+
+But then came the great and main difficulty, and that was the child;
+this, she told me in so many words, must be removed, and that so as
+that it should never be possible for any one to discover it. I knew
+there was no marrying without entirely concealing that I had had a
+child, for he would soon have discovered by the age of it that it was
+born, nay, and gotten too, since my parley with him, and that would
+have destroyed all the affair.
+
+But it touched my heart so forcibly to think of parting entirely with
+the child, and, for aught I knew, of having it murdered, or starved by
+neglect and ill-usage (which was much the same), that I could not think
+of it without horror. I wish all those women who consent to the
+disposing their children out of the way, as it is called, for decency
+sake, would consider that ’tis only a contrived method for murder; that
+is to say, a-killing their children with safety.
+
+It is manifest to all that understand anything of children, that we are
+born into the world helpless, and incapable either to supply our own
+wants or so much as make them known; and that without help we must
+perish; and this help requires not only an assisting hand, whether of
+the mother or somebody else, but there are two things necessary in that
+assisting hand, that is, care and skill; without both which, half the
+children that are born would die, nay, though they were not to be
+denied food; and one half more of those that remained would be cripples
+or fools, lose their limbs, and perhaps their sense. I question not but
+that these are partly the reasons why affection was placed by nature in
+the hearts of mothers to their children; without which they would never
+be able to give themselves up, as ’tis necessary they should, to the
+care and waking pains needful to the support of their children.
+
+Since this care is needful to the life of children, to neglect them is
+to murder them; again, to give them up to be managed by those people
+who have none of that needful affection placed by nature in them, is to
+neglect them in the highest degree; nay, in some it goes farther, and
+is a neglect in order to their being lost; so that ’tis even an
+intentional murder, whether the child lives or dies.
+
+All those things represented themselves to my view, and that is the
+blackest and most frightful form: and as I was very free with my
+governess, whom I had now learned to call mother, I represented to her
+all the dark thoughts which I had upon me about it, and told her what
+distress I was in. She seemed graver by much at this part than at the
+other; but as she was hardened in these things beyond all possibility
+of being touched with the religious part, and the scruples about the
+murder, so she was equally impenetrable in that part which related to
+affection. She asked me if she had not been careful and tender to me in
+my lying in, as if I had been her own child. I told her I owned she
+had. “Well, my dear,” says she, “and when you are gone, what are you to
+me? And what would it be to me if you were to be hanged? Do you think
+there are not women who, as it is their trade and they get their bread
+by it, value themselves upon their being as careful of children as
+their own mothers can be, and understand it rather better? Yes, yes,
+child,” says she, “fear it not; how were we nursed ourselves? Are you
+sure you was nursed up by your own mother? and yet you look fat and
+fair, child,” says the old beldam; and with that she stroked me over
+the face. “Never be concerned, child,” says she, going on in her
+drolling way; “I have no murderers about me; I employ the best and the
+honestest nurses that can be had, and have as few children miscarry
+under their hands as there would if they were all nursed by mothers; we
+want neither care nor skill.”
+
+She touched me to the quick when she asked if I was sure that I was
+nursed by my own mother; on the contrary I was sure I was not; and I
+trembled, and looked pale at the very expression. “Sure,” said I to
+myself, “this creature cannot be a witch, or have any conversation with
+a spirit, that can inform her what was done with me before I was able
+to know it myself”; and I looked at her as if I had been frightened;
+but reflecting that it could not be possible for her to know anything
+about me, that disorder went off, and I began to be easy, but it was
+not presently.
+
+She perceived the disorder I was in, but did not know the meaning of
+it; so she ran on in her wild talk upon the weakness of my supposing
+that children were murdered because they were not all nursed by the
+mother, and to persuade me that the children she disposed of were as
+well used as if the mothers had the nursing of them themselves.
+
+“It may be true, mother,” says I, “for aught I know, but my doubts are
+very strongly grounded indeed.” “Come, then,” says she, “let’s hear
+some of them.” “Why, first,” says I, “you give a piece of money to
+these people to take the child off the parent’s hands, and to take care
+of it as long as it lives. Now we know, mother,” said I, “that those
+are poor people, and their gain consists in being quit of the charge as
+soon as they can; how can I doubt but that, as it is best for them to
+have the child die, they are not over solicitous about life?”
+
+“This is all vapours and fancy,” says the old woman; “I tell you their
+credit depends upon the child’s life, and they are as careful as any
+mother of you all.”
+
+“O mother,” says I, “if I was but sure my little baby would be
+carefully looked to, and have justice done it, I should be happy
+indeed; but it is impossible I can be satisfied in that point unless I
+saw it, and to see it would be ruin and destruction to me, as now my
+case stands; so what to do I know not.”
+
+“A fine story!” says the governess. “You would see the child, and you
+would not see the child; you would be concealed and discovered both
+together. These are things impossible, my dear; so you must e’en do as
+other conscientious mothers have done before you, and be contented with
+things as they must be, though they are not as you wish them to be.”
+
+I understood what she meant by conscientious mothers; she would have
+said conscientious whores, but she was not willing to disoblige me, for
+really in this case I was not a whore, because legally married, the
+force of former marriage excepted.
+
+However, let me be what I would, I was not come up to that pitch of
+hardness common to the profession; I mean, to be unnatural, and
+regardless of the safety of my child; and I preserved this honest
+affection so long, that I was upon the point of giving up my friend at
+the bank, who lay so hard at me to come to him and marry him, that, in
+short, there was hardly any room to deny him.
+
+At last my old governess came to me, with her usual assurance. “Come,
+my dear,” says she, “I have found out a way how you shall be at a
+certainty that your child shall be used well, and yet the people that
+take care of it shall never know you, or who the mother of the child
+is.”
+
+“Oh mother,” says I, “if you can do so, you will engage me to you for
+ever.” “Well,” says she, “are you willing to be a some small annual
+expense, more than what we usually give to the people we contract
+with?” “Ay,” says I, “with all my heart, provided I may be concealed.”
+“As to that,” says the governess, “you shall be secure, for the nurse
+shall never so much as dare to inquire about you, and you shall once or
+twice a year go with me and see your child, and see how ’tis used, and
+be satisfied that it is in good hands, nobody knowing who you are.”
+
+“Why,” said I, “do you think, mother, that when I come to see my child,
+I shall be able to conceal my being the mother of it? Do you think that
+possible?”
+
+“Well, well,” says my governess, “if you discover it, the nurse shall
+be never the wiser; for she shall be forbid to ask any questions about
+you, or to take any notice. If she offers it, she shall lose the money
+which you are suppose to give her, and the child shall be taken from
+her too.”
+
+I was very well pleased with this. So the next week a countrywoman was
+brought from Hertford, or thereabouts, who was to take the child off
+our hands entirely for £10 in money. But if I would allow £5 a year
+more of her, she would be obliged to bring the child to my governess’s
+house as often as we desired, or we should come down and look at it,
+and see how well she used it.
+
+The woman was very wholesome-looking, a likely woman, a cottager’s
+wife, but she had very good clothes and linen, and everything well
+about her; and with a heavy heart and many a tear, I let her have my
+child. I had been down at Hertford, and looked at her and at her
+dwelling, which I liked well enough; and I promised her great things if
+she would be kind to the child, so she knew at first word that I was
+the child’s mother. But she seemed to be so much out of the way, and to
+have no room to inquire after me, that I thought I was safe enough. So,
+in short, I consented to let her have the child, and I gave her £10;
+that is to say, I gave it to my governess, who gave it the poor woman
+before my face, she agreeing never to return the child back to me, or
+to claim anything more for its keeping or bringing up; only that I
+promised, if she took a great deal of care of it, I would give her
+something more as often as I came to see it; so that I was not bound to
+pay the £5, only that I promised my governess I would do it. And thus
+my great care was over, after a manner, which though it did not at all
+satisfy my mind, yet was the most convenient for me, as my affairs then
+stood, of any that could be thought of at that time.
+
+I then began to write to my friend at the bank in a more kindly style,
+and particularly about the beginning of July I sent him a letter, that
+I proposed to be in town some time in August. He returned me an answer
+in the most passionate terms imaginable, and desired me to let him have
+timely notice, and he would come and meet me, two day’s journey. This
+puzzled me scurvily, and I did not know what answer to make of it. Once
+I resolved to take the stage-coach to West Chester, on purpose only to
+have the satisfaction of coming back, that he might see me really come
+in the same coach; for I had a jealous thought, though I had no ground
+for it at all, lest he should think I was not really in the country.
+And it was no ill-grounded thought as you shall hear presently.
+
+I endeavoured to reason myself out of it, but it was in vain; the
+impression lay so strong on my mind, that it was not to be resisted. At
+last it came as an addition to my new design of going into the country,
+that it would be an excellent blind to my old governess, and would
+cover entirely all my other affairs, for she did not know in the least
+whether my new lover lived in London or in Lancashire; and when I told
+her my resolution, she was fully persuaded it was in Lancashire.
+
+Having taken my measure for this journey I let her know it, and sent
+the maid that tended me, from the beginning, to take a place for me in
+the coach. She would have had me let the maid have waited on me down to
+the last stage, and come up again in the waggon, but I convinced her it
+would not be convenient. When I went away, she told me she would enter
+into no measures for correspondence, for she saw evidently that my
+affection to my child would cause me to write to her, and to visit her
+too when I came to town again. I assured her it would, and so took my
+leave, well satisfied to have been freed from such a house, however
+good my accommodations there had been, as I have related above.
+
+I took the place in the coach not to its full extent, but to a place
+called Stone, in Cheshire, I think it is, where I not only had no
+manner of business, but not so much as the least acquaintance with any
+person in the town or near it. But I knew that with money in the pocket
+one is at home anywhere; so I lodged there two or three days, till,
+watching my opportunity, I found room in another stage-coach, and took
+passage back again for London, sending a letter to my gentleman that I
+should be such a certain day at Stony-Stratford, where the coachman
+told me he was to lodge.
+
+It happened to be a chance coach that I had taken up, which, having
+been hired on purpose to carry some gentlemen to West Chester who were
+going for Ireland, was now returning, and did not tie itself to exact
+times or places as the stages did; so that, having been obliged to lie
+still on Sunday, he had time to get himself ready to come out, which
+otherwise he could not have done.
+
+However, his warning was so short, that he could not reach to
+Stony-Stratford time enough to be with me at night, but he met me at a
+place called Brickhill the next morning, as we were just coming in to
+tow.
+
+I confess I was very glad to see him, for I had thought myself a little
+disappointed over-night, seeing I had gone so far to contrive my coming
+on purpose. He pleased me doubly too by the figure he came in, for he
+brought a very handsome (gentleman’s) coach and four horses, with a
+servant to attend him.
+
+He took me out of the stage-coach immediately, which stopped at an inn
+in Brickhill; and putting into the same inn, he set up his own coach,
+and bespoke his dinner. I asked him what he meant by that, for I was
+for going forward with the journey. He said, No, I had need of a little
+rest upon the road, and that was a very good sort of a house, though it
+was but a little town; so we would go no farther that night, whatever
+came of it.
+
+I did not press him much, for since he had come so to meet me, and put
+himself to so much expense, it was but reasonable I should oblige him a
+little too; so I was easy as to that point.
+
+After dinner we walked to see the town, to see the church, and to view
+the fields, and the country, as is usual for strangers to do; and our
+landlord was our guide in going to see the church. I observed my
+gentleman inquired pretty much about the parson, and I took the hint
+immediately that he certainly would propose to be married; and though
+it was a sudden thought, it followed presently, that, in short, I would
+not refuse him; for, to be plain, with my circumstances I was in no
+condition now to say No; I had no reason now to run any more such
+hazards.
+
+But while these thoughts ran round in my head, which was the work but
+of a few moments, I observed my landlord took him aside and whispered
+to him, though not very softly neither, for so much I overheard: “Sir,
+if you shall have occasion——” the rest I could not hear, but it seems
+it was to this purpose: “Sir, if you shall have occasion for a
+minister, I have a friend a little way off that will serve you, and be
+as private as you please.” My gentleman answered loud enough for me to
+hear, “Very well, I believe I shall.”
+
+I was no sooner come back to the inn but he fell upon me with
+irresistible words, that since he had had the good fortune to meet me,
+and everything concurred, it would be hastening his felicity if I would
+put an end to the matter just there. “What do you mean?” says I,
+colouring a little. “What, in an inn, and upon the road! Bless us all,”
+said I, as if I had been surprised, “how can you talk so?” “Oh, I can
+talk so very well,” says he, “I came a-purpose to talk so, and I’ll
+show you that I did”; and with that he pulls out a great bundle of
+papers. “You fright me,” said I; “what are all these?” “Don’t be
+frighted, my dear,” said he, and kissed me. This was the first time
+that he had been so free to call me “my dear”; then he repeated it,
+“Don’t be frighted; you shall see what it is all”; then he laid them
+all abroad. There was first the deed or sentence of divorce from his
+wife, and the full evidence of her playing the whore; then there were
+the certificates of the minister and churchwardens of the parish where
+she lived, proving that she was buried, and intimating the manner of
+her death; the copy of the coroner’s warrant for a jury to sit upon
+her, and the verdict of the jury, who brought it in Non compos mentis.
+All this was indeed to the purpose, and to give me satisfaction,
+though, by the way, I was not so scrupulous, had he known all, but that
+I might have taken him without it. However, I looked them all over as
+well as I could, and told him that this was all very clear indeed, but
+that he need not have given himself the trouble to have brought them
+out with him, for it was time enough. Well, he said, it might be time
+enough for me, but no time but the present time was time enough for
+him.
+
+There were other papers rolled up, and I asked him what they were.
+“Why, ay,” says he, “that’s the question I wanted to have you ask me”;
+so he unrolls them and takes out a little shagreen case, and gives me
+out of it a very fine diamond ring. I could not refuse it, if I had a
+mind to do so, for he put it upon my finger; so I made him a curtsy and
+accepted it. Then he takes out another ring: “And this,” says he, “is
+for another occasion,” so he puts that in his pocket. “Well, but let me
+see it, though,” says I, and smiled; “I guess what it is; I think you
+are mad.” “I should have been mad if I had done less,” says he, and
+still he did not show me, and I had a great mind to see it; so I says,
+“Well, but let me see it.” “Hold,” says he, “first look here”; then he
+took up the roll again and read it, and behold! it was a licence for us
+to be married. “Why,” says I, “are you distracted? Why, you were fully
+satisfied that I would comply and yield at first word, or resolved to
+take no denial.” “The last is certainly the case,” said he. “But you
+may be mistaken,” said I. “No, no,” says he, “how can you think so? I
+must not be denied, I can’t be denied”; and with that he fell to
+kissing me so violently, I could not get rid of him.
+
+There was a bed in the room, and we were walking to and again, eager in
+the discourse; at last he takes me by surprise in his arms, and threw
+me on the bed and himself with me, and holding me fast in his arms, but
+without the least offer of any indecency, courted me to consent with
+such repeated entreaties and arguments, protesting his affection, and
+vowing he would not let me go till I had promised him, that at last I
+said, “Why, you resolve not to be denied, indeed, I can’t be denied.”
+“Well, well,” said I, and giving him a slight kiss, “then you shan’t be
+denied,” said I; “let me get up.”
+
+He was so transported with my consent, and the kind manner of it, that
+I began to think once he took it for a marriage, and would not stay for
+the form; but I wronged him, for he gave over kissing me, and then
+giving me two or three kisses again, thanked me for my kind yielding to
+him; and was so overcome with the satisfaction and joy of it, that I
+saw tears stand in his eyes.
+
+I turned from him, for it filled my eyes with tears too, and I asked
+him leave to retire a little to my chamber. If ever I had a grain of
+true repentance for a vicious and abominable life for twenty-four years
+past, it was then. Oh, what a felicity is it to mankind, said I to
+myself, that they cannot see into the hearts of one another! How happy
+had it been for me if I had been wife to a man of so much honesty, and
+so much affection from the beginning!
+
+Then it occurred to me, “What an abominable creature am I! and how is
+this innocent gentleman going to be abused by me! How little does he
+think, that having divorced a whore, he is throwing himself into the
+arms of another! that he is going to marry one that has lain with two
+brothers, and has had three children by her own brother! one that was
+born in Newgate, whose mother was a whore, and is now a transported
+thief! one that has lain with thirteen men, and has had a child since
+he saw me! Poor gentleman!” said I, “what is he going to do?” After
+this reproaching myself was over, it following thus: “Well, if I must
+be his wife, if it please God to give me grace, I’ll be a true wife to
+him, and love him suitably to the strange excess of his passion for me;
+I will make him amends if possible, by what he shall see, for the
+cheats and abuses I put upon him, which he does not see.”
+
+He was impatient for my coming out of my chamber, but finding me long,
+he went downstairs and talked with my landlord about the parson.
+
+My landlord, an officious though well-meaning fellow, had sent away for
+the neighbouring clergyman; and when my gentleman began to speak of it
+to him, and talk of sending for him, “Sir,” says he to him, “my friend
+is in the house”; so without any more words he brought them together.
+When he came to the minister, he asked him if he would venture to marry
+a couple of strangers that were both willing. The parson said that Mr.
+—— had said something to him of it; that he hoped it was no clandestine
+business; that he seemed to be a grave gentleman, and he supposed madam
+was not a girl, so that the consent of friends should be wanted. “To
+put you out of doubt of that,” says my gentleman, “read this paper”;
+and out he pulls the license. “I am satisfied,” says the minister;
+“where is the lady?” “You shall see her presently,” says my gentleman.
+
+When he had said thus he comes upstairs, and I was by that time come
+out of my room; so he tells me the minister was below, and that he had
+talked with him, and that upon showing him the license, he was free to
+marry us with all his heart, “but he asks to see you”; so he asked if I
+would let him come up.
+
+“’Tis time enough,” said I, “in the morning, is it not?” “Why,” said
+he, “my dear, he seemed to scruple whether it was not some young girl
+stolen from her parents, and I assured him we were both of age to
+command our own consent; and that made him ask to see you.” “Well,”
+said I, “do as you please”; so up they brings the parson, and a merry,
+good sort of gentleman he was. He had been told, it seems, that we had
+met there by accident, that I came in the Chester coach, and my
+gentleman in his own coach to meet me; that we were to have met last
+night at Stony-Stratford, but that he could not reach so far. “Well,
+sir,” says the parson, “every ill turn has some good in it. The
+disappointment, sir,” says he to my gentleman, “was yours, and the good
+turn is mine, for if you had met at Stony-Stratford I had not had the
+honour to marry you. Landlord, have you a Common Prayer Book?”
+
+I started as if I had been frightened. “Lord, sir,” says I, “what do
+you mean? What, to marry in an inn, and at night too?” “Madam,” says
+the minister, “if you will have it be in the church, you shall; but I
+assure you your marriage will be as firm here as in the church; we are
+not tied by the canons to marry nowhere but in the church; and if you
+will have it in the church, it will be a public as a county fair; and
+as for the time of day, it does not at all weigh in this case; our
+princes are married in their chambers, and at eight or ten o’clock at
+night.”
+
+I was a great while before I could be persuaded, and pretended not to
+be willing at all to be married but in the church. But it was all
+grimace; so I seemed at last to be prevailed on, and my landlord and
+his wife and daughter were called up. My landlord was father and clerk
+and all together, and we were married, and very merry we were; though I
+confess the self-reproaches which I had upon me before lay close to me,
+and extorted every now and then a deep sigh from me, which my
+bridegroom took notice of, and endeavoured to encourage me, thinking,
+poor man, that I had some little hesitations at the step I had taken so
+hastily.
+
+We enjoyed ourselves that evening completely, and yet all was kept so
+private in the inn that not a servant in the house knew of it, for my
+landlady and her daughter waited on me, and would not let any of the
+maids come upstairs, except while we were at supper. My landlady’s
+daughter I called my bridesmaid; and sending for a shopkeeper the next
+morning, I gave the young woman a good suit of knots, as good as the
+town would afford, and finding it was a lace-making town, I gave her
+mother a piece of bone-lace for a head.
+
+One reason that my landlord was so close was, that he was unwilling the
+minister of the parish should hear of it; but for all that somebody
+heard of it, so at that we had the bells set a-ringing the next morning
+early, and the music, such as the town would afford, under our window;
+but my landlord brazened it out, that we were married before we came
+thither, only that, being his former guests, we would have our
+wedding-supper at his house.
+
+We could not find in our hearts to stir the next day; for, in short,
+having been disturbed by the bells in the morning, and having perhaps
+not slept overmuch before, we were so sleepy afterwards that we lay in
+bed till almost twelve o’clock.
+
+I begged my landlady that we might not have any more music in the town,
+nor ringing of bells, and she managed it so well that we were very
+quiet; but an odd passage interrupted all my mirth for a good while.
+The great room of the house looked into the street, and my new spouse
+being belowstairs, I had walked to the end of the room; and it being a
+pleasant, warm day, I had opened the window, and was standing at it for
+some air, when I saw three gentlemen come by on horseback and go into
+an inn just against us.
+
+It was not to be concealed, nor was it so doubtful as to leave me any
+room to question it, but the second of the three was my Lancashire
+husband. I was frightened to death; I never was in such a consternation
+in my life; I though I should have sunk into the ground; my blood ran
+chill in my veins, and I trembled as if I had been in a cold fit of
+ague. I say, there was no room to question the truth of it; I knew his
+clothes, I knew his horse, and I knew his face.
+
+The first sensible reflect I made was, that my husband was not by to
+see my disorder, and that I was very glad of it. The gentlemen had not
+been long in the house but they came to the window of their room, as is
+usual; but my window was shut, you may be sure. However, I could not
+keep from peeping at them, and there I saw him again, heard him call
+out to one of the servants of the house for something he wanted, and
+received all the terrifying confirmations of its being the same person
+that were possible to be had.
+
+My next concern was to know, if possible, what was his business there;
+but that was impossible. Sometimes my imagination formed an idea of one
+frightful thing, sometimes of another; sometimes I thought he had
+discovered me, and was come to upbraid me with ingratitude and breach
+of honour; and every moment I fancied he was coming up the stairs to
+insult me; and innumerable fancies came into my head of what was never
+in his head, nor ever could be, unless the devil had revealed it to
+him.
+
+I remained in this fright nearly two hours, and scarce ever kept my eye
+from the window or door of the inn where they were. At last, hearing a
+great clatter in the passage of their inn, I ran to the window, and, to
+my great satisfaction, saw them all three go out again and travel on
+westward. Had they gone towards London, I should have been still in a
+fright, lest I should meet him on the road again, and that he should
+know me; but he went the contrary way, and so I was eased of that
+disorder.
+
+We resolved to be going the next day, but about six o’clock at night we
+were alarmed with a great uproar in the street, and people riding as if
+they had been out of their wits; and what was it but a hue-and-cry
+after three highwaymen that had robbed two coaches and some other
+travellers near Dunstable Hill, and notice had, it seems, been given
+that they had been seen at Brickhill at such a house, meaning the house
+where those gentlemen had been.
+
+The house was immediately beset and searched, but there were witnesses
+enough that the gentlemen had been gone over three hours. The crowd
+having gathered about, we had the news presently; and I was heartily
+concerned now another way. I presently told the people of the house,
+that I durst to say those were not the persons, for that I knew one of
+the gentlemen to be a very honest person, and of a good estate in
+Lancashire.
+
+The constable who came with the hue-and-cry was immediately informed of
+this, and came over to me to be satisfied from my own mouth, and I
+assured him that I saw the three gentlemen as I was at the window; that
+I saw them afterwards at the windows of the room they dined in; that I
+saw them afterwards take horse, and I could assure him I knew one of
+them to be such a man, that he was a gentleman of a very good estate,
+and an undoubted character in Lancashire, from whence I was just now
+upon my journey.
+
+The assurance with which I delivered this gave the mob gentry a check,
+and gave the constable such satisfaction, that he immediately sounded a
+retreat, told his people these were not the men, but that he had an
+account they were very honest gentlemen; and so they went all back
+again. What the truth of the matter was I knew not, but certain it was
+that the coaches were robbed at Dunstable Hill, and £560 in money
+taken; besides, some of the lace merchants that always travel that way
+had been visited too. As to the three gentlemen, that remains to be
+explained hereafter.
+
+Well, this alarm stopped us another day, though my spouse was for
+travelling, and told me that it was always safest travelling after a
+robbery, for that the thieves were sure to be gone far enough off when
+they had alarmed the country; but I was afraid and uneasy, and indeed
+principally lest my old acquaintance should be upon the road still, and
+should chance to see me.
+
+I never lived four pleasanter days together in my life. I was a mere
+bride all this while, and my new spouse strove to make me entirely easy
+in everything. Oh could this state of life have continued, how had all
+my past troubles been forgot, and my future sorrows avoided! But I had
+a past life of a most wretched kind to account for, some of it in this
+world as well as in another.
+
+We came away the fifth day; and my landlord, because he saw me uneasy,
+mounted himself, his son, and three honest country fellows with good
+firearms, and, without telling us of it, followed the coach, and would
+see us safe into Dunstable. We could do no less than treat them very
+handsomely at Dunstable, which cost my spouse about ten or twelve
+shillings, and something he gave the men for their time too, but my
+landlord would take nothing for himself.
+
+This was the most happy contrivance for me that could have fallen out;
+for had I come to London unmarried, I must either have come to him for
+the first night’s entertainment, or have discovered to him that I had
+not one acquaintance in the whole city of London that could receive a
+poor bride for the first night’s lodging with her spouse. But now,
+being an old married woman, I made no scruple of going directly home
+with him, and there I took possession at once of a house well
+furnished, and a husband in very good circumstances, so that I had a
+prospect of a very happy life, if I knew how to manage it; and I had
+leisure to consider of the real value of the life I was likely to live.
+How different it was to be from the loose ungoverned part I had acted
+before, and how much happier a life of virtue and sobriety is, than
+that which we call a life of pleasure.
+
+Oh had this particular scene of life lasted, or had I learned from that
+time I enjoyed it, to have tasted the true sweetness of it, and had I
+not fallen into that poverty which is the sure bane of virtue, how
+happy had I been, not only here, but perhaps for ever! for while I
+lived thus, I was really a penitent for all my life past. I looked back
+on it with abhorrence, and might truly be said to hate myself for it. I
+often reflected how my lover at the Bath, struck at the hand of God,
+repented and abandoned me, and refused to see me any more, though he
+loved me to an extreme; but I, prompted by that worst of devils,
+poverty, returned to the vile practice, and made the advantage of what
+they call a handsome face to be the relief to my necessities, and
+beauty be a pimp to vice.
+
+Now I seemed landed in a safe harbour, after the stormy voyage of life
+past was at an end, and I began to be thankful for my deliverance. I
+sat many an hour by myself, and wept over the remembrance of past
+follies, and the dreadful extravagances of a wicked life, and sometimes
+I flattered myself that I had sincerely repented.
+
+But there are temptations which it is not in the power of human nature
+to resist, and few know what would be their case if driven to the same
+exigencies. As covetousness is the root of all evil, so poverty is, I
+believe, the worst of all snares. But I waive that discourse till I
+come to an experiment.
+
+I lived with this husband with the utmost tranquillity; he was a quiet,
+sensible, sober man; virtuous, modest, sincere, and in his business
+diligent and just. His business was in a narrow compass, and his income
+sufficient to a plentiful way of living in the ordinary way. I do not
+say to keep an equipage, and make a figure, as the world calls it, nor
+did I expect it, or desire it; for as I abhorred the levity and
+extravagance of my former life, so I chose now to live retired, frugal,
+and within ourselves. I kept no company, made no visits; minded my
+family, and obliged my husband; and this kind of life became a pleasure
+to me.
+
+We lived in an uninterrupted course of ease and content for five years,
+when a sudden blow from an almost invisible hand blasted all my
+happiness, and turned me out into the world in a condition the reverse
+of all that had been before it.
+
+My husband having trusted one of his fellow-clerks with a sum of money,
+too much for our fortunes to bear the loss of, the clerk failed, and
+the loss fell very heavy on my husband, yet it was not so great neither
+but that, if he had had spirit and courage to have looked his
+misfortunes in the face, his credit was so good that, as I told him, he
+would easily recover it; for to sink under trouble is to double the
+weight, and he that will die in it, shall die in it.
+
+It was in vain to speak comfortably to him; the wound had sunk too
+deep; it was a stab that touched the vitals; he grew melancholy and
+disconsolate, and from thence lethargic, and died. I foresaw the blow,
+and was extremely oppressed in my mind, for I saw evidently that if he
+died I was undone.
+
+I had had two children by him and no more, for, to tell the truth, it
+began to be time for me to leave bearing children, for I was now
+eight-and-forty, and I suppose if he had lived I should have had no
+more.
+
+I was now left in a dismal and disconsolate case indeed, and in several
+things worse than ever. First, it was past the flourishing time with me
+when I might expect to be courted for a mistress; that agreeable part
+had declined some time, and the ruins only appeared of what had been;
+and that which was worse than all this, that I was the most dejected,
+disconsolate creature alive. I that had encouraged my husband, and
+endeavoured to support his spirits under his trouble, could not support
+my own; I wanted that spirit in trouble which I told him was so
+necessary to him for bearing the burthen.
+
+But my case was indeed deplorable, for I was left perfectly friendless
+and helpless, and the loss my husband had sustained had reduced his
+circumstances so low, that though indeed I was not in debt, yet I could
+easily foresee that what was left would not support me long; that while
+it wasted daily for subsistence, I had not way to increase it one
+shilling, so that it would be soon all spent, and then I saw nothing
+before me but the utmost distress; and this represented itself so
+lively to my thoughts, that it seemed as if it was come, before it was
+really very near; also my very apprehensions doubled the misery, for I
+fancied every sixpence that I paid for a loaf of bread was the last
+that I had in the world, and that to-morrow I was to fast, and be
+starved to death.
+
+In this distress I had no assistant, no friend to comfort or advise me;
+I sat and cried and tormented myself night and day, wringing my hands,
+and sometimes raving like a distracted woman; and indeed I have often
+wondered it had not affected my reason, for I had the vapours to such a
+degree, that my understanding was sometimes quite lost in fancies and
+imaginations.
+
+I lived two years in this dismal condition, wasting that little I had,
+weeping continually over my dismal circumstances, and, as it were, only
+bleeding to death, without the least hope or prospect of help from God
+or man; and now I had cried too long, and so often, that tears were, as
+I might say, exhausted, and I began to be desperate, for I grew poor
+apace.
+
+For a little relief I had put off my house and took lodgings; and as I
+was reducing my living, so I sold off most of my goods, which put a
+little money in my pocket, and I lived near a year upon that, spending
+very sparingly, and eking things out to the utmost; but still when I
+looked before me, my very heart would sink within me at the inevitable
+approach of misery and want. Oh let none read this part without
+seriously reflecting on the circumstances of a desolate state, and how
+they would grapple with mere want of friends and want of bread; it will
+certainly make them think not of sparing what they have only, but of
+looking up to heaven for support, and of the wise man’s prayer, “Give
+me not poverty, lest I steal.”
+
+Let them remember that a time of distress is a time of dreadful
+temptation, and all the strength to resist is taken away; poverty
+presses, the soul is made desperate by distress, and what can be done?
+It was one evening, when being brought, as I may say, to the last gasp,
+I think I may truly say I was distracted and raving, when prompted by I
+know not what spirit, and, as it were, doing I did not know what or
+why, I dressed me (for I had still pretty good clothes) and went out. I
+am very sure I had no manner of design in my head when I went out; I
+neither knew nor considered where to go, or on what business; but as
+the devil carried me out and laid his bait for me, so he brought me, to
+be sure, to the place, for I knew not whither I was going or what I
+did.
+
+Wandering thus about, I knew not whither, I passed by an apothecary’s
+shop in Leadenhall Street, when I saw lie on a stool just before the
+counter a little bundle wrapped in a white cloth; beyond it stood a
+maid-servant with her back to it, looking towards the top of the shop,
+where the apothecary’s apprentice, as I suppose, was standing upon the
+counter, with his back also to the door, and a candle in his hand,
+looking and reaching up to the upper shelf for something he wanted, so
+that both were engaged mighty earnestly, and nobody else in the shop.
+
+This was the bait; and the devil, who I said laid the snare, as readily
+prompted me as if he had spoke, for I remember, and shall never forget
+it, ’twas like a voice spoken to me over my shoulder, “Take the bundle;
+be quick; do it this moment.” It was no sooner said but I stepped into
+the shop, and with my back to the wench, as if I had stood up for a
+cart that was going by, I put my hand behind me and took the bundle,
+and went off with it, the maid or the fellow not perceiving me, or any
+one else.
+
+It is impossible to express the horror of my soul all the while I did
+it. When I went away I had no heart to run, or scarce to mend my pace.
+I crossed the street indeed, and went down the first turning I came to,
+and I think it was a street that went through into Fenchurch Street.
+From thence I crossed and turned through so many ways and turnings,
+that I could never tell which way it was, not where I went; for I felt
+not the ground I stepped on, and the farther I was out of danger, the
+faster I went, till, tired and out of breath, I was forced to sit down
+on a little bench at a door, and then I began to recover, and found I
+was got into Thames Street, near Billingsgate. I rested me a little and
+went on; my blood was all in a fire; my heart beat as if I was in a
+sudden fright. In short, I was under such a surprise that I still knew
+not wither I was going, or what to do.
+
+After I had tired myself thus with walking a long way about, and so
+eagerly, I began to consider and make home to my lodging, where I came
+about nine o’clock at night.
+
+When the bundle was made up for, or on what occasion laid where I found
+it, I knew not, but when I came to open it I found there was a suit of
+childbed-linen in it, very good and almost new, the lace very fine;
+there was a silver porringer of a pint, a small silver mug and six
+spoons, with some other linen, a good smock, and three silk
+handkerchiefs, and in the mug, wrapped up in a paper, 18s. 6d. in
+money.
+
+All the while I was opening these things I was under such dreadful
+impressions of fear, and I such terror of mind, though I was perfectly
+safe, that I cannot express the manner of it. I sat me down, and cried
+most vehemently. “Lord,” said I, “what am I now? a thief! Why, I shall
+be taken next time, and be carried to Newgate and be tried for my
+life!” And with that I cried again a long time, and I am sure, as poor
+as I was, if I had durst for fear, I would certainly have carried the
+things back again; but that went off after a while. Well, I went to bed
+for that night, but slept little; the horror of the fact was upon my
+mind, and I knew not what I said or did all night, and all the next
+day. Then I was impatient to hear some news of the loss; and would fain
+know how it was, whether they were a poor body’s goods, or a rich.
+“Perhaps,” said I, “it may be some poor widow like me, that had packed
+up these goods to go and sell them for a little bread for herself and a
+poor child, and are now starving and breaking their hearts for want of
+that little they would have fetched.” And this thought tormented me
+worse than all the rest, for three or four days’ time.
+
+But my own distresses silenced all these reflections, and the prospect
+of my own starving, which grew every day more frightful to me, hardened
+my heart by degrees. It was then particularly heavy upon my mind, that
+I had been reformed, and had, as I hoped, repented of all my past
+wickedness; that I had lived a sober, grave, retired life for several
+years, but now I should be driven by the dreadful necessity of my
+circumstances to the gates of destruction, soul and body; and two or
+three times I fell upon my knees, praying to God, as well as I could,
+for deliverance; but I cannot but say, my prayers had no hope in them.
+I knew not what to do; it was all fear without, and dark within; and I
+reflected on my past life as not sincerely repented of, that Heaven was
+now beginning to punish me on this side the grave, and would make me as
+miserable as I had been wicked.
+
+Had I gone on here I had perhaps been a true penitent; but I had an
+evil counsellor within, and he was continually prompting me to relieve
+myself by the worst means; so one evening he tempted me again, by the
+same wicked impulse that had said “Take that bundle,” to go out again
+and seek for what might happen.
+
+I went out now by daylight, and wandered about I knew not whither, and
+in search of I knew not what, when the devil put a snare in my way of a
+dreadful nature indeed, and such a one as I have never had before or
+since. Going through Aldersgate Street, there was a pretty little child
+who had been at a dancing-school, and was going home, all alone; and my
+prompter, like a true devil, set me upon this innocent creature. I
+talked to it, and it prattled to me again, and I took it by the hand
+and led it along till I came to a paved alley that goes into
+Bartholomew Close, and I led it in there. The child said that was not
+its way home. I said, “Yes, my dear, it is; I’ll show you the way
+home.” The child had a little necklace on of gold beads, and I had my
+eye upon that, and in the dark of the alley I stooped, pretending to
+mend the child’s clog that was loose, and took off her necklace, and
+the child never felt it, and so led the child on again. Here, I say,
+the devil put me upon killing the child in the dark alley, that it
+might not cry, but the very thought frighted me so that I was ready to
+drop down; but I turned the child about and bade it go back again, for
+that was not its way home. The child said, so she would, and I went
+through into Bartholomew Close, and then turned round to another
+passage that goes into St. John Street; then, crossing into Smithfield,
+went down Chick Lane and into Field Lane to Holborn Bridge, when,
+mixing with the crowd of people usually passing there, it was not
+possible to have been found out; and thus I enterprised my second sally
+into the world.
+
+The thoughts of this booty put out all the thoughts of the first, and
+the reflections I had made wore quickly off; poverty, as I have said,
+hardened my heart, and my own necessities made me regardless of
+anything. The last affair left no great concern upon me, for as I did
+the poor child no harm, I only said to myself, I had given the parents
+a just reproof for their negligence in leaving the poor little lamb to
+come home by itself, and it would teach them to take more care of it
+another time.
+
+This string of beads was worth about twelve or fourteen pounds. I
+suppose it might have been formerly the mother’s, for it was too big
+for the child’s wear, but that perhaps the vanity of the mother, to
+have her child look fine at the dancing-school, had made her let the
+child wear it; and no doubt the child had a maid sent to take care of
+it, but she, careless jade, was taken up perhaps with some fellow that
+had met her by the way, and so the poor baby wandered till it fell into
+my hands.
+
+However, I did the child no harm; I did not so much as fright it, for I
+had a great many tender thoughts about me yet, and did nothing but
+what, as I may say, mere necessity drove me to.
+
+I had a great many adventures after this, but I was young in the
+business, and did not know how to manage, otherwise than as the devil
+put things into my head; and indeed he was seldom backward to me. One
+adventure I had which was very lucky to me. I was going through Lombard
+Street in the dusk of the evening, just by the end of Three King court,
+when on a sudden comes a fellow running by me as swift as lightning,
+and throws a bundle that was in his hand, just behind me, as I stood up
+against the corner of the house at the turning into the alley. Just as
+he threw it in he said, “God bless you, mistress, let it lie there a
+little,” and away he runs swift as the wind. After him comes two more,
+and immediately a young fellow without his hat, crying “Stop thief!”
+and after him two or three more. They pursued the two last fellows so
+close, that they were forced to drop what they had got, and one of them
+was taken into the bargain, and other got off free.
+
+I stood stock-still all this while, till they came back, dragging the
+poor fellow they had taken, and lugging the things they had found,
+extremely well satisfied that they had recovered the booty and taken
+the thief; and thus they passed by me, for I looked only like one who
+stood up while the crowd was gone.
+
+Once or twice I asked what was the matter, but the people neglected
+answering me, and I was not very importunate; but after the crowd was
+wholly past, I took my opportunity to turn about and take up what was
+behind me and walk away. This, indeed, I did with less disturbance than
+I had done formerly, for these things I did not steal, but they were
+stolen to my hand. I got safe to my lodgings with this cargo, which was
+a piece of fine black lustring silk, and a piece of velvet; the latter
+was but part of a piece of about eleven yards; the former was a whole
+piece of near fifty yards. It seems it was a mercer’s shop that they
+had rifled. I say rifled, because the goods were so considerable that
+they had lost; for the goods that they recovered were pretty many, and
+I believe came to about six or seven several pieces of silk. How they
+came to get so many I could not tell; but as I had only robbed the
+thief, I made no scruple at taking these goods, and being very glad of
+them too.
+
+I had pretty good luck thus far, and I made several adventures more,
+though with but small purchase, yet with good success, but I went in
+daily dread that some mischief would befall me, and that I should
+certainly come to be hanged at last. The impression this made on me was
+too strong to be slighted, and it kept me from making attempts that,
+for ought I knew, might have been very safely performed; but one thing
+I cannot omit, which was a bait to me many a day. I walked frequently
+out into the villages round the town, to see if nothing would fall in
+my way there; and going by a house near Stepney, I saw on the
+window-board two rings, one a small diamond ring, and the other a gold
+ring, to be sure laid there by some thoughtless lady, that had more
+money then forecast, perhaps only till she washed her hands.
+
+I walked several times by the window to observe if I could see whether
+there was anybody in the room or no, and I could see nobody, but still
+I was not sure. It came presently into my thoughts to rap at the glass,
+as if I wanted to speak with somebody, and if anybody was there they
+would be sure to come to the window, and then I would tell them to
+remove those rings, for that I had seen two suspicious fellows take
+notice of them. This was a ready thought. I rapped once or twice and
+nobody came, when, seeing the coast clear, I thrust hard against the
+square of the glass, and broke it with very little noise, and took out
+the two rings, and walked away with them very safe. The diamond ring
+was worth about £3, and the other about 9s.
+
+I was now at a loss for a market for my goods, and especially for my
+two pieces of silk. I was very loth to dispose of them for a trifle, as
+the poor unhappy thieves in general do, who, after they have ventured
+their lives for perhaps a thing of value, are fain to sell it for a
+song when they have done; but I was resolved I would not do thus,
+whatever shift I made, unless I was driven to the last extremity.
+However, I did not well know what course to take. At last I resolved to
+go to my old governess, and acquaint myself with her again. I had
+punctually supplied the £5 a year to her for my little boy as long as I
+was able, but at last was obliged to put a stop to it. However, I had
+written a letter to her, wherein I had told her that my circumstances
+were reduced very low; that I had lost my husband, and that I was not
+able to do it any longer, and so begged that the poor child might not
+suffer too much for its mother’s misfortunes.
+
+I now made her a visit, and I found that she drove something of the old
+trade still, but that she was not in such flourishing circumstances as
+before; for she had been sued by a certain gentleman who had had his
+daughter stolen from him, and who, it seems, she had helped to convey
+away; and it was very narrowly that she escaped the gallows. The
+expense also had ravaged her, and she was become very poor; her house
+was but meanly furnished, and she was not in such repute for her
+practice as before; however, she stood upon her legs, as they say, and
+as she was a stirring, bustling woman, and had some stock left, she was
+turned pawnbroker, and lived pretty well.
+
+She received me very civilly, and with her usual obliging manner told
+me she would not have the less respect for me for my being reduced;
+that she had taken care my boy was very well looked after, though I
+could not pay for him, and that the woman that had him was easy, so
+that I needed not to trouble myself about him till I might be better
+able to do it effectually.
+
+I told her that I had not much money left, but that I had some things
+that were money’s worth, if she could tell me how I might turn them
+into money. She asked me what it was I had. I pulled out the string of
+gold beads, and told her it was one of my husband’s presents to me;
+then I showed her the two parcels of silk, which I told her I had from
+Ireland, and brought up to town with me; and the little diamond ring.
+As to the small parcel of plate and spoons, I had found means to
+dispose of them myself before; and as for the childbed-linen I had, she
+offered me to take it herself, believing it to have been my own. She
+told me that she was turned pawnbroker, and that she would sell those
+things for me as pawn to her; and so she sent presently for proper
+agents that bought them, being in her hands, without any scruple, and
+gave good prices too.
+
+I now began to think this necessary woman might help me a little in my
+low condition to some business, for I would gladly have turned my hand
+to any honest employment if I could have got it. But here she was
+deficient; honest business did not come within her reach. If I had been
+younger, perhaps she might have helped me to a spark, but my thoughts
+were off that kind of livelihood, as being quite out of the way after
+fifty, which was my case, and so I told her.
+
+She invited me at last to come, and be at her house till I could find
+something to do, and it should cost me very little, and this I gladly
+accepted of. And now living a little easier, I entered into some
+measures to have my little son by my last husband taken off; and this
+she made easy too, reserving a payment only of £5 a year, if I could
+pay it. This was such a help to me, that for a good while I left off
+the wicked trade that I had so newly taken up; and gladly I would have
+got my bread by the help of my needle if I could have got work, but
+that was very hard to do for one that had no manner of acquaintance in
+the world.
+
+However, at last I got some quilting work for ladies’ beds, petticoats,
+and the like; and this I liked very well, and worked very hard, and
+with this I began to live; but the diligent devil, who resolved I
+should continue in his service, continually prompted me to go out and
+take a walk, that is to say, to see if anything would offer in the old
+way.
+
+One evening I blindly obeyed his summons, and fetched a long circuit
+through the streets, but met with no purchase, and came home very weary
+and empty; but not content with that, I went out the next evening too,
+when going by an alehouse I saw the door of a little room open, next
+the very street, and on the table a silver tankard, things much in use
+in public-houses at that time. It seems some company had been drinking
+there, and the careless boys had forgot to take it away.
+
+I went into the box frankly, and setting the silver tankard on the
+corner of the bench, I sat down before it, and knocked with my foot; a
+boy came presently, and I bade him fetch me a pint of warm ale, for it
+was cold weather; the boy ran, and I heard him go down the cellar to
+draw the ale. While the boy was gone, another boy came into the room,
+and cried, “D’ ye call?” I spoke with a melancholy air, and said, “No,
+child; the boy is gone for a pint of ale for me.”
+
+While I sat here, I heard the woman in the bar say, “Are they all gone
+in the five?” which was the box I sat in, and the boy said, “Yes.” “Who
+fetched the tankard away?” says the woman. “I did,” says another boy;
+“that’s it,” pointing, it seems, to another tankard, which he had
+fetched from another box by mistake; or else it must be, that the rogue
+forgot that he had not brought it in, which certainly he had not.
+
+I heard all this, much to my satisfaction, for I found plainly that the
+tankard was not missed, and yet they concluded it was fetched away; so
+I drank my ale, called to pay, and as I went away I said, “Take care of
+your plate, child,” meaning a silver pint mug, which he brought me
+drink in. The boy said, “Yes, madam, very welcome,” and away I came.
+
+I came home to my governess, and now I thought it was a time to try
+her, that if I might be put to the necessity of being exposed, she
+might offer me some assistance. When I had been at home some time, and
+had an opportunity of talking to her, I told her I had a secret of the
+greatest consequence in the world to commit to her, if she had respect
+enough for me to keep it a secret. She told me she had kept one of my
+secrets faithfully; why should I doubt her keeping another? I told her
+the strangest thing in the world had befallen me, and that it had made
+a thief of me, even without any design, and so told her the whole story
+of the tankard. “And have you brought it away with you, my dear?” says
+she. “To be sure I have,” says I, and showed it her. “But what shall I
+do now,” says I; “must not carry it again?”
+
+“Carry it again!” says she. “Ay, if you are minded to be sent to
+Newgate for stealing it.” “Why,” says I, “they can’t be so base to stop
+me, when I carry it to them again?” “You don’t know those sort of
+people, child,” says she; “they’ll not only carry you to Newgate, but
+hang you too, without any regard to the honesty of returning it; or
+bring in an account of all the other tankards they have lost, for you
+to pay for.” “What must I do, then?” says I. “Nay,” says she, “as you
+have played the cunning part and stole it, you must e’en keep it;
+there’s no going back now. Besides, child,” says she, “don’t you want
+it more than they do? I wish you could light of such a bargain once a
+week.”
+
+This gave me a new notion of my governess, and that since she was
+turned pawnbroker, she had a sort of people about her that were none of
+the honest ones that I had met with there before.
+
+I had not been long there but I discovered it more plainly than before,
+for every now and then I saw hilts of swords, spoons, forks, tankards,
+and all such kind of ware brought in, not to be pawned, but to be sold
+downright; and she bought everything that came without asking any
+questions, but had very good bargains, as I found by her discourse.
+
+I found also that in following this trade she always melted down the
+plate she bought, that it might not be challenged; and she came to me
+and told me one morning that she was going to melt, and if I would, she
+would put my tankard in, that it might not be seen by anybody. I told
+her, with all my heart; so she weighed it, and allowed me the full
+value in silver again; but I found she did not do the same to the rest
+of her customers.
+
+Some time after this, as I was at work, and very melancholy, she begins
+to ask me what the matter was, as she was used to do. I told her my
+heart was heavy; I had little work, and nothing to live on, and knew
+not what course to take. She laughed, and told me I must go out again
+and try my fortune; it might be that I might meet with another piece of
+plate. “O mother!” says I, “that is a trade I have no skill in, and if
+I should be taken I am undone at once.” Says she, “I could help you to
+a schoolmistress that shall make you as dexterous as herself.” I
+trembled at that proposal, for hitherto I had had no confederates, nor
+any acquaintance among that tribe. But she conquered all my modesty,
+and all my fears; and in a little time, by the help of this
+confederate, I grew as impudent a thief, and as dexterous as ever Moll
+Cutpurse was, though, if fame does not belie her, not half so handsome.
+
+The comrade she helped me to dealt in three sorts of craft, viz.
+shoplifting, stealing of shop-books and pocket-books, and taking off
+gold watches from the ladies’ sides; and this last she did so
+dexterously that no woman ever arrived to the performance of that art
+so as to do it like her. I liked the first and the last of these things
+very well, and I attended her some time in the practice, just as a
+deputy attends a midwife, without any pay.
+
+At length she put me to practice. She had shown me her art, and I had
+several times unhooked a watch from her own side with great dexterity.
+At last she showed me a prize, and this was a young lady big with
+child, who had a charming watch. The thing was to be done as she came
+out of church. She goes on one side of the lady, and pretends, just as
+she came to the steps, to fall, and fell against the lady with so much
+violence as put her into a great fright, and both cried out terribly.
+In the very moment that she jostled the lady, I had hold of the watch,
+and holding it the right way, the start she gave drew the hook out, and
+she never felt it. I made off immediately, and left my schoolmistress
+to come out of her pretended fright gradually, and the lady too; and
+presently the watch was missed. “Ay,” says my comrade, “then it was
+those rogues that thrust me down, I warrant ye; I wonder the
+gentlewoman did not miss her watch before, then we might have taken
+them.”
+
+She humoured the thing so well that nobody suspected her, and I was got
+home a full hour before her. This was my first adventure in company.
+The watch was indeed a very fine one, and had a great many trinkets
+about it, and my governess allowed us £20 for it, of which I had half.
+And thus I was entered a complete thief, hardened to the pitch above
+all the reflections of conscience or modesty, and to a degree which I
+must acknowledge I never thought possible in me.
+
+Thus the devil, who began, by the help of an irresistible poverty, to
+push me into this wickedness, brought me on to a height beyond the
+common rate, even when my necessities were not so great, or the
+prospect of my misery so terrifying; for I had now got into a little
+vein of work, and as I was not at a loss to handle my needle, it was
+very probable, as acquaintance came in, I might have got my bread
+honestly enough.
+
+I must say, that if such a prospect of work had presented itself at
+first, when I began to feel the approach of my miserable
+circumstances—I say, had such a prospect of getting my bread by working
+presented itself then, I had never fallen into this wicked trade, or
+into such a wicked gang as I was now embarked with; but practice had
+hardened me, and I grew audacious to the last degree; and the more so
+because I had carried it on so long, and had never been taken; for, in
+a word, my new partner in wickedness and I went on together so long,
+without being ever detected, that we not only grew bold, but we grew
+rich, and we had at one time one-and-twenty gold watches in our hands.
+
+I remember that one day being a little more serious than ordinary, and
+finding I had so good a stock beforehand as I had, for I had near £200
+in money for my share, it came strongly into my mind, no doubt from
+some kind spirit, if such there be, that at first poverty excited me,
+and my distresses drove me to these dreadful shifts; so seeing those
+distresses were now relieved, and I could also get something towards a
+maintenance by working, and had so good a bank to support me, why
+should I now not leave off, as they say, while I was well? that I could
+not expect to go always free; and if I was once surprised, and
+miscarried, I was undone.
+
+This was doubtless the happy minute, when, if I had hearkened to the
+blessed hint, from whatsoever had it came, I had still a cast for an
+easy life. But my fate was otherwise determined; the busy devil that so
+industriously drew me in had too fast hold of me to let me go back; but
+as poverty brought me into the mire, so avarice kept me in, till there
+was no going back. As to the arguments which my reason dictated for
+persuading me to lay down, avarice stepped in and said, “Go on, go on;
+you have had very good luck; go on till you have gotten four or five
+hundred pounds, and then you shall leave off, and then you may live
+easy without working at all.”
+
+Thus I, that was once in the devil’s clutches, was held fast there as
+with a charm, and had no power to go without the circle, till I was
+engulfed in labyrinths of trouble too great to get out at all.
+
+However, these thoughts left some impression upon me, and made me act
+with some more caution than before, and more than my directors used for
+themselves. My comrade, as I called her, but rather she should have
+been called my teacher, with another of her scholars, was the first in
+the misfortune; for, happening to be upon the hunt for purchase, they
+made an attempt upon a linen-draper in Cheapside, but were snapped by a
+hawk’s-eyed journeyman, and seized with two pieces of cambric, which
+were taken also upon them.
+
+This was enough to lodge them both in Newgate, where they had the
+misfortune to have some of their former sins brought to remembrance.
+Two other indictments being brought against them, and the facts being
+proved upon them, they were both condemned to die. They both pleaded
+their bellies, and were both voted quick with child; though my tutoress
+was no more with child than I was.
+
+I went frequently to see them, and condole with them, expecting that it
+would be my turn next; but the place gave me so much horror, reflecting
+that it was the place of my unhappy birth, and of my mother’s
+misfortunes, and that I could not bear it, so I was forced to leave off
+going to see them.
+
+And oh! could I have but taken warning by their disasters, I had been
+happy still, for I was yet free, and had nothing brought against me;
+but it could not be, my measure was not yet filled up.
+
+My comrade, having the brand of an old offender, was executed; the
+young offender was spared, having obtained a reprieve, but lay starving
+a long while in prison, till at last she got her name into what they
+call a circuit pardon, and so came off.
+
+This terrible example of my comrade frighted me heartily, and for a
+good while I made no excursions; but one night, in the neighbourhood of
+my governess’s house, they cried “Fire.” My governess looked out, for
+we were all up, and cried immediately that such a gentlewoman’s house
+was all of a light fire atop, and so indeed it was. Here she gives me a
+job. “Now, child,” says she, “there is a rare opportunity, for the fire
+being so near that you may go to it before the street is blocked up
+with the crowd.” She presently gave me my cue. “Go, child,” says she,
+“to the house, and run in and tell the lady, or anybody you see, that
+you come to help them, and that you came from such a gentlewoman (that
+is, one of her acquaintance farther up the street).” She gave me the
+like cue to the next house, naming another name that was also an
+acquaintance of the gentlewoman of the house.
+
+Away I went, and, coming to the house, I found them all in confusion,
+you may be sure. I ran in, and finding one of the maids, “Lord!
+sweetheart,” says I, “how came this dismal accident? Where is your
+mistress? Any how does she do? Is she safe? And where are the children?
+I come from Madam —— to help you.” Away runs the maid. “Madam, madam,”
+says she, screaming as loud as she could yell, “here is a gentlewoman
+come from Madam —— to help us.” The poor woman, half out of her wits,
+with a bundle under her arm, an two little children, comes toward me.
+“Lord! madam,” says I, “let me carry the poor children to Madam ——,”
+she desires you to send them; she’ll take care of the poor lambs;’ and
+immediately I takes one of them out of her hand, and she lifts the
+other up into my arms. “Ay, do, for God’s sake,” says she, “carry them
+to her. Oh! thank her for her kindness.” “Have you anything else to
+secure, madam?” says I; “she will take care of it.” “Oh dear! ay,” says
+she, “God bless her, and thank her. Take this bundle of plate and carry
+it to her too. Oh, she is a good woman. Oh Lord! we are utterly ruined,
+utterly undone!” And away she runs from me out of her wits, and the
+maids after her; and away comes I with the two children and the bundle.
+
+I was no sooner got into the street but I saw another woman come to me.
+“Oh!” says she, “mistress,” in a piteous tone, “you will let fall the
+child. Come, this is a sad time; let me help you”; and immediately lays
+hold of my bundle to carry it for me. “No,” says I; “if you will help
+me, take the child by the hand, and lead it for me but to the upper end
+of the street; I’ll go with you and satisfy you for your pains.”
+
+She could not avoid going, after what I said; but the creature, in
+short, was one of the same business with me, and wanted nothing but the
+bundle; however, she went with me to the door, for she could not help
+it. When we were come there I whispered her, “Go, child,” said I, “I
+understand your trade; you may meet with purchase enough.”
+
+She understood me and walked off. I thundered at the door with the
+children, and as the people were raised before by the noise of the
+fire, I was soon let in, and I said, “Is madam awake? Pray tell her
+Mrs. —— desires the favour of her to take the two children in; poor
+lady, she will be undone, their house is all of a flame,” They took the
+children in very civilly, pitied the family in distress, and away came
+I with my bundle. One of the maids asked me if I was not to leave the
+bundle too. I said, “No, sweetheart, ’tis to go to another place; it
+does not belong to them.”
+
+I was a great way out of the hurry now, and so I went on, clear of
+anybody’s inquiry, and brought the bundle of plate, which was very
+considerable, straight home, and gave it to my old governess. She told
+me she would not look into it, but bade me go out again to look for
+more.
+
+She gave me the like cue to the gentlewoman of the next house to that
+which was on fire, and I did my endeavour to go, but by this time the
+alarm of fire was so great, and so many engines playing, and the street
+so thronged with people, that I could not get near the house whatever I
+would do; so I came back again to my governess’s, and taking the bundle
+up into my chamber, I began to examine it. It is with horror that I
+tell what a treasure I found there; ’tis enough to say, that besides
+most of the family plate, which was considerable, I found a gold chain,
+an old-fashioned thing, the locket of which was broken, so that I
+suppose it had not been used some years, but the gold was not the worse
+for that; also a little box of burying-rings, the lady’s wedding-ring,
+and some broken bits of old lockets of gold, a gold watch, and a purse
+with about £24 value in old pieces of gold coin, and several other
+things of value.
+
+This was the greatest and the worst prize that ever I was concerned in;
+for indeed, though, as I have said above, I was hardened now beyond the
+power of all reflection in other cases, yet it really touched me to the
+very soul when I looked into this treasure, to think of the poor
+disconsolate gentlewoman who had lost so much by the fire besides; and
+who would think, to be sure, that she had saved her plate and best
+things; how she would be surprised and afflicted when she should find
+that she had been deceived, and should find that the person that took
+her children and her goods, had not come, as was pretended, from the
+gentlewoman in the next street, but that the children had been put upon
+her without her own knowledge.
+
+I say, I confess the inhumanity of this action moved me very much, and
+made me relent exceedingly, and tears stood in my eyes upon that
+subject; but with all my sense of its being cruel and inhuman, I could
+never find in my heart to make any restitution. The reflection wore
+off, and I began quickly to forget the circumstances that attended the
+taking them.
+
+Nor was this all; for though by this job I was become considerably
+richer than before, yet the resolution I had formerly taken, of leaving
+off this horrid trade when I had gotten a little more, did not return,
+but I must still get farther, and more; and the avarice joined so with
+the success, that I had no more thought of coming to a timely
+alteration of life, though without it I could expect no safety, no
+tranquillity in the possession of what I had so wickedly gained; but a
+little more, and a little more, was the case still.
+
+At length, yielding to the importunities of my crime, I cast off all
+remorse and repentance, and all the reflections on that head turned to
+no more than this, that I might perhaps come to have one booty more
+that might complete my desires; but though I certainly had that one
+booty, yet every hit looked towards another, and was so encouraging to
+me to go on with the trade, that I had no gust to the thought of laying
+it down.
+
+In this condition, hardened by success, and resolving to go on, I fell
+into the snare in which I was appointed to meet with my last reward for
+this kind of life. But even this was not yet, for I met with several
+successful adventures more in this way of being undone.
+
+I remained still with my governess, who was for a while really
+concerned for the misfortune of my comrade that had been hanged, and
+who, it seems, knew enough of my governess to have sent her the same
+way, and which made her very uneasy; indeed, she was in a very great
+fright.
+
+It is true that when she was gone, and had not opened mouth to tell
+what she knew, my governess was easy as to that point, and perhaps glad
+she was hanged, for it was in her power to have obtained a pardon at
+the expense of her friends; but on the other hand, the loss of her, and
+the sense of her kindness in not making her market of what she knew,
+moved my governess to mourn very sincerely for her. I comforted her as
+well as I could, and she in return hardened me to merit more completely
+the same fate.
+
+However, as I have said, it made me the more wary, and particularly I
+was very shy of shoplifting, especially among the mercers and drapers,
+who are a set of fellows that have their eyes very much about them. I
+made a venture or two among the lace folks and the milliners, and
+particularly at one shop where I got notice of two young women who were
+newly set up, and had not been bred to the trade. There I think I
+carried off a piece of bone-lace, worth six or seven pounds, and a
+paper of thread. But this was but once; it was a trick that would not
+serve again.
+
+It was always reckoned a safe job when we heard of a new shop, and
+especially when the people were such as were not bred to shops. Such
+may depend upon it that they will be visited once or twice at their
+beginning, and they must be very sharp indeed if they can prevent it.
+
+I made another adventure or two, but they were but trifles too, though
+sufficient to live on. After this nothing considerable offering for a
+good while, I began to think that I must give over the trade in
+earnest; but my governess, who was not willing to lose me, and expected
+great things of me, brought me one day into company with a young woman
+and a fellow that went for her husband, though as it appeared
+afterwards, she was not his wife, but they were partners, it seems, in
+the trade they carried on, and partners in something else. In short,
+they robbed together, lay together, were taken together, and at last
+were hanged together.
+
+I came into a kind of league with these two by the help of my
+governess, and they carried me out into three or four adventures, where
+I rather saw them commit some coarse and unhandy robberies, in which
+nothing but a great stock of impudence on their side, and gross
+negligence on the people’s side who were robbed, could have made them
+successful. So I resolved from that time forward to be very cautious
+how I adventured upon anything with them; and indeed, when two or three
+unlucky projects were proposed by them, I declined the offer, and
+persuaded them against it. One time they particularly proposed robbing
+a watchmaker of three gold watches, which they had eyed in the daytime,
+and found the place where he laid them. One of them had so many keys of
+all kinds, that he made no question to open the place where the
+watchmaker had laid them; and so we made a kind of an appointment; but
+when I came to look narrowly into the thing, I found they proposed
+breaking open the house, and this, as a thing out of my way, I would
+not embark in, so they went without me. They did get into the house by
+main force, and broke up the locked place where the watches were, but
+found but one of the gold watches, and a silver one, which they took,
+and got out of the house again very clear. But the family, being
+alarmed, cried out “Thieves,” and the man was pursued and taken; the
+young woman had got off too, but unhappily was stopped at a distance,
+and the watches found upon her. And thus I had a second escape, for
+they were convicted, and both hanged, being old offenders, though but
+young people. As I said before that they robbed together and lay
+together, so now they hanged together, and there ended my new
+partnership.
+
+I began now to be very wary, having so narrowly escaped a scouring, and
+having such an example before me; but I had a new tempter, who prompted
+me every day—I mean my governess; and now a prize presented, which as
+it came by her management, so she expected a good share of the booty.
+There was a good quantity of Flanders lace lodged in a private house,
+where she had gotten intelligence of it, and Flanders lace being
+prohibited, it was a good booty to any custom-house officer that could
+come at it. I had a full account from my governess, as well of the
+quantity as of the very place where it was concealed, and I went to a
+custom-house officer, and told him I had such a discovery to make to
+him of such a quantity of lace, if he would assure me that I should
+have my due share of the reward. This was so just an offer, that
+nothing could be fairer; so he agreed, and taking a constable and me
+with him, we beset the house. As I told him I could go directly to the
+place, he left it to me; and the hole being very dark, I squeezed
+myself into it, with a candle in my hand, and so reached the pieces out
+to him, taking care as I gave him some so to secure as much about
+myself as I could conveniently dispose of. There was near £300 worth of
+lace in the hole, and I secured about £50 worth of it to myself. The
+people of the house were not owners of the lace, but a merchant who had
+entrusted them with it; so that they were not so surprised as I thought
+they would be.
+
+I left the officer overjoyed with his prize, and fully satisfied with
+what he had got, and appointed to meet him at a house of his own
+directing, where I came after I had disposed of the cargo I had about
+me, of which he had not the least suspicion. When I came to him he
+began to capitulate with me, believing I did not understand the right I
+had to a share in the prize, and would fain have put me off with £20,
+but I let him know that I was not so ignorant as he supposed I was; and
+yet I was glad, too, that he offered to bring me to a certainty.
+
+I asked £100, and he rose up to £30; I fell to £80, and he rose again
+to £40; in a word, he offered £50, and I consented, only demanding a
+piece of lace, which I thought came to about £8 or £9, as if it had
+been for my own wear, and he agreed to it. So I got £50 in money paid
+me that same night, and made an end of the bargain; nor did he ever
+know who I was, or where to inquire for me, so that if it had been
+discovered that part of the goods were embezzled, he could have made no
+challenge upon me for it.
+
+I very punctually divided this spoil with my governess, and I passed
+with her from this time for a very dexterous manager in the nicest
+cases. I found that this last was the best and easiest sort of work
+that was in my way, and I made it my business to inquire out prohibited
+goods, and after buying some, usually betrayed them, but none of these
+discoveries amounted to anything considerable, not like that I related
+just now; but I was willing to act safe, and was still cautious of
+running the great risks which I found others did, and in which they
+miscarried every day.
+
+The next thing of moment was an attempt at a gentlewoman’s good watch.
+It happened in a crowd, at a meeting-house, where I was in very great
+danger of being taken. I had full hold of her watch, but giving a great
+jostle, as if somebody had thrust me against her, and in the juncture
+giving the watch a fair pull, I found it would not come, so I let it go
+that moment, and cried out as if I had been killed, that somebody had
+trod upon my foot, and that there were certainly pickpockets there, for
+somebody or other had given a pull at my watch; for you are to observe
+that on these adventures we always went very well dressed, and I had
+very good clothes on, and a gold watch by my side, as like a lady as
+other fold.
+
+I had no sooner said so, but the other gentlewoman cried out “A
+pickpocket” too, for somebody, she said, had tried to pull her watch
+away.
+
+When I touched her watch I was close to her, but when I cried out I
+stopped as it were short, and the crowd bearing her forward a little,
+she made a noise too, but it was at some distance from me, so that she
+did not in the least suspect me; but when she cried out “A pickpocket,”
+somebody cried, “Ay, and here has been another! this gentlewoman has
+been attempted too.”
+
+At that very instance, a little farther in the crowd, and very luckily
+too, they cried out “A pickpocket,” again, and really seized a young
+fellow in the very act. This, though unhappy for the wretch, was very
+opportunely for my case, though I had carried it off handsomely enough
+before; but now it was out of doubt, and all the loose part of the
+crowd ran that way, and the poor boy was delivered up to the rage of
+the street, which is a cruelty I need not describe, and which, however,
+they are always glad of, rather than to be sent to Newgate, where they
+lie often a long time, till they are almost perished, and sometimes
+they are hanged, and the best they can look for, if they are convicted,
+is to be transported.
+
+This was a narrow escape to me, and I was so frighted that I ventured
+no more at gold watches a great while. There was indeed a great many
+concurring circumstances in this adventure which assisted to my escape;
+but the chief was, that the woman whose watch I had pulled at was a
+fool; that is to say, she was ignorant of the nature of the attempt,
+which one would have thought she should not have been, seeing she was
+wise enough to fasten her watch so that it could not be slipped up. But
+she was in such a fright that she had no thought about her proper for
+the discovery; for she, when she felt the pull, screamed out, and
+pushed herself forward, and put all the people about her into disorder,
+but said not a word of her watch, or of a pickpocket, for at least two
+minutes’ time, which was time enough for me, and to spare. For as I had
+cried out behind her, as I have said, and bore myself back in the crowd
+as she bore forward, there were several people, at least seven or
+eight, the throng being still moving on, that were got between me and
+her in that time, and then I crying out “A pickpocket,” rather sooner
+than she, or at least as soon, she might as well be the person
+suspected as I, and the people were confused in their inquiry; whereas,
+had she with a presence of mind needful on such an occasion, as soon as
+she felt the pull, not screamed out as she did, but turned immediately
+round and seized the next body that was behind her, she had infallibly
+taken me.
+
+This is a direction not of the kindest sort to the fraternity, but ’tis
+certainly a key to the clue of a pickpocket’s motions, and whoever can
+follow it will as certainly catch the thief as he will be sure to miss
+if he does not.
+
+I had another adventure, which puts this matter out of doubt, and which
+may be an instruction for posterity in the case of a pickpocket. My
+good old governess, to give a short touch at her history, though she
+had left off the trade, was, as I may say, born a pickpocket, and, as I
+understood afterwards, had run through all the several degrees of that
+art, and yet had never been taken but once, when she was so grossly
+detected, that she was convicted and ordered to be transported; but
+being a woman of a rare tongue, and withal having money in her pocket,
+she found means, the ship putting into Ireland for provisions, to get
+on shore there, where she lived and practised her old trade for some
+years; when falling into another sort of bad company, she turned
+midwife and procuress, and played a hundred pranks there, which she
+gave me a little history of in confidence between us as we grew more
+intimate; and it was to this wicked creature that I owed all the art
+and dexterity I arrived to, in which there were few that ever went
+beyond me, or that practised so long without any misfortune.
+
+It was after those adventures in Ireland, and when she was pretty well
+known in that country, that she left Dublin and came over to England,
+where, the time of her transportation being not expired, she left her
+former trade, for fear of falling into bad hands again, for then she
+was sure to have gone to wreck. Here she set up the same trade she had
+followed in Ireland, in which she soon, by her admirable management and
+good tongue, arrived to the height which I have already described, and
+indeed began to be rich, though her trade fell off again afterwards, as
+I have hinted before.
+
+I mentioned thus much of the history of this woman here, the better to
+account for the concern she had in the wicked life I was now leading,
+into all the particulars of which she led me, as it were, by the hand,
+and gave me such directions, and I so well followed them, that I grew
+the greatest artist of my time and worked myself out of every danger
+with such dexterity, that when several more of my comrades ran
+themselves into Newgate presently, and by that time they had been half
+a year at the trade, I had now practised upwards of five years, and the
+people at Newgate did not so much as know me; they had heard much of me
+indeed, and often expected me there, but I always got off, though many
+times in the extremest danger.
+
+One of the greatest dangers I was now in, was that I was too well known
+among the trade, and some of them, whose hatred was owing rather to
+envy than any injury I had done them, began to be angry that I should
+always escape when they were always catched and hurried to Newgate.
+These were they that gave me the name of Moll Flanders; for it was no
+more of affinity with my real name or with any of the name I had ever
+gone by, than black is of kin to white, except that once, as before, I
+called myself Mrs. Flanders; when I sheltered myself in the Mint; but
+that these rogues never knew, nor could I ever learn how they came to
+give me the name, or what the occasion of it was.
+
+I was soon informed that some of these who were gotten fast into
+Newgate had vowed to impeach me; and as I knew that two or three of
+them were but too able to do it, I was under a great concern about it,
+and kept within doors for a good while. But my governess—whom I always
+made partner in my success, and who now played a sure game with me, for
+that she had a share of the gain and no share in the hazard—I say, my
+governess was something impatient of my leading such a useless,
+unprofitable life, as she called it; and she laid a new contrivance for
+my going abroad, and this was to dress me up in men’s clothes, and so
+put me into a new kind of practice.
+
+I was tall and personable, but a little too smooth-faced for a man;
+however, I seldom went abroad but in the night, it did well enough; but
+it was a long time before I could behave in my new clothes—I mean, as
+to my craft. It was impossible to be so nimble, so ready, so dexterous
+at these things in a dress so contrary to nature; and I did everything
+clumsily, so I had neither the success nor the easiness of escape that
+I had before, and I resolved to leave it off; but that resolution was
+confirmed soon after by the following accident.
+
+As my governess disguised me like a man, so she joined me with a man, a
+young fellow that was nimble enough at his business, and for about
+three weeks we did very well together. Our principal trade was watching
+shopkeepers’ counters, and slipping off any kind of goods we could see
+carelessly laid anywhere, and we made several good bargains, as we
+called them, at this work. And as we kept always together, so we grew
+very intimate, yet he never knew that I was not a man, nay, though I
+several times went home with him to his lodgings, according as our
+business directed, and four or five times lay with him all night. But
+our design lay another way, and it was absolutely necessary to me to
+conceal my sex from him, as appeared afterwards. The circumstances of
+our living, coming in late, and having such and such business to do as
+required that nobody should be trusted with the coming into our
+lodgings, were such as made it impossible to me to refuse lying with
+him, unless I would have owned my sex; and as it was, I effectually
+concealed myself. But his ill, and my good fortune, soon put an end to
+this life, which I must own I was sick of too, on several other
+accounts. We had made several prizes in this new way of business, but
+the last would be extraordinary. There was a shop in a certain street
+which had a warehouse behind it that looked into another street, the
+house making the corner of the turning.
+
+Through the window of the warehouse we saw, lying on the counter or
+showboard, which was just before it, five pieces of silks, besides
+other stuffs, and though it was almost dark, yet the people, being busy
+in the fore-shop with customers, had not had time to shut up those
+windows, or else had forgot it.
+
+This the young fellow was so overjoyed with, that he could not restrain
+himself. It lay all within his reach he said, and he swore violently to
+me that he would have it, if he broke down the house for it. I
+dissuaded him a little, but saw there was no remedy; so he ran rashly
+upon it, slipped out a square of the sash window dexterously enough,
+and without noise, and got out four pieces of the silks, and came with
+them towards me, but was immediately pursued with a terrible clutter
+and noise. We were standing together indeed, but I had not taken any of
+the goods out of his hand, when I said to him hastily, “You are undone,
+fly, for God’s sake!” He ran like lightning, and I too, but the pursuit
+was hotter after him because he had the goods, than after me. He
+dropped two of the pieces, which stopped them a little, but the crowd
+increased and pursued us both. They took him soon after with the other
+two pieces upon him, and then the rest followed me. I ran for it and
+got into my governess’s house whither some quick-eyed people followed
+me so warmly as to fix me there. They did not immediately knock, at the
+door, by which I got time to throw off my disguise and dress me in my
+own clothes; besides, when they came there, my governess, who had her
+tale ready, kept her door shut, and called out to them and told them
+there was no man come in there. The people affirmed there did a man
+come in there, and swore they would break open the door.
+
+My governess, not at all surprised, spoke calmly to them, told them
+they should very freely come and search her house, if they should bring
+a constable, and let in none but such as the constable would admit, for
+it was unreasonable to let in a whole crowd. This they could not
+refuse, though they were a crowd. So a constable was fetched
+immediately, and she very freely opened the door; the constable kept
+the door, and the men he appointed searched the house, my governess
+going with them from room to room. When she came to my room she called
+to me, and said aloud, “Cousin, pray open the door; here’s some
+gentlemen that must come and look into your room.”
+
+I had a little girl with me, which was my governess’s grandchild, as
+she called her; and I bade her open the door, and there sat I at work
+with a great litter of things about me, as if I had been at work all
+day, being myself quite undressed, with only night-clothes on my head,
+and a loose morning-gown wrapped about me. My governess made a kind of
+excuse for their disturbing me, telling me partly the occasion of it,
+and that she had no remedy but to open the doors to them, and let them
+satisfy themselves, for all she could say to them would not satisfy
+them. I sat still, and bid them search the room if they pleased, for if
+there was anybody in the house, I was sure they were not in my room;
+and as for the rest of the house, I had nothing to say to that, I did
+not understand what they looked for.
+
+Everything looked so innocent and so honest about me, that they treated
+me civiller than I expected, but it was not till they had searched the
+room to a nicety, even under the bed, in the bed, and everywhere else
+where it was possible anything could be hid. When they had done this,
+and could find nothing, they asked my pardon for troubling me, and went
+down.
+
+When they had thus searched the house from bottom to top, and then top
+to bottom, and could find nothing, they appeased the mob pretty well;
+but they carried my governess before the justice. Two men swore that
+they saw the man whom they pursued go into her house. My governess
+rattled and made a great noise that her house should be insulted, and
+that she should be used thus for nothing; that if a man did come in, he
+might go out again presently for aught she knew, for she was ready to
+make oath that no man had been within her doors all that day as she
+knew of (and that was very true indeed); that it might be indeed that
+as she was abovestairs, any fellow in a fright might find the door open
+and run in for shelter when he was pursued, but that she knew nothing
+of it; and if it had been so, he certainly went out again, perhaps at
+the other door, for she had another door into an alley, and so had made
+his escape and cheated them all.
+
+This was indeed probable enough, and the justice satisfied himself with
+giving her an oath that she had not received or admitted any man into
+her house to conceal him, or protect or hide him from justice. This
+oath she might justly take, and did so, and so she was dismissed.
+
+It is easy to judge what a fright I was in upon this occasion, and it
+was impossible for my governess ever to bring me to dress in that
+disguise again; for, as I told her, I should certainly betray myself.
+
+My poor partner in this mischief was now in a bad case, for he was
+carried away before my Lord Mayor, and by his worship committed to
+Newgate, and the people that took him were so willing, as well as able,
+to prosecute him, that they offered themselves to enter into
+recognisances to appear at the sessions and pursue the charge against
+him.
+
+However, he got his indictment deferred, upon promise to discover his
+accomplices, and particularly the man that was concerned with him in
+his robbery; and he failed not to do his endeavour, for he gave in my
+name, whom he called Gabriel Spencer, which was the name I went by to
+him; and here appeared the wisdom of my concealing my name and sex from
+him, which, if he had ever known I had been undone.
+
+He did all he could to discover this Gabriel Spencer; he described me,
+he discovered the place where he said I lodged, and, in a word, all the
+particulars that he could of my dwelling; but having concealed the main
+circumstances of my sex from him, I had a vast advantage, and he never
+could hear of me. He brought two or three families into trouble by his
+endeavouring to find me out, but they knew nothing of me, any more than
+that I had a fellow with me that they had seen, but knew nothing of.
+And as for my governess, though she was the means of his coming to me,
+yet it was done at second-hand, and he knew nothing of her.
+
+This turned to his disadvantage; for having promised discoveries, but
+not being able to make it good, it was looked upon as trifling with the
+justice of the city, and he was the more fiercely pursued by the
+shopkeepers who took him.
+
+I was, however, terribly uneasy all this while, and that I might be
+quite out of the way, I went away from my governess’s for a while; but
+not knowing wither to wander, I took a maid-servant with me, and took
+the stage-coach to Dunstable, to my old landlord and landlady, where I
+had lived so handsomely with my Lancashire husband. Here I told her a
+formal story, that I expected my husband every day from Ireland, and
+that I had sent a letter to him that I would meet him at Dunstable at
+her house, and that he would certainly land, if the wind was fair, in a
+few days, so that I was come to spend a few days with them till he
+should come, for he was either come post, or in the West Chester coach,
+I knew not which; but whichsoever it was, he would be sure to come to
+that house to meet me.
+
+My landlady was mighty glad to see me, and my landlord made such a stir
+with me, that if I had been a princess I could not have been better
+used, and here I might have been welcome a month or two if I had
+thought fit.
+
+But my business was of another nature. I was very uneasy (though so
+well disguised that it was scarce possible to detect me) lest this
+fellow should somehow or other find me out; and though he could not
+charge me with this robbery, having persuaded him not to venture, and
+having also done nothing in it myself but run away, yet he might have
+charged me with other things, and have bought his own life at the
+expense of mine.
+
+This filled me with horrible apprehensions. I had no recourse, no
+friend, no confidante but my old governess, and I knew no remedy but to
+put my life in her hands, and so I did, for I let her know where to
+send to me, and had several letters from her while I stayed here. Some
+of them almost scared me out my wits but at last she sent me the joyful
+news that he was hanged, which was the best news to me that I had heard
+a great while.
+
+I had stayed here five weeks, and lived very comfortably indeed (the
+secret anxiety of my mind excepted); but when I received this letter I
+looked pleasantly again, and told my landlady that I had received a
+letter from my spouse in Ireland, that I had the good news of his being
+very well, but had the bad news that his business would not permit him
+to come away so soon as he expected, and so I was like to go back again
+without him.
+
+My landlady complimented me upon the good news however, that I had
+heard he was well. “For I have observed, madam,” says she, “you hadn’t
+been so pleasant as you used to be; you have been over head and ears in
+care for him, I dare say,” says the good woman; “’tis easy to be seen
+there’s an alteration in you for the better,” says she. “Well, I am
+sorry the esquire can’t come yet,” says my landlord; “I should have
+been heartily glad to have seen him. But I hope, when you have certain
+news of his coming, you’ll take a step hither again, madam,” says he;
+“you shall be very welcome whenever you please to come.”
+
+With all these fine compliments we parted, and I came merry enough to
+London, and found my governess as well pleased as I was. And now she
+told me she would never recommend any partner to me again, for she
+always found, she said, that I had the best luck when I ventured by
+myself. And so indeed I had, for I was seldom in any danger when I was
+by myself, or if I was, I got out of it with more dexterity than when I
+was entangled with the dull measures of other people, who had perhaps
+less forecast, and were more rash and impatient than I; for though I
+had as much courage to venture as any of them, yet I used more caution
+before I undertook a thing, and had more presence of mind when I was to
+bring myself off.
+
+I have often wondered even at my own hardiness another way, that when
+all my companions were surprised and fell so suddenly into the hand of
+justice, and that I so narrowly escaped, yet I could not all this while
+enter into one serious resolution to leave off this trade, and
+especially considering that I was now very far from being poor; that
+the temptation of necessity, which is generally the introduction of all
+such wickedness, was now removed; for I had near £500 by me in ready
+money, on which I might have lived very well, if I had thought fit to
+have retired; but I say, I had not so much as the least inclination to
+leave off; no, not so much as I had before when I had but £200
+beforehand, and when I had no such frightful examples before my eyes as
+these were. From hence ’tis evident to me, that when once we are
+hardened in crime, no fear can affect us, no example give us any
+warning.
+
+I had indeed one comrade whose fate went very near me for a good while,
+though I wore it off too in time. That case was indeed very unhappy. I
+had made a prize of a piece of very good damask in a mercer’s shop, and
+went clear off myself, but had conveyed the piece to this companion of
+mine when we went out of the shop, and she went one way and I went
+another. We had not been long out of the shop but the mercer missed his
+piece of stuff, and sent his messengers, one one way and one another,
+and they presently seized her that had the piece, with the damask upon
+her. As for me, I had very luckily stepped into a house where there was
+a lace chamber, up one pair of stairs, and had the satisfaction, or the
+terror indeed, of looking out of the window upon the noise they made,
+and seeing the poor creature dragged away in triumph to the justice,
+who immediately committed her to Newgate.
+
+I was careful to attempt nothing in the lace chamber, but tumbled their
+goods pretty much to spend time; then bought a few yards of edging and
+paid for it, and came away very sad-hearted indeed for the poor woman,
+who was in tribulation for what I only had stolen.
+
+Here again my old caution stood me in good stead; namely, that though I
+often robbed with these people, yet I never let them know who I was, or
+where I lodged, nor could they ever find out my lodging, though they
+often endeavoured to watch me to it. They all knew me by the name of
+Moll Flanders, though even some of them rather believed I was she than
+knew me to be so. My name was public among them indeed, but how to find
+me out they knew not, nor so much as how to guess at my quarters,
+whether they were at the east end of the town or the west; and this
+wariness was my safety upon all these occasions.
+
+I kept close a great while upon the occasion of this woman’s disaster.
+I knew that if I should do anything that should miscarry, and should be
+carried to prison, she would be there and ready to witness against me,
+and perhaps save her life at my expense. I considered that I began to
+be very well known by name at the Old Bailey, though they did not know
+my face, and that if I should fall into their hands, I should be
+treated as an old offender; and for this reason I was resolved to see
+what this poor creature’s fate should be before I stirred abroad,
+though several times in her distress I conveyed money to her for her
+relief.
+
+At length she came to her trial. She pleaded she did not steal the
+thing, but that one Mrs. Flanders, as she heard her called (for she did
+not know her), gave the bundle to her after they came out of the shop,
+and bade her carry it home to her lodging. They asked her where this
+Mrs. Flanders was, but she could not produce her, neither could she
+give the least account of me; and the mercer’s men swearing positively
+that she was in the shop when the goods were stolen, that they
+immediately missed them, and pursued her, and found them upon her,
+thereupon the jury brought her in guilty; but the Court, considering
+that she was really not the person that stole the goods, an inferior
+assistant, and that it was very possible she could not find out this
+Mrs. Flanders, meaning me, though it would save her life, which indeed
+was true—I say, considering all this, they allowed her to be
+transported, which was the utmost favour she could obtain, only that
+the Court told her that if she could in the meantime produce the said
+Mrs. Flanders, they would intercede for her pardon; that is to say, if
+she could find me out, and hand me, she should not be transported. This
+I took care to make impossible to her, and so she was shipped off in
+pursuance of her sentence a little while after.
+
+I must repeat it again, that the fate of this poor woman troubled me
+exceedingly, and I began to be very pensive, knowing that I was really
+the instrument of her disaster; but the preservation of my own life,
+which was so evidently in danger, took off all my tenderness; and
+seeing that she was not put to death, I was very easy at her
+transportation, because she was then out of the way of doing me any
+mischief, whatever should happen.
+
+The disaster of this woman was some months before that of the
+last-recited story, and was indeed partly occasion of my governess
+proposing to dress me up in men’s clothes, that I might go about
+unobserved, as indeed I did; but I was soon tired of that disguise, as
+I have said, for indeed it exposed me to too many difficulties.
+
+I was now easy as to all fear of witnesses against me, for all those
+that had either been concerned with me, or that knew me by the name of
+Moll Flanders, were either hanged or transported; and if I should have
+had the misfortune to be taken, I might call myself anything else, as
+well as Moll Flanders, and no old sins could be placed into my account;
+so I began to run a-tick again with the more freedom, and several
+successful adventures I made, though not such as I had made before.
+
+We had at that time another fire happened not a great way off from the
+place where my governess lived, and I made an attempt there, as before,
+but as I was not soon enough before the crowd of people came in, and
+could not get to the house I aimed at, instead of a prize, I got a
+mischief, which had almost put a period to my life and all my wicked
+doings together; for the fire being very furious, and the people in a
+great fright in removing their goods, and throwing them out of window,
+a wench from out of a window threw a feather-bed just upon me. It is
+true, the bed being soft, it broke no bones; but as the weight was
+great, and made greater by the fall, it beat me down, and laid me dead
+for a while. Nor did the people concern themselves much to deliver me
+from it, or to recover me at all; but I lay like one dead and neglected
+a good while, till somebody going to remove the bed out of the way,
+helped me up. It was indeed a wonder the people in the house had not
+thrown other goods out after it, and which might have fallen upon it,
+and then I had been inevitably killed; but I was reserved for further
+afflictions.
+
+This accident, however, spoiled my market for that time, and I came
+home to my governess very much hurt and bruised, and frighted to the
+last degree, and it was a good while before she could set me upon my
+feet again.
+
+It was now a merry time of the year, and Bartholomew Fair was begun. I
+had never made any walks that way, nor was the common part of the fair
+of much advantage to me; but I took a turn this year into the
+cloisters, and among the rest I fell into one of the raffling shops. It
+was a thing of no great consequence to me, nor did I expect to make
+much of it; but there came a gentleman extremely well dressed and very
+rich, and as ’tis frequent to talk to everybody in those shops, he
+singled me out, and was very particular with me. First he told me he
+would put in for me to raffle, and did so; and some small matter coming
+to his lot, he presented it to me (I think it was a feather muff); then
+he continued to keep talking to me with a more than common appearance
+of respect, but still very civil, and much like a gentleman.
+
+He held me in talk so long, till at last he drew me out of the raffling
+place to the shop-door, and then to a walk in the cloister, still
+talking of a thousand things cursorily without anything to the purpose.
+At last he told me that, without compliment, he was charmed with my
+company, and asked me if I durst trust myself in a coach with him; he
+told me he was a man of honour, and would not offer anything to me
+unbecoming him as such. I seemed to decline it a while, but suffered
+myself to be importuned a little, and then yielded.
+
+I was at a loss in my thoughts to conclude at first what this gentleman
+designed; but I found afterwards he had had some drink in his head, and
+that he was not very unwilling to have some more. He carried me in the
+coach to the Spring Garden, at Knightsbridge, where we walked in the
+gardens, and he treated me very handsomely; but I found he drank very
+freely. He pressed me also to drink, but I declined it.
+
+Hitherto he kept his word with me, and offered me nothing amiss. We
+came away in the coach again, and he brought me into the streets, and
+by this time it was near ten o’clock at night, and he stopped the coach
+at a house where, it seems, he was acquainted, and where they made no
+scruple to show us upstairs into a room with a bed in it. At first I
+seemed to be unwilling to go up, but after a few words I yielded to
+that too, being willing to see the end of it, and in hope to make
+something of it at last. As for the bed, etc., I was not much concerned
+about that part.
+
+Here he began to be a little freer with me than he had promised; and I
+by little and little yielded to everything, so that, in a word, he did
+what he pleased with me; I need say no more. All this while he drank
+freely too, and about one in the morning we went into the coach again.
+The air and the shaking of the coach made the drink he had get more up
+in his head than it was before, and he grew uneasy in the coach, and
+was for acting over again what he had been doing before; but as I
+thought my game now secure, I resisted him, and brought him to be a
+little still, which had not lasted five minutes but he fell fast
+asleep.
+
+I took this opportunity to search him to a nicety. I took a gold watch,
+with a silk purse of gold, his fine full-bottom periwig and
+silver-fringed gloves, his sword and fine snuff-box, and gently opening
+the coach door, stood ready to jump out while the coach was going on;
+but the coach stopped in the narrow street beyond Temple Bar to let
+another coach pass, I got softly out, fastened the door again, and gave
+my gentleman and the coach the slip both together, and never heard more
+of them.
+
+This was an adventure indeed unlooked for, and perfectly undesigned by
+me; though I was not so past the merry part of life, as to forget how
+to behave, when a fop so blinded by his appetite should not know an old
+woman from a young. I did not indeed look so old as I was by ten or
+twelve years; yet I was not a young wench of seventeen, and it was easy
+enough to be distinguished. There is nothing so absurd, so surfeiting,
+so ridiculous, as a man heated by wine in his head, and wicked gust in
+his inclination together; he is in the possession of two devils at
+once, and can no more govern himself by his reason than a mill can
+grind without water; his vice tramples upon all that was in him that
+had any good in it, if any such thing there was; nay, his very sense is
+blinded by its own rage, and he acts absurdities even in his views;
+such a drinking more, when he is drunk already; picking up a common
+woman, without regard to what she is or who she is, whether sound or
+rotten, clean or unclean, whether ugly or handsome, whether old or
+young, and so blinded as not really to distinguish. Such a man is worse
+than a lunatic; prompted by his vicious, corrupted head, he no more
+knows what he is doing than this wretch of mine knew when I picked his
+pocket of his watch and his purse of gold.
+
+These are the men of whom Solomon says, “They go like an ox to the
+slaughter, till a dart strikes through their liver”; an admirable
+description, by the way, of the foul disease, which is a poisonous
+deadly contagion mingling with the blood, whose centre or foundation is
+in the liver; from whence, by the swift circulation of the whole mass,
+that dreadful nauseous plague strikes immediately through his liver,
+and his spirits are infected, his vitals stabbed through as with a
+dart.
+
+It is true this poor unguarded wretch was in no danger from me, though
+I was greatly apprehensive at first of what danger I might be in from
+him; but he was really to be pitied in one respect, that he seemed to
+be a good sort of man in himself; a gentleman that had no harm in his
+design; a man of sense, and of a fine behaviour, a comely handsome
+person, a sober solid countenance, a charming beautiful face, and
+everything that could be agreeable; only had unhappily had some drink
+the night before, had not been in bed, as he told me when we were
+together; was hot, and his blood fired with wine, and in that condition
+his reason, as it were asleep, had given him up.
+
+As for me, my business was his money, and what I could make of him; and
+after that, if I could have found out any way to have done it, I would
+have sent him safe home to his house and to his family, for ’twas ten
+to one but he had an honest, virtuous wife and innocent children, that
+were anxious for his safety, and would have been glad to have gotten
+him home, and have taken care of him till he was restored to himself.
+And then with what shame and regret would he look back upon himself!
+how would he reproach himself with associating himself with a whore!
+picked up in the worst of all holes, the cloister, among the dirt and
+filth of all the town! how would he be trembling for fear he had got
+the pox, for fear a dart had struck through his liver, and hate himself
+every time he looked back upon the madness and brutality of his
+debauch! how would he, if he had any principles of honour, as I verily
+believe he had—I say, how would he abhor the thought of giving any ill
+distemper, if he had it, as for aught he knew he might, to his modest
+and virtuous wife, and thereby sowing the contagion in the life-blood
+of his posterity.
+
+Would such gentlemen but consider the contemptible thoughts which the
+very women they are concerned with, in such cases as these, have of
+them, it would be a surfeit to them. As I said above, they value not
+the pleasure, they are raised by no inclination to the man, the passive
+jade thinks of no pleasure but the money; and when he is, as it were,
+drunk in the ecstasies of his wicked pleasure, her hands are in his
+pockets searching for what she can find there, and of which he can no
+more be sensible in the moment of his folly that he can forethink of it
+when he goes about it.
+
+I knew a woman that was so dexterous with a fellow, who indeed deserved
+no better usage, that while he was busy with her another way, conveyed
+his purse with twenty guineas in it out of his fob-pocket, where he had
+put it for fear of her, and put another purse with gilded counters in
+it into the room of it. After he had done, he says to her, “Now han’t
+you picked my pocket?” She jested with him, and told him she supposed
+he had not much to lose; he put his hand to his fob, and with his
+fingers felt that his purse was there, which fully satisfied him, and
+so she brought off his money. And this was a trade with her; she kept a
+sham gold watch, that is, a watch of silver gilt, and a purse of
+counters in her pocket to be ready on all such occasions, and I doubt
+not practiced it with success.
+
+I came home with this last booty to my governess, and really when I
+told her the story, it so affected her that she was hardly able to
+forbear tears, to know how such a gentleman ran a daily risk of being
+undone every time a glass of wine got into his head.
+
+But as to the purchase I got, and how entirely I stripped him, she told
+me it pleased her wonderfully. “Nay child,” says she, “the usage may,
+for aught I know, do more to reform him than all the sermons that ever
+he will hear in his life.” And if the remainder of the story be true,
+so it did.
+
+I found the next day she was wonderful inquisitive about this
+gentleman; the description I had given her of him, his dress, his
+person, his face, everything concurred to make her think of a gentleman
+whose character she knew, and family too. She mused a while, and I
+going still on with the particulars, she starts up; says she, “I’ll lay
+£100 I know the gentleman.”
+
+“I am sorry you do,” says I, “for I would not have him exposed on any
+account in the world; he has had injury enough already by me, and I
+would not be instrumental to do him any more.” “No, no,” says she, “I
+will do him no injury, I assure you, but you may let me satisfy my
+curiosity a little, for if it is he, I warrant you I find it out.” I
+was a little startled at that, and told her, with an apparent concern
+in my face, that by the same rule he might find me out, and then I was
+undone. She returned warmly, “Why, do you think I will betray you,
+child? No, no,” says she, “not for all he is worth in the world. I have
+kept your counsel in worse things than these; sure you may trust me in
+this.” So I said no more at that time.
+
+She laid her scheme another way, and without acquainting me of it, but
+she was resolved to find it out if possible. So she goes to a certain
+friend of hers who was acquainted in the family that she guessed at,
+and told her friend she had some extraordinary business with such a
+gentleman (who, by the way, was no less than a baronet, and of a very
+good family), and that she knew not how to come at him without somebody
+to introduce her. Her friend promised her very readily to do it, and
+accordingly goes to the house to see if the gentleman was in town.
+
+The next day she come to my governess and tells her that Sir —— was at
+home, but that he had met with a disaster and was very ill, and there
+was no speaking with him. “What disaster?” says my governess hastily,
+as if she was surprised at it. “Why,” says her friend, “he had been at
+Hampstead to visit a gentleman of his acquaintance, and as he came back
+again he was set upon and robbed; and having got a little drink too, as
+they suppose, the rogues abused him, and he is very ill.” “Robbed!”
+says my governess, “and what did they take from him?” “Why,” says her
+friend, “they took his gold watch and his gold snuff-box, his fine
+periwig, and what money he had in his pocket, which was considerable,
+to be sure, for Sir —— never goes without a purse of guineas about
+him.”
+
+“Pshaw!” says my old governess, jeering, “I warrant you he has got
+drunk now and got a whore, and she has picked his pocket, and so he
+comes home to his wife and tells her he has been robbed. That’s an old
+sham; a thousand such tricks are put upon the poor women every day.”
+
+“Fie!” says her friend, “I find you don’t know Sir ——; why he is as
+civil a gentleman, there is not a finer man, nor a soberer, graver,
+modester person in the whole city; he abhors such things; there’s
+nobody that knows him will think such a thing of him.” “Well, well,”
+says my governess, “that’s none of my business; if it was, I warrant I
+should find there was something of that kind in it; your modest men in
+common opinion are sometimes no better than other people, only they
+keep a better character, or, if you please, are the better hypocrites.”
+
+“No, no,” says her friend, “I can assure you Sir —— is no hypocrite, he
+is really an honest, sober gentleman, and he has certainly been
+robbed.” “Nay,” says my governess, “it may be he has; it is no business
+of mine, I tell you; I only want to speak with him; my business is of
+another nature.” “But,” says her friend, “let your business be of what
+nature it will, you cannot see him yet, for he is not fit to be seen,
+for he is very ill, and bruised very much.” “Ay,” says my governess,
+“nay, then he has fallen into bad hands, to be sure.” And then she
+asked gravely, “Pray, where is he bruised?” “Why, in the head,” says
+her friend, “and one of his hands, and his face, for they used him
+barbarously.” “Poor gentleman,” says my governess, “I must wait, then,
+till he recovers”; and adds, “I hope it will not be long, for I want
+very much to speak with him.”
+
+Away she comes to me and tells me this story. “I have found out your
+fine gentleman, and a fine gentleman he was,” says she; “but, mercy on
+him, he is in a sad pickle now. I wonder what the d—l you have done to
+him; why, you have almost killed him.” I looked at her with disorder
+enough. “I killed him!” says I; “you must mistake the person; I am sure
+I did nothing to him; he was very well when I left him,” said I, “only
+drunk and fast asleep.” “I know nothing of that,” says she, “but he is
+in a sad pickle now”; and so she told me all that her friend had said
+to her. “Well, then,” says I, “he fell into bad hands after I left him,
+for I am sure I left him safe enough.”
+
+About ten days after, or a little more, my governess goes again to her
+friend, to introduce her to this gentleman; she had inquired other ways
+in the meantime, and found that he was about again, if not abroad
+again, so she got leave to speak with him.
+
+She was a woman of a admirable address, and wanted nobody to introduce
+her; she told her tale much better than I shall be able to tell it for
+her, for she was a mistress of her tongue, as I have said already. She
+told him that she came, though a stranger, with a single design of
+doing him a service and he should find she had no other end in it; that
+as she came purely on so friendly an account, she begged promise from
+him, that if he did not accept what she should officiously propose he
+would not take it ill that she meddled with what was not her business.
+She assured him that as what she had to say was a secret that belonged
+to him only, so whether he accepted her offer or not, it should remain
+a secret to all the world, unless he exposed it himself; nor should his
+refusing her service in it make her so little show her respect as to do
+him the least injury, so that he should be entirely at liberty to act
+as he thought fit.
+
+He looked very shy at first, and said he knew nothing that related to
+him that required much secrecy; that he had never done any man any
+wrong, and cared not what anybody might say of him; that it was no part
+of his character to be unjust to anybody, nor could he imagine in what
+any man could render him any service; but that if it was so
+disinterested a service as she said, he could not take it ill from any
+one that they should endeavour to serve him; and so, as it were, left
+her a liberty either to tell him or not to tell, as she thought fit.
+
+She found him so perfectly indifferent, that she was almost afraid to
+enter into the point with him; but, however, after some other
+circumlocutions she told him that by a strange and unaccountable
+accident she came to have a particular knowledge of the late unhappy
+adventure he had fallen into, and that in such a manner, that there was
+nobody in the world but herself and him that were acquainted with it,
+no, not the very person that was with him.
+
+He looked a little angrily at first. “What adventure?” said he. “Why,”
+said she, “of your being robbed coming from Knightbr——; Hampstead, sir,
+I should say,” says she. “Be not surprised, sir,” says she, “that I am
+able to tell you every step you took that day from the cloister in
+Smithfield to the Spring Garden at Knightsbridge, and thence to the ——
+in the Strand, and how you were left asleep in the coach afterwards. I
+say, let not this surprise you, for, sir, I do not come to make a booty
+of you, I ask nothing of you, and I assure you the woman that was with
+you knows nothing who you are, and never shall; and yet perhaps I may
+serve you further still, for I did not come barely to let you know that
+I was informed of these things, as if I wanted a bribe to conceal them;
+assure yourself, sir,” said she, “that whatever you think fit to do or
+say to me, it shall be all a secret as it is, as much as if I were in
+my grave.”
+
+He was astonished at her discourse, and said gravely to her, “Madam,
+you are a stranger to me, but it is very unfortunate that you should be
+let into the secret of the worst action of my life, and a thing that I
+am so justly ashamed of, that the only satisfaction of it to me was,
+that I thought it was known only to God and my own conscience.” “Pray,
+sir,” says she, “do not reckon the discovery of it to me to be any part
+of your misfortune. It was a thing, I believe, you were surprised into,
+and perhaps the woman used some art to prompt you to it; however, you
+will never find any just cause,” said she, “to repent that I came to
+hear of it; nor can your own mouth be more silent in it that I have
+been, and ever shall be.”
+
+“Well,” says he, “but let me do some justice to the woman too; whoever
+she is, I do assure you she prompted me to nothing, she rather declined
+me. It was my own folly and madness that brought me into it all, ay,
+and brought her into it too; I must give her her due so far. As to what
+she took from me, I could expect no less from her in the condition I
+was in, and to this hour I know not whether she robbed me or the
+coachman; if she did it, I forgive her, and I think all gentlemen that
+do so should be used in the same manner; but I am more concerned for
+some other things that I am for all that she took from me.”
+
+My governess now began to come into the whole matter, and he opened
+himself freely to her. First she said to him, in answer to what he had
+said about me, “I am glad, sir, you are so just to the person that you
+were with; I assure you she is a gentlewoman, and no woman of the town;
+and however you prevailed with her so far as you did, I am sure ’tis
+not her practice. You ran a great venture indeed, sir; but if that be
+any part of your care, I am persuaded you may be perfectly easy, for I
+dare assure you no man has touched her, before you, since her husband,
+and he has been dead now almost eight years.”
+
+It appeared that this was his grievance, and that he was in a very
+great fright about it; however, when my governess said this to him, he
+appeared very well pleased, and said, “Well, madam, to be plain with
+you, if I was satisfied of that, I should not so much value what I
+lost; for, as to that, the temptation was great, and perhaps she was
+poor and wanted it.” “If she had not been poor, sir ——,” says my
+governess, “I assure you she would never have yielded to you; and as
+her poverty first prevailed with her to let you do as you did, so the
+same poverty prevailed with her to pay herself at last, when she saw
+you were in such a condition, that if she had not done it, perhaps the
+next coachman might have done it.”
+
+“Well,” says he, “much good may it do her. I say again, all the
+gentlemen that do so ought to be used in the same manner, and then they
+would be cautious of themselves. I have no more concern about it, but
+on the score which you hinted at before, madam.” Here he entered into
+some freedoms with her on the subject of what passed between us, which
+are not so proper for a woman to write, and the great terror that was
+upon his mind with relation to his wife, for fear he should have
+received any injury from me, and should communicate it farther; and
+asked her at last if she could not procure him an opportunity to speak
+with me. My governess gave him further assurances of my being a woman
+clear from any such thing, and that he was as entirely safe in that
+respect as he was with his own lady; but as for seeing me, she said it
+might be of dangerous consequence; but, however, that she would talk
+with me, and let him know my answer, using at the same time some
+arguments to persuade him not to desire it, and that it could be of no
+service to him, seeing she hoped he had no desire to renew a
+correspondence with me, and that on my account it was a kind of putting
+my life in his hands.
+
+He told her he had a great desire to see me, that he would give her any
+assurances that were in his power, not to take any advantages of me,
+and that in the first place he would give me a general release from all
+demands of any kind. She insisted how it might tend to a further
+divulging the secret, and might in the end be injurious to him,
+entreating him not to press for it; so at length he desisted.
+
+They had some discourse upon the subject of the things he had lost, and
+he seemed to be very desirous of his gold watch, and told her if she
+could procure that for him, he would willingly give as much for it as
+it was worth. She told him she would endeavour to procure it for him,
+and leave the valuing it to himself.
+
+Accordingly the next day she carried the watch, and he gave her thirty
+guineas for it, which was more than I should have been able to make of
+it, though it seems it cost much more. He spoke something of his
+periwig, which it seems cost him threescore guineas, and his snuff-box,
+and in a few days more she carried them too; which obliged him very
+much, and he gave her thirty more. The next day I sent him his fine
+sword and cane gratis, and demanded nothing of him, but I had no mind
+to see him, unless it had been so that he might be satisfied I knew who
+he was, which he was not willing to.
+
+Then he entered into a long talk with her of the manner how she came to
+know all this matter. She formed a long tale of that part; how she had
+it from one that I had told the whole story to, and that was to help me
+dispose of the goods; and this confidante brought the things to her,
+she being by profession a pawnbroker; and she hearing of his worship’s
+disaster, guessed at the thing in general; that having gotten the
+things into her hands, she had resolved to come and try as she had
+done. She then gave him repeated assurances that it should never go out
+of her mouth, and though she knew the woman very well, yet she had not
+let her know, meaning me, anything of it; that is to say, who the
+person was, which, by the way, was false; but, however, it was not to
+his damage, for I never opened my mouth of it to anybody.
+
+I had a great many thoughts in my head about my seeing him again, and
+was often sorry that I had refused it. I was persuaded that if I had
+seen him, and let him know that I knew him, I should have made some
+advantage of him, and perhaps have had some maintenance from him; and
+though it was a life wicked enough, yet it was not so full of danger as
+this I was engaged in. However, those thoughts wore off, and I declined
+seeing him again, for that time; but my governess saw him often, and he
+was very kind to her, giving her something almost every time he saw
+her. One time in particular she found him very merry, and as she
+thought he had some wine in his head, and he pressed her again very
+earnestly to let him see that woman that, as he said, had bewitched him
+so that night, my governess, who was from the beginning for my seeing
+him, told him he was so desirous of it that she could almost yield of
+it, if she could prevail upon me; adding that if he would please to
+come to her house in the evening, she would endeavour it, upon his
+repeated assurances of forgetting what was past.
+
+Accordingly she came to me, and told me all the discourse; in short,
+she soon biassed me to consent, in a case which I had some regret in my
+mind for declining before; so I prepared to see him. I dressed me to
+all the advantage possible, I assure you, and for the first time used a
+little art; I say for the first time, for I had never yielded to the
+baseness of paint before, having always had vanity enough to believe I
+had no need of it.
+
+At the hour appointed he came; and as she observed before, so it was
+plain still, that he had been drinking, though very far from what we
+call being in drink. He appeared exceeding pleased to see me, and
+entered into a long discourse with me upon the old affair. I begged his
+pardon very often for my share of it, protested I had not any such
+design when first I met him, that I had not gone out with him but that
+I took him for a very civil gentleman, and that he made me so many
+promises of offering no uncivility to me.
+
+He alleged the wine he drank, and that he scarce knew what he did, and
+that if it had not been so, I should never have let him take the
+freedom with me that he had done. He protested to me that he never
+touched any woman but me since he was married to his wife, and it was a
+surprise upon him; complimented me upon being so particularly agreeable
+to him, and the like; and talked so much of that kind, till I found he
+had talked himself almost into a temper to do the same thing over
+again. But I took him up short. I protested I had never suffered any
+man to touch me since my husband died, which was near eight years. He
+said he believed it to be so truly; and added that madam had intimated
+as much to him, and that it was his opinion of that part which made his
+desire to see me again; and that since he had once broke in upon his
+virtue with me, and found no ill consequences, he could be safe in
+venturing there again; and so, in short, it went on to what I expected,
+and to what will not bear relating.
+
+My old governess had foreseen it, as well as I, and therefore led him
+into a room which had not a bed in it, and yet had a chamber within it
+which had a bed, whither we withdrew for the rest of the night; and, in
+short, after some time being together, he went to bed, and lay there
+all night. I withdrew, but came again undressed in the morning, before
+it was day, and lay with him the rest of the time.
+
+Thus, you see, having committed a crime once is a sad handle to the
+committing of it again; whereas all the regret and reflections wear off
+when the temptation renews itself. Had I not yielded to see him again,
+the corrupt desire in him had worn off, and ’tis very probable he had
+never fallen into it with anybody else, as I really believe he had not
+done before.
+
+When he went away, I told him I hoped he was satisfied he had not been
+robbed again. He told me he was satisfied in that point, and could
+trust me again, and putting his hand in his pocket, gave me five
+guineas, which was the first money I had gained that way for many
+years.
+
+I had several visits of the like kind from him, but he never came into
+a settled way of maintenance, which was what I would have best pleased
+with. Once, indeed, he asked me how I did to live. I answered him
+pretty quick, that I assured him I had never taken that course that I
+took with him, but that indeed I worked at my needle, and could just
+maintain myself; that sometime it was as much as I was able to do, and
+I shifted hard enough.
+
+He seemed to reflect upon himself that he should be the first person to
+lead me into that, which he assured me he never intended to do himself;
+and it touched him a little, he said, that he should be the cause of
+his own sin and mine too. He would often make just reflections also
+upon the crime itself, and upon the particular circumstances of it with
+respect to himself; how wine introduced the inclinations, how the devil
+led him to the place, and found out an object to tempt him, and he made
+the moral always himself.
+
+When these thoughts were upon him he would go away, and perhaps not
+come again in a month’s time or longer; but then as the serious part
+wore off, the lewd part would wear in, and then he came prepared for
+the wicked part. Thus we lived for some time; though he did not keep,
+as they call it, yet he never failed doing things that were handsome,
+and sufficient to maintain me without working, and, which was better,
+without following my old trade.
+
+But this affair had its end too; for after about a year, I found that
+he did not come so often as usual, and at last he left if off
+altogether without any dislike to bidding adieu; and so there was an
+end of that short scene of life, which added no great store to me, only
+to make more work for repentance.
+
+However, during this interval I confined myself pretty much at home; at
+least, being thus provided for, I made no adventures, no, not for a
+quarter of a year after he left me; but then finding the fund fail, and
+being loth to spend upon the main stock, I began to think of my old
+trade, and to look abroad into the street again; and my first step was
+lucky enough.
+
+I had dressed myself up in a very mean habit, for as I had several
+shapes to appear in, I was now in an ordinary stuff-gown, a blue apron,
+and a straw hat and I placed myself at the door of the Three Cups Inn
+in St. John Street. There were several carriers used the inn, and the
+stage-coaches for Barnet, for Totteridge, and other towns that way
+stood always in the street in the evening, when they prepared to set
+out, so that I was ready for anything that offered, for either one or
+other. The meaning was this; people come frequently with bundles and
+small parcels to those inns, and call for such carriers or coaches as
+they want, to carry them into the country; and there generally attend
+women, porters’ wives or daughters, ready to take in such things for
+their respective people that employ them.
+
+It happened very oddly that I was standing at the inn gate, and a woman
+that had stood there before, and which was the porter’s wife belonging
+to the Barnet stage-coach, having observed me, asked if I waited for
+any of the coaches. I told her Yes, I waited for my mistress, that was
+coming to go to Barnet. She asked me who was my mistress, and I told
+her any madam’s name that came next me; but as it seemed, I happened
+upon a name, a family of which name lived at Hadley, just beyond
+Barnet.
+
+I said no more to her, or she to me, a good while; but by and by,
+somebody calling her at a door a little way off, she desired me that if
+anybody called for the Barnet coach, I would step and call her at the
+house, which it seems was an alehouse. I said Yes, very readily, and
+away she went.
+
+She was no sooner gone but comes a wench and a child, puffing and
+sweating, and asks for the Barnet coach. I answered presently, “Here.”
+“Do you belong to the Barnet coach?” says she. “Yes, sweetheart,” said
+I; “what do ye want?” “I want room for two passengers,” says she.
+“Where are they, sweetheart?” said I. “Here’s this girl, pray let her
+go into the coach,” says she, “and I’ll go and fetch my mistress.”
+“Make haste, then, sweetheart,” says I, “for we may be full else.” The
+maid had a great bundle under her arm; so she put the child into the
+coach, and I said, “You had best put your bundle into the coach too.”
+“No,” says she, “I am afraid somebody should slip it away from the
+child.” “Give to me, then,” said I, “and I’ll take care of it.” “Do,
+then,” says she, “and be sure you take of it.” “I’ll answer for it,”
+said I, “if it were for £20 value.” “There, take it, then,” says she,
+and away she goes.
+
+As soon as I had got the bundle, and the maid was out of sight, I goes
+on towards the alehouse, where the porter’s wife was, so that if I had
+met her, I had then only been going to give her the bundle, and to call
+her to her business, as if I was going away, and could stay no longer;
+but as I did not meet her, I walked away, and turning into Charterhouse
+Lane, then crossed into Bartholomew Close, so into Little Britain, and
+through the Bluecoat Hospital, into Newgate Street.
+
+To prevent my being known, I pulled off my blue apron, and wrapped the
+bundle in it, which before was made up in a piece of painted calico,
+and very remarkable; I also wrapped up my straw hat in it, and so put
+the bundle upon my head; and it was very well that I did thus, for
+coming through the Bluecoat Hospital, who should I meet but the wench
+that had given me the bundle to hold. It seems she was going with her
+mistress, whom she had been gone to fetch, to the Barnet coaches.
+
+I saw she was in haste, and I had no business to stop her; so away she
+went, and I brought my bundle safe home to my governess. There was no
+money, nor plate, or jewels in the bundle, but a very good suit of
+Indian damask, a gown and a petticoat, a laced-head and ruffles of very
+good Flanders lace, and some linen and other things, such as I knew
+very well the value of.
+
+This was not indeed my own invention, but was given me by one that had
+practised it with success, and my governess liked it extremely; and
+indeed I tried it again several times, though never twice near the same
+place; for the next time I tried it in White Chapel, just by the corner
+of Petticoat Lane, where the coaches stand that go out to Stratford and
+Bow, and that side of the country, and another time at the Flying
+Horse, without Bishopgate, where the Cheston coaches then lay; and I
+had always the good luck to come off with some booty.
+
+Another time I placed myself at a warehouse by the waterside, where the
+coasting vessels from the north come, such as from Newcastle-upon-Tyne,
+Sunderland, and other places. Here, the warehouses being shut, comes a
+young fellow with a letter; and he wanted a box and a hamper that was
+come from Newcastle-upon-Tyne. I asked him if he had the marks of it;
+so he shows me the letter, by virtue of which he was to ask for it, and
+which gave an account of the contents, the box being full of linen, and
+the hamper full of glass ware. I read the letter, and took care to see
+the name, and the marks, the name of the person that sent the goods,
+the name of the person that they were sent to; then I bade the
+messenger come in the morning, for that the warehouse-keeper would not
+be there any more that night.
+
+Away went I, and getting materials in a public house, I wrote a letter
+from Mr. John Richardson of Newcastle to his dear cousin Jemmy Cole, in
+London, with an account that he sent by such a vessel (for I remembered
+all the particulars to a title), so many pieces of huckaback linen, so
+many ells of Dutch holland and the like, in a box, and a hamper of
+flint glasses from Mr. Henzill’s glasshouse; and that the box was
+marked I. C. No. 1, and the hamper was directed by a label on the
+cording.
+
+About an hour after, I came to the warehouse, found the
+warehouse-keeper, and had the goods delivered me without any scruple;
+the value of the linen being about £22.
+
+I could fill up this whole discourse with the variety of such
+adventures, which daily invention directed to, and which I managed with
+the utmost dexterity, and always with success.
+
+At length—as when does the pitcher come safe home that goes so very
+often to the well?—I fell into some small broils, which though they
+could not affect me fatally, yet made me known, which was the worst
+thing next to being found guilty that could befall me.
+
+I had taken up the disguise of a widow’s dress; it was without any real
+design in view, but only waiting for anything that might offer, as I
+often did. It happened that while I was going along the street in
+Covent Garden, there was a great cry of “Stop thief! Stop thief!” some
+artists had, it seems, put a trick upon a shopkeeper, and being
+pursued, some of them fled one way, and some another; and one of them
+was, they said, dressed up in widow’s weeds, upon which the mob
+gathered about me, and some said I was the person, others said no.
+Immediately came the mercer’s journeyman, and he swore aloud I was the
+person, and so seized on me. However, when I was brought back by the
+mob to the mercer’s shop, the master of the house said freely that I
+was not the woman that was in his shop, and would have let me go
+immediately; but another fellow said gravely, “Pray stay till Mr. ——”
+(meaning the journeyman) “comes back, for he knows her.” So they kept
+me by force near half an hour. They had called a constable, and he
+stood in the shop as my jailer; and in talking with the constable I
+inquired where he lived, and what trade he was; the man not
+apprehending in the least what happened afterwards, readily told me his
+name, and trade, and where he lived; and told me as a jest, that I
+might be sure to hear of his name when I came to the Old Bailey.
+
+Some of the servants likewise used me saucily, and had much ado to keep
+their hands off me; the master indeed was civiller to me than they, but
+he would not yet let me go, though he owned he could not say I was in
+his shop before.
+
+I began to be a little surly with him, and told him I hoped he would
+not take it ill if I made myself amends upon him in a more legal way
+another time; and desired I might send for friends to see me have right
+done me. No, he said, he could give no such liberty; I might ask it
+when I came before the justice of peace; and seeing I threatened him,
+he would take care of me in the meantime, and would lodge me safe in
+Newgate. I told him it was his time now, but it would be mine by and
+by, and governed my passion as well as I was able. However, I spoke to
+the constable to call me a porter, which he did, and then I called for
+pen, ink, and paper, but they would let me have none. I asked the
+porter his name, and where he lived, and the poor man told it me very
+willingly. I bade him observe and remember how I was treated there;
+that he saw I was detained there by force. I told him I should want his
+evidence in another place, and it should not be the worse for him to
+speak. The porter said he would serve me with all his heart. “But,
+madam,” says he, “let me hear them refuse to let you go, then I may be
+able to speak the plainer.”
+
+With that I spoke aloud to the master of the shop, and said, “Sir, you
+know in your own conscience that I am not the person you look for, and
+that I was not in your shop before, therefore I demand that you detain
+me here no longer, or tell me the reason of your stopping me.” The
+fellow grew surlier upon this than before, and said he would do neither
+till he thought fit. “Very well,” said I to the constable and to the
+porter; “you will be pleased to remember this, gentlemen, another
+time.” The porter said, “Yes, madam”; and the constable began not to
+like it, and would have persuaded the mercer to dismiss him, and let me
+go, since, as he said, he owned I was not the person. “Good, sir,” says
+the mercer to him tauntingly, “are you a justice of peace or a
+constable? I charged you with her; pray do you do your duty.” The
+constable told him, a little moved, but very handsomely, “I know my
+duty, and what I am, sir; I doubt you hardly know what you are doing.”
+They had some other hard words, and in the meantime the journeyman,
+impudent and unmanly to the last degree, used me barbarously, and one
+of them, the same that first seized upon me, pretended he would search
+me, and began to lay hands on me. I spit in his face, called out to the
+constable, and bade him to take notice of my usage. “And pray, Mr.
+Constable,” said I, “ask that villain’s name,” pointing to the man. The
+constable reproved him decently, told him that he did not know what he
+did, for he knew that his master acknowledged I was not the person that
+was in his shop; “and,” says the constable, “I am afraid your master is
+bringing himself, and me too, into trouble, if this gentlewoman comes
+to prove who she is, and where she was, and it appears that she is not
+the woman you pretend to.” “Damn her,” says the fellow again, with a
+impudent, hardened face, “she is the lady, you may depend upon it; I’ll
+swear she is the same body that was in the shop, and that I gave the
+pieces of satin that is lost into her own hand. You shall hear more of
+it when Mr. William and Mr. Anthony (those were other journeymen) come
+back; they will know her again as well as I.”
+
+Just as the insolent rogue was talking thus to the constable, comes
+back Mr. William and Mr. Anthony, as he called them, and a great rabble
+with them, bringing along with them the true widow that I was pretended
+to be; and they came sweating and blowing into the shop, and with a
+great deal of triumph, dragging the poor creature in the most butcherly
+manner up towards their master, who was in the back shop, and cried out
+aloud, “Here’s the widow, sir; we have catched her at last.” “What do
+ye mean by that?” says the master. “Why, we have her already; there she
+sits,” says he, “and Mr. ——,” says he, “can swear this is she.” The
+other man, whom they called Mr. Anthony, replied, “Mr. —— may say what
+he will, and swear what he will, but this is the woman, and there’s the
+remnant of satin she stole; I took it out of her clothes with my own
+hand.”
+
+I sat still now, and began to take a better heart, but smiled and said
+nothing; the master looked pale; the constable turned about and looked
+at me. “Let ’em alone, Mr. Constable,” said I; “let “em go on.” The
+case was plain and could not be denied, so the constable was charged
+with the right thief, and the mercer told me very civilly he was sorry
+for the mistake, and hoped I would not take it ill; that they had so
+many things of this nature put upon them every day, that they could not
+be blamed for being very sharp in doing themselves justice. “Not take
+it ill, sir!” said I; “how can I take it well! If you had dismissed me
+when your insolent fellow seized on me it the street, and brought me to
+you, and when you yourself acknowledged I was not the person, I would
+have put it by, and not taken it ill, because of the many ill things I
+believe you have put upon you daily; but your treatment of me since has
+been insufferable, and especially that of your servant; I must and will
+have reparation for that.”
+
+Then he began to parley with me, said he would make me any reasonable
+satisfaction, and would fain have had me tell him what it was I
+expected. I told him that I should not be my own judge, the law should
+decide it for me; and as I was to be carried before a magistrate, I
+should let him hear there what I had to say. He told me there was no
+occasion to go before the justice now, I was at liberty to go where I
+pleased; and so, calling to the constable, told him he might let me go,
+for I was discharged. The constable said calmly to him, “sir, you asked
+me just now if I knew whether I was a constable or justice, and bade me
+do my duty, and charged me with this gentlewoman as a prisoner. Now,
+sir, I find you do not understand what is my duty, for you would make
+me a justice indeed; but I must tell you it is not in my power. I may
+keep a prisoner when I am charged with him, but ’tis the law and the
+magistrate alone that can discharge that prisoner; therefore ’tis a
+mistake, sir; I must carry her before a justice now, whether you think
+well of it or not.” The mercer was very high with the constable at
+first; but the constable happening to be not a hired officer, but a
+good, substantial kind of man (I think he was a corn-handler), and a
+man of good sense, stood to his business, would not discharge me
+without going to a justice of the peace; and I insisted upon it too.
+When the mercer saw that, “Well,” says he to the constable, “you may
+carry her where you please; I have nothing to say to her.” “But, sir,”
+says the constable, “you will go with us, I hope, for ’tis you that
+charged me with her.” “No, not I,” says the mercer; “I tell you I have
+nothing to say to her.” “But pray, sir, do,” says the constable; “I
+desire it of you for your own sake, for the justice can do nothing
+without you.” “Prithee, fellow,” says the mercer, “go about your
+business; I tell you I have nothing to say to the gentlewoman. I charge
+you in the king’s name to dismiss her.” “Sir,” says the constable, “I
+find you don’t know what it is to be constable; I beg of you don’t
+oblige me to be rude to you.” “I think I need not; you are rude enough
+already,” says the mercer. “No, sir,” says the constable, “I am not
+rude; you have broken the peace in bringing an honest woman out of the
+street, when she was about her lawful occasion, confining her in your
+shop, and ill-using her here by your servants; and now can you say I am
+rude to you? I think I am civil to you in not commanding or charging
+you in the king’s name to go with me, and charging every man I see that
+passes your door to aid and assist me in carrying you by force; this
+you cannot but know I have power to do, and yet I forbear it, and once
+more entreat you to go with me.” Well, he would not for all this, and
+gave the constable ill language. However, the constable kept his
+temper, and would not be provoked; and then I put in and said, “Come,
+Mr. Constable, let him alone; I shall find ways enough to fetch him
+before a magistrate, I don’t fear that; but there’s the fellow,” says
+I, “he was the man that seized on me as I was innocently going along
+the street, and you are a witness of the violence with me since; give
+me leave to charge you with him, and carry him before the justice.”
+“Yes, madam,” says the constable; and turning to the fellow “Come,
+young gentleman,” says he to the journeyman, “you must go along with
+us; I hope you are not above the constable’s power, though your master
+is.”
+
+The fellow looked like a condemned thief, and hung back, then looked at
+his master, as if he could help him; and he, like a fool, encourage the
+fellow to be rude, and he truly resisted the constable, and pushed him
+back with a good force when he went to lay hold on him, at which the
+constable knocked him down, and called out for help; and immediately
+the shop was filled with people, and the constable seized the master
+and man, and all his servants.
+
+This first ill consequence of this fray was, that the woman they had
+taken, who was really the thief, made off, and got clear away in the
+crowd; and two other that they had stopped also; whether they were
+really guilty or not, that I can say nothing to.
+
+By this time some of his neighbours having come in, and, upon inquiry,
+seeing how things went, had endeavoured to bring the hot-brained mercer
+to his senses, and he began to be convinced that he was in the wrong;
+and so at length we went all very quietly before the justice, with a
+mob of about five hundred people at our heels; and all the way I went I
+could hear the people ask what was the matter, and other reply and say,
+a mercer had stopped a gentlewoman instead of a thief, and had
+afterwards taken the thief, and now the gentlewoman had taken the
+mercer, and was carrying him before the justice. This pleased the
+people strangely, and made the crowd increase, and they cried out as
+they went, “Which is the rogue? which is the mercer?” and especially
+the women. Then when they saw him they cried out, “That’s he, that’s
+he”; and every now and then came a good dab of dirt at him; and thus we
+marched a good while, till the mercer thought fit to desire the
+constable to call a coach to protect himself from the rabble; so we
+rode the rest of the way, the constable and I, and the mercer and his
+man.
+
+When we came to the justice, which was an ancient gentleman in
+Bloomsbury, the constable giving first a summary account of the matter,
+the justice bade me speak, and tell what I had to say. And first he
+asked my name, which I was very loth to give, but there was no remedy,
+so I told him my name was Mary Flanders, that I was a widow, my husband
+being a sea captain, died on a voyage to Virginia; and some other
+circumstances I told which he could never contradict, and that I lodged
+at present in town with such a person, naming my governess; but that I
+was preparing to go over to America, where my husband’s effects lay,
+and that I was going that day to buy some clothes to put myself into
+second mourning, but had not yet been in any shop, when that fellow,
+pointing to the mercer’s journeyman, came rushing upon me with such
+fury as very much frighted me, and carried me back to his master’s
+shop, where, though his master acknowledged I was not the person, yet
+he would not dismiss me, but charged a constable with me.
+
+Then I proceeded to tell how the journeyman treated me; how they would
+not suffer me to send for any of my friends; how afterwards they found
+the real thief, and took the very goods they had lost upon her, and all
+the particulars as before.
+
+Then the constable related his case: his dialogue with the mercer about
+discharging me, and at last his servant’s refusing to go with him, when
+he had charged him with him, and his master encouraging him to do so,
+and at last his striking the constable, and the like, all as I have
+told it already.
+
+The justice then heard the mercer and his man. The mercer indeed made a
+long harangue of the great loss they have daily by lifters and thieves;
+that it was easy for them to mistake, and that when he found it he
+would have dismissed me, etc., as above. As to the journeyman, he had
+very little to say, but that he pretended other of the servants told
+him that I was really the person.
+
+Upon the whole, the justice first of all told me very courteously I was
+discharged; that he was very sorry that the mercer’s man should in his
+eager pursuit have so little discretion as to take up an innocent
+person for a guilty person; that if he had not been so unjust as to
+detain me afterward, he believed I would have forgiven the first
+affront; that, however, it was not in his power to award me any
+reparation for anything, other than by openly reproving them, which he
+should do; but he supposed I would apply to such methods as the law
+directed; in the meantime he would bind him over.
+
+But as to the breach of the peace committed by the journeyman, he told
+me he should give me some satisfaction for that, for he should commit
+him to Newgate for assaulting the constable, and for assaulting me
+also.
+
+Accordingly he sent the fellow to Newgate for that assault, and his
+master gave bail, and so we came away; but I had the satisfaction of
+seeing the mob wait upon them both, as they came out, hallooing and
+throwing stones and dirt at the coaches they rode in; and so I came
+home to my governess.
+
+After this hustle, coming home and telling my governess the story, she
+falls a-laughing at me. “Why are you merry?” says I; “the story has not
+so much laughing room in it as you imagine; I am sure I have had a
+great deal of hurry and fright too, with a pack of ugly rogues.”
+“Laugh!” says my governess; “I laugh, child, to see what a lucky
+creature you are; why, this job will be the best bargain to you that
+ever you made in your life, if you manage it well. I warrant you,” says
+she, “you shall make the mercer pay you £500 for damages, besides what
+you shall get out of the journeyman.”
+
+I had other thoughts of the matter than she had; and especially,
+because I had given in my name to the justice of peace; and I knew that
+my name was so well known among the people at Hick’s Hall, the Old
+Bailey, and such places, that if this cause came to be tried openly,
+and my name came to be inquired into, no court would give much damages,
+for the reputation of a person of such a character. However, I was
+obliged to begin a prosecution in form, and accordingly my governess
+found me out a very creditable sort of a man to manage it, being an
+attorney of very good business, and of a good reputation, and she was
+certainly in the right of this; for had she employed a pettifogging
+hedge solicitor, or a man not known, and not in good reputation, I
+should have brought it to but little.
+
+I met this attorney, and gave him all the particulars at large, as they
+are recited above; and he assured me it was a case, as he said, that
+would very well support itself, and that he did not question but that a
+jury would give very considerable damages on such an occasion; so
+taking his full instructions he began the prosecution, and the mercer
+being arrested, gave bail. A few days after his giving bail, he comes
+with his attorney to my attorney, to let him know that he desired to
+accommodate the matter; that it was all carried on in the heat of an
+unhappy passion; that his client, meaning me, had a sharp provoking
+tongue, that I used them ill, gibing at them, and jeering them, even
+while they believed me to be the very person, and that I had provoked
+them, and the like.
+
+My attorney managed as well on my side; made them believe I was a widow
+of fortune, that I was able to do myself justice, and had great friends
+to stand by me too, who had all made me promise to sue to the utmost,
+and that if it cost me a thousand pounds I would be sure to have
+satisfaction, for that the affronts I had received were insufferable.
+
+However, they brought my attorney to this, that he promised he would
+not blow the coals, that if I inclined to accommodation, he would not
+hinder me, and that he would rather persuade me to peace than to war;
+for which they told him he should be no loser; all which he told me
+very honestly, and told me that if they offered him any bribe, I should
+certainly know it; but upon the whole he told me very honestly that if
+I would take his opinion, he would advise me to make it up with them,
+for that as they were in a great fright, and were desirous above all
+things to make it up, and knew that, let it be what it would, they
+would be allotted to bear all the costs of the suit; he believed they
+would give me freely more than any jury or court of justice would give
+upon a trial. I asked him what he thought they would be brought to. He
+told me he could not tell as to that, but he would tell me more when I
+saw him again.
+
+Some time after this, they came again to know if he had talked with me.
+He told them he had; that he found me not so averse to an accommodation
+as some of my friends were, who resented the disgrace offered me, and
+set me on; that they blowed the coals in secret, prompting me to
+revenge, or do myself justice, as they called it; so that he could not
+tell what to say to it; he told them he would do his endeavour to
+persuade me, but he ought to be able to tell me what proposal they
+made. They pretended they could not make any proposal, because it might
+be made use of against them; and he told them, that by the same rule he
+could not make any offers, for that might be pleaded in abatement of
+what damages a jury might be inclined to give. However, after some
+discourse and mutual promises that no advantage should be taken on
+either side, by what was transacted then or at any other of those
+meetings, they came to a kind of a treaty; but so remote, and so wide
+from one another, that nothing could be expected from it; for my
+attorney demanded £500 and charges, and they offered £50 without
+charges; so they broke off, and the mercer proposed to have a meeting
+with me myself; and my attorney agreed to that very readily.
+
+My attorney gave me notice to come to this meeting in good clothes, and
+with some state, that the mercer might see I was something more than I
+seemed to be that time they had me. Accordingly I came in a new suit of
+second mourning, according to what I had said at the justice’s. I set
+myself out, too, as well as a widow’s dress in second mourning would
+admit; my governess also furnished me with a good pearl necklace, that
+shut in behind with a locket of diamonds, which she had in pawn; and I
+had a very good figure; and as I stayed till I was sure they were come,
+I came in a coach to the door, with my maid with me.
+
+When I came into the room the mercer was surprised. He stood up and
+made his bow, which I took a little notice of, and but a little, and
+went and sat down where my own attorney had pointed to me to sit, for
+it was his house. After a little while the mercer said, he did not know
+me again, and began to make some compliments his way. I told him, I
+believed he did not know me at first, and that if he had, I believed he
+would not have treated me as he did.
+
+He told me he was very sorry for what had happened, and that it was to
+testify the willingness he had to make all possible reparation that he
+had appointed this meeting; that he hoped I would not carry things to
+extremity, which might be not only too great a loss to him, but might
+be the ruin of his business and shop, in which case I might have the
+satisfaction of repaying an injury with an injury ten times greater;
+but that I would then get nothing, whereas he was willing to do me any
+justice that was in his power, without putting himself or me to the
+trouble or charge of a suit at law.
+
+I told him I was glad to hear him talk so much more like a man of sense
+than he did before; that it was true, acknowledgment in most cases of
+affronts was counted reparation sufficient; but this had gone too far
+to be made up so; that I was not revengeful, nor did I seek his ruin,
+or any man’s else, but that all my friends were unanimous not to let me
+so far neglect my character as to adjust a thing of this kind without a
+sufficient reparation of honour; that to be taken up for a thief was
+such an indignity as could not be put up; that my character was above
+being treated so by any that knew me, but because in my condition of a
+widow I had been for some time careless of myself, and negligent of
+myself, I might be taken for such a creature, but that for the
+particular usage I had from him afterwards,—and then I repeated all as
+before; it was so provoking I had scarce patience to repeat it.
+
+Well, he acknowledged all, and was might humble indeed; he made
+proposals very handsome; he came up to £100 and to pay all the law
+charges, and added that he would make me a present of a very good suit
+of clothes. I came down to £300, and I demanded that I should publish
+an advertisement of the particulars in the common newspapers.
+
+This was a clause he never could comply with. However, at last he came
+up, by good management of my attorney, to £150 and a suit of black silk
+clothes; and there I agree, and as it were, at my attorney’s request,
+complied with it, he paying my attorney’s bill and charges, and gave us
+a good supper into the bargain.
+
+When I came to receive the money, I brought my governess with me,
+dressed like an old duchess, and a gentleman very well dressed, who we
+pretended courted me, but I called him cousin, and the lawyer was only
+to hint privately to him that his gentleman courted the widow.
+
+He treated us handsomely indeed, and paid the money cheerfully enough;
+so that it cost him £200 in all, or rather more. At our last meeting,
+when all was agreed, the case of the journeyman came up, and the mercer
+begged very hard for him; told me he was a man that had kept a shop of
+his own, and been in good business, had a wife, and several children,
+and was very poor; that he had nothing to make satisfaction with, but
+he should come to beg my pardon on his knees, if I desired it, as
+openly as I pleased. I had no spleen at the saucy rogue, nor were his
+submissions anything to me, since there was nothing to be got by him,
+so I thought it was as good to throw that in generously as not; so I
+told him I did not desire the ruin of any man, and therefore at his
+request I would forgive the wretch; it was below me to seek any
+revenge.
+
+When we were at supper he brought the poor fellow in to make
+acknowledgment, which he would have done with as much mean humility as
+his offence was with insulting haughtiness and pride, in which he was
+an instance of a complete baseness of spirit, impious, cruel, and
+relentless when uppermost and in prosperity, abject and low-spirited
+when down in affliction. However, I abated his cringes, told him I
+forgave him, and desired he might withdraw, as if I did not care for
+the sight of him, though I had forgiven him.
+
+I was now in good circumstances indeed, if I could have known my time
+for leaving off, and my governess often said I was the richest of the
+trade in England; and so I believe I was, for I had £700 by me in
+money, besides clothes, rings, some plate, and two gold watches, and
+all of them stolen, for I had innumerable jobs besides these I have
+mentioned. Oh! had I even now had the grace of repentance, I had still
+leisure to have looked back upon my follies, and have made some
+reparation; but the satisfaction I was to make for the public mischiefs
+I had done was yet left behind; and I could not forbear going abroad
+again, as I called it now, than any more I could when my extremity
+really drove me out for bread.
+
+It was not long after the affair with the mercer was made up, that I
+went out in an equipage quite different from any I had ever appeared in
+before. I dressed myself like a beggar woman, in the coarsest and most
+despicable rags I could get, and I walked about peering and peeping
+into every door and window I came near; and indeed I was in such a
+plight now that I knew as ill how to behave in as ever I did in any. I
+naturally abhorred dirt and rags; I had been bred up tight and cleanly,
+and could be no other, whatever condition I was in; so that this was
+the most uneasy disguise to me that ever I put on. I said presently to
+myself that this would not do, for this was a dress that everybody was
+shy and afraid of; and I thought everybody looked at me, as if they
+were afraid I should come near them, lest I should take something from
+them, or afraid to come near me, lest they should get something from
+me. I wandered about all the evening the first time I went out, and
+made nothing of it, but came home again wet, draggled, and tired.
+However, I went out again the next night, and then I met with a little
+adventure, which had like to have cost me dear. As I was standing near
+a tavern door, there comes a gentleman on horseback, and lights at the
+door, and wanting to go into the tavern, he calls one of the drawers to
+hold his horse. He stayed pretty long in the tavern, and the drawer
+heard his master call, and thought he would be angry with him. Seeing
+me stand by him, he called to me, “Here, woman,” says he, “hold this
+horse a while, till I go in; if the gentleman comes, he’ll give you
+something.” “Yes,” says I, and takes the horse, and walks off with him
+very soberly, and carried him to my governess.
+
+This had been a booty to those that had understood it; but never was
+poor thief more at a loss to know what to do with anything that was
+stolen; for when I came home, my governess was quite confounded, and
+what to do with the creature, we neither of us knew. To send him to a
+stable was doing nothing, for it was certain that public notice would
+be given in the _Gazette_, and the horse described, so that we durst
+not go to fetch it again.
+
+All the remedy we had for this unlucky adventure was to go and set up
+the horse at an inn, and send a note by a porter to the tavern, that
+the gentleman’s horse that was lost such a time was left at such an
+inn, and that he might be had there; that the poor woman that held him,
+having led him about the street, not being able to lead him back again,
+had left him there. We might have waited till the owner had published
+and offered a reward, but we did not care to venture the receiving the
+reward.
+
+So this was a robbery and no robbery, for little was lost by it, and
+nothing was got by it, and I was quite sick of going out in a beggar’s
+dress; it did not answer at all, and besides, I thought it was ominous
+and threatening.
+
+While I was in this disguise, I fell in with a parcel of folks of a
+worse kind than any I ever sorted with, and I saw a little into their
+ways too. These were coiners of money, and they made some very good
+offers to me, as to profit; but the part they would have had me have
+embarked in was the most dangerous part. I mean that of the very
+working the die, as they call it, which, had I been taken, had been
+certain death, and that at a stake—I say, to be burnt to death at a
+stake; so that though I was to appearance but a beggar, and they
+promised mountains of gold and silver to me to engage, yet it would not
+do. It is true, if I had been really a beggar, or had been desperate as
+when I began, I might perhaps have closed with it; for what care they
+to die that can’t tell how to live? But at present this was not my
+condition, at least I was for no such terrible risks as those; besides,
+the very thoughts of being burnt at a stake struck terror into my very
+soul, chilled my blood, and gave me the vapours to such a degree, as I
+could not think of it without trembling.
+
+This put an end to my disguise too, for as I did not like the proposal,
+so I did not tell them so, but seemed to relish it, and promised to
+meet again. But I durst see them no more; for if I had seen them, and
+not complied, though I had declined it with the greatest assurance of
+secrecy in the world, they would have gone near to have murdered me, to
+make sure work, and make themselves easy, as they call it. What kind of
+easiness that is, they may best judge that understand how easy men are
+that can murder people to prevent danger.
+
+This and horse-stealing were things quite out of my way, and I might
+easily resolve I would have to more to say to them; my business seemed
+to lie another way, and though it had hazard enough in it too, yet it
+was more suitable to me, and what had more of art in it, and more room
+to escape, and more chances for a-coming off if a surprise should
+happen.
+
+I had several proposals made also to me about that time, to come into a
+gang of house-breakers; but that was a thing I had no mind to venture
+at neither, any more than I had at the coining trade. I offered to go
+along with two men and a woman, that made it their business to get into
+houses by stratagem, and with them I was willing enough to venture. But
+there were three of them already, and they did not care to part, nor I
+to have too many in a gang, so I did not close with them, but declined
+them, and they paid dear for their next attempt.
+
+But at length I met with a woman that had often told me what adventures
+she had made, and with success, at the waterside, and I closed with
+her, and we drove on our business pretty well. One day we came among
+some Dutch people at St. Catherine’s, where we went on pretence to buy
+goods that were privately got on shore. I was two or three times in a
+house where we saw a good quantity of prohibited goods, and my
+companion once brought away three pieces of Dutch black silk that
+turned to good account, and I had my share of it; but in all the
+journeys I made by myself, I could not get an opportunity to do
+anything, so I laid it aside, for I had been so often, that they began
+to suspect something, and were so shy, that I saw nothing was to be
+done.
+
+This baulked me a little, and I resolved to push at something or other,
+for I was not used to come back so often without purchase; so the next
+day I dressed myself up fine, and took a walk to the other end of the
+town. I passed through the Exchange in the Strand, but had no notion of
+finding anything to do there, when on a sudden I saw a great cluttering
+in the place, and all the people, shopkeepers as well as others,
+standing up and staring; and what should it be but some great duchess
+come into the Exchange, and they said the queen was coming. I set
+myself close up to a shop-side with my back to the counter, as if to
+let the crowd pass by, when keeping my eye upon a parcel of lace which
+the shopkeeper was showing to some ladies that stood by me, the
+shopkeeper and her maid were so taken up with looking to see who was
+coming, and what shop they would go to, that I found means to slip a
+paper of lace into my pocket and come clear off with it; so the
+lady-milliner paid dear enough for her gaping after the queen.
+
+I went off from the shop, as if driven along by the throng, and
+mingling myself with the crowd, went out at the other door of the
+Exchange, and so got away before they missed their lace; and because I
+would not be followed, I called a coach and shut myself up in it. I had
+scarce shut the coach doors up, but I saw the milliner’s maid and five
+or six more come running out into the street, and crying out as if they
+were frightened. They did not cry “Stop thief!” because nobody ran
+away, but I could hear the word “robbed,” and “lace,” two or three
+times, and saw the wench wringing her hands, and run staring to and
+again, like one scared. The coachman that had taken me up was getting
+up into the box, but was not quite up, so that the horse had not begun
+to move; so that I was terrible uneasy, and I took the packet of lace
+and laid it ready to have dropped it out at the flap of the coach,
+which opens before, just behind the coachman; but to my great
+satisfaction, in less than a minute the coach began to move, that is to
+say, as soon as the coachman had got up and spoken to his horses; so he
+drove away without any interruption, and I brought off my purchase,
+which was worth near £20.
+
+The next day I dressed up again, but in quite different clothes, and
+walked the same way again, but nothing offered till I came into St.
+James’s Park, where I saw abundance of fine ladies in the Park, walking
+in the Mall, and among the rest there was a little miss, a young lady
+of about twelve or thirteen years old, and she had a sister, as I
+suppose it was, with her, that might be about nine years old. I
+observed the biggest had a fine gold watch on, and a good necklace of
+pearl, and they had a footman in livery with them; but as it is not
+usual for the footman to go behind the ladies in the Mall, so I
+observed the footman stopped at their going into the Mall, and the
+biggest of the sisters spoke to him, which I perceived was to bid him
+be just there when they came back.
+
+When I heard her dismiss the footman, I stepped up to him and asked
+him, what little lady that was? and held a little chat with him about
+what a pretty child it was with her, and how genteel and well-carriaged
+the lady, the eldest, would be: how womanish, and how grave; and the
+fool of a fellow told me presently who she was; that she was Sir Thomas
+——’s eldest daughter, of Essex, and that she was a great fortune; that
+her mother was not come to town yet; but she was with Sir William ——’s
+lady, of Suffolk, at her lodging in Suffolk Street, and a great deal
+more; that they had a maid and a woman to wait on them, besides Sir
+Thomas’s coach, the coachman, and himself; and that young lady was
+governess to the whole family, as well here as at home too; and, in
+short, told me abundance of things enough for my business.
+
+I was very well dressed, and had my gold watch as well as she; so I
+left the footman, and I puts myself in a rank with this young lady,
+having stayed till she had taken one double turn in the Mall, and was
+going forward again; by and by I saluted her by her name, with the
+title of Lady Betty. I asked her when she heard from her father; when
+my lady her mother would be in town, and how she did.
+
+I talked so familiarly to her of her whole family that she could not
+suspect but that I knew them all intimately. I asked her why she would
+come abroad without Mrs. Chime with her (that was the name of her
+woman) to take of Mrs. Judith, that was her sister. Then I entered into
+a long chat with her about her sister, what a fine little lady she was,
+and asked her if she had learned French, and a thousand such little
+things to entertain her, when on a sudden we saw the guards come, and
+the crowd ran to see the king go by to the Parliament House.
+
+The ladies ran all to the side of the Mall, and I helped my lady to
+stand upon the edge of the boards on the side of the Mall, that she
+might be high enough to see; and took the little one and lifted her
+quite up; during which, I took care to convey the gold watch so clean
+away from the Lady Betty, that she never felt it, nor missed it, till
+all the crowd was gone, and she was gotten into the middle of the Mall
+among the other ladies.
+
+I took my leave of her in the very crowd, and said to her, as if in
+haste, “Dear Lady Betty, take care of your little sister.” And so the
+crowd did as it were thrust me away from her, and that I was obliged
+unwillingly to take my leave.
+
+The hurry in such cases is immediately over, and the place clear as
+soon as the king is gone by; but as there is always a great running and
+clutter just as the king passes, so having dropped the two little
+ladies, and done my business with them without any miscarriage, I kept
+hurrying on among the crowd, as if I ran to see the king, and so I got
+before the crowd and kept so till I came to the end of the Mall, when
+the king going on towards the Horse Guards, I went forward to the
+passage, which went then through against the lower end of the
+Haymarket, and there I bestowed a coach upon myself, and made off, and
+I confess I have not yet been so good as my word, viz. to go and visit
+my Lady Betty.
+
+I was once of the mind to venture staying with Lady Betty till she
+missed the watch, and so have made a great outcry about it with her,
+and have got her into the coach, and put myself in the coach with her,
+and have gone home with her; for she appeared so fond of me, and so
+perfectly deceived by my so readily talking to her of all her relations
+and family, that I thought it was very easy to push the thing farther,
+and to have got at least the necklace of pearl; but when I considered
+that though the child would not perhaps have suspected me, other people
+might, and that if I was searched I should be discovered, I thought it
+was best to go off with what I had got, and be satisfied.
+
+I came accidentally afterwards to hear, that when the young lady missed
+her watch, she made a great outcry in the Park, and sent her footman up
+and down to see if he could find me out, she having described me so
+perfectly that he knew presently that it was the same person that had
+stood and talked so long with him, and asked him so many questions
+about them; but I gone far enough out of their reach before she could
+come at her footman to tell him the story.
+
+I made another adventure after this, of a nature different from all I
+had been concerned in yet, and this was at a gaming-house near Covent
+Garden.
+
+I saw several people go in and out; and I stood in the passage a good
+while with another woman with me, and seeing a gentleman go up that
+seemed to be of more than ordinary fashion, I said to him, “Sir, pray
+don’t they give women leave to go up?” “Yes, madam,” says he, “and to
+play too, if they please.” “I mean so, sir,” said I. And with that he
+said he would introduce me if I had a mind; so I followed him to the
+door, and he looking in, “There, madam,” says he, “are the gamesters,
+if you have a mind to venture.” I looked in and said to my comrade
+aloud, “Here’s nothing but men; I won’t venture among them.” At which
+one of the gentlemen cried out, “You need not be afraid, madam, here’s
+none but fair gamesters; you are very welcome to come and set what you
+please.” So I went a little nearer and looked on, and some of them
+brought me a chair, and I sat down and saw the box and dice go round
+apace; then I said to my comrade, “The gentlemen play too high for us;
+come, let us go.”
+
+The people were all very civil, and one gentleman in particular
+encouraged me, and said, “Come, madam, if you please to venture, if you
+dare trust me, I’ll answer for it you shall have nothing put upon you
+here.” “No, sir,” said I, smiling, “I hope the gentlemen would not
+cheat a woman.” But still I declined venturing, though I pulled out a
+purse with money in it, that they might see I did not want money.
+
+After I had sat a while, one gentleman said to me, jeering, “Come,
+madam, I see you are afraid to venture for yourself; I always had good
+luck with the ladies, you shall set for me, if you won’t set for
+yourself.” I told him, “Sir, I should be very loth to lose your money,”
+though I added, “I am pretty lucky too; but the gentlemen play so high,
+that I dare not indeed venture my own.”
+
+“Well, well,” says he, “there’s ten guineas, madam; set them for me.”
+So I took his money and set, himself looking on. I ran out nine of the
+guineas by one and two at a time, and then the box coming to the next
+man to me, my gentleman gave me ten guineas more, and made me set five
+of them at once, and the gentleman who had the box threw out, so there
+was five guineas of his money again. He was encouraged at this, and
+made me take the box, which was a bold venture. However, I held the box
+so long that I had gained him his whole money, and had a good handful
+of guineas in my lap, and which was the better luck, when I threw out,
+I threw but at one or two of those that had set me, and so went off
+easy.
+
+When I was come this length, I offered the gentleman all the gold, for
+it was his own; and so would have had him play for himself, pretending
+I did not understand the game well enough. He laughed, and said if I
+had but good luck, it was no matter whether I understood the game or
+no; but I should not leave off. However, he took out the fifteen
+guineas that he had put in at first, and bade me play with the rest. I
+would have told them to see how much I had got, but he said, “No, no,
+don’t tell them, I believe you are very honest, and ’tis bad luck to
+tell them”; so I played on.
+
+I understood the game well enough, though I pretended I did not, and
+played cautiously. It was to keep a good stock in my lap, out of which
+I every now and then conveyed some into my pocket, but in such a
+manner, and at such convenient times, as I was sure he could not see
+it.
+
+I played a great while, and had very good luck for him; but the last
+time I held the box, they set me high, and I threw boldly at all; I
+held the box till I gained near fourscore guineas, but lost above half
+of it back in the last throw; so I got up, for I was afraid I should
+lose it all back again, and said to him, “Pray come, sir, now, and take
+it and play for yourself; I think I have done pretty well for you.” He
+would have had me play on, but it grew late, and I desired to be
+excused. When I gave it up to him, I told him I hoped he would give me
+leave to tell it now, that I might see what I had gained, and how lucky
+I had been for him; when I told them, there were threescore and three
+guineas. “Ay,” says I, “if it had not been for that unlucky throw, I
+had got you a hundred guineas.” So I gave him all the money, but he
+would not take it till I had put my hand into it, and taken some for
+myself, and bid me please myself. I refused it, and was positive I
+would not take it myself; if he had a mind to anything of that kind, it
+should be all his own doings.
+
+The rest of the gentlemen seeing us striving cried, “Give it her all”;
+but I absolutely refused that. Then one of them said, “D—n ye, Jack,
+halve it with her; don’t you know you should be always upon even terms
+with the ladies.” So, in short, he divided it with me, and I brought
+away thirty guineas, besides about forty-three which I had stole
+privately, which I was sorry for afterward, because he was so generous.
+
+Thus I brought home seventy-three guineas, and let my old governess see
+what good luck I had at play. However, it was her advice that I should
+not venture again, and I took her counsel, for I never went there any
+more; for I knew as well as she, if the itch of play came in, I might
+soon lose that, and all the rest of what I had got.
+
+Fortune had smiled upon me to that degree, and I had thriven so much,
+and my governess too, for she always had a share with me, that really
+the old gentlewoman began to talk of leaving off while we were well,
+and being satisfied with what we had got; but, I know not what fate
+guided me, I was as backward to it now as she was when I proposed it to
+her before, and so in an ill hour we gave over the thoughts of it for
+the present, and, in a word, I grew more hardened and audacious than
+ever, and the success I had made my name as famous as any thief of my
+sort ever had been at Newgate, and in the Old Bailey.
+
+I had sometime taken the liberty to play the same game over again,
+which is not according to practice, which however succeeded not amiss;
+but generally I took up new figures, and contrived to appear in new
+shapes every time I went abroad.
+
+It was not a rumbling time of the year, and the gentlemen being most of
+them gone out of town, Tunbridge, and Epsom, and such places were full
+of people. But the city was thin, and I thought our trade felt it a
+little, as well as other; so that at the latter end of the year I
+joined myself with a gang who usually go every year to Stourbridge
+Fair, and from thence to Bury Fair, in Suffolk. We promised ourselves
+great things there, but when I came to see how things were, I was weary
+of it presently; for except mere picking of pockets, there was little
+worth meddling with; neither, if a booty had been made, was it so easy
+carrying it off, nor was there such a variety of occasion for business
+in our way, as in London; all that I made of the whole journey was a
+gold watch at Bury Fair, and a small parcel of linen at Cambridge,
+which gave me an occasion to take leave of the place. It was on old
+bite, and I thought might do with a country shopkeeper, though in
+London it would not.
+
+I bought at a linen-draper’s shop, not in the fair, but in the town of
+Cambridge, as much fine holland and other things as came to about seven
+pounds; when I had done, I bade them be sent to such an inn, where I
+had purposely taken up my being the same morning, as if I was to lodge
+there that night.
+
+I ordered the draper to send them home to me, about such an hour, to
+the inn where I lay, and I would pay him his money. At the time
+appointed the draper sends the goods, and I placed one of our gang at
+the chamber door, and when the innkeeper’s maid brought the messenger
+to the door, who was a young fellow, an apprentice, almost a man, she
+tells him her mistress was asleep, but if he would leave the things and
+call in about an hour, I should be awake, and he might have the money.
+He left the parcel very readily, and goes his way, and in about half an
+hour my maid and I walked off, and that very evening I hired a horse,
+and a man to ride before me, and went to Newmarket, and from thence got
+my passage in a coach that was not quite full to St. Edmund’s Bury,
+where, as I told you, I could make but little of my trade, only at a
+little country opera-house made a shift to carry off a gold watch from
+a lady’s side, who was not only intolerably merry, but, as I thought, a
+little fuddled, which made my work much easier.
+
+I made off with this little booty to Ipswich, and from thence to
+Harwich, where I went into an inn, as if I had newly arrived from
+Holland, not doubting but I should make some purchase among the
+foreigners that came on shore there; but I found them generally empty
+of things of value, except what was in their portmanteaux and Dutch
+hampers, which were generally guarded by footmen; however, I fairly got
+one of their portmanteaux one evening out of the chamber where the
+gentleman lay, the footman being fast asleep on the bed, and I suppose
+very drunk.
+
+The room in which I lodged lay next to the Dutchman’s, and having
+dragged the heavy thing with much ado out of the chamber into mine, I
+went out into the street, to see if I could find any possibility of
+carrying it off. I walked about a great while, but could see no
+probability either of getting out the thing, or of conveying away the
+goods that were in it if I had opened it, the town being so small, and
+I a perfect stranger in it; so I was returning with a resolution to
+carry it back again, and leave it where I found it. Just in that very
+moment I heard a man make a noise to some people to make haste, for the
+boat was going to put off, and the tide would be spent. I called to the
+fellow, “What boat is it, friend,” says I, “that you belong to?” “The
+Ipswich wherry, madam,” says he. “When do you go off?” says I. “This
+moment, madam,” says he; “do you want to go thither?” “Yes,” said I,
+“if you can stay till I fetch my things.” “Where are your things,
+madam?” says he. “At such an inn,” said I. “Well, I’ll go with you,
+madam,” says he, very civilly, “and bring them for you.” “Come away,
+then,” says I, and takes him with me.
+
+The people of the inn were in a great hurry, the packet-boat from
+Holland being just come in, and two coaches just come also with
+passengers from London, for another packet-boat that was going off for
+Holland, which coaches were to go back next day with the passengers
+that were just landed. In this hurry it was not much minded that I came
+to the bar and paid my reckoning, telling my landlady I had gotten my
+passage by sea in a wherry.
+
+These wherries are large vessels, with good accommodation for carrying
+passengers from Harwich to London; and though they are called wherries,
+which is a word used in the Thames for a small boat rowed with one or
+two men, yet these are vessels able to carry twenty passengers, and ten
+or fifteen tons of goods, and fitted to bear the sea. All this I had
+found out by inquiring the night before into the several ways of going
+to London.
+
+My landlady was very courteous, took my money for my reckoning, but was
+called away, all the house being in a hurry. So I left her, took the
+fellow up to my chamber, gave him the trunk, or portmanteau, for it was
+like a trunk, and wrapped it about with an old apron, and he went
+directly to his boat with it, and I after him, nobody asking us the
+least question about it; as for the drunken Dutch footman he was still
+asleep, and his master with other foreign gentlemen at supper, and very
+merry below, so I went clean off with it to Ipswich; and going in the
+night, the people of the house knew nothing but that I was gone to
+London by the Harwich wherry, as I had told my landlady.
+
+I was plagued at Ipswich with the custom-house officers, who stopped my
+trunk, as I called it, and would open and search it. I was willing, I
+told them, they should search it, but husband had the key, and he was
+not yet come from Harwich; this I said, that if upon searching it they
+should find all the things be such as properly belonged to a man rather
+than a woman, it should not seem strange to them. However, they being
+positive to open the trunk I consented to have it be broken open, that
+is to say, to have the lock taken off, which was not difficult.
+
+They found nothing for their turn, for the trunk had been searched
+before, but they discovered several things very much to my
+satisfaction, as particularly a parcel of money in French pistoles, and
+some Dutch ducatoons or rix-dollars, and the rest was chiefly two
+periwigs, wearing-linen, and razors, wash-balls, perfumes, and other
+useful things necessary for a gentleman, which all passed for my
+husband’s, and so I was quit to them.
+
+It was now very early in the morning, and not light, and I knew not
+well what course to take; for I made no doubt but I should be pursued
+in the morning, and perhaps be taken with the things about me; so I
+resolved upon taking new measures. I went publicly to an inn in the
+town with my trunk, as I called it, and having taken the substance out,
+I did not think the lumber of it worth my concern; however, I gave it
+the landlady of the house with a charge to take great care of it, and
+lay it up safe till I should come again, and away I walked in to the
+street.
+
+When I was got into the town a great way from the inn, I met with an
+ancient woman who had just opened her door, and I fell into chat with
+her, and asked her a great many wild questions of things all remote to
+my purpose and design; but in my discourse I found by her how the town
+was situated, that I was in a street that went out towards Hadley, but
+that such a street went towards the water-side, such a street towards
+Colchester, and so the London road lay there.
+
+I had soon my ends of this old woman, for I only wanted to know which
+was the London road, and away I walked as fast as I could; not that I
+intended to go on foot, either to London or to Colchester, but I wanted
+to get quietly away from Ipswich.
+
+I walked about two or three miles, and then I met a plain countryman,
+who was busy about some husbandry work, I did not know what, and I
+asked him a great many questions first, not much to the purpose, but at
+last told him I was going for London, and the coach was full, and I
+could not get a passage, and asked him if he could tell me where to
+hire a horse that would carry double, and an honest man to ride before
+me to Colchester, that so I might get a place there in the coaches. The
+honest clown looked earnestly at me, and said nothing for above half a
+minute, when, scratching his poll, “A horse, say you and to Colchester,
+to carry double? why yes, mistress, alack-a-day, you may have horses
+enough for money.” “Well, friend,” says I, “that I take for granted; I
+don’t expect it without money.” “Why, but, mistress,” says he, “how
+much are you willing to give?” “Nay,” says I again, “friend, I don’t
+know what your rates are in the country here, for I am a stranger; but
+if you can get one for me, get it as cheap as you can, and I’ll give
+you somewhat for your pains.”
+
+“Why, that’s honestly said too,” says the countryman. “Not so honest,
+neither,” said I to myself, “if thou knewest all.” “Why, mistress,”
+says he, “I have a horse that will carry double, and I don’t much care
+if I go myself with you,” and the like. “Will you?” says I; “well, I
+believe you are an honest man; if you will, I shall be glad of it; I’ll
+pay you in reason.” “Why, look ye, mistress,” says he, “I won’t be out
+of reason with you, then; if I carry you to Colchester, it will be
+worth five shillings for myself and my horse, for I shall hardly come
+back to-night.”
+
+In short, I hired the honest man and his horse; but when we came to a
+town upon the road (I do not remember the name of it, but it stands
+upon a river), I pretended myself very ill, and I could go no farther
+that night but if he would stay there with me, because I was a
+stranger, I would pay him for himself and his horse with all my heart.
+
+This I did because I knew the Dutch gentlemen and their servants would
+be upon the road that day, either in the stagecoaches or riding post,
+and I did not know but the drunken fellow, or somebody else that might
+have seen me at Harwich, might see me again, and so I thought that in
+one day’s stop they would be all gone by.
+
+We lay all that night there, and the next morning it was not very early
+when I set out, so that it was near ten o’clock by the time I got to
+Colchester. It was no little pleasure that I saw the town where I had
+so many pleasant days, and I made many inquiries after the good old
+friends I had once had there, but could make little out; they were all
+dead or removed. The young ladies had been all married or gone to
+London; the old gentleman and the old lady that had been my early
+benefactress all dead; and which troubled me most, the young gentleman
+my first lover, and afterwards my brother-in-law, was dead; but two
+sons, men grown, were left of him, but they too were transplanted to
+London.
+
+I dismissed my old man here, and stayed incognito for three or four
+days in Colchester, and then took a passage in a waggon, because I
+would not venture being seen in the Harwich coaches. But I needed not
+have used so much caution, for there was nobody in Harwich but the
+woman of the house could have known me; nor was it rational to think
+that she, considering the hurry she was in, and that she never saw me
+but once, and that by candlelight, should have ever discovered me.
+
+I was now returned to London, and though by the accident of the last
+adventure I got something considerable, yet I was not fond of any more
+country rambles, nor should I have ventured abroad again if I had
+carried the trade on to the end of my days. I gave my governess a
+history of my travels; she liked the Harwich journey well enough, and
+in discoursing of these things between ourselves she observed, that a
+thief being a creature that watches the advantages of other people’s
+mistakes, ’tis impossible but that to one that is vigilant and
+industrious many opportunities must happen, and therefore she thought
+that one so exquisitely keen in the trade as I was, would scarce fail
+of something extraordinary wherever I went.
+
+On the other hand, every branch of my story, if duly considered, may be
+useful to honest people, and afford a due caution to people of some
+sort or other to guard against the like surprises, and to have their
+eyes about them when they have to do with strangers of any kind, for
+’tis very seldom that some snare or other is not in their way. The
+moral, indeed, of all my history is left to be gathered by the senses
+and judgment of the reader; I am not qualified to preach to them. Let
+the experience of one creature completely wicked, and completely
+miserable, be a storehouse of useful warning to those that read.
+
+I am drawing now towards a new variety of the scenes of life. Upon my
+return, being hardened by a long race of crime, and success
+unparalleled, at least in the reach of my own knowledge, I had, as I
+have said, no thoughts of laying down a trade which, if I was to judge
+by the example of other, must, however, end at last in misery and
+sorrow.
+
+It was on the Christmas day following, in the evening, that, to finish
+a long train of wickedness, I went abroad to see what might offer in my
+way; when going by a working silversmith’s in Foster Lane, I saw a
+tempting bait indeed, and not be resisted by one of my occupation, for
+the shop had nobody in it, as I could see, and a great deal of loose
+plate lay in the window, and at the seat of the man, who usually, as I
+suppose, worked at one side of the shop.
+
+I went boldly in, and was just going to lay my hand upon a piece of
+plate, and might have done it, and carried it clear off, for any care
+that the men who belonged to the shop had taken of it; but an officious
+fellow in a house, not a shop, on the other side of the way, seeing me
+go in, and observing that there was nobody in the shop, comes running
+over the street, and into the shop, and without asking me what I was,
+or who, seizes upon me, an cries out for the people of the house.
+
+I had not, as I said above, touched anything in the shop, and seeing a
+glimpse of somebody running over to the shop, I had so much presence of
+mind as to knock very hard with my foot on the floor of the house, and
+was just calling out too, when the fellow laid hands on me.
+
+However, as I had always most courage when I was in most danger, so
+when the fellow laid hands on me, I stood very high upon it, that I
+came in to buy half a dozen of silver spoons; and to my good fortune,
+it was a silversmith’s that sold plate, as well as worked plate for
+other shops. The fellow laughed at that part, and put such a value upon
+the service that he had done his neighbour, that he would have it be
+that I came not to buy, but to steal; and raising a great crowd. I said
+to the master of the shop, who by this time was fetched home from some
+neighbouring place, that it was in vain to make noise, and enter into
+talk there of the case; the fellow had insisted that I came to steal,
+and he must prove it, and I desired we might go before a magistrate
+without any more words; for I began to see I should be too hard for the
+man that had seized me.
+
+The master and mistress of the shop were really not so violent as the
+man from t’other side of the way; and the man said, “Mistress, you
+might come into the shop with a good design for aught I know, but it
+seemed a dangerous thing for you to come into such a shop as mine is,
+when you see nobody there; and I cannot do justice to my neighbour, who
+was so kind to me, as not to acknowledge he had reason on his side;
+though, upon the whole, I do not find you attempted to take anything,
+and I really know not what to do in it.” I pressed him to go before a
+magistrate with me, and if anything could be proved on me that was like
+a design of robbery, I should willingly submit, but if not, I expected
+reparation.
+
+Just while we were in this debate, and a crowd of people gathered about
+the door, came by Sir T. B., an alderman of the city, and justice of
+the peace, and the goldsmith hearing of it, goes out, and entreated his
+worship to come in and decide the case.
+
+Give the goldsmith his due, he told his story with a great deal of
+justice and moderation, and the fellow that had come over, and seized
+upon me, told his with as much heat and foolish passion, which did me
+good still, rather than harm. It came then to my turn to speak, and I
+told his worship that I was a stranger in London, being newly come out
+of the north; that I lodged in such a place, that I was passing this
+street, and went into the goldsmith’s shop to buy half a dozen of
+spoons. By great luck I had an old silver spoon in my pocket, which I
+pulled out, and told him I had carried that spoon to match it with half
+a dozen of new ones, that it might match some I had in the country.
+
+That seeing nobody I the shop, I knocked with my foot very hard to make
+the people hear, and had also called aloud with my voice; ’tis true,
+there was loose plate in the shop, but that nobody could say I had
+touched any of it, or gone near it; that a fellow came running into the
+shop out of the street, and laid hands on me in a furious manner, in
+the very moments while I was calling for the people of the house; that
+if he had really had a mind to have done his neighbour any service, he
+should have stood at a distance, and silently watched to see whether I
+had touched anything or no, and then have clapped in upon me, and taken
+me in the fact. “That is very true,” says Mr. Alderman, and turning to
+the fellow that stopped me, he asked him if it was true that I knocked
+with my foot? He said, yes, I had knocked, but that might be because of
+his coming. “Nay,” says the alderman, taking him short, “now you
+contradict yourself, for just now you said she was in the shop with her
+back to you, and did not see you till you came upon her.” Now it was
+true that my back was partly to the street, but yet as my business was
+of a kind that required me to have my eyes every way, so I really had a
+glance of him running over, as I said before, though he did not
+perceive it.
+
+After a full hearing, the alderman gave it as his opinion that his
+neighbour was under a mistake, and that I was innocent, and the
+goldsmith acquiesced in it too, and his wife, and so I was dismissed;
+but as I was going to depart, Mr. Alderman said, “But hold, madam, if
+you were designing to buy spoons, I hope you will not let my friend
+here lose his customer by the mistake.” I readily answered, “No, sir,
+I’ll buy the spoons still, if he can match my odd spoon, which I
+brought for a pattern”; and the goldsmith showed me some of the very
+same fashion. So he weighed the spoons, and they came to
+five-and-thirty shillings, so I pulls out my purse to pay him, in which
+I had near twenty guineas, for I never went without such a sum about
+me, whatever might happen, and I found it of use at other times as well
+as now.
+
+When Mr. Alderman saw my money, he said, “Well, madam, now I am
+satisfied you were wronged, and it was for this reason that I moved you
+should buy the spoons, and stayed till you had bought them, for if you
+had not had money to pay for them, I should have suspected that you did
+not come into the shop with an intent to buy, for indeed the sort of
+people who come upon these designs that you have been charged with, are
+seldom troubled with much gold in their pockets, as I see you are.”
+
+I smiled, and told his worship, that then I owed something of his
+favour to my money, but I hoped he saw reason also in the justice he
+had done me before. He said, yes, he had, but this had confirmed his
+opinion, and he was fully satisfied now of my having been injured. So I
+came off with flying colours, though from an affair in which I was at
+the very brink of destruction.
+
+It was but three days after this, that not at all made cautious by my
+former danger, as I used to be, and still pursuing the art which I had
+so long been employed in, I ventured into a house where I saw the doors
+open, and furnished myself, as I though verily without being perceived,
+with two pieces of flowered silks, such as they call brocaded silk,
+very rich. It was not a mercer’s shop, nor a warehouse of a mercer, but
+looked like a private dwelling-house, and was, it seems, inhabited by a
+man that sold goods for the weavers to the mercers, like a broker or
+factor.
+
+That I may make short of this black part of this story, I was attacked
+by two wenches that came open-mouthed at me just as I was going out at
+the door, and one of them pulled me back into the room, while the other
+shut the door upon me. I would have given them good words, but there
+was no room for it, two fiery dragons could not have been more furious
+than they were; they tore my clothes, bullied and roared as if they
+would have murdered me; the mistress of the house came next, and then
+the master, and all outrageous, for a while especially.
+
+I gave the master very good words, told him the door was open, and
+things were a temptation to me, that I was poor and distressed, and
+poverty was when many could not resist, and begged him with tears to
+have pity on me. The mistress of the house was moved with compassion,
+and inclined to have let me go, and had almost persuaded her husband to
+it also, but the saucy wenches were run, even before they were sent,
+and had fetched a constable, and then the master said he could not go
+back, I must go before a justice, and answered his wife that he might
+come into trouble himself if he should let me go.
+
+The sight of the constable, indeed, struck me with terror, and I
+thought I should have sunk into the ground. I fell into faintings, and
+indeed the people themselves thought I would have died, when the woman
+argued again for me, and entreated her husband, seeing they had lost
+nothing, to let me go. I offered him to pay for the two pieces,
+whatever the value was, though I had not got them, and argued that as
+he had his goods, and had really lost nothing, it would be cruel to
+pursue me to death, and have my blood for the bare attempt of taking
+them. I put the constable in mind that I had broke no doors, nor
+carried anything away; and when I came to the justice, and pleaded
+there that I had neither broken anything to get in, nor carried
+anything out, the justice was inclined to have released me; but the
+first saucy jade that stopped me, affirming that I was going out with
+the goods, but that she stopped me and pulled me back as I was upon the
+threshold, the justice upon that point committed me, and I was carried
+to Newgate. That horrid place! my very blood chills at the mention of
+its name; the place where so many of my comrades had been locked up,
+and from whence they went to the fatal tree; the place where my mother
+suffered so deeply, where I was brought into the world, and from whence
+I expected no redemption but by an infamous death: to conclude, the
+place that had so long expected me, and which with so much art and
+success I had so long avoided.
+
+I was not fixed indeed; ’tis impossible to describe the terror of my
+mind, when I was first brought in, and when I looked around upon all
+the horrors of that dismal place. I looked on myself as lost, and that
+I had nothing to think of but of going out of the world, and that with
+the utmost infamy: the hellish noise, the roaring, swearing, and
+clamour, the stench and nastiness, and all the dreadful crowd of
+afflicting things that I saw there, joined together to make the place
+seem an emblem of hell itself, and a kind of an entrance into it.
+
+Now I reproached myself with the many hints I had had, as I have
+mentioned above, from my own reason, from the sense of my good
+circumstances, and of the many dangers I had escaped, to leave off
+while I was well, and how I had withstood them all, and hardened my
+thoughts against all fear. It seemed to me that I was hurried on by an
+inevitable and unseen fate to this day of misery, and that now I was to
+expiate all my offences at the gallows; that I was now to give
+satisfaction to justice with my blood, and that I was come to the last
+hour of my life and of my wickedness together. These things poured
+themselves in upon my thoughts in a confused manner, and left me
+overwhelmed with melancholy and despair.
+
+Them I repented heartily of all my life past, but that repentance
+yielded me no satisfaction, no peace, no, not in the least, because, as
+I said to myself, it was repenting after the power of further sinning
+was taken away. I seemed not to mourn that I had committed such crimes,
+and for the fact as it was an offence against God and my neighbour, but
+I mourned that I was to be punished for it. I was a penitent, as I
+thought, not that I had sinned, but that I was to suffer, and this took
+away all the comfort, and even the hope of my repentance in my own
+thoughts.
+
+I got no sleep for several nights or days after I came into that
+wretched place, and glad I would have been for some time to have died
+there, though I did not consider dying as it ought to be considered
+neither; indeed, nothing could be filled with more horror to my
+imagination than the very place, nothing was more odious to me than the
+company that was there. Oh! if I had but been sent to any place in the
+world, and not to Newgate, I should have thought myself happy.
+
+In the next place, how did the hardened wretches that were there before
+me triumph over me! What! Mrs. Flanders come to Newgate at last? What!
+Mrs. Mary, Mrs. Molly, and after that plain Moll Flanders? They thought
+the devil had helped me, they said, that I had reigned so long; they
+expected me there many years ago, and was I come at last? Then they
+flouted me with my dejections, welcomed me to the place, wished me joy,
+bid me have a good heart, not to be cast down, things might not be so
+bad as I feared, and the like; then called for brandy, and drank to me,
+but put it all up to my score, for they told me I was but just come to
+the college, as they called it, and sure I had money in my pocket,
+though they had none.
+
+I asked one of this crew how long she had been there. She said four
+months. I asked her how the place looked to her when she first came
+into it. “Just as it did now to you,” says she, “dreadful and
+frightful”; that she thought she was in hell; “and I believe so still,”
+adds she, “but it is natural to me now, I don’t disturb myself about
+it.” “I suppose,” says I, “you are in no danger of what is to follow?”
+“Nay,” says she, “for you are mistaken there, I assure you, for I am
+under sentence, only I pleaded my belly, but I am no more with child
+than the judge that tried me, and I expect to be called down next
+sessions.” This “calling down” is calling down to their former
+judgment, when a woman has been respited for her belly, but proves not
+to be with child, or if she has been with child, and has been brought
+to bed. “Well,” says I, “are you thus easy?” “Ay,” says she, “I can’t
+help myself; what signifies being sad? If I am hanged, there’s an end
+of me,” says she; and away she turns dancing, and sings as she goes the
+following piece of Newgate wit—
+
+“If I swing by the string,
+I shall hear the bell ring,
+And then there’s an end of poor Jenny.”
+
+
+I mention this because it would be worth the observation of any
+prisoner, who shall hereafter fall into the same misfortune, and come
+to that dreadful place of Newgate, how time, necessity, and conversing
+with the wretches that are there familiarizes the place to them; how at
+last they become reconciled to that which at first was the greatest
+dread upon their spirits in the world, and are as impudently cheerful
+and merry in their misery as they were when out of it.
+
+I cannot say, as some do, this devil is not so black as he is painted;
+for indeed no colours can represent the place to the life, not any soul
+conceive aright of it but those who have been sufferers there. But how
+hell should become by degree so natural, and not only tolerable, but
+even agreeable, is a thing unintelligible but by those who have
+experienced it, as I have.
+
+The same night that I was sent to Newgate, I sent the news of it to my
+old governess, who was surprised at it, you may be sure, and spent the
+night almost as ill out of Newgate, as I did in it.
+
+The next morning she came to see me; she did what she could to comfort
+me, but she saw that was to no purpose; however, as she said, to sink
+under the weight was but to increase the weight; she immediately
+applied herself to all the proper methods to prevent the effects of it,
+which we feared, and first she found out the two fiery jades that had
+surprised me. She tampered with them, offered them money, and, in a
+word, tried all imaginable ways to prevent a prosecution; she offered
+one of the wenches £100 to go away from her mistress, and not to appear
+against me, but she was so resolute, that though she was but a servant
+maid at £3 a year wages or thereabouts, she refused it, and would have
+refused it, as my governess said she believed, if she had offered her
+£500. Then she attacked the other maid; she was not so hard-hearted in
+appearance as the other, and sometimes seemed inclined to be merciful;
+but the first wench kept her up, and changed her mind, and would not so
+much as let my governess talk with her, but threatened to have her up
+for tampering with the evidence.
+
+Then she applied to the master, that is to say, the man whose goods had
+been stolen, and particularly to his wife, who, as I told you, was
+inclined at first to have some compassion for me; she found the woman
+the same still, but the man alleged he was bound by the justice that
+committed me, to prosecute, and that he should forfeit his
+recognisance.
+
+My governess offered to find friends that should get his recognisances
+off of the file, as they call it, and that he should not suffer; but it
+was not possible to convince him that could be done, or that he could
+be safe any way in the world but by appearing against me; so I was to
+have three witnesses of fact against me, the master and his two maids;
+that is to say, I was as certain to be cast for my life as I was
+certain that I was alive, and I had nothing to do but to think of
+dying, and prepare for it. I had but a sad foundation to build upon, as
+I said before, for all my repentance appeared to me to be only the
+effect of my fear of death, not a sincere regret for the wicked life
+that I had lived, and which had brought this misery upon me, for the
+offending my Creator, who was now suddenly to be my judge.
+
+I lived many days here under the utmost horror of soul; I had death, as
+it were, in view, and thought of nothing night and day, but of gibbets
+and halters, evil spirits and devils; it is not to be expressed by
+words how I was harassed, between the dreadful apprehensions of death
+and the terror of my conscience reproaching me with my past horrible
+life.
+
+The ordinary of Newgate came to me, and talked a little in his way, but
+all his divinity ran upon confessing my crime, as he called it (though
+he knew not what I was in for), making a full discovery, and the like,
+without which he told me God would never forgive me; and he said so
+little to the purpose, that I had no manner of consolation from him;
+and then to observe the poor creature preaching confession and
+repentance to me in the morning, and find him drunk with brandy and
+spirits by noon, this had something in it so shocking, that I began to
+nauseate the man more than his work, and his work too by degrees, for
+the sake of the man; so that I desired him to trouble me no more.
+
+I know not how it was, but by the indefatigable application of my
+diligent governess I had no bill preferred against me the first
+sessions, I mean to the grand jury, at Guildhall; so I had another
+month or five weeks before me, and without doubt this ought to have
+been accepted by me, as so much time given me for reflection upon what
+was past, and preparation for what was to come; or, in a word, I ought
+to have esteemed it as a space given me for repentance, and have
+employed it as such, but it was not in me. I was sorry (as before) for
+being in Newgate, but had very few signs of repentance about me.
+
+On the contrary, like the waters in the cavities and hollows of
+mountains, which petrify and turn into stone whatever they are suffered
+to drop on, so the continual conversing with such a crew of hell-hounds
+as I was, had the same common operation upon me as upon other people. I
+degenerated into stone; I turned first stupid and senseless, then
+brutish and thoughtless, and at last raving mad as any of them were;
+and, in short, I became as naturally pleased and easy with the place,
+as if indeed I had been born there.
+
+It is scarce possible to imagine that our natures should be capable of
+so much degeneracy, as to make that pleasant and agreeable that in
+itself is the most complete misery. Here was a circumstance that I
+think it is scarce possible to mention a worse: I was as exquisitely
+miserable as, speaking of common cases, it was possible for any one to
+be that had life and health, and money to help them, as I had.
+
+I had weight of guilt upon me enough to sink any creature who had the
+least power of reflection left, and had any sense upon them of the
+happiness of this life, of the misery of another; then I had at first
+remorse indeed, but no repentance; I had now neither remorse nor
+repentance. I had a crime charged on me, the punishment of which was
+death by our law; the proof so evident, that there was no room for me
+so much as to plead not guilty. I had the name of an old offender, so
+that I had nothing to expect but death in a few weeks’ time, neither
+had I myself any thoughts of escaping; and yet a certain strange
+lethargy of soul possessed me. I had no trouble, no apprehensions, no
+sorrow about me, the first surprise was gone; I was, I may well say, I
+know not how; my senses, my reason, nay, my conscience, were all
+asleep; my course of life for forty years had been a horrid
+complication of wickedness, whoredom, adultery, incest, lying, theft;
+and, in a word, everything but murder and treason had been my practice
+from the age of eighteen, or thereabouts, to three-score; and now I was
+engulfed in the misery of punishment, and had an infamous death just at
+the door, and yet I had no sense of my condition, no thought of heaven
+or hell at least, that went any farther than a bare flying touch, like
+the stitch or pain that gives a hint and goes off. I neither had a
+heart to ask God’s mercy, nor indeed to think of it. And in this, I
+think, I have given a brief description of the completest misery on
+earth.
+
+All my terrifying thoughts were past, the horrors of the place were
+become familiar, and I felt no more uneasiness at the noise and
+clamours of the prison, than they did who made that noise; in a word, I
+was become a mere Newgate-bird, as wicked and as outrageous as any of
+them; nay, I scarce retained the habit and custom of good breeding and
+manners, which all along till now ran through my conversation; so
+thorough a degeneracy had possessed me, that I was no more the same
+thing that I had been, than if I had never been otherwise than what I
+was now.
+
+In the middle of this hardened part of my life I had another sudden
+surprise, which called me back a little to that thing called sorrow,
+which indeed I began to be past the sense of before. They told me one
+night that there was brought into the prison late the night before
+three highwaymen, who had committed robbery somewhere on the road to
+Windsor, Hounslow Heath, I think it was, and were pursued to Uxbridge
+by the country, and were taken there after a gallant resistance, in
+which I know not how many of the country people were wounded, and some
+killed.
+
+It is not to be wondered that we prisoners were all desirous enough to
+see these brave, topping gentlemen, that were talked up to be such as
+their fellows had not been known, and especially because it was said
+they would in the morning be removed into the press-yard, having given
+money to the head master of the prison, to be allowed the liberty of
+that better part of the prison. So we that were women placed ourselves
+in the way, that we would be sure to see them; but nothing could
+express the amazement and surprise I was in, when the very first man
+that came out I knew to be my Lancashire husband, the same who lived so
+well at Dunstable, and the same who I afterwards saw at Brickhill, when
+I was married to my last husband, as has been related.
+
+I was struck dumb at the sight, and knew neither what to say nor what
+to do; he did not know me, and that was all the present relief I had. I
+quitted my company, and retired as much as that dreadful place suffers
+anybody to retire, and I cried vehemently for a great while. “Dreadful
+creature that I am,” said I, “how many poor people have I made
+miserable? How many desperate wretches have I sent to the devil?” He
+had told me at Chester he was ruined by that match, and that his
+fortunes were made desperate on my account; for that thinking I had
+been a fortune, he was run into debt more than he was able to pay, and
+that he knew not what course to take; that he would go into the army
+and carry a musket, or buy a horse and take a tour, as he called it;
+and though I never told him that I was a fortune, and so did not
+actually deceive him myself, yet I did encourage the having it thought
+that I was so, and by that means I was the occasion originally of his
+mischief.
+
+The surprise of the thing only struck deeper into my thoughts, and gave
+me stronger reflections than all that had befallen me before. I grieved
+day and night for him, and the more for that they told me he was the
+captain of the gang, and that he had committed so many robberies, that
+Hind, or Whitney, or the Golden Farmer were fools to him; that he would
+surely be hanged if there were no more men left in the country he was
+born in; and that there would abundance of people come in against him.
+
+I was overwhelmed with grief for him; my own case gave me no
+disturbance compared to this, and I loaded myself with reproaches on
+his account. I bewailed his misfortunes, and the ruin he was now come
+to, at such a rate, that I relished nothing now as I did before, and
+the first reflections I made upon the horrid, detestable life I had
+lived began to return upon me, and as these things returned, my
+abhorrence of the place I was in, and of the way of living in it,
+returned also; in a word, I was perfectly changed, and become another
+body.
+
+While I was under these influences of sorrow for him, came notice to me
+that the next sessions approaching there would be a bill preferred to
+the grand jury against me, and that I should be certainly tried for my
+life at the Old Bailey. My temper was touched before, the hardened,
+wretched boldness of spirit which I had acquired abated, and conscious
+in the prison, guilt began to flow in upon my mind. In short, I began
+to think, and to think is one real advance from hell to heaven. All
+that hellish, hardened state and temper of soul, which I have said so
+much of before, is but a deprivation of thought; he that is restored to
+his power of thinking, is restored to himself.
+
+As soon as I began, I say, to think, the first think that occurred to
+me broke out thus: “Lord! what will become of me? I shall certainly
+die! I shall be cast, to be sure, and there is nothing beyond that but
+death! I have no friends; what shall I do? I shall be certainly cast!
+Lord, have mercy upon me! What will become of me?” This was a sad
+thought, you will say, to be the first, after so long a time, that had
+started into my soul of that kind, and yet even this was nothing but
+fright at what was to come; there was not a word of sincere repentance
+in it all. However, I was indeed dreadfully dejected, and disconsolate
+to the last degree; and as I had no friend in the world to communicate
+my distressed thoughts to, it lay so heavy upon me, that it threw me
+into fits and swoonings several times a day. I sent for my old
+governess, and she, give her her due, acted the part of a true friend.
+She left no stone unturned to prevent the grand jury finding the bill.
+She sought out one or two of the jurymen, talked with them, and
+endeavoured to possess them with favourable dispositions, on account
+that nothing was taken away, and no house broken, etc.; but all would
+not do, they were over-ruled by the rest; the two wenches swore home to
+the fact, and the jury found the bill against me for robbery and
+house-breaking, that is, for felony and burglary.
+
+I sunk down when they brought me news of it, and after I came to myself
+again, I thought I should have died with the weight of it. My governess
+acted a true mother to me; she pitied me, she cried with me, and for
+me, but she could not help me; and to add to the terror of it, ’twas
+the discourse all over the house that I should die for it. I could hear
+them talk it among themselves very often, and see them shake their
+heads and say they were sorry for it, and the like, as is usual in the
+place. But still nobody came to tell me their thoughts, till at last
+one of the keepers came to me privately, and said with a sigh, “Well,
+Mrs. Flanders, you will be tried on Friday” (.);
+“what do you intend to do?” I turned as white as a clout, and said,
+“God knows what I shall do; for my part, I know not what to do.” “Why,”
+says he, “I won’t flatter you, I would have you prepare for death, for
+I doubt you will be cast; and as they say you are an old offender, I
+doubt you will find but little mercy. They say,” added he, “your case
+is very plain, and that the witnesses swear so home against you, there
+will be no standing it.”
+
+This was a stab into the very vitals of one under such a burthen as I
+was oppressed with before, and I could not speak to him a word, good or
+bad, for a great while; but at last I burst out into tears, and said to
+him, “Lord! Mr. ——, what must I do?” “Do!” says he, “send for the
+ordinary; send for a minister and talk with him; for, indeed, Mrs.
+Flanders, unless you have very good friends, you are no woman for this
+world.”
+
+This was plain dealing indeed, but it was very harsh to me, at least I
+thought it so. He left me in the greatest confusion imaginable, and all
+that night I lay awake. And now I began to say my prayers, which I had
+scarce done before since my last husband’s death, or from a little
+while after. And truly I may well call it saying my prayers, for I was
+in such a confusion, and had such horror upon my mind, that though I
+cried, and repeated several times the ordinary expression of “Lord,
+have mercy upon me!” I never brought myself to any sense of my being a
+miserable sinner, as indeed I was, and of confessing my sins to God,
+and begging pardon for the sake of Jesus Christ. I was overwhelmed with
+the sense of my condition, being tried for my life, and being sure to
+be condemned, and then I was as sure to be executed, and on this
+account I cried out all night, “Lord, what will become of me? Lord!
+what shall I do? Lord! I shall be hanged! Lord, have mercy upon me!”
+and the like.
+
+My poor afflicted governess was now as much concerned as I, and a great
+deal more truly penitent, though she had no prospect of being brought
+to trial and sentence. Not but that she deserved it as much as I, and
+so she said herself; but she had not done anything herself for many
+years, other than receiving what I and others stole, and encouraging us
+to steal it. But she cried, and took on like a distracted body,
+wringing her hands, and crying out that she was undone, that she
+believed there was a curse from heaven upon her, that she should be
+damned, that she had been the destruction of all her friends, that she
+had brought such a one, and such a one, and such a one to the gallows;
+and there she reckoned up ten or eleven people, some of which I have
+given account of, that came to untimely ends; and that now she was the
+occasion of my ruin, for she had persuaded me to go on, when I would
+have left off. I interrupted her there. “No, mother, no,” said I,
+“don’t speak of that, for you would have had me left off when I got the
+mercer’s money again, and when I came home from Harwich, and I would
+not hearken to you; therefore you have not been to blame; it is I only
+have ruined myself, I have brought myself to this misery”; and thus we
+spent many hours together.
+
+Well, there was no remedy; the prosecution went on, and on the Thursday
+I was carried down to the sessions-house, where I was arraigned, as
+they called it, and the next day I was appointed to be tried. At the
+arraignment I pleaded “Not guilty,” and well I might, for I was
+indicted for felony and burglary; that is, for feloniously stealing two
+pieces of brocaded silk, value £46, the goods of Anthony Johnson, and
+for breaking open his doors; whereas I knew very well they could not
+pretend to prove I had broken up the doors, or so much as lifted up a
+latch.
+
+On the Friday I was brought to my trial. I had exhausted my spirits
+with crying for two or three days before, so that I slept better the
+Thursday night than I expected, and had more courage for my trial than
+indeed I thought possible for me to have.
+
+When the trial began, the indictment was read, I would have spoke, but
+they told me the witnesses must be heard first, and then I should have
+time to be heard. The witnesses were the two wenches, a couple of
+hard-mouthed jades indeed, for though the thing was truth in the main,
+yet they aggravated it to the utmost extremity, and swore I had the
+goods wholly in my possession, that I had hid them among my clothes,
+that I was going off with them, that I had one foot over the threshold
+when they discovered themselves, and then I put t’ other over, so that
+I was quite out of the house in the street with the goods before they
+took hold of me, and then they seized me, and brought me back again,
+and they took the goods upon me. The fact in general was all true, but
+I believe, and insisted upon it, that they stopped me before I had set
+my foot clear of the threshold of the house. But that did not argue
+much, for certain it was that I had taken the goods, and I was bringing
+them away, if I had not been taken.
+
+But I pleaded that I had stole nothing, they had lost nothing, that the
+door was open, and I went in, seeing the goods lie there, and with
+design to buy. If, seeing nobody in the house, I had taken any of them
+up in my hand it could not be concluded that I intended to steal them,
+for that I never carried them farther than the door to look on them
+with the better light.
+
+The Court would not allow that by any means, and made a kind of a jest
+of my intending to buy the goods, that being no shop for the selling of
+anything, and as to carrying them to the door to look at them, the
+maids made their impudent mocks upon that, and spent their wit upon it
+very much; told the Court I had looked at them sufficiently, and
+approved them very well, for I had packed them up under my clothes, and
+was a-going with them.
+
+In short, I was found guilty of felony, but acquitted of the burglary,
+which was but small comfort to me, the first bringing me to a sentence
+of death, and the last would have done no more. The next day I was
+carried down to receive the dreadful sentence, and when they came to
+ask me what I had to say why sentence should not pass, I stood mute a
+while, but somebody that stood behind me prompted me aloud to speak to
+the judges, for that they could represent things favourably for me.
+This encouraged me to speak, and I told them I had nothing to say to
+stop the sentence, but that I had much to say to bespeak the mercy of
+the Court; that I hoped they would allow something in such a case for
+the circumstances of it; that I had broken no doors, had carried
+nothing off; that nobody had lost anything; that the person whose goods
+they were was pleased to say he desired mercy might be shown (which
+indeed he very honestly did); that, at the worst, it was the first
+offence, and that I had never been before any court of justice before;
+and, in a word, I spoke with more courage that I thought I could have
+done, and in such a moving tone, and though with tears, yet not so many
+tears as to obstruct my speech, that I could see it moved others to
+tears that heard me.
+
+The judges sat grave and mute, gave me an easy hearing, and time to say
+all that I would, but, saying neither Yes nor No to it, pronounced the
+sentence of death upon me, a sentence that was to me like death itself,
+which, after it was read, confounded me. I had no more spirit left in
+me, I had no tongue to speak, or eyes to look up either to God or man.
+
+My poor governess was utterly disconsolate, and she that was my
+comforter before, wanted comfort now herself; and sometimes mourning,
+sometimes raging, was as much out of herself, as to all outward
+appearance, as any mad woman in Bedlam. Nor was she only disconsolate
+as to me, but she was struck with horror at the sense of her own wicked
+life, and began to look back upon it with a taste quite different from
+mine, for she was penitent to the highest degree for her sins, as well
+as sorrowful for the misfortune. She sent for a minister, too, a
+serious, pious, good man, and applied herself with such earnestness, by
+his assistance, to the work of a sincere repentance, that I believe,
+and so did the minister too, that she was a true penitent; and, which
+is still more, she was not only so for the occasion, and at that
+juncture, but she continued so, as I was informed, to the day of her
+death.
+
+It is rather to be thought of than expressed what was now my condition.
+I had nothing before me but present death; and as I had no friends to
+assist me, or to stir for me, I expected nothing but to find my name in
+the dead warrant, which was to come down for the execution, the Friday
+afterwards, of five more and myself.
+
+In the meantime my poor distressed governess sent me a minister, who at
+her request first, and at my own afterwards, came to visit me. He
+exhorted me seriously to repent of all my sins, and to dally no longer
+with my soul; not flattering myself with hopes of life, which, he said,
+he was informed there was no room to expect, but unfeignedly to look up
+to God with my whole soul, and to cry for pardon in the name of Jesus
+Christ. He backed his discourses with proper quotations of Scripture,
+encouraging the greatest sinner to repent, and turn from their evil
+way, and when he had done, he kneeled down and prayed with me.
+
+It was now that, for the first time, I felt any real signs of
+repentance. I now began to look back upon my past life with abhorrence,
+and having a kind of view into the other side of time, and things of
+life, as I believe they do with everybody at such a time, began to look
+with a different aspect, and quite another shape, than they did before.
+The greatest and best things, the views of felicity, the joy, the
+griefs of life, were quite other things; and I had nothing in my
+thoughts but what was so infinitely superior to what I had known in
+life, that it appeared to me to be the greatest stupidity in nature to
+lay any weight upon anything, though the most valuable in this world.
+
+The word eternity represented itself with all its incomprehensible
+additions, and I had such extended notions of it, that I know not how
+to express them. Among the rest, how vile, how gross, how absurd did
+every pleasant thing look!—I mean, that we had counted pleasant
+before—especially when I reflected that these sordid trifles were the
+things for which we forfeited eternal felicity.
+
+With these reflections came, of mere course, severe reproaches of my
+own mind for my wretched behaviour in my past life; that I had
+forfeited all hope of any happiness in the eternity that I was just
+going to enter into, and on the contrary was entitled to all that was
+miserable, or had been conceived of misery; and all this with the
+frightful addition of its being also eternal.
+
+I am not capable of reading lectures of instruction to anybody, but I
+relate this in the very manner in which things then appeared to me, as
+far as I am able, but infinitely short of the lively impressions which
+they made on my soul at that time; indeed, those impressions are not to
+be explained by words, or if they are, I am not mistress of words
+enough to express them. It must be the work of every sober reader to
+make just reflections on them, as their own circumstances may direct;
+and, without question, this is what every one at some time or other may
+feel something of; I mean, a clearer sight into things to come than
+they had here, and a dark view of their own concern in them.
+
+But I go back to my own case. The minister pressed me to tell him, as
+far as I thought convenient, in what state I found myself as to the
+sight I had of things beyond life. He told me he did not come as
+ordinary of the place, whose business it is to extort confessions from
+prisoners, for private ends, or for the further detecting of other
+offenders; that his business was to move me to such freedom of
+discourse as might serve to disburthen my own mind, and furnish him to
+administer comfort to me as far as was in his power; and assured me,
+that whatever I said to him should remain with him, and be as much a
+secret as if it was known only to God and myself; and that he desired
+to know nothing of me, but as above to qualify him to apply proper
+advice and assistance to me, and to pray to God for me.
+
+This honest, friendly way of treating me unlocked all the sluices of my
+passions. He broke into my very soul by it; and I unravelled all the
+wickedness of my life to him. In a word, I gave him an abridgment of
+this whole history; I gave him a picture of my conduct for fifty years
+in miniature.
+
+I hid nothing from him, and he in return exhorted me to sincere
+repentance, explained to me what he meant by repentance, and then drew
+out such a scheme of infinite mercy, proclaimed from heaven to sinners
+of the greatest magnitude, that he left me nothing to say, that looked
+like despair, or doubting of being accepted; and in this condition he
+left me the first night.
+
+He visited me again the next morning, and went on with his method of
+explaining the terms of divine mercy, which according to him consisted
+of nothing more, or more difficult, than that of being sincerely
+desirous of it, and willing to accept it; only a sincere regret for,
+and hatred of, those things I had done, which rendered me so just an
+object of divine vengeance. I am not able to repeat the excellent
+discourses of this extraordinary man; ’tis all that I am able to do, to
+say that he revived my heart, and brought me into such a condition that
+I never knew anything of in my life before. I was covered with shame
+and tears for things past, and yet had at the same time a secret
+surprising joy at the prospect of being a true penitent, and obtaining
+the comfort of a penitent—I mean, the hope of being forgiven; and so
+swift did thoughts circulate, and so high did the impressions they had
+made upon me run, that I thought I could freely have gone out that
+minute to execution, without any uneasiness at all, casting my soul
+entirely into the arms of infinite mercy as a penitent.
+
+The good gentleman was so moved also in my behalf with a view of the
+influence which he saw these things had on me, that he blessed God he
+had come to visit me, and resolved not to leave me till the last
+moment; that is, not to leave visiting me.
+
+It was no less than twelve days after our receiving sentence before any
+were ordered for execution, and then upon a Wednesday the dead warrant,
+as they call it, came down, and I found my name was among them. A
+terrible blow this was to my new resolutions; indeed my heart sank
+within me, and I swooned away twice, one after another, but spoke not a
+word. The good minister was sorely afflicted for me, and did what he
+could to comfort me with the same arguments, and the same moving
+eloquence that he did before, and left me not that evening so long as
+the prisonkeepers would suffer him to stay in the prison, unless he
+would be locked up with me all night, which he was not willing to be.
+
+I wondered much that I did not see him all the next day, it being the
+day before the time appointed for execution; and I was greatly
+discouraged, and dejected in my mind, and indeed almost sank for want
+of the comfort which he had so often, and with such success, yielded me
+on his former visits. I waited with great impatience, and under the
+greatest oppressions of spirits imaginable, till about four o’clock he
+came to my apartment; for I had obtained the favour, by the help of
+money, nothing being to be done in that place without it, not to be
+kept in the condemned hole, as they call it, among the rest of the
+prisoners who were to die, but to have a little dirty chamber to
+myself.
+
+My heart leaped within me for joy when I heard his voice at the door,
+even before I saw him; but let any one judge what kind of motion I
+found in my soul, when after having made a short excuse for his not
+coming, he showed me that his time had been employed on my account;
+that he had obtained a favourable report from the Recorder to the
+Secretary of State in my particular case, and, in short, that he had
+brought me a reprieve.
+
+He used all the caution that he was able in letting me know a thing
+which it would have been a double cruelty to have concealed; and yet it
+was too much for me; for as grief had overset me before, so did joy
+overset me now, and I fell into a much more dangerous swooning than I
+did at first, and it was not without a great difficulty that I was
+recovered at all.
+
+The good man having made a very Christian exhortation to me, not to let
+the joy of my reprieve put the remembrance of my past sorrow out of my
+mind, and having told me that he must leave me, to go and enter the
+reprieve in the books, and show it to the sheriffs, stood up just
+before his going away, and in a very earnest manner prayed to God for
+me, that my repentance might be made unfeigned and sincere; and that my
+coming back, as it were, into life again, might not be a returning to
+the follies of life which I had made such solemn resolutions to
+forsake, and to repent of them. I joined heartily in the petition, and
+must needs say I had deeper impressions upon my mind all that night, of
+the mercy of God in sparing my life, and a greater detestation of my
+past sins, from a sense of the goodness which I had tasted in this
+case, than I had in all my sorrow before.
+
+This may be thought inconsistent in itself, and wide from the business
+of this book; particularly, I reflect that many of those who may be
+pleased and diverted with the relation of the wild and wicked part of
+my story may not relish this, which is really the best part of my life,
+the most advantageous to myself, and the most instructive to others.
+Such, however, will, I hope, allow me the liberty to make my story
+complete. It would be a severe satire on such to say they do not relish
+the repentance as much as they do the crime; and that they had rather
+the history were a complete tragedy, as it was very likely to have
+been.
+
+But I go on with my relation. The next morning there was a sad scene
+indeed in the prison. The first thing I was saluted with in the morning
+was the tolling of the great bell at St. Sepulchre’s, as they call it,
+which ushered in the day. As soon as it began to toll, a dismal
+groaning and crying was heard from the condemned hole, where there lay
+six poor souls who were to be executed that day, some from one crime,
+some for another, and two of them for murder.
+
+This was followed by a confused clamour in the house, among the several
+sorts of prisoners, expressing their awkward sorrows for the poor
+creatures that were to die, but in a manner extremely differing one
+from another. Some cried for them; some huzzaed, and wished them a good
+journey; some damned and cursed those that had brought them to it—that
+is, meaning the evidence, or prosecutors—many pitying them, and some
+few, but very few, praying for them.
+
+There was hardly room for so much composure of mind as was required for
+me to bless the merciful Providence that had, as it were, snatched me
+out of the jaws of this destruction. I remained, as it were, dumb and
+silent, overcome with the sense of it, and not able to express what I
+had in my heart; for the passions on such occasions as these are
+certainly so agitated as not to be able presently to regulate their own
+motions.
+
+All the while the poor condemned creatures were preparing to their
+death, and the ordinary, as they call him, was busy with them,
+disposing them to submit to their sentence—I say, all this while I was
+seized with a fit of trembling, as much as I could have been if I had
+been in the same condition, as to be sure the day before I expected to
+be; I was so violently agitated by this surprising fit, that I shook as
+if it had been in the cold fit of an ague, so that I could not speak or
+look but like one distracted. As soon as they were all put into carts
+and gone, which, however, I had not courage enough to see—I say, as
+soon as they were gone, I fell into a fit of crying involuntarily, and
+without design, but as a mere distemper, and yet so violent, and it
+held me so long, that I knew not what course to take, nor could I stop,
+or put a check to it, no, not with all the strength and courage I had.
+
+This fit of crying held me near two hours, and, as I believe, held me
+till they were all out of the world, and then a most humble, penitent,
+serious kind of joy succeeded; a real transport it was, or passion of
+joy and thankfulness, but still unable to give vent to it by words, and
+in this I continued most part of the day.
+
+In the evening the good minister visited me again, and then fell to his
+usual good discourses. He congratulated my having a space yet allowed
+me for repentance, whereas the state of those six poor creatures was
+determined, and they were now past the offers of salvation; he
+earnestly pressed me to retain the same sentiments of the things of
+life that I had when I had a view of eternity; and at the end of all
+told me I should not conclude that all was over, that a reprieve was
+not a pardon, that he could not yet answer for the effects of it;
+however, I had this mercy, that I had more time given me, and that it
+was my business to improve that time.
+
+This discourse, though very seasonable, left a kind of sadness on my
+heart, as if I might expect the affair would have a tragical issue
+still, which, however, he had no certainty of; and I did not indeed, at
+that time, question him about it, he having said that he would do his
+utmost to bring it to a good end, and that he hoped he might, but he
+would not have me be secure; and the consequence proved that he had
+reason for what he said.
+
+It was about a fortnight after this that I had some just apprehensions
+that I should be included in the next dead warrant at the ensuing
+sessions; and it was not without great difficulty, and at last a humble
+petition for transportation, that I avoided it, so ill was I beholding
+to fame, and so prevailing was the fatal report of being an old
+offender; though in that they did not do me strict justice, for I was
+not in the sense of the law an old offender, whatever I was in the eye
+of the judge, for I had never been before them in a judicial way
+before; so the judges could not charge me with being an old offender,
+but the Recorder was pleased to represent my case as he thought fit.
+
+I had now a certainty of life indeed, but with the hard conditions of
+being ordered for transportation, which indeed was hard condition in
+itself, but not when comparatively considered; and therefore I shall
+make no comments upon the sentence, nor upon the choice I was put to.
+We shall all choose anything rather than death, especially when ’tis
+attended with an uncomfortable prospect beyond it, which was my case.
+
+The good minister, whose interest, though a stranger to me, had
+obtained me the reprieve, mourned sincerely for this part. He was in
+hopes, he said, that I should have ended my days under the influence of
+good instruction, that I should not have been turned loose again among
+such a wretched crew as they generally are, who are thus sent abroad,
+where, as he said, I must have more than ordinary secret assistance
+from the grace of God, if I did not turn as wicked again as ever.
+
+I have not for a good while mentioned my governess, who had during
+most, if not all, of this part been dangerously sick, and being in as
+near a view of death by her disease as I was by my sentence, was a
+great penitent—I say, I have not mentioned her, nor indeed did I see
+her in all this time; but being now recovering, and just able to come
+abroad, she came to see me.
+
+I told her my condition, and what a different flux and reflux of tears
+and hopes I had been agitated with; I told her what I had escaped, and
+upon what terms; and she was present when the minister expressed his
+fears of my relapsing into wickedness upon my falling into the wretched
+companies that are generally transported. Indeed I had a melancholy
+reflection upon it in my own mind, for I knew what a dreadful gang was
+always sent away together, and I said to my governess that the good
+minister’s fears were not without cause. “Well, well,” says she, “but I
+hope you will not be tempted with such a horrid example as that.” And
+as soon as the minister was gone, she told me she would not have me
+discouraged, for perhaps ways and means might be found out to dispose
+of me in a particular way, by myself, of which she would talk further
+to me afterward.
+
+I looked earnestly at her, and I thought she looked more cheerful than
+she usually had done, and I entertained immediately a thousand notions
+of being delivered, but could not for my life image the methods, or
+think of one that was in the least feasible; but I was too much
+concerned in it to let her go from me without explaining herself,
+which, though she was very loth to do, yet my importunity prevailed,
+and, while I was still pressing, she answered me in a few words, thus:
+“Why, you have money, have you not? Did you ever know one in your life
+that was transported and had a hundred pounds in his pocket, I’ll
+warrant you, child?” says she.
+
+I understood her presently, but told her I would leave all that to her,
+but I saw no room to hope for anything but a strict execution of the
+order, and as it was a severity that was esteemed a mercy, there was no
+doubt but it would be strictly observed. She said no more but this: “We
+will try what can be done,” and so we parted for that night.
+
+I lay in the prison near fifteen weeks after this order for
+transportation was signed. What the reason of it was, I know not, but
+at the end of this time I was put on board of a ship in the Thames, and
+with me a gang of thirteen as hardened vile creatures as ever Newgate
+produced in my time; and it would really well take up a history longer
+than mine to describe the degrees of impudence and audacious villainy
+that those thirteen were arrived to, and the manner of their behaviour
+in the voyage; of which I have a very diverting account by me, which
+the captain of the ship who carried them over gave me the minutes of,
+and which he caused his mate to write down at large.
+
+It may perhaps be thought trifling to enter here into a relation of all
+the little incidents which attended me in this interval of my
+circumstances; I mean, between the final order of my transportation and
+the time of my going on board the ship; and I am too near the end of my
+story to allow room for it; but something relating to me and my
+Lancashire husband I must not omit.
+
+He had, as I have observed already, been carried from the master’s side
+of the ordinary prison into the press-yard, with three of his comrades,
+for they found another to add to them after some time; here, for what
+reason I knew not, they were kept in custody without being brought to
+trial almost three months. It seems they found means to bribe or buy
+off some of those who were expected to come in against them, and they
+wanted evidence for some time to convict them. After some puzzle on
+this account, at first they made a shift to get proof enough against
+two of them to carry them off; but the other two, of which my
+Lancashire husband was one, lay still in suspense. They had, I think,
+one positive evidence against each of them, but the law strictly
+obliging them to have two witnesses, they could make nothing of it. Yet
+it seems they were resolved not to part with the men neither, not
+doubting but a further evidence would at last come in; and in order to
+this, I think publication was made, that such prisoners being taken,
+any one that had been robbed by them might come to the prison and see
+them.
+
+I took this opportunity to satisfy my curiosity, pretending that I had
+been robbed in the Dunstable coach, and that I would go to see the two
+highwaymen. But when I came into the press-yard, I so disguised myself,
+and muffled my face up so, that he could see little of me, and
+consequently knew nothing of who I was; and when I came back, I said
+publicly that I knew them very well.
+
+Immediately it was rumoured all over the prison that Moll Flanders
+would turn evidence against one of the highwaymen, and that I was to
+come off by it from the sentence of transportation.
+
+They heard of it, and immediately my husband desired to see this Mrs.
+Flanders that knew him so well, and was to be an evidence against him;
+and accordingly I had leave given to go to him. I dressed myself up as
+well as the best clothes that I suffered myself ever to appear in there
+would allow me, and went to the press-yard, but had for some time a
+hood over my face. He said little to me at first, but asked me if I
+knew him. I told him, Yes, very well; but as I concealed my face, so I
+counterfeited my voice, that he had not the least guess at who I was.
+He asked me where I had seen him. I told him between Dunstable and
+Brickhill; but turning to the keeper that stood by, I asked if I might
+not be admitted to talk with him alone. He said Yes, yes, as much as I
+pleased, and so very civilly withdrew.
+
+As soon as he was gone, I had shut the door, I threw off my hood, and
+bursting out into tears, “My dear,” says I, “do you not know me?” He
+turned pale, and stood speechless, like one thunderstruck, and, not
+able to conquer the surprise, said no more but this, “Let me sit down”;
+and sitting down by a table, he laid his elbow upon the table, and
+leaning his head on his hand, fixed his eyes on the ground as one
+stupid. I cried so vehemently, on the other hand, that it was a good
+while ere I could speak any more; but after I had given some vent to my
+passion by tears, I repeated the same words, “My dear, do you not know
+me?” At which he answered, Yes, and said no more a good while.
+
+After some time continuing in the surprise, as above, he cast up his
+eyes towards me and said, “How could you be so cruel?” I did not
+readily understand what he meant; and I answered, “How can you call me
+cruel? What have I been cruel to you in?” “To come to me,” says he, “in
+such a place as this, is it not to insult me? I have not robbed you, at
+least not on the highway.”
+
+I perceived by this that he knew nothing of the miserable circumstances
+I was in, and thought that, having got some intelligence of his being
+there, I had come to upbraid him with his leaving me. But I had too
+much to say to him to be affronted, and told him in few words, that I
+was far from coming to insult him, but at best I came to condole
+mutually; that he would be easily satisfied that I had no such view,
+when I should tell him that my condition was worse than his, and that
+many ways. He looked a little concerned at the general expression of my
+condition being worse than his, but, with a kind smile, looked a little
+wildly, and said, “How can that be? When you see me fettered, and in
+Newgate, and two of my companions executed already, how can your your
+condition be worse than mine?”
+
+“Come, my dear,” says I, “we have a long piece of work to do, if I
+should be to relate, or you to hear, my unfortunate history; but if you
+are disposed to hear it, you will soon conclude with me that my
+condition is worse than yours.” “How is that possible,” says he again,
+“when I expect to be cast for my life the very next sessions?” “Yes,”
+says I, “’tis very possible, when I shall tell you that I have been
+cast for my life three sessions ago, and am under sentence of death; is
+not my case worse than yours?”
+
+Then indeed, he stood silent again, like one struck dumb, and after a
+while he starts up. “Unhappy couple!” says he. “How can this be
+possible?” I took him by the hand. “Come, my dear,” said I, “sit down,
+and let us compare our sorrows. I am a prisoner in this very house, and
+in much worse circumstances than you, and you will be satisfied I do
+not come to insult you, when I tell you the particulars.” And with this
+we sat down together, and I told him so much of my story as I thought
+was convenient, bringing it at last to my being reduced to great
+poverty, and representing myself as fallen into some company that led
+me to relieve my distresses by way that I had been utterly unacquainted
+with, and that they making an attempt at a tradesman’s house, I was
+seized upon for having been but just at the door, the maid-servant
+pulling me in; that I neither had broke any lock nor taken anything
+away, and that notwithstanding that, I was brought in guilty and
+sentenced to die; but that the judges, having been made sensible of the
+hardship of my circumstances, had obtained leave to remit the sentence
+upon my consenting to be transported.
+
+I told him I fared the worse for being taken in the prison for one Moll
+Flanders, who was a famous successful thief, that all of them had heard
+of, but none of them had ever seen; but that, as he knew well, was none
+of my name. But I placed all to the account of my ill fortune, and that
+under this name I was dealt with as an old offender, though this was
+the first thing they had ever known of me. I gave him a long particular
+of things that had befallen me since I saw him, but I told him if I had
+seen him since he might think I had, and then gave him an account how I
+had seen him at Brickhill; how furiously he was pursued, and how, by
+giving an account that I knew him, and that he was a very honest
+gentleman, one Mr. ——, the hue-and-cry was stopped, and the high
+constable went back again.
+
+He listened most attentively to all my story, and smiled at most of the
+particulars, being all of them petty matters, and infinitely below what
+he had been at the head of; but when I came to the story of Brickhill,
+he was surprised. “And was it you, my dear,” said he, “that gave the
+check to the mob that was at our heels there, at Brickhill?” “Yes,”
+said I, “it was I indeed.” And then I told him the particulars which I
+had observed him there. “Why, then,” said he, “it was you that saved my
+life at that time, and I am glad I owe my life to you, for I will pay
+the debt to you now, and I’ll deliver you from the present condition
+you are in, or I will die in the attempt.”
+
+I told him, by no means; it was a risk too great, not worth his running
+the hazard of, and for a life not worth his saving. ’Twas no matter for
+that, he said, it was a life worth all the world to him; a life that
+had given him a new life; “for,” says he, “I was never in real danger
+of being taken, but that time, till the last minute when I was taken.”
+Indeed, he told me his danger then lay in his believing he had not been
+pursued that way; for they had gone off from Hockey quite another way,
+and had come over the enclosed country into Brickhill, not by the road,
+and were sure they had not been seen by anybody.
+
+Here he gave me a long history of his life, which indeed would make a
+very strange history, and be infinitely diverting. He told me he took
+to the road about twelve years before he married me; that the woman
+which called him brother was not really his sister, or any kin to him,
+but one that belonged to their gang, and who, keeping correspondence
+with him, lived always in town, having good store of acquaintance; that
+she gave them a perfect intelligence of persons going out of town, and
+that they had made several good booties by her correspondence; that she
+thought she had fixed a fortune for him when she brought me to him, but
+happened to be disappointed, which he really could not blame her for;
+that if it had been his good luck that I had had the estate, which she
+was informed I had, he had resolved to leave off the road and live a
+retired, sober life but never to appear in public till some general
+pardon had been passed, or till he could, for money, have got his name
+into some particular pardon, that so he might have been perfectly easy;
+but that, as it had proved otherwise, he was obliged to put off his
+equipage and take up the old trade again.
+
+He gave me a long account of some of his adventures, and particularly
+one when he robbed the West Chester coaches near Lichfield, when he got
+a very great booty; and after that, how he robbed five graziers, in the
+west, going to Burford Fair in Wiltshire to buy sheep. He told me he
+got so much money on those two occasions, that if he had known where to
+have found me, he would certainly have embraced my proposal of going
+with me to Virginia, or to have settled in a plantation on some other
+parts of the English colonies in America.
+
+He told me he wrote two or three letters to me, directed according to
+my order, but heard nothing from me. This I indeed knew to be true, but
+the letters coming to my hand in the time of my latter husband, I could
+do nothing in it, and therefore chose to give no answer, that so he
+might rather believe they had miscarried.
+
+Being thus disappointed, he said, he carried on the old trade ever
+since, though when he had gotten so much money, he said, he did not run
+such desperate risks as he did before. Then he gave me some account of
+several hard and desperate encounters which he had with gentlemen on
+the road, who parted too hardly with their money, and showed me some
+wounds he had received; and he had one or two very terrible wounds
+indeed, as particularly one by a pistol bullet, which broke his arm,
+and another with a sword, which ran him quite through the body, but
+that missing his vitals, he was cured again; one of his comrades having
+kept with him so faithfully, and so friendly, as that he assisted him
+in riding near eighty miles before his arm was set, and then got a
+surgeon in a considerable city, remote from that place where it was
+done, pretending they were gentlemen travelling towards Carlisle and
+that they had been attacked on the road by highwaymen, and that one of
+them had shot him into the arm and broke the bone.
+
+This, he said, his friend managed so well, that they were not suspected
+at all, but lay still till he was perfectly cured. He gave me so many
+distinct accounts of his adventures, that it is with great reluctance
+that I decline the relating them; but I consider that this is my own
+story, not his.
+
+I then inquired into the circumstances of his present case at that
+time, and what it was he expected when he came to be tried. He told me
+that they had no evidence against him, or but very little; for that of
+three robberies, which they were all charged with, it was his good
+fortune that he was but in one of them, and that there was but one
+witness to be had for that fact, which was not sufficient, but that it
+was expected some others would come in against him; that he thought
+indeed, when he first saw me, that I had been one that came of that
+errand; but that if somebody came in against him, he hoped he should be
+cleared; that he had had some intimation, that if he would submit to
+transport himself, he might be admitted to it without a trial, but that
+he could not think of it with any temper, and thought he could much
+easier submit to be hanged.
+
+I blamed him for that, and told him I blamed him on two accounts;
+first, because if he was transported, there might be a hundred ways for
+him that was a gentleman, and a bold enterprising man, to find his way
+back again, and perhaps some ways and means to come back before he
+went. He smiled at that part, and said he should like the last the best
+of the two, for he had a kind of horror upon his mind at his being sent
+over to the plantations, as Romans sent condemned slaves to work in the
+mines; that he thought the passage into another state, let it be what
+it would, much more tolerable at the gallows, and that this was the
+general notion of all the gentlemen who were driven by the exigence of
+their fortunes to take the road; that at the place of execution there
+was at least an end of all the miseries of the present state, and as
+for what was to follow, a man was, in his opinion, as likely to repent
+sincerely in the last fortnight of his life, under the pressures and
+agonies of a jail and the condemned hole, as he would ever be in the
+woods and wilderness of America; that servitude and hard labour were
+things gentlemen could never stoop to; that it was but the way to force
+them to be their own executioners afterwards, which was much worse; and
+that therefore he could not have any patience when he did but think of
+being transported.
+
+I used the utmost of my endeavour to persuade him, and joined that
+known woman’s rhetoric to it—I mean, that of tears. I told him the
+infamy of a public execution was certainly a greater pressure upon the
+spirits of a gentleman than any of the mortifications that he could
+meet with abroad could be; that he had at least in the other a chance
+for his life, whereas here he had none at all; that it was the easiest
+thing in the world for him to manage the captain of a ship, who were,
+generally speaking, men of good-humour and some gallantry; and a small
+matter of conduct, especially if there was any money to be had, would
+make way for him to buy himself off when he came to Virginia.
+
+He looked wistfully at me, and I thought I guessed at what he meant,
+that is to say, that he had no money; but I was mistaken, his meaning
+was another way. “You hinted just now, my dear,” said he, “that there
+might be a way of coming back before I went, by which I understood you
+that it might be possible to buy it off here. I had rather give £200 to
+prevent going, than £100 to be set at liberty when I came there.” “That
+is, my dear,” said I, “because you do not know the place so well as I
+do.” “That may be,” said he; “and yet I believe, as well as you know
+it, you would do the same, unless it is because, as you told me, you
+have a mother there.”
+
+I told him, as to my mother, it was next to impossible but that she
+must be dead many years before; and as for any other relations that I
+might have there, I knew them not now; that since the misfortunes I had
+been under had reduced me to the condition I had been in for some
+years, I had not kept up any correspondence with them; and that he
+would easily believe, I should find but a cold reception from them if I
+should be put to make my first visit in the condition of a transported
+felon; that therefore, if I went thither, I resolved not to see them;
+but that I had many views in going there, if it should be my fate,
+which took off all the uneasy part of it; and if he found himself
+obliged to go also, I should easily instruct him how to manage himself,
+so as never to go a servant at all, especially since I found he was not
+destitute of money, which was the only friend in such a condition.
+
+He smiled, and said he did not tell me he had money. I took him up
+short, and told him I hoped he did not understand by my speaking, that
+I should expect any supply from him if he had money; that, on the other
+hand, though I had not a great deal, yet I did not want, and while I
+had any I would rather add to him than weaken him in that article,
+seeing, whatever he had, I knew in the case of transportation he would
+have occasion of it all.
+
+He expressed himself in a most tender manner upon that head. He told me
+what money he had was not a great deal, but that he would never hide
+any of it from me if I wanted it, and that he assured me he did not
+speak with any such apprehensions; that he was only intent upon what I
+had hinted to him before he went; that here he knew what to do with
+himself, but that there he should be the most ignorant, helpless wretch
+alive.
+
+I told him he frighted and terrified himself with that which had no
+terror in it; that if he had money, as I was glad to hear he had, he
+might not only avoid the servitude supposed to be the consequence of
+transportation, but begin the world upon a new foundation, and that
+such a one as he could not fail of success in, with the common
+application usual in such cases; that he could not but call to mind
+that it was what I had recommended to him many years before and had
+proposed it for our mutual subsistence and restoring our fortunes in
+the world; and I would tell him now, that to convince him both of the
+certainty of it and of my being fully acquainted with the method, and
+also fully satisfied in the probability of success, he should first see
+me deliver myself from the necessity of going over at all, and then
+that I would go with him freely, and of my own choice, and perhaps
+carry enough with me to satisfy him that I did not offer it for want of
+being able to live without assistance from him, but that I thought our
+mutual misfortunes had been such as were sufficient to reconcile us
+both to quitting this part of the world, and living where nobody could
+upbraid us with what was past, or we be in any dread of a prison, and
+without agonies of a condemned hole to drive us to it; this where we
+should look back on all our past disasters with infinite satisfaction,
+when we should consider that our enemies should entirely forget us, and
+that we should live as new people in a new world, nobody having
+anything to say to us, or we to them.
+
+I pressed this home to him with so many arguments, and answered all his
+own passionate objections so effectually that he embraced me, and told
+me I treated him with such sincerity and affection as overcame him;
+that he would take my advice, and would strive to submit to his fate in
+hope of having the comfort of my assistance, and of so faithful a
+counsellor and such a companion in his misery. But still he put me in
+mind of what I had mentioned before, namely, that there might be some
+way to get off before he went, and that it might be possible to avoid
+going at all, which he said would be much better. I told him he should
+see, and be fully satisfied, that I would do my utmost in that part
+too, and if it did not succeed, yet that I would make good the rest.
+
+We parted after this long conference with such testimonies of kindness
+and affection as I thought were equal, if not superior, to that at our
+parting at Dunstable; and now I saw more plainly than before, the
+reason why he declined coming at that time any farther with me toward
+London than Dunstable, and why, when we parted there, he told me it was
+not convenient for him to come part of the way to London to bring me
+going, as he would otherwise have done. I have observed that the
+account of his life would have made a much more pleasing history than
+this of mine; and, indeed, nothing in it was more strange than this
+part, viz. that he carried on that desperate trade full five-and-twenty
+years and had never been taken, the success he had met with had been so
+very uncommon, and such that sometimes he had lived handsomely, and
+retired in place for a year or two at a time, keeping himself and a
+man-servant to wait on him, and had often sat in the coffee-houses and
+heard the very people whom he had robbed give accounts of their being
+robbed, and of the place and circumstances, so that he could easily
+remember that it was the same.
+
+In this manner, it seems, he lived near Liverpool at the time he
+unluckily married me for a fortune. Had I been the fortune he expected,
+I verily believe, as he said, that he would have taken up and lived
+honestly all his days.
+
+He had with the rest of his misfortunes the good luck not to be
+actually upon the spot when the robbery was done which he was committed
+for, and so none of the persons robbed could swear to him, or had
+anything to charge upon him. But it seems as he was taken with the
+gang, one hard-mouthed countryman swore home to him, and they were like
+to have others come in according to the publication they had made; so
+that they expected more evidence against him, and for that reason he
+was kept in hold.
+
+However, the offer which was made to him of admitting him to
+transportation was made, as I understood, upon the intercession of some
+great person who pressed him hard to accept of it before a trial; and
+indeed, as he knew there were several that might come in against him, I
+thought his friend was in the right, and I lay at him night and day to
+delay it no longer.
+
+At last, with much difficulty, he gave his consent; and as he was not
+therefore admitted to transportation in court, and on his petition, as
+I was, so he found himself under a difficulty to avoid embarking
+himself as I had said he might have done; his great friend, who was his
+intercessor for the favour of that grant, having given security for him
+that he should transport himself, and not return within the term.
+
+This hardship broke all my measures, for the steps I took afterwards
+for my own deliverance were hereby rendered wholly ineffectual, unless
+I would abandon him, and leave him to go to America by himself; than
+which he protested he would much rather venture, although he were
+certain to go directly to the gallows.
+
+I must now return to my case. The time of my being transported
+according to my sentence was near at hand; my governess, who continued
+my fast friend, had tried to obtain a pardon, but it could not be done
+unless with an expense too heavy for my purse, considering that to be
+left naked and empty, unless I had resolved to return to my old trade
+again, had been worse than my transportation, because there I knew I
+could live, here I could not. The good minister stood very hard on
+another account to prevent my being transported also; but he was
+answered, that indeed my life had been given me at his first
+solicitations, and therefore he ought to ask no more. He was sensibly
+grieved at my going, because, as he said, he feared I should lose the
+good impressions which a prospect of death had at first made on me, and
+which were since increased by his instructions; and the pious gentleman
+was exceedingly concerned about me on that account.
+
+On the other hand, I really was not so solicitous about it as I was
+before, but I industriously concealed my reasons for it from the
+minister, and to the last he did not know but that I went with the
+utmost reluctance and affliction.
+
+It was in the month of February that I was, with seven other convicts,
+as they called us, delivered to a merchant that traded to Virginia, on
+board a ship, riding, as they called it, in Deptford Reach. The officer
+of the prison delivered us on board, and the master of the vessel gave
+a discharge for us.
+
+We were for that night clapped under hatches, and kept so close that I
+thought I should have been suffocated for want of air; and the next
+morning the ship weighed, and fell down the river to a place they call
+Bugby’s Hole, which was done, as they told us, by the agreement of the
+merchant, that all opportunity of escape should be taken from us.
+However, when the ship came thither and cast anchor, we were allowed
+more liberty, and particularly were permitted to come up on the deck,
+but not up on the quarter-deck, that being kept particularly for the
+captain and for passengers.
+
+When by the noise of the men over my head, and the motion of the ship,
+I perceived that they were under sail, I was at first greatly
+surprised, fearing we should go away directly, and that our friends
+would not be admitted to see us any more; but I was easy soon after,
+when I found they had come to an anchor again, and soon after that we
+had notice given by some of the men where we were, that the next
+morning we should have the liberty to come up on deck, and to have our
+friends come and see us if we had any.
+
+All that night I lay upon the hard boards of the deck, as the
+passengers did, but we had afterwards the liberty of little cabins for
+such of us as had any bedding to lay in them, and room to stow any box
+or trunk for clothes and linen, if we had it (which might well be put
+in), for some of them had neither shirt nor shift or a rag of linen or
+woollen, but what was on their backs, or a farthing of money to help
+themselves; and yet I did not find but they fared well enough in the
+ship, especially the women, who got money from the seamen for washing
+their clothes, sufficient to purchase any common things that they
+wanted.
+
+When the next morning we had the liberty to come up on the deck, I
+asked one of the officers of the ship, whether I might not have the
+liberty to send a letter on shore, to let my friends know where the
+ship lay, and to get some necessary things sent to me. This was, it
+seems, the boatswain, a very civil, courteous sort of man, who told me
+I should have that, or any other liberty that I desired, that he could
+allow me with safety. I told him I desired no other; and he answered
+that the ship’s boat would go up to London the next tide, and he would
+order my letter to be carried.
+
+Accordingly, when the boat went off, the boatswain came to me and told
+me the boat was going off, and that he went in it himself, and asked me
+if my letter was ready he would take care of it. I had prepared myself,
+you may be sure, pen, ink, and paper beforehand, and I had gotten a
+letter ready directed to my governess, and enclosed another for my
+fellow-prisoner, which, however, I did not let her know was my husband,
+not to the last. In that to my governess, I let her know where the ship
+lay, and pressed her earnestly to send me what things I knew she had
+got ready for me for my voyage.
+
+When I gave the boatswain the letter, I gave him a shilling with it,
+which I told him was for the charge of a messenger or porter, which I
+entreated him to send with the letter as soon as he came on shore, that
+if possible I might have an answer brought back by the same hand, that
+I might know what was become of my things; “for sir,” says I, “if the
+ship should go away before I have them on board, I am undone.”
+
+I took care, when I gave him the shilling, to let him see that I had a
+little better furniture about me than the ordinary prisoners, for he
+saw that I had a purse, and in it a pretty deal of money; and I found
+that the very sight of it immediately furnished me with very different
+treatment from what I should otherwise have met with in the ship; for
+though he was very courteous indeed before, in a kind of natural
+compassion to me, as a woman in distress, yet he was more than
+ordinarily so afterwards, and procured me to be better treated in the
+ship than, I say, I might otherwise have been; as shall appear in its
+place.
+
+He very honestly had my letter delivered to my governess’s own hands,
+and brought me back an answer from her in writing; and when he gave me
+the answer, gave me the shilling again. “There,” says he, “there’s your
+shilling again too, for I delivered the letter myself.” I could not
+tell what to say, I was so surprised at the thing; but after some
+pause, I said, “Sir, you are too kind; it had been but reasonable that
+you had paid yourself coach-hire, then.”
+
+“No, no,” says he, “I am overpaid. What is the gentlewoman? Your
+sister.”
+
+“No, sir,” says I, “she is no relation to me, but she is a dear friend,
+and all the friends I have in the world.” “Well,” says he, “there are
+few such friends in the world. Why, she cried after you like a child.”
+“Ay,” says I again, “she would give a hundred pounds, I believe, to
+deliver me from this dreadful condition I am in.”
+
+“Would she so?” says he. “For half the money I believe I could put you
+in a way how to deliver yourself.” But this he spoke softly, that
+nobody could hear.
+
+“Alas! sir,” said I, “but then that must be such a deliverance as, if I
+should be taken again, would cost me my life.” “Nay,” said he, “if you
+were once out of the ship, you must look to yourself afterwards; that I
+can say nothing to.” So we dropped the discourse for that time.
+
+In the meantime, my governess, faithful to the last moment, conveyed my
+letter to the prison to my husband, and got an answer to it, and the
+next day came down herself to the ship, bringing me, in the first
+place, a sea-bed as they call it, and all its furniture, such as was
+convenient, but not to let the people think it was extraordinary. She
+brought with her a sea-chest—that is, a chest, such as are made for
+seamen, with all the conveniences in it, and filled with everything
+almost that I could want; and in one of the corners of the chest, where
+there was a private drawer, was my bank of money—this is to say, so
+much of it as I had resolved to carry with me; for I ordered a part of
+my stock to be left behind me, to be sent afterwards in such goods as I
+should want when I came to settle; for money in that country is not of
+much use where all things are brought for tobacco, much more is it a
+great loss to carry it from hence.
+
+But my case was particular; it was by no means proper to me to go
+thither without money or goods, and for a poor convict, that was to be
+sold as soon as I came on shore, to carry with me a cargo of goods
+would be to have notice taken of it, and perhaps to have them seized by
+the public; so I took part of my stock with me thus, and left the other
+part with my governess.
+
+My governess brought me a great many other things, but it was not
+proper for me to look too well provided in the ship, at least till I
+knew what kind of a captain we should have. When she came into the
+ship, I thought she would have died indeed; her heart sank at the sight
+of me, and at the thoughts of parting with me in that condition, and
+she cried so intolerably, I could not for a long time have any talk
+with her.
+
+I took that time to read my fellow-prisoner’s letter, which, however,
+greatly perplexed me. He told me he was determined to go, but found it
+would be impossible for him to be discharged time enough for going in
+the same ship, and which was more than all, he began to question
+whether they would give him leave to go in what ship he pleased, though
+he did voluntarily transport himself; but that they would see him put
+on board such a ship as they should direct, and that he would be
+charged upon the captain as other convict prisoners were; so that he
+began to be in despair of seeing me till he came to Virginia, which
+made him almost desperate; seeing that, on the other hand, if I should
+not be there, if any accident of the sea or of mortality should take me
+away, he should be the most undone creature there in the world.
+
+This was very perplexing, and I knew not what course to take. I told my
+governess the story of the boatswain, and she was mighty eager with me
+treat with him; but I had no mind to it, till I heard whether my
+husband, or fellow-prisoner, so she called him, could be at liberty to
+go with me or no. At last I was forced to let her into the whole
+matter, except only that of his being my husband. I told her I had made
+a positive bargain or agreement with him to go, if he could get the
+liberty of going in the same ship, and that I found he had money.
+
+Then I read a long lecture to her of what I proposed to do when we came
+there, how we could plant, settle, and, in short, grow rich without any
+more adventures; and, as a great secret, I told her that we were to
+marry as soon as he came on board.
+
+She soon agreed cheerfully to my going when she heard this, and she
+made it her business from that time to get him out of the prison in
+time, so that he might go in the same ship with me, which at last was
+brought to pass, though with great difficulty, and not without all the
+forms of a transported prisoner-convict, which he really was not yet,
+for he had not been tried, and which was a great mortification to him.
+As our fate was now determined, and we were both on board, actually
+bound to Virginia, in the despicable quality of transported convicts
+destined to be sold for slaves, I for five years, and he under bonds
+and security not to return to England any more, as long as he lived, he
+was very much dejected and cast down; the mortification of being
+brought on board, as he was, like a prisoner, piqued him very much,
+since it was first told him he should transport himself, and so that he
+might go as a gentleman at liberty. It is true he was not ordered to be
+sold when he came there, as we were, and for that reason he was obliged
+to pay for his passage to the captain, which we were not; as to the
+rest, he was as much at a loss as a child what to do with himself, or
+with what he had, but by directions.
+
+Our first business was to compare our stock. He was very honest to me,
+and told me his stock was pretty good when he came into the prison, but
+the living there as he did in a figure like a gentleman, and, which was
+ten times as much, the making of friends, and soliciting his case, had
+been very expensive; and, in a word, all his stock that he had left was
+£108, which he had about him all in gold.
+
+I gave him an account of my stock as faithfully, that is to say, of
+what I had taken to carry with me, for I was resolved, whatever should
+happen, to keep what I had left with my governess in reserve; that in
+case I should die, what I had with me was enough to give him, and that
+which was left in my governess’s hands would be her own, which she had
+well deserved of me indeed.
+
+My stock which I had with me was £246 some odd shillings; so that we
+had £354 between us, but a worse gotten estate was scarce ever put
+together to begin the world with.
+
+Our greatest misfortune as to our stock was that it was all in money,
+which every one knows is an unprofitable cargo to be carried to the
+plantations. I believe his was really all he had left in the world, as
+he told me it was; but I, who had between £700 and £800 in bank when
+this disaster befell me, and who had one of the faithfullest friends in
+the world to manage it for me, considering she was a woman of manner of
+religious principles, had still £300 left in her hand, which I reserved
+as above; besides, some very valuable things, as particularly two gold
+watches, some small pieces of plate, and some rings—all stolen goods.
+The plate, rings, and watches were put in my chest with the money, and
+with this fortune, and in the sixty-first year of my age, I launched
+out into a new world, as I may call it, in the condition (as to what
+appeared) only of a poor, naked convict, ordered to be transported in
+respite from the gallows. My clothes were poor and mean, but not ragged
+or dirty, and none knew in the whole ship that I had anything of value
+about me.
+
+However, as I had a great many very good clothes and linen in
+abundance, which I had ordered to be packed up in two great boxes, I
+had them shipped on board, not as my goods, but as consigned to my real
+name in Virginia; and had the bills of loading signed by a captain in
+my pocket; and in these boxes was my plate and watches, and everything
+of value except my money, which I kept by itself in a private drawer in
+my chest, which could not be found, or opened, if found, without
+splitting the chest to pieces.
+
+In this condition I lay for three weeks in the ship, not knowing
+whether I should have my husband with me or no, and therefore not
+resolving how or in what manner to receive the honest boatswain’s
+proposal, which indeed he thought a little strange at first.
+
+At the end of this time, behold my husband came on board. He looked
+with a dejected, angry countenance, his great heart was swelled with
+rage and disdain; to be dragged along with three keepers of Newgate,
+and put on board like a convict, when he had not so much as been
+brought to a trial. He made loud complaints of it by his friends, for
+it seems he had some interest; but his friends got some check in their
+application, and were told he had had favour enough, and that they had
+received such an account of him, since the last grant of his
+transportation, that he ought to think himself very well treated that
+he was not prosecuted anew. This answer quieted him at once, for he
+knew too much what might have happened, and what he had room to expect;
+and now he saw the goodness of the advice to him, which prevailed with
+him to accept of the offer of a voluntary transportation. And after
+this his chagrin at these hell-hounds, as he called them, was a little
+over, he looked a little composed, began to be cheerful, and as I was
+telling him how glad I was to have him once more out of their hands, he
+took me in his arms, and acknowledged with great tenderness that I had
+given him the best advice possible. “My dear,” says he, “thou has twice
+saved my life; from henceforward it shall be all employed for you, and
+I’ll always take your advice.”
+
+The ship began now to fill; several passengers came on board, who were
+embarked on no criminal account, and these had accommodations assigned
+them in the great cabin, and other parts of the ship, whereas we, as
+convicts, were thrust down below, I know not where. But when my husband
+came on board, I spoke to the boatswain, who had so early given me
+hints of his friendship in carrying my letter. I told him he had
+befriended me in many things, and I had not made any suitable return to
+him, and with that I put a guinea into his hand. I told him that my
+husband was now come on board; that though we were both under the
+present misfortune, yet we had been persons of a different character
+from the wretched crew that we came with, and desired to know of him,
+whether the captain might not be moved to admit us to some conveniences
+in the ship, for which we would make him what satisfaction he pleased,
+and that we would gratify him for his pains in procuring this for us.
+He took the guinea, as I could see, with great satisfaction, and
+assured me of his assistance.
+
+Then he told us he did not doubt but that the captain, who was one of
+the best-humoured gentlemen in the world, would be easily brought to
+accommodate us as well as we could desire, and, to make me easy, told
+me he would go up the next tide on purpose to speak to the captain
+about it. The next morning, happening to sleep a little longer than
+ordinary, when I got up, and began to look abroad, I saw the boatswain
+among the men in his ordinary business. I was a little melancholy at
+seeing him there, and going forward to speak to him, he saw me, and
+came towards me, but not giving him time to speak first, I said,
+smiling, “I doubt, sir, you have forgot us, for I see you are very
+busy.” He returned presently, “Come along with me, and you shall see.”
+So he took me into the great cabin, and there sat a good sort of a
+gentlemanly man for a seaman, writing, and with a great many papers
+before him.
+
+“Here,” says the boatswain to him that was a-writing, “is the
+gentlewoman that the captain spoke to you of”; and turning to me, he
+said, “I have been so far from forgetting your business, that I have
+been up at the captain’s house, and have represented faithfully to the
+captain what you said, relating to you being furnished with better
+conveniences for yourself and your husband; and the captain has sent
+this gentleman, who is mate of the ship, down with me, on purpose to
+show you everything, and to accommodate you fully to your content, and
+bid me assure you that you shall not be treated like what you were at
+first expected to be, but with the same respect as other passengers are
+treated.”
+
+The mate then spoke to me, and, not giving me time to thank the
+boatswain for his kindness, confirmed what the boatswain had said, and
+added that it was the captain’s delight to show himself kind and
+charitable, especially to those that were under any misfortunes, and
+with that he showed me several cabins built up, some in the great
+cabin, and some partitioned off, out of the steerage, but opening into
+the great cabin on purpose for the accommodation of passengers, and
+gave me leave to choose where I would. However, I chose a cabin which
+opened into the steerage, in which was very good conveniences to set
+our chest and boxes, and a table to eat on.
+
+The mate then told me that the boatswain had given so good a character
+of me and my husband, as to our civil behaviour, that he had orders to
+tell me we should eat with him, if we thought fit, during the whole
+voyage, on the common terms of passengers; that we might lay in some
+fresh provisions, if we pleased; or if not, he should lay in his usual
+store, and we should have share with him. This was very reviving news
+to me, after so many hardships and afflictions as I had gone through of
+late. I thanked him, and told him the captain should make his own terms
+with us, and asked him leave to go and tell my husband of it, who was
+not very well, and was not yet out of his cabin. Accordingly I went,
+and my husband, whose spirits were still so much sunk with the
+indignity (as he understood it) offered him, that he was scared yet
+himself, was so revived with the account that I gave him of the
+reception we were like to have in the ship, that he was quite another
+man, and new vigour and courage appeared in his very countenance. So
+true is it, that the greatest of spirits, when overwhelmed by their
+afflictions, are subject to the greatest dejections, and are the most
+apt to despair and give themselves up.
+
+After some little pause to recover himself, my husband came up with me,
+and gave the mate thanks for the kindness, which he had expressed to
+us, and sent suitable acknowledgment by him to the captain, offering to
+pay him by advance, whatever he demanded for our passage, and for the
+conveniences he had helped us to. The mate told him that the captain
+would be on board in the afternoon, and that he would leave all that
+till he came. Accordingly, in the afternoon the captain came, and we
+found him the same courteous, obliging man that the boatswain had
+represented him to be; and he was so well pleased with my husband’s
+conversation, that, in short, he would not let us keep the cabin we had
+chosen, but gave us one that, as I said before, opened into the great
+cabin.
+
+Nor were his conditions exorbitant, or the man craving and eager to
+make a prey of us, but for fifteen guineas we had our whole passage and
+provisions and cabin, ate at the captain’s table, and were very
+handsomely entertained.
+
+The captain lay himself in the other part of the great cabin, having
+let his round house, as they call it, to a rich planter who went over
+with his wife and three children, who ate by themselves. He had some
+other ordinary passengers, who quartered in the steerage, and as for
+our old fraternity, they were kept under the hatches while the ship lay
+there, and came very little on the deck.
+
+I could not refrain acquainting my governess with what had happened; it
+was but just that she, who was so really concerned for me, should have
+part in my good fortune. Besides, I wanted her assistance to supply me
+with several necessaries, which before I was shy of letting anybody see
+me have, that it might not be public; but now I had a cabin and room to
+set things in, I ordered abundance of good things for our comfort in
+the voyage, as brandy, sugar, lemons, etc., to make punch, and treat
+our benefactor, the captain; and abundance of things for eating and
+drinking in the voyage; also a larger bed, and bedding proportioned to
+it; so that, in a word, we resolved to want for nothing in the voyage.
+
+All this while I had provided nothing for our assistance when we should
+come to the place and begin to call ourselves planters; and I was far
+from being ignorant of what was needful on that occasion; particularly
+all sorts of tools for the planter’s work, and for building; and all
+kinds of furniture for our dwelling, which, if to be bought in the
+country, must necessarily cost double the price.
+
+So I discoursed that point with my governess, and she went and waited
+upon the captain, and told him that she hoped ways might be found out
+for her two unfortunate cousins, as she called us, to obtain our
+freedom when we came into the country, and so entered into a discourse
+with him about the means and terms also, of which I shall say more in
+its place; and after thus sounding the captain, she let him know,
+though we were unhappy in the circumstances that occasioned our going,
+yet that we were not unfurnished to set ourselves to work in the
+country, and we resolved to settle and live there as planters, if we
+might be put in a way how to do it. The captain readily offered his
+assistance, told her the method of entering upon such business, and how
+easy, nay, how certain it was for industrious people to recover their
+fortunes in such a manner. “Madam,” says he, “’tis no reproach to any
+many in that country to have been sent over in worse circumstances than
+I perceive your cousins are in, provided they do but apply with
+diligence and good judgment to the business of that place when they
+come there.”
+
+She then inquired of him what things it was necessary we should carry
+over with us, and he, like a very honest as well as knowing man, told
+her thus: “Madam, your cousins in the first place must procure somebody
+to buy them as servants, in conformity to the conditions of their
+transportation, and then, in the name of that person, they may go about
+what they will; they may either purchase some plantations already
+begun, or they may purchase land of the Government of the country, and
+begin where they please, and both will be done reasonably.” She bespoke
+his favour in the first article, which he promised to her to take upon
+himself, and indeed faithfully performed it, and as to the rest, he
+promised to recommend us to such as should give us the best advice, and
+not to impose upon us, which was as much as could be desired.
+
+She then asked him if it would not be necessary to furnish us with a
+stock of tools and materials for the business of planting, and he said,
+“Yes, by all means.” And then she begged his assistance in it. She told
+him she would furnish us with everything that was convenient whatever
+it cost her. He accordingly gave her a long particular of things
+necessary for a planter, which, by his account, came to about fourscore
+or a hundred pounds. And, in short, she went about as dexterously to
+buy them, as if she had been an old Virginia merchant; only that she
+bought, by my direction, above twice as much of everything as he had
+given her a list of.
+
+These she put on board in her own name, took his bills of loading for
+them, and endorsed those bills of loading to my husband, insuring the
+cargo afterwards in her own name, by our order; so that we were
+provided for all events, and for all disasters.
+
+I should have told you that my husband gave her all his whole stock of
+£108, which, as I have said, he had about him in gold, to lay out thus,
+and I gave her a good sum besides; so that I did not break into the
+stock which I had left in her hands at all, but after we had sorted out
+our whole cargo, we had yet near £200 in money, which was more than
+enough for our purpose.
+
+In this condition, very cheerful, and indeed joyful at being so happily
+accommodated as we were, we set sail from Bugby’s Hole to Gravesend,
+where the ship lay about ten more days, and where the captain came on
+board for good and all. Here the captain offered us a civility, which
+indeed we had no reason to expect, namely, to let us go on shore and
+refresh ourselves, upon giving our words in a solemn manner that we
+would not go from him, and that we would return peaceably on board
+again. This was such an evidence of his confidence in us, that it
+overcame my husband, who, in a mere principle of gratitude, told him,
+as he could not be in any capacity to make a suitable return for such a
+favour, so he could not think of accepting of it, nor could he be easy
+that the captain should run such a risk. After some mutual civilities,
+I gave my husband a purse, in which was eighty guineas, and he put in
+into the captain’s hand. “There, captain,” says he, “there’s part of a
+pledge for our fidelity; if we deal dishonestly with you on any
+account, ’tis your own.” And on this we went on shore.
+
+Indeed, the captain had assurance enough of our resolutions to go, for
+that having made such provision to settle there, it did not seem
+rational that we would choose to remain here at the expense and peril
+of life, for such it must have been if we had been taken again. In a
+word, we went all on shore with the captain, and supped together in
+Gravesend, where we were very merry, stayed all night, lay at the house
+where we supped, and came all very honestly on board again with him in
+the morning. Here we bought ten dozen bottles of good beer, some wine,
+some fowls, and such things as we thought might be acceptable on board.
+
+My governess was with us all this while, and went with us round into
+the Downs, as did also the captain’s wife, with whom she went back. I
+was never so sorrowful at parting with my own mother as I was at
+parting with her, and I never saw her more. We had a fair easterly wind
+sprung up the third day after we came to the Downs, and we sailed from
+thence the 10th of April. Nor did we touch any more at any place, till,
+being driven on the coast of Ireland by a very hard gale of wind, the
+ship came to an anchor in a little bay, near the mouth of a river,
+whose name I remember not, but they said the river came down from
+Limerick, and that it was the largest river in Ireland.
+
+Here, being detained by bad weather for some time, the captain, who
+continued the same kind, good-humoured man as at first, took us two on
+shore with him again. He did it now in kindness to my husband indeed,
+who bore the sea very ill, and was very sick, especially when it blew
+so hard. Here we bought in again a store of fresh provisions,
+especially beef, pork, mutton, and fowls, and the captain stayed to
+pickle up five or six barrels of beef to lengthen out the ship’s store.
+We were here not above five days, when the weather turning mild, and a
+fair wind, we set sail again, and in two-and-forty days came safe to
+the coast of Virginia.
+
+When we drew near to the shore, the captain called me to him, and told
+me that he found by my discourse I had some relations in the place, and
+that I had been there before, and so he supposed I understood the
+custom in their disposing the convict prisoners when they arrived. I
+told him I did not, and that as to what relations I had in the place,
+he might be sure I would make myself known to none of them while I was
+in the circumstances of a prisoner, and that as to the rest, we left
+ourselves entirely to him to assist us, as he was pleased to promise us
+he would do. He told me I must get somebody in the place to come and
+buy us as servants, and who must answer for us to the governor of the
+country, if he demanded us. I told him we should do as he should
+direct; so he brought a planter to treat with him, as it were, for the
+purchase of these two servants, my husband and me, and there we were
+formally sold to him, and went ashore with him. The captain went with
+us, and carried us to a certain house, whether it was to be called a
+tavern or not I know not, but we had a bowl of punch there made of rum,
+etc., and were very merry. After some time the planter gave us a
+certificate of discharge, and an acknowledgment of having served him
+faithfully, and we were free from him the next morning, to go wither we
+would.
+
+For this piece of service the captain demanded of us six thousand
+weight of tabacco, which he said he was accountable for to his
+freighter, and which we immediately bought for him, and made him a
+present of twenty guineas besides, with which he was abundantly
+satisfied.
+
+It is not proper to enter here into the particulars of what part of the
+colony of Virginia we settled in, for divers reasons; it may suffice to
+mention that we went into the great river Potomac, the ship being bound
+thither; and there we intended to have settled first, though afterwards
+we altered our minds.
+
+The first thing I did of moment after having gotten all our goods on
+shore, and placed them in a storehouse, or warehouse, which, with a
+lodging, we hired at the small place or village where we landed—I say,
+the first thing was to inquire after my mother, and after my brother
+(that fatal person whom I married as a husband, as I have related at
+large). A little inquiry furnished me with information that Mrs. ——,
+that is, my mother, was dead; that my brother (or husband) was alive,
+which I confess I was not very glad to hear; but which was worse, I
+found he was removed from the plantation where he lived formerly, and
+where I lived with him, and lived with one of his sons in a plantation
+just by the place where we landed, and where we had hired a warehouse.
+
+I was a little surprised at first, but as I ventured to satisfy myself
+that he could not know me, I was not only perfectly easy, but had a
+great mind to see him, if it was possible to so do without his seeing
+me. In order to that I found out by inquiry the plantation where he
+lived, and with a woman of that place whom I got to help me, like what
+we call a chairwoman, I rambled about towards the place as if I had
+only a mind to see the country and look about me. At last I came so
+near that I saw the dwellinghouse. I asked the woman whose plantation
+that was; she said it belonged to such a man, and looking out a little
+to our right hands, “there,” says she, “is the gentleman that owns the
+plantation, and his father with him.” “What are their Christian names?”
+said I. “I know not,” says she, “what the old gentleman’s name is, but
+the son’s name is Humphrey; and I believe,” says she, “the father’s is
+so too.” You may guess, if you can, what a confused mixture of joy and
+fight possessed my thoughts upon this occasion, for I immediately knew
+that this was nobody else but my own son, by that father she showed me,
+who was my own brother. I had no mask, but I ruffled my hood so about
+my face, that I depended upon it that after above twenty years’
+absence, and withal not expecting anything of me in that part of the
+world, he would not be able to know anything of me. But I need not have
+used all that caution, for the old gentleman was grown dim-sighted by
+some distemper which had fallen upon his eyes, and could but just see
+well enough to walk about, and not run against a tree or into a ditch.
+The woman that was with me had told me that by a mere accident, knowing
+nothing of what importance it was to me. As they drew near to us, I
+said, “Does he know you, Mrs. Owen?” (so they called the woman). “Yes,”
+said she, “if he hears me speak, he will know me; but he can’t see well
+enough to know me or anybody else”; and so she told me the story of his
+sight, as I have related. This made me secure, and so I threw open my
+hoods again, and let them pass by me. It was a wretched thing for a
+mother thus to see her own son, a handsome, comely young gentleman in
+flourishing circumstances, and durst not make herself known to him, and
+durst not take any notice of him. Let any mother of children that reads
+this consider it, and but think with what anguish of mind I restrained
+myself; what yearnings of soul I had in me to embrace him, and weep
+over him; and how I thought all my entrails turned within me, that my
+very bowels moved, and I knew not what to do, as I now know not how to
+express those agonies! When he went from me I stood gazing and
+trembling, and looking after him as long as I could see him; then
+sitting down to rest me, but turned from her, and lying on my face,
+wept, and kissed the ground that he had set his foot on.
+
+I could not conceal my disorder so much from the woman but that she
+perceived it, and thought I was not well, which I was obliged to
+pretend was true; upon which she pressed me to rise, the ground being
+damp and dangerous, which I did accordingly, and walked away.
+
+As I was going back again, and still talking of this gentleman and his
+son, a new occasion of melancholy offered itself thus. The woman began,
+as if she would tell me a story to divert me: “There goes,” says she,
+“a very odd tale among the neighbours where this gentleman formerly
+live.” “What was that?” said I. “Why,” says she, “that old gentleman
+going to England, when he was a young man, fell in love with a young
+lady there, one of the finest women that ever was seen, and married
+her, and brought her over hither to his mother who was then living. He
+lived here several years with her,” continued she, “and had several
+children by her, of which the young gentleman that was with him now was
+one; but after some time, the old gentlewoman, his mother, talking to
+her of something relating to herself when she was in England, and of
+her circumstances in England, which were bad enough, the
+daughter-in-law began to be very much surprised and uneasy; and, in
+short, examining further into things, it appeared past all
+contradiction that the old gentlewoman was her own mother, and that
+consequently that son was his wife’s own brother, which struck the
+whole family with horror, and put them into such confusion that it had
+almost ruined them all. The young woman would not live with him; the
+son, her brother and husband, for a time went distracted; and at last
+the young woman went away for England, and has never been heard of
+since.”
+
+It is easy to believe that I was strangely affected with this story,
+but ’tis impossible to describe the nature of my disturbance. I seemed
+astonished at the story, and asked her a thousand questions about the
+particulars, which I found she was thoroughly acquainted with. At last
+I began to inquire into the circumstances of the family, how the old
+gentlewoman, I mean my mother, died, and how she left what she had; for
+my mother had promised me very solemnly, that when she died she would
+do something for me, and leave it so, as that, if I was living, I
+should one way or other come at it, without its being in the power of
+her son, my brother and husband, to prevent it. She told me she did not
+know exactly how it was ordered, but she had been told that my mother
+had left a sum of money, and had tied her plantation for the payment of
+it, to be made good to the daughter, if ever she could be heard of,
+either in England or elsewhere; and that the trust was left with this
+son, who was the person that we saw with his father.
+
+This was news too good for me to make light of, and, you may be sure,
+filled my heart with a thousand thoughts, what course I should take,
+how, and when, and in what manner I should make myself known, or
+whether I should ever make myself know or no.
+
+Here was a perplexity that I had not indeed skill to manage myself in,
+neither knew I what course to take. It lay heavy upon my mind night and
+day. I could neither sleep nor converse, so that my husband perceived
+it, and wondered what ailed me, strove to divert me, but it was all to
+no purpose. He pressed me to tell him what it was troubled me, but I
+put it off, till at last, importuning me continually, I was forced to
+form a story, which yet had a plain truth to lay it upon too. I told
+him I was troubled because I found we must shift our quarters and alter
+our scheme of settling, for that I found I should be known if I stayed
+in that part of the country; for that my mother being dead, several of
+my relations were come into that part where we then was, and that I
+must either discover myself to them, which in our present circumstances
+was not proper on many accounts, or remove; and which to do I knew not,
+and that this it was that made me so melancholy and so thoughtful.
+
+He joined with me in this, that it was by no means proper for me to
+make myself known to anybody in the circumstances in which we then
+were; and therefore he told me he would be willing to remove to any
+other part of the country, or even to any other country if I thought
+fit. But now I had another difficulty, which was, that if I removed to
+any other colony, I put myself out of the way of ever making a due
+search after those effects which my mother had left. Again I could
+never so much as think of breaking the secret of my former marriage to
+my new husband; it was not a story, as I thought, that would bear
+telling, nor could I tell what might be the consequences of it; and it
+was impossible to search into the bottom of the thing without making it
+public all over the country, as well who I was, as what I now was also.
+
+In this perplexity I continued a great while, and this made my spouse
+very uneasy; for he found me perplexed, and yet thought I was not open
+with him, and did not let him into every part of my grievance; and he
+would often say, he wondered what he had done that I would not trust
+him with whatever it was, especially if it was grievous and afflicting.
+The truth is, he ought to have been trusted with everything, for no man
+in the world could deserve better of a wife; but this was a thing I
+knew not how to open to him, and yet having nobody to disclose any part
+of it to, the burthen was too heavy for my mind; for let them say what
+they please of our sex not being able to keep a secret, my life is a
+plain conviction to me of the contrary; but be it our sex, or the man’s
+sex, a secret of moment should always have a confidant, a bosom friend,
+to whom we may communicate the joy of it, or the grief of it, be it
+which it will, or it will be a double weight upon the spirits, and
+perhaps become even insupportable in itself; and this I appeal to all
+human testimony for the truth of.
+
+And this is the cause why many times men as well as women, and men of
+the greatest and best qualities other ways, yet have found themselves
+weak in this part, and have not been able to bear the weight of a
+secret joy or of a secret sorrow, but have been obliged to disclose it,
+even for the mere giving vent to themselves, and to unbend the mind
+oppressed with the load and weights which attended it. Nor was this any
+token of folly or thoughtlessness at all, but a natural consequence of
+the thing; and such people, had they struggled longer with the
+oppression, would certainly have told it in their sleep, and disclosed
+the secret, let it have been of what fatal nature soever, without
+regard to the person to whom it might be exposed. This necessity of
+nature is a thing which works sometimes with such vehemence in the
+minds of those who are guilty of any atrocious villainy, such as secret
+murder in particular, that they have been obliged to discover it,
+though the consequence would necessarily be their own destruction. Now,
+though it may be true that the divine justice ought to have the glory
+of all those discoveries and confessions, yet ’tis as certain that
+Providence, which ordinarily works by the hands of nature, makes use
+here of the same natural causes to produce those extraordinary effects.
+
+I could give several remarkable instances of this in my long
+conversation with crime and with criminals. I knew one fellow that,
+while I was in prison in Newgate, was one of those they called then
+night-fliers. I know not what other word they may have understood it by
+since, but he was one who by connivance was admitted to go abroad every
+evening, when he played his pranks, and furnished those honest people
+they call thief-catchers with business to find out the next day, and
+restore for a reward what they had stolen the evening before. This
+fellow was as sure to tell in his sleep all that he had done, and every
+step he had taken, what he had stolen, and where, as sure as if he had
+engaged to tell it waking, and that there was no harm or danger in it,
+and therefore he was obliged, after he had been out, to lock himself
+up, or be locked up by some of the keepers that had him in fee, that
+nobody should hear him; but, on the other hand, if he had told all the
+particulars, and given a full account of his rambles and success, to
+any comrade, any brother thief, or to his employers, as I may justly
+call them, then all was well with him, and he slept as quietly as other
+people.
+
+As the publishing this account of my life is for the sake of the just
+moral of very part of it, and for instruction, caution, warning, and
+improvement to every reader, so this will not pass, I hope, for an
+unnecessary digression concerning some people being obliged to disclose
+the greatest secrets either of their own or other people’s affairs.
+
+Under the certain oppression of this weight upon my mind, I laboured in
+the case I have been naming; and the only relief I found for it was to
+let my husband into so much of it as I thought would convince him of
+the necessity there was for us to think of settling in some other part
+of the world; and the next consideration before us was, which part of
+the English settlements we should go to. My husband was a perfect
+stranger to the country, and had not yet so much as a geographical
+knowledge of the situation of the several places; and I, that, till I
+wrote this, did not know what the word geographical signified, had only
+a general knowledge from long conversation with people that came from
+or went to several places; but this I knew, that Maryland,
+Pennsylvania, East and West Jersey, New York, and New England lay all
+north of Virginia, and that they were consequently all colder climates,
+to which for that very reason, I had an aversion. For that as I
+naturally loved warm weather, so now I grew into years I had a stronger
+inclination to shun a cold climate. I therefore considered of going to
+Carolina, which is the only southern colony of the English on the
+continent of America, and hither I proposed to go; and the rather
+because I might with great ease come from thence at any time, when it
+might be proper to inquire after my mother’s effects, and to make
+myself known enough to demand them.
+
+With this resolution I proposed to my husband our going away from where
+we was, and carrying all our effects with us to Carolina, where we
+resolved to settle; for my husband readily agreed to the first part,
+viz. that was not at all proper to stay where we was, since I had
+assured him we should be known there, and the rest I effectually
+concealed from him.
+
+But now I found a new difficulty upon me. The main affair grew heavy
+upon my mind still, and I could not think of going out of the country
+without somehow or other making inquiry into the grand affair of what
+my mother had done for me; nor could I with any patience bear the
+thought of going away, and not make myself known to my old husband
+(brother), or to my child, his son; only I would fain have had this
+done without my new husband having any knowledge of it, or they having
+any knowledge of him, or that I had such a thing as a husband.
+
+I cast about innumerable ways in my thoughts how this might be done. I
+would gladly have sent my husband away to Carolina with all our goods,
+and have come after myself, but this was impracticable; he would never
+stir without me, being himself perfectly unacquainted with the country,
+and with the methods of settling there or anywhere else. Then I thought
+we would both go first with part of our goods, and that when we were
+settled I should come back to Virginia and fetch the remainder; but
+even then I knew he would never part with me, and be left there to go
+on alone. The case was plain; he was bred a gentleman, and by
+consequence was not only unacquainted, but indolent, and when we did
+settle, would much rather go out into the woods with his gun, which
+they call there hunting, and which is the ordinary work of the Indians,
+and which they do as servants; I say, he would rather do that than
+attend the natural business of his plantation.
+
+These were therefore difficulties insurmountable, and such as I knew
+not what to do in. I had such strong impressions on my mind about
+discovering myself to my brother, formerly my husband, that I could not
+withstand them; and the rather, because it ran constantly in my
+thoughts, that if I did not do it while he lived, I might in vain
+endeavour to convince my son afterward that I was really the same
+person, and that I was his mother, and so might both lose the
+assistance and comfort of the relation, and the benefit of whatever it
+was my mother had left me; and yet, on the other hand, I could never
+think it proper to discover myself to them in the circumstances I was
+in, as well relating to the having a husband with me as to my being
+brought over by a legal transportation as a criminal; on both which
+accounts it was absolutely necessary to me to remove from the place
+where I was, and come again to him, as from another place and in
+another figure.
+
+Upon those considerations, I went on with telling my husband the
+absolute necessity there was of our not settling in Potomac River, at
+least that we should be presently made public there; whereas if we went
+to any other place in the world, we should come in with as much
+reputation as any family that came to plant; that, as it was always
+agreeable to the inhabitants to have families come among them to plant,
+who brought substance with them, either to purchase plantations or
+begin new ones, so we should be sure of a kind, agreeable reception,
+and that without any possibility of a discovery of our circumstances.
+
+I told him in general, too, that as I had several relations in the
+place where we were, and that I durst not now let myself be known to
+them, because they would soon come into a knowledge of the occasion and
+reason of my coming over, which would be to expose myself to the last
+degree, so I had reason to believe that my mother, who died here, had
+left me something, and perhaps considerable, which it might be very
+well worth my while to inquire after; but that this too could not be
+done without exposing us publicly, unless we went from hence; and then,
+wherever we settled, I might come, as it were, to visit and to see my
+brother and nephews, make myself known to them, claim and inquire after
+what was my due, be received with respect, and at the same time have
+justice done me with cheerfulness and good will; whereas, if I did it
+now, I could expect nothing but with trouble, such as exacting it by
+force, receiving it with curses and reluctance, and with all kinds of
+affronts, which he would not perhaps bear to see; that in case of being
+obliged to legal proofs of being really her daughter, I might be at
+loss, be obliged to have recourse to England, and it may be to fail at
+last, and so lose it, whatever it might be. With these arguments, and
+having thus acquainted my husband with the whole secret so far as was
+needful of him, we resolved to go and seek a settlement in some other
+colony, and at first thoughts, Carolina was the place we pitched upon.
+
+In order to this we began to make inquiry for vessels going to
+Carolina, and in a very little while got information, that on the other
+side the bay, as they call it, namely, in Maryland, there was a ship
+which came from Carolina, laden with rice and other goods, and was
+going back again thither, and from thence to Jamaica, with provisions.
+On this news we hired a sloop to take in our goods, and taking, as it
+were, a final farewell of Potomac River, we went with all our cargo
+over to Maryland.
+
+This was a long and unpleasant voyage, and my spouse said it was worse
+to him than all the voyage from England, because the weather was but
+indifferent, the water rough, and the vessel small and inconvenient. In
+the next place, we were full a hundred miles up Potomac River, in a
+part which they call Westmoreland County, and as that river is by far
+the greatest in Virginia, and I have heard say it is the greatest river
+in the world that falls into another river, and not directly into the
+sea, so we had base weather in it, and were frequently in great danger;
+for though we were in the middle, we could not see land on either side
+for many leagues together. Then we had the great river or bay of
+Chesapeake to cross, which is where the river Potomac falls into it,
+near thirty miles broad, and we entered more great vast waters whose
+names I know not, so that our voyage was full two hundred miles, in a
+poor, sorry sloop, with all our treasure, and if any accident had
+happened to us, we might at last have been very miserable; supposing we
+had lost our goods and saved our lives only, and had then been left
+naked and destitute, and in a wild, strange place not having one friend
+or acquaintance in all that part of the world. The very thought of it
+gives me some horror, even since the danger is past.
+
+Well, we came to the place in five days’ sailing; I think they call it
+Philip’s Point; and behold, when we came thither, the ship bound to
+Carolina was loaded and gone away but three days before. This was a
+disappointment; but, however, I, that was to be discouraged with
+nothing, told my husband that since we could not get passage to
+Carolina, and that the country we was in was very fertile and good, we
+would, if he liked of it, see if we could find out anything for our
+tune where we was, and that if he liked things we would settle here.
+
+We immediately went on shore, but found no conveniences just at that
+place, either for our being on shore or preserving our goods on shore,
+but was directed by a very honest Quaker, whom we found there, to go to
+a place about sixty miles east; that is to say, nearer the mouth of the
+bay, where he said he lived, and where we should be accommodated,
+either to plant, or to wait for any other place to plant in that might
+be more convenient; and he invited us with so much kindness and simple
+honesty, that we agreed to go, and the Quaker himself went with us.
+
+Here we bought us two servants, viz. an English woman-servant just come
+on shore from a ship of Liverpool, and a Negro man-servant, things
+absolutely necessary for all people that pretended to settle in that
+country. This honest Quaker was very helpful to us, and when we came to
+the place that he proposed to us, found us out a convenient storehouse
+for our goods, and lodging for ourselves and our servants; and about
+two months or thereabouts afterwards, by his direction, we took up a
+large piece of land from the governor of that country, in order to form
+our plantation, and so we laid the thoughts of going to Carolina wholly
+aside, having been very well received here, and accommodated with a
+convenient lodging till we could prepare things, and have land enough
+cleared, and timber and materials provided for building us a house, all
+which we managed by the direction of the Quaker; so that in one year’s
+time we had nearly fifty acres of land cleared, part of it enclosed,
+and some of it planted with tabacco, though not much; besides, we had
+garden ground and corn sufficient to help supply our servants with
+roots and herbs and bread.
+
+And now I persuaded my husband to let me go over the bay again, and
+inquire after my friends. He was the willinger to consent to it now,
+because he had business upon his hands sufficient to employ him,
+besides his gun to divert him, which they call hunting there, and which
+he greatly delighted in; and indeed we used to look at one another,
+sometimes with a great deal of pleasure, reflecting how much better
+that was, not than Newgate only, but than the most prosperous of our
+circumstances in the wicked trade that we had been both carrying on.
+
+Our affair was in a very good posture; we purchased of the proprietors
+of the colony as much land for £35, paid in ready money, as would make
+a sufficient plantation to employ between fifty and sixty servants, and
+which, being well improved, would be sufficient to us as long as we
+could either of us live; and as for children, I was past the prospect
+of anything of that kind.
+
+But out good fortune did not end here. I went, as I have said, over the
+bay, to the place where my brother, once a husband, lived; but I did
+not go to the same village where I was before, but went up another
+great river, on the east side of the river Potomac, called Rappahannock
+River, and by this means came on the back of his plantation, which was
+large, and by the help of a navigable creek, or little river, that ran
+into the Rappahannock, I came very near it.
+
+I was now fully resolved to go up point-blank to my brother (husband),
+and to tell him who I was; but not knowing what temper I might find him
+in, or how much out of temper rather, I might make him by such a rash
+visit, I resolved to write a letter to him first, to let him know who I
+was, and that I was come not to give him any trouble upon the old
+relation, which I hoped was entirely forgot, but that I applied to him
+as a sister to a brother, desiring his assistance in the case of that
+provision which our mother, at her decease, had left for my support,
+and which I did not doubt but he would do me justice in, especially
+considering that I was come thus far to look after it.
+
+I said some very tender, kind things in the letter about his son, which
+I told him he knew to be my own child, and that as I was guilty of
+nothing in marrying him, any more than he was in marrying me, neither
+of us having then known our being at all related to one another, so I
+hoped he would allow me the most passionate desire of once seeing my
+one and only child, and of showing something of the infirmities of a
+mother in preserving a violent affect for him, who had never been able
+to retain any thought of me one way or other.
+
+I did believe that, having received this letter, he would immediately
+give it to his son to read, I having understood his eyes being so dim,
+that he could not see to read it; but it fell out better than so, for
+as his sight was dim, so he had allowed his son to open all letters
+that came to his hand for him, and the old gentleman being from home,
+or out of the way when my messenger came, my letter came directly to my
+son’s hand, and he opened and read it.
+
+He called the messenger in, after some little stay, and asked him where
+the person was who gave him the letter. The messenger told him the
+place, which was about seven miles off, so he bid him stay, and
+ordering a horse to be got ready, and two servants, away he came to me
+with the messenger. Let any one judge the consternation I was in when
+my messenger came back, and told me the old gentleman was not at home,
+but his son was come along with him, and was just coming up to me. I
+was perfectly confounded, for I knew not whether it was peace or war,
+nor could I tell how to behave; however, I had but a very few moments
+to think, for my son was at the heels of the messenger, and coming up
+into my lodgings, asked the fellow at the door something. I suppose it
+was, for I did not hear it so as to understand it, which was the
+gentlewoman that sent him; for the messenger said, “There she is, sir”;
+at which he comes directly up to me, kisses me, took me in his arms,
+and embraced me with so much passion that he could not speak, but I
+could feel his breast heave and throb like a child, that cries, but
+sobs, and cannot cry it out.
+
+I can neither express nor describe the joy that touched my very soul
+when I found, for it was easy to discover that part, that he came not
+as a stranger, but as a son to a mother, and indeed as a son who had
+never before known what a mother of his own was; in short, we cried
+over one another a considerable while, when at last he broke out first.
+“My dear mother,” says he, “are you still alive? I never expected to
+have seen your face.” As for me, I could say nothing a great while.
+
+After we had both recovered ourselves a little, and were able to talk,
+he told me how things stood. As to what I had written to his father, he
+told me he had not showed my letter to his father, or told him anything
+about it; that what his grandmother left me was in his hands, and that
+he would do me justice to my full satisfaction; that as to his father,
+he was old and infirm both in body and mind; that he was very fretful
+and passionate, almost blind, and capable of nothing; and he questioned
+whether he would know how to act in an affair which was of so nice a
+nature as this; and that therefore he had come himself, as well to
+satisfy himself in seeing me, which he could not restrain himself from,
+as also to put it into my power to make a judgment, after I had seen
+how things were, whether I would discover myself to his father or no.
+
+This was really so prudently and wisely managed, that I found my son
+was a man of sense, and needed no direction from me. I told him I did
+not wonder that his father was as he had described him, for that his
+head was a little touched before I went away; and principally his
+disturbance was because I could not be persuaded to conceal our
+relation and to live with him as my husband, after I knew that he was
+my brother; that as he knew better than I what his father’s present
+condition was, I should readily join with him in such measure as he
+would direct; that I was indifferent as to seeing his father, since I
+had seen him first, and he could not have told me better news than to
+tell me that what his grandmother had left me was entrusted in his
+hands, who, I doubted not, now he knew who I was, would, as he said, do
+me justice. I inquired then how long my mother had been dead, and where
+she died, and told so many particulars of the family, that I left him
+no room to doubt the truth of my being really and truly his mother.
+
+My son then inquired where I was, and how I had disposed myself. I told
+him I was on the Maryland side of the bay, at the plantation of a
+particular friend who came from England in the same ship with me; that
+as for that side of the bay where he was, I had no habitation. He told
+me I should go home with him, and live with him, if I pleased, as long
+as I lived; that as to his father, he knew nobody, and would never so
+much as guess at me. I considered of that a little, and told him, that
+though it was really no concern to me to live at a distance from him,
+yet I could not say it would be the most comfortable thing in the world
+to me to live in the house with him, and to have that unhappy object
+always before me, which had been such a blow to my peace before; that
+though I should be glad to have his company (my son), or to be as near
+him as possible while I stayed, yet I could not think of being in the
+house where I should be also under constant restraint for fear of
+betraying myself in my discourse, nor should I be able to refrain some
+expressions in my conversing with him as my son, that might discover
+the whole affair, which would by no means be convenient.
+
+He acknowledged that I was right in all this. “But then, dear mother,”
+says he, “you shall be as near me as you can.” So he took me with him
+on horseback to a plantation next to his own, and where I was as well
+entertained as I could have been in his own. Having left me there he
+went away home, telling me we would talk of the main business the next
+day; and having first called me his aunt, and given a charge to the
+people, who it seems were his tenants, to treat me with all possible
+respect. About two hours after he was gone, he sent me a maid-servant
+and a Negro boy to wait on me, and provisions ready dressed for my
+supper; and thus I was as if I had been in a new world, and began
+secretly now to wish that I had not brought my Lancashire husband from
+England at all.
+
+However, that wish was not hearty neither, for I loved my Lancashire
+husband entirely, as indeed I had ever done from the beginning; and he
+merited from me as much as it was possible for a man to do; but that by
+the way.
+
+The next morning my son came to visit me again almost as soon as I was
+up. After a little discourse, he first of all pulled out a deerskin
+bag, and gave it me, with five-and-fifty Spanish pistoles in it, and
+told me that was to supply my expenses from England, for though it was
+not his business to inquire, yet he ought to think I did not bring a
+great deal of money out with me, it not being usual to bring much money
+into that country. Then he pulled out his grandmother’s will, and read
+it over to me, whereby it appeared that she had left a small
+plantation, as he called it, on York River, that is, where my mother
+lived, to me, with the stock of servants and cattle upon it, and given
+it in trust to this son of mine for my use, whenever he should hear of
+my being alive, and to my heirs, if I had any children, and in default
+of heirs, to whomsoever I should by will dispose of it; but gave the
+income of it, till I should be heard of, or found, to my said son; and
+if I should not be living, then it was to him, and his heirs.
+
+This plantation, though remote from him, he said he did not let out,
+but managed it by a head-clerk (steward), as he did another that was
+his father’s, that lay hard by it, and went over himself three or four
+times a year to look after it. I asked him what he thought the
+plantation might be worth. He said, if I would let it out, he would
+give me about £60 a year for it; but if I would live on it, then it
+would be worth much more, and, he believed, would bring me in about
+£150 a year. But seeing I was likely either to settle on the other side
+of the bay, or might perhaps have a mind to go back to England again,
+if I would let him be my steward he would manage it for me, as he had
+done for himself, and that he believed he should be able to send me as
+much tobacco to England from it as would yield me about £100 a year,
+sometimes more.
+
+This was all strange news to me, and things I had not been used to; and
+really my heart began to look up more seriously than I think it ever
+did before, and to look with great thankfulness to the hand of
+Providence, which had done such wonders for me, who had been myself the
+greatest wonder of wickedness perhaps that had been suffered to live in
+the world. And I must again observe, that not on this occasion only,
+but even on all other occasions of thankfulness, my past wicked and
+abominable life never looked so monstrous to me, and I never so
+completely abhorred it, and reproached myself with it, as when I had a
+sense upon me of Providence doing good to me, while I had been making
+those vile returns on my part.
+
+But I leave the reader to improve these thoughts, as no doubt they will
+see cause, and I go on to the fact. My son’s tender carriage and kind
+offers fetched tears from me, almost all the while he talked with me.
+Indeed, I could scarce discourse with him but in the intervals of my
+passion; however, at length I began, and expressing myself with wonder
+at my being so happy to have the trust of what I had left, put into the
+hands of my own child, I told him, that as to the inheritance of it, I
+had no child but him in the world, and was now past having any if I
+should marry, and therefore would desire him to get a writing drawn,
+which I was ready to execute, by which I would, after me, give it
+wholly to him and to his heirs. And in the meantime, smiling, I asked
+him what made him continue a bachelor so long. His answer was kind and
+ready, that Virginia did not yield any great plenty of wives, and that
+since I talked of going back to England, I should send him a wife from
+London.
+
+This was the substance of our first day’s conversation, the pleasantest
+day that ever passed over my head in my life, and which gave me the
+truest satisfaction. He came every day after this, and spent a great
+part of his time with me, and carried me about to several of his
+friends’ houses, where I was entertained with great respect. Also I
+dined several times at his own house, when he took care always to see
+his half-dead father so out of the way that I never saw him, or he me.
+I made him one present, and it was all I had of value, and that was one
+of the gold watches, of which I mentioned above, that I had two in my
+chest, and this I happened to have with me, and I gave it him at his
+third visit. I told him I had nothing of any value to bestow but that,
+and I desired he would now and then kiss it for my sake. I did not
+indeed tell him that I had stole it from a gentlewoman’s side, at a
+meeting-house in London. That’s by the way.
+
+He stood a little while hesitating, as if doubtful whether to take it
+or no; but I pressed it on him, and made him accept it, and it was not
+much less worth than his leather pouch full of Spanish gold; no, though
+it were to be reckoned as if at London, whereas it was worth twice as
+much there, where I gave it him. At length he took it, kissed it, told
+me the watch should be a debt upon him that he would be paying as long
+as I lived.
+
+A few days after he brought the writings of gift, and the scrivener
+with them, and I signed them very freely, and delivered them to him
+with a hundred kisses; for sure nothing ever passed between a mother
+and a tender, dutiful child with more affection. The next day he brings
+me an obligation under his hand and seal, whereby he engaged himself to
+manage and improve the plantation for my account, and with his utmost
+skill, and to remit the produce to my order wherever I should be; and
+withal, to be obliged himself to make up the produce £100 a year to me.
+When he had done so, he told me that as I came to demand it before the
+crop was off, I had a right to produce of the current year, and so he
+paid me £100 in Spanish pieces of eight, and desired me to give him a
+receipt for it as in full for that year, ending at Christmas following;
+this being about the latter end of August.
+
+I stayed here about five weeks, and indeed had much ado to get away
+then. Nay, he would have come over the bay with me, but I would by no
+means allow him to it. However, he would send me over in a sloop of his
+own, which was built like a yacht, and served him as well for pleasure
+as business. This I accepted of, and so, after the utmost expressions
+both of duty and affection, he let me come away, and I arrived safe in
+two days at my friend’s the Quaker’s.
+
+I brought over with me for the use of our plantation, three horses,
+with harness and saddles, some hogs, two cows, and a thousand other
+things, the gift of the kindest and tenderest child that ever woman
+had. I related to my husband all the particulars of this voyage, except
+that I called my son my cousin; and first I told him that I had lost my
+watch, which he seemed to take as a misfortune; but then I told him how
+kind my cousin had been, that my mother had left me such a plantation,
+and that he had preserved it for me, in hopes some time or other he
+should hear from me; then I told him that I had left it to his
+management, that he would render me a faithful account of its produce;
+and then I pulled him out the £100 in silver, as the first year’s
+produce; and then pulling out the deerskin purse with the pistoles,
+“And here, my dear,” says I, “is the gold watch.” My husband—so is
+Heaven’s goodness sure to work the same effects in all sensible minds
+where mercies touch the heart—lifted up both hands, and with an ecstacy
+of joy, “What is God a-doing,” says he, “for such an ungrateful dog as
+I am!” Then I let him know what I had brought over in the sloop,
+besides all this; I mean the horses, hogs, and cows, and other stores
+for our plantation; all which added to his surprise, and filled his
+heart with thankfulness; and from this time forward I believe he was as
+sincere a penitent, and as thoroughly a reformed man, as ever God’s
+goodness brought back from a profligate, a highwayman, and a robber. I
+could fill a larger history than this with the evidence of this truth,
+and but that I doubt that part of the story will not be equally
+diverting as the wicked part, I have had thoughts of making a volume of
+it by itself.
+
+As for myself, as this is to be my own story, not my husband’s, I
+return to that part which related to myself. We went on with our
+plantation, and managed it with the help and diversion of such friends
+as we got there by our obliging behaviour, and especially the honest
+Quaker, who proved a faithful, generous, and steady friend to us; and
+we had very good success, for having a flourishing stock to begin with,
+as I have said, and this being now increased by the addition of £150
+sterling in money, we enlarged our number of servants, built us a very
+good house, and cured every year a great deal of land. The second year
+I wrote to my old governess, giving her part with us of the joy of our
+success, and order her how to lay out the money I had left with her,
+which was £250 as above, and to send it to us in goods, which she
+performed with her usual kindness and fidelity, and this arrived safe
+to us.
+
+Here we had a supply of all sorts of clothes, as well for my husband as
+for myself; and I took especial care to buy for him all those things
+that I knew he delighted to have; as two good long wigs, two
+silver-hilted swords, three or four fine fowling-pieces, a fine saddle
+with holsters and pistols very handsome, with a scarlet cloak; and, in
+a word, everything I could think of to oblige him, and to make him
+appear, as he really was, a very fine gentleman. I ordered a good
+quantity of such household stuff as we yet wanted, with linen of all
+sorts for us both. As for myself, I wanted very little of clothes or
+linen, being very well furnished before. The rest of my cargo consisted
+in iron-work of all sorts, harness for horses, tools, clothes for
+servants, and woollen cloth, stuffs, serges, stockings, shoes, hats,
+and the like, such as servants wear; and whole pieces also to make up
+for servants, all by direction of the Quaker; and all this cargo
+arrived safe, and in good condition, with three woman-servants, lusty
+wenches, which my old governess had picked for me, suitable enough to
+the place, and to the work we had for them to do; one of which happened
+to come double, having been got with child by one of the seamen in the
+ship, as she owned afterwards, before the ship got so far as Gravesend;
+so she brought us a stout boy, about seven months after her landing.
+
+My husband, you may suppose, was a little surprised at the arriving of
+all this cargo from England; and talking with me after he saw the
+account of this particular, “My dear,” says he, “what is the meaning of
+all this? I fear you will run us too deep in debt: when shall we be
+able to make return for it all?” I smiled, and told him that it was all
+paid for; and then I told him, that what our circumstances might expose
+us to, I had not taken my whole stock with me, that I had reserved so
+much in my friend’s hands, which now we were come over safe, and was
+settled in a way to live, I had sent for, as he might see.
+
+He was amazed, and stood a while telling upon his fingers, but said
+nothing. At last he began thus: “Hold, let’s see,” says he, telling
+upon his fingers still, and first on his thumb; “there’s £246 in money
+at first, then two gold watches, diamond rings, and plate,” says he,
+upon the forefinger. Then upon the next finger, “Here’s a plantation on
+York River, £100 a year, then £150 in money, then a sloop load of
+horses, cows, hogs, and stores”; and so on to the thumb again. “And
+now,” says he, “a cargo cost £250 in England, and worth here twice the
+money.” “Well,” says I, “what do you make of all that?” “Make of it?”
+says he; “why, who says I was deceived when I married a wife in
+Lancashire? I think I have married a fortune, and a very good fortune
+too,” says he.
+
+In a word, we were now in very considerable circumstances, and every
+year increasing; for our new plantation grew upon our hands insensibly,
+and in eight years which we lived upon it, we brought it to such pitch,
+that the produce was at least £300 sterling a year; I mean, worth so
+much in England.
+
+After I had been a year at home again, I went over the bay to see my
+son, and to receive another year’s income of my plantation; and I was
+surprised to hear, just at my landing there, that my old husband was
+dead, and had not been buried above a fortnight. This, I confess, was
+not disagreeable news, because now I could appear as I was, in a
+married condition; so I told my son before I came from him, that I
+believed I should marry a gentleman who had a plantation near mine; and
+though I was legally free to marry, as to any obligation that was on me
+before, yet that I was shy of it, lest the blot should some time or
+other be revived, and it might make a husband uneasy. My son, the same
+kind, dutiful, and obliging creature as ever, treated me now at his own
+house, paid me my hundred pounds, and sent me home again loaded with
+presents.
+
+Some time after this, I let my son know I was married, and invited him
+over to see us, and my husband wrote a very obliging letter to him
+also, inviting him to come and see him; and he came accordingly some
+months after, and happened to be there just when my cargo from England
+came in, which I let him believe belonged all to my husband’s estate,
+not to me.
+
+It must be observed that when the old wretch my brother (husband) was
+dead, I then freely gave my husband an account of all that affair, and
+of this cousin, as I had called him before, being my own son by that
+mistaken unhappy match. He was perfectly easy in the account, and told
+me he should have been as easy if the old man, as we called him, had
+been alive. “For,” said he, “it was no fault of yours, nor of his; it
+was a mistake impossible to be prevented.” He only reproached him with
+desiring me to conceal it, and to live with him as a wife, after I knew
+that he was my brother; that, he said, was a vile part. Thus all these
+difficulties were made easy, and we lived together with the greatest
+kindness and comfort imaginable.
+
+We are grown old; I am come back to England, being almost seventy years
+of age, husband sixty-eight, having performed much more than the
+limited terms of my transportation; and now, notwithstanding all the
+fatigues and all the miseries we have both gone through, we are both of
+us in good heart and health. My husband remained there some time after
+me to settle our affairs, and at first I had intended to go back to
+him, but at his desire I altered that resolution, and he is come over
+to England also, where we resolve to spend the remainder of our years
+in sincere penitence for the wicked lives we have lived.
+
+ WRITTEN IN THE YEAR 1683
+
+
+
+
+*** END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK MOLL FLANDERS ***
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+<title>The Project Gutenberg eBook of The Fortunes and Misfortunes of the Famous Moll Flanders, by Daniel Defoe</title>
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+<div style='text-align:center; font-size:1.2em; font-weight:bold;'>The Project Gutenberg eBook of The Fortunes and Misfortunes of the Famous Moll Flanders, by Daniel Defoe</div>
+<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'>
+This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere in the United States and
+most other parts of the world at no cost and with almost no restrictions
+whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or re-use it under the terms
+of the Project Gutenberg License included with this eBook or online
+at <a href="https://www.gutenberg.org">www.gutenberg.org</a>. If you
+are not located in the United States, you will have to check the laws of the
+country where you are located before using this eBook.
+</div>
+<div style='display:block; margin-top:1em; margin-bottom:1em; margin-left:2em; text-indent:-2em'>Title: The Fortunes and Misfortunes of the Famous Moll Flanders</div>
+<div style='display:block; margin-top:1em; margin-bottom:1em; margin-left:2em; text-indent:-2em'>Author: Daniel Defoe</div>
+<div style='display:block;margin:1em 0'>Release Date: December, 1995 [eBook #370]<br />
+[Most recently updated: February 18, 2023]</div>
+<div style='display:block;margin:1em 0'>Language: English</div>
+<div style='margin-top:2em;margin-bottom:4em'>*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK MOLL FLANDERS ***</div>
+
+<div class="fig" style="width:70%;">
+<img src="images/cover.jpg" style="width:100%;" alt="cover " />
+</div>
+
+<h1>The Fortunes and Misfortunes of the Famous Moll Flanders, &amp;c.</h1>
+
+<p class="letter">
+Who was Born in Newgate, and during a Life of continu&rsquo;d Variety for
+Threescore Years, besides her Childhood, was Twelve Year a Whore, five times a
+Wife (whereof once to her own Brother), Twelve Year a Thief, Eight Year a
+Transported Felon in Virginia, at last grew Rich, liv&rsquo;d Honest, and dies
+a Penitent. Written from her own Memorandums . . .
+</p>
+
+<h2>by Daniel Defoe</h2>
+
+<hr />
+
+<div class="chapter">
+
+<h3>THE AUTHOR&rsquo;S PREFACE</h3>
+
+<p>
+The world is so taken up of late with novels and romances, that it will be hard
+for a private history to be taken for genuine, where the names and other
+circumstances of the person are concealed, and on this account we must be
+content to leave the reader to pass his own opinion upon the ensuing sheet, and
+take it just as he pleases.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+The author is here supposed to be writing her own history, and in the very
+beginning of her account she gives the reasons why she thinks fit to conceal
+her true name, after which there is no occasion to say any more about that.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+It is true that the original of this story is put into new words, and the style
+of the famous lady we here speak of is a little altered; particularly she is
+made to tell her own tale in modester words that she told it at first, the copy
+which came first to hand having been written in language more like one still in
+Newgate than one grown penitent and humble, as she afterwards pretends to be.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+The pen employed in finishing her story, and making it what you now see it to
+be, has had no little difficulty to put it into a dress fit to be seen, and to
+make it speak language fit to be read. When a woman debauched from her youth,
+nay, even being the offspring of debauchery and vice, comes to give an account
+of all her vicious practices, and even to descend to the particular occasions
+and circumstances by which she ran through in threescore years, an author must
+be hard put to it wrap it up so clean as not to give room, especially for
+vicious readers, to turn it to his disadvantage.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+All possible care, however, has been taken to give no lewd ideas, no immodest
+turns in the new dressing up of this story; no, not to the worst parts of her
+expressions. To this purpose some of the vicious part of her life, which could
+not be modestly told, is quite left out, and several other parts are very much
+shortened. What is left &rsquo;tis hoped will not offend the chastest reader or
+the modest hearer; and as the best use is made even of the worst story, the
+moral &rsquo;tis hoped will keep the reader serious, even where the story might
+incline him to be otherwise. To give the history of a wicked life repented of,
+necessarily requires that the wicked part should be make as wicked as the real
+history of it will bear, to illustrate and give a beauty to the penitent part,
+which is certainly the best and brightest, if related with equal spirit and
+life.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+It is suggested there cannot be the same life, the same brightness and beauty,
+in relating the penitent part as is in the criminal part. If there is any truth
+in that suggestion, I must be allowed to say &rsquo;tis because there is not
+the same taste and relish in the reading, and indeed it is too true that the
+difference lies not in the real worth of the subject so much as in the gust and
+palate of the reader.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+But as this work is chiefly recommended to those who know how to read it, and
+how to make the good uses of it which the story all along recommends to them,
+so it is to be hoped that such readers will be more pleased with the moral than
+the fable, with the application than with the relation, and with the end of the
+writer than with the life of the person written of.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+There is in this story abundance of delightful incidents, and all of them
+usefully applied. There is an agreeable turn artfully given them in the
+relating, that naturally instructs the reader, either one way or other. The
+first part of her lewd life with the young gentleman at Colchester has so many
+happy turns given it to expose the crime, and warn all whose circumstances are
+adapted to it, of the ruinous end of such things, and the foolish, thoughtless,
+and abhorred conduct of both the parties, that it abundantly atones for all the
+lively description she gives of her folly and wickedness.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+The repentance of her lover at the Bath, and how brought by the just alarm of
+his fit of sickness to abandon her; the just caution given there against even
+the lawful intimacies of the dearest friends, and how unable they are to
+preserve the most solemn resolutions of virtue without divine assistance; these
+are parts which, to a just discernment, will appear to have more real beauty in
+them, than all the amorous chain of story which introduces it.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+In a word, as the whole relation is carefully garbled of all the levity and
+looseness that was in it, so it all applied, and with the utmost care, to
+virtuous and religious uses. None can, without being guilty of manifest
+injustice, cast any reproach upon it, or upon our design in publishing it.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+The advocates for the stage have, in all ages, made this the great argument to
+persuade people that their plays are useful, and that they ought to be allowed
+in the most civilised and in the most religious government; namely, that they
+are applied to virtuous purposes, and that by the most lively representations,
+they fail not to recommend virtue and generous principles, and to discourage
+and expose all sorts of vice and corruption of manners; and were it true that
+they did so, and that they constantly adhered to that rule, as the test of
+their acting on the theatre, much might be said in their favour.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Throughout the infinite variety of this book, this fundamental is most strictly
+adhered to; there is not a wicked action in any part of it, but is first and
+last rendered unhappy and unfortunate; there is not a superlative villain
+brought upon the stage, but either he is brought to an unhappy end, or brought
+to be a penitent; there is not an ill thing mentioned but it is condemned, even
+in the relation, nor a virtuous, just thing but it carries its praise along
+with it. What can more exactly answer the rule laid down, to recommend even
+those representations of things which have so many other just objections
+leaving against them? namely, of example, of bad company, obscene language, and
+the like.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Upon this foundation this book is recommended to the reader as a work from
+every part of which something may be learned, and some just and religious
+inference is drawn, by which the reader will have something of instruction, if
+he pleases to make use of it.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+All the exploits of this lady of fame, in her depredations upon mankind, stand
+as so many warnings to honest people to beware of them, intimating to them by
+what methods innocent people are drawn in, plundered and robbed, and by
+consequence how to avoid them. Her robbing a little innocent child, dressed
+fine by the vanity of the mother, to go to the dancing-school, is a good
+memento to such people hereafter, as is likewise her picking the gold watch
+from the young lady&rsquo;s side in the Park.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Her getting a parcel from a hare-brained wench at the coaches in St. John
+Street; her booty made at the fire, and again at Harwich, all give us excellent
+warnings in such cases to be more present to ourselves in sudden surprises of
+every sort.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Her application to a sober life and industrious management at last in Virginia,
+with her transported spouse, is a story fruitful of instruction to all the
+unfortunate creatures who are obliged to seek their re-establishment abroad,
+whether by the misery of transportation or other disaster; letting them know
+that diligence and application have their due encouragement, even in the
+remotest parts of the world, and that no case can be so low, so despicable, or
+so empty of prospect, but that an unwearied industry will go a great way to
+deliver us from it, will in time raise the meanest creature to appear again in
+the world, and give him a new case for his life.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+There are a few of the serious inferences which we are led by the hand to in
+this book, and these are fully sufficient to justify any man in recommending it
+to the world, and much more to justify the publication of it.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+There are two of the most beautiful parts still behind, which this story gives
+some idea of, and lets us into the parts of them, but they are either of them
+too long to be brought into the same volume, and indeed are, as I may call
+them, whole volumes of themselves, viz.: 1. The life of her governess, as she
+calls her, who had run through, it seems, in a few years, all the eminent
+degrees of a gentlewoman, a whore, and a bawd; a midwife and a midwife-keeper,
+as they are called; a pawnbroker, a childtaker, a receiver of thieves, and of
+thieves&rsquo; purchase, that is to say, of stolen goods; and in a word,
+herself a thief, a breeder up of thieves and the like, and yet at last a
+penitent.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+The second is the life of her transported husband, a highwayman, who it seems,
+lived a twelve years&rsquo; life of successful villainy upon the road, and even
+at last came off so well as to be a volunteer transport, not a convict; and in
+whose life there is an incredible variety.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+But, as I have said, these are things too long to bring in here, so neither can
+I make a promise of the coming out by themselves.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+We cannot say, indeed, that this history is carried on quite to the end of the
+life of this famous Moll Flanders, as she calls herself, for nobody can write
+their own life to the full end of it, unless they can write it after they are
+dead. But her husband&rsquo;s life, being written by a third hand, gives a full
+account of them both, how long they lived together in that country, and how
+they both came to England again, after about eight years, in which time they
+were grown very rich, and where she lived, it seems, to be very old, but was
+not so extraordinary a penitent as she was at first; it seems only that indeed
+she always spoke with abhorrence of her former life, and of every part of it.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+In her last scene, at Maryland and Virginia, many pleasant things happened,
+which makes that part of her life very agreeable, but they are not told with
+the same elegancy as those accounted for by herself; so it is still to the more
+advantage that we break off here.
+</p>
+
+<hr />
+
+</div><!--end chapter-->
+
+<div class="chapter">
+
+<h3> MOLL FLANDERS </h3>
+
+<p>
+My true name is so well known in the records or registers at Newgate, and in
+the Old Bailey, and there are some things of such consequence still depending
+there, relating to my particular conduct, that it is not be expected I should
+set my name or the account of my family to this work; perhaps, after my death,
+it may be better known; at present it would not be proper, no not though a
+general pardon should be issued, even without exceptions and reserve of persons
+or crimes.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+It is enough to tell you, that as some of my worst comrades, who are out of the
+way of doing me harm (having gone out of the world by the steps and the string,
+as I often expected to go), knew me by the name of Moll Flanders, so you may
+give me leave to speak of myself under that name till I dare own who I have
+been, as well as who I am.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+I have been told that in one of our neighbour nations, whether it be in France or
+where else I know not, they have an order from the king, that when any criminal
+is condemned, either to die, or to the galleys, or to be transported, if they
+leave any children, as such are generally unprovided for, by the poverty or
+forfeiture of their parents, so they are immediately taken into the care of the
+Government, and put into a hospital called the House of Orphans, where they are
+bred up, clothed, fed, taught, and when fit to go out, are placed out to trades
+or to services, so as to be well able to provide for themselves by an honest,
+industrious behaviour.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Had this been the custom in our country, I had not been left a poor desolate
+girl without friends, without clothes, without help or helper in the world, as
+was my fate; and by which I was not only exposed to very great distresses, even
+before I was capable either of understanding my case or how to amend it, but
+brought into a course of life which was not only scandalous in itself, but
+which in its ordinary course tended to the swift destruction both of soul and
+body.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+But the case was otherwise here. My mother was convicted of felony for a
+certain petty theft scarce worth naming, viz. having an opportunity of
+borrowing three pieces of fine holland of a certain draper in Cheapside. The
+circumstances are too long to repeat, and I have heard them related so many
+ways, that I can scarce be certain which is the right account.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+However it was, this they all agree in, that my mother pleaded her belly, and
+being found quick with child, she was respited for about seven months; in which
+time having brought me into the world, and being about again, she was called
+down, as they term it, to her former judgment, but obtained the favour of being
+transported to the plantations, and left me about half a year old; and in bad
+hands, you may be sure.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+This is too near the first hours of my life for me to relate anything of myself
+but by hearsay; it is enough to mention, that as I was born in such an unhappy
+place, I had no parish to have recourse to for my nourishment in my infancy;
+nor can I give the least account how I was kept alive, other than that, as I
+have been told, some relation of my mother&rsquo;s took me away for a while as
+a nurse, but at whose expense, or by whose direction, I know nothing at all of
+it.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+The first account that I can recollect, or could ever learn of myself, was that
+I had wandered among a crew of those people they call gypsies, or Egyptians;
+but I believe it was but a very little while that I had been among them, for I
+had not had my skin discoloured or blackened, as they do very young to all the
+children they carry about with them; nor can I tell how I came among them, or
+how I got from them.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+It was at Colchester, in Essex, that those people left me; and I have a notion
+in my head that I left them there (that is, that I hid myself and would not go
+any farther with them), but I am not able to be particular in that account;
+only this I remember, that being taken up by some of the parish officers of
+Colchester, I gave an account that I came into the town with the gypsies, but
+that I would not go any farther with them, and that so they had left me, but
+whither they were gone that I knew not, nor could they expect it of me; for
+though they send round the country to inquire after them, it seems they could
+not be found.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+I was now in a way to be provided for; for though I was not a parish charge
+upon this or that part of the town by law, yet as my case came to be known, and
+that I was too young to do any work, being not above three years old,
+compassion moved the magistrates of the town to order some care to be taken of
+me, and I became one of their own as much as if I had been born in the place.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+In the provision they made for me, it was my good hap to be put to nurse, as
+they call it, to a woman who was indeed poor but had been in better
+circumstances, and who got a little livelihood by taking such as I was supposed
+to be, and keeping them with all necessaries, till they were at a certain age,
+in which it might be supposed they might go to service or get their own bread.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+This woman had also had a little school, which she kept to teach children to
+read and to work; and having, as I have said, lived before that in good
+fashion, she bred up the children she took with a great deal of art, as well as
+with a great deal of care.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+But that which was worth all the rest, she bred them up very religiously, being
+herself a very sober, pious woman, very house-wifely and clean, and very
+mannerly, and with good behaviour. So that in a word, expecting a plain diet,
+coarse lodging, and mean clothes, we were brought up as mannerly and as
+genteelly as if we had been at the dancing-school.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+I was continued here till I was eight years old, when I was terrified with news
+that the magistrates (as I think they called them) had ordered that I should go
+to service. I was able to do but very little service wherever I was to go,
+except it was to run of errands and be a drudge to some cookmaid, and this they
+told me of often, which put me into a great fright; for I had a thorough
+aversion to going to service, as they called it (that is, to be a servant),
+though I was so young; and I told my nurse, as we called her, that I believed I
+could get my living without going to service, if she pleased to let me; for she
+had taught me to work with my needle, and spin worsted, which is the chief
+trade of that city, and I told her that if she would keep me, I would work for
+her, and I would work very hard.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+I talked to her almost every day of working hard; and, in short, I did nothing
+but work and cry all day, which grieved the good, kind woman so much, that at
+last she began to be concerned for me, for she loved me very well.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+One day after this, as she came into the room where all we poor children were
+at work, she sat down just over against me, not in her usual place as mistress,
+but as if she set herself on purpose to observe me and see me work. I was doing
+something she had set me to; as I remember, it was marking some shirts which
+she had taken to make, and after a while she began to talk to me. &ldquo;Thou
+foolish child,&rdquo; says she, &ldquo;thou art always crying&rdquo; (for I was crying
+then); &ldquo;prithee, what dost cry for?&rdquo; &ldquo;Because they will take
+me away,&rdquo; says I, &ldquo;and put me to service, and I can&rsquo;t work
+housework.&rdquo; &ldquo;Well, child,&rdquo; says she, &ldquo;but though you
+can&rsquo;t work housework, as you call it, you will learn it in time, and they
+won&rsquo;t put you to hard things at first.&rdquo; &ldquo;Yes, they
+will,&rdquo; says I, &ldquo;and if I can&rsquo;t do it they will beat me, and
+the maids will beat me to make me do great work, and I am but a little girl and
+I can&rsquo;t do it&rdquo;; and then I cried again, till I could not speak any
+more to her.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+This moved my good motherly nurse, so that she from that time resolved I should
+not go to service yet; so she bid me not cry, and she would speak to Mr. Mayor,
+and I should not go to service till I was bigger.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Well, this did not satisfy me, for to think of going to service was such a
+frightful thing to me, that if she had assured me I should not have gone till I
+was twenty years old, it would have been the same to me; I should have cried, I
+believe, all the time, with the very apprehension of its being to be so at
+last.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+When she saw that I was not pacified yet, she began to be angry with me.
+&ldquo;And what would you have?&rdquo; says she; &ldquo;don&rsquo;t I tell you
+that you shall not go to service till your are bigger?&rdquo; &ldquo;Ay,&rdquo;
+said I, &ldquo;but then I must go at last.&rdquo; &ldquo;Why, what?&rdquo; said
+she; &ldquo;is the girl mad? What would you be&mdash;a gentlewoman?&rdquo;
+&ldquo;Yes,&rdquo; says I, and cried heartily till I roared out again.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+This set the old gentlewoman a-laughing at me, as you may be sure it would.
+&ldquo;Well, madam, forsooth,&rdquo; says she, gibing at me, &ldquo;you would
+be a gentlewoman; and pray how will you come to be a gentlewoman? What! will
+you do it by your fingers&rsquo; end?&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;Yes,&rdquo; says I again, very innocently.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;Why, what can you earn?&rdquo; says she; &ldquo;what can you get at your
+work?&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;Threepence,&rdquo; said I, &ldquo;when I spin, and fourpence when I work
+plain work.&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;Alas! poor gentlewoman,&rdquo; said she again, laughing, &ldquo;what
+will that do for thee?&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;It will keep me,&rdquo; says I, &ldquo;if you will let me live with
+you.&rdquo; And this I said in such a poor petitioning tone, that it made the
+poor woman&rsquo;s heart yearn to me, as she told me afterwards.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;But,&rdquo; says she, &ldquo;that will not keep you and buy you clothes
+too; and who must buy the little gentlewoman clothes?&rdquo; says she, and
+smiled all the while at me.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;I will work harder, then,&rdquo; says I, &ldquo;and you shall have it
+all.&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;Poor child! it won&rsquo;t keep you,&rdquo; says she; &ldquo;it will
+hardly keep you in victuals.&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;Then I will have no victuals,&rdquo; says I, again very innocently;
+&ldquo;let me but live with you.&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;Why, can you live without victuals?&rdquo; says she.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;Yes,&rdquo; again says I, very much like a child, you may be sure, and
+still I cried heartily.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+I had no policy in all this; you may easily see it was all nature; but it was
+joined with so much innocence and so much passion that, in short, it set the
+good motherly creature a-weeping too, and she cried at last as fast as I did,
+and then took me and led me out of the teaching-room. &ldquo;Come,&rdquo; says
+she, &ldquo;you shan&rsquo;t go to service; you shall live with me&rdquo;; and
+this pacified me for the present.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Some time after this, she going to wait on the Mayor, and talking of such
+things as belonged to her business, at last my story came up, and my good nurse
+told Mr. Mayor the whole tale. He was so pleased with it, that he would call
+his lady and his two daughters to hear it, and it made mirth enough among them,
+you may be sure.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+However, not a week had passed over, but on a sudden comes Mrs. Mayoress and
+her two daughters to the house to see my old nurse, and to see her school and
+the children. When they had looked about them a little, &ldquo;Well, Mrs.
+&mdash;&mdash;,&rdquo; says the Mayoress to my nurse, &ldquo;and pray which is
+the little lass that intends to be a gentlewoman?&rdquo; I heard her, and I was
+terribly frighted at first, though I did not know why neither; but Mrs.
+Mayoress comes up to me. &ldquo;Well, miss,&rdquo; says she, &ldquo;and what
+are you at work upon?&rdquo; The word miss was a language that had hardly been
+heard of in our school, and I wondered what sad name it was she called me.
+However, I stood up, made a curtsy, and she took my work out of my hand, looked
+on it, and said it was very well; then she took up one of the hands.
+&ldquo;Nay,&rdquo; says she, &ldquo;the child may come to be a gentlewoman for
+aught anybody knows; she has a gentlewoman&rsquo;s hand,&rdquo; says she. This
+pleased me mightily, you may be sure; but Mrs. Mayoress did not stop there, but
+giving me my work again, she put her hand in her pocket, gave me a shilling,
+and bid me mind my work, and learn to work well, and I might be a gentlewoman
+for aught she knew.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Now all this while my good old nurse, Mrs. Mayoress, and all the rest of them
+did not understand me at all, for they meant one sort of thing by the word
+gentlewoman, and I meant quite another; for alas! all I understood by being a
+gentlewoman was to be able to work for myself, and get enough to keep me
+without that terrible bugbear going to service, whereas they meant to live
+great, rich and high, and I know not what.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Well, after Mrs. Mayoress was gone, her two daughters came in, and they called
+for the gentlewoman too, and they talked a long while to me, and I answered
+them in my innocent way; but always, if they asked me whether I resolved to be
+a gentlewoman, I answered Yes. At last one of them asked me what a gentlewoman
+was? That puzzled me much; but, however, I explained myself negatively, that it
+was one that did not go to service, to do housework. They were pleased to be
+familiar with me, and like my little prattle to them, which, it seems, was
+agreeable enough to them, and they gave me money too.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+As for my money, I gave it all to my mistress-nurse, as I called her, and told
+her she should have all I got for myself when I was a gentlewoman, as well as
+now. By this and some other of my talk, my old tutoress began to understand me
+about what I meant by being a gentlewoman, and that I understood by it no more
+than to be able to get my bread by my own work; and at last she asked me
+whether it was not so.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+I told her, yes, and insisted on it, that to do so was to be a gentlewoman;
+&ldquo;for,&rdquo; says I, &ldquo;there is such a one,&rdquo; naming a woman
+that mended lace and washed the ladies&rsquo; laced-heads; &ldquo;she,&rdquo;
+says I, &ldquo;is a gentlewoman, and they call her madam.&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;Poor child,&rdquo; says my good old nurse, &ldquo;you may soon be such a
+gentlewoman as that, for she is a person of ill fame, and has had two or three
+bastards.&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+I did not understand anything of that; but I answered, &ldquo;I am sure they
+call her madam, and she does not go to service nor do housework&rdquo;; and
+therefore I insisted that she was a gentlewoman, and I would be such a
+gentlewoman as that.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+The ladies were told all this again, to be sure, and they made themselves merry
+with it, and every now and then the young ladies, Mr. Mayor&rsquo;s daughters,
+would come and see me, and ask where the little gentlewoman was, which made me
+not a little proud of myself.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+This held a great while, and I was often visited by these young ladies, and
+sometimes they brought others with them; so that I was known by it almost all
+over the town.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+I was now about ten years old, and began to look a little womanish, for I was
+mighty grave and humble, very mannerly, and as I had often heard the ladies say
+I was pretty, and would be a very handsome woman, so you may be sure that
+hearing them say so made me not a little proud. However, that pride had no ill
+effect upon me yet; only, as they often gave me money, and I gave it to my old
+nurse, she, honest woman, was so just to me as to lay it all out again for me,
+and gave me head-dresses, and linen, and gloves, and ribbons, and I went very
+neat, and always clean; for that I would do, and if I had rags on, I would
+always be clean, or else I would dabble them in water myself; but, I say, my
+good nurse, when I had money given me, very honestly laid it out for me, and
+would always tell the ladies this or that was bought with their money; and this
+made them oftentimes give me more, till at last I was indeed called upon by the
+magistrates, as I understood it, to go out to service; but then I was come to
+be so good a workwoman myself, and the ladies were so kind to me, that it was
+plain I could maintain myself&mdash;that is to say, I could earn as much for my
+nurse as she was able by it to keep me&mdash;so she told them that if they
+would give her leave, she would keep the gentlewoman, as she called me, to be
+her assistant and teach the children, which I was very well able to do; for I
+was very nimble at my work, and had a good hand with my needle, though I was
+yet very young.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+But the kindness of the ladies of the town did not end here, for when they came
+to understand that I was no more maintained by the public allowance as before,
+they gave me money oftener than formerly; and as I grew up they brought me work
+to do for them, such as linen to make, and laces to mend, and heads to dress
+up, and not only paid me for doing them, but even taught me how to do them; so
+that now I was a gentlewoman indeed, as I understood that word, I not only
+found myself clothes and paid my nurse for my keeping, but got money in my
+pocket too beforehand.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+The ladies also gave me clothes frequently of their own or their
+children&rsquo;s; some stockings, some petticoats, some gowns, some one thing,
+some another, and these my old woman managed for me like a mere mother, and
+kept them for me, obliged me to mend them, and turn them and twist them to the
+best advantage, for she was a rare housewife.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+At last one of the ladies took so much fancy to me that she would have me home
+to her house, for a month, she said, to be among her daughters.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Now, though this was exceeding kind in her, yet, as my old good woman said to
+her, unless she resolved to keep me for good and all, she would do the little
+gentlewoman more harm than good. &ldquo;Well,&rdquo; says the lady,
+&ldquo;that&rsquo;s true; and therefore I&rsquo;ll only take her home for a
+week, then, that I may see how my daughters and she agree together, and how I
+like her temper, and then I&rsquo;ll tell you more; and in the meantime, if
+anybody comes to see her as they used to do, you may only tell them you have
+sent her out to my house.&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+This was prudently managed enough, and I went to the lady&rsquo;s house; but I
+was so pleased there with the young ladies, and they so pleased with me, that I
+had enough to do to come away, and they were as unwilling to part with me.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+However, I did come away, and lived almost a year more with my honest old
+woman, and began now to be very helpful to her; for I was almost fourteen years
+old, was tall of my age, and looked a little womanish; but I had such a taste
+of genteel living at the lady&rsquo;s house that I was not so easy in my old
+quarters as I used to be, and I thought it was fine to be a gentlewoman indeed,
+for I had quite other notions of a gentlewoman now than I had before; and as I
+thought, I say, that it was fine to be a gentlewoman, so I loved to be among
+gentlewomen, and therefore I longed to be there again.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+About the time that I was fourteen years and a quarter old, my good nurse,
+mother I rather to call her, fell sick and died. I was then in a sad condition
+indeed, for as there is no great bustle in putting an end to a poor
+body&rsquo;s family when once they are carried to the grave, so the poor good
+woman being buried, the parish children she kept were immediately removed by
+the church-wardens; the school was at an end, and the children of it had no
+more to do but just stay at home till they were sent somewhere else; and as for
+what she left, her daughter, a married woman with six or seven children, came
+and swept it all away at once, and removing the goods, they had no more to say
+to me than to jest with me, and tell me that the little gentlewoman might set
+up for herself if she pleased.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+I was frighted out of my wits almost, and knew not what to do, for I was, as it
+were, turned out of doors to the wide world, and that which was still worse,
+the old honest woman had two-and-twenty shillings of mine in her hand, which
+was all the estate the little gentlewoman had in the world; and when I asked
+the daughter for it, she huffed me and laughed at me, and told me she had
+nothing to do with it.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+It was true the good, poor woman had told her daughter of it, and that it lay
+in such a place, that it was the child&rsquo;s money, and had called once or
+twice for me to give it me, but I was, unhappily, out of the way somewhere or
+other, and when I came back she was past being in a condition to speak of it.
+However, the daughter was so honest afterwards as to give it me, though at
+first she used me cruelly about it.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Now was I a poor gentlewoman indeed, and I was just that very night to be
+turned into the wide world; for the daughter removed all the goods, and I had
+not so much as a lodging to go to, or a bit of bread to eat. But it seems some
+of the neighbours, who had known my circumstances, took so much compassion of
+me as to acquaint the lady in whose family I had been a week, as I mentioned
+above; and immediately she sent her maid to fetch me away, and two of her
+daughters came with the maid though unsent. So I went with them, bag and
+baggage, and with a glad heart, you may be sure. The fright of my condition had
+made such an impression upon me, that I did not want now to be a gentlewoman,
+but was very willing to be a servant, and that any kind of servant they thought
+fit to have me be.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+But my new generous mistress, for she exceeded the good woman I was with
+before, in everything, as well as in the matter of estate; I say, in everything
+except honesty; and for that, though this was a lady most exactly just, yet I
+must not forget to say on all occasions, that the first, though poor, was as
+uprightly honest as it was possible for any one to be.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+I was no sooner carried away, as I have said, by this good gentlewoman, but the
+first lady, that is to say, the Mayoress that was, sent her two daughters to
+take care of me; and another family which had taken notice of me when I was the
+little gentlewoman, and had given me work to do, sent for me after her, so that
+I was mightily made of, as we say; nay, and they were not a little angry,
+especially madam the Mayoress, that her friend had taken me away from her, as
+she called it; for, as she said, I was hers by right, she having been the first
+that took any notice of me. But they that had me would not part with me; and as
+for me, though I should have been very well treated with any of the others, yet
+I could not be better than where I was.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Here I continued till I was between seventeen and eighteen years old, and here
+I had all the advantages for my education that could be imagined; the lady had
+masters home to the house to teach her daughters to dance, and to speak French,
+and to write, and other to teach them music; and I was always with them, I
+learned as fast as they; and though the masters were not appointed to teach me,
+yet I learned by imitation and inquiry all that they learned by instruction and
+direction; so that, in short, I learned to dance and speak French as well as
+any of them, and to sing much better, for I had a better voice than any of
+them. I could not so readily come at playing on the harpsichord or spinet,
+because I had no instrument of my own to practice on, and could only come at
+theirs in the intervals when they left it, which was uncertain; but yet I
+learned tolerably well too, and the young ladies at length got two instruments,
+that is to say, a harpsichord and a spinet too, and then they taught me
+themselves. But as to dancing, they could hardly help my learning
+country-dances, because they always wanted me to make up even number; and, on
+the other hand, they were as heartily willing to learn me everything that they
+had been taught themselves, as I could be to take the learning.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+By this means I had, as I have said above, all the advantages of education that
+I could have had if I had been as much a gentlewoman as they were with whom I
+lived; and in some things I had the advantage of my ladies, though they were my
+superiors; but they were all the gifts of nature, and which all their fortunes
+could not furnish. First, I was apparently handsomer than any of them;
+secondly, I was better shaped; and, thirdly, I sang better, by which I mean I
+had a better voice; in all which you will, I hope, allow me to say, I do not
+speak my own conceit of myself, but the opinion of all that knew the family.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+I had with all these the common vanity of my sex, viz. that being really taken
+for very handsome, or, if you please, for a great beauty, I very well knew it,
+and had as good an opinion of myself as anybody else could have of me; and
+particularly I loved to hear anybody speak of it, which could not but happen to
+me sometimes, and was a great satisfaction to me.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Thus far I have had a smooth story to tell of myself, and in all this part of
+my life I not only had the reputation of living in a very good family, and a
+family noted and respected everywhere for virtue and sobriety, and for every
+valuable thing; but I had the character too of a very sober, modest, and
+virtuous young woman, and such I had always been; neither had I yet any
+occasion to think of anything else, or to know what a temptation to wickedness
+meant.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+But that which I was too vain of was my ruin, or rather my vanity was the cause
+of it. The lady in the house where I was had two sons, young gentlemen of very
+promising parts and of extraordinary behaviour, and it was my misfortune to be
+very well with them both, but they managed themselves with me in a quite
+different manner.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+The eldest, a gay gentleman that knew the town as well as the country, and
+though he had levity enough to do an ill-natured thing, yet had too much
+judgment of things to pay too dear for his pleasures; he began with the unhappy
+snare to all women, viz. taking notice upon all occasions how pretty I was, as
+he called it, how agreeable, how well-carriaged, and the like; and this he
+contrived so subtly, as if he had known as well how to catch a woman in his net
+as a partridge when he went a-setting; for he would contrive to be talking this
+to his sisters when, though I was not by, yet when he knew I was not far off
+but that I should be sure to hear him. His sisters would return softly to him,
+&ldquo;Hush, brother, she will hear you; she is but in the next room.&rdquo;
+Then he would put it off and talk softlier, as if he had not known it, and
+begin to acknowledge he was wrong; and then, as if he had forgot himself, he
+would speak aloud again, and I, that was so well pleased to hear it, was sure
+to listen for it upon all occasions.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+After he had thus baited his hook, and found easily enough the method how to
+lay it in my way, he played an opener game; and one day, going by his
+sister&rsquo;s chamber when I was there, doing something about dressing her, he
+comes in with an air of gaiety. &ldquo;Oh, Mrs. Betty,&rdquo; said he to me,
+&ldquo;how do you do, Mrs. Betty? Don&rsquo;t your cheeks burn, Mrs.
+Betty?&rdquo; I made a curtsy and blushed, but said nothing. &ldquo;What makes
+you talk so, brother?&rdquo; says the lady. &ldquo;Why,&rdquo; says he,
+&ldquo;we have been talking of her below-stairs this half-hour.&rdquo;
+&ldquo;Well,&rdquo; says his sister, &ldquo;you can say no harm of her, that I
+am sure, so &rsquo;tis no matter what you have been talking about.&rdquo;
+&ldquo;Nay,&rdquo; says he, &ldquo;&rsquo;tis so far from talking harm of her,
+that we have been talking a great deal of good, and a great many fine things
+have been said of Mrs. Betty, I assure you; and particularly, that she is the
+handsomest young woman in Colchester; and, in short, they begin to toast her
+health in the town.&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;I wonder at you, brother,&rdquo; says the sister. &ldquo;Betty wants but
+one thing, but she had as good want everything, for the market is against our
+sex just now; and if a young woman have beauty, birth, breeding, wit, sense,
+manners, modesty, and all these to an extreme, yet if she have not money,
+she&rsquo;s nobody, she had as good want them all for nothing but money now
+recommends a woman; the men play the game all into their own hands.&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Her younger brother, who was by, cried, &ldquo;Hold, sister, you run too fast;
+I am an exception to your rule. I assure you, if I find a woman so accomplished
+as you talk of, I say, I assure you, I would not trouble myself about the
+money.&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;Oh,&rdquo; says the sister, &ldquo;but you will take care not to fancy
+one, then, without the money.&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;You don&rsquo;t know that neither,&rdquo; says the brother.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;But why, sister,&rdquo; says the elder brother, &ldquo;why do you
+exclaim so at the men for aiming so much at the fortune? You are none of them
+that want a fortune, whatever else you want.&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;I understand you, brother,&rdquo; replies the lady very smartly;
+&ldquo;you suppose I have the money, and want the beauty; but as times go now,
+the first will do without the last, so I have the better of my
+neighbours.&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;Well,&rdquo; says the younger brother, &ldquo;but your neighbours, as
+you call them, may be even with you, for beauty will steal a husband sometimes
+in spite of money, and when the maid chances to be handsomer than the mistress,
+she oftentimes makes as good a market, and rides in a coach before her.&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+I thought it was time for me to withdraw and leave them, and I did so, but not
+so far but that I heard all their discourse, in which I heard abundance of the
+fine things said of myself, which served to prompt my vanity, but, as I soon
+found, was not the way to increase my interest in the family, for the sister
+and the younger brother fell grievously out about it; and as he said some very
+disobliging things to her upon my account, so I could easily see that she
+resented them by her future conduct to me, which indeed was very unjust to me,
+for I had never had the least thought of what she suspected as to her younger
+brother; indeed, the elder brother, in his distant, remote way, had said a
+great many things as in jest, which I had the folly to believe were in earnest,
+or to flatter myself with the hopes of what I ought to have supposed he never
+intended, and perhaps never thought of.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+It happened one day that he came running upstairs, towards the room where his
+sisters used to sit and work, as he often used to do; and calling to them
+before he came in, as was his way too, I, being there alone, stepped to the
+door, and said, &ldquo;Sir, the ladies are not here, they are walked down the
+garden.&rdquo; As I stepped forward to say this, towards the door, he was just
+got to the door, and clasping me in his arms, as if it had been by chance,
+&ldquo;Oh, Mrs. Betty,&rdquo; says he, &ldquo;are you here? That&rsquo;s better
+still; I want to speak with you more than I do with them&rdquo;; and then,
+having me in his arms, he kissed me three or four times.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+I struggled to get away, and yet did it but faintly neither, and he held me
+fast, and still kissed me, till he was almost out of breath, and then, sitting
+down, says, &ldquo;Dear Betty, I am in love with you.&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+His words, I must confess, fired my blood; all my spirits flew about my heart
+and put me into disorder enough, which he might easily have seen in my face. He
+repeated it afterwards several times, that he was in love with me, and my heart
+spoke as plain as a voice, that I liked it; nay, whenever he said, &ldquo;I am
+in love with you,&rdquo; my blushes plainly replied, &ldquo;Would you were,
+sir.&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+However, nothing else passed at that time; it was but a surprise, and when he
+was gone I soon recovered myself again. He had stayed longer with me, but he
+happened to look out at the window and see his sisters coming up the garden, so
+he took his leave, kissed me again, told me he was very serious, and I should
+hear more of him very quickly, and away he went, leaving me infinitely pleased,
+though surprised; and had there not been one misfortune in it, I had been in
+the right, but the mistake lay here, that Mrs. Betty was in earnest and the
+gentleman was not.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+From this time my head ran upon strange things, and I may truly say I was not
+myself; to have such a gentleman talk to me of being in love with me, and of my
+being such a charming creature, as he told me I was; these were things I knew
+not how to bear, my vanity was elevated to the last degree. It is true I had my
+head full of pride, but, knowing nothing of the wickedness of the times, I had
+not one thought of my own safety or of my virtue about me; and had my young
+master offered it at first sight, he might have taken any liberty he thought
+fit with me; but he did not see his advantage, which was my happiness for that
+time.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+After this attack it was not long but he found an opportunity to catch me
+again, and almost in the same posture; indeed, it had more of design in it on
+his part, though not on my part. It was thus: the young ladies were all gone
+a-visiting with their mother; his brother was out of town; and as for his
+father, he had been in London for a week before. He had so well watched me that
+he knew where I was, though I did not so much as know that he was in the house;
+and he briskly comes up the stairs and, seeing me at work, comes into the room
+to me directly, and began just as he did before, with taking me in his arms,
+and kissing me for almost a quarter of an hour together.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+It was his younger sister&rsquo;s chamber that I was in, and as there was
+nobody in the house but the maids below-stairs, he was, it may be, the ruder;
+in short, he began to be in earnest with me indeed. Perhaps he found me a
+little too easy, for God knows I made no resistance to him while he only held
+me in his arms and kissed me; indeed, I was too well pleased with it to resist
+him much.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+However, as it were, tired with that kind of work, we sat down, and there he
+talked with me a great while; he said he was charmed with me, and that he could
+not rest night or day till he had told me how he was in love with me, and, if I
+was able to love him again, and would make him happy, I should be the saving of
+his life, and many such fine things. I said little to him again, but easily
+discovered that I was a fool, and that I did not in the least perceive what he
+meant.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Then he walked about the room, and taking me by the hand, I walked with him;
+and by and by, taking his advantage, he threw me down upon the bed, and kissed
+me there most violently; but, to give him his due, offered no manner of
+rudeness to me, only kissed a great while. After this he thought he had heard
+somebody come upstairs, so got off from the bed, lifted me up, professing a
+great deal of love for me, but told me it was all an honest affection, and that
+he meant no ill to me; and with that he put five guineas into my hand, and went
+away downstairs.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+I was more confounded with the money than I was before with the love, and began
+to be so elevated that I scarce knew the ground I stood on. I am the more
+particular in this part, that if my story comes to be read by any innocent
+young body, they may learn from it to guard themselves against the mischiefs
+which attend an early knowledge of their own beauty. If a young woman once
+thinks herself handsome, she never doubts the truth of any man that tells her
+he is in love with her; for if she believes herself charming enough to
+captivate him, &rsquo;tis natural to expect the effects of it.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+This young gentleman had fired his inclination as much as he had my vanity,
+and, as if he had found that he had an opportunity and was sorry he did not
+take hold of it, he comes up again in half an hour or thereabouts, and falls to
+work with me again as before, only with a little less introduction.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+And first, when he entered the room, he turned about and shut the door.
+&ldquo;Mrs. Betty,&rdquo; said he, &ldquo;I fancied before somebody was coming
+upstairs, but it was not so; however,&rdquo; adds he, &ldquo;if they find me in
+the room with you, they shan&rsquo;t catch me a-kissing of you.&rdquo; I told
+him I did not know who should be coming upstairs, for I believed there was
+nobody in the house but the cook and the other maid, and they never came up
+those stairs. &ldquo;Well, my dear,&rdquo; says he, &ldquo;&rsquo;tis good to
+be sure, however&rdquo;; and so he sits down, and we began to talk. And now,
+though I was still all on fire with his first visit, and said little, he did as
+it were put words in my mouth, telling me how passionately he loved me, and
+that though he could not mention such a thing till he came to this estate, yet
+he was resolved to make me happy then, and himself too; that is to say, to
+marry me, and abundance of such fine things, which I, poor fool, did not
+understand the drift of, but acted as if there was no such thing as any kind of
+love but that which tended to matrimony; and if he had spoke of that, I had no
+room, as well as no power, to have said no; but we were not come that length
+yet.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+We had not sat long, but he got up, and, stopping my very breath with kisses,
+threw me upon the bed again; but then being both well warmed, he went farther
+with me than decency permits me to mention, nor had it been in my power to have
+denied him at that moment, had he offered much more than he did.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+However, though he took these freedoms with me, it did not go to that which
+they call the last favour, which, to do him justice, he did not attempt; and he
+made that self-denial of his a plea for all his freedoms with me upon other
+occasions after this. When this was over, he stayed but a little while, but he
+put almost a handful of gold in my hand, and left me, making a thousand
+protestations of his passion for me, and of his loving me above all the women
+in the world.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+It will not be strange if I now began to think, but alas! it was but with very
+little solid reflection. I had a most unbounded stock of vanity and pride, and
+but a very little stock of virtue. I did indeed case sometimes with myself what
+young master aimed at, but thought of nothing but the fine words and the gold;
+whether he intended to marry me, or not to marry me, seemed a matter of no
+great consequence to me; nor did my thoughts so much as suggest to me the
+necessity of making any capitulation for myself, till he came to make a kind of
+formal proposal to me, as you shall hear presently.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Thus I gave up myself to a readiness of being ruined without the least concern
+and am a fair memento to all young women whose vanity prevails over their
+virtue. Nothing was ever so stupid on both sides. Had I acted as became me, and
+resisted as virtue and honour require, this gentleman had either desisted his
+attacks, finding no room to expect the accomplishment of his design, or had
+made fair and honourable proposals of marriage; in which case, whoever had
+blamed him, nobody could have blamed me. In short, if he had known me, and how
+easy the trifle he aimed at was to be had, he would have troubled his head no
+farther, but have given me four or five guineas, and have lain with me the next
+time he had come at me. And if I had known his thoughts, and how hard he
+thought I would be to be gained, I might have made my own terms with him; and
+if I had not capitulated for an immediate marriage, I might for a maintenance
+till marriage, and might have had what I would; for he was already rich to
+excess, besides what he had in expectation; but I seemed wholly to have
+abandoned all such thoughts as these, and was taken up only with the pride of
+my beauty, and of being beloved by such a gentleman. As for the gold, I spent
+whole hours in looking upon it; I told the guineas over and over a thousand
+times a day. Never a poor vain creature was so wrapt up with every part of the
+story as I was, not considering what was before me, and how near my ruin was at
+the door; indeed, I think I rather wished for that ruin than studied to avoid
+it.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+In the meantime, however, I was cunning enough not to give the least room to
+any in the family to suspect me, or to imagine that I had the least
+correspondence with this young gentleman. I scarce ever looked towards him in
+public, or answered if he spoke to me when anybody was near us; but for all
+that, we had every now and then a little encounter, where we had room for a
+word or two, and now and then a kiss, but no fair opportunity for the mischief
+intended; and especially considering that he made more circumlocution than, if
+he had known my thoughts, he had occasion for; and the work appearing difficult
+to him, he really made it so.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+But as the devil is an unwearied tempter, so he never fails to find opportunity
+for that wickedness he invites to. It was one evening that I was in the garden,
+with his two younger sisters and himself, and all very innocently merry, when
+he found means to convey a note into my hand, by which he directed me to
+understand that he would to-morrow desire me publicly to go of an errand for
+him into the town, and that I should see him somewhere by the way.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Accordingly, after dinner, he very gravely says to me, his sisters being all
+by, &ldquo;Mrs. Betty, I must ask a favour of you.&rdquo; &ldquo;What&rsquo;s
+that?&rdquo; says his second sister. &ldquo;Nay, sister,&rdquo; says he very
+gravely, &ldquo;if you can&rsquo;t spare Mrs. Betty to-day, any other time will
+do.&rdquo; Yes, they said, they could spare her well enough, and the sister
+begged pardon for asking, which they did but of mere course, without any
+meaning. &ldquo;Well, but, brother,&rdquo; says the eldest sister, &ldquo;you
+must tell Mrs. Betty what it is; if it be any private business that we must not
+hear, you may call her out. There she is.&rdquo; &ldquo;Why, sister,&rdquo;
+says the gentleman very gravely, &ldquo;what do you mean? I only desire her to
+go into the High Street&rdquo; (and then he pulls out a turnover), &ldquo;to
+such a shop&rdquo;; and then he tells them a long story of two fine neckcloths
+he had bid money for, and he wanted to have me go and make an errand to buy a
+neck to the turnover that he showed, to see if they would take my money for the
+neckcloths; to bid a shilling more, and haggle with them; and then he made more
+errands, and so continued to have such petty business to do, that I should be
+sure to stay a good while.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+When he had given me my errands, he told them a long story of a visit he was
+going to make to a family they all knew, and where was to be such-and-such
+gentlemen, and how merry they were to be, and very formally asks his sisters to
+go with him, and they as formally excused themselves, because of company that
+they had notice was to come and visit them that afternoon; which, by the way,
+he had contrived on purpose.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+He had scarce done speaking to them, and giving me my errand, but his man came
+up to tell him that Sir W&mdash;&mdash; H&mdash;&mdash;&rsquo;s coach stopped
+at the door; so he runs down, and comes up again immediately.
+&ldquo;Alas!&rdquo; says he aloud, &ldquo;there&rsquo;s all my mirth spoiled at
+once; sir W&mdash;&mdash; has sent his coach for me, and desires to speak with
+me upon some earnest business.&rdquo; It seems this Sir W&mdash;&mdash; was a
+gentleman who lived about three miles out of town, to whom he had spoken on
+purpose the day before, to lend him his chariot for a particular occasion, and
+had appointed it to call for him, as it did, about three o&rsquo;clock.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Immediately he calls for his best wig, hat, and sword, and ordering his man to
+go to the other place to make his excuse&mdash; that was to say, he made an
+excuse to send his man away&mdash;he prepares to go into the coach. As he was
+going, he stopped a while, and speaks mighty earnestly to me about his
+business, and finds an opportunity to say very softly to me, &ldquo;Come away,
+my dear, as soon as ever you can.&rdquo; I said nothing, but made a curtsy, as
+if I had done so to what he said in public. In about a quarter of an hour I
+went out too; I had no dress other than before, except that I had a hood, a
+mask, a fan, and a pair of gloves in my pocket; so that there was not the least
+suspicion in the house. He waited for me in the coach in a back-lane, which he
+knew I must pass by, and had directed the coachman whither to go, which was to
+a certain place, called Mile End, where lived a confidant of his, where we went
+in, and where was all the convenience in the world to be as wicked as we
+pleased.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+When we were together he began to talk very gravely to me, and to tell me he
+did not bring me there to betray me; that his passion for me would not suffer
+him to abuse me; that he resolved to marry me as soon as he came to his estate;
+that in the meantime, if I would grant his request, he would maintain me very
+honourably; and made me a thousand protestations of his sincerity and of his
+affection to me; and that he would never abandon me, and as I may say, made a
+thousand more preambles than he need to have done.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+However, as he pressed me to speak, I told him I had no reason to question the
+sincerity of his love to me after so many protestations, but&mdash;and there I
+stopped, as if I left him to guess the rest. &ldquo;But what, my dear?&rdquo;
+says he. &ldquo;I guess what you mean: what if you should be with child? Is not
+that it? Why, then,&rdquo; says he, &ldquo;I&rsquo;ll take care of you and
+provide for you, and the child too; and that you may see I am not in
+jest,&rdquo; says he, &ldquo;here&rsquo;s an earnest for you,&rdquo; and with
+that he pulls out a silk purse, with an hundred guineas in it, and gave it me.
+&ldquo;And I&rsquo;ll give you such another,&rdquo; says he, &ldquo;every year
+till I marry you.&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+My colour came and went, at the sight of the purse and with the fire of his
+proposal together, so that I could not say a word, and he easily perceived it;
+so putting the purse into my bosom, I made no more resistance to him, but let
+him do just what he pleased, and as often as he pleased; and thus I finished my
+own destruction at once, for from this day, being forsaken of my virtue and my
+modesty, I had nothing of value left to recommend me, either to God&rsquo;s
+blessing or man&rsquo;s assistance.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+But things did not end here. I went back to the town, did the business he
+publicly directed me to, and was at home before anybody thought me long. As for
+my gentleman, he stayed out, as he told me he would, till late at night, and
+there was not the least suspicion in the family either on his account or on
+mine.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+We had, after this, frequent opportunities to repeat our crime&mdash;chiefly by
+his contrivance&mdash;especially at home, when his mother and the young ladies
+went abroad a-visiting, which he watched so narrowly as never to miss; knowing
+always beforehand when they went out, and then failed not to catch me all
+alone, and securely enough; so that we took our fill of our wicked pleasure for
+near half a year; and yet, which was the most to my satisfaction, I was not
+with child.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+But before this half-year was expired, his younger brother, of whom I have made
+some mention in the beginning of the story, falls to work with me; and he,
+finding me alone in the garden one evening, begins a story of the same kind to
+me, made good honest professions of being in love with me, and in short,
+proposes fairly and honourably to marry me, and that before he made any other
+offer to me at all.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+I was now confounded, and driven to such an extremity as the like was never
+known; at least not to me. I resisted the proposal with obstinacy; and now I
+began to arm myself with arguments. I laid before him the inequality of the
+match; the treatment I should meet with in the family; the ingratitude it would
+be to his good father and mother, who had taken me into their house upon such
+generous principles, and when I was in such a low condition; and, in short, I
+said everything to dissuade him from his design that I could imagine, except
+telling him the truth, which would indeed have put an end to it all, but that I
+durst not think of mentioning.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+But here happened a circumstance that I did not expect indeed, which put me to
+my shifts; for this young gentleman, as he was plain and honest, so he
+pretended to nothing with me but what was so too; and, knowing his own
+innocence, he was not so careful to make his having a kindness for Mrs. Betty a
+secret in the house, as his brother was. And though he did not let them know
+that he had talked to me about it, yet he said enough to let his sisters
+perceive he loved me, and his mother saw it too, which, though they took no
+notice of it to me, yet they did to him, an immediately I found their carriage
+to me altered, more than ever before.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+I saw the cloud, though I did not foresee the storm. It was easy, I say, to see
+that their carriage to me was altered, and that it grew worse and worse every
+day; till at last I got information among the servants that I should, in a very
+little while, be desired to remove.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+I was not alarmed at the news, having a full satisfaction that I should be
+otherwise provided for; and especially considering that I had reason every day
+to expect I should be with child, and that then I should be obliged to remove
+without any pretences for it.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+After some time the younger gentleman took an opportunity to tell me that the
+kindness he had for me had got vent in the family. He did not charge me with
+it, he said, for he know well enough which way it came out. He told me his
+plain way of talking had been the occasion of it, for that he did not make his
+respect for me so much a secret as he might have done, and the reason was, that
+he was at a point, that if I would consent to have him, he would tell them all
+openly that he loved me, and that he intended to marry me; that it was true his
+father and mother might resent it, and be unkind, but that he was now in a way
+to live, being bred to the law, and he did not fear maintaining me agreeable to
+what I should expect; and that, in short, as he believed I would not be ashamed
+of him, so he was resolved not to be ashamed of me, and that he scorned to be
+afraid to own me now, whom he resolved to own after I was his wife, and
+therefore I had nothing to do but to give him my hand, and he would answer for
+all the rest.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+I was now in a dreadful condition indeed, and now I repented heartily my
+easiness with the eldest brother; not from any reflection of conscience, but
+from a view of the happiness I might have enjoyed, and had now made impossible;
+for though I had no great scruples of conscience, as I have said, to struggle
+with, yet I could not think of being a whore to one brother and a wife to the
+other. But then it came into my thoughts that the first brother had promised to
+made me his wife when he came to his estate; but I presently remembered what I
+had often thought of, that he had never spoken a word of having me for a wife
+after he had conquered me for a mistress; and indeed, till now, though I said I
+thought of it often, yet it gave me no disturbance at all, for as he did not
+seem in the least to lessen his affection to me, so neither did he lessen his
+bounty, though he had the discretion himself to desire me not to lay out a
+penny of what he gave me in clothes, or to make the least show extraordinary,
+because it would necessarily give jealousy in the family, since everybody know
+I could come at such things no manner of ordinary way, but by some private
+friendship, which they would presently have suspected.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+But I was now in a great strait, and knew not what to do. The main difficulty
+was this: the younger brother not only laid close siege to me, but suffered it
+to be seen. He would come into his sister&rsquo;s room, and his mother&rsquo;s
+room, and sit down, and talk a thousand kind things of me, and to me, even
+before their faces, and when they were all there. This grew so public that the
+whole house talked of it, and his mother reproved him for it, and their
+carriage to me appeared quite altered. In short, his mother had let fall some
+speeches, as if she intended to put me out of the family; that is, in English,
+to turn me out of doors. Now I was sure this could not be a secret to his
+brother, only that he might not think, as indeed nobody else yet did, that the
+youngest brother had made any proposal to me about it; but as I easily could
+see that it would go farther, so I saw likewise there was an absolute necessity
+to speak of it to him, or that he would speak of it to me, and which to do
+first I knew not; that is, whether I should break it to him or let it alone
+till he should break it to me.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Upon serious consideration, for indeed now I began to consider things very
+seriously, and never till now; I say, upon serious consideration, I resolved to
+tell him of it first; and it was not long before I had an opportunity, for the
+very next day his brother went to London upon some business, and the family
+being out a-visiting, just as it had happened before, and as indeed was often
+the case, he came according to his custom, to spend an hour or two with Mrs.
+Betty.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+When he came and had sat down a while, he easily perceived there was an
+alteration in my countenance, that I was not so free and pleasant with him as I
+used to be, and particularly, that I had been a-crying; he was not long before
+he took notice of it, and asked me in very kind terms what was the matter, and
+if anything troubled me. I would have put it off if I could, but it was not to
+be concealed; so after suffering many importunities to draw that out of me
+which I longed as much as possible to disclose, I told him that it was true
+something did trouble me, and something of such a nature that I could not
+conceal from him, and yet that I could not tell how to tell him of it neither;
+that it was a thing that not only surprised me, but greatly perplexed me, and
+that I knew not what course to take, unless he would direct me. He told me with
+great tenderness, that let it be what it would, I should not let it trouble me,
+for he would protect me from all the world.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+I then began at a distance, and told him I was afraid the ladies had got some
+secret information of our correspondence; for that it was easy to see that
+their conduct was very much changed towards me for a great while, and that now
+it was come to that pass that they frequently found fault with me, and
+sometimes fell quite out with me, though I never gave them the least occasion;
+that whereas I used always to lie with the eldest sister, I was lately put to
+lie by myself, or with one of the maids; and that I had overheard them several
+times talking very unkindly about me; but that which confirmed it all was, that
+one of the servants had told me that she had heard I was to be turned out, and
+that it was not safe for the family that I should be any longer in the house.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+He smiled when he heard all this, and I asked him how he could make so light of
+it, when he must needs know that if there was any discovery I was undone for
+ever, and that even it would hurt him, though not ruin him as it would me. I
+upbraided him, that he was like all the rest of the sex, that, when they had
+the character and honour of a woman at their mercy, oftentimes made it their
+jest, and at least looked upon it as a trifle, and counted the ruin of those
+they had had their will of as a thing of no value.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+He saw me warm and serious, and he changed his style immediately; he told me he
+was sorry I should have such a thought of him; that he had never given me the
+least occasion for it, but had been as tender of my reputation as he could be
+of his own; that he was sure our correspondence had been managed with so much
+address, that not one creature in the family had so much as a suspicion of it;
+that if he smiled when I told him my thoughts, it was at the assurance he
+lately received, that our understanding one another was not so much as known or
+guessed at; and that when he had told me how much reason he had to be easy, I
+should smile as he did, for he was very certain it would give me a full
+satisfaction.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;This is a mystery I cannot understand,&rdquo; says I, &ldquo;or how it
+should be to my satisfaction that I am to be turned out of doors; for if our
+correspondence is not discovered, I know not what else I have done to change
+the countenances of the whole family to me, or to have them treat me as they do
+now, who formerly used me with so much tenderness, as if I had been one of
+their own children.&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;Why, look you, child,&rdquo; says he, &ldquo;that they are uneasy about
+you, that is true; but that they have the least suspicion of the case as it is,
+and as it respects you and I, is so far from being true, that they suspect my
+brother Robin; and, in short, they are fully persuaded he makes love to you;
+nay, the fool has put it into their heads too himself, for he is continually
+bantering them about it, and making a jest of himself. I confess I think he is
+wrong to do so, because he cannot but see it vexes them, and makes them unkind
+to you; but &rsquo;tis a satisfaction to me, because of the assurance it gives
+me, that they do not suspect me in the least, and I hope this will be to your
+satisfaction too.&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;So it is,&rdquo; says I, &ldquo;one way; but this does not reach my case
+at all, nor is this the chief thing that troubles me, though I have been
+concerned about that too.&rdquo; &ldquo;What is it, then?&rdquo; says he. With
+which I fell to tears, and could say nothing to him at all. He strove to pacify
+me all he could, but began at last to be very pressing upon me to tell what it
+was. At last I answered that I thought I ought to tell him too, and that he had
+some right to know it; besides, that I wanted his direction in the case, for I
+was in such perplexity that I knew not what course to take, and then I related
+the whole affair to him. I told him how imprudently his brother had managed
+himself, in making himself so public; for that if he had kept it a secret, as
+such a thing ought to have been, I could but have denied him positively, without
+giving any reason for it, and he would in time have ceased his solicitations;
+but that he had the vanity, first, to depend upon it that I would not deny him,
+and then had taken the freedom to tell his resolution of having me to the whole
+house.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+I told him how far I had resisted him, and told him how sincere and honourable
+his offers were. &ldquo;But,&rdquo; says I, &ldquo;my case will be doubly hard;
+for as they carry it ill to me now, because he desires to have me,
+they&rsquo;ll carry it worse when they shall find I have denied him; and they
+will presently say, there&rsquo;s something else in it, and then out it comes
+that I am married already to somebody else, or that I would never refuse a
+match so much above me as this was.&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+This discourse surprised him indeed very much. He told me that it was a
+critical point indeed for me to manage, and he did not see which way I should
+get out of it; but he would consider it, and let me know next time we met, what
+resolution he was come to about it; and in the meantime desired I would not
+give my consent to his brother, nor yet give him a flat denial, but that I
+would hold him in suspense a while.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+I seemed to start at his saying I should not give him my consent. I told him he
+knew very well I had no consent to give; that he had engaged himself to marry
+me, and that my consent was the same time engaged to him; that he had all along
+told me I was his wife, and I looked upon myself as effectually so as if the
+ceremony had passed; and that it was from his own mouth that I did so, he
+having all along persuaded me to call myself his wife.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;Well, my dear,&rdquo; says he, &ldquo;don&rsquo;t be concerned at that
+now; if I am not your husband, I&rsquo;ll be as good as a husband to you; and
+do not let those things trouble you now, but let me look a little farther into
+this affair, and I shall be able to say more next time we meet.&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+He pacified me as well as he could with this, but I found he was very
+thoughtful, and that though he was very kind to me and kissed me a thousand
+times, and more I believe, and gave me money too, yet he offered no more all
+the while we were together, which was above two hours, and which I much
+wondered at indeed at that time, considering how it used to be, and what
+opportunity we had.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+His brother did not come from London for five or six days, and it was two days
+more before he got an opportunity to talk with him; but then getting him by
+himself he began to talk very close to him about it, and the same evening got
+an opportunity (for we had a long conference together) to repeat all their
+discourse to me, which, as near as I can remember, was to the purpose
+following. He told him he heard strange news of him since he went, viz. that he
+made love to Mrs. Betty. &ldquo;Well,&rdquo; says his brother a little angrily,
+&ldquo;and so I do. And what then? What has anybody to do with that?&rdquo;
+&ldquo;Nay,&rdquo; says his brother, &ldquo;don&rsquo;t be angry, Robin; I
+don&rsquo;t pretend to have anything to do with it; nor do I pretend to be
+angry with you about it. But I find they do concern themselves about it, and
+that they have used the poor girl ill about it, which I should take as done to
+myself.&rdquo; &ldquo;Whom do you mean by <i>they</i>?&rdquo; says Robin.
+&ldquo;I mean my mother and the girls,&rdquo; says the elder brother.
+&ldquo;But hark ye,&rdquo; says his brother, &ldquo;are you in earnest? Do you
+really love this girl? You may be free with me, you know.&rdquo; &ldquo;Why,
+then,&rdquo; says Robin, &ldquo;I will be free with you; I do love her above
+all the women in the world, and I will have her, let them say and do what they
+will. I believe the girl will not deny me.&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+It struck me to the heart when he told me this, for though it was most rational
+to think I would not deny him, yet I knew in my own conscience I must deny him,
+and I saw my ruin in my being obliged to do so; but I knew it was my business
+to talk otherwise then, so I interrupted him in his story thus.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;Ay!&rdquo; said I, &ldquo;does he think I cannot deny him? But he shall
+find I can deny him, for all that.&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;Well, my dear,&rdquo; says he, &ldquo;but let me give you the whole
+story as it went on between us, and then say what you will.&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Then he went on and told me that he replied thus: &ldquo;But, brother, you know
+she has nothing, and you may have several ladies with good fortunes.&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;&rsquo;Tis no matter for that,&rdquo; said Robin; &ldquo;I love the
+girl, and I will never please my pocket in marrying, and not please my
+fancy.&rdquo; &ldquo;And so, my dear,&rdquo; adds he, &ldquo;there is no
+opposing him.&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;Yes, yes,&rdquo; says I, &ldquo;you shall see I can oppose him; I have
+learnt to say No, now though I had not learnt it before; if the best lord in
+the land offered me marriage now, I could very cheerfully say No to him.&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;Well, but, my dear,&rdquo; says he, &ldquo;what can you say to him? You
+know, as you said when we talked of it before, he will ask you many questions
+about it, and all the house will wonder what the meaning of it should
+be.&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;Why,&rdquo; says I, smiling, &ldquo;I can stop all their mouths at one
+clap by telling him, and them too, that I am married already to his elder
+brother.&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+He smiled a little too at the word, but I could see it startled him, and he
+could not hide the disorder it put him into. However, he returned, &ldquo;Why,
+though that may be true in some sense, yet I suppose you are but in jest when
+you talk of giving such an answer as that; it may not be convenient on many
+accounts.&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;No, no,&rdquo; says I pleasantly, &ldquo;I am not so fond of letting the
+secret come out without your consent.&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;But what, then, can you say to him, or to them,&rdquo; says he,
+&ldquo;when they find you positive against a match which would be apparently so
+much to your advantage?&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;Why,&rdquo; says I, &ldquo;should I be at a loss? First of all, I am not
+obliged to give me any reason at all; on the other hand, I may tell them I am
+married already, and stop there, and that will be a full stop too to him, for
+he can have no reason to ask one question after it.&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;Ay,&rdquo; says he; &ldquo;but the whole house will tease you about
+that, even to father and mother, and if you deny them positively, they will be
+disobliged at you, and suspicious besides.&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;Why,&rdquo; says I, &ldquo;what can I do? What would you have me do? I
+was in straight enough before, and as I told you, I was in perplexity before,
+and acquainted you with the circumstances, that I might have your
+advice.&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;My dear,&rdquo; says he, &ldquo;I have been considering very much upon
+it, you may be sure, and though it is a piece of advice that has a great many
+mortifications in it to me, and may at first seem strange to you, yet, all
+things considered, I see no better way for you than to let him go on; and if
+you find him hearty and in earnest, marry him.&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+I gave him a look full of horror at those words, and, turning pale as death,
+was at the very point of sinking down out of the chair I sat in; when, giving a
+start, &ldquo;My dear,&rdquo; says he aloud, &ldquo;what&rsquo;s the matter
+with you? Where are you a-going?&rdquo; and a great many such things; and with
+jogging and called to me, fetched me a little to myself, though it was a good
+while before I fully recovered my senses, and was not able to speak for several
+minutes more.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+When I was fully recovered he began again. &ldquo;My dear,&rdquo; says he,
+&ldquo;what made you so surprised at what I said? I would have you consider
+seriously of it? You may see plainly how the family stand in this case, and
+they would be stark mad if it was my case, as it is my brother&rsquo;s; and for
+aught I see, it would be my ruin and yours too.&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;Ay!&rdquo; says I, still speaking angrily; &ldquo;are all your
+protestations and vows to be shaken by the dislike of the family? Did I not
+always object that to you, and you made light thing of it, as what you were
+above, and would value; and is it come to this now?&rdquo; said I. &ldquo;Is
+this your faith and honour, your love, and the solidity of your
+promises?&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+He continued perfectly calm, notwithstanding all my reproaches, and I was not
+sparing of them at all; but he replied at last, &ldquo;My dear, I have not
+broken one promise with you yet; I did tell you I would marry you when I was
+come to my estate; but you see my father is a hale, healthy man, and may live
+these thirty years still, and not be older than several are round us in town;
+and you never proposed my marrying you sooner, because you knew it might be my
+ruin; and as to all the rest, I have not failed you in anything, you have
+wanted for nothing.&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+I could not deny a word of this, and had nothing to say to it in general.
+&ldquo;But why, then,&rdquo; says I, &ldquo;can you persuade me to such a
+horrid step as leaving you, since you have not left me? Will you allow no
+affection, no love on my side, where there has been so much on your side? Have
+I made you no returns? Have I given no testimony of my sincerity and of my
+passion? Are the sacrifices I have made of honour and modesty to you no proof
+of my being tied to you in bonds too strong to be broken?&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;But here, my dear,&rdquo; says he, &ldquo;you may come into a safe
+station, and appear with honour and with splendour at once, and the remembrance
+of what we have done may be wrapt up in an eternal silence, as if it had never
+happened; you shall always have my respect, and my sincere affection, only then
+it shall be honest, and perfectly just to my brother; you shall be my dear
+sister, as now you are my dear&mdash;&mdash;&rdquo; and there he stopped.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;Your dear whore,&rdquo; says I, &ldquo;you would have said if you had
+gone on, and you might as well have said it; but I understand you. However, I
+desire you to remember the long discourses you have had with me, and the many
+hours&rsquo; pains you have taken to persuade me to believe myself an honest
+woman; that I was your wife intentionally, though not in the eyes of the world,
+and that it was as effectual a marriage that had passed between us as if we had
+been publicly wedded by the parson of the parish. You know and cannot but
+remember that these have been your own words to me.&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+I found this was a little too close upon him, but I made it up in what follows.
+He stood stock-still for a while and said nothing, and I went on thus:
+&ldquo;You cannot,&rdquo; says I, &ldquo;without the highest injustice, believe
+that I yielded upon all these persuasions without a love not to be questioned,
+not to be shaken again by anything that could happen afterward. If you have
+such dishonourable thoughts of me, I must ask you what foundation in any of my
+behaviour have I given for such a suggestion?
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;If, then, I have yielded to the importunities of my affection, and if I
+have been persuaded to believe that I am really, and in the essence of the
+thing, your wife, shall I now give the lie to all those arguments and call
+myself your whore, or mistress, which is the same thing? And will you transfer
+me to your brother? Can you transfer my affection? Can you bid me cease loving
+you, and bid me love him? It is in my power, think you, to make such a change
+at demand? No, sir,&rdquo; said I, &ldquo;depend upon it &rsquo;tis impossible,
+and whatever the change of your side may be, I will ever be true; and I had
+much rather, since it is come that unhappy length, be your whore than your
+brother&rsquo;s wife.&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+He appeared pleased and touched with the impression of this last discourse, and
+told me that he stood where he did before; that he had not been unfaithful to
+me in any one promise he had ever made yet, but that there were so many
+terrible things presented themselves to his view in the affair before me, and
+that on my account in particular, that he had thought of the other as a remedy
+so effectual as nothing could come up to it. That he thought this would not be
+entire parting us, but we might love as friends all our days, and perhaps with
+more satisfaction than we should in the station we were now in, as things might
+happen; that he durst say, I could not apprehend anything from him as to
+betraying a secret, which could not but be the destruction of us both, if it
+came out; that he had but one question to ask of me that could lie in the way
+of it, and if that question was answered in the negative, he could not but
+think still it was the only step I could take.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+I guessed at his question presently, namely, whether I was sure I was not with
+child? As to that, I told him he need not be concerned about it, for I was not
+with child. &ldquo;Why, then, my dear,&rdquo; says he, &ldquo;we have no time
+to talk further now. Consider of it, and think closely about it; I cannot but
+be of the opinion still, that it will be the best course you can take.&rdquo;
+And with this he took his leave, and the more hastily too, his mother and
+sisters ringing at the gate, just at the moment that he had risen up to go.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+He left me in the utmost confusion of thought; and he easily perceived it the
+next day, and all the rest of the week, for it was but Tuesday evening when we
+talked; but he had no opportunity to come at me all that week, till the Sunday
+after, when I, being indisposed, did not go to church, and he, making some
+excuse for the like, stayed at home.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+And now he had me an hour and a half again by myself, and we fell into the same
+arguments all over again, or at least so near the same, as it would be to no
+purpose to repeat them. At last I asked him warmly, what opinion he must have
+of my modesty, that he could suppose I should so much as entertain a thought of
+lying with two brothers, and assured him it could never be. I added, if he was
+to tell me that he would never see me more, than which nothing but death could
+be more terrible, yet I could never entertain a thought so dishonourable to
+myself, and so base to him; and therefore, I entreated him, if he had one grain
+of respect or affection left for me, that he would speak no more of it to me,
+or that he would pull his sword out and kill me. He appeared surprised at my
+obstinacy, as he called it; told me I was unkind to myself, and unkind to him
+in it; that it was a crisis unlooked for upon us both, and impossible for
+either of us to foresee, but that he did not see any other way to save us both
+from ruin, and therefore he thought it the more unkind; but that if he must say
+no more of it to me, he added with an unusual coldness, that he did not know
+anything else we had to talk of; and so he rose up to take his leave. I rose up
+too, as if with the same indifference; but when he came to give me as it were a
+parting kiss, I burst out into such a passion of crying, that though I would
+have spoke, I could not, and only pressing his hand, seemed to give him the
+adieu, but cried vehemently.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+He was sensibly moved with this; so he sat down again, and said a great many
+kind things to me, to abate the excess of my passion, but still urged the
+necessity of what he had proposed; all the while insisting, that if I did
+refuse, he would notwithstanding provide for me; but letting me plainly see
+that he would decline me in the main point&mdash;nay, even as a mistress;
+making it a point of honour not to lie with the woman that, for aught he knew,
+might come to be his brother&rsquo;s wife.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+The bare loss of him as a gallant was not so much my affliction as the loss of
+his person, whom indeed I loved to distraction; and the loss of all the
+expectations I had, and which I always had built my hopes upon, of having him
+one day for my husband. These things oppressed my mind so much, that, in short,
+I fell very ill; the agonies of my mind, in a word, threw me into a high fever,
+and long it was, that none in the family expected my life.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+I was reduced very low indeed, and was often delirious and light-headed; but
+nothing lay so near me as the fear that, when I was light-headed, I should say
+something or other to his prejudice. I was distressed in my mind also to see
+him, and so he was to see me, for he really loved me most passionately; but it
+could not be; there was not the least room to desire it on one side or other,
+or so much as to make it decent.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+It was near five weeks that I kept my bed and though the violence of my fever
+abated in three weeks, yet it several times returned; and the physicians said
+two or three times, they could do no more for me, but that they must leave
+nature and the distemper to fight it out, only strengthening the first with
+cordials to maintain the struggle. After the end of five weeks I grew better,
+but was so weak, so altered, so melancholy, and recovered so slowly, that the
+physicians apprehended I should go into a consumption; and which vexed me most,
+they gave it as their opinion that my mind was oppressed, that something
+troubled me, and, in short, that I was in love. Upon this, the whole house was
+set upon me to examine me, and to press me to tell whether I was in love or
+not, and with whom; but as I well might, I denied my being in love at all.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+They had on this occasion a squabble one day about me at table, that had like
+to have put the whole family in an uproar, and for some time did so. They
+happened to be all at table but the father; as for me, I was ill, and in my
+chamber. At the beginning of the talk, which was just as they had finished
+their dinner, the old gentlewoman, who had sent me somewhat to eat, called her
+maid to go up and ask me if I would have any more; but the maid brought down
+word I had not eaten half what she had sent me already.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;Alas,&rdquo; says the old lady, &ldquo;that poor girl! I am afraid she will
+never be well.&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;Well!&rdquo; says the elder brother, &ldquo;how should Mrs. Betty be
+well? They say she is in love.&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;I believe nothing of it,&rdquo; says the old gentlewoman.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;I don&rsquo;t know,&rdquo; says the eldest sister, &ldquo;what to say to
+it; they have made such a rout about her being so handsome, and so charming,
+and I know not what, and that in her hearing too, that has turned the
+creature&rsquo;s head, I believe, and who knows what possessions may follow
+such doings? For my part, I don&rsquo;t know what to make of it.&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;Why, sister, you must acknowledge she is very handsome,&rdquo; says the
+elder brother.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;Ay, and a great deal handsomer than you, sister,&rdquo; says Robin,
+&ldquo;and that&rsquo;s your mortification.&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;Well, well, that is not the question,&rdquo; says his sister;
+&ldquo;that girl is well enough, and she knows it well enough; she need not be
+told of it to make her vain.&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;We are not talking of her being vain,&rdquo; says the elder brother,
+&ldquo;but of her being in love; it may be she is in love with herself; it
+seems my sisters think so.&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;I would she was in love with me,&rdquo; says Robin; &ldquo;I&rsquo;d
+quickly put her out of her pain.&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;What d&rsquo;ye mean by that, son,&rdquo; says the old lady; &ldquo;how
+can you talk so?&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;Why, madam,&rdquo; says Robin, again, very honestly, &ldquo;do you think
+I&rsquo;d let the poor girl die for love, and of one that is near at hand to be
+had, too?&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;Fie, brother!&rdquo;, says the second sister, &ldquo;how can you talk
+so? Would you take a creature that has not a groat in the world?&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;Prithee, child,&rdquo; says Robin, &ldquo;beauty&rsquo;s a portion, and
+good-humour with it is a double portion; I wish thou hadst half her stock of
+both for thy portion.&rdquo; So there was her mouth stopped.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;I find,&rdquo; says the eldest sister, &ldquo;if Betty is not in love,
+my brother is. I wonder he has not broke his mind to Betty; I warrant she
+won&rsquo;t say No.&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;They that yield when they&rsquo;re asked,&rdquo; says Robin, &ldquo;are
+one step before them that were never asked to yield, sister, and two steps
+before them that yield before they are asked; and that&rsquo;s an answer to
+you, sister.&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+This fired the sister, and she flew into a passion, and said, things were come
+to that pass that it was time the wench, meaning me, was out of the family; and
+but that she was not fit to be turned out, she hoped her father and mother
+would consider of it as soon as she could be removed.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Robin replied, that was business for the master and mistress of the family, who
+where not to be taught by one that had so little judgment as his eldest sister.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+It ran up a great deal farther; the sister scolded, Robin rallied and bantered,
+but poor Betty lost ground by it extremely in the family. I heard of it, and I
+cried heartily, and the old lady came up to me, somebody having told her that I
+was so much concerned about it. I complained to her, that it was very hard the
+doctors should pass such a censure upon me, for which they had no ground; and
+that it was still harder, considering the circumstances I was under in the
+family; that I hoped I had done nothing to lessen her esteem for me, or given
+any occasion for the bickering between her sons and daughters, and I had more
+need to think of a coffin than of being in love, and begged she would not let
+me suffer in her opinion for anybody&rsquo;s mistakes but my own.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+She was sensible of the justice of what I said, but told me, since there had
+been such a clamour among them, and that her younger son talked after such a
+rattling way as he did, she desired I would be so faithful to her as to answer
+her but one question sincerely. I told her I would, with all my heart, and with
+the utmost plainness and sincerity. Why, then, the question was, whether there
+was anything between her son Robert and me. I told her with all the
+protestations of sincerity that I was able to make, and as I might well, do,
+that there was not, nor ever had been; I told her that Mr. Robert had rattled
+and jested, as she knew it was his way, and that I took it always, as I
+supposed he meant it, to be a wild airy way of discourse that had no
+signification in it; and again assured her, that there was not the least tittle
+of what she understood by it between us; and that those who had suggested it
+had done me a great deal of wrong, and Mr. Robert no service at all.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+The old lady was fully satisfied, and kissed me, spoke cheerfully to me, and
+bid me take care of my health and want for nothing, and so took her leave. But
+when she came down she found the brother and all his sisters together by the
+ears; they were angry, even to passion, at his upbraiding them with their being
+homely, and having never had any sweethearts, never having been asked the
+question, and their being so forward as almost to ask first. He rallied them
+upon the subject of Mrs. Betty; how pretty, how good-humoured, how she sung
+better than they did, and danced better, and how much handsomer she was; and in
+doing this he omitted no ill-natured thing that could vex them, and indeed,
+pushed too hard upon them. The old lady came down in the height of it, and to
+put a stop it to, told them all the discourse she had had with me, and how I
+answered, that there was nothing between Mr. Robert and I.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;She&rsquo;s wrong there,&rdquo; says Robin, &ldquo;for if there was not
+a great deal between us, we should be closer together than we are. I told her I
+loved her hugely,&rdquo; says he, &ldquo;but I could never make the jade
+believe I was in earnest.&rdquo; &ldquo;I do not know how you should,&rdquo;
+says his mother; &ldquo;nobody in their senses could believe you were in
+earnest, to talk so to a poor girl, whose circumstances you know so well.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;But prithee, son,&rdquo; adds she, &ldquo;since you tell me that you
+could not make her believe you were in earnest, what must we believe about it?
+For you ramble so in your discourse, that nobody knows whether you are in
+earnest or in jest; but as I find the girl, by your own confession, has
+answered truly, I wish you would do so too, and tell me seriously, so that I
+may depend upon it. Is there anything in it or no? Are you in earnest or no?
+Are you distracted, indeed, or are you not? &rsquo;Tis a weighty question, and
+I wish you would make us easy about it.&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;By my faith, madam,&rdquo; says Robin, &ldquo;&rsquo;tis in vain to
+mince the matter or tell any more lies about it; I am in earnest, as much as a
+man is that&rsquo;s going to be hanged. If Mrs. Betty would say she loved me,
+and that she would marry me, I&rsquo;d have her tomorrow morning fasting, and
+say, &lsquo;To have and to hold,&rsquo; instead of eating my breakfast.&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;Well,&rdquo; says the mother, &ldquo;then there&rsquo;s one son
+lost&rdquo;; and she said it in a very mournful tone, as one greatly concerned
+at it.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;I hope not, madam,&rdquo; says Robin; &ldquo;no man is lost when a good
+wife has found him.&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;Why, but, child,&rdquo; says the old lady, &ldquo;she is a
+beggar.&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;Why, then, madam, she has the more need of charity,&rdquo; says Robin;
+&ldquo;I&rsquo;ll take her off the hands of the parish, and she and I&rsquo;ll
+beg together.&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;It&rsquo;s bad jesting with such things,&rdquo; says the mother.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;I don&rsquo;t jest, madam,&rdquo; says Robin. &ldquo;We&rsquo;ll come
+and beg your pardon, madam; and your blessing, madam, and my
+father&rsquo;s.&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;This is all out of the way, son,&rdquo; says the mother. &ldquo;If you
+are in earnest you are undone.&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;I am afraid not,&rdquo; says he, &ldquo;for I am really afraid she
+won&rsquo;t have me; after all my sister&rsquo;s huffing and blustering, I
+believe I shall never be able to persuade her to it.&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;That&rsquo;s a fine tale, indeed; she is not so far out of her senses
+neither. Mrs. Betty is no fool,&rdquo; says the younger sister. &ldquo;Do you
+think she has learnt to say No, any more than other people?&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;No, Mrs. Mirth-wit,&rdquo; says Robin, &ldquo;Mrs. Betty&rsquo;s no
+fool; but Mrs. Betty may be engaged some other way, and what then?&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;Nay,&rdquo; says the eldest sister, &ldquo;we can say nothing to that.
+Who must it be to, then? She is never out of the doors; it must be between
+you.&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;I have nothing to say to that,&rdquo; says Robin. &ldquo;I have been
+examined enough; there&rsquo;s my brother. If it must be between us, go to work
+with him.&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+This stung the elder brother to the quick, and he concluded that Robin had
+discovered something. However, he kept himself from appearing disturbed.
+&ldquo;Prithee,&rdquo; says he, &ldquo;don&rsquo;t go to shame your stories off
+upon me; I tell you, I deal in no such ware; I have nothing to say to Mrs.
+Betty, nor to any of the Mrs. Bettys in the parish&rdquo;; and with that he
+rose up and brushed off.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;No,&rdquo; says the eldest sister, &ldquo;I dare answer for my brother;
+he knows the world better.&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Thus the discourse ended, but it left the elder brother quite confounded. He
+concluded his brother had made a full discovery, and he began to doubt whether
+I had been concerned in it or not; but with all his management he could not
+bring it about to get at me. At last he was so perplexed that he was quite
+desperate, and resolved he would come into my chamber and see me, whatever came
+of it. In order to do this, he contrived it so, that one day after dinner,
+watching his eldest sister till he could see her go upstairs, he runs after
+her. &ldquo;Hark ye, sister,&rdquo; says he, &ldquo;where is this sick woman?
+May not a body see her?&rdquo; &ldquo;Yes,&rdquo; says the sister, &ldquo;I
+believe you may; but let me go first a little, and I&rsquo;ll tell you.&rdquo;
+So she ran up to the door and gave me notice, and presently called to him
+again. &ldquo;Brother,&rdquo; says she, &ldquo;you may come if you
+please.&rdquo; So in he came, just in the same kind of rant.
+&ldquo;Well,&rdquo; says he at the door as he came in, &ldquo;where is this
+sick body that&rsquo;s in love? How do ye do, Mrs. Betty?&rdquo; I would have
+got up out of my chair, but was so weak I could not for a good while; and he
+saw it, and his sister too, and she said, &ldquo;Come, do not strive to stand
+up; my brother desires no ceremony, especially now you are so weak.&rdquo;
+&ldquo;No, no, Mrs. Betty, pray sit still,&rdquo; says he, and so sits himself
+down in a chair over against me, and appeared as if he was mighty merry.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+He talked a lot of rambling stuff to his sister and to me, sometimes of one
+thing, sometimes of another, on purpose to amuse his sister, and every now and
+then would turn it upon the old story, directing it to me. &ldquo;Poor Mrs.
+Betty,&rdquo; says he, &ldquo;it is a sad thing to be in love; why, it has
+reduced you sadly.&rdquo; At last I spoke a little. &ldquo;I am glad to see you
+so merry, sir,&rdquo; says I; &ldquo;but I think the doctor might have found
+something better to do than to make his game at his patients. If I had been ill
+of no other distemper, I know the proverb too well to have let him come to
+me.&rdquo; &ldquo;What proverb?&rdquo; says he, &ldquo;Oh! I remember it now.
+What&mdash;
+</p>
+
+<p class="poem">
+&ldquo;Where love is the case,<br />
+The doctor&rsquo;s an ass.&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p class="noindent">
+Is not that it, Mrs. Betty?&rdquo; I smiled and said nothing.
+&ldquo;Nay,&rdquo; says he, &ldquo;I think the effect has proved it to be love,
+for it seems the doctor has been able to do you but little service; you mend
+very slowly, they say. I doubt there&rsquo;s somewhat in it, Mrs. Betty; I
+doubt you are sick of the incurables, and that is love.&rdquo; I smiled and
+said, &ldquo;No, indeed, sir, that&rsquo;s none of my distemper.&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+We had a deal of such discourse, and sometimes others that signified as little.
+By and by he asked me to sing them a song, at which I smiled, and said my
+singing days were over. At last he asked me if he should play upon his flute to
+me; his sister said she believe it would hurt me, and that my head could not
+bear it. I bowed, and said, No, it would not hurt me. &ldquo;And, pray,
+madam,&rdquo; said I, &ldquo;do not hinder it; I love the music of the flute
+very much.&rdquo; Then his sister said, &ldquo;Well, do, then, brother.&rdquo;
+With that he pulled out the key of his closet. &ldquo;Dear sister,&rdquo; says
+he, &ldquo;I am very lazy; do step to my closet and fetch my flute; it lies in
+such a drawer,&rdquo; naming a place where he was sure it was not, that she
+might be a little while a-looking for it.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+As soon as she was gone, he related the whole story to me of the discourse his
+brother had about me, and of his pushing it at him, and his concern about it,
+which was the reason of his contriving this visit to me. I assured him I had
+never opened my mouth either to his brother or to anybody else. I told him the
+dreadful exigence I was in; that my love to him, and his offering to have me
+forget that affection and remove it to another, had thrown me down; and that I
+had a thousand times wished I might die rather than recover, and to have the
+same circumstances to struggle with as I had before, and that his backwardness
+to life had been the great reason of the slowness of my recovering. I added
+that I foresaw that as soon as I was well, I must quit the family, and that as
+for marrying his brother, I abhorred the thoughts of it after what had been my
+case with him, and that he might depend upon it I would never see his brother
+again upon that subject; that if he would break all his vows and oaths and
+engagements with me, be that between his conscience and his honour and himself;
+but he should never be able to say that I, whom he had persuaded to call myself
+his wife, and who had given him the liberty to use me as a wife, was not as
+faithful to him as a wife ought to be, whatever he might be to me.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+He was going to reply, and had said that he was sorry I could not be persuaded,
+and was a-going to say more, but he heard his sister a-coming, and so did I;
+and yet I forced out these few words as a reply, that I could never be
+persuaded to love one brother and marry another. He shook his head and said,
+&ldquo;Then I am ruined,&rdquo; meaning himself; and that moment his sister
+entered the room and told him she could not find the flute. &ldquo;Well,&rdquo;
+says he merrily, &ldquo;this laziness won&rsquo;t do&rdquo;; so he gets up and
+goes himself to go to look for it, but comes back without it too; not but that
+he could have found it, but because his mind was a little disturbed, and he had
+no mind to play; and, besides, the errand he sent his sister on was answered
+another way; for he only wanted an opportunity to speak to me, which he gained,
+though not much to his satisfaction.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+I had, however, a great deal of satisfaction in having spoken my mind to him
+with freedom, and with such an honest plainness, as I have related; and though
+it did not at all work the way I desired, that is to say, to oblige the person
+to me the more, yet it took from him all possibility of quitting me but by a
+downright breach of honour, and giving up all the faith of a gentleman to me,
+which he had so often engaged by, never to abandon me, but to make me his wife
+as soon as he came to his estate.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+It was not many weeks after this before I was about the house again, and began
+to grow well; but I continued melancholy, silent, dull, and retired, which
+amazed the whole family, except he that knew the reason of it; yet it was a
+great while before he took any notice of it, and I, as backward to speak as he,
+carried respectfully to him, but never offered to speak a word to him that was
+particular of any kind whatsoever; and this continued for sixteen or seventeen
+weeks; so that, as I expected every day to be dismissed the family, on account
+of what distaste they had taken another way, in which I had no guilt, so I
+expected to hear no more of this gentleman, after all his solemn vows and
+protestations, but to be ruined and abandoned.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+At last I broke the way myself in the family for my removing; for being talking
+seriously with the old lady one day, about my own circumstances in the world,
+and how my distemper had left a heaviness upon my spirits, that I was not the
+same thing I was before, the old lady said, &ldquo;I am afraid, Betty, what I
+have said to you about my son has had some influence upon you, and that you are
+melancholy on his account; pray, will you let me know how the matter stands
+with you both, if it may not be improper? For, as for Robin, he does nothing
+but rally and banter when I speak of it to him.&rdquo; &ldquo;Why, truly,
+madam,&rdquo; said I, &ldquo;that matter stands as I wish it did not, and I
+shall be very sincere with you in it, whatever befalls me for it. Mr. Robert
+has several times proposed marriage to me, which is what I had no reason to
+expect, my poor circumstances considered; but I have always resisted him, and
+that perhaps in terms more positive than became me, considering the regard that
+I ought to have for every branch of your family; but,&rdquo; said I,
+&ldquo;madam, I could never so far forget my obligation to you and all your
+house, to offer to consent to a thing which I know must needs be disobliging to
+you, and this I have made my argument to him, and have positively told him that
+I would never entertain a thought of that kind unless I had your consent, and
+his father&rsquo;s also, to whom I was bound by so many invincible
+obligations.&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;And is this possible, Mrs. Betty?&rdquo; says the old lady. &ldquo;Then
+you have been much juster to us than we have been to you; for we have all
+looked upon you as a kind of snare to my son, and I had a proposal to make to
+you for your removing, for fear of it; but I had not yet mentioned it to you,
+because I thought you were not thorough well, and I was afraid of grieving you
+too much, lest it should throw you down again; for we have all a respect for
+you still, though not so much as to have it be the ruin of my son; but if it be
+as you say, we have all wronged you very much.&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;As to the truth of what I say, madam,&rdquo; said I, &ldquo;refer you to
+your son himself; if he will do me any justice, he must tell you the story just
+as I have told it.&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Away goes the old lady to her daughters and tells them the whole story, just as
+I had told it her; and they were surprised at it, you may be sure, as I
+believed they would be. One said she could never have thought it; another said
+Robin was a fool; a third said she would not believe a word of it, and she
+would warrant that Robin would tell the story another way. But the old
+gentlewoman, who was resolved to go to the bottom of it before I could have the
+least opportunity of acquainting her son with what had passed, resolved too
+that she would talk with her son immediately, and to that purpose sent for him,
+for he was gone but to a lawyer&rsquo;s house in the town, upon some petty
+business of his own, and upon her sending he returned immediately.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Upon his coming up to them, for they were all still together, &ldquo;Sit down,
+Robin,&rdquo; says the old lady, &ldquo;I must have some talk with you.&rdquo;
+&ldquo;With all my heart, madam,&rdquo; says Robin, looking very merry.
+&ldquo;I hope it is about a good wife, for I am at a great loss in that
+affair.&rdquo; &ldquo;How can that be?&rdquo; says his mother; &ldquo;did not
+you say you resolved to have Mrs. Betty?&rdquo; &ldquo;Ay, madam,&rdquo; says
+Robin, &ldquo;but there is one has forbid the banns.&rdquo; &ldquo;Forbid, the
+banns!&rdquo; says his mother; &ldquo;who can that be?&rdquo; &ldquo;Even Mrs.
+Betty herself,&rdquo; says Robin. &ldquo;How so?&rdquo; says his mother.
+&ldquo;Have you asked her the question, then?&rdquo; &ldquo;Yes, indeed,
+madam,&rdquo; says Robin. &ldquo;I have attacked her in form five times since
+she was sick, and am beaten off; the jade is so stout she won&rsquo;t
+capitulate nor yield upon any terms, except such as I cannot effectually
+grant.&rdquo; &ldquo;Explain yourself,&rdquo; says the mother, &ldquo;for I am
+surprised; I do not understand you. I hope you are not in earnest.&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;Why, madam,&rdquo; says he, &ldquo;the case is plain enough upon me, it
+explains itself; she won&rsquo;t have me, she says; is not that plain enough? I
+think &rsquo;tis plain, and pretty rough too.&rdquo; &ldquo;Well, but,&rdquo;
+says the mother, &ldquo;you talk of conditions that you cannot grant; what does
+she want&mdash;a settlement? Her jointure ought to be according to her portion;
+but what fortune does she bring you?&rdquo; &ldquo;Nay, as to fortune,&rdquo;
+says Robin, &ldquo;she is rich enough; I am satisfied in that point; but
+&rsquo;tis I that am not able to come up to her terms, and she is positive she
+will not have me without.&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Here the sisters put in. &ldquo;Madam,&rdquo; says the second sister,
+&ldquo;&rsquo;tis impossible to be serious with him; he will never give a
+direct answer to anything; you had better let him alone, and talk no more of it
+to him; you know how to dispose of her out of his way if you thought there was
+anything in it.&rdquo; Robin was a little warmed with his sister&rsquo;s
+rudeness, but he was even with her, and yet with good manners too. &ldquo;There
+are two sorts of people, madam,&rdquo; says he, turning to his mother,
+&ldquo;that there is no contending with; that is, a wise body and a fool;
+&rsquo;tis a little hard I should engage with both of them together.&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+The younger sister then put in. &ldquo;We must be fools indeed,&rdquo; says
+she, &ldquo;in my brother&rsquo;s opinion, that he should think we can believe
+he has seriously asked Mrs. Betty to marry him, and that she has refused
+him.&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;Answer, and answer not, say Solomon,&rdquo; replied her brother.
+&ldquo;When your brother had said to your mother that he had asked her no less
+than five times, and that it was so, that she positively denied him, methinks a
+younger sister need not question the truth of it when her mother did
+not.&rdquo; &ldquo;My mother, you see, did not understand it,&rdquo; says the
+second sister. &ldquo;There&rsquo;s some difference,&rdquo; says Robin,
+&ldquo;between desiring me to explain it, and telling me she did not believe
+it.&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;Well, but, son,&rdquo; says the old lady, &ldquo;if you are disposed to
+let us into the mystery of it, what were these hard conditions?&rdquo;
+&ldquo;Yes, madam,&rdquo; says Robin, &ldquo;I had done it before now, if the
+teasers here had not worried me by way of interruption. The conditions are,
+that I bring my father and you to consent to it, and without that she protests
+she will never see me more upon that head; and to these conditions, as I said,
+I suppose I shall never be able to grant. I hope my warm sisters will be
+answered now, and blush a little; if not, I have no more to say till I hear
+further.&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+This answer was surprising to them all, though less to the mother, because of
+what I had said to her. As to the daughters, they stood mute a great while; but
+the mother said with some passion, &ldquo;Well, I had heard this before, but I
+could not believe it; but if it is so, then we have all done Betty wrong, and
+she has behaved better than I ever expected.&rdquo; &ldquo;Nay,&rdquo; says the
+eldest sister, &ldquo;if it be so, she has acted handsomely indeed.&rdquo;
+&ldquo;I confess,&rdquo; says the mother, &ldquo;it was none of her fault, if
+he was fool enough to take a fancy to her; but to give such an answer to him,
+shows more respect to your father and me than I can tell how to express; I
+shall value the girl the better for it as long as I know her.&rdquo; &ldquo;But
+I shall not,&rdquo; says Robin, &ldquo;unless you will give your
+consent.&rdquo; &ldquo;I&rsquo;ll consider of that a while,&rdquo; says the
+mother; &ldquo;I assure you, if there were not some other objections in the
+way, this conduct of hers would go a great way to bring me to consent.&rdquo;
+&ldquo;I wish it would go quite through it,&rdquo; says Robin; &ldquo;if you
+had as much thought about making me easy as you have about making me rich, you
+would soon consent to it.&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;Why, Robin,&rdquo; says the mother again, &ldquo;are you really in
+earnest? Would you so fain have her as you pretend?&rdquo; &ldquo;Really,
+madam,&rdquo; says Robin, &ldquo;I think &rsquo;tis hard you should question me
+upon that head after all I have said. I won&rsquo;t say that I will have her;
+how can I resolve that point, when you see I cannot have her without your
+consent? Besides, I am not bound to marry at all. But this I will say, I am in
+earnest in, that I will never have anybody else if I can help it; so you may
+determine for me. Betty or nobody is the word, and the question which of the
+two shall be in your breast to decide, madam, provided only, that my
+good-humoured sisters here may have no vote in it.&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+All this was dreadful to me, for the mother began to yield, and Robin pressed
+her home on it. On the other hand, she advised with the eldest son, and he used
+all the arguments in the world to persuade her to consent; alleging his
+brother&rsquo;s passionate love for me, and my generous regard to the family,
+in refusing my own advantages upon such a nice point of honour, and a thousand
+such things. And as to the father, he was a man in a hurry of public affairs
+and getting money, seldom at home, thoughtful of the main chance, but left all
+those things to his wife.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+You may easily believe, that when the plot was thus, as they thought, broke
+out, and that every one thought they knew how things were carried, it was not
+so difficult or so dangerous for the elder brother, whom nobody suspected of
+anything, to have a freer access to me than before; nay, the mother, which was
+just as he wished, proposed it to him to talk with Mrs. Betty. &ldquo;For it
+may be, son,&rdquo; said she, &ldquo;you may see farther into the thing than I,
+and see if you think she has been so positive as Robin says she has been, or
+no.&rdquo; This was as well as he could wish, and he, as it were, yielding to
+talk with me at his mother&rsquo;s request, she brought me to him into her own
+chamber, told me her son had some business with me at her request, and desired
+me to be very sincere with him, and then she left us together, and he went and
+shut the door after her.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+He came back to me and took me in his arms, and kissed me very tenderly; but
+told me he had a long discourse to hold with me, and it was not come to that
+crisis, that I should make myself happy or miserable as long as I lived; that
+the thing was now gone so far, that if I could not comply with his desire, we
+would both be ruined. Then he told the whole story between Robin, as he called
+him, and his mother and sisters and himself, as it is above. &ldquo;And now,
+dear child,&rdquo; says he, &ldquo;consider what it will be to marry a
+gentleman of a good family, in good circumstances, and with the consent of the
+whole house, and to enjoy all that the world can give you; and what, on the
+other hand, to be sunk into the dark circumstances of a woman that has lost her
+reputation; and that though I shall be a private friend to you while I live,
+yet as I shall be suspected always, so you will be afraid to see me, and I
+shall be afraid to own you.&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+He gave me no time to reply, but went on with me thus: &ldquo;What has happened
+between us, child, so long as we both agree to do so, may be buried and
+forgotten. I shall always be your sincere friend, without any inclination to
+nearer intimacy, when you become my sister; and we shall have all the honest
+part of conversation without any reproaches between us of having done amiss. I
+beg of you to consider it, and to not stand in the way of your own safety and
+prosperity; and to satisfy you that I am sincere,&rdquo; added he, &ldquo;I
+here offer you &pound;500 in money, to make you some amends for the freedoms I
+have taken with you, which we shall look upon as some of the follies of our
+lives, which &rsquo;tis hoped we may repent of.&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+He spoke this in so much more moving terms than it is possible for me to
+express, and with so much greater force of argument than I can repeat, that I
+only recommend it to those who read the story, to suppose, that as he held me
+above an hour and a half in that discourse, so he answered all my objections,
+and fortified his discourse with all the arguments that human wit and art could
+devise.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+I cannot say, however, that anything he said made impression enough upon me so
+as to give me any thought of the matter, till he told me at last very plainly,
+that if I refused, he was sorry to add that he could never go on with me in
+that station as we stood before; that though he loved me as well as ever, and
+that I was as agreeable to him as ever, yet sense of virtue had not so far
+forsaken him as to suffer him to lie with a woman that his brother courted to
+make his wife; and if he took his leave of me, with a denial in this affair,
+whatever he might do for me in the point of support, grounded on his first
+engagement of maintaining me, yet he would not have me be surprised that he was
+obliged to tell me he could not allow himself to see me any more; and that,
+indeed, I could not expect it of him.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+I received this last part with some token of surprise and disorder, and had
+much ado to avoid sinking down, for indeed I loved him to an extravagance not
+easy to imagine; but he perceived my disorder. He entreated me to consider
+seriously of it; assured me that it was the only way to preserve our mutual
+affection; that in this station we might love as friends, with the utmost
+passion, and with a love of relation untainted, free from our just reproaches,
+and free from other people&rsquo;s suspicions; that he should ever acknowledge
+his happiness owing to me; that he would be debtor to me as long as he lived,
+and would be paying that debt as long as he had breath. Thus he wrought me up,
+in short, to a kind of hesitation in the matter; having the dangers on one side
+represented in lively figures, and indeed, heightened by my imagination of
+being turned out to the wide world a mere cast-off whore, for it was no less,
+and perhaps exposed as such, with little to provide for myself, with no friend,
+no acquaintance in the whole world, out of that town, and there I could not
+pretend to stay. All this terrified me to the last degree, and he took care
+upon all occasions to lay it home to me in the worst colours that it could be
+possible to be drawn in. On the other hand, he failed not to set forth the
+easy, prosperous life which I was going to live.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+He answered all that I could object from affection, and from former
+engagements, with telling me the necessity that was before us of taking other
+measures now; and as to his promises of marriage, the nature of things, he
+said, had put an end to that, by the probability of my being his
+brother&rsquo;s wife, before the time to which his promises all referred.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Thus, in a word, I may say, he reasoned me out of my reason; he conquered all
+my arguments, and I began to see a danger that I was in, which I had not
+considered of before, and that was, of being dropped by both of them and left
+alone in the world to shift for myself.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+This, and his persuasion, at length prevailed with me to consent, though with
+so much reluctance, that it was easy to see I should go to church like a bear
+to the stake. I had some little apprehensions about me, too, lest my new
+spouse, who, by the way, I had not the least affection for, should be skillful
+enough to challenge me on another account, upon our first coming to bed
+together. But whether he did it with design or not, I know not, but his elder
+brother took care to make him very much fuddled before he went to bed, so that
+I had the satisfaction of a drunken bedfellow the first night. How he did it I
+know not, but I concluded that he certainly contrived it, that his brother
+might be able to make no judgment of the difference between a maid and a
+married woman; nor did he ever entertain any notions of it, or disturb his
+thoughts about it.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+I should go back a little here to where I left off. The elder brother having
+thus managed me, his next business was to manage his mother, and he never left
+till he had brought her to acquiesce and be passive in the thing, even without
+acquainting the father, other than by post letters; so that she consented to
+our marrying privately, and leaving her to manage the father afterwards.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Then he cajoled with his brother, and persuaded him what service he had done
+him, and how he had brought his mother to consent, which, though true, was not
+indeed done to serve him, but to serve himself; but thus diligently did he
+cheat him, and had the thanks of a faithful friend for shifting off his whore
+into his brother&rsquo;s arms for a wife. So certainly does interest banish all
+manner of affection, and so naturally do men give up honour and justice,
+humanity, and even Christianity, to secure themselves.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+I must now come back to brother Robin, as we always called him, who having got
+his mother&rsquo;s consent, as above, came big with the news to me, and told me
+the whole story of it, with a sincerity so visible, that I must confess it
+grieved me that I must be the instrument to abuse so honest a gentleman. But
+there was no remedy; he would have me, and I was not obliged to tell him that I
+was his brother&rsquo;s whore, though I had no other way to put him off; so I
+came gradually into it, to his satisfaction, and behold we were married.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Modesty forbids me to reveal the secrets of the marriage-bed, but nothing could
+have happened more suitable to my circumstances than that, as above, my husband
+was so fuddled when he came to bed, that he could not remember in the morning
+whether he had had any conversation with me or no, and I was obliged to tell
+him he had, though in reality he had not, that I might be sure he could make to
+inquiry about anything else.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+It concerns the story in hand very little to enter into the further particulars
+of the family, or of myself, for the five years that I lived with this husband,
+only to observe that I had two children by him, and that at the end of five
+years he died. He had been really a very good husband to me, and we lived very
+agreeably together; but as he had not received much from them, and had in the
+little time he lived acquired no great matters, so my circumstances were not
+great, nor was I much mended by the match. Indeed, I had preserved the elder
+brother&rsquo;s bonds to me, to pay &pound;500, which he offered me for my
+consent to marry his brother; and this, with what I had saved of the money he
+formerly gave me, about as much more by my husband, left me a widow with about
+&pound;1200 in my pocket.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+My two children were, indeed, taken happily off my hands by my husband&rsquo;s
+father and mother, and that, by the way, was all they got by Mrs. Betty.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+I confess I was not suitably affected with the loss of my husband, nor indeed
+can I say that I ever loved him as I ought to have done, or as was
+proportionable to the good usage I had from him, for he was a tender, kind,
+good-humoured man as any woman could desire; but his brother being so always in
+my sight, at least while we were in the country, was a continual snare to me,
+and I never was in bed with my husband but I wished myself in the arms of his
+brother; and though his brother never offered me the least kindness that way
+after our marriage, but carried it just as a brother ought to do, yet it was
+impossible for me to do so to him; in short, I committed adultery and incest
+with him every day in my desires, which, without doubt, was as effectually
+criminal in the nature of the guilt as if I had actually done it.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Before my husband died his elder brother was married, and we, being then
+removed to London, were written to by the old lady to come and be at the
+wedding. My husband went, but I pretended indisposition, and that I could not
+possibly travel, so I stayed behind; for, in short, I could not bear the sight
+of his being given to another woman, though I knew I was never to have him
+myself.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+I was now, as above, left loose to the world, and being still young and
+handsome, as everybody said of me, and I assure you I thought myself so, and
+with a tolerable fortune in my pocket, I put no small value upon myself. I was
+courted by several very considerable tradesmen, and particularly very warmly by
+one, a linen-draper, at whose house, after my husband&rsquo;s death, I took a
+lodging, his sister being my acquaintance. Here I had all the liberty and all
+the opportunity to be gay and appear in company that I could desire, my
+landlord&rsquo;s sister being one of the maddest, gayest things alive, and not
+so much mistress of her virtue as I thought at first she had been. She brought
+me into a world of wild company, and even brought home several persons, such as
+she liked well enough to gratify, to see her pretty widow, so she was pleased
+to call me, and that name I got in a little time in public. Now, as fame and
+fools make an assembly, I was here wonderfully caressed, had abundance of
+admirers, and such as called themselves lovers; but I found not one fair
+proposal among them all. As for their common design, that I understood too well
+to be drawn into any more snares of that kind. The case was altered with me: I
+had money in my pocket, and had nothing to say to them. I had been tricked once
+by that cheat called love, but the game was over; I was resolved now to be
+married or nothing, and to be well married or not at all.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+I loved the company, indeed, of men of mirth and wit, men of gallantry and
+figure, and was often entertained with such, as I was also with others; but I
+found by just observation, that the brightest men came upon the dullest
+errand&mdash;that is to say, the dullest as to what I aimed at. On the other
+hand, those who came with the best proposals were the dullest and most
+disagreeable part of the world. I was not averse to a tradesman, but then I
+would have a tradesman, forsooth, that was something of a gentleman too; that
+when my husband had a mind to carry me to the court, or to the play, he might
+become a sword, and look as like a gentleman as another man; and not be one
+that had the mark of his apron-strings upon his coat, or the mark of his hat
+upon his periwig; that should look as if he was set on to his sword, when his
+sword was put on to him, and that carried his trade in his countenance.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Well, at last I found this amphibious creature, this land-water thing called a
+gentleman-tradesman; and as a just plague upon my folly, I was catched in the
+very snare which, as I might say, I laid for myself. I said for myself, for I
+was not trepanned, I confess, but I betrayed myself.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+This was a draper, too, for though my comrade would have brought me to a
+bargain with her brother, yet when it came to the point, it was, it seems, for
+a mistress, not a wife; and I kept true to this notion, that a woman should
+never be kept for a mistress that had money to keep herself.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Thus my pride, not my principle, my money, not my virtue, kept me honest;
+though, as it proved, I found I had much better have been sold by my
+she-comrade to her brother, than have sold myself as I did to a tradesman that
+was rake, gentleman, shopkeeper, and beggar, all together.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+But I was hurried on (by my fancy to a gentleman) to ruin myself in the
+grossest manner that every woman did; for my new husband coming to a lump of
+money at once, fell into such a profusion of expense, that all I had, and all
+he had before, if he had anything worth mentioning, would not have held it out
+above one year.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+He was very fond of me for about a quarter of a year, and what I got by that
+was, that I had the pleasure of seeing a great deal of my money spent upon
+myself, and, as I may say, had some of the spending it too. &ldquo;Come, my
+dear,&rdquo; says he to me one day, &ldquo;shall we go and take a turn into the
+country for about a week?&rdquo; &ldquo;Ay, my dear,&rdquo; says I,
+&ldquo;whither would you go?&rdquo; &ldquo;I care not whither,&rdquo; says he,
+&ldquo;but I have a mind to look like quality for a week. We&rsquo;ll go to
+Oxford,&rdquo; says he. &ldquo;How,&rdquo; says I, &ldquo;shall we go? I am no
+horsewoman, and &rsquo;tis too far for a coach.&rdquo; &ldquo;Too far!&rdquo;
+says he; &ldquo;no place is too far for a coach-and-six. If I carry you out,
+you shall travel like a duchess.&rdquo; &ldquo;Hum,&rdquo; says I, &ldquo;my
+dear, &rsquo;tis a frolic; but if you have a mind to it, I don&rsquo;t
+care.&rdquo; Well, the time was appointed, we had a rich coach, very good
+horses, a coachman, postillion, and two footmen in very good liveries; a
+gentleman on horseback, and a page with a feather in his hat upon another
+horse. The servants all called him my lord, and the inn-keepers, you may be
+sure, did the like, and I was her honour the Countess, and thus we traveled to
+Oxford, and a very pleasant journey we had; for, give him his due, not a beggar
+alive knew better how to be a lord than my husband. We saw all the rarities at
+Oxford, talked with two or three Fellows of colleges about putting out a young
+nephew, that was left to his lordship&rsquo;s care, to the University, and of
+their being his tutors. We diverted ourselves with bantering several other poor
+scholars, with hopes of being at least his lordship&rsquo;s chaplains and
+putting on a scarf; and thus having lived like quality indeed, as to expense,
+we went away for Northampton, and, in a word, in about twelve days&rsquo;
+ramble came home again, to the tune of about &pound;93 expense.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Vanity is the perfection of a fop. My husband had this excellence, that he
+valued nothing of expense; and as his history, you may be sure, has very little
+weight in it, &rsquo;tis enough to tell you that in about two years and a
+quarter he broke, and was not so happy to get over into the Mint, but got into
+a sponging-house, being arrested in an action too heavy from him to give bail
+to, so he sent for me to come to him.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+It was no surprise to me, for I had foreseen some time that all was going to
+wreck, and had been taking care to reserve something if I could, though it was
+not much, for myself. But when he sent for me, he behaved much better than I
+expected, and told me plainly he had played the fool, and suffered himself to
+be surprised, which he might have prevented; that now he foresaw he could not
+stand it, and therefore he would have me go home, and in the night take away
+everything I had in the house of any value, and secure it; and after that, he
+told me that if I could get away one hundred or two hundred pounds in goods out
+of the shop, I should do it; &ldquo;only,&rdquo; says he, &ldquo;let me know
+nothing of it, neither what you take nor whither you carry it; for as for
+me,&rdquo; says he, &ldquo;I am resolved to get out of this house and be gone;
+and if you never hear of me more, my dear,&rdquo; says he, &ldquo;I wish you
+well; I am only sorry for the injury I have done you.&rdquo; He said some very
+handsome things to me indeed at parting; for I told you he was a gentleman, and
+that was all the benefit I had of his being so; that he used me very handsomely
+and with good manners upon all occasions, even to the last, only spent all I
+had, and left me to rob the creditors for something to subsist on.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+However, I did as he bade me, that you may be sure; and having thus taken my
+leave of him, I never saw him more, for he found means to break out of the
+bailiff&rsquo;s house that night or the next, and go over into France, and for
+the rest of the creditors scrambled for it as well as they could. How, I knew
+not, for I could come at no knowledge of anything, more than this, that he came
+home about three o&rsquo;clock in the morning, caused the rest of his goods to
+be removed into the Mint, and the shop to be shut up; and having raised what
+money he could get together, he got over, as I said, to France, from whence I
+had one or two letters from him, and no more. I did not see him when he came
+home, for he having given me such instructions as above, and I having made the
+best of my time, I had no more business back again at the house, not knowing
+but I might have been stopped there by the creditors; for a commission of
+bankrupt being soon after issued, they might have stopped me by orders from the
+commissioners. But my husband, having so dexterously got out of the
+bailiff&rsquo;s house by letting himself down in a most desperate manner from
+almost the top of the house to the top of another building, and leaping from
+thence, which was almost two storeys, and which was enough indeed to have
+broken his neck, he came home and got away his goods before the creditors could
+come to seize; that is to say, before they could get out the commission, and be
+ready to send their officers to take possession.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+My husband was so civil to me, for still I say he was much of a gentleman, that
+in the first letter he wrote me from France, he let me know where he had pawned
+twenty pieces of fine holland for &pound;30, which were really worth &pound;90,
+and enclosed me the token and an order for the taking them up, paying the
+money, which I did, and made in time above &pound;100 of them, having leisure
+to cut them and sell them, some and some, to private families, as opportunity
+offered.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+However, with all this, and all that I had secured before, I found, upon
+casting things up, my case was very much altered, any my fortune much lessened;
+for, including the hollands and a parcel of fine muslins, which I carried off
+before, and some plate, and other things, I found I could hardly muster up
+&pound;500; and my condition was very odd, for though I had no child (I had had
+one by my gentleman draper, but it was buried), yet I was a widow bewitched; I
+had a husband and no husband, and I could not pretend to marry again, though I
+knew well enough my husband would never see England any more, if he lived fifty
+years. Thus, I say, I was limited from marriage, what offer might soever be
+made me; and I had not one friend to advise with in the condition I was in,
+least not one I durst trust the secret of my circumstances to, for if the
+commissioners were to have been informed where I was, I should have been
+fetched up and examined upon oath, and all I have saved be taken away from me.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Upon these apprehensions, the first thing I did was to go quite out of my
+knowledge, and go by another name. This I did effectually, for I went into the
+Mint too, took lodgings in a very private place, dressed up in the habit of a
+widow, and called myself Mrs. Flanders.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Here, however, I concealed myself, and though my new acquaintances knew nothing
+of me, yet I soon got a great deal of company about me; and whether it be that
+women are scarce among the sorts of people that generally are to be found
+there, or that some consolations in the miseries of the place are more
+requisite than on other occasions, I soon found an agreeable woman was
+exceedingly valuable among the sons of affliction there, and that those that
+wanted money to pay half a crown on the pound to their creditors, and that run
+in debt at the sign of the Bull for their dinners, would yet find money for a
+supper, if they liked the woman.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+However, I kept myself safe yet, though I began, like my Lord Rochester&rsquo;s
+mistress, that loved his company, but would not admit him farther, to have the
+scandal of a whore, without the joy; and upon this score, tired with the place,
+and indeed with the company too, I began to think of removing.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+It was indeed a subject of strange reflection to me to see men who were
+overwhelmed in perplexed circumstances, who were reduced some degrees below
+being ruined, whose families were objects of their own terror and other
+people&rsquo;s charity, yet while a penny lasted, nay, even beyond it,
+endeavouring to drown themselves, labouring to forget former things, which now
+it was the proper time to remember, making more work for repentance, and
+sinning on, as a remedy for sin past.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+But it is none of my talent to preach; these men were too wicked, even for me.
+There was something horrid and absurd in their way of sinning, for it was all a
+force even upon themselves; they did not only act against conscience, but
+against nature; they put a rape upon their temper to drown the reflections,
+which their circumstances continually gave them; and nothing was more easy than
+to see how sighs would interrupt their songs, and paleness and anguish sit upon
+their brows, in spite of the forced smiles they put on; nay, sometimes it would
+break out at their very mouths when they had parted with their money for a lewd
+treat or a wicked embrace. I have heard them, turning about, fetch a deep sigh,
+and cry, &ldquo;What a dog am I! Well, Betty, my dear, I&rsquo;ll drink thy
+health, though&rdquo;; meaning the honest wife, that perhaps had not a
+half-crown for herself and three or four children. The next morning they are at
+their penitentials again; and perhaps the poor weeping wife comes over to him,
+either brings him some account of what his creditors are doing, and how she and
+the children are turned out of doors, or some other dreadful news; and this
+adds to his self-reproaches; but when he has thought and pored on it till he is
+almost mad, having no principles to support him, nothing within him or above
+him to comfort him, but finding it all darkness on every side, he flies to the
+same relief again, viz. to drink it away, debauch it away, and falling into
+company of men in just the same condition with himself, he repeats the crime,
+and thus he goes every day one step onward of his way to destruction.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+I was not wicked enough for such fellows as these yet. On the contrary, I began
+to consider here very seriously what I had to do; how things stood with me, and
+what course I ought to take. I knew I had no friends, no, not one friend or
+relation in the world; and that little I had left apparently wasted, which when
+it was gone, I saw nothing but misery and starving was before me. Upon these
+considerations, I say, and filled with horror at the place I was in, and the
+dreadful objects which I had always before me, I resolved to be gone.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+I had made an acquaintance with a very sober, good sort of a woman, who was a
+widow too, like me, but in better circumstances. Her husband had been a captain
+of a merchant ship, and having had the misfortune to be cast away coming home
+on a voyage from the West Indies, which would have been very profitable if he
+had come safe, was so reduced by the loss, that though he had saved his life
+then, it broke his heart, and killed him afterwards; and his widow, being
+pursued by the creditors, was forced to take shelter in the Mint. She soon made
+things up with the help of friends, and was at liberty again; and finding that
+I rather was there to be concealed, than by any particular prosecutions and
+finding also that I agreed with her, or rather she with me, in a just
+abhorrence of the place and of the company, she invited to go home with her
+till I could put myself in some posture of settling in the world to my mind;
+withal telling me, that it was ten to one but some good captain of a ship might
+take a fancy to me, and court me, in that part of the town where she lived.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+I accepted her offer, and was with her half a year, and should have been
+longer, but in that interval what she proposed to me happened to herself, and
+she married very much to her advantage. But whose fortune soever was upon the
+increase, mine seemed to be upon the wane, and I found nothing present, except
+two or three boatswains, or such fellows, but as for the commanders, they were
+generally of two sorts: 1. Such as, having good business, that is to say, a
+good ship, resolved not to marry but with advantage, that is, with a good
+fortune; 2. Such as, being out of employ, wanted a wife to help them to a ship;
+I mean (1) a wife who, having some money, could enable them to hold, as they
+call it, a good part of a ship themselves, so to encourage owners to come in;
+or (2) a wife who, if she had not money, had friends who were concerned in
+shipping, and so could help to put the young man into a good ship, which to
+them is as good as a portion; and neither of these was my case, so I looked
+like one that was to lie on hand.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+This knowledge I soon learned by experience, viz. that the state of things was
+altered as to matrimony, and that I was not to expect at London what I had
+found in the country: that marriages were here the consequences of politic
+schemes for forming interests, and carrying on business, and that Love had no
+share, or but very little, in the matter.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+That as my sister-in-law at Colchester had said, beauty, wit, manners, sense,
+good humour, good behaviour, education, virtue, piety, or any other
+qualification, whether of body or mind, had no power to recommend; that money
+only made a woman agreeable; that men chose mistresses indeed by the gust of
+their affection, and it was requisite to a whore to be handsome, well-shaped,
+have a good mien and a graceful behaviour; but that for a wife, no deformity
+would shock the fancy, no ill qualities the judgment; the money was the thing;
+the portion was neither crooked nor monstrous, but the money was always
+agreeable, whatever the wife was.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+On the other hand, as the market ran very unhappily on the men&rsquo;s side, I
+found the women had lost the privilege of saying No; that it was a favour now
+for a woman to have the Question asked, and if any young lady had so much
+arrogance as to counterfeit a negative, she never had the opportunity given her
+of denying twice, much less of recovering that false step, and accepting what
+she had but seemed to decline. The men had such choice everywhere, that the
+case of the women was very unhappy; for they seemed to ply at every door, and
+if the man was by great chance refused at one house, he was sure to be received
+at the next.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Besides this, I observed that the men made no scruple to set themselves out,
+and to go a-fortunehunting, as they call it, when they had really no fortune
+themselves to demand it, or merit to deserve it; and that they carried it so
+high, that a woman was scarce allowed to inquire after the character or estate
+of the person that pretended to her. This I had an example of, in a young lady
+in the next house to me, and with whom I had contracted an intimacy; she was
+courted by a young captain, and though she had near &pound;2000 to her fortune,
+she did but inquire of some of his neighbours about his character, his morals,
+or substance, and he took occasion at the next visit to let her know, truly,
+that he took it very ill, and that he should not give her the trouble of his
+visits any more. I heard of it, and I had begun my acquaintance with her, I
+went to see her upon it. She entered into a close conversation with me about
+it, and unbosomed herself very freely. I perceived presently that though she
+thought herself very ill used, yet she had no power to resent it, and was
+exceedingly piqued that she had lost him, and particularly that another of less
+fortune had gained him.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+I fortified her mind against such a meanness, as I called it; I told her, that
+as low as I was in the world, I would have despised a man that should think I
+ought to take him upon his own recommendation only, without having the liberty
+to inform myself of his fortune and of his character; also I told her, that as
+she had a good fortune, she had no need to stoop to the disaster of the time;
+that it was enough that the men could insult us that had but little money to
+recommend us, but if she suffered such an affront to pass upon her without
+resenting it, she would be rendered low-prized upon all occasions, and would be
+the contempt of all the women in that part of the town; that a woman can never
+want an opportunity to be revenged of a man that has used her ill, and that
+there were ways enough to humble such a fellow as that, or else certainly women
+were the most unhappy creatures in the world.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+I found she was very well pleased with the discourse, and she told me seriously
+that she would be very glad to make him sensible of her just resentment, and
+either to bring him on again, or have the satisfaction of her revenge being as
+public as possible.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+I told her, that if she would take my advice, I would tell her how she should
+obtain her wishes in both these things; and that I would engage to bring the
+man to her door again, and make him beg to be let in. She smiled at that, and
+plainly let me see, that if he came to her door, her resentment was not so
+great as to give her leave to let him stand long there.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+However, she listened very willingly to my offer of advice; so I told her that
+the first thing she ought to do was a piece of justice to herself, namely, that
+whereas she had been told by several people that he had reported among the
+ladies that he had left her, and pretended to give the advantage of the
+negative to himself, she should take care to have it well spread among the
+women&mdash;which she could not fail of an opportunity to do in a neighbourhood
+so addicted to family news as that she live in was&mdash;that she had inquired
+into his circumstances, and found he was not the man as to estate he pretended
+to be. &ldquo;Let them be told, madam,&rdquo; said I, &ldquo;that you had been
+well informed that he was not the man that you expected, and that you thought
+it was not safe to meddle with him; that you heard he was of an ill temper, and
+that he boasted how he had used the women ill upon many occasions, and that
+particularly he was debauched in his morals&rdquo;, etc. The last of which,
+indeed, had some truth in it; but at the same time I did not find that she
+seemed to like him much the worse for that part.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+As I had put this into her head, she came most readily into it. Immediately she
+went to work to find instruments, and she had very little difficulty in the
+search, for telling her story in general to a couple of gossips in the
+neighbourhood, it was the chat of the tea-table all over that part of the town,
+and I met with it wherever I visited; also, as it was known that I was
+acquainted with the young lady herself, my opinion was asked very often, and I
+confirmed it with all the necessary aggravations, and set out his character in
+the blackest colours; but then as a piece of secret intelligence, I added, as
+what the other gossips knew nothing of, viz. that I had heard he was in very
+bad circumstances; that he was under a necessity of a fortune to support his
+interest with the owners of the ship he commanded; that his own part was not
+paid for, and if it was not paid quickly, his owners would put him out of the
+ship, and his chief mate was likely to command it, who offered to buy that part
+which the captain had promised to take.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+I added, for I confess I was heartily piqued at the rogue, as I called him,
+that I had heard a rumour, too, that he had a wife alive at Plymouth, and
+another in the West Indies, a thing which they all knew was not very uncommon
+for such kind of gentlemen.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+This worked as we both desire it, for presently the young lady next door, who
+had a father and mother that governed both her and her fortune, was shut up,
+and her father forbid him the house. Also in one place more where he went, the
+woman had the courage, however strange it was, to say No; and he could try
+nowhere but he was reproached with his pride, and that he pretended not to give
+the women leave to inquire into his character, and the like.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Well, by this time he began to be sensible of his mistake; and having alarmed
+all the women on that side of the water, he went over to Ratcliff, and got
+access to some of the ladies there; but though the young women there too were,
+according to the fate of the day, pretty willing to be asked, yet such was his
+ill-luck, that his character followed him over the water and his good name was
+much the same there as it was on our side; so that though he might have had
+wives enough, yet it did not happen among the women that had good fortunes,
+which was what he wanted.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+But this was not all; she very ingeniously managed another thing herself, for
+she got a young gentleman, who as a relation, and was indeed a married man, to
+come and visit her two or three times a week in a very fine chariot and good
+liveries, and her two agents, and I also, presently spread a report all over,
+that this gentleman came to court her; that he was a gentleman of a &pound;1000
+a year, and that he was fallen in love with her, and that she was going to her
+aunt&rsquo;s in the city, because it was inconvenient for the gentleman to come
+to her with his coach in Redriff, the streets being so narrow and difficult.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+This took immediately. The captain was laughed at in all companies, and was
+ready to hang himself. He tried all the ways possible to come at her again, and
+wrote the most passionate letters to her in the world, excusing his former
+rashness; and in short, by great application, obtained leave to wait on her
+again, as he said, to clear his reputation.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+At this meeting she had her full revenge of him; for she told him she wondered
+what he took her to be, that she should admit any man to a treaty of so much
+consequence as that to marriage, without inquiring very well into his
+circumstances; that if he thought she was to be huffed into wedlock, and that
+she was in the same circumstances which her neighbours might be in, viz. to
+take up with the first good Christian that came, he was mistaken; that, in a
+word, his character was really bad, or he was very ill beholden to his
+neighbours; and that unless he could clear up some points, in which she had
+justly been prejudiced, she had no more to say to him, but to do herself
+justice, and give him the satisfaction of knowing that she was not afraid to
+say No, either to him or any man else.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+With that she told him what she had heard, or rather raised herself by my
+means, of his character; his not having paid for the part he pretended to own
+of the ship he commanded; of the resolution of his owners to put him out of the
+command, and to put his mate in his stead; and of the scandal raised on his
+morals; his having been reproached with such-and-such women, and having a wife
+at Plymouth and in the West Indies, and the like; and she asked him whether he
+could deny that she had good reason, if these things were not cleared up, to
+refuse him, and in the meantime to insist upon having satisfaction in points to
+significant as they were.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+He was so confounded at her discourse that he could not answer a word, and she
+almost began to believe that all was true, by his disorder, though at the same
+time she knew that she had been the raiser of all those reports herself.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+After some time he recovered himself a little, and from that time became the
+most humble, the most modest, and most importunate man alive in his courtship.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+She carried her jest on a great way. She asked him, if he thought she was so at
+her last shift that she could or ought to bear such treatment, and if he did
+not see that she did not want those who thought it worth their while to come
+farther to her than he did; meaning the gentleman whom she had brought to visit
+her by way of sham.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+She brought him by these tricks to submit to all possible measures to satisfy
+her, as well of his circumstances as of his behaviour. He brought her
+undeniable evidence of his having paid for his part of the ship; he brought her
+certificates from his owners, that the report of their intending to remove him
+from the command of the ship and put his chief mate in was false and
+groundless; in short, he was quite the reverse of what he was before.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Thus I convinced her, that if the men made their advantage of our sex in the
+affair of marriage, upon the supposition of there being such choice to be had,
+and of the women being so easy, it was only owing to this, that the women
+wanted courage to maintain their ground and to play their part; and that,
+according to my Lord Rochester,
+</p>
+
+<p class="poem">
+&ldquo;A woman&rsquo;s ne&rsquo;er so ruined but she can<br />
+Revenge herself on her undoer, Man.&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+After these things this young lady played her part so well, that though she
+resolved to have him, and that indeed having him was the main bent of her
+design, yet she made his obtaining her be to him the most difficult thing in
+the world; and this she did, not by a haughty reserved carriage, but by a just
+policy, turning the tables upon him, and playing back upon him his own game;
+for as he pretended, by a kind of lofty carriage, to place himself above the
+occasion of a character, and to make inquiring into his character a kind of an
+affront to him, she broke with him upon that subject, and at the same time that
+she make him submit to all possible inquiry after his affairs, she apparently
+shut the door against his looking into her own.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+It was enough to him to obtain her for a wife. As to what she had, she told him
+plainly, that as he knew her circumstances, it was but just she should know
+his; and though at the same time he had only known her circumstances by common
+fame, yet he had made so many protestations of his passion for her, that he
+could ask no more but her hand to his grand request, and the like ramble
+according to the custom of lovers. In short, he left himself no room to ask any
+more questions about her estate, and she took the advantage of it like a
+prudent woman, for she placed part of her fortune so in trustees, without
+letting him know anything of it, that it was quite out of his reach, and made
+him be very well content with the rest.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+It is true she was pretty well besides, that is to say, she had about
+&pound;1400 in money, which she gave him; and the other, after some time, she
+brought to light as a perquisite to herself, which he was to accept as a mighty
+favour, seeing though it was not to be his, it might ease him in the article of
+her particular expenses; and I must add, that by this conduct the gentleman
+himself became not only the more humble in his applications to her to obtain
+her, but also was much the more an obliging husband to her when he had her. I
+cannot but remind the ladies here how much they place themselves below the
+common station of a wife, which, if I may be allowed not to be partial, is low
+enough already; I say, they place themselves below their common station, and
+prepare their own mortifications, by their submitting so to be insulted by the
+men beforehand, which I confess I see no necessity of.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+This relation may serve, therefore, to let the ladies see that the advantage is
+not so much on the other side as the men think it is; and though it may be true
+that the men have but too much choice among us, and that some women may be
+found who will dishonour themselves, be cheap, and easy to come at, and will
+scarce wait to be asked, yet if they will have women, as I may say, worth
+having, they may find them as uncomeatable as ever and that those that are
+otherwise are a sort of people that have such deficiencies, when had, as rather
+recommend the ladies that are difficult than encourage the men to go on with
+their easy courtship, and expect wives equally valuable that will come at first
+call.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Nothing is more certain than that the ladies always gain of the men by keeping
+their ground, and letting their pretended lovers see they can resent being
+slighted, and that they are not afraid of saying No. They, I observe, insult us
+mightily with telling us of the number of women; that the wars, and the sea,
+and trade, and other incidents have carried the men so much away, that there is
+no proportion between the numbers of the sexes, and therefore the women have
+the disadvantage; but I am far from granting that the number of women is so
+great, or the number of men so small; but if they will have me tell the truth,
+the disadvantage of the women is a terrible scandal upon the men, and it lies
+here, and here only; namely, that the age is so wicked, and the sex so
+debauched, that, in short, the number of such men as an honest woman ought to
+meddle with is small indeed, and it is but here and there that a man is to be
+found who is fit for a woman to venture upon.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+But the consequence even of that too amounts to no more than this, that women
+ought to be the more nice; for how do we know the just character of the man
+that makes the offer? To say that the woman should be the more easy on this
+occasion, is to say we should be the forwarder to venture because of the
+greatness of the danger, which, in my way of reasoning, is very absurd.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+On the contrary, the women have ten thousand times the more reason to be wary
+and backward, by how much the hazard of being betrayed is the greater; and
+would the ladies consider this, and act the wary part, they would discover
+every cheat that offered; for, in short, the lives of very few men nowadays
+will bear a character; and if the ladies do but make a little inquiry, they
+will soon be able to distinguish the men and deliver themselves. As for women
+that do not think their own safety worth their thought, that, impatient of
+their perfect state, resolve, as they call it, to take the first good Christian
+that comes, that run into matrimony as a horse rushes into the battle, I can
+say nothing to them but this, that they are a sort of ladies that are to be
+prayed for among the rest of distempered people, and to me they look like
+people that venture their whole estates in a lottery where there is a hundred
+thousand blanks to one prize.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+No man of common-sense will value a woman the less for not giving up herself at
+the first attack, or for accepting his proposal without inquiring into his
+person or character; on the contrary, he must think her the weakest of all
+creatures in the world, as the rate of men now goes. In short, he must have a
+very contemptible opinion of her capacities, nay, every of her understanding,
+that, having but one case of her life, shall call that life away at once, and
+make matrimony, like death, be a leap in the dark.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+I would fain have the conduct of my sex a little regulated in this particular,
+which is the thing in which, of all the parts of life, I think at this time we
+suffer most in; &rsquo;tis nothing but lack of courage, the fear of not being
+married at all, and of that frightful state of life called an old maid, of
+which I have a story to tell by itself. This, I say, is the woman&rsquo;s
+snare; but would the ladies once but get above that fear and manage rightly,
+they would more certainly avoid it by standing their ground, in a case so
+absolutely necessary to their felicity, that by exposing themselves as they do;
+and if they did not marry so soon as they may do otherwise, they would make
+themselves amends by marrying safer. She is always married too soon who gets a
+bad husband, and she is never married too late who gets a good one; in a word,
+there is no woman, deformity or lost reputation excepted, but if she manages
+well, may be married safely one time or other; but if she precipitates herself,
+it is ten thousand to one but she is undone.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+But I come now to my own case, in which there was at this time no little
+nicety. The circumstances I was in made the offer of a good husband the most
+necessary thing in the world to me, but I found soon that to be made cheap and
+easy was not the way. It soon began to be found that the widow had no fortune,
+and to say this was to say all that was ill of me, for I began to be dropped in
+all the discourses of matrimony. Being well-bred, handsome, witty, modest, and
+agreeable; all which I had allowed to my character&mdash;whether justly or no
+is not the purpose&mdash;I say, all these would not do without the dross, which
+way now become more valuable than virtue itself. In short, the widow, they
+said, had no money.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+I resolved, therefore, as to the state of my present circumstances, that it was
+absolutely necessary to change my station, and make a new appearance in some
+other place where I was not known, and even to pass by another name if I found
+occasion.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+I communicated my thoughts to my intimate friend, the captain&rsquo;s lady,
+whom I had so faithfully served in her case with the captain, and who was as
+ready to serve me in the same kind as I could desire. I made no scruple to lay
+my circumstances open to her; my stock was but low, for I had made but about
+&pound;540 at the close of my last affair, and I had wasted some of that;
+however, I had about &pound;460 left, a great many very rich clothes, a gold
+watch, and some jewels, though of no extraordinary value, and about &pound;30
+or &pound;40 left in linen not disposed of.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+My dear and faithful friend, the captain&rsquo;s wife, was so sensible of the
+service I had done her in the affair above, that she was not only a steady
+friend to me, but, knowing my circumstances, she frequently made me presents as
+money came into her hands, such as fully amounted to a maintenance, so that I
+spent none of my own; and at last she made this unhappy proposal to me, viz.
+that as we had observed, as above, how the men made no scruple to set
+themselves out as persons meriting a woman of fortune, when they had really no
+fortune of their own, it was but just to deal with them in their own way and,
+if it was possible, to deceive the deceiver.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+The captain&rsquo;s lady, in short, put this project into my head, and told me
+if I would be ruled by her I should certainly get a husband of fortune, without
+leaving him any room to reproach me with want of my own. I told her, as I had
+reason to do, that I would give up myself wholly to her directions, and that I
+would have neither tongue to speak nor feet to step in that affair but as she
+should direct me, depending that she would extricate me out of every difficulty
+she brought me into, which she said she would answer for.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+The first step she put me upon was to call her cousin, and go to a
+relation&rsquo;s house of hers in the country, where she directed me, and where
+she brought her husband to visit me; and calling me cousin, she worked matters
+so about, that her husband and she together invited me most passionately to
+come to town and be with them, for they now live in a quite different place
+from where they were before. In the next place, she tells her husband that I
+had at least &pound;1500 fortune, and that after some of my relations I was
+like to have a great deal more.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+It was enough to tell her husband this; there needed nothing on my side. I was
+but to sit still and wait the event, for it presently went all over the
+neighbourhood that the young widow at Captain &mdash;&mdash;&rsquo;s was a
+fortune, that she had at least &pound;1500, and perhaps a great deal more, and
+that the captain said so; and if the captain was asked at any time about me, he
+made no scruple to affirm it, though he knew not one word of the matter, other
+than that his wife had told him so; and in this he thought no harm, for he
+really believed it to be so, because he had it from his wife: so slender a
+foundation will those fellows build upon, if they do but think there is a
+fortune in the game. With the reputation of this fortune, I presently found
+myself blessed with admirers enough, and that I had my choice of men, as scarce
+as they said they were, which, by the way, confirms what I was saying before.
+This being my case, I, who had a subtle game to play, had nothing now to do but
+to single out from them all the properest man that might be for my purpose;
+that is to say, the man who was most likely to depend upon the hearsay of a
+fortune, and not inquire too far into the particulars; and unless I did this I
+did nothing, for my case would not bear much inquiry.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+I picked out my man without much difficulty, by the judgment I made of his way
+of courting me. I had let him run on with his protestations and oaths that he
+loved me above all the world; that if I would make him happy, that was enough;
+all which I knew was upon supposition, nay, it was upon a full satisfaction,
+that I was very rich, though I never told him a word of it myself.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+This was my man; but I was to try him to the bottom, and indeed in that
+consisted my safety; for if he baulked, I knew I was undone, as surely as he
+was undone if he took me; and if I did not make some scruple about his fortune,
+it was the way to lead him to raise some about mine; and first, therefore, I
+pretended on all occasions to doubt his sincerity, and told him, perhaps he
+only courted me for my fortune. He stopped my mouth in that part with the
+thunder of his protestations, as above, but still I pretended to doubt.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+One morning he pulls off his diamond ring, and writes upon the glass of the
+sash in my chamber this line&mdash;
+</p>
+
+<p class="poem">
+&ldquo;You I love, and you alone.&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+I read it, and asked him to lend me his ring, with which I wrote under it,
+thus&mdash;
+</p>
+
+<p class="poem">
+&ldquo;And so in love says every one.&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+He takes his ring again, and writes another line thus&mdash;
+</p>
+
+<p class="poem">
+&ldquo;Virtue alone is an estate.&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+I borrowed it again, and I wrote under it&mdash;
+</p>
+
+<p class="poem">
+&ldquo;But money&rsquo;s virtue, gold is fate.&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+He coloured as red as fire to see me turn so quick upon him, and in a kind of a
+rage told me he would conquer me, and writes again thus&mdash;
+</p>
+
+<p class="poem">
+&ldquo;I scorn your gold, and yet I love.&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+I ventured all upon the last cast of poetry, as you&rsquo;ll see, for I wrote
+boldly under his last&mdash;
+</p>
+
+<p class="poem">
+&ldquo;I&rsquo;m poor: let&rsquo;s see how kind you&rsquo;ll prove.&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+This was a sad truth to me; whether he believed me or no, I could not tell; I
+supposed then that he did not. However, he flew to me, took me in his arms,
+and, kissing me very eagerly, and with the greatest passion imaginable, he held
+me fast till he called for a pen and ink, and then told me he could not wait
+the tedious writing on the glass, but, pulling out a piece of paper, he began
+and wrote again&mdash;
+</p>
+
+<p class="poem">
+&ldquo;Be mine, with all your poverty.&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+I took his pen, and followed him immediately, thus&mdash;
+</p>
+
+<p class="poem">
+&ldquo;Yet secretly you hope I lie.&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+He told me that was unkind, because it was not just, and that I put him upon
+contradicting me, which did not consist with good manners, any more than with
+his affection; and therefore, since I had insensibly drawn him into this
+poetical scribble, he begged I would not oblige him to break it off; so he
+writes again&mdash;
+</p>
+
+<p class="poem">
+&ldquo;Let love alone be our debate.&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+I wrote again&mdash;
+</p>
+
+<p class="poem">
+&ldquo;She loves enough that does not hate.&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+This he took for a favour, and so laid down the cudgels, that is to say, the
+pen; I say, he took if for a favour, and a mighty one it was, if he had known
+all. However, he took it as I meant it, that is, to let him think I was
+inclined to go on with him, as indeed I had all the reason in the world to do,
+for he was the best-humoured, merry sort of a fellow that I ever met with, and
+I often reflected on myself how doubly criminal it was to deceive such a man;
+but that necessity, which pressed me to a settlement suitable to my condition,
+was my authority for it; and certainly his affection to me, and the goodness of
+his temper, however they might argue against using him ill, yet they strongly
+argued to me that he would better take the disappointment than some
+fiery-tempered wretch, who might have nothing to recommend him but those
+passions which would serve only to make a woman miserable all her days.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Besides, though I jested with him (as he supposed it) so often about my
+poverty, yet, when he found it to be true, he had foreclosed all manner of
+objection, seeing, whether he was in jest or in earnest, he had declared he
+took me without any regard to my portion, and, whether I was in jest or in
+earnest, I had declared myself to be very poor; so that, in a word, I had him
+fast both ways; and though he might say afterwards he was cheated, yet he could
+never say that I had cheated him.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+He pursued me close after this, and as I saw there was no need to fear losing
+him, I played the indifferent part with him longer than prudence might
+otherwise have dictated to me. But I considered how much this caution and
+indifference would give me the advantage over him, when I should come to be
+under the necessity of owning my own circumstances to him; and I managed it the
+more warily, because I found he inferred from thence, as indeed he ought to do,
+that I either had the more money or the more judgment, and would not venture at
+all.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+I took the freedom one day, after we had talked pretty close to the subject, to
+tell him that it was true I had received the compliment of a lover from him,
+namely, that he would take me without inquiring into my fortune, and I would
+make him a suitable return in this, viz. that I would make as little inquiry
+into his as consisted with reason, but I hoped he would allow me to ask a few
+questions, which he would answer or not as he thought fit; and that I would not
+be offended if he did not answer me at all; one of these questions related to
+our manner of living, and the place where, because I had heard he had a great
+plantation in Virginia, and that he had talked of going to live there, and I
+told him I did not care to be transported.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+He began from this discourse to let me voluntarily into all his affairs, and to
+tell me in a frank, open way all his circumstances, by which I found he was
+very well to pass in the world; but that great part of his estate consisted of
+three plantations, which he had in Virginia, which brought him in a very good
+income, generally speaking, to the tune of &pound;300, a year, but that if he
+was to live upon them, would bring him in four times as much. &ldquo;Very
+well,&rdquo; thought I; &ldquo;you shall carry me thither as soon as you
+please, though I won&rsquo;t tell you so beforehand.&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+I jested with him extremely about the figure he would make in Virginia; but I
+found he would do anything I desired, though he did not seem glad to have me
+undervalue his plantations, so I turned my tale. I told him I had good reason
+not to go there to live, because if his plantations were worth so much there, I
+had not a fortune suitable to a gentleman of &pound;1200 a year, as he said his
+estate would be.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+He replied generously, he did not ask what my fortune was; he had told me from
+the beginning he would not, and he would be as good as his word; but whatever
+it was, he assured me he would never desire me to go to Virginia with him, or
+go thither himself without me, unless I was perfectly willing, and made it my
+choice.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+All this, you may be sure, was as I wished, and indeed nothing could have
+happened more perfectly agreeable. I carried it on as far as this with a sort
+of indifferency that he often wondered at, more than at first, but which was
+the only support of his courtship; and I mention it the rather to intimate
+again to the ladies that nothing but want of courage for such an indifferency
+makes our sex so cheap, and prepares them to be ill-used as they are; would
+they venture the loss of a pretending fop now and then, who carries it high
+upon the point of his own merit, they would certainly be less slighted, and
+courted more. Had I discovered really and truly what my great fortune was, and
+that in all I had not full &pound;500 when he expected &pound;1500, yet I had
+hooked him so fast, and played him so long, that I was satisfied he would have
+had me in my worst circumstances; and indeed it was less a surprise to him when
+he learned the truth than it would have been, because having not the least
+blame to lay on me, who had carried it with an air of indifference to the last,
+he would not say one word, except that indeed he thought it had been more, but
+that if it had been less he did not repent his bargain; only that he should not
+be able to maintain me so well as he intended.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+In short, we were married, and very happily married on my side, I assure you,
+as to the man; for he was the best-humoured man that every woman had, but his
+circumstances were not so good as I imagined, as, on the other hand, he had not
+bettered himself by marrying so much as he expected.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+When we were married, I was shrewdly put to it to bring him that little stock I
+had, and to let him see it was no more; but there was a necessity for it, so I
+took my opportunity one day when we were alone, to enter into a short dialogue
+with him about it. &ldquo;My dear,&rdquo; said I, &ldquo;we have been married a
+fortnight; is it not time to let you know whether you have got a wife with
+something or with nothing?&rdquo; &ldquo;Your own time for that, my
+dear,&rdquo; says he; &ldquo;I am satisfied that I have got the wife I love; I
+have not troubled you much,&rdquo; says he, &ldquo;with my inquiry after
+it.&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;That&rsquo;s true,&rdquo; says I, &ldquo;but I have a great difficulty
+upon me about it, which I scarce know how to manage.&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;What&rsquo;s that, my dear?&rdquo; says he.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;Why,&rdquo; says I, &ldquo;&rsquo;tis a little hard upon me, and
+&rsquo;tis harder upon you. I am told that Captain &mdash;&mdash;&rdquo;
+(meaning my friend&rsquo;s husband) &ldquo;has told you I had a great deal more
+money than I ever pretended to have, and I am sure I never employed him to do
+so.&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;Well,&rdquo; says he, &ldquo;Captain &mdash;&mdash; may have told me so,
+but what then? If you have not so much, that may lie at his door, but you never
+told me what you had, so I have no reason to blame you if you have nothing at
+all.&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;That&rsquo;s is so just,&rdquo; said I, &ldquo;and so generous, that it
+makes my having but a little a double affliction to me.&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;The less you have, my dear,&rdquo; says he, &ldquo;the worse for us
+both; but I hope your affliction you speak of is not caused for fear I should
+be unkind to you, for want of a portion. No, no, if you have nothing, tell me
+plainly, and at once; I may perhaps tell the captain he has cheated me, but I
+can never say you have cheated me, for did you not give it under your hand that
+you were poor? and so I ought to expect you to be.&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;Well,&rdquo; said I, &ldquo;my dear, I am glad I have not been concerned
+in deceiving you before marriage. If I deceive you since, &rsquo;tis
+ne&rsquo;er the worse; that I am poor is too true, but not so poor as to have
+nothing neither&rdquo;; so I pulled out some bank bills, and gave him about
+&pound;160. &ldquo;There&rsquo;s something, my dear,&rdquo; said I, &ldquo;and
+not quite all neither.&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+I had brought him so near to expecting nothing, by what I had said before, that
+the money, though the sum was small in itself, was doubly welcome to him; he
+owned it was more than he looked for, and that he did not question by my
+discourse to him, but that my fine clothes, gold watch, and a diamond ring or
+two, had been all my fortune.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+I let him please himself with that &pound;160 two or three days, and then,
+having been abroad that day, and as if I had been to fetch it, I brought him
+&pound;100 more home in gold, and told him there was a little more portion for
+him; and, in short, in about a week more I brought him &pound;180 more, and
+about &pound;60 in linen, which I made him believe I had been obliged to take
+with the &pound;100 which I gave him in gold, as a composition for a debt of
+&pound;600, being little more than five shillings in the pound, and overvalued
+too.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;And now, my dear,&rdquo; says I to him, &ldquo;I am very sorry to tell
+you, that there is all, and that I have given you my whole fortune.&rdquo; I
+added, that if the person who had my &pound;600 had not abused me, I had been
+worth &pound;1000 to him, but that as it was, I had been faithful to him, and
+reserved nothing to myself, but if it had been more he should have had it.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+He was so obliged by the manner, and so pleased with the sum, for he had been
+in a terrible fright lest it had been nothing at all, that he accepted it very
+thankfully. And thus I got over the fraud of passing for a fortune without
+money, and cheating a man into marrying me on pretence of a fortune; which, by
+the way, I take to be one of the most dangerous steps a woman can take, and in
+which she runs the most hazard of being ill-used afterwards.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+My husband, to give him his due, was a man of infinite good nature, but he was
+no fool; and finding his income not suited to the manner of living which he had
+intended, if I had brought him what he expected, and being under a
+disappointment in his return of his plantations in Virginia, he discovered many
+times his inclination of going over to Virginia, to live upon his own; and
+often would be magnifying the way of living there, how cheap, how plentiful,
+how pleasant, and the like.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+I began presently to understand this meaning, and I took him up very plainly
+one morning, and told him that I did so; that I found his estate turned to no
+account at this distance, compared to what it would do if he lived upon the
+spot, and that I found he had a mind to go and live there; and I added, that I
+was sensible he had been disappointed in a wife, and that finding his
+expectations not answered that way, I could do no less, to make him amends,
+than tell him that I was very willing to go over to Virginia with him and live
+there.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+He said a thousand kind things to me upon the subject of my making such a
+proposal to him. He told me, that however he was disappointed in his
+expectations of a fortune, he was not disappointed in a wife, and that I was
+all to him that a wife could be, and he was more than satisfied on the whole
+when the particulars were put together, but that this offer was so kind, that
+it was more than he could express.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+To bring the story short, we agreed to go. He told me that he had a very good
+house there, that it was well furnished, that his mother was alive and lived in
+it, and one sister, which was all the relations he had; that as soon as he came
+there, his mother would remove to another house, which was her own for life,
+and his after her decease; so that I should have all the house to myself; and I
+found all this to be exactly as he had said.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+To make this part of the story short, we put on board the ship which we went
+in, a large quantity of good furniture for our house, with stores of linen and
+other necessaries, and a good cargo for sale, and away we went.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+To give an account of the manner of our voyage, which was long and full of
+dangers, is out of my way; I kept no journal, neither did my husband. All that
+I can say is, that after a terrible passage, frighted twice with dreadful
+storms, and once with what was still more terrible, I mean a pirate who came on
+board and took away almost all our provisions; and which would have been beyond
+all to me, they had once taken my husband to go along with them, but by
+entreaties were prevailed with to leave him;&mdash;I say, after all these
+terrible things, we arrived in York River in Virginia, and coming to our
+plantation, we were received with all the demonstrations of tenderness and
+affection, by my husband&rsquo;s mother, that were possible to be expressed.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+We lived here all together, my mother-in-law, at my entreaty, continuing in the
+house, for she was too kind a mother to be parted with; my husband likewise
+continued the same as at first, and I thought myself the happiest creature
+alive, when an odd and surprising event put an end to all that felicity in a
+moment, and rendered my condition the most uncomfortable, if not the most
+miserable, in the world.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+My mother was a mighty cheerful, good-humoured old woman&mdash;I may call her
+old woman, for her son was above thirty; I say she was very pleasant, good
+company, and used to entertain me, in particular, with abundance of stories to
+divert me, as well of the country we were in as of the people.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Among the rest, she often told me how the greatest part of the inhabitants of
+the colony came thither in very indifferent circumstances from England; that,
+generally speaking, they were of two sorts; either, first, such as were brought
+over by masters of ships to be sold as servants. &ldquo;Such as we call them,
+my dear,&rdquo; says she, &ldquo;but they are more properly called
+slaves.&rdquo; Or, secondly, such as are transported from Newgate and other
+prisons, after having been found guilty of felony and other crimes punishable
+with death.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;When they come here,&rdquo; says she, &ldquo;we make no difference; the
+planters buy them, and they work together in the field till their time is out.
+When &rsquo;tis expired,&rdquo; said she, &ldquo;they have encouragement given
+them to plant for themselves; for they have a certain number of acres of land
+allotted them by the country, and they go to work to clear and cure the land,
+and then to plant it with tobacco and corn for their own use; and as the
+tradesmen and merchants will trust them with tools and clothes and other
+necessaries, upon the credit of their crop before it is grown, so they again
+plant every year a little more than the year before, and so buy whatever they
+want with the crop that is before them.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;Hence, child,&rdquo; says she, &ldquo;man a Newgate-bird becomes a great
+man, and we have,&rdquo; continued she, &ldquo;several justices of the peace,
+officers of the trained bands, and magistrates of the towns they live in, that
+have been burnt in the hand.&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+She was going on with that part of the story, when her own part in it
+interrupted her, and with a great deal of good-humoured confidence she told me
+she was one of the second sort of inhabitants herself; that she came away
+openly, having ventured too far in a particular case, so that she was become a
+criminal. &ldquo;And here&rsquo;s the mark of it, child,&rdquo; says she; and,
+pulling off her glove, &ldquo;look ye here,&rdquo; says she, turning up the
+palm of her hand, and showed me a very fine white arm and hand, but branded in
+the inside of the hand, as in such cases it must be.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+This story was very moving to me, but my mother, smiling, said, &ldquo;You need
+not think a thing strange, daughter, for as I told you, some of the best men in
+this country are burnt in the hand, and they are not ashamed to own it.
+There&rsquo;s Major &mdash;&mdash;,&rdquo; says she, &ldquo;he was an eminent
+pickpocket; there&rsquo;s Justice Ba&mdash;&mdash;r, was a shoplifter, and both
+of them were burnt in the hand; and I could name you several such as they
+are.&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+We had frequent discourses of this kind, and abundance of instances she gave me
+of the like. After some time, as she was telling some stories of one that was
+transported but a few weeks ago, I began in an intimate kind of way to ask her
+to tell me something of her own story, which she did with the utmost plainness
+and sincerity; how she had fallen into very ill company in London in her young
+days, occasioned by her mother sending her frequently to carry victuals and
+other relief to a kinswoman of hers who was a prisoner in Newgate, and who lay
+in a miserable starving condition, was afterwards condemned to be hanged, but
+having got respite by pleading her belly, dies afterwards in the prison.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Here my mother-in-law ran out in a long account of the wicked practices in that
+dreadful place, and how it ruined more young people than all the town besides.
+&ldquo;And child,&rdquo; says my mother, &ldquo;perhaps you may know little of
+it, or, it may be, have heard nothing about it; but depend upon it,&rdquo; says
+she, &ldquo;we all know here that there are more thieves and rogues made by
+that one prison of Newgate than by all the clubs and societies of villains in
+the nation; &rsquo;tis that cursed place,&rdquo; says my mother, &ldquo;that
+half peopled this colony.&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Here she went on with her own story so long, and in so particular a manner,
+that I began to be very uneasy; but coming to one particular that required
+telling her name, I thought I should have sunk down in the place. She perceived
+I was out of order, and asked me if I was not well, and what ailed me. I told
+her I was so affected with the melancholy story she had told, and the terrible
+things she had gone through, that it had overcome me, and I begged of her to
+talk no more of it. &ldquo;Why, my dear,&rdquo; says she very kindly,
+&ldquo;what need these things trouble you? These passages were long before your
+time, and they give me no trouble at all now; nay, I look back on them with a
+particular satisfaction, as they have been a means to bring me to this
+place.&rdquo; Then she went on to tell me how she very luckily fell into a good
+family, where, behaving herself well, and her mistress dying, her master
+married her, by whom she had my husband and his sister, and that by her
+diligence and good management after her husband&rsquo;s death, she had improved
+the plantations to such a degree as they then were, so that most of the estate
+was of her getting, not her husband&rsquo;s, for she had been a widow upwards
+of sixteen years.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+I heard this part of the story with very little attention, because I wanted
+much to retire and give vent to my passions, which I did soon after; and let
+any one judge what must be the anguish of my mind, when I came to reflect that
+this was certainly no more or less than my own mother, and I had now had two
+children, and was big with another by my own brother, and lay with him still
+every night.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+I was now the most unhappy of all women in the world. Oh! had the story never
+been told me, all had been well; it had been no crime to have lain with my
+husband, since as to his being my relation I had known nothing of it.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+I had now such a load on my mind that it kept me perpetually waking; to reveal
+it, which would have been some ease to me, I could not find would be to any
+purpose, and yet to conceal it would be next to impossible; nay, I did not
+doubt but I should talk of it in my sleep, and tell my husband of it whether I
+would or no. If I discovered it, the least thing I could expect was to lose my
+husband, for he was too nice and too honest a man to have continued my husband
+after he had known I had been his sister; so that I was perplexed to the last
+degree.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+I leave it to any man to judge what difficulties presented to my view. I was
+away from my native country, at a distance prodigious, and the return to me
+unpassable. I lived very well, but in a circumstance insufferable in itself. If
+I had discovered myself to my mother, it might be difficult to convince her of
+the particulars, and I had no way to prove them. On the other hand, if she had
+questioned or doubted me, I had been undone, for the bare suggestion would have
+immediately separated me from my husband, without gaining my mother or him, who
+would have been neither a husband nor a brother; so that between the surprise
+on one hand, and the uncertainty on the other, I had been sure to be undone.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+In the meantime, as I was but too sure of the fact, I lived therefore in open
+avowed incest and whoredom, and all under the appearance of an honest wife; and
+though I was not much touched with the crime of it, yet the action had
+something in it shocking to nature, and made my husband, as he thought himself,
+even nauseous to me.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+However, upon the most sedate consideration, I resolved that it was absolutely
+necessary to conceal it all and not make the least discovery of it either to
+mother or husband; and thus I lived with the greatest pressure imaginable for
+three years more, but had no more children.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+During this time my mother used to be frequently telling me old stories of her
+former adventures, which, however, were no ways pleasant to me; for by it,
+though she did not tell it me in plain terms, yet I could easily understand,
+joined with what I had heard myself, of my first tutors, that in her younger
+days she had been both whore and thief; but I verily believed she had lived to
+repent sincerely of both, and that she was then a very pious, sober, and
+religious woman.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Well, let her life have been what it would then, it was certain that my life
+was very uneasy to me; for I lived, as I have said, but in the worst sort of
+whoredom, and as I could expect no good of it, so really no good issue came of
+it, and all my seeming prosperity wore off, and ended in misery and
+destruction. It was some time, indeed, before it came to this, for, but I know
+not by what ill fate guided, everything went wrong with us afterwards, and that
+which was worse, my husband grew strangely altered, forward, jealous, and
+unkind, and I was as impatient of bearing his carriage, as the carriage was
+unreasonable and unjust. These things proceeded so far, that we came at last to
+be in such ill terms with one another, that I claimed a promise of him, which
+he entered willingly into with me when I consented to come from England with
+him, viz. that if I found the country not to agree with me, or that I did not
+like to live there, I should come away to England again when I pleased, giving
+him a year&rsquo;s warning to settle his affairs.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+I say, I now claimed this promise of him, and I must confess I did it not in
+the most obliging terms that could be in the world neither; but I insisted that
+he treated me ill, that I was remote from my friends, and could do myself no
+justice, and that he was jealous without cause, my conversation having been
+unblamable, and he having no pretense for it, and that to remove to England
+would take away all occasion from him.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+I insisted so peremptorily upon it, that he could not avoid coming to a point,
+either to keep his word with me or to break it; and this, notwithstanding he
+used all the skill he was master of, and employed his mother and other agents
+to prevail with me to alter my resolutions; indeed, the bottom of the thing lay
+at my heart, and that made all his endeavours fruitless, for my heart was
+alienated from him as a husband. I loathed the thoughts of bedding with him,
+and used a thousand pretenses of illness and humour to prevent his touching me,
+fearing nothing more than to be with child by him, which to be sure would have
+prevented, or at least delayed, my going over to England.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+However, at last I put him so out of humour, that he took up a rash and fatal
+resolution; in short, I should not go to England; and though he had promised
+me, yet it was an unreasonable thing for me to desire it; that it would be
+ruinous to his affairs, would unhinge his whole family, and be next to an
+undoing him in the world; that therefore I ought not to desire it of him, and
+that no wife in the world that valued her family and her husband&rsquo;s
+prosperity would insist upon such a thing.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+This plunged me again, for when I considered the thing calmly, and took my
+husband as he really was, a diligent, careful man in the main work of laying up
+an estate for his children, and that he knew nothing of the dreadful
+circumstances that he was in, I could not but confess to myself that my
+proposal was very unreasonable, and what no wife that had the good of her
+family at heart would have desired.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+But my discontents were of another nature; I looked upon him no longer as a
+husband, but as a near relation, the son of my own mother, and I resolved
+somehow or other to be clear of him, but which way I did not know, nor did it
+seem possible.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+It is said by the ill-natured world, of our sex, that if we are set on a thing,
+it is impossible to turn us from our resolutions; in short, I never ceased
+poring upon the means to bring to pass my voyage, and came that length with my
+husband at last, as to propose going without him. This provoked him to the last
+degree, and he called me not only an unkind wife, but an unnatural mother, and
+asked me how I could entertain such a thought without horror, as that of
+leaving my two children (for one was dead) without a mother, and to be brought
+up by strangers, and never to see them more. It was true, had things been
+right, I should not have done it, but now it was my real desire never to see
+them, or him either, any more; and as to the charge of unnatural, I could
+easily answer it to myself, while I knew that the whole relation was unnatural
+in the highest degree in the world.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+However, it was plain there was no bringing my husband to anything; he would
+neither go with me nor let me go without him, and it was quite out of my power
+to stir without his consent, as any one that knows the constitution of the
+country I was in, knows very well.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+We had many family quarrels about it, and they began in time to grow up to a
+dangerous height; for as I was quite estranged from my husband (as he was
+called) in affection, so I took no heed to my words, but sometimes gave him
+language that was provoking; and, in short, strove all I could to bring him to
+a parting with me, which was what above all things in the world I desired most.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+He took my carriage very ill, and indeed he might well do so, for at last I
+refused to bed with him, and carrying on the breach upon all occasions to
+extremity, he told me once he thought I was mad, and if I did not alter my
+conduct, he would put me under cure; that is to say, into a madhouse. I told
+him he should find I was far enough from mad, and that it was not in his power,
+or any other villain&rsquo;s, to murder me. I confess at the same time I was
+heartily frighted at his thoughts of putting me into a madhouse, which would at
+once have destroyed all the possibility of breaking the truth out, whatever the
+occasion might be; for that then no one would have given credit to a word of
+it.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+This therefore brought me to a resolution, whatever came of it, to lay open my
+whole case; but which way to do it, or to whom, was an inextricable difficulty,
+and took me many months to resolve. In the meantime, another quarrel with my
+husband happened, which came up to such a mad extreme as almost pushed me on to
+tell it him all to his face; but though I kept it in so as not to come to the
+particulars, I spoke so much as put him into the utmost confusion, and in the
+end brought out the whole story.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+He began with a calm expostulation upon my being so resolute to go to England;
+I defended it, and one hard word bringing on another, as is usual in all family
+strife, he told me I did not treat him as if he was my husband, or talk of my
+children as if I was a mother; and, in short, that I did not deserve to be used
+as a wife; that he had used all the fair means possible with me; that he had
+argued with all the kindness and calmness that a husband or a Christian ought
+to do, and that I made him such a vile return, that I treated him rather like a
+dog than a man, and rather like the most contemptible stranger than a husband;
+that he was very loth to use violence with me, but that, in short, he saw a
+necessity of it now, and that for the future he should be obliged to take such
+measures as should reduce me to my duty.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+My blood was now fired to the utmost, though I knew what he had said was very
+true, and nothing could appear more provoked. I told him, for his fair means
+and his foul, they were equally contemned by me; that for my going to England,
+I was resolved on it, come what would; and that as to treating him not like a
+husband, and not showing myself a mother to my children, there might be
+something more in it than he understood at present; but, for his further
+consideration, I thought fit to tell him thus much, that he neither was my
+lawful husband, nor they lawful children, and that I had reason to regard
+neither of them more than I did.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+I confess I was moved to pity him when I spoke it, for he turned pale as death,
+and stood mute as one thunderstruck, and once or twice I thought he would have
+fainted; in short, it put him in a fit something like an apoplex; he trembled,
+a sweat or dew ran off his face, and yet he was cold as a clod, so that I was
+forced to run and fetch something for him to keep life in him. When he
+recovered of that, he grew sick and vomited, and in a little after was put to
+bed, and the next morning was, as he had been indeed all night, in a violent
+fever.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+However, it went off again, and he recovered, though but slowly, and when he
+came to be a little better, he told me I had given him a mortal wound with my
+tongue, and he had only one thing to ask before he desired an explanation. I
+interrupted him, and told him I was sorry I had gone so far, since I saw what
+disorder it put him into, but I desired him not to talk to me of explanations,
+for that would but make things worse.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+This heightened his impatience, and, indeed, perplexed him beyond all bearing;
+for now he began to suspect that there was some mystery yet unfolded, but could
+not make the least guess at the real particulars of it; all that ran in his
+brain was, that I had another husband alive, which I could not say in fact
+might not be true, but I assured him, however, there was not the least of that
+in it; and indeed, as to my other husband, he was effectually dead in law to
+me, and had told me I should look on him as such, so I had not the least
+uneasiness on that score.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+But now I found the thing too far gone to conceal it much longer, and my
+husband himself gave me an opportunity to ease myself of the secret, much to my
+satisfaction. He had laboured with me three or four weeks, but to no purpose,
+only to tell him whether I had spoken these words only as the effect of my
+passion, to put him in a passion, or whether there was anything of truth in the
+bottom of them. But I continued inflexible, and would explain nothing, unless
+he would first consent to my going to England, which he would never do, he
+said, while he lived; on the other hand, I said it was in my power to make him
+willing when I pleased&mdash;nay, to make him entreat me to go; and this
+increased his curiosity, and made him importunate to the highest degree, but it
+was all to no purpose.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+At length he tells all this story to his mother, and sets her upon me to get
+the main secret out of me, and she used her utmost skill with me indeed; but I
+put her to a full stop at once by telling her that the reason and mystery of
+the whole matter lay in herself, and that it was my respect to her that had
+made me conceal it; and that, in short, I could go no farther, and therefore
+conjured her not to insist upon it.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+She was struck dumb at this suggestion, and could not tell what to say or to
+think; but, laying aside the supposition as a policy of mine, continued her
+importunity on account of her son, and, if possible, to make up the breach
+between us two. As to that, I told her that it was indeed a good design in her,
+but that it was impossible to be done; and that if I should reveal to her the
+truth of what she desired, she would grant it to be impossible, and cease to
+desire it. At last I seemed to be prevailed on by her importunity, and told her
+I dared trust her with a secret of the greatest importance, and she would soon
+see that this was so, and that I would consent to lodge it in her breast, if
+she would engage solemnly not to acquaint her son with it without my consent.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+She was long in promising this part, but rather than not come at the main
+secret, she agreed to that too, and after a great many other preliminaries, I
+began, and told her the whole story. First I told her how much she was
+concerned in all the unhappy breach which had happened between her son and me,
+by telling me her own story and her London name; and that the surprise she saw
+I was in was upon that occasion. Then I told her my own story, and my name, and
+assured her, by such other tokens as she could not deny, that I was no other,
+nor more or less, than her own child, her daughter, born of her body in
+Newgate; the same that had saved her from the gallows by being in her belly,
+and the same that she left in such-and-such hands when she was transported.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+It is impossible to express the astonishment she was in; she was not inclined
+to believe the story, or to remember the particulars, for she immediately
+foresaw the confusion that must follow in the family upon it. But everything
+concurred so exactly with the stories she had told me of herself, and which, if
+she had not told me, she would perhaps have been content to have denied, that
+she had stopped her own mouth, and she had nothing to do but to take me about
+the neck and kiss me, and cry most vehemently over me, without speaking one
+word for a long time together. At last she broke out: &ldquo;Unhappy
+child!&rdquo; says she, &ldquo;what miserable chance could bring thee hither?
+and in the arms of my own son, too! Dreadful girl,&rdquo; says she, &ldquo;why,
+we are all undone! Married to thy own brother! Three children, and two alive,
+all of the same flesh and blood! My son and my daughter lying together as
+husband and wife! All confusion and distraction for ever! Miserable family!
+what will become of us? What is to be said? What is to be done?&rdquo; And thus
+she ran on for a great while; nor had I any power to speak, or if I had, did I
+know what to say, for every word wounded me to the soul. With this kind of
+amazement on our thoughts we parted for the first time, though my mother was
+more surprised than I was, because it was more news to her than to me. However,
+she promised again to me at parting, that she would say nothing of it to her
+son, till we had talked of it again.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+It was not long, you may be sure, before we had a second conference upon the
+same subject; when, as if she had been willing to forget the story she had told
+me of herself, or to suppose that I had forgot some of the particulars, she
+began to tell them with alterations and omissions; but I refreshed her memory
+and set her to rights in many things which I supposed she had forgot, and then
+came in so opportunely with the whole history, that it was impossible for her
+to go from it; and then she fell into her rhapsodies again, and exclamations at
+the severity of her misfortunes. When these things were a little over with her,
+we fell into a close debate about what should be first done before we gave an
+account of the matter to my husband. But to what purpose could be all our
+consultations? We could neither of us see our way through it, nor see how it
+could be safe to open such a scene to him. It was impossible to make any
+judgment, or give any guess at what temper he would receive it in, or what
+measures he would take upon it; and if he should have so little government of
+himself as to make it public, we easily foresaw that it would be the ruin of
+the whole family, and expose my mother and me to the last degree; and if at
+last he should take the advantage the law would give him, he might put me away
+with disdain and leave me to sue for the little portion that I had, and perhaps
+waste it all in the suit, and then be a beggar; the children would be ruined
+too, having no legal claim to any of his effects; and thus I should see him,
+perhaps, in the arms of another wife in a few months, and be myself the most
+miserable creature alive.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+My mother was as sensible of this as I; and, upon the whole, we knew not what
+to do. After some time we came to more sober resolutions, but then it was with
+this misfortune too, that my mother&rsquo;s opinion and mine were quite
+different from one another, and indeed inconsistent with one another; for my
+mother&rsquo;s opinion was, that I should bury the whole thing entirely, and
+continue to live with him as my husband till some other event should make the
+discovery of it more convenient; and that in the meantime she would endeavour
+to reconcile us together again, and restore our mutual comfort and family
+peace; that we might lie as we used to do together, and so let the whole matter
+remain a secret as close as death. &ldquo;For, child,&rdquo; says she,
+&ldquo;we are both undone if it comes out.&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+To encourage me to this, she promised to make me easy in my circumstances, as
+far as she was able, and to leave me what she could at her death, secured for
+me separately from my husband; so that if it should come out afterwards, I
+should not be left destitute, but be able to stand on my own feet and procure
+justice from him.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+This proposal did not agree at all with my judgment of the thing, though it was
+very fair and kind in my mother; but my thoughts ran quite another way.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+As to keeping the thing in our own breasts, and letting it all remain as it
+was, I told her it was impossible; and I asked her how she could think I could
+bear the thoughts of lying with my own brother. In the next place, I told her
+that her being alive was the only support of the discovery, and that while she
+owned me for her child, and saw reason to be satisfied that I was so, nobody
+else would doubt it; but that if she should die before the discovery, I should
+be taken for an impudent creature that had forged such a thing to go away from
+my husband, or should be counted crazed and distracted. Then I told her how he
+had threatened already to put me into a madhouse, and what concern I had been
+in about it, and how that was the thing that drove me to the necessity of
+discovering it to her as I had done.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+From all which I told her, that I had, on the most serious reflections I was
+able to make in the case, come to this resolution, which I hoped she would
+like, as a medium between both, viz. that she should use her endeavours with
+her son to give me leave to go to England, as I had desired, and to furnish me
+with a sufficient sum of money, either in goods along with me, or in bills for
+my support there, all along suggesting that he might one time or other think it
+proper to come over to me.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+That when I was gone, she should then, in cold blood, and after first obliging
+him in the solemnest manner possible to secrecy, discover the case to him,
+doing it gradually, and as her own discretion should guide her, so that he
+might not be surprised with it, and fly out into any passions and excesses on
+my account, or on hers; and that she should concern herself to prevent his
+slighting the children, or marrying again, unless he had a certain account of
+my being dead.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+This was my scheme, and my reasons were good; I was really alienated from him
+in the consequences of these things; indeed, I mortally hated him as a husband,
+and it was impossible to remove that riveted aversion I had to him. At the same
+time, it being an unlawful, incestuous living, added to that aversion, and
+though I had no great concern about it in point of conscience, yet everything
+added to make cohabiting with him the most nauseous thing to me in the world;
+and I think verily it was come to such a height, that I could almost as
+willingly have embraced a dog as have let him offer anything of that kind to
+me, for which reason I could not bear the thoughts of coming between the sheets
+with him. I cannot say that I was right in point of policy in carrying it such
+a length, while at the same time I did not resolve to discover the thing to
+him; but I am giving an account of what was, not of what ought or ought not to
+be.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+In their directly opposite opinion to one another my mother and I continued a
+long time, and it was impossible to reconcile our judgments; many disputes we
+had about it, but we could never either of us yield our own, or bring over the
+other.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+I insisted on my aversion to lying with my own brother, and she insisted upon
+its being impossible to bring him to consent to my going from him to England;
+and in this uncertainty we continued, not differing so as to quarrel, or
+anything like it, but so as not to be able to resolve what we should do to make
+up that terrible breach that was before us.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+At last I resolved on a desperate course, and told my mother my resolution,
+viz. that, in short, I would tell him of it myself. My mother was frighted to
+the last degree at the very thoughts of it; but I bid her be easy, told her I
+would do it gradually and softly, and with all the art and good-humour I was
+mistress of, and time it also as well as I could, taking him in good-humour
+too. I told her I did not question but, if I could be hypocrite enough to feign
+more affection to him than I really had, I should succeed in all my design, and
+we might part by consent, and with a good agreement, for I might live him well
+enough for a brother, though I could not for a husband.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+All this while he lay at my mother to find out, if possible, what was the
+meaning of that dreadful expression of mine, as he called it, which I mentioned
+before: namely, that I was not his lawful wife, nor my children his legal
+children. My mother put him off, told him she could bring me to no
+explanations, but found there was something that disturbed me very much, and
+she hoped she should get it out of me in time, and in the meantime recommended
+to him earnestly to use me more tenderly, and win me with his usual good
+carriage; told him of his terrifying and affrighting me with his threats of
+sending me to a madhouse, and the like, and advised him not to make a woman
+desperate on any account whatever.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+He promised her to soften his behaviour, and bid her assure me that he loved me
+as well as ever, and that he had no such design as that of sending me to a
+madhouse, whatever he might say in his passion; also he desired my mother to
+use the same persuasions to me too, that our affections might be renewed, and
+we might lie together in a good understanding as we used to do.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+I found the effects of this treaty presently. My husband&rsquo;s conduct was
+immediately altered, and he was quite another man to me; nothing could be
+kinder and more obliging than he was to me upon all occasions; and I could do
+no less than make some return to it, which I did as well as I could, but it was
+but in an awkward manner at best, for nothing was more frightful to me than his
+caresses, and the apprehensions of being with child again by him was ready to
+throw me into fits; and this made me see that there was an absolute necessity
+of breaking the case to him without any more delay, which, however, I did with
+all the caution and reserve imaginable.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+He had continued his altered carriage to me near a month, and we began to live
+a new kind of life with one another; and could I have satisfied myself to have
+gone on with it, I believe it might have continued as long as we had continued
+alive together. One evening, as we were sitting and talking very friendly
+together under a little awning, which served as an arbour at the entrance from
+our house into the garden, he was in a very pleasant, agreeable humour, and
+said abundance of kind things to me relating to the pleasure of our present
+good agreement, and the disorders of our past breach, and what a satisfaction
+it was to him that we had room to hope we should never have any more of it.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+I fetched a deep sigh, and told him there was nobody in the world could be more
+delighted than I was in the good agreement we had always kept up, or more
+afflicted with the breach of it, and should be so still; but I was sorry to
+tell him that there was an unhappy circumstance in our case, which lay too
+close to my heart, and which I knew not how to break to him, that rendered my
+part of it very miserable, and took from me all the comfort of the rest.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+He importuned me to tell him what it was. I told him I could not tell how to do
+it; that while it was concealed from him I alone was unhappy, but if he knew it
+also, we should be both so; and that, therefore, to keep him in the dark about
+it was the kindest thing that I could do, and it was on that account alone that
+I kept a secret from him, the very keeping of which, I thought, would first or
+last be my destruction.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+It is impossible to express his surprise at this relation, and the double
+importunity which he used with me to discover it to him. He told me I could not
+be called kind to him, nay, I could not be faithful to him if I concealed it
+from him. I told him I thought so too, and yet I could not do it. He went back
+to what I had said before to him, and told me he hoped it did not relate to
+what I had said in my passion, and that he had resolved to forget all that as
+the effect of a rash, provoked spirit. I told him I wished I could forget it
+all too, but that it was not to be done, the impression was too deep, and I
+could not do it: it was impossible.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+He then told me he was resolved not to differ with me in anything, and that
+therefore he would importune me no more about it, resolving to acquiesce in
+whatever I did or said; only begged I should then agree, that whatever it was,
+it should no more interrupt our quiet and our mutual kindness.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+This was the most provoking thing he could have said to me, for I really wanted
+his further importunities, that I might be prevailed with to bring out that
+which indeed it was like death to me to conceal; so I answered him plainly that
+I could not say I was glad not to be importuned, thought I could not tell how
+to comply. &ldquo;But come, my dear,&rdquo; said I, &ldquo;what conditions will
+you make with me upon the opening this affair to you?&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;Any conditions in the world,&rdquo; said he, &ldquo;that you can in
+reason desire of me.&rdquo; &ldquo;Well,&rdquo; said I, &ldquo;come, give it me
+under your hand, that if you do not find I am in any fault, or that I am
+willingly concerned in the causes of the misfortune that is to follow, you will
+not blame me, use me the worse, do me any injury, or make me be the sufferer
+for that which is not my fault.&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;That,&rdquo; says he, &ldquo;is the most reasonable demand in the world:
+not to blame you for that which is not your fault. Give me a pen and
+ink,&rdquo; says he; so I ran in and fetched a pen, ink, and paper, and he
+wrote the condition down in the very words I had proposed it, and signed it
+with his name. &ldquo;Well,&rdquo; says he, &ldquo;what is next, my
+dear?&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;Why,&rdquo; says I, &ldquo;the next is, that you will not blame me for
+not discovering the secret of it to you before I knew it.&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;Very just again,&rdquo; says he; &ldquo;with all my heart&rdquo;; so he
+wrote down that also, and signed it.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;Well, my dear,&rdquo; says I, &ldquo;then I have but one condition more
+to make with you, and that is, that as there is nobody concerned in it but you
+and I, you shall not discover it to any person in the world, except your own
+mother; and that in all the measures you shall take upon the discovery, as I am
+equally concerned in it with you, though as innocent as yourself, you shall do
+nothing in a passion, nothing to my prejudice or to your mother&rsquo;s
+prejudice, without my knowledge and consent.&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+This a little amazed him, and he wrote down the words distinctly, but read them
+over and over before he signed them, hesitating at them several times, and
+repeating them: &ldquo;My mother&rsquo;s prejudice! and your prejudice! What
+mysterious thing can this be?&rdquo; However, at last he signed it.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;Well,&rdquo; says I, &ldquo;my dear, I&rsquo;ll ask you no more under your
+hand; but as you are to hear the most unexpected and surprising thing that
+perhaps ever befell any family in the world, I beg you to promise me you will
+receive it with composure and a presence of mind suitable to a man of
+sense.&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;I&rsquo;ll do my utmost,&rdquo; says he, &ldquo;upon condition you will
+keep me no longer in suspense, for you terrify me with all these
+preliminaries.&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;Well, then,&rdquo; says I, &ldquo;it is this: as I told you before in a
+heat, that I was not your lawful wife, and that our children were not legal
+children, so I must let you know now in calmness and in kindness, but with
+affliction enough, that I am your own sister, and you my own brother, and that
+we are both the children of our mother now alive, and in the house, who is
+convinced of the truth of it, in a manner not to be denied or
+contradicted.&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+I saw him turn pale and look wild; and I said, &ldquo;Now remember your
+promise, and receive it with presence of mind; for who could have said more to
+prepare you for it than I have done?&rdquo; However, I called a servant, and
+got him a little glass of rum (which is the usual dram of that country), for he
+was just fainting away. When he was a little recovered, I said to him,
+&ldquo;This story, you may be sure, requires a long explanation, and therefore,
+have patience and compose your mind to hear it out, and I&rsquo;ll make it as
+short as I can&rdquo;; and with this, I told him what I thought was needful of
+the fact, and particularly how my mother came to discover it to me, as above.
+&ldquo;And now, my dear,&rdquo; says I, &ldquo;you will see reason for my
+capitulations, and that I neither have been the cause of this matter, nor could
+be so, and that I could know nothing of it before now.&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;I am fully satisfied of that,&rdquo; says he, &ldquo;but &rsquo;tis a
+dreadful surprise to me; however, I know a remedy for it all, and a remedy that
+shall put an end to your difficulties, without your going to England.&rdquo;
+&ldquo;That would be strange,&rdquo; said I, &ldquo;as all the rest.&rdquo;
+&ldquo;No, no,&rdquo; says he, &ldquo;I&rsquo;ll make it easy; there&rsquo;s
+nobody in the way of it but myself.&rdquo; He looked a little disordered when
+he said this, but I did not apprehend anything from it at that time, believing,
+as it used to be said, that they who do those things never talk of them, or
+that they who talk of such things never do them.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+But things were not come to their height with him, and I observed he became
+pensive and melancholy; and in a word, as I thought, a little distempered in
+his head. I endeavoured to talk him into temper, and to reason him into a kind
+of scheme for our government in the affair, and sometimes he would be well, and
+talk with some courage about it; but the weight of it lay too heavy upon his
+thoughts, and, in short, it went so far that he made attempts upon himself, and
+in one of them had actually strangled himself and had not his mother come into
+the room in the very moment, he had died; but with the help of a Negro servant
+she cut him down and recovered him.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Things were now come to a lamentable height in the family. My pity for him now
+began to revive that affection which at first I really had for him, and I
+endeavoured sincerely, by all the kind carriage I could, to make up the breach;
+but, in short, it had gotten too great a head, it preyed upon his spirits, and
+it threw him into a long, lingering consumption, though it happened not to be
+mortal. In this distress I did not know what to do, as his life was apparently
+declining, and I might perhaps have married again there, very much to my
+advantage; it had been certainly my business to have stayed in the country, but
+my mind was restless too, and uneasy; I hankered after coming to England, and
+nothing would satisfy me without it.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+In short, by an unwearied importunity, my husband, who was apparently decaying,
+as I observed, was at last prevailed with; and so my own fate pushing me on,
+the way was made clear for me, and my mother concurring, I obtained a very good
+cargo for my coming to England.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+When I parted with my brother (for such I am now to call him), we agreed that
+after I arrived he should pretend to have an account that I was dead in
+England, and so might marry again when he would. He promised, and engaged to me
+to correspond with me as a sister, and to assist and support me as long as I
+lived; and that if he died before me, he would leave sufficient to his mother
+to take care of me still, in the name of a sister, and he was in some respects
+careful of me, when he heard of me; but it was so oddly managed that I felt the
+disappointments very sensibly afterwards, as you shall hear in its time.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+I came away for England in the month of August, after I had been eight years in
+that country; and now a new scene of misfortunes attended me, which perhaps few
+women have gone through the life of.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+We had an indifferent good voyage till we came just upon the coast of England,
+and where we arrived in two-and-thirty days, but were then ruffled with two or
+three storms, one of which drove us away to the coast of Ireland, and we put in
+at Kinsdale. We remained there about thirteen days, got some refreshment on
+shore, and put to sea again, though we met with very bad weather again, in
+which the ship sprung her mainmast, as they called it, for I knew not what they
+meant. But we got at last into Milford Haven, in Wales, where, though it was
+remote from our port, yet having my foot safe upon the firm ground of my native
+country, the isle of Britain, I resolved to venture it no more upon the waters,
+which had been so terrible to me; so getting my clothes and money on shore,
+with my bills of loading and other papers, I resolved to come for London, and
+leave the ship to get to her port as she could; the port whither she was bound
+was to Bristol, where my brother&rsquo;s chief correspondent lived.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+I got to London in about three weeks, where I heard a little while after that
+the ship was arrived in Bristol, but at the same time had the misfortune to
+know that by the violent weather she had been in, and the breaking of her
+mainmast, she had great damage on board, and that a great part of her cargo was
+spoiled.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+I had now a new scene of life upon my hands, and a dreadful appearance it had.
+I was come away with a kind of final farewell. What I brought with me was
+indeed considerable, had it come safe, and by the help of it, I might have
+married again tolerably well; but as it was, I was reduced to between two or
+three hundred pounds in the whole, and this without any hope of recruit. I was
+entirely without friends, nay, even so much as without acquaintance, for I
+found it was absolutely necessary not to revive former acquaintances; and as
+for my subtle friend that set me up formerly for a fortune, she was dead, and
+her husband also; as I was informed, upon sending a person unknown to inquire.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+The looking after my cargo of goods soon after obliged me to take a journey to
+Bristol, and during my attendance upon that affair I took the diversion of
+going to the Bath, for as I was still far from being old, so my humour, which
+was always gay, continued so to an extreme; and being now, as it were, a woman
+of fortune though I was a woman without a fortune, I expected something or
+other might happen in my way that might mend my circumstances, as had been my
+case before.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+The Bath is a place of gallantry enough; expensive, and full of snares. I went
+thither, indeed, in the view of taking anything that might offer, but I must do
+myself justice, as to protest I knew nothing amiss; I meant nothing but in an
+honest way, nor had I any thoughts about me at first that looked the way which
+afterwards I suffered them to be guided.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Here I stayed the whole latter season, as it is called there, and contracted
+some unhappy acquaintances, which rather prompted the follies I fell afterwards
+into than fortified me against them. I lived pleasantly enough, kept good
+company, that is to say, gay, fine company; but had the discouragement to find
+this way of living sunk me exceedingly, and that as I had no settled income, so
+spending upon the main stock was but a certain kind of bleeding to death; and
+this gave me many sad reflections in the interval of my other thoughts.
+However, I shook them off, and still flattered myself that something or other
+might offer for my advantage.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+But I was in the wrong place for it. I was not now at Redriff, where, if I had
+set myself tolerably up, some honest sea captain or other might have talked
+with me upon the honourable terms of matrimony; but I was at the Bath, where
+men find a mistress sometimes, but very rarely look for a wife; and
+consequently all the particular acquaintances a woman can expect to make there
+must have some tendency that way.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+I had spent the first season well enough; for though I had contracted some
+acquaintance with a gentleman who came to the Bath for his diversion, yet I had
+entered into no felonious treaty, as it might be called. I had resisted some
+casual offers of gallantry, and had managed that way well enough. I was not
+wicked enough to come into the crime for the mere vice of it, and I had no
+extraordinary offers made me that tempted me with the main thing which I
+wanted.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+However, I went this length the first season, viz. I contracted an acquaintance
+with a woman in whose house I lodged, who, though she did not keep an ill
+house, as we call it, yet had none of the best principles in herself. I had on
+all occasions behaved myself so well as not to get the least slur upon my
+reputation on any account whatever, and all the men that I had conversed with
+were of so good reputation that I had not given the least reflection by
+conversing with them; nor did any of them seem to think there was room for a
+wicked correspondence, if they had any of them offered it; yet there was one
+gentleman, as above, who always singled me out for the diversion of my company,
+as he called it, which, as he was pleased to say, was very agreeable to him,
+but at that time there was no more in it.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+I had many melancholy hours at the Bath after the company was gone; for though
+I went to Bristol sometime for the disposing my effects, and for recruits of
+money, yet I chose to come back to Bath for my residence, because being on good
+terms with the woman in whose house I lodged in the summer, I found that during
+the winter I lived rather cheaper there than I could do anywhere else. Here, I
+say, I passed the winter as heavily as I had passed the autumn cheerfully; but
+having contracted a nearer intimacy with the said woman in whose house I
+lodged, I could not avoid communicating to her something of what lay hardest
+upon my mind and particularly the narrowness of my circumstances, and the loss
+of my fortune by the damage of my goods at sea. I told her also, that I had a
+mother and a brother in Virginia in good circumstances; and as I had really
+written back to my mother in particular to represent my condition, and the
+great loss I had received, which indeed came to almost &pound;500, so I did not
+fail to let my new friend know that I expected a supply from thence, and so
+indeed I did; and as the ships went from Bristol to York River, in Virginia,
+and back again generally in less time from London, and that my brother
+corresponded chiefly at Bristol, I thought it was much better for me to wait
+here for my returns than to go to London, where also I had not the least
+acquaintance.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+My new friend appeared sensibly affected with my condition, and indeed was so
+very kind as to reduce the rate of my living with her to so low a price during
+the winter, that she convinced me she got nothing by me; and as for lodging,
+during the winter I paid nothing at all.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+When the spring season came on, she continued to be as kind to me as she could,
+and I lodged with her for a time, till it was found necessary to do otherwise.
+She had some persons of character that frequently lodged in her house, and in
+particular the gentleman who, as I said, singled me out for his companion the
+winter before; and he came down again with another gentleman in his company and
+two servants, and lodged in the same house. I suspected that my landlady had
+invited him thither, letting him know that I was still with her; but she denied
+it, and protested to me that she did not, and he said the same.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+In a word, this gentleman came down and continued to single me out for his
+peculiar confidence as well as conversation. He was a complete gentleman, that
+must be confessed, and his company was very agreeable to me, as mine, if I
+might believe him, was to him. He made no professions to me but of an
+extraordinary respect, and he had such an opinion of my virtue, that, as he
+often professed, he believed if he should offer anything else, I should reject
+him with contempt. He soon understood from me that I was a widow; that I had
+arrived at Bristol from Virginia by the last ships; and that I waited at Bath
+till the next Virginia fleet should arrive, by which I expected considerable
+effects. I understood by him, and by others of him, that he had a wife, but
+that the lady was distempered in her head, and was under the conduct of her own
+relations, which he consented to, to avoid any reflections that might (as was
+not unusual in such cases) be cast on him for mismanaging her cure; and in the
+meantime he came to the Bath to divert his thoughts from the disturbance of
+such a melancholy circumstance as that was.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+My landlady, who of her own accord encouraged the correspondence on all
+occasions, gave me an advantageous character of him, as a man of honour and of
+virtue, as well as of great estate. And indeed I had a great deal of reason to
+say so of him too; for though we lodged both on a floor, and he had frequently
+come into my chamber, even when I was in bed, and I also into his when he was
+in bed, yet he never offered anything to me further than a kiss, or so much as
+solicited me to anything till long after, as you shall hear.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+I frequently took notice to my landlady of his exceeding modesty, and she again
+used to tell me, she believed it was so from the beginning; however, she used
+to tell me that she thought I ought to expect some gratification from him for
+my company, for indeed he did, as it were, engross me, and I was seldom from
+him. I told her I had not given him the least occasion to think I wanted it, or
+that I would accept of it from him. She told me she would take that part upon
+her, and she did so, and managed it so dexterously, that the first time we were
+together alone, after she had talked with him, he began to inquire a little
+into my circumstances, as how I had subsisted myself since I came on shore, and
+whether I did not want money. I stood off very boldly. I told him that though
+my cargo of tobacco was damaged, yet that it was not quite lost; that the
+merchant I had been consigned to had so honestly managed for me that I had not
+wanted, and that I hoped, with frugal management, I should make it hold out
+till more would come, which I expected by the next fleet; that in the meantime
+I had retrenched my expenses, and whereas I kept a maid last season, now I
+lived without; and whereas I had a chamber and a dining-room then on the first
+floor, as he knew, I now had but one room, two pair of stairs, and the like.
+&ldquo;But I live,&rdquo; said I, &ldquo;as well satisfied now as I did
+then&rdquo;; adding, that his company had been a means to make me live much
+more cheerfully than otherwise I should have done, for which I was much obliged
+to him; and so I put off all room for any offer for the present. However, it
+was not long before he attacked me again, and told me he found that I was
+backward to trust him with the secret of my circumstances, which he was sorry
+for; assuring me that he inquired into it with no design to satisfy his own
+curiosity, but merely to assist me, if there was any occasion; but since I
+would not own myself to stand in need of any assistance, he had but one thing
+more to desire of me, and that was, that I would promise him that when I was
+any way straitened, or like to be so, I would frankly tell him of it, and that
+I would make use of him with the same freedom that he made the offer; adding,
+that I should always find I had a true friend, though perhaps I was afraid to
+trust him.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+I omitted nothing that was fit to be said by one infinitely obliged, to let him
+know that I had a due sense of his kindness; and indeed from that time I did
+not appear so much reserved to him as I had done before, though still within
+the bounds of the strictest virtue on both sides; but how free soever our
+conversation was, I could not arrive to that sort of freedom which he desired,
+viz. to tell him I wanted money, though I was secretly very glad of his offer.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Some weeks passed after this, and still I never asked him for money; when my
+landlady, a cunning creature, who had often pressed me to it, but found that I
+could not do it, makes a story of her own inventing, and comes in bluntly to me
+when we were together. &ldquo;Oh, widow!&rdquo; says she, &ldquo;I have bad
+news to tell you this morning.&rdquo; &ldquo;What is that?&rdquo; said I;
+&ldquo;are the Virginia ships taken by the French?&rdquo;&mdash;for that was my
+fear. &ldquo;No, no,&rdquo; says she, &ldquo;but the man you sent to Bristol
+yesterday for money is come back, and says he has brought none.&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Now I could by no means like her project; I thought it looked too much like
+prompting him, which indeed he did not want, and I clearly saw that I should
+lose nothing by being backward to ask, so I took her up short. &ldquo;I
+can&rsquo;t image why he should say so to you,&rdquo; said I, &ldquo;for I
+assure you he brought me all the money I sent him for, and here it is,&rdquo;
+said I (pulling out my purse with about twelve guineas in it); and added,
+&ldquo;I intend you shall have most of it by and by.&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+He seemed distasted a little at her talking as she did at first, as well as I,
+taking it, as I fancied he would, as something forward of her; but when he saw
+me give such an answer, he came immediately to himself again. The next morning
+we talked of it again, when I found he was fully satisfied, and, smiling, said
+he hoped I would not want money and not tell him of it, and that I had promised
+him otherwise. I told him I had been very much dissatisfied at my
+landlady&rsquo;s talking so publicly the day before of what she had nothing to
+do with; but I supposed she wanted what I owed her, which was about eight
+guineas, which I had resolved to give her, and had accordingly given it her the
+same night she talked so foolishly.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+He was in a might good humour when he heard me say I had paid her, and it went
+off into some other discourse at that time. But the next morning, he having
+heard me up about my room before him, he called to me, and I answering, he
+asked me to come into his chamber. He was in bed when I came in, and he made me
+come and sit down on his bedside, for he said he had something to say to me
+which was of some moment. After some very kind expressions, he asked me if I
+would be very honest to him, and give a sincere answer to one thing he would
+desire of me. After some little cavil at the word &ldquo;sincere,&rdquo; and
+asking him if I had ever given him any answers which were not sincere, I
+promised him I would. Why, then, his request was, he said, to let him see my
+purse. I immediately put my hand into my pocket, and, laughing to him, pulled
+it out, and there was in it three guineas and a half. Then he asked me if there
+was all the money I had. I told him No, laughing again, not by a great deal.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Well, then, he said, he would have me promise to go and fetch him all the money
+I had, every farthing. I told him I would, and I went into my chamber and
+fetched him a little private drawer, where I had about six guineas more, and
+some silver, and threw it all down upon the bed, and told him there was all my
+wealth, honestly to a shilling. He looked a little at it, but did not tell it,
+and huddled it all into the drawer again, and then reaching his pocket, pulled
+out a key, and bade me open a little walnut-tree box he had upon the table, and
+bring him such a drawer, which I did. In which drawer there was a great deal of
+money in gold, I believe near two hundred guineas, but I knew not how much. He
+took the drawer, and taking my hand, made me put it in and take a whole
+handful. I was backward at that, but he held my hand hard in his hand, and put
+it into the drawer, and made me take out as many guineas almost as I could well
+take up at once.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+When I had done so, he made me put them into my lap, and took my little drawer,
+and poured out all my money among his, and bade me get me gone, and carry it
+all home into my own chamber.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+I relate this story the more particularly because of the good-humour there was
+in it, and to show the temper with which we conversed. It was not long after
+this but he began every day to find fault with my clothes, with my laces and
+headdresses, and, in a word, pressed me to buy better; which, by the way, I was
+willing enough to do, though I did not seem to be so, for I loved nothing in
+the world better than fine clothes. I told him I must housewife the money he
+had lent me, or else I should not be able to pay him again. He then told me, in
+a few words, that as he had a sincere respect for me, and knew my
+circumstances, he had not lent me that money, but given it me, and that he
+thought I had merited it from him by giving him my company so entirely as I had
+done. After this he made me take a maid, and keep house, and his friend that
+come with him to Bath being gone, he obliged me to diet him, which I did very
+willingly, believing, as it appeared, that I should lose nothing by it, nor did
+the woman of the house fail to find her account in it too.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+We had lived thus near three months, when the company beginning to wear away at
+the Bath, he talked of going away, and fain he would have me to go to London
+with him. I was not very easy in that proposal, not knowing what posture I was
+to live in there, or how he might use me. But while this was in debate he fell
+very sick; he had gone out to a place in Somersetshire, called Shepton, where
+he had some business and was there taken very ill, and so ill that he could not
+travel; so he sent his man back to Bath, to beg me that I would hire a coach
+and come over to him. Before he went, he had left all his money and other
+things of value with me, and what to do with them I did not know, but I secured
+them as well as I could, and locked up the lodgings and went to him, where I
+found him very ill indeed; however, I persuaded him to be carried in a litter
+to the Bath, where there was more help and better advice to be had.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+He consented, and I brought him to the Bath, which was about fifteen miles, as
+I remember. Here he continued very ill of a fever, and kept his bed five weeks,
+all which time I nursed him and tended him myself, as much and as carefully as
+if I had been his wife; indeed, if I had been his wife I could not have done
+more. I sat up with him so much and so often, that at last, indeed, he would
+not let me sit up any longer, and then I got a pallet-bed into his room, and
+lay in it just at his bed&rsquo;s feet.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+I was indeed sensibly affected with his condition, and with the apprehension of
+losing such a friend as he was, and was like to be to me, and I used to sit and
+cry by him many hours together. However, at last he grew better, and gave hopes
+that he would recover, as indeed he did, though very slowly.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Were it otherwise than what I am going to say, I should not be backward to
+disclose it, as it is apparent I have done in other cases in this account; but
+I affirm, that through all this conversation, abating the freedom of coming
+into the chamber when I or he was in bed, and abating the necessary offices of
+attending him night and day when he was sick, there had not passed the least
+immodest word or action between us. Oh that it had been so to the last!
+</p>
+
+<p>
+After some time he gathered strength and grew well apace, and I would have
+removed my pallet-bed, but he would not let me, till he was able to venture
+himself without anybody to sit up with him, and then I removed to my own
+chamber.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+He took many occasions to express his sense of my tenderness and concern for
+him; and when he grew quite well, he made me a present of fifty guineas for my
+care and, as he called it, for hazarding my life to save his.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+And now he made deep protestations of a sincere inviolable affection for me,
+but all along attested it to be with the utmost reserve for my virtue and his
+own. I told him I was fully satisfied of it. He carried it that length that he
+protested to me, that if he was naked in bed with me, he would as sacredly
+preserve my virtue as he would defend it if I was assaulted by a ravisher. I
+believed him, and told him I did so; but this did not satisfy him, he would, he
+said, wait for some opportunity to give me an undoubted testimony of it.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+It was a great while after this that I had occasion, on my own business, to go
+to Bristol, upon which he hired me a coach, and would go with me, and did so;
+and now indeed our intimacy increased. From Bristol he carried me to
+Gloucester, which was merely a journey of pleasure, to take the air; and here
+it was our hap to have no lodging in the inn but in one large chamber with two
+beds in it. The master of the house going up with us to show his rooms, and
+coming into that room, said very frankly to him, &ldquo;Sir, it is none of my
+business to inquire whether the lady be your spouse or no, but if not, you may
+lie as honestly in these two beds as if you were in two chambers,&rdquo; and
+with that he pulls a great curtain which drew quite across the room and
+effectually divided the beds. &ldquo;Well,&rdquo; says my friend, very readily,
+&ldquo;these beds will do, and as for the rest, we are too near akin to lie
+together, though we may lodge near one another&rdquo;; and this put an honest
+face on the thing too. When we came to go to bed, he decently went out of the
+room till I was in bed, and then went to bed in the bed on his own side of the
+room, but lay there talking to me a great while.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+At last, repeating his usual saying, that he could lie naked in the bed with me
+and not offer me the least injury, he starts out of his bed. &ldquo;And now, my
+dear,&rdquo; says he, &ldquo;you shall see how just I will be to you, and that
+I can keep my word,&rdquo; and away he comes to my bed.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+I resisted a little, but I must confess I should not have resisted him much if
+he had not made those promises at all; so after a little struggle, as I said, I
+lay still and let him come to bed. When he was there he took me in his arms,
+and so I lay all night with him, but he had no more to do with me, or offered
+anything to me, other than embracing me, as I say, in his arms, no, not the
+whole night, but rose up and dressed him in the morning, and left me as
+innocent for him as I was the day I was born.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+This was a surprising thing to me, and perhaps may be so to others, who know
+how the laws of nature work; for he was a strong, vigorous, brisk person; nor
+did he act thus on a principle of religion at all, but of mere affection;
+insisting on it, that though I was to him the most agreeable woman in the
+world, yet, because he loved me, he could not injure me.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+I own it was a noble principle, but as it was what I never understood before,
+so it was to me perfectly amazing. We traveled the rest of the journey as we
+did before, and came back to the Bath, where, as he had opportunity to come to
+me when he would, he often repeated the moderation, and I frequently lay with
+him, and he with me, and although all the familiarities between man and wife
+were common to us, yet he never once offered to go any farther, and he valued
+himself much upon it. I do not say that I was so wholly pleased with it as he
+thought I was, for I own much wickeder than he, as you shall hear presently.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+We lived thus near two years, only with this exception, that he went three
+times to London in that time, and once he continued there four months; but, to
+do him justice, he always supplied me with money to subsist me very handsomely.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Had we continued thus, I confess we had had much to boast of; but as wise men
+say, it is ill venturing too near the brink of a command, so we found it; and
+here again I must do him the justice to own that the first breach was not on
+his part. It was one night that we were in bed together warm and merry, and
+having drunk, I think, a little more wine that night, both of us, than usual,
+although not in the least to disorder either of us, when, after some other
+follies which I cannot name, and being clasped close in his arms, I told him (I
+repeat it with shame and horror of soul) that I could find in my heart to
+discharge him of his engagement for one night and no more.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+He took me at my word immediately, and after that there was no resisting him;
+neither indeed had I any mind to resist him any more, let what would come of
+it.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Thus the government of our virtue was broken, and I exchanged the place of
+friend for that unmusical, harsh-sounding title of whore. In the morning we
+were both at our penitentials; I cried very heartily, he expressed himself very
+sorry; but that was all either of us could do at that time, and the way being
+thus cleared, and the bars of virtue and conscience thus removed, we had the
+less difficult afterwards to struggle with.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+It was but a dull kind of conversation that we had together for all the rest of
+that week; I looked on him with blushes, and every now and then started that
+melancholy objection, &ldquo;What if I should be with child now? What will
+become of me then?&rdquo; He encouraged me by telling me, that as long as I was
+true to him, he would be so to me; and since it was gone such a length (which
+indeed he never intended), yet if I was with child, he would take care of that,
+and of me too. This hardened us both. I assured him if I was with child, I
+would die for want of a midwife rather than name him as the father of it; and
+he assured me I should never want if I should be with child. These mutual
+assurances hardened us in the thing, and after this we repeated the crime as
+often as we pleased, till at length, as I had feared, so it came to pass, and I
+was indeed with child.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+After I was sure it was so, and I had satisfied him of it too, we began to
+think of taking measures for the managing it, and I proposed trusting the
+secret to my landlady, and asking her advice, which he agreed to. My landlady,
+a woman (as I found) used to such things, made light of it; she said she knew
+it would come to that at last, and made us very merry about it. As I said
+above, we found her an experienced old lady at such work; she undertook
+everything, engaged to procure a midwife and a nurse, to satisfy all inquiries,
+and bring us off with reputation, and she did so very dexterously indeed.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+When I grew near my time she desired my gentleman to go away to London, or make
+as if he did so. When he was gone, she acquainted the parish officers that
+there was a lady ready to lie in at her house, but that she knew her husband
+very well, and gave them, as she pretended, an account of his name, which she
+called Sir Walter Cleve; telling them he was a very worthy gentleman, and that
+she would answer for all inquiries, and the like. This satisfied the parish
+officers presently, and I lay in with as much credit as I could have done if I
+had really been my Lady Cleve, and was assisted in my travail by three or four
+of the best citizens&rsquo; wives of Bath who lived in the neighbourhood,
+which, however, made me a little the more expensive to him. I often expressed
+my concern to him about it, but he bid me not be concerned at it.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+As he had furnished me very sufficiently with money for the extraordinary
+expenses of my lying in, I had everything very handsome about me, but did not
+affect to be gay or extravagant neither; besides, knowing my own circumstances,
+and knowing the world as I had done, and that such kind of things do not often
+last long, I took care to lay up as much money as I could for a wet day, as I
+called it; making him believe it was all spent upon the extraordinary
+appearance of things in my lying in.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+By this means, and including what he had given me as above, I had at the end of
+my lying in about two hundred guineas by me, including also what was left of my
+own.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+I was brought to bed of a fine boy indeed, and a charming child it was; and
+when he heard of it he wrote me a very kind, obliging letter about it, and then
+told me, he thought it would look better for me to come away for London as soon
+as I was up and well; that he had provided apartments for me at Hammersmith, as
+if I came thither only from London; and that after a little while I should go
+back to the Bath, and he would go with me.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+I liked this offer very well, and accordingly hired a coach on purpose, and
+taking my child, and a wet-nurse to tend and suckle it, and a maid-servant with
+me, away I went for London.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+He met me at Reading in his own chariot, and taking me into that, left the
+servant and the child in the hired coach, and so he brought me to my new
+lodgings at Hammersmith; with which I had abundance of reason to be very well
+pleased, for they were very handsome rooms, and I was very well accommodated.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+And now I was indeed in the height of what I might call my prosperity, and I
+wanted nothing but to be a wife, which, however, could not be in this case,
+there was no room for it; and therefore on all occasions I studied to save what
+I could, as I have said above, against a time of scarcity, knowing well enough
+that such things as these do not always continue; that men that keep mistresses
+often change them, grow weary of them, or jealous of them, or something or
+other happens to make them withdraw their bounty; and sometimes the ladies that
+are thus well used are not careful by a prudent conduct to preserve the esteem
+of their persons, or the nice article of their fidelity, and then they are
+justly cast off with contempt.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+But I was secured in this point, for as I had no inclination to change, so I
+had no manner of acquaintance in the whole house, and so no temptation to look
+any farther. I kept no company but in the family when I lodged, and with the
+clergyman&rsquo;s lady at next door; so that when he was absent I visited
+nobody, nor did he ever find me out of my chamber or parlour whenever he came
+down; if I went anywhere to take the air, it was always with him.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+The living in this manner with him, and his with me, was certainly the most
+undesigned thing in the world; he often protested to me, that when he became
+first acquainted with me, and even to the very night when we first broke in
+upon our rules, he never had the least design of lying with me; that he always
+had a sincere affection for me, but not the least real inclination to do what
+he had done. I assured him I never suspected him; that if I had I should not so
+easily have yielded to the freedom which brought it on, but that it was all a
+surprise, and was owing to the accident of our having yielded too far to our
+mutual inclinations that night; and indeed I have often observed since, and
+leave it as a caution to the readers of this story, that we ought to be
+cautious of gratifying our inclinations in loose and lewd freedoms, lest we
+find our resolutions of virtue fail us in the junction when their assistance
+should be most necessary.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+It is true, and I have confessed it before, that from the first hour I began to
+converse with him, I resolved to let him lie with me, if he offered it; but it
+was because I wanted his help and assistance, and I knew no other way of
+securing him than that. But when we were that night together, and, as I have
+said, had gone such a length, I found my weakness; the inclination was not to
+be resisted, but I was obliged to yield up all even before he asked it.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+However, he was so just to me that he never upbraided me with that; nor did he
+ever express the least dislike of my conduct on any other occasion, but always
+protested he was as much delighted with my company as he was the first hour we
+came together: I mean, came together as bedfellows.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+It is true that he had no wife, that is to say, she was as no wife to him, and
+so I was in no danger that way, but the just reflections of conscience
+oftentimes snatch a man, especially a man of sense, from the arms of a
+mistress, as it did him at last, though on another occasion.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+On the other hand, though I was not without secret reproaches of my own
+conscience for the life I led, and that even in the greatest height of the
+satisfaction I ever took, yet I had the terrible prospect of poverty and
+starving, which lay on me as a frightful spectre, so that there was no looking
+behind me. But as poverty brought me into it, so fear of poverty kept me in it,
+and I frequently resolved to leave it quite off, if I could but come to lay up
+money enough to maintain me. But these were thoughts of no weight, and whenever
+he came to me they vanished; for his company was so delightful, that there was
+no being melancholy when he was there; the reflections were all the subject of
+those hours when I was alone.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+I lived six years in this happy but unhappy condition, in which time I brought
+him three children, but only the first of them lived; and though I removed
+twice in those six years, yet I came back the sixth year to my first lodgings
+at Hammersmith. Here it was that I was one morning surprised with a kind but
+melancholy letter from my gentleman, intimating that he was very ill, and was
+afraid he should have another fit of sickness, but that his wife&rsquo;s
+relations being in the house with him, it would not be practicable to have me
+with him, which, however, he expressed his great dissatisfaction in, and that
+he wished I could be allowed to tend and nurse him as I did before.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+I was very much concerned at this account, and was very impatient to know how
+it was with him. I waited a fortnight or thereabouts, and heard nothing, which
+surprised me, and I began to be very uneasy indeed. I think, I may say, that
+for the next fortnight I was near to distracted. It was my particular
+difficulty that I did not know directly where he was; for I understood at first
+he was in the lodgings of his wife&rsquo;s mother; but having removed myself to
+London, I soon found, by the help of the direction I had for writing my letters
+to him, how to inquire after him, and there I found that he was at a house in
+Bloomsbury, whither he had, a little before he fell sick, removed his whole
+family; and that his wife and wife&rsquo;s mother were in the same house,
+though the wife was not suffered to know that she was in the same house with
+her husband.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Here I also soon understood that he was at the last extremity, which made me
+almost at the last extremity too, to have a true account. One night I had the
+curiosity to disguise myself like a servant-maid, in a round cap and straw hat,
+and went to the door, as sent by a lady of his neighbourhood, where he lived
+before, and giving master and mistress&rsquo;s service, I said I was sent to
+know how Mr. &mdash;&mdash; did, and how he had rested that night. In
+delivering this message I got the opportunity I desired; for, speaking with one
+of the maids, I held a long gossip&rsquo;s tale with her, and had all the
+particulars of his illness, which I found was a pleurisy, attended with a cough
+and a fever. She told me also who was in the house, and how his wife was, who,
+by her relation, they were in some hopes might recover her understanding; but
+as to the gentleman himself, in short she told me the doctors said there was
+very little hopes of him, that in the morning they thought he had been dying,
+and that he was but little better then, for they did not expect that he could
+live over the next night.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+This was heavy news for me, and I began now to see an end of my prosperity, and
+to see also that it was very well I had played to good housewife, and secured
+or saved something while he was alive, for that now I had no view of my own
+living before me.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+It lay very heavy upon my mind, too, that I had a son, a fine lovely boy, about
+five years old, and no provision made for it, at least that I knew of. With
+these considerations, and a sad heart, I went home that evening, and began to
+cast with myself how I should live, and in what manner to bestow myself, for
+the residue of my life.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+You may be sure I could not rest without inquiring again very quickly what was
+become of him; and not venturing to go myself, I sent several sham messengers,
+till after a fortnight&rsquo;s waiting longer, I found that there was hopes of
+his life, though he was still very ill; then I abated my sending any more to
+the house, and in some time after I learned in the neighbourhood that he was
+about house, and then that he was abroad again.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+I made no doubt then but that I should soon hear of him, and began to comfort
+myself with my circumstances being, as I thought, recovered. I waited a week,
+and two weeks, and with much surprise and amazement I waited near two months
+and heard nothing, but that, being recovered, he was gone into the country for
+the air, and for the better recovery after his distemper. After this it was yet
+two months more, and then I understood he was come to his city house again, but
+still I heard nothing from him.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+I had written several letters for him, and directed them as usual, and found
+two or three of them had been called for, but not the rest. I wrote again in a
+more pressing manner than ever, and in one of them let him know, that I must be
+forced to wait on him myself, representing my circumstances, the rent of
+lodgings to pay, and the provision for the child wanting, and my own deplorable
+condition, destitute of subsistence for his most solemn engagement to take care
+of and provide for me. I took a copy of this letter, and finding it lay at the
+house near a month and was not called for, I found means to have the copy of it
+put into his own hands at a coffee-house, where I had by inquiry found he used
+to go.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+This letter forced an answer from him, by which, though I found I was to be
+abandoned, yet I found he had sent a letter to me some time before, desiring me
+to go down to the Bath again. Its contents I shall come to presently.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+It is true that sick-beds are the time when such correspondences as this are
+looked on with different countenances, and seen with other eyes than we saw
+them with, or than they appeared with before. My lover had been at the gates of
+death, and at the very brink of eternity; and, it seems, had been struck with a
+due remorse, and with sad reflections upon his past life of gallantry and
+levity; and among the rest, criminal correspondence with me, which was neither
+more nor less than a long-continued life of adultery, and represented itself as
+it really was, not as it had been formerly thought by him to be, and he looked
+upon it now with a just and religious abhorrence.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+I cannot but observe also, and leave it for the direction of my sex in such
+cases of pleasure, that whenever sincere repentance succeeds such a crime as
+this, there never fails to attend a hatred of the object; and the more the
+affection might seem to be before, the hatred will be the more in proportion.
+It will always be so, indeed it can be no otherwise; for there cannot be a true
+and sincere abhorrence of the offence, and the love to the cause of it remain;
+there will, with an abhorrence of the sin, be found a detestation of the
+fellow-sinner; you can expect no other.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+I found it so here, though good manners and justice in this gentleman kept him
+from carrying it on to any extreme but the short history of his part in this
+affair was thus: he perceived by my last letter, and by all the rest, which he
+went for after, that I was not gone to Bath, that his first letter had not come
+to my hand; upon which he write me this following:&mdash;
+</p>
+
+<p class="letter">
+&ldquo;MADAM,&mdash;I am surprised that my letter, dated the 8th of last month,
+did not come to your hand; I give you my word it was delivered at your
+lodgings, and to the hands of your maid.<br />
+    &rsquo;I need not acquaint you with what has been my condition for some
+time past; and how, having been at the edge of the grave, I am, by the
+unexpected and undeserved mercy of Heaven, restored again. In the condition I
+have been in, it cannot be strange to you that our unhappy correspondence had
+not been the least of the burthens which lay upon my conscience. I need say no
+more; those things that must be repented of, must be also reformed.<br />
+    I wish you would think of going back to the Bath. I enclose you here a bill
+for &pound;50 for clearing yourself at your lodgings, and carrying you down,
+and hope it will be no surprise to you to add, that on this account only, and
+not for any offence given me on your side, I can <i>see you no more</i>. I will
+take due care of the child; leave him where he is, or take him with you, as you
+please. I wish you the like reflections, and that they may be to your
+advantage.&mdash;I am,&rdquo; etc.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+I was struck with this letter as with a thousand wounds, such as I cannot
+describe; the reproaches of my own conscience were such as I cannot express,
+for I was not blind to my own crime; and I reflected that I might with less
+offence have continued with my brother, and lived with him as a wife, since
+there was no crime in our marriage on that score, neither of us knowing it.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+But I never once reflected that I was all this while a married woman, a wife to
+Mr. &mdash;&mdash; the linen-draper, who, though he had left me by the
+necessity of his circumstances, had no power to discharge me from the marriage
+contract which was between us, or to give me a legal liberty to marry again; so
+that I had been no less than a whore and an adulteress all this while. I then
+reproached myself with the liberties I had taken, and how I had been a snare to
+this gentleman, and that indeed I was principal in the crime; that now he was
+mercifully snatched out of the gulf by a convincing work upon his mind, but
+that I was left as if I was forsaken of God&rsquo;s grace, and abandoned by
+Heaven to a continuing in my wickedness.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Under these reflections I continued very pensive and sad for near month, and
+did not go down to the Bath, having no inclination to be with the woman whom I
+was with before; lest, as I thought, she should prompt me to some wicked course
+of life again, as she had done; and besides, I was very loth she should know I
+was cast off as above.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+And now I was greatly perplexed about my little boy. It was death to me to part
+with the child, and yet when I considered the danger of being one time or other
+left with him to keep without a maintenance to support him, I then resolved to
+leave him where he was; but then I concluded also to be near him myself too,
+that I then might have the satisfaction of seeing him, without the care of
+providing for him.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+I sent my gentleman a short letter, therefore, that I had obeyed his orders in
+all things but that of going back to the Bath, which I could not think of for
+many reasons; that however parting from him was a wound to me that I could
+never recover, yet that I was fully satisfied his reflections were just, and
+would be very far from desiring to obstruct his reformation or repentance.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Then I represented my own circumstances to him in the most moving terms that I
+was able. I told him that those unhappy distresses which first moved him to a
+generous and an honest friendship for me, would, I hope, move him to a little
+concern for me now, though the criminal part of our correspondence, which I
+believed neither of us intended to fall into at the time, was broken off; that
+I desired to repent as sincerely as he had done, but entreated him to put me in
+some condition that I might not be exposed to the temptations which the devil
+never fails to excite us to from the frightful prospect of poverty and
+distress; and if he had the least apprehensions of my being troublesome to him,
+I begged he would put me in a posture to go back to my mother in Virginia, from
+when he knew I came, and that would put an end to all his fears on that
+account. I concluded, that if he would send me &pound;50 more to facilitate my
+going away, I would send him back a general release, and would promise never to
+disturb him more with any importunities; unless it was to hear of the
+well-doing of the child, whom, if I found my mother living and my circumstances
+able, I would send for to come over to me, and take him also effectually off
+his hands.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+This was indeed all a cheat thus far, viz. that I had no intention to go to
+Virginia, as the account of my former affairs there may convince anybody of;
+but the business was to get this last &pound;50 of him, if possible, knowing
+well enough it would be the last penny I was ever to expect.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+However, the argument I used, namely, of giving him a general release, and
+never troubling him any more, prevailed effectually with him, and he sent me a
+bill for the money by a person who brought with him a general release for me to
+sign, and which I frankly signed, and received the money; and thus, though full
+sore against my will, a final end was put to this affair.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+And here I cannot but reflect upon the unhappy consequence of too great
+freedoms between persons stated as we were, upon the pretence of innocent
+intentions, love of friendship, and the like; for the flesh has generally so
+great a share in those friendships, that is great odds but inclination prevails
+at last over the most solemn resolutions; and that vice breaks in at the
+breaches of decency, which really innocent friendship ought to preserve with
+the greatest strictness. But I leave the readers of these things to their own
+just reflections, which they will be more able to make effectual than I, who so
+soon forgot myself, and am therefore but a very indifferent monitor.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+I was now a single person again, as I may call myself; I was loosed from all
+the obligations either of wedlock or mistress-ship in the world, except my
+husband the linen-draper, whom, I having not now heard from in almost fifteen
+years, nobody could blame me for thinking myself entirely freed from; seeing
+also he had at his going away told me, that if I did not hear frequently from
+him, I should conclude he was dead, and I might freely marry again to whom I
+pleased.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+I now began to cast up my accounts. I had by many letters and much importunity,
+and with the intercession of my mother too, had a second return of some goods
+from my brother (as I now call him) in Virginia, to make up the damage of the
+cargo I brought away with me, and this too was upon the condition of my sealing
+a general release to him, and to send it him by his correspondent at Bristol,
+which, though I thought hard of, yet I was obliged to promise to do. However, I
+managed so well in this case, that I got my goods away before the release was
+signed, and then I always found something or other to say to evade the thing,
+and to put off the signing it at all; till at length I pretended I must write
+to my brother, and have his answer, before I could do it.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Including this recruit, and before I got the last &pound;50, I found my
+strength to amount, put all together, to about &pound;400, so that with that I
+had about &pound;450. I had saved above &pound;100 more, but I met with a
+disaster with that, which was this&mdash;that a goldsmith in whose hands I had
+trusted it, broke, so I lost &pound;70 of my money, the man&rsquo;s composition
+not making above &pound;30 out of his &pound;100. I had a little plate, but not
+much, and was well enough stocked with clothes and linen.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+With this stock I had the world to begin again; but you are to consider that I
+was not now the same woman as when I lived at Redriff; for, first of all, I was
+near twenty years older, and did not look the better for my age, nor for my
+rambles to Virginia and back again; and though I omitted nothing that might set
+me out to advantage, except painting, for that I never stooped to, and had
+pride enough to think I did not want it, yet there would always be some
+difference seen between five-and-twenty and two-and-forty.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+I cast about innumerable ways for my future state of life, and began to
+consider very seriously what I should do, but nothing offered. I took care to
+make the world take me for something more than I was, and had it given out that
+I was a fortune, and that my estate was in my own hands; the last of which was
+very true, the first of it was as above. I had no acquaintance, which was one
+of my worst misfortunes, and the consequence of that was, I had no adviser, at
+least who could assist and advise together; and above all, I had nobody to whom
+I could in confidence commit the secret of my circumstances to, and could
+depend upon for their secrecy and fidelity; and I found by experience, that to
+be friendless is the worst condition, next to being in want that a woman can be
+reduced to: I say a woman, because &rsquo;tis evident men can be their own
+advisers, and their own directors, and know how to work themselves out of
+difficulties and into business better than women; but if a woman has no friend
+to communicate her affairs to, and to advise and assist her, &rsquo;tis ten to
+one but she is undone; nay, and the more money she has, the more danger she is
+in of being wronged and deceived; and this was my case in the affair of the
+&pound;100 which I left in the hands of the goldsmith, as above, whose credit,
+it seems, was upon the ebb before, but I, that had no knowledge of things and
+nobody to consult with, knew nothing of it, and so lost my money.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+In the next place, when a woman is thus left desolate and void of counsel, she
+is just like a bag of money or a jewel dropped on the highway, which is a prey
+to the next comer; if a man of virtue and upright principles happens to find
+it, he will have it cried, and the owner may come to hear of it again; but how
+many times shall such a thing fall into hands that will make no scruple of
+seizing it for their own, to once that it shall come into good hands?
+</p>
+
+<p>
+This was evidently my case, for I was now a loose, unguided creature, and had
+no help, no assistance, no guide for my conduct; I knew what I aimed at and
+what I wanted, but knew nothing how to pursue the end by direct means. I wanted
+to be placed in a settle state of living, and had I happened to meet with a
+sober, good husband, I should have been as faithful and true a wife to him as
+virtue itself could have formed. If I had been otherwise, the vice came in
+always at the door of necessity, not at the door of inclination; and I
+understood too well, by the want of it, what the value of a settled life was,
+to do anything to forfeit the felicity of it; nay, I should have made the
+better wife for all the difficulties I had passed through, by a great deal; nor
+did I in any of the time that I had been a wife give my husbands the least
+uneasiness on account of my behaviour.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+But all this was nothing; I found no encouraging prospect. I waited; I lived
+regularly, and with as much frugality as became my circumstances, but nothing
+offered, nothing presented, and the main stock wasted apace. What to do I knew
+not; the terror of approaching poverty lay hard upon my spirits. I had some
+money, but where to place it I knew not, nor would the interest of it maintain
+me, at least not in London.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+At length a new scene opened. There was in the house where I lodged a
+north-country woman that went for a gentlewoman, and nothing was more frequent
+in her discourse than her account of the cheapness of provisions, and the easy
+way of living in her country; how plentiful and how cheap everything was, what
+good company they kept, and the like; till at last I told her she almost
+tempted me to go and live in her country; for I that was a widow, though I had
+sufficient to live on, yet had no way of increasing it; and that I found I
+could not live here under &pound;100 a year, unless I kept no company, no
+servant, made no appearance, and buried myself in privacy, as if I was obliged
+to it by necessity.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+I should have observed, that she was always made to believe, as everybody else
+was, that I was a great fortune, or at least that I had three or four thousand
+pounds, if not more, and all in my own hands; and she was mighty sweet upon me
+when she thought me inclined in the least to go into her country. She said she
+had a sister lived near Liverpool, that her brother was a considerable
+gentleman there, and had a great estate also in Ireland; that she would go down
+there in about two months, and if I would give her my company thither, I should
+be as welcome as herself for a month or more as I pleased, till I should see
+how I liked the country; and if I thought fit to live there, she would
+undertake they would take care, though they did not entertain lodgers
+themselves, they would recommend me to some agreeable family, where I should be
+placed to my content.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+If this woman had known my real circumstances, she would never have laid so
+many snares, and taken so many weary steps to catch a poor desolate creature
+that was good for little when it was caught; and indeed I, whose case was
+almost desperate, and thought I could not be much worse, was not very anxious
+about what might befall me, provided they did me no personal injury; so I
+suffered myself, though not without a great deal of invitation and great
+professions of sincere friendship and real kindness&mdash;I say, I suffered
+myself to be prevailed upon to go with her, and accordingly I packed up my
+baggage, and put myself in a posture for a journey, though I did not absolutely
+know whither I was to go.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+And now I found myself in great distress; what little I had in the world was
+all in money, except as before, a little plate, some linen, and my clothes; as
+for my household stuff, I had little or none, for I had lived always in
+lodgings; but I had not one friend in the world with whom to trust that little
+I had, or to direct me how to dispose of it, and this perplexed me night and
+day. I thought of the bank, and of the other companies in London, but I had no
+friend to commit the management of it to, and keep and carry about with me bank
+bills, tallies, orders, and such things, I looked upon at as unsafe; that if
+they were lost, my money was lost, and then I was undone; and, on the other
+hand, I might be robbed and perhaps murdered in a strange place for them. This
+perplexed me strangely, and what to do I knew not.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+It came in my thoughts one morning that I would go to the bank myself, where I
+had often been to receive the interest of some bills I had, which had interest
+payable on them, and where I had found a clerk, to whom I applied myself, very
+honest and just to me, and particularly so fair one time that when I had
+mistold my money, and taken less than my due, and was coming away, he set me to
+rights and gave me the rest, which he might have put into his own pocket.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+I went to him and represented my case very plainly, and asked if he would
+trouble himself to be my adviser, who was a poor friendless widow, and knew not
+what to do. He told me, if I desired his opinion of anything within the reach
+of his business, he would do his endeavour that I should not be wronged, but
+that he would also help me to a good sober person who was a grave man of his
+acquaintance, who was a clerk in such business too, though not in their house,
+whose judgment was good, and whose honesty I might depend upon.
+&ldquo;For,&rdquo; added he, &ldquo;I will answer for him, and for every step
+he takes; if he wrongs you, madam, of one farthing, it shall lie at my door, I
+will make it good; and he delights to assist people in such cases&mdash;he does
+it as an act of charity.&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+I was a little at a stand in this discourse; but after some pause I told him I
+had rather have depended upon him, because I had found him honest, but if that
+could not be, I would take his recommendation sooner than any one&rsquo;s else.
+&ldquo;I dare say, madam,&rdquo; says he, &ldquo;that you will be as well
+satisfied with my friend as with me, and he is thoroughly able to assist you,
+which I am not.&rdquo; It seems he had his hands full of the business of the
+bank, and had engaged to meddle with no other business than that of his office,
+which I heard afterwards, but did not understand then. He added, that his
+friend should take nothing of me for his advice or assistance, and this indeed
+encouraged me very much.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+He appointed the same evening, after the bank was shut and business over, for
+me to meet him and his friend. And indeed as soon as I saw his friend, and he
+began but to talk of the affair, I was fully satisfied that I had a very honest
+man to deal with; his countenance spoke it, and his character, as I heard
+afterwards, was everywhere so good, that I had no room for any more doubts upon
+me.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+After the first meeting, in which I only said what I had said before, we
+parted, and he appointed me to come the next day to him, telling me I might in
+the meantime satisfy myself of him by inquiry, which, however, I knew not how
+well to do, having no acquaintance myself.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Accordingly I met him the next day, when I entered more freely with him into my
+case. I told him my circumstances at large: that I was a widow come over from
+America, perfectly desolate and friendless; that I had a little money, and but
+a little, and was almost distracted for fear of losing it, having no friend in
+the world to trust with the management of it; that I was going into the north
+of England to live cheap, that my stock might not waste; that I would willingly
+lodge my money in the bank, but that I durst not carry the bills about me, and
+the like, as above; and how to correspond about it, or with whom, I knew not.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+He told me I might lodge the money in the bank as an account, and its being
+entered into the books would entitle me to the money at any time, and if I was
+in the north I might draw bills on the cashier and receive it when I would; but
+that then it would be esteemed as running cash, and the bank would give no
+interest for it; that I might buy stock with it, and so it would lie in store
+for me, but that then if I wanted to dispose if it, I must come up to town on
+purpose to transfer it, and even it would be with some difficulty I should
+receive the half-yearly dividend, unless I was here in person, or had some
+friend I could trust with having the stock in his name to do it for me, and
+that would have the same difficulty in it as before; and with that he looked
+hard at me and smiled a little. At last, says he, &ldquo;Why do you not get a
+head steward, madam, that may take you and your money together into keeping,
+and then you would have the trouble taken off your hands?&rdquo; &ldquo;Ay,
+sir, and the money too, it may be,&rdquo; said I; &ldquo;for truly I find the
+hazard that way is as much as &rsquo;tis t&rsquo;other way&rdquo;; but I
+remember I said secretly to myself, &ldquo;I wish you would ask me the question
+fairly, I would consider very seriously on it before I said No.&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+He went on a good way with me, and I thought once or twice he was in earnest,
+but to my real affliction, I found at last he had a wife; but when he owned he
+had a wife he shook his head, and said with some concern, that indeed he had a
+wife, and no wife. I began to think he had been in the condition of my late
+lover, and that his wife had been distempered or lunatic, or some such thing.
+However, we had not much more discourse at that time, but he told me he was in
+too much hurry of business then, but that if I would come home to his house
+after their business was over, he would by that time consider what might be
+done for me, to put my affairs in a posture of security. I told him I would
+come, and desired to know where he lived. He gave me a direction in writing,
+and when he gave it me he read it to me, and said, &ldquo;There &rsquo;tis,
+madam, if you dare trust yourself with me.&rdquo; &ldquo;Yes, sir,&rdquo; said
+I, &ldquo;I believe I may venture to trust you with myself, for you have a
+wife, you say, and I don&rsquo;t want a husband; besides, I dare trust you with
+my money, which is all I have in the world, and if that were gone, I may trust
+myself anywhere.&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+He said some things in jest that were very handsome and mannerly, and would
+have pleased me very well if they had been in earnest; but that passed over, I
+took the directions, and appointed to attend him at his house at seven
+o&rsquo;clock the same evening.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+When I came he made several proposals for my placing my money in the bank, in
+order to my having interest for it; but still some difficulty or other came in
+the way, which he objected as not safe; and I found such a sincere
+disinterested honesty in him, that I began to muse with myself, that I had
+certainly found the honest man I wanted, and that I could never put myself into
+better hands; so I told him with a great deal of frankness that I had never met
+with a man or woman yet that I could trust, or in whom I could think myself
+safe, but that I saw he was so disinterestedly concerned for my safety, that I
+said I would freely trust him with the management of that little I had, if he
+would accept to be steward for a poor widow that could give him no salary.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+He smiled and, standing up, with great respect saluted me. He told me he could
+not but take it very kindly that I had so good an opinion of him; that he would
+not deceive me, that he would do anything in his power to serve me, and expect
+no salary; but that he could not by any means accept of a trust, that it might
+bring him to be suspected of self-interest, and that if I should die he might
+have disputes with my executors, which he should be very loth to encumber
+himself with.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+I told him if those were all his objections I would soon remove them, and
+convince him that there was not the least room for any difficulty; for that,
+first, as for suspecting him, if ever I should do it, now is the time to
+suspect him, and not put the trust into his hands, and whenever I did suspect
+him, he could but throw it up then and refuse to go any further. Then, as to
+executors, I assured him I had no heirs, nor any relations in England, and I
+should alter my condition before I died, and then his trust and trouble should
+cease together, which, however, I had no prospect of yet; but I told him if I
+died as I was, it should be all his own, and he would deserve it by being so
+faithful to me as I was satisfied he would be.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+He changed his countenance at this discourse, and asked me how I came to have
+so much good-will for him; and, looking very much pleased, said he might very
+lawfully wish he was a single man for my sake. I smiled, and told him as he was
+not, my offer could have no design upon him in it, and to wish, as he did, was
+not to be allowed, &rsquo;twas criminal to his wife.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+He told me I was wrong. &ldquo;For,&rdquo; says he, &ldquo;madam, as I said
+before, I have a wife and no wife, and &rsquo;twould be no sin to me to wish
+her hanged, if that were all.&rdquo; &ldquo;I know nothing of your
+circumstances that way, sir,&rdquo; said I; &ldquo;but it cannot be innocent to
+wish your wife dead.&rdquo; &ldquo;I tell you,&rdquo; says he again, &ldquo;she
+is a wife and no wife; you don&rsquo;t know what I am, or what she is.&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;That&rsquo;s true,&rdquo; said I; &ldquo;sir, I do not know what you
+are, but I believe you to be an honest man, and that&rsquo;s the cause of all
+my confidence in you.&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;Well, well,&rdquo; says he, &ldquo;and so I am, I hope, too. But I am
+something else too, madam; for,&rdquo; says he, &ldquo;to be plain with you, I
+am a cuckold, and she is a whore.&rdquo; He spoke it in a kind of jest, but it
+was with such an awkward smile, that I perceived it was what struck very close
+to him, and he looked dismally when he said it.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;That alters the case indeed, sir,&rdquo; said I, &ldquo;as to that part
+you were speaking of; but a cuckold, you know, may be an honest man; it does
+not alter that case at all. Besides, I think,&rdquo; said I, &ldquo;since your
+wife is so dishonest to you, you are too honest to her to own her for your
+wife; but that,&rdquo; said I, &ldquo;is what I have nothing to do with.&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;Nay,&rdquo; says he, &ldquo;I do not think to clear my hands of her;
+for, to be plain with you, madam,&rdquo; added he, &ldquo;I am no contended
+cuckold neither: on the other hand, I assure you it provokes me the highest
+degree, but I can&rsquo;t help myself; she that will be a whore, will be a
+whore.&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+I waived the discourse and began to talk of my business; but I found he could
+not have done with it, so I let him alone, and he went on to tell me all the
+circumstances of his case, too long to relate here; particularly, that having
+been out of England some time before he came to the post he was in, she had had
+two children in the meantime by an officer of the army; and that when he came
+to England and, upon her submission, took her again, and maintained her very
+well, yet she ran away from him with a linen-draper&rsquo;s apprentice, robbed
+him of what she could come at, and continued to live from him still. &ldquo;So
+that, madam,&rdquo; says he, &ldquo;she is a whore not by necessity, which is
+the common bait of your sex, but by inclination, and for the sake of the
+vice.&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Well, I pitied him, and wished him well rid of her, and still would have talked
+of my business, but it would not do. At last he looks steadily at me.
+&ldquo;Look you, madam,&rdquo; says he, &ldquo;you came to ask advice of me,
+and I will serve you as faithfully as if you were my own sister; but I must
+turn the tables, since you oblige me to do it, and are so friendly to me, and I
+think I must ask advice of you. Tell me, what must a poor abused fellow do with
+a whore? What can I do to do myself justice upon her?&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;Alas! sir,&rdquo; says I, &ldquo;&rsquo;tis a case too nice for me to
+advise in, but it seems she has run away from you, so you are rid of her
+fairly; what can you desire more?&rdquo; &ldquo;Ay, she is gone indeed,&rdquo;
+said he, &ldquo;but I am not clear of her for all that.&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;That&rsquo;s true,&rdquo; says I; &ldquo;she may indeed run you into
+debt, but the law has furnished you with methods to prevent that also; you may
+cry her down, as they call it.&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;No, no,&rdquo; says he, &ldquo;that is not the case neither; I have
+taken care of all that; &rsquo;tis not that part that I speak of, but I would
+be rid of her so that I might marry again.&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;Well, sir,&rdquo; says I, &ldquo;then you must divorce her. If you can
+prove what you say, you may certainly get that done, and then, I suppose, you
+are free.&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;That&rsquo;s very tedious and expensive,&rdquo; says he.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;Why,&rdquo; says I, &ldquo;if you can get any woman you like to take
+your word, I suppose your wife would not dispute the liberty with you that she
+takes herself.&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;Ay,&rdquo; says he, &ldquo;but &rsquo;twould be hard to bring an honest
+woman to do that; and for the other sort,&rdquo; says he, &ldquo;I have had
+enough of her to meddle with any more whores.&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+It occurred to me presently, &ldquo;I would have taken your word with all my
+heart, if you had but asked me the question&rdquo;; but that was to myself. To
+him I replied, &ldquo;Why, you shut the door against any honest woman accepting
+you, for you condemn all that should venture upon you at once, and conclude,
+that really a woman that takes you now can&rsquo;t be honest.&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;Why,&rdquo; says he, &ldquo;I wish you would satisfy me that an honest
+woman would take me; I&rsquo;d venture it&rdquo;; and then turns short upon me,
+&ldquo;Will you take me, madam?&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;That&rsquo;s not a fair question,&rdquo; says I, &ldquo;after what you
+have said; however, lest you should think I wait only for a recantation of it,
+I shall answer you plainly, No, not I; my business is of another kind with you,
+and I did not expect you would have turned my serious application to you, in my
+own distracted case, into a comedy.&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;Why, madam,&rdquo; says he, &ldquo;my case is as distracted as yours can
+be, and I stand in as much need of advice as you do, for I think if I have not
+relief somewhere, I shall be made myself, and I know not what course to take, I
+protest to you.&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;Why, sir,&rdquo; says I, &ldquo;&rsquo;tis easy to give advice in your
+case, much easier than it is in mine.&rdquo; &ldquo;Speak then,&rdquo; says he,
+&ldquo;I beg of you, for now you encourage me.&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;Why,&rdquo; says I, &ldquo;if your case is so plain as you say it is,
+you may be legally divorced, and then you may find honest women enough to ask
+the question of fairly; the sex is not so scarce that you can want a
+wife.&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;Well, then,&rdquo; said he, &ldquo;I am in earnest; I&rsquo;ll take your
+advice; but shall I ask you one question seriously beforehand?&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;Any question,&rdquo; said I, &ldquo;but that you did before.&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;No, that answer will not do,&rdquo; said he, &ldquo;for, in short, that
+is the question I shall ask.&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;You may ask what questions you please, but you have my answer to that
+already,&rdquo; said I. &ldquo;Besides, sir,&rdquo; said I, &ldquo;can you
+think so ill of me as that I would give any answer to such a question
+beforehand? Can any woman alive believe you in earnest, or think you design
+anything but to banter her?&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;Well, well,&rdquo; says he, &ldquo;I do not banter you, I am in earnest;
+consider of it.&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;But, sir,&rdquo; says I, a little gravely, &ldquo;I came to you about my
+own business; I beg of you to let me know, what you will advise me to
+do?&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;I will be prepared,&rdquo; says he, &ldquo;against you come
+again.&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;Nay,&rdquo; says I, &ldquo;you have forbid my coming any more.&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;Why so?&rdquo; said he, and looked a little surprised.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;Because,&rdquo; said I, &ldquo;you can&rsquo;t expect I should visit you
+on the account you talk of.&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;Well,&rdquo; says he, &ldquo;you shall promise me to come again,
+however, and I will not say any more of it till I have gotten the divorce, but
+I desire you will prepare to be better conditioned when that&rsquo;s done, for
+you shall be the woman, or I will not be divorced at all; why, I owe it to your
+unlooked-for kindness, if it were to nothing else, but I have other reasons
+too.&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+He could not have said anything in the world that pleased me better; however, I
+knew that the way to secure him was to stand off while the thing was so remote,
+as it appeared to be, and that it was time enough to accept of it when he was
+able to perform it; so I said very respectfully to him, it was time enough to
+consider of these things when he was in a condition to talk of them; in the
+meantime, I told him, I was going a great way from him, and he would find
+objects enough to please him better. We broke off here for the present, and he
+made me promise him to come again the next day, for his resolutions upon my own
+business, which after some pressing I did; though had he seen farther into me,
+I wanted no pressing on that account.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+I came the next evening, accordingly, and brought my maid with me, to let him
+see that I kept a maid, but I sent her away as soon as I was gone in. He would
+have had me let the maid have stayed, but I would not, but ordered her aloud to
+come for me again about nine o&rsquo;clock. But he forbade that, and told me he
+would see me safe home, which, by the way, I was not very well pleased with,
+supposing he might do that to know where I lived and inquire into my character
+and circumstances. However, I ventured that, for all that the people there or
+thereabout knew of me, was to my advantage; and all the character he had of me,
+after he had inquired, was that I was a woman of fortune, and that I was a very
+modest, sober body; which, whether true or not in the main, yet you may see how
+necessary it is for all women who expect anything in the world, to preserve the
+character of their virtue, even when perhaps they may have sacrificed the thing
+itself.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+I found, and was not a little please with it, that he had provided a supper for
+me. I found also he lived very handsomely, and had a house very handsomely
+furnished; all of which I was rejoiced at indeed, for I looked upon it as all
+my own.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+We had now a second conference upon the subject-matter of the last conference.
+He laid his business very home indeed; he protested his affection to me, and
+indeed I had no room to doubt it; he declared that it began from the first
+moment I talked with him, and long before I had mentioned leaving my effects
+with him. &ldquo;&rsquo;Tis no matter when it began,&rdquo; thought I;
+&ldquo;if it will but hold, &rsquo;twill be well enough.&rdquo; He then told me
+how much the offer I had made of trusting him with my effects, and leaving them
+to him, had engaged him. &ldquo;So I intended it should,&rdquo; thought I,
+&ldquo;but then I thought you had been a single man too.&rdquo; After we had
+supped, I observed he pressed me very hard to drink two or three glasses of
+wine, which, however, I declined, but drank one glass or two. He then told me
+he had a proposal to make to me, which I should promise him I would not take
+ill if I should not grant it. I told him I hoped he would make no dishonourable
+proposal to me, especially in his own house, and that if it was such, I desired
+he would not propose it, that I might not be obliged to offer any resentment to
+him that did not become the respect I professed for him, and the trust I had
+placed in him in coming to his house; and begged of him he would give me leave
+to go away, and accordingly began to put on my gloves and prepare to be gone,
+though at the same time I no more intended it than he intended to let me.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Well, he importuned me not to talk of going; he assured me he had no
+dishonourable thing in his thoughts about me, and was very far from offering
+anything to me that was dishonourable, and if I thought so, he would choose to
+say no more of it.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+That part I did not relish at all. I told him I was ready to hear anything that
+he had to say, depending that he would say nothing unworthy of himself, or
+unfit for me to hear. Upon this, he told me his proposal was this: that I would
+marry him, though he had not yet obtained the divorce from the whore his wife;
+and to satisfy me that he meant honourably, he would promise not to desire me
+to live with him, or go to bed with him till the divorce was obtained. My heart
+said yes to this offer at first word, but it was necessary to play the
+hypocrite a little more with him; so I seemed to decline the motion with some
+warmth, and besides a little condemning the thing as unfair, told him that such
+a proposal could be of no signification, but to entangle us both in great
+difficulties; for if he should not at last obtain the divorce, yet we could not
+dissolve the marriage, neither could we proceed in it; so that if he was
+disappointed in the divorce, I left him to consider what a condition we should
+both be in.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+In short, I carried on the argument against this so far, that I convinced him
+it was not a proposal that had any sense in it. Well, then he went from it to
+another, and that was, that I would sign and seal a contract with him,
+conditioning to marry him as soon as the divorce was obtained, and to be void
+if he could not obtain it.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+I told him such a thing was more rational than the other; but as this was the
+first time that ever I could imagine him weak enough to be in earnest in this
+affair, I did not use to say Yes at first asking; I would consider of it.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+I played with this lover as an angler does with a trout. I found I had him fast
+on the hook, so I jested with his new proposal, and put him off. I told him he
+knew little of me, and bade him inquire about me; I let him also go home with
+me to my lodging, though I would not ask him to go in, for I told him it was
+not decent.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+In short, I ventured to avoid signing a contract of marriage, and the reason
+why I did it was because the lady that had invited me so earnestly to go with
+her into Lancashire insisted so positively upon it, and promised me such great
+fortunes, and such fine things there, that I was tempted to go and try.
+&ldquo;Perhaps,&rdquo; said I, &ldquo;I may mend myself very much&rdquo;; and
+then I made no scruple in my thoughts of quitting my honest citizen, whom I was
+not so much in love with as not to leave him for a richer.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+In a word, I avoided a contract; but told him I would go into the north, that
+he should know where to write to me by the consequence of the business I had
+entrusted with him; that I would give him a sufficient pledge of my respect for
+him, for I would leave almost all I had in the world in his hands; and I would
+thus far give him my word, that as soon as he had sued out a divorce from his
+first wife, he would send me an account of it, I would come up to London, and
+that then we would talk seriously of the matter.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+It was a base design I went with, that I must confess, though I was invited
+thither with a design much worse than mine was, as the sequel will discover.
+Well, I went with my friend, as I called her, into Lancashire. All the way we
+went she caressed me with the utmost appearance of a sincere, undissembled
+affection; treated me, except my coach-hire, all the way; and her brother
+brought a gentleman&rsquo;s coach to Warrington to receive us, and we were
+carried from thence to Liverpool with as much ceremony as I could desire. We
+were also entertained at a merchant&rsquo;s house in Liverpool three or four
+days very handsomely; I forbear to tell his name, because of what followed.
+Then she told me she would carry me to an uncle&rsquo;s house of hers, where we
+should be nobly entertained. She did so; her uncle, as she called him, sent a
+coach and four horses for us, and we were carried near forty miles I know not
+whither.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+We came, however, to a gentleman&rsquo;s seat, where was a numerous family, a
+large park, extraordinary company indeed, and where she was called cousin. I
+told her if she had resolved to bring me into such company as this, she should
+have let me have prepared myself, and have furnished myself with better
+clothes. The ladies took notice of that, and told me very genteelly they did
+not value people in their country so much by their clothes as they did in
+London; that their cousin had fully informed them of my quality, and that I did
+not want clothes to set me off; in short, they entertained me, not like what I
+was, but like what they thought I had been, namely, a widow lady of a great
+fortune.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+The first discovery I made here was, that the family were all Roman Catholics,
+and the cousin too, whom I called my friend; however, I must say that nobody in
+the world could behave better to me, and I had all the civility shown me that I
+could have had if I had been of their opinion. The truth is, I had not so much
+principle of any kind as to be nice in point of religion, and I presently
+learned to speak favourably of the Romish Church; particularly, I told them I
+saw little but the prejudice of education in all the difference that were among
+Christians about religion, and if it had so happened that my father had been a
+Roman Catholic, I doubted not but I should have been as well pleased with their
+religion as my own.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+This obliged them in the highest degree, and as I was besieged day and night
+with good company and pleasant discourse, so I had two or three old ladies that
+lay at me upon the subject of religion too. I was so complaisant, that though I
+would not completely engage, yet I made no scruple to be present at their mass,
+and to conform to all their gestures as they showed me the pattern, but I would
+not come too cheap; so that I only in the main encouraged them to expect that I
+would turn Roman Catholic, if I was instructed in the Catholic doctrine as they
+called it, and so the matter rested.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+I stayed here about six weeks; and then my conductor led me back to a country
+village, about six miles from Liverpool, where her brother (as she called him)
+came to visit me in his own chariot, and in a very good figure, with two
+footmen in a good livery; and the next thing was to make love to me. As it had
+happened to me, one would think I could not have been cheated, and indeed I
+thought so myself, having a safe card at home, which I resolved not to quit
+unless I could mend myself very much. However, in all appearance this brother
+was a match worth my listening to, and the least his estate was valued at was
+&pound;1000 a year, but the sister said it was worth &pound;1500 a year, and
+lay most of it in Ireland.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+I that was a great fortune, and passed for such, was above being asked how much
+my estate was; and my false friend taking it upon a foolish hearsay, had raised
+it from &pound;500 to &pound;5000, and by the time she came into the country
+she called it &pound;15,000. The Irishman, for such I understood him to be, was
+stark mad at this bait; in short, he courted me, made me presents, and ran in
+debt like a madman for the expenses of his equipage and of his courtship. He
+had, to give him his due, the appearance of an extraordinary fine gentleman; he
+was tall, well-shaped, and had an extraordinary address; talked as naturally of
+his park and his stables, of his horses, his gamekeepers, his woods, his
+tenants, and his servants, as if we had been in the mansion-house, and I had
+seen them all about me.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+He never so much as asked me about my fortune or estate, but assured me that
+when we came to Dublin he would jointure me in &pound;600 a year good land; and
+that we could enter into a deed of settlement or contract here for the
+performance of it.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+This was such language indeed as I had not been used to, and I was here beaten
+out of all my measures; I had a she-devil in my bosom, every hour telling me
+how great her brother lived. One time she would come for my orders, how I would
+have my coaches painted, and how lined; and another time what clothes my page
+should wear; in short, my eyes were dazzled. I had now lost my power of saying
+No, and, to cut the story short, I consented to be married; but to be the more
+private, we were carried farther into the country, and married by a Romish
+clergyman, who I was assured would marry us as effectually as a Church of
+England parson.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+I cannot say but I had some reflections in this affair upon the dishonourable
+forsaking my faithful citizen, who loved me sincerely, and who was endeavouring
+to quit himself of a scandalous whore by whom he had been indeed barbarously
+used, and promised himself infinite happiness in his new choice; which choice
+was now giving up herself to another in a manner almost as scandalous as hers
+could be.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+But the glittering shoe of a great estate, and of fine things, which the
+deceived creature that was now my deceiver represented every hour to my
+imagination, hurried me away, and gave me no time to think of London, or of
+anything there, much less of the obligation I had to a person of infinitely
+more real merit than what was now before me.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+But the thing was done; I was now in the arms of my new spouse, who appeared
+still the same as before; great even to magnificence, and nothing less than
+&pound;1000 a year could support the ordinary equipage he appeared in.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+After we had been married about a month, he began to talk of my going to West
+Chester in order to embark for Ireland. However, he did not hurry me, for we
+stayed near three weeks longer, and then he sent to Chester for a coach to meet
+us at the Black Rock, as they call it, over against Liverpool. Thither we went
+in a fine boat they call a pinnace, with six oars; his servants, and horses,
+and baggage going in the ferry-boat. He made his excuse to me that he had no
+acquaintance in Chester, but he would go before and get some handsome apartment
+for me at a private house. I asked him how long we should stay at Chester. He
+said, not at all, any longer than one night or two, but he would immediately
+hire a coach to go to Holyhead. Then I told him he should by no means give
+himself the trouble to get private lodgings for one night or two, for that
+Chester being a great place, I made no doubt but there would be very good inns
+and accommodation enough; so we lodged at an inn in the West Street, not far
+from the Cathedral; I forget what sign it was at.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Here my spouse, talking of my going to Ireland, asked me if I had no affairs to
+settle at London before we went off. I told him No, not of any great
+consequence, but what might be done as well by letter from Dublin.
+&ldquo;Madam,&rdquo; says he, very respectfully, &ldquo;I suppose the greatest
+part of your estate, which my sister tells me is most of it in money in the
+Bank of England, lies secure enough, but in case it required transferring, or
+any way altering its property, it might be necessary to go up to London and
+settle those things before we went over.&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+I seemed to look strange at it, and told him I knew not what he meant; that I
+had no effects in the Bank of England that I knew of; and I hoped he could not
+say that I had ever told him I had. No, he said, I had not told him so, but his
+sister had said the greatest part of my estate lay there. &ldquo;And I only
+mentioned it, me dear,&rdquo; said he, &ldquo;that if there was any occasion to
+settle it, or order anything about it, we might not be obliged to the hazard
+and trouble of another voyage back again&rdquo;; for he added, that he did not
+care to venture me too much upon the sea.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+I was surprised at this talk, and began to consider very seriously what the
+meaning of it must be; and it presently occurred to me that my friend, who
+called him brother, had represented me in colours which were not my due; and I
+thought, since it was come to that pitch, that I would know the bottom of it
+before I went out of England, and before I should put myself into I knew not
+whose hands in a strange country.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Upon this I called his sister into my chamber the next morning, and letting her
+know the discourse her brother and I had been upon the evening before, I
+conjured her to tell me what she had said to him, and upon what foot it was
+that she had made this marriage. She owned that she had told him that I was a
+great fortune, and said that she was told so at London. &ldquo;Told so!&rdquo;
+says I warmly; &ldquo;did I ever tell you so?&rdquo; No, she said, it was true
+I did not tell her so, but I had said several times that what I had was in my
+own disposal. &ldquo;I did so,&rdquo; returned I very quickly and hastily,
+&ldquo;but I never told you I had anything called a fortune; no, not that I had
+&pound;100, or the value of &pound;100, in the world. Any how did it consist
+with my being a fortune,&rdquo; said I, &ldquo;that I should come here into the
+north of England with you, only upon the account of living cheap?&rdquo; At
+these words, which I spoke warm and high, my husband, her brother (as she
+called him), came into the room, and I desired him to come and sit down, for I
+had something of moment to say before them both, which it was absolutely
+necessary he should hear.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+He looked a little disturbed at the assurance with which I seemed to speak it,
+and came and sat down by me, having first shut the door; upon which I began,
+for I was very much provoked, and turning myself to him, &ldquo;I am
+afraid,&rdquo; says I, &ldquo;my dear&rdquo; (for I spoke with kindness on his
+side), &ldquo;that you have a very great abuse put upon you, and an injury done
+you never to be repaired in your marrying me, which, however, as I have had no
+hand in it, I desire I may be fairly acquitted of it, and that the blame may
+lie where it ought to lie, and nowhere else, for I wash my hands of every part
+of it.&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;What injury can be done me, my dear,&rdquo; says he, &ldquo;in marrying
+you. I hope it is to my honour and advantage every way.&rdquo; &ldquo;I will
+soon explain it to you,&rdquo; says I, &ldquo;and I fear you will have no
+reason to think yourself well used; but I will convince you, my dear,&rdquo;
+says I again, &ldquo;that I have had no hand in it&rdquo;; and there I stopped
+a while.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+He looked now scared and wild, and began, I believe, to suspect what followed;
+however, looking towards me, and saying only, &ldquo;Go on,&rdquo; he sat
+silent, as if to hear what I had more to say; so I went on. &ldquo;I asked you
+last night,&rdquo; said I, speaking to him, &ldquo;if ever I made any boast to
+you of my estate, or ever told you I had any estate in the Bank of England or
+anywhere else, and you owned I had not, as is most true; and I desire you will
+tell me here, before your sister, if ever I gave you any reason from me to
+think so, or that ever we had any discourse about it&rdquo;; and he owned again
+I had not, but said I had appeared always as a woman of fortune, and he
+depended on it that I was so, and hoped he was not deceived. &ldquo;I am not
+inquiring yet whether you have been deceived or not,&rdquo; said I; &ldquo;I
+fear you have, and I too; but I am clearing myself from the unjust charge of
+being concerned in deceiving you.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;I have been now asking your sister if ever I told her of any fortune or
+estate I had, or gave her any particulars of it; and she owns I never did. Any
+pray, madam,&rdquo; said I, turning myself to her, &ldquo;be so just to me,
+before your brother, to charge me, if you can, if ever I pretended to you that
+I had an estate; and why, if I had, should I come down into this country with
+you on purpose to spare that little I had, and live cheap?&rdquo; She could not
+deny one word, but said she had been told in London that I had a very great
+fortune, and that it lay in the Bank of England.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;And now, dear sir,&rdquo; said I, turning myself to my new spouse again,
+&ldquo;be so just to me as to tell me who has abused both you and me so much as
+to make you believe I was a fortune, and prompt you to court me to this
+marriage?&rdquo; He could not speak a word, but pointed to her; and, after some
+more pause, flew out in the most furious passion that ever I saw a man in my
+life, cursing her, and calling her all the whores and hard names he could think
+of; and that she had ruined him, declaring that she had told him I had
+&pound;15,000, and that she was to have &pound;500 of him for procuring this
+match for him. He then added, directing his speech to me, that she was none of
+his sister, but had been his whore for two years before, that she had had
+&pound;100 of him in part of this bargain, and that he was utterly undone if
+things were as I said; and in his raving he swore he would let her
+heart&rsquo;s blood out immediately, which frightened her and me too. She
+cried, said she had been told so in the house where I lodged. But this
+aggravated him more than before, that she should put so far upon him, and run
+things such a length upon no other authority than a hearsay; and then, turning
+to me again, said very honestly, he was afraid we were both undone. &ldquo;For,
+to be plain, my dear, I have no estate,&rdquo; says he; &ldquo;what little I
+had, this devil has made me run out in waiting on you and putting me into this
+equipage.&rdquo; She took the opportunity of his being earnest in talking with
+me, and got out of the room, and I never saw her more.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+I was confounded now as much as he, and knew not what to say. I thought many
+ways that I had the worst of it, but his saying he was undone, and that he had
+no estate neither, put me into a mere distraction. &ldquo;Why,&rdquo; says I to
+him, &ldquo;this has been a hellish juggle, for we are married here upon the
+foot of a double fraud; you are undone by the disappointment, it seems; and if
+I had had a fortune I had been cheated too, for you say you have
+nothing.&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;You would indeed have been cheated, my dear,&rdquo; says he, &ldquo;but
+you would not have been undone, for &pound;15,000 would have maintained us both
+very handsomely in this country; and I assure you,&rdquo; added he, &ldquo;I
+had resolved to have dedicated every groat of it to you; I would not have
+wronged you of a shilling, and the rest I would have made up in my affection to
+you, and tenderness of you, as long as I lived.&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+This was very honest indeed, and I really believe he spoke as he intended, and
+that he was a man that was as well qualified to make me happy, as to his temper
+and behaviour, as any man ever was; but his having no estate, and being run
+into debt on this ridiculous account in the country, made all the prospect
+dismal and dreadful, and I knew not what to say, or what to think of myself.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+I told him it was very unhappy that so much love, and so much good nature as I
+discovered in him, should be thus precipitated into misery; that I saw nothing
+before us but ruin; for as to me, it was my unhappiness that what little I had
+was not able to relieve us week, and with that I pulled out a bank bill of
+&pound;20 and eleven guineas, which I told him I had saved out of my little
+income, and that by the account that creature had given me of the way of living
+in that country, I expected it would maintain me three or four years; that if
+it was taken from me, I was left destitute, and he knew what the condition of a
+woman among strangers must be, if she had no money in her pocket; however, I
+told him, if he would take it, there it was.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+He told me with a great concern, and I thought I saw tears stand in his eyes,
+that he would not touch it; that he abhorred the thoughts of stripping me and
+make me miserable; that, on the contrary, he had fifty guineas left, which was
+all he had in the world, and he pulled it out and threw it down on the table,
+bidding me take it, though he were to starve for want of it.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+I returned, with the same concern for him, that I could not bear to hear him
+talk so; that, on the contrary, if he could propose any probable method of
+living, I would do anything that became me on my part, and that I would live as
+close and as narrow as he could desire.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+He begged of me to talk no more at that rate, for it would make him distracted;
+he said he was bred a gentleman, though he was reduced to a low fortune, and
+that there was but one way left which he could think of, and that would not do,
+unless I could answer him one question, which, however, he said he would not
+press me to. I told him I would answer it honestly; whether it would be to his
+satisfaction or not, that I could not tell.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;Why, then, my dear, tell me plainly,&rdquo; says he, &ldquo;will the
+little you have keep us together in any figure, or in any station or place, or
+will it not?&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+It was my happiness hitherto that I had not discovered myself or my
+circumstances at all&mdash;no, not so much as my name; and seeing these was
+nothing to be expected from him, however good-humoured and however honest he
+seemed to be, but to live on what I knew would soon be wasted, I resolved to
+conceal everything but the bank bill and the eleven guineas which I had owned;
+and I would have been very glad to have lost that and have been set down where
+he took me up. I had indeed another bank bill about me of &pound;30, which was
+the whole of what I brought with me, as well to subsist on in the country, as
+not knowing what might offer; because this creature, the go-between that had
+thus betrayed us both, had made me believe strange things of my marrying to my
+advantage in the country, and I was not willing to be without money, whatever
+might happen. This bill I concealed, and that made me the freer of the rest, in
+consideration of his circumstances, for I really pitied him heartily.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+But to return to his question, I told him I never willingly deceived him, and I
+never would. I was very sorry to tell him that the little I had would not
+subsist us; that it was not sufficient to subsist me alone in the south
+country, and that this was the reason that made me put myself into the hands of
+that woman who called him brother, she having assured me that I might board
+very handsomely at a town called Manchester, where I had not yet been, for
+about &pound;6 a year; and my whole income not being about &pound;15 a year, I
+thought I might live easy upon it, and wait for better things.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+He shook his head and remained silent, and a very melancholy evening we had;
+however, we supped together, and lay together that night, and when we had
+almost supped he looked a little better and more cheerful, and called for a
+bottle of wine. &ldquo;Come, my dear,&rdquo; says he, &ldquo;though the case is
+bad, it is to no purpose to be dejected. Come, be as easy as you can; I will
+endeavour to find out some way or other to live; if you can but subsist
+yourself, that is better than nothing. I must try the world again; a man ought
+to think like a man; to be discouraged is to yield to the misfortune.&rdquo;
+With this he filled a glass and drank to me, holding my hand and pressing it
+hard in his hand all the while the wine went down, and protesting afterwards
+his main concern was for me.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+It was really a true, gallant spirit he was of, and it was the more grievous to
+me. &rsquo;Tis something of relief even to be undone by a man of honour, rather
+than by a scoundrel; but here the greatest disappointment was on his side, for
+he had really spent a great deal of money, deluded by this madam the procuress;
+and it was very remarkable on what poor terms he proceeded. First the baseness
+of the creature herself is to be observed, who, for the getting &pound;100
+herself, could be content to let him spend three or four more, though perhaps
+it was all he had in the world, and more than all; when she had not the least
+ground, more than a little tea-table chat, to say that I had any estate, or was
+a fortune, or the like. It is true the design of deluding a woman of fortune,
+if I had been so, was base enough; the putting the face of great things upon
+poor circumstances was a fraud, and bad enough; but the case a little differed
+too, and that in his favour, for he was not a rake that made a trade to delude
+women, and, as some have done, get six or seven fortunes after one another, and
+then rifle and run away from them; but he was really a gentleman, unfortunate
+and low, but had lived well; and though, if I had had a fortune, I should have
+been enraged at the slut for betraying me, yet really for the man, a fortune
+would not have been ill bestowed on him, for he was a lovely person indeed, of
+generous principles, good sense, and of abundance of good-humour.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+We had a great deal of close conversation that night, for we neither of us
+slept much; he was as penitent for having put all those cheats upon me as if it
+had been felony, and that he was going to execution; he offered me again every
+shilling of the money he had about him, and said he would go into the army and
+seek the world for more.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+I asked him why he would be so unkind to carry me into Ireland, when I might
+suppose he could not have subsisted me there. He took me in his arms. &ldquo;My
+dear,&rdquo; said he, &ldquo;depend upon it, I never designed to go to Ireland
+at all, much less to have carried you thither, but came hither to be out of the
+observation of the people, who had heard what I pretended to, and withal, that
+nobody might ask me for money before I was furnished to supply them.&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;But where, then,&rdquo; said I, &ldquo;were we to have gone next?&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;Why, my dear,&rdquo; said he, &ldquo;I&rsquo;ll confess the whole scheme
+to you as I had laid it; I purposed here to ask you something about your
+estate, as you see I did, and when you, as I expected you would, had entered
+into some account with me of the particulars, I would have made an excuse to
+you to have put off our voyage to Ireland for some time, and to have gone first
+towards London.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;Then, my dear,&rdquo; said he, &ldquo;I resolved to have confessed all
+the circumstances of my own affairs to you, and let you know I had indeed made
+use of these artifices to obtain your consent to marry me, but had now nothing
+to do but ask to your pardon, and to tell you how abundantly, as I have said
+above, I would endeavour to make you forget what was past, by the felicity of
+the days to come.&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;Truly,&rdquo; said I to him, &ldquo;I find you would soon have conquered
+me; and it is my affliction now, that I am not in a condition to let you see
+how easily I should have been reconciled to you, and have passed by all the
+tricks you had put upon me, in recompense of so much good-humour. But, my
+dear,&rdquo; said I, &ldquo;what can we do now? We are both undone, and what
+better are we for our being reconciled together, seeing we have nothing to live
+on?&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+We proposed a great many things, but nothing could offer where there was
+nothing to begin with. He begged me at last to talk no more of it, for, he
+said, I would break his heart; so we talked of other things a little, till at
+last he took a husband&rsquo;s leave of me, and so we went to sleep.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+He rose before me in the morning; and indeed, having lain awake almost all
+night, I was very sleepy, and lay till near eleven o&rsquo;clock. In this time
+he took his horses and three servants, and all his linen and baggage, and away
+he went, leaving a short but moving letter for me on the table, as
+follows:&mdash;
+</p>
+
+<p class="letter">
+&ldquo;M<small>Y</small> D<small>EAR</small>&mdash;I am a dog; I have abused you; but I have been drawn into
+do it by a base creature, contrary to my principle and the general practice of
+my life. Forgive me, my dear! I ask your pardon with the greatest sincerity; I
+am the most miserable of men, in having deluded you. I have been so happy to
+possess you, and now am so wretched as to be forced to fly from you. Forgive
+me, my dear; once more I say, forgive me! I am not able to see you ruined by
+me, and myself unable to support you. Our marriage is nothing; I shall never be
+able to see you again; I here discharge you from it; if you can marry to your
+advantage, do not decline it on my account; I here swear to you on my faith,
+and on the word of a man of honour, I will never disturb your repose if I
+should know of it, which, however, is not likely. On the other hand, if you
+should not marry, and if good fortune should befall me, it shall be all yours,
+wherever you are.<br />
+    &rsquo;I have put some of the stock of money I have left into your pocket;
+take places for yourself and your maid in the stage-coach, and go for London; I
+hope it will bear your charges thither, without breaking into your own. Again I
+sincerely ask your pardon, and will do so as often as I shall ever think of
+you.<br />
+        Adieu, my dear, for ever,<br />
+            I am, your most affectionately,<br />
+                J.E.&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Nothing that ever befell me in my life sank so deep into my heart as this
+farewell. I reproached him a thousand times in my thoughts for leaving me, for
+I would have gone with him through the world, if I had begged my bread. I felt
+in my pocket, and there found ten guineas, his gold watch, and two little
+rings, one a small diamond ring worth only about &pound;6, and the other a
+plain gold ring.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+I sat me down and looked upon these things two hours together, and scarce spoke
+a word, till my maid interrupted me by telling me my dinner was ready. I ate
+but little, and after dinner I fell into a vehement fit of crying, every now
+and then calling him by his name, which was James. &ldquo;O Jemmy!&rdquo; said
+I, &ldquo;come back, come back. I&rsquo;ll give you all I have; I&rsquo;ll beg,
+I&rsquo;ll starve with you.&rdquo; And thus I ran raving about the room several
+times, and then sat down between whiles, and then walking about again, called
+upon him to come back, and then cried again; and thus I passed the afternoon,
+till about seven o&rsquo;clock, when it was near dusk, in the evening, being
+August, when, to my unspeakable surprise, he comes back into the inn, but
+without a servant, and comes directly up into my chamber.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+I was in the greatest confusion imaginable, and so was he too. I could not
+imagine what should be the occasion of it, and began to be at odds with myself
+whether to be glad or sorry; but my affection biassed all the rest, and it was
+impossible to conceal my joy, which was too great for smiles, for it burst out
+into tears. He was no sooner entered the room but he ran to me and took me in
+his arms, holding me fast, and almost stopping my breath with his kisses, but
+spoke not a word. At length I began. &ldquo;My dear,&rdquo; said I, &ldquo;how
+could you go away from me?&rdquo; to which he gave no answer, for it was
+impossible for him to speak.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+When our ecstasies were a little over, he told me he was gone about fifteen
+miles, but it was not in his power to go any farther without coming back to see
+me again, and to take his leave of me once more.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+I told him how I had passed my time, and how loud I had called him to come back
+again. He told me he heard me very plain upon Delamere Forest, at a place about
+twelve miles off. I smiled. &ldquo;Nay,&rdquo; says he, &ldquo;do not think I
+am in jest, for if ever I heard your voice in my life, I heard you call me
+aloud, and sometimes I thought I saw you running after me.&rdquo;
+&ldquo;Why,&rdquo; said I, &ldquo;what did I say?&rdquo;&mdash;for I had not
+named the words to him. &ldquo;You called aloud,&rdquo; says he, &ldquo;and
+said, O Jemmy! O Jemmy! come back, come back.&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+I laughed at him. &ldquo;My dear,&rdquo; says he, &ldquo;do not laugh, for,
+depend upon it, I heard your voice as plain as you hear mine now; if you
+please, I&rsquo;ll go before a magistrate and make oath of it.&rdquo; I then
+began to be amazed and surprised, and indeed frightened, and told him what I
+had really done, and how I had called after him, as above.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+When we had amused ourselves a while about this, I said to him: &ldquo;Well,
+you shall go away from me no more; I&rsquo;ll go all over the world with you
+rather.&rdquo; He told me it would be a very difficult thing for him to leave
+me, but since it must be, he hoped I would make it as easy to me as I could;
+but as for him, it would be his destruction that he foresaw.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+However, he told me that he considered he had left me to travel to London
+alone, which was too long a journey; and that as he might as well go that way
+as any way else, he was resolved to see me safe thither, or near it; and if he
+did go away then without taking his leave, I should not take it ill of him; and
+this he made me promise.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+He told me how he had dismissed his three servants, sold their horses, and sent
+the fellows away to seek their fortunes, and all in a little time, at a town on
+the road, I know not where. &ldquo;And,&rdquo; says he, &ldquo;it cost me some
+tears all alone by myself, to think how much happier they were than their
+master, for they could go to the next gentleman&rsquo;s house to see for a
+service, whereas,&rdquo; said he, &ldquo;I knew not wither to go, or what to do
+with myself.&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+I told him I was so completely miserable in parting with him, that I could not
+be worse; and that now he was come again, I would not go from him, if he would
+take me with him, let him go whither he would, or do what he would. And in the
+meantime I agreed that we would go together to London; but I could not be
+brought to consent he should go away at last and not take his leave of me, as
+he proposed to do; but told him, jesting, that if he did, I would call him back
+again as loud as I did before. Then I pulled out his watch and gave it him
+back, and his two rings, and his ten guineas; but he would not take them, which
+made me very much suspect that he resolved to go off upon the road and leave
+me.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+The truth is, the circumstances he was in, the passionate expressions of his
+letter, the kind, gentlemanly treatment I had from him in all the affair, with
+the concern he showed for me in it, his manner of parting with that large share
+which he gave me of his little stock left&mdash;all these had joined to make
+such impressions on me, that I really loved him most tenderly, and could not
+bear the thoughts of parting with him.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Two days after this we quitted Chester, I in the stage-coach, and he on
+horseback. I dismissed my maid at Chester. He was very much against my being
+without a maid, but she being a servant hired in the country, and I resolving
+to keep no servant at London, I told him it would have been barbarous to have
+taken the poor wench and have turned her away as soon as I came to town; and it
+would also have been a needless charge on the road, so I satisfied him, and he
+was easy enough on the score.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+He came with me as far as Dunstable, within thirty miles of London, and then he
+told me fate and his own misfortunes obliged him to leave me, and that it was
+not convenient for him to go to London, for reasons which it was of no value to
+me to know, and I saw him preparing to go. The stage-coach we were in did not
+usually stop at Dunstable, but I desiring it but for a quarter of an hour, they
+were content to stand at an inn-door a while, and we went into the house.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Being in the inn, I told him I had but one favour more to ask of him, and that
+was, that since he could not go any farther, he would give me leave to stay a
+week or two in the town with him, that we might in that time think of something
+to prevent such a ruinous thing to us both, as a final separation would be; and
+that I had something of moment to offer him, that I had never said yet, and
+which perhaps he might find practicable to our mutual advantage.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+This was too reasonable a proposal to be denied, so he called the landlady of
+the house, and told her his wife was taken ill, and so ill that she could not
+think of going any farther in the stage-coach, which had tired her almost to
+death, and asked if she could not get us a lodging for two or three days in a
+private house, where I might rest me a little, for the journey had been too
+much for me. The landlady, a good sort of woman, well-bred and very obliging,
+came immediately to see me; told me she had two or three very good rooms in a
+part of the house quite out of the noise, and if I saw them, she did not doubt
+but I would like them, and I should have one of her maids, that should do
+nothing else but be appointed to wait on me. This was so very kind, that I
+could not but accept of it, and thank her; so I went to look on the rooms and
+liked them very well, and indeed they were extraordinarily furnished, and very
+pleasant lodgings; so we paid the stage-coach, took out our baggage, and
+resolved to stay here a while.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Here I told him I would live with him now till all my money was spent, but
+would not let him spend a shilling of his own. We had some kind squabble about
+that, but I told him it was the last time I was like to enjoy his company, and
+I desired he would let me be master in that thing only, and he should govern in
+everything else; so he acquiesced.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Here one evening, taking a walk into the fields, I told him I would now make
+the proposal to him I had told him of; accordingly I related to him how I had
+lived in Virginia, that I had a mother I believed was alive there still, though
+my husband was dead some years. I told him that had not my effects miscarried,
+which, by the way, I magnified pretty much, I might have been fortune good
+enough to him to have kept us from being parted in this manner. Then I entered
+into the manner of peoples going over to those countries to settle, how they
+had a quantity of land given them by the Constitution of the place; and if not,
+that it might be purchased at so easy a rate this it was not worth naming.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+I then gave him a full and distinct account of the nature of planting; how with
+carrying over but two or three hundred pounds value in English goods, with some
+servants and tools, a man of application would presently lay a foundation for a
+family, and in a very few years be certain to raise an estate.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+I let him into the nature of the product of the earth; how the ground was cured
+and prepared, and what the usual increase of it was; and demonstrated to him,
+that in a very few years, with such a beginning, we should be as certain of
+being rich as we were now certain of being poor.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+He was surprised at my discourse; for we made it the whole subject of our
+conversation for near a week together, in which time I laid it down in black
+and white, as we say, that it was morally impossible, with a supposition of any
+reasonable good conduct, but that we must thrive there and do very well.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Then I told him what measures I would take to raise such a sum of &pound;300 or
+thereabouts; and I argued with him how good a method it would be to put an end
+to our misfortunes and restore our circumstances in the world, to what we had
+both expected; and I added, that after seven years, if we lived, we might be in
+a posture to leave our plantations in good hands, and come over again and
+receive the income of it, and live here and enjoy it; and I gave him examples
+of some that had done so, and lived now in very good circumstances in London.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+In short, I pressed him so to it, that he almost agreed to it, but still
+something or other broke it off again; till at last he turned the tables, and
+he began to talk almost to the same purpose of Ireland.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+He told me that a man that could confine himself to country life, and that
+could find but stock to enter upon any land, should have farms there for
+&pound;50 a year, as good as were here let for &pound;200 a year; that the
+produce was such, and so rich the land, that if much was not laid up, we were
+sure to live as handsomely upon it as a gentleman of &pound;3000 a year could
+do in England and that he had laid a scheme to leave me in London, and go over
+and try; and if he found he could lay a handsome foundation of living suitable
+to the respect he had for me, as he doubted not he should do, he would come
+over and fetch me.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+I was dreadfully afraid that upon such a proposal he would have taken me at my
+word, viz. to sell my little income as I called it, and turn it into money, and
+let him carry it over into Ireland and try his experiment with it; but he was
+too just to desire it, or to have accepted it if I had offered it; and he
+anticipated me in that, for he added, that he would go and try his fortune that
+way, and if he found he could do anything at it to live, then, by adding mine
+to it when I went over, we should live like ourselves; but that he would not
+hazard a shilling of mine till he had made the experiment with a little, and he
+assured me that if he found nothing to be done in Ireland, he would then come
+to me and join in my project for Virginia.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+He was so earnest upon his project being to be tried first, that I could not
+withstand him; however, he promised to let me hear from him in a very little
+time after his arriving there, to let me know whether his prospect answered his
+design, that if there was not a possibility of success, I might take the
+occasion to prepare for our other voyage, and then, he assured me, he would go
+with me to America with all his heart.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+I could bring him to nothing further than this. However, those consultations
+entertained us near a month, during which I enjoyed his company, which indeed
+was the most entertaining that ever I met in my life before. In this time he
+let me into the whole story of his own life, which was indeed surprising, and
+full of an infinite variety sufficient to fill up a much brighter history, for
+its adventures and incidents, than any I ever saw in print; but I shall have
+occasion to say more of him hereafter.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+We parted at last, though with the utmost reluctance on my side; and indeed he
+took his leave very unwillingly too, but necessity obliged him, for his reasons
+were very good why he would not come to London, as I understood more fully some
+time afterwards.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+I gave him a direction how to write to me, though still I reserved the grand
+secret, and never broke my resolution, which was not to let him ever know my
+true name, who I was, or where to be found; he likewise let me know how to
+write a letter to him, so that, he said, he would be sure to receive it.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+I came to London the next day after we parted, but did not go directly to my
+old lodgings; but for another nameless reason took a private lodging in St.
+John&rsquo;s Street, or, as it is vulgarly called, St. Jones&rsquo;s, near
+Clerkenwell; and here, being perfectly alone, I had leisure to sit down and
+reflect seriously upon the last seven months&rsquo; ramble I had made, for I
+had been abroad no less. The pleasant hours I had with my last husband I looked
+back on with an infinite deal of pleasure; but that pleasure was very much
+lessened when I found some time after that I was really with child.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+This was a perplexing thing, because of the difficulty which was before me
+where I should get leave to lie in; it being one of the nicest things in the
+world at that time of day for a woman that was a stranger, and had no friends,
+to be entertained in that circumstance without security, which, by the way, I
+had not, neither could I procure any.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+I had taken care all this while to preserve a correspondence with my honest
+friend at the bank, or rather he took care to correspond with me, for he wrote
+to me once a week; and though I had not spent my money so fast as to want any
+from him, yet I often wrote also to let him know I was alive. I had left
+directions in Lancashire, so that I had these letters, which he sent, conveyed
+to me; and during my recess at St. Jones&rsquo;s received a very obliging
+letter from him, assuring me that his process for a divorce from his wife went
+on with success, though he met with some difficulties in it that he did not
+expect.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+I was not displeased with the news that his process was more tedious than he
+expected; for though I was in no condition to have him yet, not being so
+foolish to marry him when I knew myself to be with child by another man, as
+some I know have ventured to do, yet I was not willing to lose him, and, in a
+word, resolved to have him if he continued in the same mind, as soon as I was
+up again; for I saw apparently I should hear no more from my husband; and as he
+had all along pressed to marry, and had assured me he would not be at all
+disgusted at it, or ever offer to claim me again, so I made no scruple to
+resolve to do it if I could, and if my other friend stood to his bargain; and I
+had a great deal of reason to be assured that he would stand to it, by the
+letters he wrote to me, which were the kindest and most obliging that could be.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+I now grew big, and the people where I lodged perceived it, and began to take
+notice of it to me, and, as far as civility would allow, intimated that I must
+think of removing. This put me to extreme perplexity, and I grew very
+melancholy, for indeed I knew not what course to take. I had money, but no
+friends, and was like to have a child upon my hands to keep, which was a
+difficulty I had never had upon me yet, as the particulars of my story hitherto
+make appear.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+In the course of this affair I fell very ill, and my melancholy really
+increased my distemper; my illness proved at length to be only an ague, but my
+apprehensions were really that I should miscarry. I should not say
+apprehensions, for indeed I would have been glad to miscarry, but I could never
+be brought to entertain so much as a thought of endeavouring to miscarry, or of
+taking any thing to make me miscarry; I abhorred, I say, so much as the thought
+of it.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+However, speaking of it in the house, the gentlewoman who kept the house
+proposed to me to send for a midwife. I scrupled it at first, but after some
+time consented to it, but told her I had no particular acquaintance with any
+midwife, and so left it to her.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+It seems the mistress of the house was not so great a stranger to such cases as
+mine was as I thought at first she had been, as will appear presently, and she
+sent for a midwife of the right sort&mdash;that is to say, the right sort for
+me.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+The woman appeared to be an experienced woman in her business, I mean as a
+midwife; but she had another calling too, in which she was as expert as most
+women if not more. My landlady had told her I was very melancholy, and that she
+believed that had done me harm; and once, before me, said to her, &ldquo;Mrs.
+B&mdash;&mdash;&rdquo; (meaning the midwife), &ldquo;I believe this
+lady&rsquo;s trouble is of a kind that is pretty much in your way, and
+therefore if you can do anything for her, pray do, for she is a very civil
+gentlewoman&rdquo;; and so she went out of the room.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+I really did not understand her, but my Mother Midnight began very seriously to
+explain what she meant, as soon as she was gone. &ldquo;Madam,&rdquo; says she,
+&ldquo;you seem not to understand what your landlady means; and when you do
+understand it, you need not let her know at all that you do so.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;She means that you are under some circumstances that may render your
+lying in difficult to you, and that you are not willing to be exposed. I need
+say no more, but to tell you, that if you think fit to communicate so much of
+your case to me, if it be so, as is necessary, for I do not desire to pry into
+those things, I perhaps may be in a position to help you and to make you
+perfectly easy, and remove all your dull thoughts upon that subject.&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Every word this creature said was a cordial to me, and put new life and new
+spirit into my heart; my blood began to circulate immediately, and I was quite
+another body; I ate my victuals again, and grew better presently after it. She
+said a great deal more to the same purpose, and then, having pressed me to be
+free with her, and promised in the solemnest manner to be secret, she stopped a
+little, as if waiting to see what impression it made on me, and what I would
+say.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+I was too sensible to the want I was in of such a woman, not to accept her
+offer; I told her my case was partly as she guessed, and partly not, for I was
+really married, and had a husband, though he was in such fine circumstances and
+so remote at that time, as that he could not appear publicly.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+She took me short, and told me that was none of her business; all the ladies
+that came under her care were married women to her. &ldquo;Every woman,&rdquo;
+she says, &ldquo;that is with child has a father for it,&rdquo; and whether
+that father was a husband or no husband, was no business of hers; her business
+was to assist me in my present circumstances, whether I had a husband or no.
+&ldquo;For, madam,&rdquo; says she, &ldquo;to have a husband that cannot
+appear, is to have no husband in the sense of the case; and, therefore, whether
+you are a wife or a mistress is all one to me.&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+I found presently, that whether I was a whore or a wife, I was to pass for a
+whore here, so I let that go. I told her it was true, as she said, but that,
+however, if I must tell her my case, I must tell it her as it was; so I related
+it to her as short as I could, and I concluded it to her thus. &ldquo;I trouble
+you with all this, madam,&rdquo; said I, &ldquo;not that, as you said before,
+it is much to the purpose in your affair, but this is to the purpose, namely,
+that I am not in any pain about being seen, or being public or concealed, for
+&rsquo;tis perfectly indifferent to me; but my difficulty is, that I have no
+acquaintance in this part of the nation.&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;I understand you, madam&rdquo; says she; &ldquo;you have no security to
+bring to prevent the parish impertinences usual in such cases, and
+perhaps,&rdquo; says she, &ldquo;do not know very well how to dispose of the
+child when it comes.&rdquo; &ldquo;The last,&rdquo; says I, &ldquo;is not so
+much my concern as the first.&rdquo; &ldquo;Well, madam,&rdquo; answered the
+midwife, &ldquo;dare you put yourself into my hands? I live in such a place;
+though I do not inquire after you, you may inquire after me. My name is
+B&mdash;&mdash;; I live in such a street&rdquo;&mdash;naming the
+street&mdash;&ldquo;at the sign of the Cradle. My profession is a midwife, and
+I have many ladies that come to my house to lie in. I have given security to
+the parish in general terms to secure them from any charge from whatsoever
+shall come into the world under my roof. I have but one question to ask in the
+whole affair, madam,&rdquo; says she, &ldquo;and if that be answered you shall
+be entirely easy for all the rest.&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+I presently understood what she meant, and told her, &ldquo;Madam, I believe I
+understand you. I thank God, though I want friends in this part of the world, I
+do not want money, so far as may be necessary, though I do not abound in that
+neither&rdquo;: this I added because I would not make her expect great things.
+&ldquo;Well, madam,&rdquo; says she, &ldquo;that is the thing indeed, without
+which nothing can be done in these cases; and yet,&rdquo; says she, &ldquo;you
+shall see that I will not impose upon you, or offer anything that is unkind to
+you, and if you desire it, you shall know everything beforehand, that you may
+suit yourself to the occasion, and be neither costly or sparing as you see
+fit.&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+I told her she seemed to be so perfectly sensible of my condition, that I had
+nothing to ask of her but this, that as I had told her that I had money
+sufficient, but not a great quantity, she would order it so that I might be at
+as little superfluous charge as possible.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+She replied that she would bring in an account of the expenses of it in two or
+three shapes, and like a bill of fare, I should choose as I pleased; and I
+desired her to do so.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+The next day she brought it, and the copy of her three bills was as
+follows:&mdash;
+</p>
+
+<pre>
+1.  For three months&rsquo; lodging in her house, including
+    my diet, at 10s. a week . . . . . . . . . . . 6&pound;,  0s., 0d.
+
+2.  For a nurse for the month, and use of childbed
+    linen . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 1&pound;, 10s., 0d.
+
+3.  For a minister to christen the child, and to the
+    godfathers and clerk  . . . . . . . . . . . . 1&pound;, 10s., 0d.
+
+4.  For a supper at the christening if I had five friends
+    at it . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 1&pound;,  0s., 0d.
+
+    For her fees as a midwife, and the taking off the
+    trouble of the parish . . . . . . . . . . . . 3&pound;,  3s., 0d.
+
+    To her maid servant attending . . . . . . . . 0&pound;, 10s., 0d.
+                                                 --------------
+                                                 13&pound;, 13s., 0d.
+</pre>
+
+<p>
+
+This was the first bill; the second was the same terms:&mdash;
+
+</p>
+
+<pre>
+1.  For three months&rsquo; lodging and diet, etc., at 20s.
+    per week . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 13&pound;,  0s., 0d.
+
+2.  For a nurse for the month, and the use of linen
+    and lace . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .  2&pound;, 10s., 0d.
+
+3.  For the minister to christen the child, etc., as
+    above . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 2&pound;,  0s., 0d.
+
+4.  For supper and for sweetmeats
+    . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 3&pound;,  3s., 0d.
+
+    For her fees as above . . . . . . . . . . . . 5&pound;,  5s., 0d.
+
+    For a servant-maid  . . . . . . . . . . . . . 1&pound;,  0s., 0d.
+                                                 --------------
+                                                 26&pound;, 18s., 0d.
+</pre>
+
+<p>
+
+This was the second-rate bill; the third, she said, was for a degree
+higher, and when the father or friends appeared:&mdash;
+
+</p>
+
+<pre>
+1.  For three months&rsquo; lodging and diet, having two
+    rooms and a garret for a servant . . . . . . 30&pound;,  0s., 0d.,
+
+2.  For a nurse for the month, and the finest suit
+    of childbed linen . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 4&pound;,  4s., 0d.
+
+3.  For the minister to christen the child, etc.  2&pound;, 10s., 0d.
+
+4.  For a supper, the gentlemen to send in the
+    wine . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .  6&pound;,  0s., 0d.
+
+    For my fees, etc. . . . . . . . . . . . . .  10&pound;, 10s., 0d.
+
+    The maid, besides their own maid, only
+    . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 0&pound;, 10s., 0d.
+                                                 --------------
+                                                 53&pound;, 14s., 0d.
+</pre>
+
+<p>
+I looked upon all three bills, and smiled, and told her I did not see but that
+she was very reasonable in her demands, all things considered, and for that I
+did not doubt but her accommodations were good.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+She told me I should be judge of that when I saw them. I told her I was sorry
+to tell her that I feared I must be her lowest-rated customer. &ldquo;And
+perhaps, madam,&rdquo; said I, &ldquo;you will make me the less welcome upon
+that account.&rdquo; &ldquo;No, not at all,&rdquo; said she; &ldquo;for where I
+have one of the third sort I have two of the second, and four to one of the
+first, and I get as much by them in proportion as by any; but if you doubt my
+care of you, I will allow any friend you have to overlook and see if you are
+well waited on or no.&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Then she explained the particulars of her bill. &ldquo;In the first place,
+madam,&rdquo; said she, &ldquo;I would have you observe that here is three
+months&rsquo; keeping; you are but ten shillings a week; I undertake to say you
+will not complain of my table. I suppose,&rdquo; says she, &ldquo;you do not
+live cheaper where you are now?&rdquo; &ldquo;No, indeed,&rdquo; said I,
+&ldquo;not so cheap, for I give six shillings per week for my chamber, and find
+my own diet as well as I can, which costs me a great deal more.&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;Then, madam,&rdquo; says she, &ldquo;if the child should not live, or
+should be dead-born, as you know sometimes happens, then there is the
+minister&rsquo;s article saved; and if you have no friends to come to you, you
+may save the expense of a supper; so that take those articles out,
+madam,&rdquo; says she, &ldquo;your lying in will not cost you above &pound;5,
+3s. in all more than your ordinary charge of living.&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+This was the most reasonable thing that I ever heard of; so I smiled, and told
+her I would come and be her customer; but I told her also, that as I had two
+months and more to do, I might perhaps be obliged to stay longer with her than
+three months, and desired to know if she would not be obliged to remove me
+before it was proper. No, she said; her house was large, and besides, she never
+put anybody to remove, that had lain in, till they were willing to go; and if
+she had more ladies offered, she was not so ill-beloved among her neighbours
+but she could provide accommodations for twenty, if there was occasion.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+I found she was an eminent lady in her way; and, in short, I agreed to put
+myself into her hands, and promised her. She then talked of other things,
+looked about into my accommodations where I was, found fault with my wanting
+attendance and conveniences, and that I should not be used so at her house. I
+told her I was shy of speaking, for the woman of the house looked stranger, or
+at least I thought so, since I had been ill, because I was with child; and I
+was afraid she would put some affront or other upon me, supposing that I had
+been able to give but a slight account of myself.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;Oh dear,&rdquo; said she, &ldquo;her ladyship is no stranger to these
+things; she has tried to entertain ladies in your condition several times, but
+she could not secure the parish; and besides, she is not such a nice lady as
+you take her to be; however, since you are a-going, you shall not meddle with
+her, but I&rsquo;ll see you are a little better looked after while you are here
+than I think you are, and it shall not cost you the more neither.&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+I did not understand her at all; however, I thanked her, and so we parted. The
+next morning she sent me a chicken roasted and hot, and a pint bottle of
+sherry, and ordered the maid to tell me that she was to wait on me every day as
+long as I stayed there.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+This was surprisingly good and kind, and I accepted it very willingly. At night
+she sent to me again, to know if I wanted anything, and how I did, and to order
+the maid to come to her in the morning with my dinner. The maid had orders to
+make me some chocolate in the morning before she came away, and did so, and at
+noon she brought me the sweetbread of a breast of veal, whole, and a dish of
+soup for my dinner; and after this manner she nursed me up at a distance, so
+that I was mightily well pleased, and quickly well, for indeed my dejections
+before were the principal part of my illness.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+I expected, as is usually the case among such people, that the servant she sent
+me would have been some imprudent brazen wench of Drury Lane breeding, and I
+was very uneasy at having her with me upon that account; so I would not let her
+lie in that house the first night by any means, but had my eyes about me as
+narrowly as if she had been a public thief.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+My gentlewoman guessed presently what was the matter, and sent her back with a
+short note, that I might depend upon the honesty of her maid; that she would be
+answerable for her upon all accounts; and that she took no servants into her
+house without very good security for their fidelity. I was then perfectly easy;
+and indeed the maid&rsquo;s behaviour spoke for itself, for a modester,
+quieter, soberer girl never came into anybody&rsquo;s family, and I found her
+so afterwards.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+As soon as I was well enough to go abroad, I went with the maid to see the
+house, and to see the apartment I was to have; and everything was so handsome
+and so clean and well, that, in short, I had nothing to say, but was
+wonderfully pleased and satisfied with what I had met with, which, considering
+the melancholy circumstances I was in, was far beyond what I looked for.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+It might be expected that I should give some account of the nature of the
+wicked practices of this woman, in whose hands I was now fallen; but it would
+be too much encouragement to the vice, to let the world see what easy measures
+were here taken to rid the women&rsquo;s unwelcome burthen of a child
+clandestinely gotten. This grave matron had several sorts of practice, and this
+was one particular, that if a child was born, though not in her house (for she
+had occasion to be called to many private labours), she had people at hand, who
+for a piece of money would take the child off their hands, and off from the
+hands of the parish too; and those children, as she said, were honestly
+provided for and taken care of. What should become of them all, considering so
+many, as by her account she was concerned with, I cannot conceive.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+I had many times discourses upon that subject with her; but she was full of
+this argument, that she save the life of many an innocent lamb, as she called
+them, which would otherwise perhaps have been murdered; and of many women who,
+made desperate by the misfortune, would otherwise be tempted to destroy their
+children, and bring themselves to the gallows. I granted her that this was
+true, and a very commendable thing, provided the poor children fell into good
+hands afterwards, and were not abused, starved, and neglected by the nurses
+that bred them up. She answered, that she always took care of that, and had no
+nurses in her business but what were very good, honest people, and such as
+might be depended upon.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+I could say nothing to the contrary, and so was obliged to say, &ldquo;Madam, I
+do not question you do your part honestly, but what those people do afterwards
+is the main question&rdquo;; and she stopped my mouth again with saying that
+she took the utmost care about it.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+The only thing I found in all her conversation on these subjects that gave me
+any distaste, was, that one time in discouraging about my being far gone with
+child, and the time I expected to come, she said something that looked as if
+she could help me off with my burthen sooner, if I was willing; or, in English,
+that she could give me something to make me miscarry, if I had a desire to put
+an end to my troubles that way; but I soon let her see that I abhorred the
+thoughts of it; and, to do her justice, she put it off so cleverly, that I
+could not say she really intended it, or whether she only mentioned the
+practice as a horrible thing; for she couched her words so well, and took my
+meaning so quickly, that she gave her negative before I could explain myself.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+To bring this part into as narrow a compass as possible, I quitted my lodging
+at St. Jones&rsquo;s and went to my new governess, for so they called her in
+the house, and there I was indeed treated with so much courtesy, so carefully
+looked to, so handsomely provided, and everything so well, that I was surprised
+at it, and could not at first see what advantage my governess made of it; but I
+found afterwards that she professed to make no profit of lodgers&rsquo; diet,
+nor indeed could she get much by it, but that her profit lay in the other
+articles of her management, and she made enough that way, I assure you; for
+&rsquo;tis scarce credible what practice she had, as well abroad as at home,
+and yet all upon the private account, or, in plain English, the whoring
+account.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+While I was in her house, which was near four months, she had no less than
+twelve ladies of pleasure brought to bed within the doors, and I think she had
+two-and-thirty, or thereabouts, under her conduct without doors, whereof one,
+as nice as she was with me, was lodged with my old landlady at St.
+Jones&rsquo;s.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+This was a strange testimony of the growing vice of the age, and such a one,
+that as bad as I had been myself, it shocked my very senses. I began to
+nauseate the place I was in and, about all, the wicked practice; and yet I must
+say that I never saw, or do I believe there was to be seen, the least indecency
+in the house the whole time I was there.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Not a man was ever seen to come upstairs, except to visit the lying-in ladies
+within their month, nor then without the old lady with them, who made it a
+piece of honour of her management that no man should touch a woman, no, not his
+own wife, within the month; nor would she permit any man to lie in the house
+upon any pretence whatever, no, not though she was sure it was with his own
+wife; and her general saying for it was, that she cared not how many children
+were born in her house, but she would have none got there if she could help it.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+It might perhaps be carried further than was needful, but it was an error of
+the right hand if it was an error, for by this she kept up the reputation, such
+as it was, of her business, and obtained this character, that though she did
+take care of the women when they were debauched, yet she was not instrumental
+to their being debauched at all; and yet it was a wicked trade she drove too.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+While I was there, and before I was brought to bed, I received a letter from my
+trustee at the bank, full of kind, obliging things, and earnestly pressing me
+to return to London. It was near a fortnight old when it came to me, because it
+had been first sent into Lancashire, and then returned to me. He concludes with
+telling me that he had obtained a decree, I think he called it, against his
+wife, and that he would be ready to make good his engagement to me, if I would
+accept of him, adding a great many protestations of kindness and affection,
+such as he would have been far from offering if he had known the circumstances
+I had been in, and which as it was I had been very far from deserving.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+I returned an answer to his letter, and dated it at Liverpool, but sent it by
+messenger, alleging that it came in cover to a friend in town. I gave him joy
+of his deliverance, but raised some scruples at the lawfulness of his marrying
+again, and told him I supposed he would consider very seriously upon that point
+before he resolved on it, the consequence being too great for a man of his
+judgment to venture rashly upon a thing of that nature; so concluded, wishing
+him very well in whatever he resolved, without letting him into anything of my
+own mind, or giving any answer to his proposal of my coming to London to him,
+but mentioned at a distance my intention to return the latter end of the year,
+this being dated in April.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+I was brought to bed about the middle of May and had another brave boy, and
+myself in as good condition as usual on such occasions. My governess did her
+part as a midwife with the greatest art and dexterity imaginable, and far
+beyond all that ever I had had any experience of before.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Her care of me in my travail, and after in my lying in, was such, that if she
+had been my own mother it could not have been better. Let none be encouraged in
+their loose practices from this dexterous lady&rsquo;s management, for she is
+gone to her place, and I dare say has left nothing behind her that can or will
+come up on it.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+I think I had been brought to bed about twenty-two days when I received another
+letter from my friend at the bank, with the surprising news that he had
+obtained a final sentence of divorce against his wife, and had served her with
+it on such a day, and that he had such an answer to give to all my scruples
+about his marrying again, as I could not expect, and as he had no desire of;
+for that his wife, who had been under some remorse before for her usage of him,
+as soon as she had the account that he had gained his point, had very unhappily
+destroyed herself that same evening.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+He expressed himself very handsomely as to his being concerned at her disaster,
+but cleared himself of having any hand in it, and that he had only done himself
+justice in a case in which he was notoriously injured and abused. However, he
+said that he was extremely afflicted at it, and had no view of any satisfaction
+left in his world, but only in the hope that I would come and relieve him by my
+company; and then he pressed me violently indeed to give him some hopes that I
+would at least come up to town and let him see me, when he would further enter
+into discourse about it.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+I was exceedingly surprised at the news, and began now seriously to reflect on
+my present circumstances, and the inexpressible misfortune it was to me to have
+a child upon my hands, and what to do in it I knew not. At last I opened my
+case at a distance to my governess. I appeared melancholy and uneasy for
+several days, and she lay at me continually to know what trouble me. I could
+not for my life tell her that I had an offer of marriage, after I had so often
+told her that I had a husband, so that I really knew not what to say to her. I
+owned I had something which very much troubled me, but at the same time told
+her I could not speak of it to any one alive.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+She continued importuning me several days, but it was impossible, I told her,
+for me to commit the secret to anybody. This, instead of being an answer to
+her, increased her importunities; she urged her having been trusted with the
+greatest secrets of this nature, that it was her business to conceal
+everything, and that to discover things of that nature would be her ruin. She
+asked me if ever I had found her tattling to me of other people&rsquo;s
+affairs, and how could I suspect her? She told me, to unfold myself to her was
+telling it to nobody; that she was silent as death; that it must be a very
+strange case indeed that she could not help me out of; but to conceal it was to
+deprive myself of all possible help, or means of help, and to deprive her of
+the opportunity of serving me. In short, she had such a bewitching eloquence,
+and so great a power of persuasion that there was no concealing anything from
+her.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+So I resolved to unbosom myself to her. I told her the history of my Lancashire
+marriage, and how both of us had been disappointed; how we came together, and
+how we parted; how he absolutely discharged me, as far as lay in him, free
+liberty to marry again, protesting that if he knew it he would never claim me,
+or disturb or expose me; that I thought I was free, but was dreadfully afraid
+to venture, for fear of the consequences that might follow in case of a
+discovery.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Then I told her what a good offer I had; showed her my friend&rsquo;s two last
+letters, inviting me to come to London, and let her see with what affection and
+earnestness they were written, but blotted out the name, and also the story
+about the disaster of his wife, only that she was dead.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+She fell a-laughing at my scruples about marrying, and told me the other was no
+marriage, but a cheat on both sides; and that, as we were parted by mutual
+consent, the nature of the contract was destroyed, and the obligation was
+mutually discharged. She had arguments for this at the tip of her tongue; and,
+in short, reasoned me out of my reason; not but that it was too by the help of
+my own inclination.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+But then came the great and main difficulty, and that was the child; this, she
+told me in so many words, must be removed, and that so as that it should never
+be possible for any one to discover it. I knew there was no marrying without
+entirely concealing that I had had a child, for he would soon have discovered
+by the age of it that it was born, nay, and gotten too, since my parley with
+him, and that would have destroyed all the affair.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+But it touched my heart so forcibly to think of parting entirely with the
+child, and, for aught I knew, of having it murdered, or starved by neglect and
+ill-usage (which was much the same), that I could not think of it without
+horror. I wish all those women who consent to the disposing their children out
+of the way, as it is called, for decency sake, would consider that &rsquo;tis
+only a contrived method for murder; that is to say, a-killing their children
+with safety.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+It is manifest to all that understand anything of children, that we are born
+into the world helpless, and incapable either to supply our own wants or so
+much as make them known; and that without help we must perish; and this help
+requires not only an assisting hand, whether of the mother or somebody else,
+but there are two things necessary in that assisting hand, that is, care and
+skill; without both which, half the children that are born would die, nay,
+though they were not to be denied food; and one half more of those that
+remained would be cripples or fools, lose their limbs, and perhaps their sense.
+I question not but that these are partly the reasons why affection was placed
+by nature in the hearts of mothers to their children; without which they would
+never be able to give themselves up, as &rsquo;tis necessary they should, to
+the care and waking pains needful to the support of their children.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Since this care is needful to the life of children, to neglect them is to
+murder them; again, to give them up to be managed by those people who have none
+of that needful affection placed by nature in them, is to neglect them in the
+highest degree; nay, in some it goes farther, and is a neglect in order to
+their being lost; so that &rsquo;tis even an intentional murder, whether the
+child lives or dies.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+All those things represented themselves to my view, and that is the blackest
+and most frightful form: and as I was very free with my governess, whom I had
+now learned to call mother, I represented to her all the dark thoughts which I
+had upon me about it, and told her what distress I was in. She seemed graver by
+much at this part than at the other; but as she was hardened in these things
+beyond all possibility of being touched with the religious part, and the
+scruples about the murder, so she was equally impenetrable in that part which
+related to affection. She asked me if she had not been careful and tender to me
+in my lying in, as if I had been her own child. I told her I owned she had.
+&ldquo;Well, my dear,&rdquo; says she, &ldquo;and when you are gone, what are
+you to me? And what would it be to me if you were to be hanged? Do you think
+there are not women who, as it is their trade and they get their bread by it,
+value themselves upon their being as careful of children as their own mothers
+can be, and understand it rather better? Yes, yes, child,&rdquo; says she,
+&ldquo;fear it not; how were we nursed ourselves? Are you sure you was nursed
+up by your own mother? and yet you look fat and fair, child,&rdquo; says the
+old beldam; and with that she stroked me over the face. &ldquo;Never be
+concerned, child,&rdquo; says she, going on in her drolling way; &ldquo;I have
+no murderers about me; I employ the best and the honestest nurses that can be
+had, and have as few children miscarry under their hands as there would if they
+were all nursed by mothers; we want neither care nor skill.&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+She touched me to the quick when she asked if I was sure that I was nursed by
+my own mother; on the contrary I was sure I was not; and I trembled, and looked
+pale at the very expression. &ldquo;Sure,&rdquo; said I to myself, &ldquo;this
+creature cannot be a witch, or have any conversation with a spirit, that can
+inform her what was done with me before I was able to know it myself&rdquo;;
+and I looked at her as if I had been frightened; but reflecting that it could
+not be possible for her to know anything about me, that disorder went off, and
+I began to be easy, but it was not presently.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+She perceived the disorder I was in, but did not know the meaning of it; so she
+ran on in her wild talk upon the weakness of my supposing that children were
+murdered because they were not all nursed by the mother, and to persuade me
+that the children she disposed of were as well used as if the mothers had the
+nursing of them themselves.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;It may be true, mother,&rdquo; says I, &ldquo;for aught I know, but my
+doubts are very strongly grounded indeed.&rdquo; &ldquo;Come, then,&rdquo; says
+she, &ldquo;let&rsquo;s hear some of them.&rdquo; &ldquo;Why, first,&rdquo;
+says I, &ldquo;you give a piece of money to these people to take the child off
+the parent&rsquo;s hands, and to take care of it as long as it lives. Now we
+know, mother,&rdquo; said I, &ldquo;that those are poor people, and their gain
+consists in being quit of the charge as soon as they can; how can I doubt but
+that, as it is best for them to have the child die, they are not over
+solicitous about life?&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;This is all vapours and fancy,&rdquo; says the old woman; &ldquo;I tell
+you their credit depends upon the child&rsquo;s life, and they are as careful
+as any mother of you all.&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;O mother,&rdquo; says I, &ldquo;if I was but sure my little baby would
+be carefully looked to, and have justice done it, I should be happy indeed; but
+it is impossible I can be satisfied in that point unless I saw it, and to see
+it would be ruin and destruction to me, as now my case stands; so what to do I
+know not.&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;A fine story!&rdquo; says the governess. &ldquo;You would see the child,
+and you would not see the child; you would be concealed and discovered both
+together. These are things impossible, my dear; so you must e&rsquo;en do as
+other conscientious mothers have done before you, and be contented with things
+as they must be, though they are not as you wish them to be.&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+I understood what she meant by conscientious mothers; she would have said
+conscientious whores, but she was not willing to disoblige me, for really in
+this case I was not a whore, because legally married, the force of former
+marriage excepted.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+However, let me be what I would, I was not come up to that pitch of hardness
+common to the profession; I mean, to be unnatural, and regardless of the safety
+of my child; and I preserved this honest affection so long, that I was upon the
+point of giving up my friend at the bank, who lay so hard at me to come to him
+and marry him, that, in short, there was hardly any room to deny him.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+At last my old governess came to me, with her usual assurance. &ldquo;Come, my
+dear,&rdquo; says she, &ldquo;I have found out a way how you shall be at a
+certainty that your child shall be used well, and yet the people that take care
+of it shall never know you, or who the mother of the child is.&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;Oh mother,&rdquo; says I, &ldquo;if you can do so, you will engage me to
+you for ever.&rdquo; &ldquo;Well,&rdquo; says she, &ldquo;are you willing to be
+a some small annual expense, more than what we usually give to the people we
+contract with?&rdquo; &ldquo;Ay,&rdquo; says I, &ldquo;with all my heart,
+provided I may be concealed.&rdquo; &ldquo;As to that,&rdquo; says the
+governess, &ldquo;you shall be secure, for the nurse shall never so much as
+dare to inquire about you, and you shall once or twice a year go with me and
+see your child, and see how &rsquo;tis used, and be satisfied that it is in
+good hands, nobody knowing who you are.&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;Why,&rdquo; said I, &ldquo;do you think, mother, that when I come to see
+my child, I shall be able to conceal my being the mother of it? Do you think
+that possible?&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;Well, well,&rdquo; says my governess, &ldquo;if you discover it, the
+nurse shall be never the wiser; for she shall be forbid to ask any questions
+about you, or to take any notice. If she offers it, she shall lose the money
+which you are suppose to give her, and the child shall be taken from her
+too.&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+I was very well pleased with this. So the next week a countrywoman was brought
+from Hertford, or thereabouts, who was to take the child off our hands entirely
+for &pound;10 in money. But if I would allow &pound;5 a year more of her, she
+would be obliged to bring the child to my governess&rsquo;s house as often as
+we desired, or we should come down and look at it, and see how well she used
+it.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+The woman was very wholesome-looking, a likely woman, a cottager&rsquo;s wife,
+but she had very good clothes and linen, and everything well about her; and
+with a heavy heart and many a tear, I let her have my child. I had been down at
+Hertford, and looked at her and at her dwelling, which I liked well enough; and
+I promised her great things if she would be kind to the child, so she knew at
+first word that I was the child&rsquo;s mother. But she seemed to be so much
+out of the way, and to have no room to inquire after me, that I thought I was
+safe enough. So, in short, I consented to let her have the child, and I gave
+her &pound;10; that is to say, I gave it to my governess, who gave it the poor
+woman before my face, she agreeing never to return the child back to me, or to
+claim anything more for its keeping or bringing up; only that I promised, if
+she took a great deal of care of it, I would give her something more as often
+as I came to see it; so that I was not bound to pay the &pound;5, only that I
+promised my governess I would do it. And thus my great care was over, after a
+manner, which though it did not at all satisfy my mind, yet was the most
+convenient for me, as my affairs then stood, of any that could be thought of at
+that time.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+I then began to write to my friend at the bank in a more kindly style, and
+particularly about the beginning of July I sent him a letter, that I proposed
+to be in town some time in August. He returned me an answer in the most
+passionate terms imaginable, and desired me to let him have timely notice, and
+he would come and meet me, two day&rsquo;s journey. This puzzled me scurvily,
+and I did not know what answer to make of it. Once I resolved to take the
+stage-coach to West Chester, on purpose only to have the satisfaction of coming
+back, that he might see me really come in the same coach; for I had a jealous
+thought, though I had no ground for it at all, lest he should think I was not
+really in the country. And it was no ill-grounded thought as you shall hear
+presently.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+I endeavoured to reason myself out of it, but it was in vain; the impression
+lay so strong on my mind, that it was not to be resisted. At last it came as an
+addition to my new design of going into the country, that it would be an
+excellent blind to my old governess, and would cover entirely all my other
+affairs, for she did not know in the least whether my new lover lived in London
+or in Lancashire; and when I told her my resolution, she was fully persuaded it
+was in Lancashire.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Having taken my measure for this journey I let her know it, and sent the maid
+that tended me, from the beginning, to take a place for me in the coach. She
+would have had me let the maid have waited on me down to the last stage, and
+come up again in the waggon, but I convinced her it would not be convenient.
+When I went away, she told me she would enter into no measures for
+correspondence, for she saw evidently that my affection to my child would cause
+me to write to her, and to visit her too when I came to town again. I assured
+her it would, and so took my leave, well satisfied to have been freed from such
+a house, however good my accommodations there had been, as I have related
+above.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+I took the place in the coach not to its full extent, but to a place called
+Stone, in Cheshire, I think it is, where I not only had no manner of business,
+but not so much as the least acquaintance with any person in the town or near
+it. But I knew that with money in the pocket one is at home anywhere; so I
+lodged there two or three days, till, watching my opportunity, I found room in
+another stage-coach, and took passage back again for London, sending a letter
+to my gentleman that I should be such a certain day at Stony-Stratford, where
+the coachman told me he was to lodge.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+It happened to be a chance coach that I had taken up, which, having been hired
+on purpose to carry some gentlemen to West Chester who were going for Ireland,
+was now returning, and did not tie itself to exact times or places as the
+stages did; so that, having been obliged to lie still on Sunday, he had time to
+get himself ready to come out, which otherwise he could not have done.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+However, his warning was so short, that he could not reach to Stony-Stratford
+time enough to be with me at night, but he met me at a place called Brickhill
+the next morning, as we were just coming in to tow.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+I confess I was very glad to see him, for I had thought myself a little
+disappointed over-night, seeing I had gone so far to contrive my coming on
+purpose. He pleased me doubly too by the figure he came in, for he brought a
+very handsome (gentleman&rsquo;s) coach and four horses, with a servant to
+attend him.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+He took me out of the stage-coach immediately, which stopped at an inn in
+Brickhill; and putting into the same inn, he set up his own coach, and bespoke
+his dinner. I asked him what he meant by that, for I was for going forward with
+the journey. He said, No, I had need of a little rest upon the road, and that
+was a very good sort of a house, though it was but a little town; so we would
+go no farther that night, whatever came of it.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+I did not press him much, for since he had come so to meet me, and put himself
+to so much expense, it was but reasonable I should oblige him a little too; so
+I was easy as to that point.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+After dinner we walked to see the town, to see the church, and to view the
+fields, and the country, as is usual for strangers to do; and our landlord was
+our guide in going to see the church. I observed my gentleman inquired pretty
+much about the parson, and I took the hint immediately that he certainly would
+propose to be married; and though it was a sudden thought, it followed
+presently, that, in short, I would not refuse him; for, to be plain, with my
+circumstances I was in no condition now to say No; I had no reason now to run
+any more such hazards.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+But while these thoughts ran round in my head, which was the work but of a few
+moments, I observed my landlord took him aside and whispered to him, though not
+very softly neither, for so much I overheard: &ldquo;Sir, if you shall have
+occasion&mdash;&mdash;&rdquo; the rest I could not hear, but it seems it was to
+this purpose: &ldquo;Sir, if you shall have occasion for a minister, I have a
+friend a little way off that will serve you, and be as private as you
+please.&rdquo; My gentleman answered loud enough for me to hear, &ldquo;Very
+well, I believe I shall.&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+I was no sooner come back to the inn but he fell upon me with irresistible
+words, that since he had had the good fortune to meet me, and everything
+concurred, it would be hastening his felicity if I would put an end to the
+matter just there. &ldquo;What do you mean?&rdquo; says I, colouring a little.
+&ldquo;What, in an inn, and upon the road! Bless us all,&rdquo; said I, as if I
+had been surprised, &ldquo;how can you talk so?&rdquo; &ldquo;Oh, I can talk so
+very well,&rdquo; says he, &ldquo;I came a-purpose to talk so, and I&rsquo;ll
+show you that I did&rdquo;; and with that he pulls out a great bundle of
+papers. &ldquo;You fright me,&rdquo; said I; &ldquo;what are all these?&rdquo;
+&ldquo;Don&rsquo;t be frighted, my dear,&rdquo; said he, and kissed me. This
+was the first time that he had been so free to call me &ldquo;my dear&rdquo;;
+then he repeated it, &ldquo;Don&rsquo;t be frighted; you shall see what it is
+all&rdquo;; then he laid them all abroad. There was first the deed or sentence
+of divorce from his wife, and the full evidence of her playing the whore; then
+there were the certificates of the minister and churchwardens of the parish
+where she lived, proving that she was buried, and intimating the manner of her
+death; the copy of the coroner&rsquo;s warrant for a jury to sit upon her, and
+the verdict of the jury, who brought it in Non compos mentis. All this was
+indeed to the purpose, and to give me satisfaction, though, by the way, I was
+not so scrupulous, had he known all, but that I might have taken him without
+it. However, I looked them all over as well as I could, and told him that this
+was all very clear indeed, but that he need not have given himself the trouble
+to have brought them out with him, for it was time enough. Well, he said, it
+might be time enough for me, but no time but the present time was time enough
+for him.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+There were other papers rolled up, and I asked him what they were. &ldquo;Why,
+ay,&rdquo; says he, &ldquo;that&rsquo;s the question I wanted to have you ask
+me&rdquo;; so he unrolls them and takes out a little shagreen case, and gives
+me out of it a very fine diamond ring. I could not refuse it, if I had a mind
+to do so, for he put it upon my finger; so I made him a curtsy and accepted it.
+Then he takes out another ring: &ldquo;And this,&rdquo; says he, &ldquo;is for
+another occasion,&rdquo; so he puts that in his pocket. &ldquo;Well, but let me
+see it, though,&rdquo; says I, and smiled; &ldquo;I guess what it is; I think
+you are mad.&rdquo; &ldquo;I should have been mad if I had done less,&rdquo;
+says he, and still he did not show me, and I had a great mind to see it; so I
+says, &ldquo;Well, but let me see it.&rdquo; &ldquo;Hold,&rdquo; says he,
+&ldquo;first look here&rdquo;; then he took up the roll again and read it, and
+behold! it was a licence for us to be married. &ldquo;Why,&rdquo; says I,
+&ldquo;are you distracted? Why, you were fully satisfied that I would comply
+and yield at first word, or resolved to take no denial.&rdquo; &ldquo;The last
+is certainly the case,&rdquo; said he. &ldquo;But you may be mistaken,&rdquo;
+said I. &ldquo;No, no,&rdquo; says he, &ldquo;how can you think so? I must not
+be denied, I can&rsquo;t be denied&rdquo;; and with that he fell to kissing me
+so violently, I could not get rid of him.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+There was a bed in the room, and we were walking to and again, eager in the
+discourse; at last he takes me by surprise in his arms, and threw me on the bed
+and himself with me, and holding me fast in his arms, but without the least
+offer of any indecency, courted me to consent with such repeated entreaties and
+arguments, protesting his affection, and vowing he would not let me go till I
+had promised him, that at last I said, &ldquo;Why, you resolve not to be
+denied, indeed, I can&rsquo;t be denied.&rdquo; &ldquo;Well, well,&rdquo; said
+I, and giving him a slight kiss, &ldquo;then you shan&rsquo;t be denied,&rdquo;
+said I; &ldquo;let me get up.&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+He was so transported with my consent, and the kind manner of it, that I began
+to think once he took it for a marriage, and would not stay for the form; but I
+wronged him, for he gave over kissing me, and then giving me two or three
+kisses again, thanked me for my kind yielding to him; and was so overcome with
+the satisfaction and joy of it, that I saw tears stand in his eyes.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+I turned from him, for it filled my eyes with tears too, and I asked him leave
+to retire a little to my chamber. If ever I had a grain of true repentance for
+a vicious and abominable life for twenty-four years past, it was then. Oh, what
+a felicity is it to mankind, said I to myself, that they cannot see into the
+hearts of one another! How happy had it been for me if I had been wife to a man
+of so much honesty, and so much affection from the beginning!
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Then it occurred to me, &ldquo;What an abominable creature am I! and how is
+this innocent gentleman going to be abused by me! How little does he think,
+that having divorced a whore, he is throwing himself into the arms of another!
+that he is going to marry one that has lain with two brothers, and has had
+three children by her own brother! one that was born in Newgate, whose mother
+was a whore, and is now a transported thief! one that has lain with thirteen
+men, and has had a child since he saw me! Poor gentleman!&rdquo; said I,
+&ldquo;what is he going to do?&rdquo; After this reproaching myself was over,
+it following thus: &ldquo;Well, if I must be his wife, if it please God to give
+me grace, I&rsquo;ll be a true wife to him, and love him suitably to the
+strange excess of his passion for me; I will make him amends if possible, by
+what he shall see, for the cheats and abuses I put upon him, which he does not
+see.&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+He was impatient for my coming out of my chamber, but finding me long, he went
+downstairs and talked with my landlord about the parson.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+My landlord, an officious though well-meaning fellow, had sent away for the
+neighbouring clergyman; and when my gentleman began to speak of it to him, and
+talk of sending for him, &ldquo;Sir,&rdquo; says he to him, &ldquo;my friend is
+in the house&rdquo;; so without any more words he brought them together. When
+he came to the minister, he asked him if he would venture to marry a couple of
+strangers that were both willing. The parson said that Mr. &mdash;&mdash; had
+said something to him of it; that he hoped it was no clandestine business; that
+he seemed to be a grave gentleman, and he supposed madam was not a girl, so
+that the consent of friends should be wanted. &ldquo;To put you out of doubt of
+that,&rdquo; says my gentleman, &ldquo;read this paper&rdquo;; and out he pulls
+the license. &ldquo;I am satisfied,&rdquo; says the minister; &ldquo;where is
+the lady?&rdquo; &ldquo;You shall see her presently,&rdquo; says my gentleman.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+When he had said thus he comes upstairs, and I was by that time come out of my
+room; so he tells me the minister was below, and that he had talked with him,
+and that upon showing him the license, he was free to marry us with all his
+heart, &ldquo;but he asks to see you&rdquo;; so he asked if I would let him
+come up.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;&rsquo;Tis time enough,&rdquo; said I, &ldquo;in the morning, is it
+not?&rdquo; &ldquo;Why,&rdquo; said he, &ldquo;my dear, he seemed to scruple
+whether it was not some young girl stolen from her parents, and I assured him
+we were both of age to command our own consent; and that made him ask to see
+you.&rdquo; &ldquo;Well,&rdquo; said I, &ldquo;do as you please&rdquo;; so up
+they brings the parson, and a merry, good sort of gentleman he was. He had been
+told, it seems, that we had met there by accident, that I came in the Chester
+coach, and my gentleman in his own coach to meet me; that we were to have met
+last night at Stony-Stratford, but that he could not reach so far. &ldquo;Well,
+sir,&rdquo; says the parson, &ldquo;every ill turn has some good in it. The
+disappointment, sir,&rdquo; says he to my gentleman, &ldquo;was yours, and the
+good turn is mine, for if you had met at Stony-Stratford I had not had the
+honour to marry you. Landlord, have you a Common Prayer Book?&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+I started as if I had been frightened. &ldquo;Lord, sir,&rdquo; says I,
+&ldquo;what do you mean? What, to marry in an inn, and at night too?&rdquo;
+&ldquo;Madam,&rdquo; says the minister, &ldquo;if you will have it be in the
+church, you shall; but I assure you your marriage will be as firm here as in
+the church; we are not tied by the canons to marry nowhere but in the church;
+and if you will have it in the church, it will be a public as a county fair;
+and as for the time of day, it does not at all weigh in this case; our princes
+are married in their chambers, and at eight or ten o&rsquo;clock at
+night.&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+I was a great while before I could be persuaded, and pretended not to be
+willing at all to be married but in the church. But it was all grimace; so I
+seemed at last to be prevailed on, and my landlord and his wife and daughter
+were called up. My landlord was father and clerk and all together, and we were
+married, and very merry we were; though I confess the self-reproaches which I
+had upon me before lay close to me, and extorted every now and then a deep sigh
+from me, which my bridegroom took notice of, and endeavoured to encourage me,
+thinking, poor man, that I had some little hesitations at the step I had taken
+so hastily.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+We enjoyed ourselves that evening completely, and yet all was kept so private
+in the inn that not a servant in the house knew of it, for my landlady and her
+daughter waited on me, and would not let any of the maids come upstairs, except
+while we were at supper. My landlady&rsquo;s daughter I called my bridesmaid;
+and sending for a shopkeeper the next morning, I gave the young woman a good
+suit of knots, as good as the town would afford, and finding it was a
+lace-making town, I gave her mother a piece of bone-lace for a head.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+One reason that my landlord was so close was, that he was unwilling the
+minister of the parish should hear of it; but for all that somebody heard of
+it, so at that we had the bells set a-ringing the next morning early, and the
+music, such as the town would afford, under our window; but my landlord
+brazened it out, that we were married before we came thither, only that, being
+his former guests, we would have our wedding-supper at his house.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+We could not find in our hearts to stir the next day; for, in short, having
+been disturbed by the bells in the morning, and having perhaps not slept
+overmuch before, we were so sleepy afterwards that we lay in bed till almost
+twelve o&rsquo;clock.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+I begged my landlady that we might not have any more music in the town, nor
+ringing of bells, and she managed it so well that we were very quiet; but an
+odd passage interrupted all my mirth for a good while. The great room of the
+house looked into the street, and my new spouse being belowstairs, I had walked
+to the end of the room; and it being a pleasant, warm day, I had opened the
+window, and was standing at it for some air, when I saw three gentlemen come by
+on horseback and go into an inn just against us.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+It was not to be concealed, nor was it so doubtful as to leave me any room to
+question it, but the second of the three was my Lancashire husband. I was
+frightened to death; I never was in such a consternation in my life; I though I
+should have sunk into the ground; my blood ran chill in my veins, and I
+trembled as if I had been in a cold fit of ague. I say, there was no room to
+question the truth of it; I knew his clothes, I knew his horse, and I knew his
+face.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+The first sensible reflect I made was, that my husband was not by to see my
+disorder, and that I was very glad of it. The gentlemen had not been long in
+the house but they came to the window of their room, as is usual; but my window
+was shut, you may be sure. However, I could not keep from peeping at them, and
+there I saw him again, heard him call out to one of the servants of the house
+for something he wanted, and received all the terrifying confirmations of its
+being the same person that were possible to be had.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+My next concern was to know, if possible, what was his business there; but that
+was impossible. Sometimes my imagination formed an idea of one frightful thing,
+sometimes of another; sometimes I thought he had discovered me, and was come to
+upbraid me with ingratitude and breach of honour; and every moment I fancied he
+was coming up the stairs to insult me; and innumerable fancies came into my
+head of what was never in his head, nor ever could be, unless the devil had
+revealed it to him.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+I remained in this fright nearly two hours, and scarce ever kept my eye from
+the window or door of the inn where they were. At last, hearing a great clatter
+in the passage of their inn, I ran to the window, and, to my great
+satisfaction, saw them all three go out again and travel on westward. Had they
+gone towards London, I should have been still in a fright, lest I should meet
+him on the road again, and that he should know me; but he went the contrary
+way, and so I was eased of that disorder.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+We resolved to be going the next day, but about six o&rsquo;clock at night we
+were alarmed with a great uproar in the street, and people riding as if they
+had been out of their wits; and what was it but a hue-and-cry after three
+highwaymen that had robbed two coaches and some other travellers near Dunstable
+Hill, and notice had, it seems, been given that they had been seen at Brickhill
+at such a house, meaning the house where those gentlemen had been.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+The house was immediately beset and searched, but there were witnesses enough
+that the gentlemen had been gone over three hours. The crowd having gathered
+about, we had the news presently; and I was heartily concerned now another way.
+I presently told the people of the house, that I durst to say those were not
+the persons, for that I knew one of the gentlemen to be a very honest person,
+and of a good estate in Lancashire.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+The constable who came with the hue-and-cry was immediately informed of this,
+and came over to me to be satisfied from my own mouth, and I assured him that I
+saw the three gentlemen as I was at the window; that I saw them afterwards at
+the windows of the room they dined in; that I saw them afterwards take horse,
+and I could assure him I knew one of them to be such a man, that he was a
+gentleman of a very good estate, and an undoubted character in Lancashire, from
+whence I was just now upon my journey.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+The assurance with which I delivered this gave the mob gentry a check, and gave
+the constable such satisfaction, that he immediately sounded a retreat, told
+his people these were not the men, but that he had an account they were very
+honest gentlemen; and so they went all back again. What the truth of the matter
+was I knew not, but certain it was that the coaches were robbed at Dunstable
+Hill, and &pound;560 in money taken; besides, some of the lace merchants that
+always travel that way had been visited too. As to the three gentlemen, that
+remains to be explained hereafter.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Well, this alarm stopped us another day, though my spouse was for travelling,
+and told me that it was always safest travelling after a robbery, for that the
+thieves were sure to be gone far enough off when they had alarmed the country;
+but I was afraid and uneasy, and indeed principally lest my old acquaintance
+should be upon the road still, and should chance to see me.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+I never lived four pleasanter days together in my life. I was a mere bride all
+this while, and my new spouse strove to make me entirely easy in everything. Oh
+could this state of life have continued, how had all my past troubles been
+forgot, and my future sorrows avoided! But I had a past life of a most wretched
+kind to account for, some of it in this world as well as in another.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+We came away the fifth day; and my landlord, because he saw me uneasy, mounted
+himself, his son, and three honest country fellows with good firearms, and,
+without telling us of it, followed the coach, and would see us safe into
+Dunstable. We could do no less than treat them very handsomely at Dunstable,
+which cost my spouse about ten or twelve shillings, and something he gave the
+men for their time too, but my landlord would take nothing for himself.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+This was the most happy contrivance for me that could have fallen out; for had
+I come to London unmarried, I must either have come to him for the first
+night&rsquo;s entertainment, or have discovered to him that I had not one
+acquaintance in the whole city of London that could receive a poor bride for
+the first night&rsquo;s lodging with her spouse. But now, being an old married
+woman, I made no scruple of going directly home with him, and there I took
+possession at once of a house well furnished, and a husband in very good
+circumstances, so that I had a prospect of a very happy life, if I knew how to
+manage it; and I had leisure to consider of the real value of the life I was
+likely to live. How different it was to be from the loose ungoverned part I had
+acted before, and how much happier a life of virtue and sobriety is, than that
+which we call a life of pleasure.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Oh had this particular scene of life lasted, or had I learned from that time I
+enjoyed it, to have tasted the true sweetness of it, and had I not fallen into
+that poverty which is the sure bane of virtue, how happy had I been, not only
+here, but perhaps for ever! for while I lived thus, I was really a penitent for
+all my life past. I looked back on it with abhorrence, and might truly be said
+to hate myself for it. I often reflected how my lover at the Bath, struck at
+the hand of God, repented and abandoned me, and refused to see me any more,
+though he loved me to an extreme; but I, prompted by that worst of devils,
+poverty, returned to the vile practice, and made the advantage of what they
+call a handsome face to be the relief to my necessities, and beauty be a pimp
+to vice.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Now I seemed landed in a safe harbour, after the stormy voyage of life past was
+at an end, and I began to be thankful for my deliverance. I sat many an hour by
+myself, and wept over the remembrance of past follies, and the dreadful
+extravagances of a wicked life, and sometimes I flattered myself that I had
+sincerely repented.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+But there are temptations which it is not in the power of human nature to
+resist, and few know what would be their case if driven to the same exigencies.
+As covetousness is the root of all evil, so poverty is, I believe, the worst of
+all snares. But I waive that discourse till I come to an experiment.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+I lived with this husband with the utmost tranquillity; he was a quiet,
+sensible, sober man; virtuous, modest, sincere, and in his business diligent
+and just. His business was in a narrow compass, and his income sufficient to a
+plentiful way of living in the ordinary way. I do not say to keep an equipage,
+and make a figure, as the world calls it, nor did I expect it, or desire it;
+for as I abhorred the levity and extravagance of my former life, so I chose now
+to live retired, frugal, and within ourselves. I kept no company, made no
+visits; minded my family, and obliged my husband; and this kind of life became
+a pleasure to me.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+We lived in an uninterrupted course of ease and content for five years, when a
+sudden blow from an almost invisible hand blasted all my happiness, and turned
+me out into the world in a condition the reverse of all that had been before
+it.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+My husband having trusted one of his fellow-clerks with a sum of money, too
+much for our fortunes to bear the loss of, the clerk failed, and the loss fell
+very heavy on my husband, yet it was not so great neither but that, if he had
+had spirit and courage to have looked his misfortunes in the face, his credit
+was so good that, as I told him, he would easily recover it; for to sink under
+trouble is to double the weight, and he that will die in it, shall die in it.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+It was in vain to speak comfortably to him; the wound had sunk too deep; it was
+a stab that touched the vitals; he grew melancholy and disconsolate, and from
+thence lethargic, and died. I foresaw the blow, and was extremely oppressed in
+my mind, for I saw evidently that if he died I was undone.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+I had had two children by him and no more, for, to tell the truth, it began to
+be time for me to leave bearing children, for I was now eight-and-forty, and I
+suppose if he had lived I should have had no more.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+I was now left in a dismal and disconsolate case indeed, and in several things
+worse than ever. First, it was past the flourishing time with me when I might
+expect to be courted for a mistress; that agreeable part had declined some
+time, and the ruins only appeared of what had been; and that which was worse
+than all this, that I was the most dejected, disconsolate creature alive. I
+that had encouraged my husband, and endeavoured to support his spirits under
+his trouble, could not support my own; I wanted that spirit in trouble which I
+told him was so necessary to him for bearing the burthen.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+But my case was indeed deplorable, for I was left perfectly friendless and
+helpless, and the loss my husband had sustained had reduced his circumstances
+so low, that though indeed I was not in debt, yet I could easily foresee that
+what was left would not support me long; that while it wasted daily for
+subsistence, I had not way to increase it one shilling, so that it would be
+soon all spent, and then I saw nothing before me but the utmost distress; and
+this represented itself so lively to my thoughts, that it seemed as if it was
+come, before it was really very near; also my very apprehensions doubled the
+misery, for I fancied every sixpence that I paid for a loaf of bread was the
+last that I had in the world, and that to-morrow I was to fast, and be starved
+to death.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+In this distress I had no assistant, no friend to comfort or advise me; I sat
+and cried and tormented myself night and day, wringing my hands, and sometimes
+raving like a distracted woman; and indeed I have often wondered it had not
+affected my reason, for I had the vapours to such a degree, that my
+understanding was sometimes quite lost in fancies and imaginations.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+I lived two years in this dismal condition, wasting that little I had, weeping
+continually over my dismal circumstances, and, as it were, only bleeding to
+death, without the least hope or prospect of help from God or man; and now I
+had cried too long, and so often, that tears were, as I might say, exhausted,
+and I began to be desperate, for I grew poor apace.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+For a little relief I had put off my house and took lodgings; and as I was
+reducing my living, so I sold off most of my goods, which put a little money in
+my pocket, and I lived near a year upon that, spending very sparingly, and
+eking things out to the utmost; but still when I looked before me, my very
+heart would sink within me at the inevitable approach of misery and want. Oh
+let none read this part without seriously reflecting on the circumstances of a
+desolate state, and how they would grapple with mere want of friends and want
+of bread; it will certainly make them think not of sparing what they have only,
+but of looking up to heaven for support, and of the wise man&rsquo;s prayer,
+&ldquo;Give me not poverty, lest I steal.&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Let them remember that a time of distress is a time of dreadful temptation, and
+all the strength to resist is taken away; poverty presses, the soul is made
+desperate by distress, and what can be done? It was one evening, when being
+brought, as I may say, to the last gasp, I think I may truly say I was
+distracted and raving, when prompted by I know not what spirit, and, as it
+were, doing I did not know what or why, I dressed me (for I had still pretty
+good clothes) and went out. I am very sure I had no manner of design in my head
+when I went out; I neither knew nor considered where to go, or on what
+business; but as the devil carried me out and laid his bait for me, so he
+brought me, to be sure, to the place, for I knew not whither I was going or
+what I did.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Wandering thus about, I knew not whither, I passed by an apothecary&rsquo;s
+shop in Leadenhall Street, when I saw lie on a stool just before the counter a
+little bundle wrapped in a white cloth; beyond it stood a maid-servant with her
+back to it, looking towards the top of the shop, where the apothecary&rsquo;s
+apprentice, as I suppose, was standing upon the counter, with his back also to
+the door, and a candle in his hand, looking and reaching up to the upper shelf
+for something he wanted, so that both were engaged mighty earnestly, and nobody
+else in the shop.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+This was the bait; and the devil, who I said laid the snare, as readily
+prompted me as if he had spoke, for I remember, and shall never forget it,
+&rsquo;twas like a voice spoken to me over my shoulder, &ldquo;Take the bundle;
+be quick; do it this moment.&rdquo; It was no sooner said but I stepped into
+the shop, and with my back to the wench, as if I had stood up for a cart that
+was going by, I put my hand behind me and took the bundle, and went off with
+it, the maid or the fellow not perceiving me, or any one else.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+It is impossible to express the horror of my soul all the while I did it. When
+I went away I had no heart to run, or scarce to mend my pace. I crossed the
+street indeed, and went down the first turning I came to, and I think it was a
+street that went through into Fenchurch Street. From thence I crossed and
+turned through so many ways and turnings, that I could never tell which way it
+was, not where I went; for I felt not the ground I stepped on, and the farther
+I was out of danger, the faster I went, till, tired and out of breath, I was
+forced to sit down on a little bench at a door, and then I began to recover,
+and found I was got into Thames Street, near Billingsgate. I rested me a little
+and went on; my blood was all in a fire; my heart beat as if I was in a sudden
+fright. In short, I was under such a surprise that I still knew not wither I
+was going, or what to do.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+After I had tired myself thus with walking a long way about, and so eagerly, I
+began to consider and make home to my lodging, where I came about nine
+o&rsquo;clock at night.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+When the bundle was made up for, or on what occasion laid where I found it, I
+knew not, but when I came to open it I found there was a suit of childbed-linen
+in it, very good and almost new, the lace very fine; there was a silver
+porringer of a pint, a small silver mug and six spoons, with some other linen,
+a good smock, and three silk handkerchiefs, and in the mug, wrapped up in a
+paper, 18s. 6d. in money.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+All the while I was opening these things I was under such dreadful impressions
+of fear, and I such terror of mind, though I was perfectly safe, that I cannot
+express the manner of it. I sat me down, and cried most vehemently.
+&ldquo;Lord,&rdquo; said I, &ldquo;what am I now? a thief! Why, I shall be
+taken next time, and be carried to Newgate and be tried for my life!&rdquo; And
+with that I cried again a long time, and I am sure, as poor as I was, if I had
+durst for fear, I would certainly have carried the things back again; but that
+went off after a while. Well, I went to bed for that night, but slept little;
+the horror of the fact was upon my mind, and I knew not what I said or did all
+night, and all the next day. Then I was impatient to hear some news of the
+loss; and would fain know how it was, whether they were a poor body&rsquo;s
+goods, or a rich. &ldquo;Perhaps,&rdquo; said I, &ldquo;it may be some poor
+widow like me, that had packed up these goods to go and sell them for a little
+bread for herself and a poor child, and are now starving and breaking their
+hearts for want of that little they would have fetched.&rdquo; And this thought
+tormented me worse than all the rest, for three or four days&rsquo; time.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+But my own distresses silenced all these reflections, and the prospect of my
+own starving, which grew every day more frightful to me, hardened my heart by
+degrees. It was then particularly heavy upon my mind, that I had been reformed,
+and had, as I hoped, repented of all my past wickedness; that I had lived a
+sober, grave, retired life for several years, but now I should be driven by the
+dreadful necessity of my circumstances to the gates of destruction, soul and
+body; and two or three times I fell upon my knees, praying to God, as well as I
+could, for deliverance; but I cannot but say, my prayers had no hope in them. I
+knew not what to do; it was all fear without, and dark within; and I reflected
+on my past life as not sincerely repented of, that Heaven was now beginning to
+punish me on this side the grave, and would make me as miserable as I had been
+wicked.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Had I gone on here I had perhaps been a true penitent; but I had an evil
+counsellor within, and he was continually prompting me to relieve myself by the
+worst means; so one evening he tempted me again, by the same wicked impulse
+that had said &ldquo;Take that bundle,&rdquo; to go out again and seek for what
+might happen.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+I went out now by daylight, and wandered about I knew not whither, and in
+search of I knew not what, when the devil put a snare in my way of a dreadful
+nature indeed, and such a one as I have never had before or since. Going
+through Aldersgate Street, there was a pretty little child who had been at a
+dancing-school, and was going home, all alone; and my prompter, like a true
+devil, set me upon this innocent creature. I talked to it, and it prattled to
+me again, and I took it by the hand and led it along till I came to a paved
+alley that goes into Bartholomew Close, and I led it in there. The child said
+that was not its way home. I said, &ldquo;Yes, my dear, it is; I&rsquo;ll show
+you the way home.&rdquo; The child had a little necklace on of gold beads, and
+I had my eye upon that, and in the dark of the alley I stooped, pretending to
+mend the child&rsquo;s clog that was loose, and took off her necklace, and the
+child never felt it, and so led the child on again. Here, I say, the devil put
+me upon killing the child in the dark alley, that it might not cry, but the
+very thought frighted me so that I was ready to drop down; but I turned the
+child about and bade it go back again, for that was not its way home. The child
+said, so she would, and I went through into Bartholomew Close, and then turned
+round to another passage that goes into St. John Street; then, crossing into
+Smithfield, went down Chick Lane and into Field Lane to Holborn Bridge, when,
+mixing with the crowd of people usually passing there, it was not possible to
+have been found out; and thus I enterprised my second sally into the world.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+The thoughts of this booty put out all the thoughts of the first, and the
+reflections I had made wore quickly off; poverty, as I have said, hardened my
+heart, and my own necessities made me regardless of anything. The last affair
+left no great concern upon me, for as I did the poor child no harm, I only said
+to myself, I had given the parents a just reproof for their negligence in
+leaving the poor little lamb to come home by itself, and it would teach them to
+take more care of it another time.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+This string of beads was worth about twelve or fourteen pounds. I suppose it
+might have been formerly the mother&rsquo;s, for it was too big for the
+child&rsquo;s wear, but that perhaps the vanity of the mother, to have her
+child look fine at the dancing-school, had made her let the child wear it; and
+no doubt the child had a maid sent to take care of it, but she, careless jade,
+was taken up perhaps with some fellow that had met her by the way, and so the
+poor baby wandered till it fell into my hands.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+However, I did the child no harm; I did not so much as fright it, for I had a
+great many tender thoughts about me yet, and did nothing but what, as I may
+say, mere necessity drove me to.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+I had a great many adventures after this, but I was young in the business, and
+did not know how to manage, otherwise than as the devil put things into my
+head; and indeed he was seldom backward to me. One adventure I had which was
+very lucky to me. I was going through Lombard Street in the dusk of the
+evening, just by the end of Three King court, when on a sudden comes a fellow
+running by me as swift as lightning, and throws a bundle that was in his hand,
+just behind me, as I stood up against the corner of the house at the turning
+into the alley. Just as he threw it in he said, &ldquo;God bless you, mistress,
+let it lie there a little,&rdquo; and away he runs swift as the wind. After him
+comes two more, and immediately a young fellow without his hat, crying
+&ldquo;Stop thief!&rdquo; and after him two or three more. They pursued the two
+last fellows so close, that they were forced to drop what they had got, and one
+of them was taken into the bargain, and other got off free.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+I stood stock-still all this while, till they came back, dragging the poor
+fellow they had taken, and lugging the things they had found, extremely well
+satisfied that they had recovered the booty and taken the thief; and thus they
+passed by me, for I looked only like one who stood up while the crowd was gone.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Once or twice I asked what was the matter, but the people neglected answering
+me, and I was not very importunate; but after the crowd was wholly past, I took
+my opportunity to turn about and take up what was behind me and walk away.
+This, indeed, I did with less disturbance than I had done formerly, for these
+things I did not steal, but they were stolen to my hand. I got safe to my
+lodgings with this cargo, which was a piece of fine black lustring silk, and a
+piece of velvet; the latter was but part of a piece of about eleven yards; the
+former was a whole piece of near fifty yards. It seems it was a mercer&rsquo;s
+shop that they had rifled. I say rifled, because the goods were so considerable
+that they had lost; for the goods that they recovered were pretty many, and I
+believe came to about six or seven several pieces of silk. How they came to get
+so many I could not tell; but as I had only robbed the thief, I made no scruple
+at taking these goods, and being very glad of them too.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+I had pretty good luck thus far, and I made several adventures more, though
+with but small purchase, yet with good success, but I went in daily dread that
+some mischief would befall me, and that I should certainly come to be hanged at
+last. The impression this made on me was too strong to be slighted, and it kept
+me from making attempts that, for ought I knew, might have been very safely
+performed; but one thing I cannot omit, which was a bait to me many a day. I
+walked frequently out into the villages round the town, to see if nothing would
+fall in my way there; and going by a house near Stepney, I saw on the
+window-board two rings, one a small diamond ring, and the other a gold ring, to
+be sure laid there by some thoughtless lady, that had more money then forecast,
+perhaps only till she washed her hands.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+I walked several times by the window to observe if I could see whether there
+was anybody in the room or no, and I could see nobody, but still I was not
+sure. It came presently into my thoughts to rap at the glass, as if I wanted to
+speak with somebody, and if anybody was there they would be sure to come to the
+window, and then I would tell them to remove those rings, for that I had seen
+two suspicious fellows take notice of them. This was a ready thought. I rapped
+once or twice and nobody came, when, seeing the coast clear, I thrust hard
+against the square of the glass, and broke it with very little noise, and took
+out the two rings, and walked away with them very safe. The diamond ring was
+worth about &pound;3, and the other about 9s.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+I was now at a loss for a market for my goods, and especially for my two pieces
+of silk. I was very loth to dispose of them for a trifle, as the poor unhappy
+thieves in general do, who, after they have ventured their lives for perhaps a
+thing of value, are fain to sell it for a song when they have done; but I was
+resolved I would not do thus, whatever shift I made, unless I was driven to the
+last extremity. However, I did not well know what course to take. At last I
+resolved to go to my old governess, and acquaint myself with her again. I had
+punctually supplied the &pound;5 a year to her for my little boy as long as I
+was able, but at last was obliged to put a stop to it. However, I had written a
+letter to her, wherein I had told her that my circumstances were reduced very
+low; that I had lost my husband, and that I was not able to do it any longer,
+and so begged that the poor child might not suffer too much for its
+mother&rsquo;s misfortunes.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+I now made her a visit, and I found that she drove something of the old trade
+still, but that she was not in such flourishing circumstances as before; for
+she had been sued by a certain gentleman who had had his daughter stolen from
+him, and who, it seems, she had helped to convey away; and it was very narrowly
+that she escaped the gallows. The expense also had ravaged her, and she was
+become very poor; her house was but meanly furnished, and she was not in such
+repute for her practice as before; however, she stood upon her legs, as they
+say, and as she was a stirring, bustling woman, and had some stock left, she
+was turned pawnbroker, and lived pretty well.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+She received me very civilly, and with her usual obliging manner told me she
+would not have the less respect for me for my being reduced; that she had taken
+care my boy was very well looked after, though I could not pay for him, and
+that the woman that had him was easy, so that I needed not to trouble myself
+about him till I might be better able to do it effectually.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+I told her that I had not much money left, but that I had some things that were
+money&rsquo;s worth, if she could tell me how I might turn them into money. She
+asked me what it was I had. I pulled out the string of gold beads, and told her
+it was one of my husband&rsquo;s presents to me; then I showed her the two
+parcels of silk, which I told her I had from Ireland, and brought up to town
+with me; and the little diamond ring. As to the small parcel of plate and
+spoons, I had found means to dispose of them myself before; and as for the
+childbed-linen I had, she offered me to take it herself, believing it to have
+been my own. She told me that she was turned pawnbroker, and that she would
+sell those things for me as pawn to her; and so she sent presently for proper
+agents that bought them, being in her hands, without any scruple, and gave good
+prices too.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+I now began to think this necessary woman might help me a little in my low
+condition to some business, for I would gladly have turned my hand to any
+honest employment if I could have got it. But here she was deficient; honest
+business did not come within her reach. If I had been younger, perhaps she
+might have helped me to a spark, but my thoughts were off that kind of
+livelihood, as being quite out of the way after fifty, which was my case, and
+so I told her.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+She invited me at last to come, and be at her house till I could find something
+to do, and it should cost me very little, and this I gladly accepted of. And
+now living a little easier, I entered into some measures to have my little son
+by my last husband taken off; and this she made easy too, reserving a payment
+only of &pound;5 a year, if I could pay it. This was such a help to me, that
+for a good while I left off the wicked trade that I had so newly taken up; and
+gladly I would have got my bread by the help of my needle if I could have got
+work, but that was very hard to do for one that had no manner of acquaintance
+in the world.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+However, at last I got some quilting work for ladies&rsquo; beds, petticoats,
+and the like; and this I liked very well, and worked very hard, and with this I
+began to live; but the diligent devil, who resolved I should continue in his
+service, continually prompted me to go out and take a walk, that is to say, to
+see if anything would offer in the old way.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+One evening I blindly obeyed his summons, and fetched a long circuit through
+the streets, but met with no purchase, and came home very weary and empty; but
+not content with that, I went out the next evening too, when going by an
+alehouse I saw the door of a little room open, next the very street, and on the
+table a silver tankard, things much in use in public-houses at that time. It
+seems some company had been drinking there, and the careless boys had forgot to
+take it away.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+I went into the box frankly, and setting the silver tankard on the corner of
+the bench, I sat down before it, and knocked with my foot; a boy came
+presently, and I bade him fetch me a pint of warm ale, for it was cold weather;
+the boy ran, and I heard him go down the cellar to draw the ale. While the boy
+was gone, another boy came into the room, and cried, &ldquo;D&rsquo; ye
+call?&rdquo; I spoke with a melancholy air, and said, &ldquo;No, child; the boy
+is gone for a pint of ale for me.&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+While I sat here, I heard the woman in the bar say, &ldquo;Are they all gone in
+the five?&rdquo; which was the box I sat in, and the boy said,
+&ldquo;Yes.&rdquo; &ldquo;Who fetched the tankard away?&rdquo; says the woman.
+&ldquo;I did,&rdquo; says another boy; &ldquo;that&rsquo;s it,&rdquo; pointing,
+it seems, to another tankard, which he had fetched from another box by mistake;
+or else it must be, that the rogue forgot that he had not brought it in, which
+certainly he had not.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+I heard all this, much to my satisfaction, for I found plainly that the tankard
+was not missed, and yet they concluded it was fetched away; so I drank my ale,
+called to pay, and as I went away I said, &ldquo;Take care of your plate,
+child,&rdquo; meaning a silver pint mug, which he brought me drink in. The boy
+said, &ldquo;Yes, madam, very welcome,&rdquo; and away I came.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+I came home to my governess, and now I thought it was a time to try her, that
+if I might be put to the necessity of being exposed, she might offer me some
+assistance. When I had been at home some time, and had an opportunity of
+talking to her, I told her I had a secret of the greatest consequence in the
+world to commit to her, if she had respect enough for me to keep it a secret.
+She told me she had kept one of my secrets faithfully; why should I doubt her
+keeping another? I told her the strangest thing in the world had befallen me,
+and that it had made a thief of me, even without any design, and so told her
+the whole story of the tankard. &ldquo;And have you brought it away with you,
+my dear?&rdquo; says she. &ldquo;To be sure I have,&rdquo; says I, and showed
+it her. &ldquo;But what shall I do now,&rdquo; says I; &ldquo;must not carry it
+again?&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;Carry it again!&rdquo; says she. &ldquo;Ay, if you are minded to be sent
+to Newgate for stealing it.&rdquo; &ldquo;Why,&rdquo; says I, &ldquo;they
+can&rsquo;t be so base to stop me, when I carry it to them again?&rdquo;
+&ldquo;You don&rsquo;t know those sort of people, child,&rdquo; says she;
+&ldquo;they&rsquo;ll not only carry you to Newgate, but hang you too, without
+any regard to the honesty of returning it; or bring in an account of all the
+other tankards they have lost, for you to pay for.&rdquo; &ldquo;What must I
+do, then?&rdquo; says I. &ldquo;Nay,&rdquo; says she, &ldquo;as you have played
+the cunning part and stole it, you must e&rsquo;en keep it; there&rsquo;s no
+going back now. Besides, child,&rdquo; says she, &ldquo;don&rsquo;t you want it
+more than they do? I wish you could light of such a bargain once a week.&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+This gave me a new notion of my governess, and that since she was turned
+pawnbroker, she had a sort of people about her that were none of the honest
+ones that I had met with there before.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+I had not been long there but I discovered it more plainly than before, for
+every now and then I saw hilts of swords, spoons, forks, tankards, and all such
+kind of ware brought in, not to be pawned, but to be sold downright; and she
+bought everything that came without asking any questions, but had very good
+bargains, as I found by her discourse.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+I found also that in following this trade she always melted down the plate she
+bought, that it might not be challenged; and she came to me and told me one
+morning that she was going to melt, and if I would, she would put my tankard
+in, that it might not be seen by anybody. I told her, with all my heart; so she
+weighed it, and allowed me the full value in silver again; but I found she did
+not do the same to the rest of her customers.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Some time after this, as I was at work, and very melancholy, she begins to ask
+me what the matter was, as she was used to do. I told her my heart was heavy; I
+had little work, and nothing to live on, and knew not what course to take. She
+laughed, and told me I must go out again and try my fortune; it might be that I
+might meet with another piece of plate. &ldquo;O mother!&rdquo; says I,
+&ldquo;that is a trade I have no skill in, and if I should be taken I am undone
+at once.&rdquo; Says she, &ldquo;I could help you to a schoolmistress that
+shall make you as dexterous as herself.&rdquo; I trembled at that proposal, for
+hitherto I had had no confederates, nor any acquaintance among that tribe. But
+she conquered all my modesty, and all my fears; and in a little time, by the
+help of this confederate, I grew as impudent a thief, and as dexterous as ever
+Moll Cutpurse was, though, if fame does not belie her, not half so handsome.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+The comrade she helped me to dealt in three sorts of craft, viz. shoplifting,
+stealing of shop-books and pocket-books, and taking off gold watches from the
+ladies&rsquo; sides; and this last she did so dexterously that no woman ever
+arrived to the performance of that art so as to do it like her. I liked the
+first and the last of these things very well, and I attended her some time in
+the practice, just as a deputy attends a midwife, without any pay.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+At length she put me to practice. She had shown me her art, and I had several
+times unhooked a watch from her own side with great dexterity. At last she
+showed me a prize, and this was a young lady big with child, who had a charming
+watch. The thing was to be done as she came out of church. She goes on one side
+of the lady, and pretends, just as she came to the steps, to fall, and fell
+against the lady with so much violence as put her into a great fright, and both
+cried out terribly. In the very moment that she jostled the lady, I had hold of
+the watch, and holding it the right way, the start she gave drew the hook out,
+and she never felt it. I made off immediately, and left my schoolmistress to
+come out of her pretended fright gradually, and the lady too; and presently the
+watch was missed. &ldquo;Ay,&rdquo; says my comrade, &ldquo;then it was those
+rogues that thrust me down, I warrant ye; I wonder the gentlewoman did not miss
+her watch before, then we might have taken them.&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+She humoured the thing so well that nobody suspected her, and I was got home a
+full hour before her. This was my first adventure in company. The watch was
+indeed a very fine one, and had a great many trinkets about it, and my
+governess allowed us &pound;20 for it, of which I had half. And thus I was
+entered a complete thief, hardened to the pitch above all the reflections of
+conscience or modesty, and to a degree which I must acknowledge I never thought
+possible in me.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Thus the devil, who began, by the help of an irresistible poverty, to push me
+into this wickedness, brought me on to a height beyond the common rate, even
+when my necessities were not so great, or the prospect of my misery so
+terrifying; for I had now got into a little vein of work, and as I was not at a
+loss to handle my needle, it was very probable, as acquaintance came in, I
+might have got my bread honestly enough.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+I must say, that if such a prospect of work had presented itself at first, when
+I began to feel the approach of my miserable circumstances&mdash;I say, had
+such a prospect of getting my bread by working presented itself then, I had
+never fallen into this wicked trade, or into such a wicked gang as I was now
+embarked with; but practice had hardened me, and I grew audacious to the last
+degree; and the more so because I had carried it on so long, and had never been
+taken; for, in a word, my new partner in wickedness and I went on together so
+long, without being ever detected, that we not only grew bold, but we grew
+rich, and we had at one time one-and-twenty gold watches in our hands.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+I remember that one day being a little more serious than ordinary, and finding
+I had so good a stock beforehand as I had, for I had near &pound;200 in money
+for my share, it came strongly into my mind, no doubt from some kind spirit, if
+such there be, that at first poverty excited me, and my distresses drove me to
+these dreadful shifts; so seeing those distresses were now relieved, and I
+could also get something towards a maintenance by working, and had so good a
+bank to support me, why should I now not leave off, as they say, while I was
+well? that I could not expect to go always free; and if I was once surprised,
+and miscarried, I was undone.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+This was doubtless the happy minute, when, if I had hearkened to the blessed
+hint, from whatsoever had it came, I had still a cast for an easy life. But my
+fate was otherwise determined; the busy devil that so industriously drew me in
+had too fast hold of me to let me go back; but as poverty brought me into the
+mire, so avarice kept me in, till there was no going back. As to the arguments
+which my reason dictated for persuading me to lay down, avarice stepped in and
+said, &ldquo;Go on, go on; you have had very good luck; go on till you have
+gotten four or five hundred pounds, and then you shall leave off, and then you
+may live easy without working at all.&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Thus I, that was once in the devil&rsquo;s clutches, was held fast there as
+with a charm, and had no power to go without the circle, till I was engulfed in
+labyrinths of trouble too great to get out at all.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+However, these thoughts left some impression upon me, and made me act with some
+more caution than before, and more than my directors used for themselves. My
+comrade, as I called her, but rather she should have been called my teacher,
+with another of her scholars, was the first in the misfortune; for, happening
+to be upon the hunt for purchase, they made an attempt upon a linen-draper in
+Cheapside, but were snapped by a hawk&rsquo;s-eyed journeyman, and seized with
+two pieces of cambric, which were taken also upon them.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+This was enough to lodge them both in Newgate, where they had the misfortune to
+have some of their former sins brought to remembrance. Two other indictments
+being brought against them, and the facts being proved upon them, they were
+both condemned to die. They both pleaded their bellies, and were both voted
+quick with child; though my tutoress was no more with child than I was.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+I went frequently to see them, and condole with them, expecting that it would
+be my turn next; but the place gave me so much horror, reflecting that it was
+the place of my unhappy birth, and of my mother&rsquo;s misfortunes, and that I
+could not bear it, so I was forced to leave off going to see them.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+And oh! could I have but taken warning by their disasters, I had been happy
+still, for I was yet free, and had nothing brought against me; but it could not
+be, my measure was not yet filled up.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+My comrade, having the brand of an old offender, was executed; the young
+offender was spared, having obtained a reprieve, but lay starving a long while
+in prison, till at last she got her name into what they call a circuit pardon,
+and so came off.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+This terrible example of my comrade frighted me heartily, and for a good while
+I made no excursions; but one night, in the neighbourhood of my
+governess&rsquo;s house, they cried &ldquo;Fire.&rdquo; My governess looked
+out, for we were all up, and cried immediately that such a gentlewoman&rsquo;s
+house was all of a light fire atop, and so indeed it was. Here she gives me a
+job. &ldquo;Now, child,&rdquo; says she, &ldquo;there is a rare opportunity,
+for the fire being so near that you may go to it before the street is blocked
+up with the crowd.&rdquo; She presently gave me my cue. &ldquo;Go,
+child,&rdquo; says she, &ldquo;to the house, and run in and tell the lady, or
+anybody you see, that you come to help them, and that you came from such a
+gentlewoman (that is, one of her acquaintance farther up the street).&rdquo;
+She gave me the like cue to the next house, naming another name that was also
+an acquaintance of the gentlewoman of the house.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Away I went, and, coming to the house, I found them all in confusion, you may
+be sure. I ran in, and finding one of the maids, &ldquo;Lord!
+sweetheart,&rdquo; says I, &ldquo;how came this dismal accident? Where is your
+mistress? Any how does she do? Is she safe? And where are the children? I come
+from Madam &mdash;&mdash; to help you.&rdquo; Away runs the maid. &ldquo;Madam,
+madam,&rdquo; says she, screaming as loud as she could yell, &ldquo;here is a
+gentlewoman come from Madam &mdash;&mdash; to help us.&rdquo; The poor woman,
+half out of her wits, with a bundle under her arm, an two little children,
+comes toward me. &ldquo;Lord! madam,&rdquo; says I, &ldquo;let me carry the
+poor children to Madam &mdash;&mdash;,&rdquo; she desires you to send them;
+she&rsquo;ll take care of the poor lambs;&rsquo; and immediately I takes one of
+them out of her hand, and she lifts the other up into my arms. &ldquo;Ay, do,
+for God&rsquo;s sake,&rdquo; says she, &ldquo;carry them to her. Oh! thank her
+for her kindness.&rdquo; &ldquo;Have you anything else to secure, madam?&rdquo;
+says I; &ldquo;she will take care of it.&rdquo; &ldquo;Oh dear! ay,&rdquo; says
+she, &ldquo;God bless her, and thank her. Take this bundle of plate and carry
+it to her too. Oh, she is a good woman. Oh Lord! we are utterly ruined, utterly
+undone!&rdquo; And away she runs from me out of her wits, and the maids after
+her; and away comes I with the two children and the bundle.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+I was no sooner got into the street but I saw another woman come to me.
+&ldquo;Oh!&rdquo; says she, &ldquo;mistress,&rdquo; in a piteous tone,
+&ldquo;you will let fall the child. Come, this is a sad time; let me help
+you&rdquo;; and immediately lays hold of my bundle to carry it for me.
+&ldquo;No,&rdquo; says I; &ldquo;if you will help me, take the child by the
+hand, and lead it for me but to the upper end of the street; I&rsquo;ll go with
+you and satisfy you for your pains.&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+She could not avoid going, after what I said; but the creature, in short, was
+one of the same business with me, and wanted nothing but the bundle; however,
+she went with me to the door, for she could not help it. When we were come
+there I whispered her, &ldquo;Go, child,&rdquo; said I, &ldquo;I understand
+your trade; you may meet with purchase enough.&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+She understood me and walked off. I thundered at the door with the children,
+and as the people were raised before by the noise of the fire, I was soon let
+in, and I said, &ldquo;Is madam awake? Pray tell her Mrs. &mdash;&mdash;
+desires the favour of her to take the two children in; poor lady, she will be
+undone, their house is all of a flame,&rdquo; They took the children in very
+civilly, pitied the family in distress, and away came I with my bundle. One of
+the maids asked me if I was not to leave the bundle too. I said, &ldquo;No,
+sweetheart, &rsquo;tis to go to another place; it does not belong to
+them.&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+I was a great way out of the hurry now, and so I went on, clear of
+anybody&rsquo;s inquiry, and brought the bundle of plate, which was very
+considerable, straight home, and gave it to my old governess. She told me she
+would not look into it, but bade me go out again to look for more.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+She gave me the like cue to the gentlewoman of the next house to that which was
+on fire, and I did my endeavour to go, but by this time the alarm of fire was
+so great, and so many engines playing, and the street so thronged with people,
+that I could not get near the house whatever I would do; so I came back again
+to my governess&rsquo;s, and taking the bundle up into my chamber, I began to
+examine it. It is with horror that I tell what a treasure I found there;
+&rsquo;tis enough to say, that besides most of the family plate, which was
+considerable, I found a gold chain, an old-fashioned thing, the locket of which
+was broken, so that I suppose it had not been used some years, but the gold was
+not the worse for that; also a little box of burying-rings, the lady&rsquo;s
+wedding-ring, and some broken bits of old lockets of gold, a gold watch, and a
+purse with about &pound;24 value in old pieces of gold coin, and several other
+things of value.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+This was the greatest and the worst prize that ever I was concerned in; for
+indeed, though, as I have said above, I was hardened now beyond the power of
+all reflection in other cases, yet it really touched me to the very soul when I
+looked into this treasure, to think of the poor disconsolate gentlewoman who
+had lost so much by the fire besides; and who would think, to be sure, that she
+had saved her plate and best things; how she would be surprised and afflicted
+when she should find that she had been deceived, and should find that the
+person that took her children and her goods, had not come, as was pretended,
+from the gentlewoman in the next street, but that the children had been put
+upon her without her own knowledge.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+I say, I confess the inhumanity of this action moved me very much, and made me
+relent exceedingly, and tears stood in my eyes upon that subject; but with all
+my sense of its being cruel and inhuman, I could never find in my heart to make
+any restitution. The reflection wore off, and I began quickly to forget the
+circumstances that attended the taking them.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Nor was this all; for though by this job I was become considerably richer than
+before, yet the resolution I had formerly taken, of leaving off this horrid
+trade when I had gotten a little more, did not return, but I must still get
+farther, and more; and the avarice joined so with the success, that I had no
+more thought of coming to a timely alteration of life, though without it I
+could expect no safety, no tranquillity in the possession of what I had so
+wickedly gained; but a little more, and a little more, was the case still.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+At length, yielding to the importunities of my crime, I cast off all remorse
+and repentance, and all the reflections on that head turned to no more than
+this, that I might perhaps come to have one booty more that might complete my
+desires; but though I certainly had that one booty, yet every hit looked
+towards another, and was so encouraging to me to go on with the trade, that I
+had no gust to the thought of laying it down.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+In this condition, hardened by success, and resolving to go on, I fell into the
+snare in which I was appointed to meet with my last reward for this kind of
+life. But even this was not yet, for I met with several successful adventures
+more in this way of being undone.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+I remained still with my governess, who was for a while really concerned for
+the misfortune of my comrade that had been hanged, and who, it seems, knew
+enough of my governess to have sent her the same way, and which made her very
+uneasy; indeed, she was in a very great fright.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+It is true that when she was gone, and had not opened mouth to tell what she
+knew, my governess was easy as to that point, and perhaps glad she was hanged,
+for it was in her power to have obtained a pardon at the expense of her
+friends; but on the other hand, the loss of her, and the sense of her kindness
+in not making her market of what she knew, moved my governess to mourn very
+sincerely for her. I comforted her as well as I could, and she in return
+hardened me to merit more completely the same fate.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+However, as I have said, it made me the more wary, and particularly I was very
+shy of shoplifting, especially among the mercers and drapers, who are a set of
+fellows that have their eyes very much about them. I made a venture or two
+among the lace folks and the milliners, and particularly at one shop where I
+got notice of two young women who were newly set up, and had not been bred to
+the trade. There I think I carried off a piece of bone-lace, worth six or seven
+pounds, and a paper of thread. But this was but once; it was a trick that would
+not serve again.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+It was always reckoned a safe job when we heard of a new shop, and especially
+when the people were such as were not bred to shops. Such may depend upon it
+that they will be visited once or twice at their beginning, and they must be
+very sharp indeed if they can prevent it.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+I made another adventure or two, but they were but trifles too, though
+sufficient to live on. After this nothing considerable offering for a good
+while, I began to think that I must give over the trade in earnest; but my
+governess, who was not willing to lose me, and expected great things of me,
+brought me one day into company with a young woman and a fellow that went for
+her husband, though as it appeared afterwards, she was not his wife, but they
+were partners, it seems, in the trade they carried on, and partners in
+something else. In short, they robbed together, lay together, were taken
+together, and at last were hanged together.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+I came into a kind of league with these two by the help of my governess, and
+they carried me out into three or four adventures, where I rather saw them
+commit some coarse and unhandy robberies, in which nothing but a great stock of
+impudence on their side, and gross negligence on the people&rsquo;s side who
+were robbed, could have made them successful. So I resolved from that time
+forward to be very cautious how I adventured upon anything with them; and
+indeed, when two or three unlucky projects were proposed by them, I declined
+the offer, and persuaded them against it. One time they particularly proposed
+robbing a watchmaker of three gold watches, which they had eyed in the daytime,
+and found the place where he laid them. One of them had so many keys of all
+kinds, that he made no question to open the place where the watchmaker had laid
+them; and so we made a kind of an appointment; but when I came to look narrowly
+into the thing, I found they proposed breaking open the house, and this, as a
+thing out of my way, I would not embark in, so they went without me. They did
+get into the house by main force, and broke up the locked place where the
+watches were, but found but one of the gold watches, and a silver one, which
+they took, and got out of the house again very clear. But the family, being
+alarmed, cried out &ldquo;Thieves,&rdquo; and the man was pursued and taken;
+the young woman had got off too, but unhappily was stopped at a distance, and
+the watches found upon her. And thus I had a second escape, for they were
+convicted, and both hanged, being old offenders, though but young people. As I
+said before that they robbed together and lay together, so now they hanged
+together, and there ended my new partnership.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+I began now to be very wary, having so narrowly escaped a scouring, and having
+such an example before me; but I had a new tempter, who prompted me every
+day&mdash;I mean my governess; and now a prize presented, which as it came by
+her management, so she expected a good share of the booty. There was a good
+quantity of Flanders lace lodged in a private house, where she had gotten
+intelligence of it, and Flanders lace being prohibited, it was a good booty to
+any custom-house officer that could come at it. I had a full account from my
+governess, as well of the quantity as of the very place where it was concealed,
+and I went to a custom-house officer, and told him I had such a discovery to
+make to him of such a quantity of lace, if he would assure me that I should
+have my due share of the reward. This was so just an offer, that nothing could
+be fairer; so he agreed, and taking a constable and me with him, we beset the
+house. As I told him I could go directly to the place, he left it to me; and
+the hole being very dark, I squeezed myself into it, with a candle in my hand,
+and so reached the pieces out to him, taking care as I gave him some so to
+secure as much about myself as I could conveniently dispose of. There was near
+&pound;300 worth of lace in the hole, and I secured about &pound;50 worth of it
+to myself. The people of the house were not owners of the lace, but a merchant
+who had entrusted them with it; so that they were not so surprised as I thought
+they would be.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+I left the officer overjoyed with his prize, and fully satisfied with what he
+had got, and appointed to meet him at a house of his own directing, where I
+came after I had disposed of the cargo I had about me, of which he had not the
+least suspicion. When I came to him he began to capitulate with me, believing I
+did not understand the right I had to a share in the prize, and would fain have
+put me off with &pound;20, but I let him know that I was not so ignorant as he
+supposed I was; and yet I was glad, too, that he offered to bring me to a
+certainty.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+I asked &pound;100, and he rose up to &pound;30; I fell to &pound;80, and he
+rose again to &pound;40; in a word, he offered &pound;50, and I consented, only
+demanding a piece of lace, which I thought came to about &pound;8 or &pound;9,
+as if it had been for my own wear, and he agreed to it. So I got &pound;50 in
+money paid me that same night, and made an end of the bargain; nor did he ever
+know who I was, or where to inquire for me, so that if it had been discovered
+that part of the goods were embezzled, he could have made no challenge upon me
+for it.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+I very punctually divided this spoil with my governess, and I passed with her
+from this time for a very dexterous manager in the nicest cases. I found that
+this last was the best and easiest sort of work that was in my way, and I made
+it my business to inquire out prohibited goods, and after buying some, usually
+betrayed them, but none of these discoveries amounted to anything considerable,
+not like that I related just now; but I was willing to act safe, and was still
+cautious of running the great risks which I found others did, and in which they
+miscarried every day.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+The next thing of moment was an attempt at a gentlewoman&rsquo;s good watch. It
+happened in a crowd, at a meeting-house, where I was in very great danger of
+being taken. I had full hold of her watch, but giving a great jostle, as if
+somebody had thrust me against her, and in the juncture giving the watch a fair
+pull, I found it would not come, so I let it go that moment, and cried out as
+if I had been killed, that somebody had trod upon my foot, and that there were
+certainly pickpockets there, for somebody or other had given a pull at my
+watch; for you are to observe that on these adventures we always went very well
+dressed, and I had very good clothes on, and a gold watch by my side, as like a
+lady as other fold.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+I had no sooner said so, but the other gentlewoman cried out &ldquo;A
+pickpocket&rdquo; too, for somebody, she said, had tried to pull her watch
+away.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+When I touched her watch I was close to her, but when I cried out I stopped as
+it were short, and the crowd bearing her forward a little, she made a noise
+too, but it was at some distance from me, so that she did not in the least
+suspect me; but when she cried out &ldquo;A pickpocket,&rdquo; somebody cried,
+&ldquo;Ay, and here has been another! this gentlewoman has been attempted
+too.&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+At that very instance, a little farther in the crowd, and very luckily too,
+they cried out &ldquo;A pickpocket,&rdquo; again, and really seized a young
+fellow in the very act. This, though unhappy for the wretch, was very
+opportunely for my case, though I had carried it off handsomely enough before;
+but now it was out of doubt, and all the loose part of the crowd ran that way,
+and the poor boy was delivered up to the rage of the street, which is a cruelty
+I need not describe, and which, however, they are always glad of, rather than
+to be sent to Newgate, where they lie often a long time, till they are almost
+perished, and sometimes they are hanged, and the best they can look for, if
+they are convicted, is to be transported.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+This was a narrow escape to me, and I was so frighted that I ventured no more
+at gold watches a great while. There was indeed a great many concurring
+circumstances in this adventure which assisted to my escape; but the chief was,
+that the woman whose watch I had pulled at was a fool; that is to say, she was
+ignorant of the nature of the attempt, which one would have thought she should
+not have been, seeing she was wise enough to fasten her watch so that it could
+not be slipped up. But she was in such a fright that she had no thought about
+her proper for the discovery; for she, when she felt the pull, screamed out,
+and pushed herself forward, and put all the people about her into disorder, but
+said not a word of her watch, or of a pickpocket, for at least two
+minutes&rsquo; time, which was time enough for me, and to spare. For as I had
+cried out behind her, as I have said, and bore myself back in the crowd as she
+bore forward, there were several people, at least seven or eight, the throng
+being still moving on, that were got between me and her in that time, and then
+I crying out &ldquo;A pickpocket,&rdquo; rather sooner than she, or at least as
+soon, she might as well be the person suspected as I, and the people were
+confused in their inquiry; whereas, had she with a presence of mind needful on
+such an occasion, as soon as she felt the pull, not screamed out as she did,
+but turned immediately round and seized the next body that was behind her, she
+had infallibly taken me.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+This is a direction not of the kindest sort to the fraternity, but &rsquo;tis
+certainly a key to the clue of a pickpocket&rsquo;s motions, and whoever can
+follow it will as certainly catch the thief as he will be sure to miss if he
+does not.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+I had another adventure, which puts this matter out of doubt, and which may be
+an instruction for posterity in the case of a pickpocket. My good old
+governess, to give a short touch at her history, though she had left off the
+trade, was, as I may say, born a pickpocket, and, as I understood afterwards,
+had run through all the several degrees of that art, and yet had never been
+taken but once, when she was so grossly detected, that she was convicted and
+ordered to be transported; but being a woman of a rare tongue, and withal
+having money in her pocket, she found means, the ship putting into Ireland for
+provisions, to get on shore there, where she lived and practised her old trade
+for some years; when falling into another sort of bad company, she turned
+midwife and procuress, and played a hundred pranks there, which she gave me a
+little history of in confidence between us as we grew more intimate; and it was
+to this wicked creature that I owed all the art and dexterity I arrived to, in
+which there were few that ever went beyond me, or that practised so long
+without any misfortune.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+It was after those adventures in Ireland, and when she was pretty well known in
+that country, that she left Dublin and came over to England, where, the time of
+her transportation being not expired, she left her former trade, for fear of
+falling into bad hands again, for then she was sure to have gone to wreck. Here
+she set up the same trade she had followed in Ireland, in which she soon, by
+her admirable management and good tongue, arrived to the height which I have
+already described, and indeed began to be rich, though her trade fell off again
+afterwards, as I have hinted before.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+I mentioned thus much of the history of this woman here, the better to account
+for the concern she had in the wicked life I was now leading, into all the
+particulars of which she led me, as it were, by the hand, and gave me such
+directions, and I so well followed them, that I grew the greatest artist of my
+time and worked myself out of every danger with such dexterity, that when
+several more of my comrades ran themselves into Newgate presently, and by that
+time they had been half a year at the trade, I had now practised upwards of
+five years, and the people at Newgate did not so much as know me; they had
+heard much of me indeed, and often expected me there, but I always got off,
+though many times in the extremest danger.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+One of the greatest dangers I was now in, was that I was too well known among
+the trade, and some of them, whose hatred was owing rather to envy than any
+injury I had done them, began to be angry that I should always escape when they
+were always catched and hurried to Newgate. These were they that gave me the
+name of Moll Flanders; for it was no more of affinity with my real name or with
+any of the name I had ever gone by, than black is of kin to white, except that
+once, as before, I called myself Mrs. Flanders; when I sheltered myself in the
+Mint; but that these rogues never knew, nor could I ever learn how they came to
+give me the name, or what the occasion of it was.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+I was soon informed that some of these who were gotten fast into Newgate had
+vowed to impeach me; and as I knew that two or three of them were but too able
+to do it, I was under a great concern about it, and kept within doors for a
+good while. But my governess&mdash;whom I always made partner in my success,
+and who now played a sure game with me, for that she had a share of the gain
+and no share in the hazard&mdash;I say, my governess was something impatient of
+my leading such a useless, unprofitable life, as she called it; and she laid a
+new contrivance for my going abroad, and this was to dress me up in men&rsquo;s
+clothes, and so put me into a new kind of practice.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+I was tall and personable, but a little too smooth-faced for a man; however, I
+seldom went abroad but in the night, it did well enough; but it was a long time
+before I could behave in my new clothes&mdash;I mean, as to my craft. It was
+impossible to be so nimble, so ready, so dexterous at these things in a dress
+so contrary to nature; and I did everything clumsily, so I had neither the
+success nor the easiness of escape that I had before, and I resolved to leave
+it off; but that resolution was confirmed soon after by the following accident.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+As my governess disguised me like a man, so she joined me with a man, a young
+fellow that was nimble enough at his business, and for about three weeks we did
+very well together. Our principal trade was watching shopkeepers&rsquo;
+counters, and slipping off any kind of goods we could see carelessly laid
+anywhere, and we made several good bargains, as we called them, at this work.
+And as we kept always together, so we grew very intimate, yet he never knew
+that I was not a man, nay, though I several times went home with him to his
+lodgings, according as our business directed, and four or five times lay with
+him all night. But our design lay another way, and it was absolutely necessary
+to me to conceal my sex from him, as appeared afterwards. The circumstances of
+our living, coming in late, and having such and such business to do as required
+that nobody should be trusted with the coming into our lodgings, were such as
+made it impossible to me to refuse lying with him, unless I would have owned my
+sex; and as it was, I effectually concealed myself. But his ill, and my good
+fortune, soon put an end to this life, which I must own I was sick of too, on
+several other accounts. We had made several prizes in this new way of business,
+but the last would be extraordinary. There was a shop in a certain street which
+had a warehouse behind it that looked into another street, the house making the
+corner of the turning.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Through the window of the warehouse we saw, lying on the counter or showboard,
+which was just before it, five pieces of silks, besides other stuffs, and
+though it was almost dark, yet the people, being busy in the fore-shop with
+customers, had not had time to shut up those windows, or else had forgot it.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+This the young fellow was so overjoyed with, that he could not restrain
+himself. It lay all within his reach he said, and he swore violently to me that
+he would have it, if he broke down the house for it. I dissuaded him a little,
+but saw there was no remedy; so he ran rashly upon it, slipped out a square of
+the sash window dexterously enough, and without noise, and got out four pieces
+of the silks, and came with them towards me, but was immediately pursued with a
+terrible clutter and noise. We were standing together indeed, but I had not
+taken any of the goods out of his hand, when I said to him hastily, &ldquo;You
+are undone, fly, for God&rsquo;s sake!&rdquo; He ran like lightning, and I too,
+but the pursuit was hotter after him because he had the goods, than after me.
+He dropped two of the pieces, which stopped them a little, but the crowd
+increased and pursued us both. They took him soon after with the other two
+pieces upon him, and then the rest followed me. I ran for it and got into my
+governess&rsquo;s house whither some quick-eyed people followed me so warmly as
+to fix me there. They did not immediately knock, at the door, by which I got
+time to throw off my disguise and dress me in my own clothes; besides, when
+they came there, my governess, who had her tale ready, kept her door shut, and
+called out to them and told them there was no man come in there. The people
+affirmed there did a man come in there, and swore they would break open the
+door.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+My governess, not at all surprised, spoke calmly to them, told them they should
+very freely come and search her house, if they should bring a constable, and
+let in none but such as the constable would admit, for it was unreasonable to
+let in a whole crowd. This they could not refuse, though they were a crowd. So
+a constable was fetched immediately, and she very freely opened the door; the
+constable kept the door, and the men he appointed searched the house, my
+governess going with them from room to room. When she came to my room she
+called to me, and said aloud, &ldquo;Cousin, pray open the door; here&rsquo;s
+some gentlemen that must come and look into your room.&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+I had a little girl with me, which was my governess&rsquo;s grandchild, as she
+called her; and I bade her open the door, and there sat I at work with a great
+litter of things about me, as if I had been at work all day, being myself quite
+undressed, with only night-clothes on my head, and a loose morning-gown wrapped
+about me. My governess made a kind of excuse for their disturbing me, telling
+me partly the occasion of it, and that she had no remedy but to open the doors
+to them, and let them satisfy themselves, for all she could say to them would
+not satisfy them. I sat still, and bid them search the room if they pleased,
+for if there was anybody in the house, I was sure they were not in my room; and
+as for the rest of the house, I had nothing to say to that, I did not
+understand what they looked for.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Everything looked so innocent and so honest about me, that they treated me
+civiller than I expected, but it was not till they had searched the room to a
+nicety, even under the bed, in the bed, and everywhere else where it was
+possible anything could be hid. When they had done this, and could find
+nothing, they asked my pardon for troubling me, and went down.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+When they had thus searched the house from bottom to top, and then top to
+bottom, and could find nothing, they appeased the mob pretty well; but they
+carried my governess before the justice. Two men swore that they saw the man
+whom they pursued go into her house. My governess rattled and made a great
+noise that her house should be insulted, and that she should be used thus for
+nothing; that if a man did come in, he might go out again presently for aught
+she knew, for she was ready to make oath that no man had been within her doors
+all that day as she knew of (and that was very true indeed); that it might be
+indeed that as she was abovestairs, any fellow in a fright might find the door
+open and run in for shelter when he was pursued, but that she knew nothing of
+it; and if it had been so, he certainly went out again, perhaps at the other
+door, for she had another door into an alley, and so had made his escape and
+cheated them all.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+This was indeed probable enough, and the justice satisfied himself with giving
+her an oath that she had not received or admitted any man into her house to
+conceal him, or protect or hide him from justice. This oath she might justly
+take, and did so, and so she was dismissed.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+It is easy to judge what a fright I was in upon this occasion, and it was
+impossible for my governess ever to bring me to dress in that disguise again;
+for, as I told her, I should certainly betray myself.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+My poor partner in this mischief was now in a bad case, for he was carried away
+before my Lord Mayor, and by his worship committed to Newgate, and the people
+that took him were so willing, as well as able, to prosecute him, that they
+offered themselves to enter into recognisances to appear at the sessions and
+pursue the charge against him.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+However, he got his indictment deferred, upon promise to discover his
+accomplices, and particularly the man that was concerned with him in his
+robbery; and he failed not to do his endeavour, for he gave in my name, whom he
+called Gabriel Spencer, which was the name I went by to him; and here appeared
+the wisdom of my concealing my name and sex from him, which, if he had ever
+known I had been undone.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+He did all he could to discover this Gabriel Spencer; he described me, he
+discovered the place where he said I lodged, and, in a word, all the
+particulars that he could of my dwelling; but having concealed the main
+circumstances of my sex from him, I had a vast advantage, and he never could
+hear of me. He brought two or three families into trouble by his endeavouring
+to find me out, but they knew nothing of me, any more than that I had a fellow
+with me that they had seen, but knew nothing of. And as for my governess,
+though she was the means of his coming to me, yet it was done at second-hand,
+and he knew nothing of her.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+This turned to his disadvantage; for having promised discoveries, but not being
+able to make it good, it was looked upon as trifling with the justice of the
+city, and he was the more fiercely pursued by the shopkeepers who took him.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+I was, however, terribly uneasy all this while, and that I might be quite out
+of the way, I went away from my governess&rsquo;s for a while; but not knowing
+wither to wander, I took a maid-servant with me, and took the stage-coach to
+Dunstable, to my old landlord and landlady, where I had lived so handsomely
+with my Lancashire husband. Here I told her a formal story, that I expected my
+husband every day from Ireland, and that I had sent a letter to him that I
+would meet him at Dunstable at her house, and that he would certainly land, if
+the wind was fair, in a few days, so that I was come to spend a few days with
+them till he should come, for he was either come post, or in the West Chester
+coach, I knew not which; but whichsoever it was, he would be sure to come to
+that house to meet me.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+My landlady was mighty glad to see me, and my landlord made such a stir with
+me, that if I had been a princess I could not have been better used, and here I
+might have been welcome a month or two if I had thought fit.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+But my business was of another nature. I was very uneasy (though so well
+disguised that it was scarce possible to detect me) lest this fellow should
+somehow or other find me out; and though he could not charge me with this
+robbery, having persuaded him not to venture, and having also done nothing in
+it myself but run away, yet he might have charged me with other things, and
+have bought his own life at the expense of mine.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+This filled me with horrible apprehensions. I had no recourse, no friend, no
+confidante but my old governess, and I knew no remedy but to put my life in her
+hands, and so I did, for I let her know where to send to me, and had several
+letters from her while I stayed here. Some of them almost scared me out my wits
+but at last she sent me the joyful news that he was hanged, which was the best
+news to me that I had heard a great while.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+I had stayed here five weeks, and lived very comfortably indeed (the secret
+anxiety of my mind excepted); but when I received this letter I looked
+pleasantly again, and told my landlady that I had received a letter from my
+spouse in Ireland, that I had the good news of his being very well, but had the
+bad news that his business would not permit him to come away so soon as he
+expected, and so I was like to go back again without him.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+My landlady complimented me upon the good news however, that I had heard he was
+well. &ldquo;For I have observed, madam,&rdquo; says she, &ldquo;you
+hadn&rsquo;t been so pleasant as you used to be; you have been over head and
+ears in care for him, I dare say,&rdquo; says the good woman; &ldquo;&rsquo;tis
+easy to be seen there&rsquo;s an alteration in you for the better,&rdquo; says
+she. &ldquo;Well, I am sorry the esquire can&rsquo;t come yet,&rdquo; says my
+landlord; &ldquo;I should have been heartily glad to have seen him. But I hope,
+when you have certain news of his coming, you&rsquo;ll take a step hither
+again, madam,&rdquo; says he; &ldquo;you shall be very welcome whenever you
+please to come.&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+With all these fine compliments we parted, and I came merry enough to London,
+and found my governess as well pleased as I was. And now she told me she would
+never recommend any partner to me again, for she always found, she said, that I
+had the best luck when I ventured by myself. And so indeed I had, for I was
+seldom in any danger when I was by myself, or if I was, I got out of it with
+more dexterity than when I was entangled with the dull measures of other
+people, who had perhaps less forecast, and were more rash and impatient than I;
+for though I had as much courage to venture as any of them, yet I used more
+caution before I undertook a thing, and had more presence of mind when I was to
+bring myself off.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+I have often wondered even at my own hardiness another way, that when all my
+companions were surprised and fell so suddenly into the hand of justice, and
+that I so narrowly escaped, yet I could not all this while enter into one
+serious resolution to leave off this trade, and especially considering that I
+was now very far from being poor; that the temptation of necessity, which is
+generally the introduction of all such wickedness, was now removed; for I had
+near &pound;500 by me in ready money, on which I might have lived very well, if
+I had thought fit to have retired; but I say, I had not so much as the least
+inclination to leave off; no, not so much as I had before when I had but
+&pound;200 beforehand, and when I had no such frightful examples before my eyes
+as these were. From hence &rsquo;tis evident to me, that when once we are
+hardened in crime, no fear can affect us, no example give us any warning.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+I had indeed one comrade whose fate went very near me for a good while, though
+I wore it off too in time. That case was indeed very unhappy. I had made a
+prize of a piece of very good damask in a mercer&rsquo;s shop, and went clear
+off myself, but had conveyed the piece to this companion of mine when we went
+out of the shop, and she went one way and I went another. We had not been long
+out of the shop but the mercer missed his piece of stuff, and sent his
+messengers, one one way and one another, and they presently seized her that had
+the piece, with the damask upon her. As for me, I had very luckily stepped into
+a house where there was a lace chamber, up one pair of stairs, and had the
+satisfaction, or the terror indeed, of looking out of the window upon the noise
+they made, and seeing the poor creature dragged away in triumph to the justice,
+who immediately committed her to Newgate.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+I was careful to attempt nothing in the lace chamber, but tumbled their goods
+pretty much to spend time; then bought a few yards of edging and paid for it,
+and came away very sad-hearted indeed for the poor woman, who was in
+tribulation for what I only had stolen.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Here again my old caution stood me in good stead; namely, that though I often
+robbed with these people, yet I never let them know who I was, or where I
+lodged, nor could they ever find out my lodging, though they often endeavoured
+to watch me to it. They all knew me by the name of Moll Flanders, though even
+some of them rather believed I was she than knew me to be so. My name was
+public among them indeed, but how to find me out they knew not, nor so much as
+how to guess at my quarters, whether they were at the east end of the town or
+the west; and this wariness was my safety upon all these occasions.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+I kept close a great while upon the occasion of this woman&rsquo;s disaster. I
+knew that if I should do anything that should miscarry, and should be carried
+to prison, she would be there and ready to witness against me, and perhaps save
+her life at my expense. I considered that I began to be very well known by name
+at the Old Bailey, though they did not know my face, and that if I should fall
+into their hands, I should be treated as an old offender; and for this reason I
+was resolved to see what this poor creature&rsquo;s fate should be before I
+stirred abroad, though several times in her distress I conveyed money to her
+for her relief.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+At length she came to her trial. She pleaded she did not steal the thing, but
+that one Mrs. Flanders, as she heard her called (for she did not know her),
+gave the bundle to her after they came out of the shop, and bade her carry it
+home to her lodging. They asked her where this Mrs. Flanders was, but she could
+not produce her, neither could she give the least account of me; and the
+mercer&rsquo;s men swearing positively that she was in the shop when the goods
+were stolen, that they immediately missed them, and pursued her, and found them
+upon her, thereupon the jury brought her in guilty; but the Court, considering
+that she was really not the person that stole the goods, an inferior assistant,
+and that it was very possible she could not find out this Mrs. Flanders,
+meaning me, though it would save her life, which indeed was true&mdash;I say,
+considering all this, they allowed her to be transported, which was the utmost
+favour she could obtain, only that the Court told her that if she could in the
+meantime produce the said Mrs. Flanders, they would intercede for her pardon;
+that is to say, if she could find me out, and hand me, she should not be
+transported. This I took care to make impossible to her, and so she was shipped
+off in pursuance of her sentence a little while after.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+I must repeat it again, that the fate of this poor woman troubled me
+exceedingly, and I began to be very pensive, knowing that I was really the
+instrument of her disaster; but the preservation of my own life, which was so
+evidently in danger, took off all my tenderness; and seeing that she was not
+put to death, I was very easy at her transportation, because she was then out
+of the way of doing me any mischief, whatever should happen.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+The disaster of this woman was some months before that of the last-recited
+story, and was indeed partly occasion of my governess proposing to dress me up
+in men&rsquo;s clothes, that I might go about unobserved, as indeed I did; but
+I was soon tired of that disguise, as I have said, for indeed it exposed me to
+too many difficulties.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+I was now easy as to all fear of witnesses against me, for all those that had
+either been concerned with me, or that knew me by the name of Moll Flanders,
+were either hanged or transported; and if I should have had the misfortune to
+be taken, I might call myself anything else, as well as Moll Flanders, and no
+old sins could be placed into my account; so I began to run a-tick again with
+the more freedom, and several successful adventures I made, though not such as
+I had made before.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+We had at that time another fire happened not a great way off from the place
+where my governess lived, and I made an attempt there, as before, but as I was
+not soon enough before the crowd of people came in, and could not get to the
+house I aimed at, instead of a prize, I got a mischief, which had almost put a
+period to my life and all my wicked doings together; for the fire being very
+furious, and the people in a great fright in removing their goods, and throwing
+them out of window, a wench from out of a window threw a feather-bed just upon
+me. It is true, the bed being soft, it broke no bones; but as the weight was
+great, and made greater by the fall, it beat me down, and laid me dead for a
+while. Nor did the people concern themselves much to deliver me from it, or to
+recover me at all; but I lay like one dead and neglected a good while, till
+somebody going to remove the bed out of the way, helped me up. It was indeed a
+wonder the people in the house had not thrown other goods out after it, and
+which might have fallen upon it, and then I had been inevitably killed; but I
+was reserved for further afflictions.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+This accident, however, spoiled my market for that time, and I came home to my
+governess very much hurt and bruised, and frighted to the last degree, and it
+was a good while before she could set me upon my feet again.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+It was now a merry time of the year, and Bartholomew Fair was begun. I had
+never made any walks that way, nor was the common part of the fair of much
+advantage to me; but I took a turn this year into the cloisters, and among the
+rest I fell into one of the raffling shops. It was a thing of no great
+consequence to me, nor did I expect to make much of it; but there came a
+gentleman extremely well dressed and very rich, and as &rsquo;tis frequent to
+talk to everybody in those shops, he singled me out, and was very particular
+with me. First he told me he would put in for me to raffle, and did so; and
+some small matter coming to his lot, he presented it to me (I think it was a
+feather muff); then he continued to keep talking to me with a more than common
+appearance of respect, but still very civil, and much like a gentleman.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+He held me in talk so long, till at last he drew me out of the raffling place
+to the shop-door, and then to a walk in the cloister, still talking of a
+thousand things cursorily without anything to the purpose. At last he told me
+that, without compliment, he was charmed with my company, and asked me if I
+durst trust myself in a coach with him; he told me he was a man of honour, and
+would not offer anything to me unbecoming him as such. I seemed to decline it a
+while, but suffered myself to be importuned a little, and then yielded.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+I was at a loss in my thoughts to conclude at first what this gentleman
+designed; but I found afterwards he had had some drink in his head, and that he
+was not very unwilling to have some more. He carried me in the coach to the
+Spring Garden, at Knightsbridge, where we walked in the gardens, and he treated
+me very handsomely; but I found he drank very freely. He pressed me also to
+drink, but I declined it.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Hitherto he kept his word with me, and offered me nothing amiss. We came away
+in the coach again, and he brought me into the streets, and by this time it was
+near ten o&rsquo;clock at night, and he stopped the coach at a house where, it
+seems, he was acquainted, and where they made no scruple to show us upstairs
+into a room with a bed in it. At first I seemed to be unwilling to go up, but
+after a few words I yielded to that too, being willing to see the end of it,
+and in hope to make something of it at last. As for the bed, etc., I was not
+much concerned about that part.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Here he began to be a little freer with me than he had promised; and I by
+little and little yielded to everything, so that, in a word, he did what he
+pleased with me; I need say no more. All this while he drank freely too, and
+about one in the morning we went into the coach again. The air and the shaking
+of the coach made the drink he had get more up in his head than it was before,
+and he grew uneasy in the coach, and was for acting over again what he had been
+doing before; but as I thought my game now secure, I resisted him, and brought
+him to be a little still, which had not lasted five minutes but he fell fast
+asleep.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+I took this opportunity to search him to a nicety. I took a gold watch, with a
+silk purse of gold, his fine full-bottom periwig and silver-fringed gloves, his
+sword and fine snuff-box, and gently opening the coach door, stood ready to
+jump out while the coach was going on; but the coach stopped in the narrow
+street beyond Temple Bar to let another coach pass, I got softly out, fastened
+the door again, and gave my gentleman and the coach the slip both together, and
+never heard more of them.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+This was an adventure indeed unlooked for, and perfectly undesigned by me;
+though I was not so past the merry part of life, as to forget how to behave,
+when a fop so blinded by his appetite should not know an old woman from a
+young. I did not indeed look so old as I was by ten or twelve years; yet I was
+not a young wench of seventeen, and it was easy enough to be distinguished.
+There is nothing so absurd, so surfeiting, so ridiculous, as a man heated by
+wine in his head, and wicked gust in his inclination together; he is in the
+possession of two devils at once, and can no more govern himself by his reason
+than a mill can grind without water; his vice tramples upon all that was in him
+that had any good in it, if any such thing there was; nay, his very sense is
+blinded by its own rage, and he acts absurdities even in his views; such a
+drinking more, when he is drunk already; picking up a common woman, without
+regard to what she is or who she is, whether sound or rotten, clean or unclean,
+whether ugly or handsome, whether old or young, and so blinded as not really to
+distinguish. Such a man is worse than a lunatic; prompted by his vicious,
+corrupted head, he no more knows what he is doing than this wretch of mine knew
+when I picked his pocket of his watch and his purse of gold.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+These are the men of whom Solomon says, &ldquo;They go like an ox to the
+slaughter, till a dart strikes through their liver&rdquo;; an admirable
+description, by the way, of the foul disease, which is a poisonous deadly
+contagion mingling with the blood, whose centre or foundation is in the liver;
+from whence, by the swift circulation of the whole mass, that dreadful nauseous
+plague strikes immediately through his liver, and his spirits are infected, his
+vitals stabbed through as with a dart.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+It is true this poor unguarded wretch was in no danger from me, though I was
+greatly apprehensive at first of what danger I might be in from him; but he was
+really to be pitied in one respect, that he seemed to be a good sort of man in
+himself; a gentleman that had no harm in his design; a man of sense, and of a
+fine behaviour, a comely handsome person, a sober solid countenance, a charming
+beautiful face, and everything that could be agreeable; only had unhappily had
+some drink the night before, had not been in bed, as he told me when we were
+together; was hot, and his blood fired with wine, and in that condition his
+reason, as it were asleep, had given him up.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+As for me, my business was his money, and what I could make of him; and after
+that, if I could have found out any way to have done it, I would have sent him
+safe home to his house and to his family, for &rsquo;twas ten to one but he had
+an honest, virtuous wife and innocent children, that were anxious for his
+safety, and would have been glad to have gotten him home, and have taken care
+of him till he was restored to himself. And then with what shame and regret
+would he look back upon himself! how would he reproach himself with associating
+himself with a whore! picked up in the worst of all holes, the cloister, among
+the dirt and filth of all the town! how would he be trembling for fear he had
+got the pox, for fear a dart had struck through his liver, and hate himself
+every time he looked back upon the madness and brutality of his debauch! how
+would he, if he had any principles of honour, as I verily believe he
+had&mdash;I say, how would he abhor the thought of giving any ill distemper, if
+he had it, as for aught he knew he might, to his modest and virtuous wife, and
+thereby sowing the contagion in the life-blood of his posterity.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Would such gentlemen but consider the contemptible thoughts which the very
+women they are concerned with, in such cases as these, have of them, it would
+be a surfeit to them. As I said above, they value not the pleasure, they are
+raised by no inclination to the man, the passive jade thinks of no pleasure but
+the money; and when he is, as it were, drunk in the ecstasies of his wicked
+pleasure, her hands are in his pockets searching for what she can find there,
+and of which he can no more be sensible in the moment of his folly that he can
+forethink of it when he goes about it.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+I knew a woman that was so dexterous with a fellow, who indeed deserved no
+better usage, that while he was busy with her another way, conveyed his purse
+with twenty guineas in it out of his fob-pocket, where he had put it for fear
+of her, and put another purse with gilded counters in it into the room of it.
+After he had done, he says to her, &ldquo;Now han&rsquo;t you picked my
+pocket?&rdquo; She jested with him, and told him she supposed he had not much
+to lose; he put his hand to his fob, and with his fingers felt that his purse
+was there, which fully satisfied him, and so she brought off his money. And
+this was a trade with her; she kept a sham gold watch, that is, a watch of
+silver gilt, and a purse of counters in her pocket to be ready on all such
+occasions, and I doubt not practiced it with success.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+I came home with this last booty to my governess, and really when I told her
+the story, it so affected her that she was hardly able to forbear tears, to
+know how such a gentleman ran a daily risk of being undone every time a glass
+of wine got into his head.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+But as to the purchase I got, and how entirely I stripped him, she told me it
+pleased her wonderfully. &ldquo;Nay child,&rdquo; says she, &ldquo;the usage
+may, for aught I know, do more to reform him than all the sermons that ever he
+will hear in his life.&rdquo; And if the remainder of the story be true, so it
+did.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+I found the next day she was wonderful inquisitive about this gentleman; the
+description I had given her of him, his dress, his person, his face, everything
+concurred to make her think of a gentleman whose character she knew, and family
+too. She mused a while, and I going still on with the particulars, she starts
+up; says she, &ldquo;I&rsquo;ll lay &pound;100 I know the gentleman.&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;I am sorry you do,&rdquo; says I, &ldquo;for I would not have him
+exposed on any account in the world; he has had injury enough already by me,
+and I would not be instrumental to do him any more.&rdquo; &ldquo;No,
+no,&rdquo; says she, &ldquo;I will do him no injury, I assure you, but you may
+let me satisfy my curiosity a little, for if it is he, I warrant you I find it
+out.&rdquo; I was a little startled at that, and told her, with an apparent
+concern in my face, that by the same rule he might find me out, and then I was
+undone. She returned warmly, &ldquo;Why, do you think I will betray you, child?
+No, no,&rdquo; says she, &ldquo;not for all he is worth in the world. I have
+kept your counsel in worse things than these; sure you may trust me in
+this.&rdquo; So I said no more at that time.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+She laid her scheme another way, and without acquainting me of it, but she was
+resolved to find it out if possible. So she goes to a certain friend of hers
+who was acquainted in the family that she guessed at, and told her friend she
+had some extraordinary business with such a gentleman (who, by the way, was no
+less than a baronet, and of a very good family), and that she knew not how to
+come at him without somebody to introduce her. Her friend promised her very
+readily to do it, and accordingly goes to the house to see if the gentleman was
+in town.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+The next day she come to my governess and tells her that Sir &mdash;&mdash; was
+at home, but that he had met with a disaster and was very ill, and there was no
+speaking with him. &ldquo;What disaster?&rdquo; says my governess hastily, as
+if she was surprised at it. &ldquo;Why,&rdquo; says her friend, &ldquo;he had
+been at Hampstead to visit a gentleman of his acquaintance, and as he came back
+again he was set upon and robbed; and having got a little drink too, as they
+suppose, the rogues abused him, and he is very ill.&rdquo;
+&ldquo;Robbed!&rdquo; says my governess, &ldquo;and what did they take from
+him?&rdquo; &ldquo;Why,&rdquo; says her friend, &ldquo;they took his gold watch
+and his gold snuff-box, his fine periwig, and what money he had in his pocket,
+which was considerable, to be sure, for Sir &mdash;&mdash; never goes without a
+purse of guineas about him.&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;Pshaw!&rdquo; says my old governess, jeering, &ldquo;I warrant you he
+has got drunk now and got a whore, and she has picked his pocket, and so he
+comes home to his wife and tells her he has been robbed. That&rsquo;s an old
+sham; a thousand such tricks are put upon the poor women every day.&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;Fie!&rdquo; says her friend, &ldquo;I find you don&rsquo;t know Sir
+&mdash;&mdash;; why he is as civil a gentleman, there is not a finer man, nor a
+soberer, graver, modester person in the whole city; he abhors such things;
+there&rsquo;s nobody that knows him will think such a thing of him.&rdquo;
+&ldquo;Well, well,&rdquo; says my governess, &ldquo;that&rsquo;s none of my
+business; if it was, I warrant I should find there was something of that kind
+in it; your modest men in common opinion are sometimes no better than other
+people, only they keep a better character, or, if you please, are the better
+hypocrites.&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;No, no,&rdquo; says her friend, &ldquo;I can assure you Sir
+&mdash;&mdash; is no hypocrite, he is really an honest, sober gentleman, and he
+has certainly been robbed.&rdquo; &ldquo;Nay,&rdquo; says my governess,
+&ldquo;it may be he has; it is no business of mine, I tell you; I only want to
+speak with him; my business is of another nature.&rdquo; &ldquo;But,&rdquo;
+says her friend, &ldquo;let your business be of what nature it will, you cannot
+see him yet, for he is not fit to be seen, for he is very ill, and bruised very
+much.&rdquo; &ldquo;Ay,&rdquo; says my governess, &ldquo;nay, then he has
+fallen into bad hands, to be sure.&rdquo; And then she asked gravely,
+&ldquo;Pray, where is he bruised?&rdquo; &ldquo;Why, in the head,&rdquo; says
+her friend, &ldquo;and one of his hands, and his face, for they used him
+barbarously.&rdquo; &ldquo;Poor gentleman,&rdquo; says my governess, &ldquo;I
+must wait, then, till he recovers&rdquo;; and adds, &ldquo;I hope it will not
+be long, for I want very much to speak with him.&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Away she comes to me and tells me this story. &ldquo;I have found out your fine
+gentleman, and a fine gentleman he was,&rdquo; says she; &ldquo;but, mercy on
+him, he is in a sad pickle now. I wonder what the d&mdash;l you have done to
+him; why, you have almost killed him.&rdquo; I looked at her with disorder
+enough. &ldquo;I killed him!&rdquo; says I; &ldquo;you must mistake the person;
+I am sure I did nothing to him; he was very well when I left him,&rdquo; said
+I, &ldquo;only drunk and fast asleep.&rdquo; &ldquo;I know nothing of
+that,&rdquo; says she, &ldquo;but he is in a sad pickle now&rdquo;; and so she
+told me all that her friend had said to her. &ldquo;Well, then,&rdquo; says I,
+&ldquo;he fell into bad hands after I left him, for I am sure I left him safe
+enough.&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+About ten days after, or a little more, my governess goes again to her friend,
+to introduce her to this gentleman; she had inquired other ways in the
+meantime, and found that he was about again, if not abroad again, so she got
+leave to speak with him.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+She was a woman of a admirable address, and wanted nobody to introduce her; she
+told her tale much better than I shall be able to tell it for her, for she was
+a mistress of her tongue, as I have said already. She told him that she came,
+though a stranger, with a single design of doing him a service and he should
+find she had no other end in it; that as she came purely on so friendly an
+account, she begged promise from him, that if he did not accept what she should
+officiously propose he would not take it ill that she meddled with what was not
+her business. She assured him that as what she had to say was a secret that
+belonged to him only, so whether he accepted her offer or not, it should remain
+a secret to all the world, unless he exposed it himself; nor should his
+refusing her service in it make her so little show her respect as to do him the
+least injury, so that he should be entirely at liberty to act as he thought
+fit.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+He looked very shy at first, and said he knew nothing that related to him that
+required much secrecy; that he had never done any man any wrong, and cared not
+what anybody might say of him; that it was no part of his character to be
+unjust to anybody, nor could he imagine in what any man could render him any
+service; but that if it was so disinterested a service as she said, he could
+not take it ill from any one that they should endeavour to serve him; and so,
+as it were, left her a liberty either to tell him or not to tell, as she
+thought fit.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+She found him so perfectly indifferent, that she was almost afraid to enter
+into the point with him; but, however, after some other circumlocutions she
+told him that by a strange and unaccountable accident she came to have a
+particular knowledge of the late unhappy adventure he had fallen into, and that
+in such a manner, that there was nobody in the world but herself and him that
+were acquainted with it, no, not the very person that was with him.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+He looked a little angrily at first. &ldquo;What adventure?&rdquo; said he.
+&ldquo;Why,&rdquo; said she, &ldquo;of your being robbed coming from
+Knightbr&mdash;&mdash;; Hampstead, sir, I should say,&rdquo; says she.
+&ldquo;Be not surprised, sir,&rdquo; says she, &ldquo;that I am able to tell
+you every step you took that day from the cloister in Smithfield to the Spring
+Garden at Knightsbridge, and thence to the &mdash;&mdash; in the Strand, and
+how you were left asleep in the coach afterwards. I say, let not this surprise
+you, for, sir, I do not come to make a booty of you, I ask nothing of you, and
+I assure you the woman that was with you knows nothing who you are, and never
+shall; and yet perhaps I may serve you further still, for I did not come barely
+to let you know that I was informed of these things, as if I wanted a bribe to
+conceal them; assure yourself, sir,&rdquo; said she, &ldquo;that whatever you
+think fit to do or say to me, it shall be all a secret as it is, as much as if
+I were in my grave.&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+He was astonished at her discourse, and said gravely to her, &ldquo;Madam, you
+are a stranger to me, but it is very unfortunate that you should be let into
+the secret of the worst action of my life, and a thing that I am so justly
+ashamed of, that the only satisfaction of it to me was, that I thought it was
+known only to God and my own conscience.&rdquo; &ldquo;Pray, sir,&rdquo; says
+she, &ldquo;do not reckon the discovery of it to me to be any part of your
+misfortune. It was a thing, I believe, you were surprised into, and perhaps the
+woman used some art to prompt you to it; however, you will never find any just
+cause,&rdquo; said she, &ldquo;to repent that I came to hear of it; nor can
+your own mouth be more silent in it that I have been, and ever shall be.&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;Well,&rdquo; says he, &ldquo;but let me do some justice to the woman
+too; whoever she is, I do assure you she prompted me to nothing, she rather
+declined me. It was my own folly and madness that brought me into it all, ay,
+and brought her into it too; I must give her her due so far. As to what she
+took from me, I could expect no less from her in the condition I was in, and to
+this hour I know not whether she robbed me or the coachman; if she did it, I
+forgive her, and I think all gentlemen that do so should be used in the same
+manner; but I am more concerned for some other things that I am for all that
+she took from me.&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+My governess now began to come into the whole matter, and he opened himself
+freely to her. First she said to him, in answer to what he had said about me,
+&ldquo;I am glad, sir, you are so just to the person that you were with; I
+assure you she is a gentlewoman, and no woman of the town; and however you
+prevailed with her so far as you did, I am sure &rsquo;tis not her practice.
+You ran a great venture indeed, sir; but if that be any part of your care, I am
+persuaded you may be perfectly easy, for I dare assure you no man has touched
+her, before you, since her husband, and he has been dead now almost eight
+years.&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+It appeared that this was his grievance, and that he was in a very great fright
+about it; however, when my governess said this to him, he appeared very well
+pleased, and said, &ldquo;Well, madam, to be plain with you, if I was satisfied
+of that, I should not so much value what I lost; for, as to that, the
+temptation was great, and perhaps she was poor and wanted it.&rdquo; &ldquo;If
+she had not been poor, sir &mdash;&mdash;,&rdquo; says my governess, &ldquo;I
+assure you she would never have yielded to you; and as her poverty first
+prevailed with her to let you do as you did, so the same poverty prevailed with
+her to pay herself at last, when she saw you were in such a condition, that if
+she had not done it, perhaps the next coachman might have done it.&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;Well,&rdquo; says he, &ldquo;much good may it do her. I say again, all
+the gentlemen that do so ought to be used in the same manner, and then they
+would be cautious of themselves. I have no more concern about it, but on the
+score which you hinted at before, madam.&rdquo; Here he entered into some
+freedoms with her on the subject of what passed between us, which are not so
+proper for a woman to write, and the great terror that was upon his mind with
+relation to his wife, for fear he should have received any injury from me, and
+should communicate it farther; and asked her at last if she could not procure
+him an opportunity to speak with me. My governess gave him further assurances
+of my being a woman clear from any such thing, and that he was as entirely safe
+in that respect as he was with his own lady; but as for seeing me, she said it
+might be of dangerous consequence; but, however, that she would talk with me,
+and let him know my answer, using at the same time some arguments to persuade
+him not to desire it, and that it could be of no service to him, seeing she
+hoped he had no desire to renew a correspondence with me, and that on my
+account it was a kind of putting my life in his hands.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+He told her he had a great desire to see me, that he would give her any
+assurances that were in his power, not to take any advantages of me, and that
+in the first place he would give me a general release from all demands of any
+kind. She insisted how it might tend to a further divulging the secret, and
+might in the end be injurious to him, entreating him not to press for it; so at
+length he desisted.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+They had some discourse upon the subject of the things he had lost, and he
+seemed to be very desirous of his gold watch, and told her if she could procure
+that for him, he would willingly give as much for it as it was worth. She told
+him she would endeavour to procure it for him, and leave the valuing it to
+himself.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Accordingly the next day she carried the watch, and he gave her thirty guineas
+for it, which was more than I should have been able to make of it, though it
+seems it cost much more. He spoke something of his periwig, which it seems cost
+him threescore guineas, and his snuff-box, and in a few days more she carried
+them too; which obliged him very much, and he gave her thirty more. The next
+day I sent him his fine sword and cane gratis, and demanded nothing of him, but
+I had no mind to see him, unless it had been so that he might be satisfied I
+knew who he was, which he was not willing to.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Then he entered into a long talk with her of the manner how she came to know
+all this matter. She formed a long tale of that part; how she had it from one
+that I had told the whole story to, and that was to help me dispose of the
+goods; and this confidante brought the things to her, she being by profession a
+pawnbroker; and she hearing of his worship&rsquo;s disaster, guessed at the
+thing in general; that having gotten the things into her hands, she had
+resolved to come and try as she had done. She then gave him repeated assurances
+that it should never go out of her mouth, and though she knew the woman very
+well, yet she had not let her know, meaning me, anything of it; that is to say,
+who the person was, which, by the way, was false; but, however, it was not to
+his damage, for I never opened my mouth of it to anybody.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+I had a great many thoughts in my head about my seeing him again, and was often
+sorry that I had refused it. I was persuaded that if I had seen him, and let
+him know that I knew him, I should have made some advantage of him, and perhaps
+have had some maintenance from him; and though it was a life wicked enough, yet
+it was not so full of danger as this I was engaged in. However, those thoughts
+wore off, and I declined seeing him again, for that time; but my governess saw
+him often, and he was very kind to her, giving her something almost every time
+he saw her. One time in particular she found him very merry, and as she thought
+he had some wine in his head, and he pressed her again very earnestly to let
+him see that woman that, as he said, had bewitched him so that night, my
+governess, who was from the beginning for my seeing him, told him he was so
+desirous of it that she could almost yield of it, if she could prevail upon me;
+adding that if he would please to come to her house in the evening, she would
+endeavour it, upon his repeated assurances of forgetting what was past.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Accordingly she came to me, and told me all the discourse; in short, she soon
+biassed me to consent, in a case which I had some regret in my mind for
+declining before; so I prepared to see him. I dressed me to all the advantage
+possible, I assure you, and for the first time used a little art; I say for the
+first time, for I had never yielded to the baseness of paint before, having
+always had vanity enough to believe I had no need of it.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+At the hour appointed he came; and as she observed before, so it was plain
+still, that he had been drinking, though very far from what we call being in
+drink. He appeared exceeding pleased to see me, and entered into a long
+discourse with me upon the old affair. I begged his pardon very often for my
+share of it, protested I had not any such design when first I met him, that I
+had not gone out with him but that I took him for a very civil gentleman, and
+that he made me so many promises of offering no uncivility to me.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+He alleged the wine he drank, and that he scarce knew what he did, and that if
+it had not been so, I should never have let him take the freedom with me that
+he had done. He protested to me that he never touched any woman but me since he
+was married to his wife, and it was a surprise upon him; complimented me upon
+being so particularly agreeable to him, and the like; and talked so much of
+that kind, till I found he had talked himself almost into a temper to do the
+same thing over again. But I took him up short. I protested I had never
+suffered any man to touch me since my husband died, which was near eight years.
+He said he believed it to be so truly; and added that madam had intimated as
+much to him, and that it was his opinion of that part which made his desire to
+see me again; and that since he had once broke in upon his virtue with me, and
+found no ill consequences, he could be safe in venturing there again; and so,
+in short, it went on to what I expected, and to what will not bear relating.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+My old governess had foreseen it, as well as I, and therefore led him into a
+room which had not a bed in it, and yet had a chamber within it which had a
+bed, whither we withdrew for the rest of the night; and, in short, after some
+time being together, he went to bed, and lay there all night. I withdrew, but
+came again undressed in the morning, before it was day, and lay with him the
+rest of the time.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Thus, you see, having committed a crime once is a sad handle to the committing
+of it again; whereas all the regret and reflections wear off when the
+temptation renews itself. Had I not yielded to see him again, the corrupt
+desire in him had worn off, and &rsquo;tis very probable he had never fallen
+into it with anybody else, as I really believe he had not done before.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+When he went away, I told him I hoped he was satisfied he had not been robbed
+again. He told me he was satisfied in that point, and could trust me again, and
+putting his hand in his pocket, gave me five guineas, which was the first money
+I had gained that way for many years.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+I had several visits of the like kind from him, but he never came into a
+settled way of maintenance, which was what I would have best pleased with.
+Once, indeed, he asked me how I did to live. I answered him pretty quick, that
+I assured him I had never taken that course that I took with him, but that
+indeed I worked at my needle, and could just maintain myself; that sometime it
+was as much as I was able to do, and I shifted hard enough.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+He seemed to reflect upon himself that he should be the first person to lead me
+into that, which he assured me he never intended to do himself; and it touched
+him a little, he said, that he should be the cause of his own sin and mine too.
+He would often make just reflections also upon the crime itself, and upon the
+particular circumstances of it with respect to himself; how wine introduced the
+inclinations, how the devil led him to the place, and found out an object to
+tempt him, and he made the moral always himself.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+When these thoughts were upon him he would go away, and perhaps not come again
+in a month&rsquo;s time or longer; but then as the serious part wore off, the
+lewd part would wear in, and then he came prepared for the wicked part. Thus we
+lived for some time; though he did not keep, as they call it, yet he never
+failed doing things that were handsome, and sufficient to maintain me without
+working, and, which was better, without following my old trade.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+But this affair had its end too; for after about a year, I found that he did
+not come so often as usual, and at last he left if off altogether without any
+dislike to bidding adieu; and so there was an end of that short scene of life,
+which added no great store to me, only to make more work for repentance.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+However, during this interval I confined myself pretty much at home; at least,
+being thus provided for, I made no adventures, no, not for a quarter of a year
+after he left me; but then finding the fund fail, and being loth to spend upon
+the main stock, I began to think of my old trade, and to look abroad into the
+street again; and my first step was lucky enough.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+I had dressed myself up in a very mean habit, for as I had several shapes to
+appear in, I was now in an ordinary stuff-gown, a blue apron, and a straw hat
+and I placed myself at the door of the Three Cups Inn in St. John Street. There
+were several carriers used the inn, and the stage-coaches for Barnet, for
+Totteridge, and other towns that way stood always in the street in the evening,
+when they prepared to set out, so that I was ready for anything that offered,
+for either one or other. The meaning was this; people come frequently with
+bundles and small parcels to those inns, and call for such carriers or coaches
+as they want, to carry them into the country; and there generally attend women,
+porters&rsquo; wives or daughters, ready to take in such things for their
+respective people that employ them.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+It happened very oddly that I was standing at the inn gate, and a woman that
+had stood there before, and which was the porter&rsquo;s wife belonging to the
+Barnet stage-coach, having observed me, asked if I waited for any of the
+coaches. I told her Yes, I waited for my mistress, that was coming to go to
+Barnet. She asked me who was my mistress, and I told her any madam&rsquo;s name
+that came next me; but as it seemed, I happened upon a name, a family of which
+name lived at Hadley, just beyond Barnet.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+I said no more to her, or she to me, a good while; but by and by, somebody
+calling her at a door a little way off, she desired me that if anybody called
+for the Barnet coach, I would step and call her at the house, which it seems
+was an alehouse. I said Yes, very readily, and away she went.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+She was no sooner gone but comes a wench and a child, puffing and sweating, and
+asks for the Barnet coach. I answered presently, &ldquo;Here.&rdquo; &ldquo;Do
+you belong to the Barnet coach?&rdquo; says she. &ldquo;Yes, sweetheart,&rdquo;
+said I; &ldquo;what do ye want?&rdquo; &ldquo;I want room for two
+passengers,&rdquo; says she. &ldquo;Where are they, sweetheart?&rdquo; said I.
+&ldquo;Here&rsquo;s this girl, pray let her go into the coach,&rdquo; says she,
+&ldquo;and I&rsquo;ll go and fetch my mistress.&rdquo; &ldquo;Make haste, then,
+sweetheart,&rdquo; says I, &ldquo;for we may be full else.&rdquo; The maid had
+a great bundle under her arm; so she put the child into the coach, and I said,
+&ldquo;You had best put your bundle into the coach too.&rdquo;
+&ldquo;No,&rdquo; says she, &ldquo;I am afraid somebody should slip it away
+from the child.&rdquo; &ldquo;Give to me, then,&rdquo; said I, &ldquo;and
+I&rsquo;ll take care of it.&rdquo; &ldquo;Do, then,&rdquo; says she, &ldquo;and
+be sure you take of it.&rdquo; &ldquo;I&rsquo;ll answer for it,&rdquo; said I,
+&ldquo;if it were for &pound;20 value.&rdquo; &ldquo;There, take it,
+then,&rdquo; says she, and away she goes.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+As soon as I had got the bundle, and the maid was out of sight, I goes on
+towards the alehouse, where the porter&rsquo;s wife was, so that if I had met
+her, I had then only been going to give her the bundle, and to call her to her
+business, as if I was going away, and could stay no longer; but as I did not
+meet her, I walked away, and turning into Charterhouse Lane, then crossed into
+Bartholomew Close, so into Little Britain, and through the Bluecoat Hospital,
+into Newgate Street.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+To prevent my being known, I pulled off my blue apron, and wrapped the bundle
+in it, which before was made up in a piece of painted calico, and very
+remarkable; I also wrapped up my straw hat in it, and so put the bundle upon my
+head; and it was very well that I did thus, for coming through the Bluecoat
+Hospital, who should I meet but the wench that had given me the bundle to hold.
+It seems she was going with her mistress, whom she had been gone to fetch, to
+the Barnet coaches.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+I saw she was in haste, and I had no business to stop her; so away she went,
+and I brought my bundle safe home to my governess. There was no money, nor
+plate, or jewels in the bundle, but a very good suit of Indian damask, a gown
+and a petticoat, a laced-head and ruffles of very good Flanders lace, and some
+linen and other things, such as I knew very well the value of.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+This was not indeed my own invention, but was given me by one that had
+practised it with success, and my governess liked it extremely; and indeed I
+tried it again several times, though never twice near the same place; for the
+next time I tried it in White Chapel, just by the corner of Petticoat Lane,
+where the coaches stand that go out to Stratford and Bow, and that side of the
+country, and another time at the Flying Horse, without Bishopgate, where the
+Cheston coaches then lay; and I had always the good luck to come off with some
+booty.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Another time I placed myself at a warehouse by the waterside, where the
+coasting vessels from the north come, such as from Newcastle-upon-Tyne,
+Sunderland, and other places. Here, the warehouses being shut, comes a young
+fellow with a letter; and he wanted a box and a hamper that was come from
+Newcastle-upon-Tyne. I asked him if he had the marks of it; so he shows me the
+letter, by virtue of which he was to ask for it, and which gave an account of
+the contents, the box being full of linen, and the hamper full of glass ware. I
+read the letter, and took care to see the name, and the marks, the name of the
+person that sent the goods, the name of the person that they were sent to; then
+I bade the messenger come in the morning, for that the warehouse-keeper would
+not be there any more that night.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Away went I, and getting materials in a public house, I wrote a letter from Mr.
+John Richardson of Newcastle to his dear cousin Jemmy Cole, in London, with an
+account that he sent by such a vessel (for I remembered all the particulars to
+a title), so many pieces of huckaback linen, so many ells of Dutch holland and
+the like, in a box, and a hamper of flint glasses from Mr. Henzill&rsquo;s
+glasshouse; and that the box was marked I. C. No. 1, and the hamper was
+directed by a label on the cording.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+About an hour after, I came to the warehouse, found the warehouse-keeper, and
+had the goods delivered me without any scruple; the value of the linen being
+about &pound;22.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+I could fill up this whole discourse with the variety of such adventures, which
+daily invention directed to, and which I managed with the utmost dexterity, and
+always with success.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+At length&mdash;as when does the pitcher come safe home that goes so very often
+to the well?&mdash;I fell into some small broils, which though they could not
+affect me fatally, yet made me known, which was the worst thing next to being
+found guilty that could befall me.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+I had taken up the disguise of a widow&rsquo;s dress; it was without any real
+design in view, but only waiting for anything that might offer, as I often did.
+It happened that while I was going along the street in Covent Garden, there was
+a great cry of &ldquo;Stop thief! Stop thief!&rdquo; some artists had, it
+seems, put a trick upon a shopkeeper, and being pursued, some of them fled one
+way, and some another; and one of them was, they said, dressed up in
+widow&rsquo;s weeds, upon which the mob gathered about me, and some said I was
+the person, others said no. Immediately came the mercer&rsquo;s journeyman, and
+he swore aloud I was the person, and so seized on me. However, when I was
+brought back by the mob to the mercer&rsquo;s shop, the master of the house
+said freely that I was not the woman that was in his shop, and would have let
+me go immediately; but another fellow said gravely, &ldquo;Pray stay till Mr.
+&mdash;&mdash;&rdquo; (meaning the journeyman) &ldquo;comes back, for he knows
+her.&rdquo; So they kept me by force near half an hour. They had called a
+constable, and he stood in the shop as my jailer; and in talking with the
+constable I inquired where he lived, and what trade he was; the man not
+apprehending in the least what happened afterwards, readily told me his name,
+and trade, and where he lived; and told me as a jest, that I might be sure to
+hear of his name when I came to the Old Bailey.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Some of the servants likewise used me saucily, and had much ado to keep their
+hands off me; the master indeed was civiller to me than they, but he would not
+yet let me go, though he owned he could not say I was in his shop before.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+I began to be a little surly with him, and told him I hoped he would not take
+it ill if I made myself amends upon him in a more legal way another time; and
+desired I might send for friends to see me have right done me. No, he said, he
+could give no such liberty; I might ask it when I came before the justice of
+peace; and seeing I threatened him, he would take care of me in the meantime,
+and would lodge me safe in Newgate. I told him it was his time now, but it
+would be mine by and by, and governed my passion as well as I was able.
+However, I spoke to the constable to call me a porter, which he did, and then I
+called for pen, ink, and paper, but they would let me have none. I asked the
+porter his name, and where he lived, and the poor man told it me very
+willingly. I bade him observe and remember how I was treated there; that he saw
+I was detained there by force. I told him I should want his evidence in another
+place, and it should not be the worse for him to speak. The porter said he
+would serve me with all his heart. &ldquo;But, madam,&rdquo; says he,
+&ldquo;let me hear them refuse to let you go, then I may be able to speak the
+plainer.&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+With that I spoke aloud to the master of the shop, and said, &ldquo;Sir, you
+know in your own conscience that I am not the person you look for, and that I
+was not in your shop before, therefore I demand that you detain me here no
+longer, or tell me the reason of your stopping me.&rdquo; The fellow grew
+surlier upon this than before, and said he would do neither till he thought
+fit. &ldquo;Very well,&rdquo; said I to the constable and to the porter;
+&ldquo;you will be pleased to remember this, gentlemen, another time.&rdquo;
+The porter said, &ldquo;Yes, madam&rdquo;; and the constable began not to like
+it, and would have persuaded the mercer to dismiss him, and let me go, since,
+as he said, he owned I was not the person. &ldquo;Good, sir,&rdquo; says the
+mercer to him tauntingly, &ldquo;are you a justice of peace or a constable? I
+charged you with her; pray do you do your duty.&rdquo; The constable told him,
+a little moved, but very handsomely, &ldquo;I know my duty, and what I am, sir;
+I doubt you hardly know what you are doing.&rdquo; They had some other hard
+words, and in the meantime the journeyman, impudent and unmanly to the last
+degree, used me barbarously, and one of them, the same that first seized upon
+me, pretended he would search me, and began to lay hands on me. I spit in his
+face, called out to the constable, and bade him to take notice of my usage.
+&ldquo;And pray, Mr. Constable,&rdquo; said I, &ldquo;ask that villain&rsquo;s
+name,&rdquo; pointing to the man. The constable reproved him decently, told him
+that he did not know what he did, for he knew that his master acknowledged I
+was not the person that was in his shop; &ldquo;and,&rdquo; says the constable,
+&ldquo;I am afraid your master is bringing himself, and me too, into trouble,
+if this gentlewoman comes to prove who she is, and where she was, and it
+appears that she is not the woman you pretend to.&rdquo; &ldquo;Damn
+her,&rdquo; says the fellow again, with a impudent, hardened face, &ldquo;she
+is the lady, you may depend upon it; I&rsquo;ll swear she is the same body that
+was in the shop, and that I gave the pieces of satin that is lost into her own
+hand. You shall hear more of it when Mr. William and Mr. Anthony (those were
+other journeymen) come back; they will know her again as well as I.&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Just as the insolent rogue was talking thus to the constable, comes back Mr.
+William and Mr. Anthony, as he called them, and a great rabble with them,
+bringing along with them the true widow that I was pretended to be; and they
+came sweating and blowing into the shop, and with a great deal of triumph,
+dragging the poor creature in the most butcherly manner up towards their
+master, who was in the back shop, and cried out aloud, &ldquo;Here&rsquo;s the
+widow, sir; we have catched her at last.&rdquo; &ldquo;What do ye mean by
+that?&rdquo; says the master. &ldquo;Why, we have her already; there she
+sits,&rdquo; says he, &ldquo;and Mr. &mdash;&mdash;,&rdquo; says he, &ldquo;can
+swear this is she.&rdquo; The other man, whom they called Mr. Anthony, replied,
+&ldquo;Mr. &mdash;&mdash; may say what he will, and swear what he will, but
+this is the woman, and there&rsquo;s the remnant of satin she stole; I took it
+out of her clothes with my own hand.&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+I sat still now, and began to take a better heart, but smiled and said nothing;
+the master looked pale; the constable turned about and looked at me. &ldquo;Let
+&rsquo;em alone, Mr. Constable,&rdquo; said I; &ldquo;let &ldquo;em go
+on.&rdquo; The case was plain and could not be denied, so the constable was
+charged with the right thief, and the mercer told me very civilly he was sorry
+for the mistake, and hoped I would not take it ill; that they had so many
+things of this nature put upon them every day, that they could not be blamed
+for being very sharp in doing themselves justice. &ldquo;Not take it ill,
+sir!&rdquo; said I; &ldquo;how can I take it well! If you had dismissed me when
+your insolent fellow seized on me it the street, and brought me to you, and
+when you yourself acknowledged I was not the person, I would have put it by,
+and not taken it ill, because of the many ill things I believe you have put
+upon you daily; but your treatment of me since has been insufferable, and
+especially that of your servant; I must and will have reparation for
+that.&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Then he began to parley with me, said he would make me any reasonable
+satisfaction, and would fain have had me tell him what it was I expected. I
+told him that I should not be my own judge, the law should decide it for me;
+and as I was to be carried before a magistrate, I should let him hear there
+what I had to say. He told me there was no occasion to go before the justice
+now, I was at liberty to go where I pleased; and so, calling to the constable,
+told him he might let me go, for I was discharged. The constable said calmly to
+him, &ldquo;sir, you asked me just now if I knew whether I was a constable or
+justice, and bade me do my duty, and charged me with this gentlewoman as a
+prisoner. Now, sir, I find you do not understand what is my duty, for you would
+make me a justice indeed; but I must tell you it is not in my power. I may keep
+a prisoner when I am charged with him, but &rsquo;tis the law and the
+magistrate alone that can discharge that prisoner; therefore &rsquo;tis a
+mistake, sir; I must carry her before a justice now, whether you think well of
+it or not.&rdquo; The mercer was very high with the constable at first; but the
+constable happening to be not a hired officer, but a good, substantial kind of
+man (I think he was a corn-handler), and a man of good sense, stood to his
+business, would not discharge me without going to a justice of the peace; and I
+insisted upon it too. When the mercer saw that, &ldquo;Well,&rdquo; says he to
+the constable, &ldquo;you may carry her where you please; I have nothing to say
+to her.&rdquo; &ldquo;But, sir,&rdquo; says the constable, &ldquo;you will go
+with us, I hope, for &rsquo;tis you that charged me with her.&rdquo; &ldquo;No,
+not I,&rdquo; says the mercer; &ldquo;I tell you I have nothing to say to
+her.&rdquo; &ldquo;But pray, sir, do,&rdquo; says the constable; &ldquo;I
+desire it of you for your own sake, for the justice can do nothing without
+you.&rdquo; &ldquo;Prithee, fellow,&rdquo; says the mercer, &ldquo;go about
+your business; I tell you I have nothing to say to the gentlewoman. I charge
+you in the king&rsquo;s name to dismiss her.&rdquo; &ldquo;Sir,&rdquo; says the
+constable, &ldquo;I find you don&rsquo;t know what it is to be constable; I beg
+of you don&rsquo;t oblige me to be rude to you.&rdquo; &ldquo;I think I need
+not; you are rude enough already,&rdquo; says the mercer. &ldquo;No,
+sir,&rdquo; says the constable, &ldquo;I am not rude; you have broken the peace
+in bringing an honest woman out of the street, when she was about her lawful
+occasion, confining her in your shop, and ill-using her here by your servants;
+and now can you say I am rude to you? I think I am civil to you in not
+commanding or charging you in the king&rsquo;s name to go with me, and charging
+every man I see that passes your door to aid and assist me in carrying you by
+force; this you cannot but know I have power to do, and yet I forbear it, and
+once more entreat you to go with me.&rdquo; Well, he would not for all this,
+and gave the constable ill language. However, the constable kept his temper,
+and would not be provoked; and then I put in and said, &ldquo;Come, Mr.
+Constable, let him alone; I shall find ways enough to fetch him before a
+magistrate, I don&rsquo;t fear that; but there&rsquo;s the fellow,&rdquo; says
+I, &ldquo;he was the man that seized on me as I was innocently going along the
+street, and you are a witness of the violence with me since; give me leave to
+charge you with him, and carry him before the justice.&rdquo; &ldquo;Yes,
+madam,&rdquo; says the constable; and turning to the fellow &ldquo;Come, young
+gentleman,&rdquo; says he to the journeyman, &ldquo;you must go along with us;
+I hope you are not above the constable&rsquo;s power, though your master
+is.&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+The fellow looked like a condemned thief, and hung back, then looked at his
+master, as if he could help him; and he, like a fool, encourage the fellow to
+be rude, and he truly resisted the constable, and pushed him back with a good
+force when he went to lay hold on him, at which the constable knocked him down,
+and called out for help; and immediately the shop was filled with people, and
+the constable seized the master and man, and all his servants.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+This first ill consequence of this fray was, that the woman they had taken, who
+was really the thief, made off, and got clear away in the crowd; and two other
+that they had stopped also; whether they were really guilty or not, that I can
+say nothing to.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+By this time some of his neighbours having come in, and, upon inquiry, seeing
+how things went, had endeavoured to bring the hot-brained mercer to his senses,
+and he began to be convinced that he was in the wrong; and so at length we went
+all very quietly before the justice, with a mob of about five hundred people at
+our heels; and all the way I went I could hear the people ask what was the
+matter, and other reply and say, a mercer had stopped a gentlewoman instead of
+a thief, and had afterwards taken the thief, and now the gentlewoman had taken
+the mercer, and was carrying him before the justice. This pleased the people
+strangely, and made the crowd increase, and they cried out as they went,
+&ldquo;Which is the rogue? which is the mercer?&rdquo; and especially the
+women. Then when they saw him they cried out, &ldquo;That&rsquo;s he,
+that&rsquo;s he&rdquo;; and every now and then came a good dab of dirt at him;
+and thus we marched a good while, till the mercer thought fit to desire the
+constable to call a coach to protect himself from the rabble; so we rode the
+rest of the way, the constable and I, and the mercer and his man.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+When we came to the justice, which was an ancient gentleman in Bloomsbury, the
+constable giving first a summary account of the matter, the justice bade me
+speak, and tell what I had to say. And first he asked my name, which I was very
+loth to give, but there was no remedy, so I told him my name was Mary Flanders,
+that I was a widow, my husband being a sea captain, died on a voyage to
+Virginia; and some other circumstances I told which he could never contradict,
+and that I lodged at present in town with such a person, naming my governess;
+but that I was preparing to go over to America, where my husband&rsquo;s
+effects lay, and that I was going that day to buy some clothes to put myself
+into second mourning, but had not yet been in any shop, when that fellow,
+pointing to the mercer&rsquo;s journeyman, came rushing upon me with such fury
+as very much frighted me, and carried me back to his master&rsquo;s shop,
+where, though his master acknowledged I was not the person, yet he would not
+dismiss me, but charged a constable with me.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Then I proceeded to tell how the journeyman treated me; how they would not
+suffer me to send for any of my friends; how afterwards they found the real
+thief, and took the very goods they had lost upon her, and all the particulars
+as before.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Then the constable related his case: his dialogue with the mercer about
+discharging me, and at last his servant&rsquo;s refusing to go with him, when
+he had charged him with him, and his master encouraging him to do so, and at
+last his striking the constable, and the like, all as I have told it already.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+The justice then heard the mercer and his man. The mercer indeed made a long
+harangue of the great loss they have daily by lifters and thieves; that it was
+easy for them to mistake, and that when he found it he would have dismissed me,
+etc., as above. As to the journeyman, he had very little to say, but that he
+pretended other of the servants told him that I was really the person.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Upon the whole, the justice first of all told me very courteously I was
+discharged; that he was very sorry that the mercer&rsquo;s man should in his
+eager pursuit have so little discretion as to take up an innocent person for a
+guilty person; that if he had not been so unjust as to detain me afterward, he
+believed I would have forgiven the first affront; that, however, it was not in
+his power to award me any reparation for anything, other than by openly
+reproving them, which he should do; but he supposed I would apply to such
+methods as the law directed; in the meantime he would bind him over.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+But as to the breach of the peace committed by the journeyman, he told me he
+should give me some satisfaction for that, for he should commit him to Newgate
+for assaulting the constable, and for assaulting me also.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Accordingly he sent the fellow to Newgate for that assault, and his master gave
+bail, and so we came away; but I had the satisfaction of seeing the mob wait
+upon them both, as they came out, hallooing and throwing stones and dirt at the
+coaches they rode in; and so I came home to my governess.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+After this hustle, coming home and telling my governess the story, she falls
+a-laughing at me. &ldquo;Why are you merry?&rdquo; says I; &ldquo;the story has
+not so much laughing room in it as you imagine; I am sure I have had a great
+deal of hurry and fright too, with a pack of ugly rogues.&rdquo;
+&ldquo;Laugh!&rdquo; says my governess; &ldquo;I laugh, child, to see what a
+lucky creature you are; why, this job will be the best bargain to you that ever
+you made in your life, if you manage it well. I warrant you,&rdquo; says she,
+&ldquo;you shall make the mercer pay you &pound;500 for damages, besides what
+you shall get out of the journeyman.&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+I had other thoughts of the matter than she had; and especially, because I had
+given in my name to the justice of peace; and I knew that my name was so well
+known among the people at Hick&rsquo;s Hall, the Old Bailey, and such places,
+that if this cause came to be tried openly, and my name came to be inquired
+into, no court would give much damages, for the reputation of a person of such
+a character. However, I was obliged to begin a prosecution in form, and
+accordingly my governess found me out a very creditable sort of a man to manage
+it, being an attorney of very good business, and of a good reputation, and she
+was certainly in the right of this; for had she employed a pettifogging hedge
+solicitor, or a man not known, and not in good reputation, I should have
+brought it to but little.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+I met this attorney, and gave him all the particulars at large, as they are
+recited above; and he assured me it was a case, as he said, that would very
+well support itself, and that he did not question but that a jury would give
+very considerable damages on such an occasion; so taking his full instructions
+he began the prosecution, and the mercer being arrested, gave bail. A few days
+after his giving bail, he comes with his attorney to my attorney, to let him
+know that he desired to accommodate the matter; that it was all carried on in
+the heat of an unhappy passion; that his client, meaning me, had a sharp
+provoking tongue, that I used them ill, gibing at them, and jeering them, even
+while they believed me to be the very person, and that I had provoked them, and
+the like.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+My attorney managed as well on my side; made them believe I was a widow of
+fortune, that I was able to do myself justice, and had great friends to stand
+by me too, who had all made me promise to sue to the utmost, and that if it
+cost me a thousand pounds I would be sure to have satisfaction, for that the
+affronts I had received were insufferable.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+However, they brought my attorney to this, that he promised he would not blow
+the coals, that if I inclined to accommodation, he would not hinder me, and
+that he would rather persuade me to peace than to war; for which they told him
+he should be no loser; all which he told me very honestly, and told me that if
+they offered him any bribe, I should certainly know it; but upon the whole he
+told me very honestly that if I would take his opinion, he would advise me to
+make it up with them, for that as they were in a great fright, and were
+desirous above all things to make it up, and knew that, let it be what it
+would, they would be allotted to bear all the costs of the suit; he believed
+they would give me freely more than any jury or court of justice would give
+upon a trial. I asked him what he thought they would be brought to. He told me
+he could not tell as to that, but he would tell me more when I saw him again.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Some time after this, they came again to know if he had talked with me. He told
+them he had; that he found me not so averse to an accommodation as some of my
+friends were, who resented the disgrace offered me, and set me on; that they
+blowed the coals in secret, prompting me to revenge, or do myself justice, as
+they called it; so that he could not tell what to say to it; he told them he
+would do his endeavour to persuade me, but he ought to be able to tell me what
+proposal they made. They pretended they could not make any proposal, because it
+might be made use of against them; and he told them, that by the same rule he
+could not make any offers, for that might be pleaded in abatement of what
+damages a jury might be inclined to give. However, after some discourse and
+mutual promises that no advantage should be taken on either side, by what was
+transacted then or at any other of those meetings, they came to a kind of a
+treaty; but so remote, and so wide from one another, that nothing could be
+expected from it; for my attorney demanded &pound;500 and charges, and they
+offered &pound;50 without charges; so they broke off, and the mercer proposed
+to have a meeting with me myself; and my attorney agreed to that very readily.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+My attorney gave me notice to come to this meeting in good clothes, and with
+some state, that the mercer might see I was something more than I seemed to be
+that time they had me. Accordingly I came in a new suit of second mourning,
+according to what I had said at the justice&rsquo;s. I set myself out, too, as
+well as a widow&rsquo;s dress in second mourning would admit; my governess also
+furnished me with a good pearl necklace, that shut in behind with a locket of
+diamonds, which she had in pawn; and I had a very good figure; and as I stayed
+till I was sure they were come, I came in a coach to the door, with my maid
+with me.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+When I came into the room the mercer was surprised. He stood up and made his
+bow, which I took a little notice of, and but a little, and went and sat down
+where my own attorney had pointed to me to sit, for it was his house. After a
+little while the mercer said, he did not know me again, and began to make some
+compliments his way. I told him, I believed he did not know me at first, and
+that if he had, I believed he would not have treated me as he did.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+He told me he was very sorry for what had happened, and that it was to testify
+the willingness he had to make all possible reparation that he had appointed
+this meeting; that he hoped I would not carry things to extremity, which might
+be not only too great a loss to him, but might be the ruin of his business and
+shop, in which case I might have the satisfaction of repaying an injury with an
+injury ten times greater; but that I would then get nothing, whereas he was
+willing to do me any justice that was in his power, without putting himself or
+me to the trouble or charge of a suit at law.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+I told him I was glad to hear him talk so much more like a man of sense than he
+did before; that it was true, acknowledgment in most cases of affronts was
+counted reparation sufficient; but this had gone too far to be made up so; that
+I was not revengeful, nor did I seek his ruin, or any man&rsquo;s else, but
+that all my friends were unanimous not to let me so far neglect my character as
+to adjust a thing of this kind without a sufficient reparation of honour; that
+to be taken up for a thief was such an indignity as could not be put up; that
+my character was above being treated so by any that knew me, but because in my
+condition of a widow I had been for some time careless of myself, and negligent
+of myself, I might be taken for such a creature, but that for the particular
+usage I had from him afterwards,&mdash;and then I repeated all as before; it
+was so provoking I had scarce patience to repeat it.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Well, he acknowledged all, and was might humble indeed; he made proposals very
+handsome; he came up to &pound;100 and to pay all the law charges, and added
+that he would make me a present of a very good suit of clothes. I came down to
+&pound;300, and I demanded that I should publish an advertisement of the
+particulars in the common newspapers.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+This was a clause he never could comply with. However, at last he came up, by
+good management of my attorney, to &pound;150 and a suit of black silk clothes;
+and there I agree, and as it were, at my attorney&rsquo;s request, complied
+with it, he paying my attorney&rsquo;s bill and charges, and gave us a good
+supper into the bargain.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+When I came to receive the money, I brought my governess with me, dressed like
+an old duchess, and a gentleman very well dressed, who we pretended courted me,
+but I called him cousin, and the lawyer was only to hint privately to him that
+his gentleman courted the widow.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+He treated us handsomely indeed, and paid the money cheerfully enough; so that
+it cost him &pound;200 in all, or rather more. At our last meeting, when all
+was agreed, the case of the journeyman came up, and the mercer begged very hard
+for him; told me he was a man that had kept a shop of his own, and been in good
+business, had a wife, and several children, and was very poor; that he had
+nothing to make satisfaction with, but he should come to beg my pardon on his
+knees, if I desired it, as openly as I pleased. I had no spleen at the saucy
+rogue, nor were his submissions anything to me, since there was nothing to be
+got by him, so I thought it was as good to throw that in generously as not; so
+I told him I did not desire the ruin of any man, and therefore at his request I
+would forgive the wretch; it was below me to seek any revenge.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+When we were at supper he brought the poor fellow in to make acknowledgment,
+which he would have done with as much mean humility as his offence was with
+insulting haughtiness and pride, in which he was an instance of a complete
+baseness of spirit, impious, cruel, and relentless when uppermost and in
+prosperity, abject and low-spirited when down in affliction. However, I abated
+his cringes, told him I forgave him, and desired he might withdraw, as if I did
+not care for the sight of him, though I had forgiven him.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+I was now in good circumstances indeed, if I could have known my time for
+leaving off, and my governess often said I was the richest of the trade in
+England; and so I believe I was, for I had &pound;700 by me in money, besides
+clothes, rings, some plate, and two gold watches, and all of them stolen, for I
+had innumerable jobs besides these I have mentioned. Oh! had I even now had the
+grace of repentance, I had still leisure to have looked back upon my follies,
+and have made some reparation; but the satisfaction I was to make for the
+public mischiefs I had done was yet left behind; and I could not forbear going
+abroad again, as I called it now, than any more I could when my extremity
+really drove me out for bread.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+It was not long after the affair with the mercer was made up, that I went out
+in an equipage quite different from any I had ever appeared in before. I
+dressed myself like a beggar woman, in the coarsest and most despicable rags I
+could get, and I walked about peering and peeping into every door and window I
+came near; and indeed I was in such a plight now that I knew as ill how to
+behave in as ever I did in any. I naturally abhorred dirt and rags; I had been
+bred up tight and cleanly, and could be no other, whatever condition I was in;
+so that this was the most uneasy disguise to me that ever I put on. I said
+presently to myself that this would not do, for this was a dress that everybody
+was shy and afraid of; and I thought everybody looked at me, as if they were
+afraid I should come near them, lest I should take something from them, or
+afraid to come near me, lest they should get something from me. I wandered
+about all the evening the first time I went out, and made nothing of it, but
+came home again wet, draggled, and tired. However, I went out again the next
+night, and then I met with a little adventure, which had like to have cost me
+dear. As I was standing near a tavern door, there comes a gentleman on
+horseback, and lights at the door, and wanting to go into the tavern, he calls
+one of the drawers to hold his horse. He stayed pretty long in the tavern, and
+the drawer heard his master call, and thought he would be angry with him.
+Seeing me stand by him, he called to me, &ldquo;Here, woman,&rdquo; says he,
+&ldquo;hold this horse a while, till I go in; if the gentleman comes,
+he&rsquo;ll give you something.&rdquo; &ldquo;Yes,&rdquo; says I, and takes the
+horse, and walks off with him very soberly, and carried him to my governess.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+This had been a booty to those that had understood it; but never was poor thief
+more at a loss to know what to do with anything that was stolen; for when I
+came home, my governess was quite confounded, and what to do with the creature,
+we neither of us knew. To send him to a stable was doing nothing, for it was
+certain that public notice would be given in the <i>Gazette</i>, and the horse
+described, so that we durst not go to fetch it again.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+All the remedy we had for this unlucky adventure was to go and set up the horse
+at an inn, and send a note by a porter to the tavern, that the
+gentleman&rsquo;s horse that was lost such a time was left at such an inn, and
+that he might be had there; that the poor woman that held him, having led him
+about the street, not being able to lead him back again, had left him there. We
+might have waited till the owner had published and offered a reward, but we did
+not care to venture the receiving the reward.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+So this was a robbery and no robbery, for little was lost by it, and nothing
+was got by it, and I was quite sick of going out in a beggar&rsquo;s dress; it
+did not answer at all, and besides, I thought it was ominous and threatening.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+While I was in this disguise, I fell in with a parcel of folks of a worse kind
+than any I ever sorted with, and I saw a little into their ways too. These were
+coiners of money, and they made some very good offers to me, as to profit; but
+the part they would have had me have embarked in was the most dangerous part. I
+mean that of the very working the die, as they call it, which, had I been
+taken, had been certain death, and that at a stake&mdash;I say, to be burnt to
+death at a stake; so that though I was to appearance but a beggar, and they
+promised mountains of gold and silver to me to engage, yet it would not do. It
+is true, if I had been really a beggar, or had been desperate as when I began,
+I might perhaps have closed with it; for what care they to die that can&rsquo;t
+tell how to live? But at present this was not my condition, at least I was for
+no such terrible risks as those; besides, the very thoughts of being burnt at a
+stake struck terror into my very soul, chilled my blood, and gave me the
+vapours to such a degree, as I could not think of it without trembling.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+This put an end to my disguise too, for as I did not like the proposal, so I
+did not tell them so, but seemed to relish it, and promised to meet again. But
+I durst see them no more; for if I had seen them, and not complied, though I
+had declined it with the greatest assurance of secrecy in the world, they would
+have gone near to have murdered me, to make sure work, and make themselves
+easy, as they call it. What kind of easiness that is, they may best judge that
+understand how easy men are that can murder people to prevent danger.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+This and horse-stealing were things quite out of my way, and I might easily
+resolve I would have to more to say to them; my business seemed to lie another
+way, and though it had hazard enough in it too, yet it was more suitable to me,
+and what had more of art in it, and more room to escape, and more chances for
+a-coming off if a surprise should happen.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+I had several proposals made also to me about that time, to come into a gang of
+house-breakers; but that was a thing I had no mind to venture at neither, any
+more than I had at the coining trade. I offered to go along with two men and a
+woman, that made it their business to get into houses by stratagem, and with
+them I was willing enough to venture. But there were three of them already, and
+they did not care to part, nor I to have too many in a gang, so I did not close
+with them, but declined them, and they paid dear for their next attempt.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+But at length I met with a woman that had often told me what adventures she had
+made, and with success, at the waterside, and I closed with her, and we drove
+on our business pretty well. One day we came among some Dutch people at St.
+Catherine&rsquo;s, where we went on pretence to buy goods that were privately
+got on shore. I was two or three times in a house where we saw a good quantity
+of prohibited goods, and my companion once brought away three pieces of Dutch
+black silk that turned to good account, and I had my share of it; but in all
+the journeys I made by myself, I could not get an opportunity to do anything,
+so I laid it aside, for I had been so often, that they began to suspect
+something, and were so shy, that I saw nothing was to be done.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+This baulked me a little, and I resolved to push at something or other, for I
+was not used to come back so often without purchase; so the next day I dressed
+myself up fine, and took a walk to the other end of the town. I passed through
+the Exchange in the Strand, but had no notion of finding anything to do there,
+when on a sudden I saw a great cluttering in the place, and all the people,
+shopkeepers as well as others, standing up and staring; and what should it be
+but some great duchess come into the Exchange, and they said the queen was
+coming. I set myself close up to a shop-side with my back to the counter, as if
+to let the crowd pass by, when keeping my eye upon a parcel of lace which the
+shopkeeper was showing to some ladies that stood by me, the shopkeeper and her
+maid were so taken up with looking to see who was coming, and what shop they
+would go to, that I found means to slip a paper of lace into my pocket and come
+clear off with it; so the lady-milliner paid dear enough for her gaping after
+the queen.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+I went off from the shop, as if driven along by the throng, and mingling myself
+with the crowd, went out at the other door of the Exchange, and so got away
+before they missed their lace; and because I would not be followed, I called a
+coach and shut myself up in it. I had scarce shut the coach doors up, but I saw
+the milliner&rsquo;s maid and five or six more come running out into the
+street, and crying out as if they were frightened. They did not cry &ldquo;Stop
+thief!&rdquo; because nobody ran away, but I could hear the word
+&ldquo;robbed,&rdquo; and &ldquo;lace,&rdquo; two or three times, and saw the
+wench wringing her hands, and run staring to and again, like one scared. The
+coachman that had taken me up was getting up into the box, but was not quite
+up, so that the horse had not begun to move; so that I was terrible uneasy, and
+I took the packet of lace and laid it ready to have dropped it out at the flap
+of the coach, which opens before, just behind the coachman; but to my great
+satisfaction, in less than a minute the coach began to move, that is to say, as
+soon as the coachman had got up and spoken to his horses; so he drove away
+without any interruption, and I brought off my purchase, which was worth near
+&pound;20.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+The next day I dressed up again, but in quite different clothes, and walked the
+same way again, but nothing offered till I came into St. James&rsquo;s Park,
+where I saw abundance of fine ladies in the Park, walking in the Mall, and
+among the rest there was a little miss, a young lady of about twelve or
+thirteen years old, and she had a sister, as I suppose it was, with her, that
+might be about nine years old. I observed the biggest had a fine gold watch on,
+and a good necklace of pearl, and they had a footman in livery with them; but
+as it is not usual for the footman to go behind the ladies in the Mall, so I
+observed the footman stopped at their going into the Mall, and the biggest of
+the sisters spoke to him, which I perceived was to bid him be just there when
+they came back.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+When I heard her dismiss the footman, I stepped up to him and asked him, what
+little lady that was? and held a little chat with him about what a pretty child
+it was with her, and how genteel and well-carriaged the lady, the eldest, would
+be: how womanish, and how grave; and the fool of a fellow told me presently who
+she was; that she was Sir Thomas &mdash;&mdash;&rsquo;s eldest daughter, of
+Essex, and that she was a great fortune; that her mother was not come to town
+yet; but she was with Sir William &mdash;&mdash;&rsquo;s lady, of Suffolk, at
+her lodging in Suffolk Street, and a great deal more; that they had a maid and
+a woman to wait on them, besides Sir Thomas&rsquo;s coach, the coachman, and
+himself; and that young lady was governess to the whole family, as well here as
+at home too; and, in short, told me abundance of things enough for my business.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+I was very well dressed, and had my gold watch as well as she; so I left the
+footman, and I puts myself in a rank with this young lady, having stayed till
+she had taken one double turn in the Mall, and was going forward again; by and
+by I saluted her by her name, with the title of Lady Betty. I asked her when
+she heard from her father; when my lady her mother would be in town, and how
+she did.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+I talked so familiarly to her of her whole family that she could not suspect
+but that I knew them all intimately. I asked her why she would come abroad
+without Mrs. Chime with her (that was the name of her woman) to take of Mrs.
+Judith, that was her sister. Then I entered into a long chat with her about her
+sister, what a fine little lady she was, and asked her if she had learned
+French, and a thousand such little things to entertain her, when on a sudden we
+saw the guards come, and the crowd ran to see the king go by to the Parliament
+House.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+The ladies ran all to the side of the Mall, and I helped my lady to stand upon
+the edge of the boards on the side of the Mall, that she might be high enough
+to see; and took the little one and lifted her quite up; during which, I took
+care to convey the gold watch so clean away from the Lady Betty, that she never
+felt it, nor missed it, till all the crowd was gone, and she was gotten into
+the middle of the Mall among the other ladies.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+I took my leave of her in the very crowd, and said to her, as if in haste,
+&ldquo;Dear Lady Betty, take care of your little sister.&rdquo; And so the
+crowd did as it were thrust me away from her, and that I was obliged
+unwillingly to take my leave.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+The hurry in such cases is immediately over, and the place clear as soon as the
+king is gone by; but as there is always a great running and clutter just as the
+king passes, so having dropped the two little ladies, and done my business with
+them without any miscarriage, I kept hurrying on among the crowd, as if I ran
+to see the king, and so I got before the crowd and kept so till I came to the
+end of the Mall, when the king going on towards the Horse Guards, I went
+forward to the passage, which went then through against the lower end of the
+Haymarket, and there I bestowed a coach upon myself, and made off, and I
+confess I have not yet been so good as my word, viz. to go and visit my Lady
+Betty.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+I was once of the mind to venture staying with Lady Betty till she missed the
+watch, and so have made a great outcry about it with her, and have got her into
+the coach, and put myself in the coach with her, and have gone home with her;
+for she appeared so fond of me, and so perfectly deceived by my so readily
+talking to her of all her relations and family, that I thought it was very easy
+to push the thing farther, and to have got at least the necklace of pearl; but
+when I considered that though the child would not perhaps have suspected me,
+other people might, and that if I was searched I should be discovered, I
+thought it was best to go off with what I had got, and be satisfied.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+I came accidentally afterwards to hear, that when the young lady missed her
+watch, she made a great outcry in the Park, and sent her footman up and down to
+see if he could find me out, she having described me so perfectly that he knew
+presently that it was the same person that had stood and talked so long with
+him, and asked him so many questions about them; but I gone far enough out of
+their reach before she could come at her footman to tell him the story.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+I made another adventure after this, of a nature different from all I had been
+concerned in yet, and this was at a gaming-house near Covent Garden.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+I saw several people go in and out; and I stood in the passage a good while
+with another woman with me, and seeing a gentleman go up that seemed to be of
+more than ordinary fashion, I said to him, &ldquo;Sir, pray don&rsquo;t they
+give women leave to go up?&rdquo; &ldquo;Yes, madam,&rdquo; says he, &ldquo;and
+to play too, if they please.&rdquo; &ldquo;I mean so, sir,&rdquo; said I. And
+with that he said he would introduce me if I had a mind; so I followed him to
+the door, and he looking in, &ldquo;There, madam,&rdquo; says he, &ldquo;are
+the gamesters, if you have a mind to venture.&rdquo; I looked in and said to my
+comrade aloud, &ldquo;Here&rsquo;s nothing but men; I won&rsquo;t venture among
+them.&rdquo; At which one of the gentlemen cried out, &ldquo;You need not be
+afraid, madam, here&rsquo;s none but fair gamesters; you are very welcome to
+come and set what you please.&rdquo; So I went a little nearer and looked on,
+and some of them brought me a chair, and I sat down and saw the box and dice go
+round apace; then I said to my comrade, &ldquo;The gentlemen play too high for
+us; come, let us go.&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+The people were all very civil, and one gentleman in particular encouraged me,
+and said, &ldquo;Come, madam, if you please to venture, if you dare trust me,
+I&rsquo;ll answer for it you shall have nothing put upon you here.&rdquo;
+&ldquo;No, sir,&rdquo; said I, smiling, &ldquo;I hope the gentlemen would not
+cheat a woman.&rdquo; But still I declined venturing, though I pulled out a
+purse with money in it, that they might see I did not want money.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+After I had sat a while, one gentleman said to me, jeering, &ldquo;Come, madam,
+I see you are afraid to venture for yourself; I always had good luck with the
+ladies, you shall set for me, if you won&rsquo;t set for yourself.&rdquo; I
+told him, &ldquo;Sir, I should be very loth to lose your money,&rdquo; though I
+added, &ldquo;I am pretty lucky too; but the gentlemen play so high, that I
+dare not indeed venture my own.&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;Well, well,&rdquo; says he, &ldquo;there&rsquo;s ten guineas, madam; set
+them for me.&rdquo; So I took his money and set, himself looking on. I ran out
+nine of the guineas by one and two at a time, and then the box coming to the
+next man to me, my gentleman gave me ten guineas more, and made me set five of
+them at once, and the gentleman who had the box threw out, so there was five
+guineas of his money again. He was encouraged at this, and made me take the
+box, which was a bold venture. However, I held the box so long that I had
+gained him his whole money, and had a good handful of guineas in my lap, and
+which was the better luck, when I threw out, I threw but at one or two of those
+that had set me, and so went off easy.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+When I was come this length, I offered the gentleman all the gold, for it was
+his own; and so would have had him play for himself, pretending I did not
+understand the game well enough. He laughed, and said if I had but good luck,
+it was no matter whether I understood the game or no; but I should not leave
+off. However, he took out the fifteen guineas that he had put in at first, and
+bade me play with the rest. I would have told them to see how much I had got,
+but he said, &ldquo;No, no, don&rsquo;t tell them, I believe you are very
+honest, and &rsquo;tis bad luck to tell them&rdquo;; so I played on.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+I understood the game well enough, though I pretended I did not, and played
+cautiously. It was to keep a good stock in my lap, out of which I every now and
+then conveyed some into my pocket, but in such a manner, and at such convenient
+times, as I was sure he could not see it.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+I played a great while, and had very good luck for him; but the last time I
+held the box, they set me high, and I threw boldly at all; I held the box till
+I gained near fourscore guineas, but lost above half of it back in the last
+throw; so I got up, for I was afraid I should lose it all back again, and said
+to him, &ldquo;Pray come, sir, now, and take it and play for yourself; I think
+I have done pretty well for you.&rdquo; He would have had me play on, but it
+grew late, and I desired to be excused. When I gave it up to him, I told him I
+hoped he would give me leave to tell it now, that I might see what I had
+gained, and how lucky I had been for him; when I told them, there were
+threescore and three guineas. &ldquo;Ay,&rdquo; says I, &ldquo;if it had not
+been for that unlucky throw, I had got you a hundred guineas.&rdquo; So I gave
+him all the money, but he would not take it till I had put my hand into it, and
+taken some for myself, and bid me please myself. I refused it, and was positive
+I would not take it myself; if he had a mind to anything of that kind, it
+should be all his own doings.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+The rest of the gentlemen seeing us striving cried, &ldquo;Give it her
+all&rdquo;; but I absolutely refused that. Then one of them said,
+&ldquo;D&mdash;n ye, Jack, halve it with her; don&rsquo;t you know you should
+be always upon even terms with the ladies.&rdquo; So, in short, he divided it
+with me, and I brought away thirty guineas, besides about forty-three which I
+had stole privately, which I was sorry for afterward, because he was so
+generous.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Thus I brought home seventy-three guineas, and let my old governess see what
+good luck I had at play. However, it was her advice that I should not venture
+again, and I took her counsel, for I never went there any more; for I knew as
+well as she, if the itch of play came in, I might soon lose that, and all the
+rest of what I had got.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Fortune had smiled upon me to that degree, and I had thriven so much, and my
+governess too, for she always had a share with me, that really the old
+gentlewoman began to talk of leaving off while we were well, and being
+satisfied with what we had got; but, I know not what fate guided me, I was as
+backward to it now as she was when I proposed it to her before, and so in an
+ill hour we gave over the thoughts of it for the present, and, in a word, I
+grew more hardened and audacious than ever, and the success I had made my name
+as famous as any thief of my sort ever had been at Newgate, and in the Old
+Bailey.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+I had sometime taken the liberty to play the same game over again, which is not
+according to practice, which however succeeded not amiss; but generally I took
+up new figures, and contrived to appear in new shapes every time I went abroad.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+It was not a rumbling time of the year, and the gentlemen being most of them
+gone out of town, Tunbridge, and Epsom, and such places were full of people.
+But the city was thin, and I thought our trade felt it a little, as well as
+other; so that at the latter end of the year I joined myself with a gang who
+usually go every year to Stourbridge Fair, and from thence to Bury Fair, in
+Suffolk. We promised ourselves great things there, but when I came to see how
+things were, I was weary of it presently; for except mere picking of pockets,
+there was little worth meddling with; neither, if a booty had been made, was it
+so easy carrying it off, nor was there such a variety of occasion for business
+in our way, as in London; all that I made of the whole journey was a gold watch
+at Bury Fair, and a small parcel of linen at Cambridge, which gave me an
+occasion to take leave of the place. It was on old bite, and I thought might do
+with a country shopkeeper, though in London it would not.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+I bought at a linen-draper&rsquo;s shop, not in the fair, but in the town of
+Cambridge, as much fine holland and other things as came to about seven pounds;
+when I had done, I bade them be sent to such an inn, where I had purposely
+taken up my being the same morning, as if I was to lodge there that night.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+I ordered the draper to send them home to me, about such an hour, to the inn
+where I lay, and I would pay him his money. At the time appointed the draper
+sends the goods, and I placed one of our gang at the chamber door, and when the
+innkeeper&rsquo;s maid brought the messenger to the door, who was a young
+fellow, an apprentice, almost a man, she tells him her mistress was asleep, but
+if he would leave the things and call in about an hour, I should be awake, and
+he might have the money. He left the parcel very readily, and goes his way, and
+in about half an hour my maid and I walked off, and that very evening I hired a
+horse, and a man to ride before me, and went to Newmarket, and from thence got
+my passage in a coach that was not quite full to St. Edmund&rsquo;s Bury,
+where, as I told you, I could make but little of my trade, only at a little
+country opera-house made a shift to carry off a gold watch from a lady&rsquo;s
+side, who was not only intolerably merry, but, as I thought, a little fuddled,
+which made my work much easier.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+I made off with this little booty to Ipswich, and from thence to Harwich, where
+I went into an inn, as if I had newly arrived from Holland, not doubting but I
+should make some purchase among the foreigners that came on shore there; but I
+found them generally empty of things of value, except what was in their
+portmanteaux and Dutch hampers, which were generally guarded by footmen;
+however, I fairly got one of their portmanteaux one evening out of the chamber
+where the gentleman lay, the footman being fast asleep on the bed, and I
+suppose very drunk.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+The room in which I lodged lay next to the Dutchman&rsquo;s, and having dragged
+the heavy thing with much ado out of the chamber into mine, I went out into the
+street, to see if I could find any possibility of carrying it off. I walked
+about a great while, but could see no probability either of getting out the
+thing, or of conveying away the goods that were in it if I had opened it, the
+town being so small, and I a perfect stranger in it; so I was returning with a
+resolution to carry it back again, and leave it where I found it. Just in that
+very moment I heard a man make a noise to some people to make haste, for the
+boat was going to put off, and the tide would be spent. I called to the fellow,
+&ldquo;What boat is it, friend,&rdquo; says I, &ldquo;that you belong
+to?&rdquo; &ldquo;The Ipswich wherry, madam,&rdquo; says he. &ldquo;When do you
+go off?&rdquo; says I. &ldquo;This moment, madam,&rdquo; says he; &ldquo;do you
+want to go thither?&rdquo; &ldquo;Yes,&rdquo; said I, &ldquo;if you can stay
+till I fetch my things.&rdquo; &ldquo;Where are your things, madam?&rdquo; says
+he. &ldquo;At such an inn,&rdquo; said I. &ldquo;Well, I&rsquo;ll go with you,
+madam,&rdquo; says he, very civilly, &ldquo;and bring them for you.&rdquo;
+&ldquo;Come away, then,&rdquo; says I, and takes him with me.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+The people of the inn were in a great hurry, the packet-boat from Holland being
+just come in, and two coaches just come also with passengers from London, for
+another packet-boat that was going off for Holland, which coaches were to go
+back next day with the passengers that were just landed. In this hurry it was
+not much minded that I came to the bar and paid my reckoning, telling my
+landlady I had gotten my passage by sea in a wherry.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+These wherries are large vessels, with good accommodation for carrying
+passengers from Harwich to London; and though they are called wherries, which
+is a word used in the Thames for a small boat rowed with one or two men, yet
+these are vessels able to carry twenty passengers, and ten or fifteen tons of
+goods, and fitted to bear the sea. All this I had found out by inquiring the
+night before into the several ways of going to London.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+My landlady was very courteous, took my money for my reckoning, but was called
+away, all the house being in a hurry. So I left her, took the fellow up to my
+chamber, gave him the trunk, or portmanteau, for it was like a trunk, and
+wrapped it about with an old apron, and he went directly to his boat with it,
+and I after him, nobody asking us the least question about it; as for the
+drunken Dutch footman he was still asleep, and his master with other foreign
+gentlemen at supper, and very merry below, so I went clean off with it to
+Ipswich; and going in the night, the people of the house knew nothing but that
+I was gone to London by the Harwich wherry, as I had told my landlady.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+I was plagued at Ipswich with the custom-house officers, who stopped my trunk,
+as I called it, and would open and search it. I was willing, I told them, they
+should search it, but husband had the key, and he was not yet come from
+Harwich; this I said, that if upon searching it they should find all the things
+be such as properly belonged to a man rather than a woman, it should not seem
+strange to them. However, they being positive to open the trunk I consented to
+have it be broken open, that is to say, to have the lock taken off, which was
+not difficult.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+They found nothing for their turn, for the trunk had been searched before, but
+they discovered several things very much to my satisfaction, as particularly a
+parcel of money in French pistoles, and some Dutch ducatoons or rix-dollars,
+and the rest was chiefly two periwigs, wearing-linen, and razors, wash-balls,
+perfumes, and other useful things necessary for a gentleman, which all passed
+for my husband&rsquo;s, and so I was quit to them.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+It was now very early in the morning, and not light, and I knew not well what
+course to take; for I made no doubt but I should be pursued in the morning, and
+perhaps be taken with the things about me; so I resolved upon taking new
+measures. I went publicly to an inn in the town with my trunk, as I called it,
+and having taken the substance out, I did not think the lumber of it worth my
+concern; however, I gave it the landlady of the house with a charge to take
+great care of it, and lay it up safe till I should come again, and away I
+walked in to the street.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+When I was got into the town a great way from the inn, I met with an ancient
+woman who had just opened her door, and I fell into chat with her, and asked
+her a great many wild questions of things all remote to my purpose and design;
+but in my discourse I found by her how the town was situated, that I was in a
+street that went out towards Hadley, but that such a street went towards the
+water-side, such a street towards Colchester, and so the London road lay there.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+I had soon my ends of this old woman, for I only wanted to know which was the
+London road, and away I walked as fast as I could; not that I intended to go on
+foot, either to London or to Colchester, but I wanted to get quietly away from
+Ipswich.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+I walked about two or three miles, and then I met a plain countryman, who was
+busy about some husbandry work, I did not know what, and I asked him a great
+many questions first, not much to the purpose, but at last told him I was going
+for London, and the coach was full, and I could not get a passage, and asked
+him if he could tell me where to hire a horse that would carry double, and an
+honest man to ride before me to Colchester, that so I might get a place there
+in the coaches. The honest clown looked earnestly at me, and said nothing for
+above half a minute, when, scratching his poll, &ldquo;A horse, say you and to
+Colchester, to carry double? why yes, mistress, alack-a-day, you may have
+horses enough for money.&rdquo; &ldquo;Well, friend,&rdquo; says I, &ldquo;that
+I take for granted; I don&rsquo;t expect it without money.&rdquo; &ldquo;Why,
+but, mistress,&rdquo; says he, &ldquo;how much are you willing to give?&rdquo;
+&ldquo;Nay,&rdquo; says I again, &ldquo;friend, I don&rsquo;t know what your
+rates are in the country here, for I am a stranger; but if you can get one for
+me, get it as cheap as you can, and I&rsquo;ll give you somewhat for your
+pains.&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;Why, that&rsquo;s honestly said too,&rdquo; says the countryman.
+&ldquo;Not so honest, neither,&rdquo; said I to myself, &ldquo;if thou knewest
+all.&rdquo; &ldquo;Why, mistress,&rdquo; says he, &ldquo;I have a horse that
+will carry double, and I don&rsquo;t much care if I go myself with you,&rdquo;
+and the like. &ldquo;Will you?&rdquo; says I; &ldquo;well, I believe you are an
+honest man; if you will, I shall be glad of it; I&rsquo;ll pay you in
+reason.&rdquo; &ldquo;Why, look ye, mistress,&rdquo; says he, &ldquo;I
+won&rsquo;t be out of reason with you, then; if I carry you to Colchester, it
+will be worth five shillings for myself and my horse, for I shall hardly come
+back to-night.&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+In short, I hired the honest man and his horse; but when we came to a town upon
+the road (I do not remember the name of it, but it stands upon a river), I
+pretended myself very ill, and I could go no farther that night but if he would
+stay there with me, because I was a stranger, I would pay him for himself and
+his horse with all my heart.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+This I did because I knew the Dutch gentlemen and their servants would be upon
+the road that day, either in the stagecoaches or riding post, and I did not
+know but the drunken fellow, or somebody else that might have seen me at
+Harwich, might see me again, and so I thought that in one day&rsquo;s stop they
+would be all gone by.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+We lay all that night there, and the next morning it was not very early when I
+set out, so that it was near ten o&rsquo;clock by the time I got to Colchester.
+It was no little pleasure that I saw the town where I had so many pleasant
+days, and I made many inquiries after the good old friends I had once had
+there, but could make little out; they were all dead or removed. The young
+ladies had been all married or gone to London; the old gentleman and the old
+lady that had been my early benefactress all dead; and which troubled me most,
+the young gentleman my first lover, and afterwards my brother-in-law, was dead;
+but two sons, men grown, were left of him, but they too were transplanted to
+London.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+I dismissed my old man here, and stayed incognito for three or four days in
+Colchester, and then took a passage in a waggon, because I would not venture
+being seen in the Harwich coaches. But I needed not have used so much caution,
+for there was nobody in Harwich but the woman of the house could have known me;
+nor was it rational to think that she, considering the hurry she was in, and
+that she never saw me but once, and that by candlelight, should have ever
+discovered me.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+I was now returned to London, and though by the accident of the last adventure
+I got something considerable, yet I was not fond of any more country rambles,
+nor should I have ventured abroad again if I had carried the trade on to the
+end of my days. I gave my governess a history of my travels; she liked the
+Harwich journey well enough, and in discoursing of these things between
+ourselves she observed, that a thief being a creature that watches the
+advantages of other people&rsquo;s mistakes, &rsquo;tis impossible but that to
+one that is vigilant and industrious many opportunities must happen, and
+therefore she thought that one so exquisitely keen in the trade as I was, would
+scarce fail of something extraordinary wherever I went.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+On the other hand, every branch of my story, if duly considered, may be useful
+to honest people, and afford a due caution to people of some sort or other to
+guard against the like surprises, and to have their eyes about them when they
+have to do with strangers of any kind, for &rsquo;tis very seldom that some
+snare or other is not in their way. The moral, indeed, of all my history is
+left to be gathered by the senses and judgment of the reader; I am not
+qualified to preach to them. Let the experience of one creature completely
+wicked, and completely miserable, be a storehouse of useful warning to those
+that read.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+I am drawing now towards a new variety of the scenes of life. Upon my return,
+being hardened by a long race of crime, and success unparalleled, at least in
+the reach of my own knowledge, I had, as I have said, no thoughts of laying
+down a trade which, if I was to judge by the example of other, must, however,
+end at last in misery and sorrow.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+It was on the Christmas day following, in the evening, that, to finish a long
+train of wickedness, I went abroad to see what might offer in my way; when
+going by a working silversmith&rsquo;s in Foster Lane, I saw a tempting bait
+indeed, and not be resisted by one of my occupation, for the shop had nobody in
+it, as I could see, and a great deal of loose plate lay in the window, and at
+the seat of the man, who usually, as I suppose, worked at one side of the shop.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+I went boldly in, and was just going to lay my hand upon a piece of plate, and
+might have done it, and carried it clear off, for any care that the men who
+belonged to the shop had taken of it; but an officious fellow in a house, not a
+shop, on the other side of the way, seeing me go in, and observing that there
+was nobody in the shop, comes running over the street, and into the shop, and
+without asking me what I was, or who, seizes upon me, an cries out for the
+people of the house.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+I had not, as I said above, touched anything in the shop, and seeing a glimpse
+of somebody running over to the shop, I had so much presence of mind as to
+knock very hard with my foot on the floor of the house, and was just calling
+out too, when the fellow laid hands on me.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+However, as I had always most courage when I was in most danger, so when the
+fellow laid hands on me, I stood very high upon it, that I came in to buy half
+a dozen of silver spoons; and to my good fortune, it was a silversmith&rsquo;s
+that sold plate, as well as worked plate for other shops. The fellow laughed at
+that part, and put such a value upon the service that he had done his
+neighbour, that he would have it be that I came not to buy, but to steal; and
+raising a great crowd. I said to the master of the shop, who by this time was
+fetched home from some neighbouring place, that it was in vain to make noise,
+and enter into talk there of the case; the fellow had insisted that I came to
+steal, and he must prove it, and I desired we might go before a magistrate
+without any more words; for I began to see I should be too hard for the man
+that had seized me.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+The master and mistress of the shop were really not so violent as the man from
+t&rsquo;other side of the way; and the man said, &ldquo;Mistress, you might
+come into the shop with a good design for aught I know, but it seemed a
+dangerous thing for you to come into such a shop as mine is, when you see
+nobody there; and I cannot do justice to my neighbour, who was so kind to me,
+as not to acknowledge he had reason on his side; though, upon the whole, I do
+not find you attempted to take anything, and I really know not what to do in
+it.&rdquo; I pressed him to go before a magistrate with me, and if anything
+could be proved on me that was like a design of robbery, I should willingly
+submit, but if not, I expected reparation.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Just while we were in this debate, and a crowd of people gathered about the
+door, came by Sir T. B., an alderman of the city, and justice of the peace, and
+the goldsmith hearing of it, goes out, and entreated his worship to come in and
+decide the case.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Give the goldsmith his due, he told his story with a great deal of justice and
+moderation, and the fellow that had come over, and seized upon me, told his
+with as much heat and foolish passion, which did me good still, rather than
+harm. It came then to my turn to speak, and I told his worship that I was a
+stranger in London, being newly come out of the north; that I lodged in such a
+place, that I was passing this street, and went into the goldsmith&rsquo;s shop
+to buy half a dozen of spoons. By great luck I had an old silver spoon in my
+pocket, which I pulled out, and told him I had carried that spoon to match it
+with half a dozen of new ones, that it might match some I had in the country.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+That seeing nobody I the shop, I knocked with my foot very hard to make the
+people hear, and had also called aloud with my voice; &rsquo;tis true, there
+was loose plate in the shop, but that nobody could say I had touched any of it,
+or gone near it; that a fellow came running into the shop out of the street,
+and laid hands on me in a furious manner, in the very moments while I was
+calling for the people of the house; that if he had really had a mind to have
+done his neighbour any service, he should have stood at a distance, and
+silently watched to see whether I had touched anything or no, and then have
+clapped in upon me, and taken me in the fact. &ldquo;That is very true,&rdquo;
+says Mr. Alderman, and turning to the fellow that stopped me, he asked him if
+it was true that I knocked with my foot? He said, yes, I had knocked, but that
+might be because of his coming. &ldquo;Nay,&rdquo; says the alderman, taking
+him short, &ldquo;now you contradict yourself, for just now you said she was in
+the shop with her back to you, and did not see you till you came upon
+her.&rdquo; Now it was true that my back was partly to the street, but yet as
+my business was of a kind that required me to have my eyes every way, so I
+really had a glance of him running over, as I said before, though he did not
+perceive it.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+After a full hearing, the alderman gave it as his opinion that his neighbour
+was under a mistake, and that I was innocent, and the goldsmith acquiesced in
+it too, and his wife, and so I was dismissed; but as I was going to depart, Mr.
+Alderman said, &ldquo;But hold, madam, if you were designing to buy spoons, I
+hope you will not let my friend here lose his customer by the mistake.&rdquo; I
+readily answered, &ldquo;No, sir, I&rsquo;ll buy the spoons still, if he can
+match my odd spoon, which I brought for a pattern&rdquo;; and the goldsmith
+showed me some of the very same fashion. So he weighed the spoons, and they
+came to five-and-thirty shillings, so I pulls out my purse to pay him, in which
+I had near twenty guineas, for I never went without such a sum about me,
+whatever might happen, and I found it of use at other times as well as now.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+When Mr. Alderman saw my money, he said, &ldquo;Well, madam, now I am satisfied
+you were wronged, and it was for this reason that I moved you should buy the
+spoons, and stayed till you had bought them, for if you had not had money to
+pay for them, I should have suspected that you did not come into the shop with
+an intent to buy, for indeed the sort of people who come upon these designs
+that you have been charged with, are seldom troubled with much gold in their
+pockets, as I see you are.&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+I smiled, and told his worship, that then I owed something of his favour to my
+money, but I hoped he saw reason also in the justice he had done me before. He
+said, yes, he had, but this had confirmed his opinion, and he was fully
+satisfied now of my having been injured. So I came off with flying colours,
+though from an affair in which I was at the very brink of destruction.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+It was but three days after this, that not at all made cautious by my former
+danger, as I used to be, and still pursuing the art which I had so long been
+employed in, I ventured into a house where I saw the doors open, and furnished
+myself, as I though verily without being perceived, with two pieces of flowered
+silks, such as they call brocaded silk, very rich. It was not a mercer&rsquo;s
+shop, nor a warehouse of a mercer, but looked like a private dwelling-house,
+and was, it seems, inhabited by a man that sold goods for the weavers to the
+mercers, like a broker or factor.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+That I may make short of this black part of this story, I was attacked by two
+wenches that came open-mouthed at me just as I was going out at the door, and
+one of them pulled me back into the room, while the other shut the door upon
+me. I would have given them good words, but there was no room for it, two fiery
+dragons could not have been more furious than they were; they tore my clothes,
+bullied and roared as if they would have murdered me; the mistress of the house
+came next, and then the master, and all outrageous, for a while especially.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+I gave the master very good words, told him the door was open, and things were
+a temptation to me, that I was poor and distressed, and poverty was when many
+could not resist, and begged him with tears to have pity on me. The mistress of
+the house was moved with compassion, and inclined to have let me go, and had
+almost persuaded her husband to it also, but the saucy wenches were run, even
+before they were sent, and had fetched a constable, and then the master said he
+could not go back, I must go before a justice, and answered his wife that he
+might come into trouble himself if he should let me go.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+The sight of the constable, indeed, struck me with terror, and I thought I
+should have sunk into the ground. I fell into faintings, and indeed the people
+themselves thought I would have died, when the woman argued again for me, and
+entreated her husband, seeing they had lost nothing, to let me go. I offered
+him to pay for the two pieces, whatever the value was, though I had not got
+them, and argued that as he had his goods, and had really lost nothing, it
+would be cruel to pursue me to death, and have my blood for the bare attempt of
+taking them. I put the constable in mind that I had broke no doors, nor carried
+anything away; and when I came to the justice, and pleaded there that I had
+neither broken anything to get in, nor carried anything out, the justice was
+inclined to have released me; but the first saucy jade that stopped me,
+affirming that I was going out with the goods, but that she stopped me and
+pulled me back as I was upon the threshold, the justice upon that point
+committed me, and I was carried to Newgate. That horrid place! my very blood
+chills at the mention of its name; the place where so many of my comrades had
+been locked up, and from whence they went to the fatal tree; the place where my
+mother suffered so deeply, where I was brought into the world, and from whence
+I expected no redemption but by an infamous death: to conclude, the place that
+had so long expected me, and which with so much art and success I had so long
+avoided.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+I was not fixed indeed; &rsquo;tis impossible to describe the terror of my
+mind, when I was first brought in, and when I looked around upon all the
+horrors of that dismal place. I looked on myself as lost, and that I had
+nothing to think of but of going out of the world, and that with the utmost
+infamy: the hellish noise, the roaring, swearing, and clamour, the stench and
+nastiness, and all the dreadful crowd of afflicting things that I saw there,
+joined together to make the place seem an emblem of hell itself, and a kind of
+an entrance into it.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Now I reproached myself with the many hints I had had, as I have mentioned
+above, from my own reason, from the sense of my good circumstances, and of the
+many dangers I had escaped, to leave off while I was well, and how I had
+withstood them all, and hardened my thoughts against all fear. It seemed to me
+that I was hurried on by an inevitable and unseen fate to this day of misery,
+and that now I was to expiate all my offences at the gallows; that I was now to
+give satisfaction to justice with my blood, and that I was come to the last
+hour of my life and of my wickedness together. These things poured themselves
+in upon my thoughts in a confused manner, and left me overwhelmed with
+melancholy and despair.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Them I repented heartily of all my life past, but that repentance yielded me no
+satisfaction, no peace, no, not in the least, because, as I said to myself, it
+was repenting after the power of further sinning was taken away. I seemed not
+to mourn that I had committed such crimes, and for the fact as it was an
+offence against God and my neighbour, but I mourned that I was to be punished
+for it. I was a penitent, as I thought, not that I had sinned, but that I was
+to suffer, and this took away all the comfort, and even the hope of my
+repentance in my own thoughts.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+I got no sleep for several nights or days after I came into that wretched
+place, and glad I would have been for some time to have died there, though I
+did not consider dying as it ought to be considered neither; indeed, nothing
+could be filled with more horror to my imagination than the very place, nothing
+was more odious to me than the company that was there. Oh! if I had but been
+sent to any place in the world, and not to Newgate, I should have thought
+myself happy.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+In the next place, how did the hardened wretches that were there before me
+triumph over me! What! Mrs. Flanders come to Newgate at last? What! Mrs. Mary,
+Mrs. Molly, and after that plain Moll Flanders? They thought the devil had
+helped me, they said, that I had reigned so long; they expected me there many
+years ago, and was I come at last? Then they flouted me with my dejections,
+welcomed me to the place, wished me joy, bid me have a good heart, not to be
+cast down, things might not be so bad as I feared, and the like; then called
+for brandy, and drank to me, but put it all up to my score, for they told me I
+was but just come to the college, as they called it, and sure I had money in my
+pocket, though they had none.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+I asked one of this crew how long she had been there. She said four months. I
+asked her how the place looked to her when she first came into it. &ldquo;Just
+as it did now to you,&rdquo; says she, &ldquo;dreadful and frightful&rdquo;; that she
+thought she was in hell; &ldquo;and I believe so still,&rdquo; adds she,
+&ldquo;but it is natural to me now, I don&rsquo;t disturb myself about
+it.&rdquo; &ldquo;I suppose,&rdquo; says I, &ldquo;you are in no danger of what
+is to follow?&rdquo; &ldquo;Nay,&rdquo; says she, &ldquo;for you are mistaken
+there, I assure you, for I am under sentence, only I pleaded my belly, but I am
+no more with child than the judge that tried me, and I expect to be called down
+next sessions.&rdquo; This &ldquo;calling down&rdquo; is calling down to their
+former judgment, when a woman has been respited for her belly, but proves not
+to be with child, or if she has been with child, and has been brought to bed.
+&ldquo;Well,&rdquo; says I, &ldquo;are you thus easy?&rdquo; &ldquo;Ay,&rdquo;
+says she, &ldquo;I can&rsquo;t help myself; what signifies being sad? If I am
+hanged, there&rsquo;s an end of me,&rdquo; says she; and away she turns
+dancing, and sings as she goes the following piece of Newgate wit&mdash;
+</p>
+
+<p class="poem">
+&ldquo;If I swing by the string,<br />
+I shall hear the bell ring,<br />
+And then there&rsquo;s an end of poor Jenny.&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+I mention this because it would be worth the observation of any prisoner, who
+shall hereafter fall into the same misfortune, and come to that dreadful place
+of Newgate, how time, necessity, and conversing with the wretches that are
+there familiarizes the place to them; how at last they become reconciled to
+that which at first was the greatest dread upon their spirits in the world, and
+are as impudently cheerful and merry in their misery as they were when out of
+it.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+I cannot say, as some do, this devil is not so black as he is painted; for
+indeed no colours can represent the place to the life, not any soul conceive
+aright of it but those who have been sufferers there. But how hell should
+become by degree so natural, and not only tolerable, but even agreeable, is a
+thing unintelligible but by those who have experienced it, as I have.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+The same night that I was sent to Newgate, I sent the news of it to my old
+governess, who was surprised at it, you may be sure, and spent the night almost
+as ill out of Newgate, as I did in it.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+The next morning she came to see me; she did what she could to comfort me, but
+she saw that was to no purpose; however, as she said, to sink under the weight
+was but to increase the weight; she immediately applied herself to all the
+proper methods to prevent the effects of it, which we feared, and first she
+found out the two fiery jades that had surprised me. She tampered with them,
+offered them money, and, in a word, tried all imaginable ways to prevent a
+prosecution; she offered one of the wenches &pound;100 to go away from her
+mistress, and not to appear against me, but she was so resolute, that though
+she was but a servant maid at &pound;3 a year wages or thereabouts, she refused
+it, and would have refused it, as my governess said she believed, if she had
+offered her &pound;500. Then she attacked the other maid; she was not so
+hard-hearted in appearance as the other, and sometimes seemed inclined to be
+merciful; but the first wench kept her up, and changed her mind, and would not
+so much as let my governess talk with her, but threatened to have her up for
+tampering with the evidence.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Then she applied to the master, that is to say, the man whose goods had been
+stolen, and particularly to his wife, who, as I told you, was inclined at first
+to have some compassion for me; she found the woman the same still, but the man
+alleged he was bound by the justice that committed me, to prosecute, and that
+he should forfeit his recognisance.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+My governess offered to find friends that should get his recognisances off of
+the file, as they call it, and that he should not suffer; but it was not
+possible to convince him that could be done, or that he could be safe any way
+in the world but by appearing against me; so I was to have three witnesses of
+fact against me, the master and his two maids; that is to say, I was as certain
+to be cast for my life as I was certain that I was alive, and I had nothing to
+do but to think of dying, and prepare for it. I had but a sad foundation to
+build upon, as I said before, for all my repentance appeared to me to be only
+the effect of my fear of death, not a sincere regret for the wicked life that I
+had lived, and which had brought this misery upon me, for the offending my
+Creator, who was now suddenly to be my judge.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+I lived many days here under the utmost horror of soul; I had death, as it
+were, in view, and thought of nothing night and day, but of gibbets and
+halters, evil spirits and devils; it is not to be expressed by words how I was
+harassed, between the dreadful apprehensions of death and the terror of my
+conscience reproaching me with my past horrible life.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+The ordinary of Newgate came to me, and talked a little in his way, but all his
+divinity ran upon confessing my crime, as he called it (though he knew not what
+I was in for), making a full discovery, and the like, without which he told me
+God would never forgive me; and he said so little to the purpose, that I had no
+manner of consolation from him; and then to observe the poor creature preaching
+confession and repentance to me in the morning, and find him drunk with brandy
+and spirits by noon, this had something in it so shocking, that I began to
+nauseate the man more than his work, and his work too by degrees, for the sake
+of the man; so that I desired him to trouble me no more.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+I know not how it was, but by the indefatigable application of my diligent
+governess I had no bill preferred against me the first sessions, I mean to the
+grand jury, at Guildhall; so I had another month or five weeks before me, and
+without doubt this ought to have been accepted by me, as so much time given me
+for reflection upon what was past, and preparation for what was to come; or, in
+a word, I ought to have esteemed it as a space given me for repentance, and
+have employed it as such, but it was not in me. I was sorry (as before) for
+being in Newgate, but had very few signs of repentance about me.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+On the contrary, like the waters in the cavities and hollows of mountains,
+which petrify and turn into stone whatever they are suffered to drop on, so the
+continual conversing with such a crew of hell-hounds as I was, had the same
+common operation upon me as upon other people. I degenerated into stone; I
+turned first stupid and senseless, then brutish and thoughtless, and at last
+raving mad as any of them were; and, in short, I became as naturally pleased
+and easy with the place, as if indeed I had been born there.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+It is scarce possible to imagine that our natures should be capable of so much
+degeneracy, as to make that pleasant and agreeable that in itself is the most
+complete misery. Here was a circumstance that I think it is scarce possible to
+mention a worse: I was as exquisitely miserable as, speaking of common cases,
+it was possible for any one to be that had life and health, and money to help
+them, as I had.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+I had weight of guilt upon me enough to sink any creature who had the least
+power of reflection left, and had any sense upon them of the happiness of this
+life, of the misery of another; then I had at first remorse indeed, but no
+repentance; I had now neither remorse nor repentance. I had a crime charged on
+me, the punishment of which was death by our law; the proof so evident, that
+there was no room for me so much as to plead not guilty. I had the name of an
+old offender, so that I had nothing to expect but death in a few weeks&rsquo;
+time, neither had I myself any thoughts of escaping; and yet a certain strange
+lethargy of soul possessed me. I had no trouble, no apprehensions, no sorrow
+about me, the first surprise was gone; I was, I may well say, I know not how;
+my senses, my reason, nay, my conscience, were all asleep; my course of life
+for forty years had been a horrid complication of wickedness, whoredom,
+adultery, incest, lying, theft; and, in a word, everything but murder and
+treason had been my practice from the age of eighteen, or thereabouts, to
+three-score; and now I was engulfed in the misery of punishment, and had an
+infamous death just at the door, and yet I had no sense of my condition, no
+thought of heaven or hell at least, that went any farther than a bare flying
+touch, like the stitch or pain that gives a hint and goes off. I neither had a
+heart to ask God&rsquo;s mercy, nor indeed to think of it. And in this, I
+think, I have given a brief description of the completest misery on earth.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+All my terrifying thoughts were past, the horrors of the place were become
+familiar, and I felt no more uneasiness at the noise and clamours of the
+prison, than they did who made that noise; in a word, I was become a mere
+Newgate-bird, as wicked and as outrageous as any of them; nay, I scarce
+retained the habit and custom of good breeding and manners, which all along
+till now ran through my conversation; so thorough a degeneracy had possessed
+me, that I was no more the same thing that I had been, than if I had never been
+otherwise than what I was now.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+In the middle of this hardened part of my life I had another sudden surprise,
+which called me back a little to that thing called sorrow, which indeed I began
+to be past the sense of before. They told me one night that there was brought
+into the prison late the night before three highwaymen, who had committed
+robbery somewhere on the road to Windsor, Hounslow Heath, I think it was, and
+were pursued to Uxbridge by the country, and were taken there after a gallant
+resistance, in which I know not how many of the country people were wounded,
+and some killed.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+It is not to be wondered that we prisoners were all desirous enough to see
+these brave, topping gentlemen, that were talked up to be such as their fellows
+had not been known, and especially because it was said they would in the
+morning be removed into the press-yard, having given money to the head master
+of the prison, to be allowed the liberty of that better part of the prison. So
+we that were women placed ourselves in the way, that we would be sure to see
+them; but nothing could express the amazement and surprise I was in, when the
+very first man that came out I knew to be my Lancashire husband, the same who
+lived so well at Dunstable, and the same who I afterwards saw at Brickhill,
+when I was married to my last husband, as has been related.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+I was struck dumb at the sight, and knew neither what to say nor what to do; he
+did not know me, and that was all the present relief I had. I quitted my
+company, and retired as much as that dreadful place suffers anybody to retire,
+and I cried vehemently for a great while. &ldquo;Dreadful creature that I
+am,&rdquo; said I, &ldquo;how many poor people have I made miserable? How many
+desperate wretches have I sent to the devil?&rdquo; He had told me at Chester
+he was ruined by that match, and that his fortunes were made desperate on my
+account; for that thinking I had been a fortune, he was run into debt more than
+he was able to pay, and that he knew not what course to take; that he would go
+into the army and carry a musket, or buy a horse and take a tour, as he called
+it; and though I never told him that I was a fortune, and so did not actually
+deceive him myself, yet I did encourage the having it thought that I was so,
+and by that means I was the occasion originally of his mischief.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+The surprise of the thing only struck deeper into my thoughts, and gave me
+stronger reflections than all that had befallen me before. I grieved day and
+night for him, and the more for that they told me he was the captain of the
+gang, and that he had committed so many robberies, that Hind, or Whitney, or
+the Golden Farmer were fools to him; that he would surely be hanged if there
+were no more men left in the country he was born in; and that there would
+abundance of people come in against him.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+I was overwhelmed with grief for him; my own case gave me no disturbance
+compared to this, and I loaded myself with reproaches on his account. I
+bewailed his misfortunes, and the ruin he was now come to, at such a rate, that
+I relished nothing now as I did before, and the first reflections I made upon
+the horrid, detestable life I had lived began to return upon me, and as these
+things returned, my abhorrence of the place I was in, and of the way of living
+in it, returned also; in a word, I was perfectly changed, and become another
+body.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+While I was under these influences of sorrow for him, came notice to me that
+the next sessions approaching there would be a bill preferred to the grand jury
+against me, and that I should be certainly tried for my life at the Old Bailey.
+My temper was touched before, the hardened, wretched boldness of spirit which I
+had acquired abated, and conscious in the prison, guilt began to flow in upon
+my mind. In short, I began to think, and to think is one real advance from hell
+to heaven. All that hellish, hardened state and temper of soul, which I have
+said so much of before, is but a deprivation of thought; he that is restored to
+his power of thinking, is restored to himself.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+As soon as I began, I say, to think, the first think that occurred to me broke
+out thus: &ldquo;Lord! what will become of me? I shall certainly die! I shall
+be cast, to be sure, and there is nothing beyond that but death! I have no
+friends; what shall I do? I shall be certainly cast! Lord, have mercy upon me!
+What will become of me?&rdquo; This was a sad thought, you will say, to be the
+first, after so long a time, that had started into my soul of that kind, and
+yet even this was nothing but fright at what was to come; there was not a word
+of sincere repentance in it all. However, I was indeed dreadfully dejected, and
+disconsolate to the last degree; and as I had no friend in the world to
+communicate my distressed thoughts to, it lay so heavy upon me, that it threw
+me into fits and swoonings several times a day. I sent for my old governess,
+and she, give her her due, acted the part of a true friend. She left no stone
+unturned to prevent the grand jury finding the bill. She sought out one or two
+of the jurymen, talked with them, and endeavoured to possess them with
+favourable dispositions, on account that nothing was taken away, and no house
+broken, etc.; but all would not do, they were over-ruled by the rest; the two
+wenches swore home to the fact, and the jury found the bill against me for
+robbery and house-breaking, that is, for felony and burglary.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+I sunk down when they brought me news of it, and after I came to myself again,
+I thought I should have died with the weight of it. My governess acted a true
+mother to me; she pitied me, she cried with me, and for me, but she could not
+help me; and to add to the terror of it, &rsquo;twas the discourse all over the
+house that I should die for it. I could hear them talk it among themselves very
+often, and see them shake their heads and say they were sorry for it, and the
+like, as is usual in the place. But still nobody came to tell me their
+thoughts, till at last one of the keepers came to me privately, and said with a
+sigh, &ldquo;Well, Mrs. Flanders, you will be tried on Friday&rdquo; (this was
+but a Wednesday); &ldquo;what do you intend to do?&rdquo; I turned as white as
+a clout, and said, &ldquo;God knows what I shall do; for my part, I know not
+what to do.&rdquo; &ldquo;Why,&rdquo; says he, &ldquo;I won&rsquo;t flatter
+you, I would have you prepare for death, for I doubt you will be cast; and as
+they say you are an old offender, I doubt you will find but little mercy. They
+say,&rdquo; added he, &ldquo;your case is very plain, and that the witnesses
+swear so home against you, there will be no standing it.&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+This was a stab into the very vitals of one under such a burthen as I was
+oppressed with before, and I could not speak to him a word, good or bad, for a
+great while; but at last I burst out into tears, and said to him, &ldquo;Lord!
+Mr. &mdash;&mdash;, what must I do?&rdquo; &ldquo;Do!&rdquo; says he,
+&ldquo;send for the ordinary; send for a minister and talk with him; for,
+indeed, Mrs. Flanders, unless you have very good friends, you are no woman for
+this world.&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+This was plain dealing indeed, but it was very harsh to me, at least I thought
+it so. He left me in the greatest confusion imaginable, and all that night I
+lay awake. And now I began to say my prayers, which I had scarce done before
+since my last husband&rsquo;s death, or from a little while after. And truly I
+may well call it saying my prayers, for I was in such a confusion, and had such
+horror upon my mind, that though I cried, and repeated several times the
+ordinary expression of &ldquo;Lord, have mercy upon me!&rdquo; I never brought
+myself to any sense of my being a miserable sinner, as indeed I was, and of
+confessing my sins to God, and begging pardon for the sake of Jesus Christ. I
+was overwhelmed with the sense of my condition, being tried for my life, and
+being sure to be condemned, and then I was as sure to be executed, and on this
+account I cried out all night, &ldquo;Lord, what will become of me? Lord! what
+shall I do? Lord! I shall be hanged! Lord, have mercy upon me!&rdquo; and the
+like.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+My poor afflicted governess was now as much concerned as I, and a great deal
+more truly penitent, though she had no prospect of being brought to trial and
+sentence. Not but that she deserved it as much as I, and so she said herself;
+but she had not done anything herself for many years, other than receiving what
+I and others stole, and encouraging us to steal it. But she cried, and took on
+like a distracted body, wringing her hands, and crying out that she was undone,
+that she believed there was a curse from heaven upon her, that she should be
+damned, that she had been the destruction of all her friends, that she had
+brought such a one, and such a one, and such a one to the gallows; and there
+she reckoned up ten or eleven people, some of which I have given account of,
+that came to untimely ends; and that now she was the occasion of my ruin, for
+she had persuaded me to go on, when I would have left off. I interrupted her
+there. &ldquo;No, mother, no,&rdquo; said I, &ldquo;don&rsquo;t speak of that,
+for you would have had me left off when I got the mercer&rsquo;s money again,
+and when I came home from Harwich, and I would not hearken to you; therefore
+you have not been to blame; it is I only have ruined myself, I have brought
+myself to this misery&rdquo;; and thus we spent many hours together.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Well, there was no remedy; the prosecution went on, and on the Thursday I was
+carried down to the sessions-house, where I was arraigned, as they called it,
+and the next day I was appointed to be tried. At the arraignment I pleaded
+&ldquo;Not guilty,&rdquo; and well I might, for I was indicted for felony and
+burglary; that is, for feloniously stealing two pieces of brocaded silk, value
+&pound;46, the goods of Anthony Johnson, and for breaking open his doors;
+whereas I knew very well they could not pretend to prove I had broken up the
+doors, or so much as lifted up a latch.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+On the Friday I was brought to my trial. I had exhausted my spirits with crying
+for two or three days before, so that I slept better the Thursday night than I
+expected, and had more courage for my trial than indeed I thought possible for
+me to have.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+When the trial began, the indictment was read, I would have spoke, but they
+told me the witnesses must be heard first, and then I should have time to be
+heard. The witnesses were the two wenches, a couple of hard-mouthed jades
+indeed, for though the thing was truth in the main, yet they aggravated it to
+the utmost extremity, and swore I had the goods wholly in my possession, that I
+had hid them among my clothes, that I was going off with them, that I had one
+foot over the threshold when they discovered themselves, and then I put
+t&rsquo; other over, so that I was quite out of the house in the street with
+the goods before they took hold of me, and then they seized me, and brought me
+back again, and they took the goods upon me. The fact in general was all true,
+but I believe, and insisted upon it, that they stopped me before I had set my
+foot clear of the threshold of the house. But that did not argue much, for
+certain it was that I had taken the goods, and I was bringing them away, if I
+had not been taken.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+But I pleaded that I had stole nothing, they had lost nothing, that the door
+was open, and I went in, seeing the goods lie there, and with design to buy.
+If, seeing nobody in the house, I had taken any of them up in my hand it could
+not be concluded that I intended to steal them, for that I never carried them
+farther than the door to look on them with the better light.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+The Court would not allow that by any means, and made a kind of a jest of my
+intending to buy the goods, that being no shop for the selling of anything, and
+as to carrying them to the door to look at them, the maids made their impudent
+mocks upon that, and spent their wit upon it very much; told the Court I had
+looked at them sufficiently, and approved them very well, for I had packed them
+up under my clothes, and was a-going with them.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+In short, I was found guilty of felony, but acquitted of the burglary, which
+was but small comfort to me, the first bringing me to a sentence of death, and
+the last would have done no more. The next day I was carried down to receive
+the dreadful sentence, and when they came to ask me what I had to say why
+sentence should not pass, I stood mute a while, but somebody that stood behind
+me prompted me aloud to speak to the judges, for that they could represent
+things favourably for me. This encouraged me to speak, and I told them I had
+nothing to say to stop the sentence, but that I had much to say to bespeak the
+mercy of the Court; that I hoped they would allow something in such a case for
+the circumstances of it; that I had broken no doors, had carried nothing off;
+that nobody had lost anything; that the person whose goods they were was
+pleased to say he desired mercy might be shown (which indeed he very honestly
+did); that, at the worst, it was the first offence, and that I had never been
+before any court of justice before; and, in a word, I spoke with more courage
+that I thought I could have done, and in such a moving tone, and though with
+tears, yet not so many tears as to obstruct my speech, that I could see it
+moved others to tears that heard me.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+The judges sat grave and mute, gave me an easy hearing, and time to say all
+that I would, but, saying neither Yes nor No to it, pronounced the sentence of
+death upon me, a sentence that was to me like death itself, which, after it was
+read, confounded me. I had no more spirit left in me, I had no tongue to speak,
+or eyes to look up either to God or man.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+My poor governess was utterly disconsolate, and she that was my comforter
+before, wanted comfort now herself; and sometimes mourning, sometimes raging,
+was as much out of herself, as to all outward appearance, as any mad woman in
+Bedlam. Nor was she only disconsolate as to me, but she was struck with horror
+at the sense of her own wicked life, and began to look back upon it with a
+taste quite different from mine, for she was penitent to the highest degree for
+her sins, as well as sorrowful for the misfortune. She sent for a minister,
+too, a serious, pious, good man, and applied herself with such earnestness, by
+his assistance, to the work of a sincere repentance, that I believe, and so did
+the minister too, that she was a true penitent; and, which is still more, she
+was not only so for the occasion, and at that juncture, but she continued so,
+as I was informed, to the day of her death.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+It is rather to be thought of than expressed what was now my condition. I had
+nothing before me but present death; and as I had no friends to assist me, or
+to stir for me, I expected nothing but to find my name in the dead warrant,
+which was to come down for the execution, the Friday afterwards, of five more
+and myself.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+In the meantime my poor distressed governess sent me a minister, who at her
+request first, and at my own afterwards, came to visit me. He exhorted me
+seriously to repent of all my sins, and to dally no longer with my soul; not
+flattering myself with hopes of life, which, he said, he was informed there was
+no room to expect, but unfeignedly to look up to God with my whole soul, and to
+cry for pardon in the name of Jesus Christ. He backed his discourses with
+proper quotations of Scripture, encouraging the greatest sinner to repent, and
+turn from their evil way, and when he had done, he kneeled down and prayed with
+me.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+It was now that, for the first time, I felt any real signs of repentance. I now
+began to look back upon my past life with abhorrence, and having a kind of view
+into the other side of time, and things of life, as I believe they do with
+everybody at such a time, began to look with a different aspect, and quite
+another shape, than they did before. The greatest and best things, the views of
+felicity, the joy, the griefs of life, were quite other things; and I had
+nothing in my thoughts but what was so infinitely superior to what I had known
+in life, that it appeared to me to be the greatest stupidity in nature to lay
+any weight upon anything, though the most valuable in this world.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+The word eternity represented itself with all its incomprehensible additions,
+and I had such extended notions of it, that I know not how to express them.
+Among the rest, how vile, how gross, how absurd did every pleasant thing
+look!&mdash;I mean, that we had counted pleasant before&mdash;especially when I
+reflected that these sordid trifles were the things for which we forfeited
+eternal felicity.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+With these reflections came, of mere course, severe reproaches of my own mind
+for my wretched behaviour in my past life; that I had forfeited all hope of any
+happiness in the eternity that I was just going to enter into, and on the
+contrary was entitled to all that was miserable, or had been conceived of
+misery; and all this with the frightful addition of its being also eternal.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+I am not capable of reading lectures of instruction to anybody, but I relate
+this in the very manner in which things then appeared to me, as far as I am
+able, but infinitely short of the lively impressions which they made on my soul
+at that time; indeed, those impressions are not to be explained by words, or if
+they are, I am not mistress of words enough to express them. It must be the
+work of every sober reader to make just reflections on them, as their own
+circumstances may direct; and, without question, this is what every one at some
+time or other may feel something of; I mean, a clearer sight into things to
+come than they had here, and a dark view of their own concern in them.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+But I go back to my own case. The minister pressed me to tell him, as far as I
+thought convenient, in what state I found myself as to the sight I had of
+things beyond life. He told me he did not come as ordinary of the place, whose
+business it is to extort confessions from prisoners, for private ends, or for
+the further detecting of other offenders; that his business was to move me to
+such freedom of discourse as might serve to disburthen my own mind, and furnish
+him to administer comfort to me as far as was in his power; and assured me,
+that whatever I said to him should remain with him, and be as much a secret as
+if it was known only to God and myself; and that he desired to know nothing of
+me, but as above to qualify him to apply proper advice and assistance to me,
+and to pray to God for me.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+This honest, friendly way of treating me unlocked all the sluices of my
+passions. He broke into my very soul by it; and I unravelled all the wickedness
+of my life to him. In a word, I gave him an abridgment of this whole history; I
+gave him a picture of my conduct for fifty years in miniature.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+I hid nothing from him, and he in return exhorted me to sincere repentance,
+explained to me what he meant by repentance, and then drew out such a scheme of
+infinite mercy, proclaimed from heaven to sinners of the greatest magnitude,
+that he left me nothing to say, that looked like despair, or doubting of being
+accepted; and in this condition he left me the first night.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+He visited me again the next morning, and went on with his method of explaining
+the terms of divine mercy, which according to him consisted of nothing more, or
+more difficult, than that of being sincerely desirous of it, and willing to
+accept it; only a sincere regret for, and hatred of, those things I had done,
+which rendered me so just an object of divine vengeance. I am not able to
+repeat the excellent discourses of this extraordinary man; &rsquo;tis all that
+I am able to do, to say that he revived my heart, and brought me into such a
+condition that I never knew anything of in my life before. I was covered with
+shame and tears for things past, and yet had at the same time a secret
+surprising joy at the prospect of being a true penitent, and obtaining the
+comfort of a penitent&mdash;I mean, the hope of being forgiven; and so swift
+did thoughts circulate, and so high did the impressions they had made upon me
+run, that I thought I could freely have gone out that minute to execution,
+without any uneasiness at all, casting my soul entirely into the arms of
+infinite mercy as a penitent.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+The good gentleman was so moved also in my behalf with a view of the influence
+which he saw these things had on me, that he blessed God he had come to visit
+me, and resolved not to leave me till the last moment; that is, not to leave
+visiting me.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+It was no less than twelve days after our receiving sentence before any were
+ordered for execution, and then upon a Wednesday the dead warrant, as they call
+it, came down, and I found my name was among them. A terrible blow this was to
+my new resolutions; indeed my heart sank within me, and I swooned away twice,
+one after another, but spoke not a word. The good minister was sorely afflicted
+for me, and did what he could to comfort me with the same arguments, and the
+same moving eloquence that he did before, and left me not that evening so long
+as the prisonkeepers would suffer him to stay in the prison, unless he would be
+locked up with me all night, which he was not willing to be.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+I wondered much that I did not see him all the next day, it being the day
+before the time appointed for execution; and I was greatly discouraged, and
+dejected in my mind, and indeed almost sank for want of the comfort which he
+had so often, and with such success, yielded me on his former visits. I waited
+with great impatience, and under the greatest oppressions of spirits
+imaginable, till about four o&rsquo;clock he came to my apartment; for I had
+obtained the favour, by the help of money, nothing being to be done in that
+place without it, not to be kept in the condemned hole, as they call it, among
+the rest of the prisoners who were to die, but to have a little dirty chamber
+to myself.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+My heart leaped within me for joy when I heard his voice at the door, even
+before I saw him; but let any one judge what kind of motion I found in my soul,
+when after having made a short excuse for his not coming, he showed me that his
+time had been employed on my account; that he had obtained a favourable report
+from the Recorder to the Secretary of State in my particular case, and, in
+short, that he had brought me a reprieve.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+He used all the caution that he was able in letting me know a thing which it
+would have been a double cruelty to have concealed; and yet it was too much for
+me; for as grief had overset me before, so did joy overset me now, and I fell
+into a much more dangerous swooning than I did at first, and it was not without
+a great difficulty that I was recovered at all.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+The good man having made a very Christian exhortation to me, not to let the joy
+of my reprieve put the remembrance of my past sorrow out of my mind, and having
+told me that he must leave me, to go and enter the reprieve in the books, and
+show it to the sheriffs, stood up just before his going away, and in a very
+earnest manner prayed to God for me, that my repentance might be made unfeigned
+and sincere; and that my coming back, as it were, into life again, might not be
+a returning to the follies of life which I had made such solemn resolutions to
+forsake, and to repent of them. I joined heartily in the petition, and must
+needs say I had deeper impressions upon my mind all that night, of the mercy of
+God in sparing my life, and a greater detestation of my past sins, from a sense
+of the goodness which I had tasted in this case, than I had in all my sorrow
+before.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+This may be thought inconsistent in itself, and wide from the business of this
+book; particularly, I reflect that many of those who may be pleased and
+diverted with the relation of the wild and wicked part of my story may not
+relish this, which is really the best part of my life, the most advantageous to
+myself, and the most instructive to others. Such, however, will, I hope, allow
+me the liberty to make my story complete. It would be a severe satire on such
+to say they do not relish the repentance as much as they do the crime; and that
+they had rather the history were a complete tragedy, as it was very likely to
+have been.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+But I go on with my relation. The next morning there was a sad scene indeed in
+the prison. The first thing I was saluted with in the morning was the tolling
+of the great bell at St. Sepulchre&rsquo;s, as they call it, which ushered in
+the day. As soon as it began to toll, a dismal groaning and crying was heard
+from the condemned hole, where there lay six poor souls who were to be executed
+that day, some from one crime, some for another, and two of them for murder.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+This was followed by a confused clamour in the house, among the several sorts
+of prisoners, expressing their awkward sorrows for the poor creatures that were
+to die, but in a manner extremely differing one from another. Some cried for
+them; some huzzaed, and wished them a good journey; some damned and cursed
+those that had brought them to it&mdash;that is, meaning the evidence, or
+prosecutors&mdash;many pitying them, and some few, but very few, praying for
+them.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+There was hardly room for so much composure of mind as was required for me to
+bless the merciful Providence that had, as it were, snatched me out of the jaws
+of this destruction. I remained, as it were, dumb and silent, overcome with the
+sense of it, and not able to express what I had in my heart; for the passions
+on such occasions as these are certainly so agitated as not to be able
+presently to regulate their own motions.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+All the while the poor condemned creatures were preparing to their death, and
+the ordinary, as they call him, was busy with them, disposing them to submit to
+their sentence&mdash;I say, all this while I was seized with a fit of
+trembling, as much as I could have been if I had been in the same condition, as
+to be sure the day before I expected to be; I was so violently agitated by this
+surprising fit, that I shook as if it had been in the cold fit of an ague, so
+that I could not speak or look but like one distracted. As soon as they were
+all put into carts and gone, which, however, I had not courage enough to
+see&mdash;I say, as soon as they were gone, I fell into a fit of crying
+involuntarily, and without design, but as a mere distemper, and yet so violent,
+and it held me so long, that I knew not what course to take, nor could I stop,
+or put a check to it, no, not with all the strength and courage I had.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+This fit of crying held me near two hours, and, as I believe, held me till they
+were all out of the world, and then a most humble, penitent, serious kind of
+joy succeeded; a real transport it was, or passion of joy and thankfulness, but
+still unable to give vent to it by words, and in this I continued most part of
+the day.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+In the evening the good minister visited me again, and then fell to his usual
+good discourses. He congratulated my having a space yet allowed me for
+repentance, whereas the state of those six poor creatures was determined, and
+they were now past the offers of salvation; he earnestly pressed me to retain
+the same sentiments of the things of life that I had when I had a view of
+eternity; and at the end of all told me I should not conclude that all was
+over, that a reprieve was not a pardon, that he could not yet answer for the
+effects of it; however, I had this mercy, that I had more time given me, and
+that it was my business to improve that time.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+This discourse, though very seasonable, left a kind of sadness on my heart, as
+if I might expect the affair would have a tragical issue still, which, however,
+he had no certainty of; and I did not indeed, at that time, question him about
+it, he having said that he would do his utmost to bring it to a good end, and
+that he hoped he might, but he would not have me be secure; and the consequence
+proved that he had reason for what he said.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+It was about a fortnight after this that I had some just apprehensions that I
+should be included in the next dead warrant at the ensuing sessions; and it was
+not without great difficulty, and at last a humble petition for transportation,
+that I avoided it, so ill was I beholding to fame, and so prevailing was the
+fatal report of being an old offender; though in that they did not do me strict
+justice, for I was not in the sense of the law an old offender, whatever I was
+in the eye of the judge, for I had never been before them in a judicial way
+before; so the judges could not charge me with being an old offender, but the
+Recorder was pleased to represent my case as he thought fit.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+I had now a certainty of life indeed, but with the hard conditions of being
+ordered for transportation, which indeed was hard condition in itself, but not
+when comparatively considered; and therefore I shall make no comments upon the
+sentence, nor upon the choice I was put to. We shall all choose anything rather
+than death, especially when &rsquo;tis attended with an uncomfortable prospect
+beyond it, which was my case.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+The good minister, whose interest, though a stranger to me, had obtained me the
+reprieve, mourned sincerely for this part. He was in hopes, he said, that I
+should have ended my days under the influence of good instruction, that I
+should not have been turned loose again among such a wretched crew as they
+generally are, who are thus sent abroad, where, as he said, I must have more
+than ordinary secret assistance from the grace of God, if I did not turn as
+wicked again as ever.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+I have not for a good while mentioned my governess, who had during most, if not
+all, of this part been dangerously sick, and being in as near a view of death
+by her disease as I was by my sentence, was a great penitent&mdash;I say, I
+have not mentioned her, nor indeed did I see her in all this time; but being
+now recovering, and just able to come abroad, she came to see me.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+I told her my condition, and what a different flux and reflux of tears and
+hopes I had been agitated with; I told her what I had escaped, and upon what
+terms; and she was present when the minister expressed his fears of my
+relapsing into wickedness upon my falling into the wretched companies that are
+generally transported. Indeed I had a melancholy reflection upon it in my own
+mind, for I knew what a dreadful gang was always sent away together, and I said
+to my governess that the good minister&rsquo;s fears were not without cause.
+&ldquo;Well, well,&rdquo; says she, &ldquo;but I hope you will not be tempted
+with such a horrid example as that.&rdquo; And as soon as the minister was
+gone, she told me she would not have me discouraged, for perhaps ways and means
+might be found out to dispose of me in a particular way, by myself, of which
+she would talk further to me afterward.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+I looked earnestly at her, and I thought she looked more cheerful than she
+usually had done, and I entertained immediately a thousand notions of being
+delivered, but could not for my life image the methods, or think of one that
+was in the least feasible; but I was too much concerned in it to let her go
+from me without explaining herself, which, though she was very loth to do, yet
+my importunity prevailed, and, while I was still pressing, she answered me in a
+few words, thus: &ldquo;Why, you have money, have you not? Did you ever know
+one in your life that was transported and had a hundred pounds in his pocket,
+I&rsquo;ll warrant you, child?&rdquo; says she.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+I understood her presently, but told her I would leave all that to her, but I
+saw no room to hope for anything but a strict execution of the order, and as it
+was a severity that was esteemed a mercy, there was no doubt but it would be
+strictly observed. She said no more but this: &ldquo;We will try what can be
+done,&rdquo; and so we parted for that night.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+I lay in the prison near fifteen weeks after this order for transportation was
+signed. What the reason of it was, I know not, but at the end of this time I
+was put on board of a ship in the Thames, and with me a gang of thirteen as
+hardened vile creatures as ever Newgate produced in my time; and it would
+really well take up a history longer than mine to describe the degrees of
+impudence and audacious villainy that those thirteen were arrived to, and the
+manner of their behaviour in the voyage; of which I have a very diverting
+account by me, which the captain of the ship who carried them over gave me the
+minutes of, and which he caused his mate to write down at large.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+It may perhaps be thought trifling to enter here into a relation of all the
+little incidents which attended me in this interval of my circumstances; I
+mean, between the final order of my transportation and the time of my going on
+board the ship; and I am too near the end of my story to allow room for it; but
+something relating to me and my Lancashire husband I must not omit.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+He had, as I have observed already, been carried from the master&rsquo;s side
+of the ordinary prison into the press-yard, with three of his comrades, for
+they found another to add to them after some time; here, for what reason I knew
+not, they were kept in custody without being brought to trial almost three
+months. It seems they found means to bribe or buy off some of those who were
+expected to come in against them, and they wanted evidence for some time to
+convict them. After some puzzle on this account, at first they made a shift to
+get proof enough against two of them to carry them off; but the other two, of
+which my Lancashire husband was one, lay still in suspense. They had, I think,
+one positive evidence against each of them, but the law strictly obliging them
+to have two witnesses, they could make nothing of it. Yet it seems they were
+resolved not to part with the men neither, not doubting but a further evidence
+would at last come in; and in order to this, I think publication was made, that
+such prisoners being taken, any one that had been robbed by them might come to
+the prison and see them.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+I took this opportunity to satisfy my curiosity, pretending that I had been
+robbed in the Dunstable coach, and that I would go to see the two highwaymen.
+But when I came into the press-yard, I so disguised myself, and muffled my face
+up so, that he could see little of me, and consequently knew nothing of who I
+was; and when I came back, I said publicly that I knew them very well.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Immediately it was rumoured all over the prison that Moll Flanders would turn
+evidence against one of the highwaymen, and that I was to come off by it from
+the sentence of transportation.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+They heard of it, and immediately my husband desired to see this Mrs. Flanders
+that knew him so well, and was to be an evidence against him; and accordingly I
+had leave given to go to him. I dressed myself up as well as the best clothes
+that I suffered myself ever to appear in there would allow me, and went to the
+press-yard, but had for some time a hood over my face. He said little to me at
+first, but asked me if I knew him. I told him, Yes, very well; but as I
+concealed my face, so I counterfeited my voice, that he had not the least guess
+at who I was. He asked me where I had seen him. I told him between Dunstable
+and Brickhill; but turning to the keeper that stood by, I asked if I might not
+be admitted to talk with him alone. He said Yes, yes, as much as I pleased, and
+so very civilly withdrew.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+As soon as he was gone, I had shut the door, I threw off my hood, and bursting
+out into tears, &ldquo;My dear,&rdquo; says I, &ldquo;do you not know
+me?&rdquo; He turned pale, and stood speechless, like one thunderstruck, and,
+not able to conquer the surprise, said no more but this, &ldquo;Let me sit
+down&rdquo;; and sitting down by a table, he laid his elbow upon the table, and
+leaning his head on his hand, fixed his eyes on the ground as one stupid. I
+cried so vehemently, on the other hand, that it was a good while ere I could
+speak any more; but after I had given some vent to my passion by tears, I
+repeated the same words, &ldquo;My dear, do you not know me?&rdquo; At which he
+answered, Yes, and said no more a good while.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+After some time continuing in the surprise, as above, he cast up his eyes
+towards me and said, &ldquo;How could you be so cruel?&rdquo; I did not readily
+understand what he meant; and I answered, &ldquo;How can you call me cruel?
+What have I been cruel to you in?&rdquo; &ldquo;To come to me,&rdquo; says he,
+&ldquo;in such a place as this, is it not to insult me? I have not robbed you,
+at least not on the highway.&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+I perceived by this that he knew nothing of the miserable circumstances I was
+in, and thought that, having got some intelligence of his being there, I had
+come to upbraid him with his leaving me. But I had too much to say to him to be
+affronted, and told him in few words, that I was far from coming to insult him,
+but at best I came to condole mutually; that he would be easily satisfied that
+I had no such view, when I should tell him that my condition was worse than
+his, and that many ways. He looked a little concerned at the general expression
+of my condition being worse than his, but, with a kind smile, looked a little
+wildly, and said, &ldquo;How can that be? When you see me fettered, and in
+Newgate, and two of my companions executed already, how can your your condition
+be worse than mine?&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;Come, my dear,&rdquo; says I, &ldquo;we have a long piece of work to do,
+if I should be to relate, or you to hear, my unfortunate history; but if you
+are disposed to hear it, you will soon conclude with me that my condition is
+worse than yours.&rdquo; &ldquo;How is that possible,&rdquo; says he again,
+&ldquo;when I expect to be cast for my life the very next sessions?&rdquo;
+&ldquo;Yes,&rdquo; says I, &ldquo;&rsquo;tis very possible, when I shall tell you that
+I have been cast for my life three sessions ago, and am under sentence of
+death; is not my case worse than yours?&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Then indeed, he stood silent again, like one struck dumb, and after a while he
+starts up. &ldquo;Unhappy couple!&rdquo; says he. &ldquo;How can this be
+possible?&rdquo; I took him by the hand. &ldquo;Come, my dear,&rdquo; said I,
+&ldquo;sit down, and let us compare our sorrows. I am a prisoner in this very
+house, and in much worse circumstances than you, and you will be satisfied I do
+not come to insult you, when I tell you the particulars.&rdquo; And with this
+we sat down together, and I told him so much of my story as I thought was
+convenient, bringing it at last to my being reduced to great poverty, and
+representing myself as fallen into some company that led me to relieve my
+distresses by way that I had been utterly unacquainted with, and that they
+making an attempt at a tradesman&rsquo;s house, I was seized upon for having
+been but just at the door, the maid-servant pulling me in; that I neither had
+broke any lock nor taken anything away, and that notwithstanding that, I was
+brought in guilty and sentenced to die; but that the judges, having been made
+sensible of the hardship of my circumstances, had obtained leave to remit the
+sentence upon my consenting to be transported.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+I told him I fared the worse for being taken in the prison for one Moll
+Flanders, who was a famous successful thief, that all of them had heard of, but
+none of them had ever seen; but that, as he knew well, was none of my name. But
+I placed all to the account of my ill fortune, and that under this name I was
+dealt with as an old offender, though this was the first thing they had ever
+known of me. I gave him a long particular of things that had befallen me since
+I saw him, but I told him if I had seen him since he might think I had, and
+then gave him an account how I had seen him at Brickhill; how furiously he was
+pursued, and how, by giving an account that I knew him, and that he was a very
+honest gentleman, one Mr. &mdash;&mdash;, the hue-and-cry was stopped, and the
+high constable went back again.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+He listened most attentively to all my story, and smiled at most of the
+particulars, being all of them petty matters, and infinitely below what he had
+been at the head of; but when I came to the story of Brickhill, he was
+surprised. &ldquo;And was it you, my dear,&rdquo; said he, &ldquo;that gave the
+check to the mob that was at our heels there, at Brickhill?&rdquo;
+&ldquo;Yes,&rdquo; said I, &ldquo;it was I indeed.&rdquo; And then I told him
+the particulars which I had observed him there. &ldquo;Why, then,&rdquo; said
+he, &ldquo;it was you that saved my life at that time, and I am glad I owe my
+life to you, for I will pay the debt to you now, and I&rsquo;ll deliver you
+from the present condition you are in, or I will die in the attempt.&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+I told him, by no means; it was a risk too great, not worth his running the
+hazard of, and for a life not worth his saving. &rsquo;Twas no matter for that,
+he said, it was a life worth all the world to him; a life that had given him a
+new life; &ldquo;for,&rdquo; says he, &ldquo;I was never in real danger of
+being taken, but that time, till the last minute when I was taken.&rdquo;
+Indeed, he told me his danger then lay in his believing he had not been pursued
+that way; for they had gone off from Hockey quite another way, and had come over
+the enclosed country into Brickhill, not by the road, and were sure they had
+not been seen by anybody.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Here he gave me a long history of his life, which indeed would make a very
+strange history, and be infinitely diverting. He told me he took to the road
+about twelve years before he married me; that the woman which called him
+brother was not really his sister, or any kin to him, but one that belonged to
+their gang, and who, keeping correspondence with him, lived always in town,
+having good store of acquaintance; that she gave them a perfect intelligence of
+persons going out of town, and that they had made several good booties by her
+correspondence; that she thought she had fixed a fortune for him when she
+brought me to him, but happened to be disappointed, which he really could not
+blame her for; that if it had been his good luck that I had had the estate,
+which she was informed I had, he had resolved to leave off the road and live a
+retired, sober life but never to appear in public till some general pardon had
+been passed, or till he could, for money, have got his name into some
+particular pardon, that so he might have been perfectly easy; but that, as it
+had proved otherwise, he was obliged to put off his equipage and take up the
+old trade again.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+He gave me a long account of some of his adventures, and particularly one when
+he robbed the West Chester coaches near Lichfield, when he got a very great
+booty; and after that, how he robbed five graziers, in the west, going to
+Burford Fair in Wiltshire to buy sheep. He told me he got so much money on
+those two occasions, that if he had known where to have found me, he would
+certainly have embraced my proposal of going with me to Virginia, or to have
+settled in a plantation on some other parts of the English colonies in America.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+He told me he wrote two or three letters to me, directed according to my order,
+but heard nothing from me. This I indeed knew to be true, but the letters
+coming to my hand in the time of my latter husband, I could do nothing in it,
+and therefore chose to give no answer, that so he might rather believe they had
+miscarried.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Being thus disappointed, he said, he carried on the old trade ever since,
+though when he had gotten so much money, he said, he did not run such desperate
+risks as he did before. Then he gave me some account of several hard and
+desperate encounters which he had with gentlemen on the road, who parted too
+hardly with their money, and showed me some wounds he had received; and he had
+one or two very terrible wounds indeed, as particularly one by a pistol bullet,
+which broke his arm, and another with a sword, which ran him quite through the
+body, but that missing his vitals, he was cured again; one of his comrades
+having kept with him so faithfully, and so friendly, as that he assisted him in
+riding near eighty miles before his arm was set, and then got a surgeon in a
+considerable city, remote from that place where it was done, pretending they
+were gentlemen travelling towards Carlisle and that they had been attacked on
+the road by highwaymen, and that one of them had shot him into the arm and
+broke the bone.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+This, he said, his friend managed so well, that they were not suspected at all,
+but lay still till he was perfectly cured. He gave me so many distinct accounts
+of his adventures, that it is with great reluctance that I decline the relating
+them; but I consider that this is my own story, not his.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+I then inquired into the circumstances of his present case at that time, and
+what it was he expected when he came to be tried. He told me that they had no
+evidence against him, or but very little; for that of three robberies, which
+they were all charged with, it was his good fortune that he was but in one of
+them, and that there was but one witness to be had for that fact, which was not
+sufficient, but that it was expected some others would come in against him;
+that he thought indeed, when he first saw me, that I had been one that came of
+that errand; but that if somebody came in against him, he hoped he should be
+cleared; that he had had some intimation, that if he would submit to transport
+himself, he might be admitted to it without a trial, but that he could not
+think of it with any temper, and thought he could much easier submit to be
+hanged.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+I blamed him for that, and told him I blamed him on two accounts; first,
+because if he was transported, there might be a hundred ways for him that was a
+gentleman, and a bold enterprising man, to find his way back again, and perhaps
+some ways and means to come back before he went. He smiled at that part, and
+said he should like the last the best of the two, for he had a kind of horror
+upon his mind at his being sent over to the plantations, as Romans sent
+condemned slaves to work in the mines; that he thought the passage into another
+state, let it be what it would, much more tolerable at the gallows, and that
+this was the general notion of all the gentlemen who were driven by the
+exigence of their fortunes to take the road; that at the place of execution
+there was at least an end of all the miseries of the present state, and as for
+what was to follow, a man was, in his opinion, as likely to repent sincerely in
+the last fortnight of his life, under the pressures and agonies of a jail and
+the condemned hole, as he would ever be in the woods and wilderness of America;
+that servitude and hard labour were things gentlemen could never stoop to; that
+it was but the way to force them to be their own executioners afterwards, which
+was much worse; and that therefore he could not have any patience when he did
+but think of being transported.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+I used the utmost of my endeavour to persuade him, and joined that known
+woman&rsquo;s rhetoric to it&mdash;I mean, that of tears. I told him the infamy
+of a public execution was certainly a greater pressure upon the spirits of a
+gentleman than any of the mortifications that he could meet with abroad could
+be; that he had at least in the other a chance for his life, whereas here he
+had none at all; that it was the easiest thing in the world for him to manage
+the captain of a ship, who were, generally speaking, men of good-humour and
+some gallantry; and a small matter of conduct, especially if there was any
+money to be had, would make way for him to buy himself off when he came to
+Virginia.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+He looked wistfully at me, and I thought I guessed at what he meant, that is to
+say, that he had no money; but I was mistaken, his meaning was another way.
+&ldquo;You hinted just now, my dear,&rdquo; said he, &ldquo;that there might be
+a way of coming back before I went, by which I understood you that it might be
+possible to buy it off here. I had rather give &pound;200 to prevent going,
+than &pound;100 to be set at liberty when I came there.&rdquo; &ldquo;That is,
+my dear,&rdquo; said I, &ldquo;because you do not know the place so well as I
+do.&rdquo; &ldquo;That may be,&rdquo; said he; &ldquo;and yet I believe, as
+well as you know it, you would do the same, unless it is because, as you told
+me, you have a mother there.&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+I told him, as to my mother, it was next to impossible but that she must be
+dead many years before; and as for any other relations that I might have there,
+I knew them not now; that since the misfortunes I had been under had reduced me
+to the condition I had been in for some years, I had not kept up any
+correspondence with them; and that he would easily believe, I should find but a
+cold reception from them if I should be put to make my first visit in the
+condition of a transported felon; that therefore, if I went thither, I resolved
+not to see them; but that I had many views in going there, if it should be my
+fate, which took off all the uneasy part of it; and if he found himself obliged
+to go also, I should easily instruct him how to manage himself, so as never to
+go a servant at all, especially since I found he was not destitute of money,
+which was the only friend in such a condition.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+He smiled, and said he did not tell me he had money. I took him up short, and
+told him I hoped he did not understand by my speaking, that I should expect any
+supply from him if he had money; that, on the other hand, though I had not a
+great deal, yet I did not want, and while I had any I would rather add to him
+than weaken him in that article, seeing, whatever he had, I knew in the case of
+transportation he would have occasion of it all.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+He expressed himself in a most tender manner upon that head. He told me what
+money he had was not a great deal, but that he would never hide any of it from
+me if I wanted it, and that he assured me he did not speak with any such
+apprehensions; that he was only intent upon what I had hinted to him before he
+went; that here he knew what to do with himself, but that there he should be
+the most ignorant, helpless wretch alive.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+I told him he frighted and terrified himself with that which had no terror in
+it; that if he had money, as I was glad to hear he had, he might not only avoid
+the servitude supposed to be the consequence of transportation, but begin the
+world upon a new foundation, and that such a one as he could not fail of
+success in, with the common application usual in such cases; that he could not
+but call to mind that it was what I had recommended to him many years before
+and had proposed it for our mutual subsistence and restoring our fortunes in
+the world; and I would tell him now, that to convince him both of the certainty
+of it and of my being fully acquainted with the method, and also fully
+satisfied in the probability of success, he should first see me deliver myself
+from the necessity of going over at all, and then that I would go with him
+freely, and of my own choice, and perhaps carry enough with me to satisfy him
+that I did not offer it for want of being able to live without assistance from
+him, but that I thought our mutual misfortunes had been such as were sufficient
+to reconcile us both to quitting this part of the world, and living where
+nobody could upbraid us with what was past, or we be in any dread of a prison,
+and without agonies of a condemned hole to drive us to it; this where we should
+look back on all our past disasters with infinite satisfaction, when we should
+consider that our enemies should entirely forget us, and that we should live as
+new people in a new world, nobody having anything to say to us, or we to them.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+I pressed this home to him with so many arguments, and answered all his own
+passionate objections so effectually that he embraced me, and told me I treated
+him with such sincerity and affection as overcame him; that he would take my
+advice, and would strive to submit to his fate in hope of having the comfort of
+my assistance, and of so faithful a counsellor and such a companion in his
+misery. But still he put me in mind of what I had mentioned before, namely,
+that there might be some way to get off before he went, and that it might be
+possible to avoid going at all, which he said would be much better. I told him
+he should see, and be fully satisfied, that I would do my utmost in that part
+too, and if it did not succeed, yet that I would make good the rest.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+We parted after this long conference with such testimonies of kindness and
+affection as I thought were equal, if not superior, to that at our parting at
+Dunstable; and now I saw more plainly than before, the reason why he declined
+coming at that time any farther with me toward London than Dunstable, and why,
+when we parted there, he told me it was not convenient for him to come part of
+the way to London to bring me going, as he would otherwise have done. I have
+observed that the account of his life would have made a much more pleasing
+history than this of mine; and, indeed, nothing in it was more strange than
+this part, viz. that he carried on that desperate trade full five-and-twenty
+years and had never been taken, the success he had met with had been so very
+uncommon, and such that sometimes he had lived handsomely, and retired in place
+for a year or two at a time, keeping himself and a man-servant to wait on him,
+and had often sat in the coffee-houses and heard the very people whom he had
+robbed give accounts of their being robbed, and of the place and circumstances,
+so that he could easily remember that it was the same.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+In this manner, it seems, he lived near Liverpool at the time he unluckily
+married me for a fortune. Had I been the fortune he expected, I verily believe,
+as he said, that he would have taken up and lived honestly all his days.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+He had with the rest of his misfortunes the good luck not to be actually upon
+the spot when the robbery was done which he was committed for, and so none of
+the persons robbed could swear to him, or had anything to charge upon him. But
+it seems as he was taken with the gang, one hard-mouthed countryman swore home
+to him, and they were like to have others come in according to the publication
+they had made; so that they expected more evidence against him, and for that
+reason he was kept in hold.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+However, the offer which was made to him of admitting him to transportation was
+made, as I understood, upon the intercession of some great person who pressed
+him hard to accept of it before a trial; and indeed, as he knew there were
+several that might come in against him, I thought his friend was in the right,
+and I lay at him night and day to delay it no longer.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+At last, with much difficulty, he gave his consent; and as he was not therefore
+admitted to transportation in court, and on his petition, as I was, so he found
+himself under a difficulty to avoid embarking himself as I had said he might
+have done; his great friend, who was his intercessor for the favour of that
+grant, having given security for him that he should transport himself, and not
+return within the term.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+This hardship broke all my measures, for the steps I took afterwards for my own
+deliverance were hereby rendered wholly ineffectual, unless I would abandon
+him, and leave him to go to America by himself; than which he protested he
+would much rather venture, although he were certain to go directly to the
+gallows.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+I must now return to my case. The time of my being transported according to my
+sentence was near at hand; my governess, who continued my fast friend, had
+tried to obtain a pardon, but it could not be done unless with an expense too
+heavy for my purse, considering that to be left naked and empty, unless I had
+resolved to return to my old trade again, had been worse than my
+transportation, because there I knew I could live, here I could not. The good
+minister stood very hard on another account to prevent my being transported
+also; but he was answered, that indeed my life had been given me at his first
+solicitations, and therefore he ought to ask no more. He was sensibly grieved
+at my going, because, as he said, he feared I should lose the good impressions
+which a prospect of death had at first made on me, and which were since
+increased by his instructions; and the pious gentleman was exceedingly
+concerned about me on that account.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+On the other hand, I really was not so solicitous about it as I was before, but
+I industriously concealed my reasons for it from the minister, and to the last
+he did not know but that I went with the utmost reluctance and affliction.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+It was in the month of February that I was, with seven other convicts, as they
+called us, delivered to a merchant that traded to Virginia, on board a ship,
+riding, as they called it, in Deptford Reach. The officer of the prison
+delivered us on board, and the master of the vessel gave a discharge for us.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+We were for that night clapped under hatches, and kept so close that I thought
+I should have been suffocated for want of air; and the next morning the ship
+weighed, and fell down the river to a place they call Bugby&rsquo;s Hole, which
+was done, as they told us, by the agreement of the merchant, that all
+opportunity of escape should be taken from us. However, when the ship came
+thither and cast anchor, we were allowed more liberty, and particularly were
+permitted to come up on the deck, but not up on the quarter-deck, that being
+kept particularly for the captain and for passengers.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+When by the noise of the men over my head, and the motion of the ship, I
+perceived that they were under sail, I was at first greatly surprised, fearing
+we should go away directly, and that our friends would not be admitted to see
+us any more; but I was easy soon after, when I found they had come to an anchor
+again, and soon after that we had notice given by some of the men where we
+were, that the next morning we should have the liberty to come up on deck, and
+to have our friends come and see us if we had any.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+All that night I lay upon the hard boards of the deck, as the passengers did,
+but we had afterwards the liberty of little cabins for such of us as had any
+bedding to lay in them, and room to stow any box or trunk for clothes and
+linen, if we had it (which might well be put in), for some of them had neither
+shirt nor shift or a rag of linen or woollen, but what was on their backs, or a
+farthing of money to help themselves; and yet I did not find but they fared
+well enough in the ship, especially the women, who got money from the seamen
+for washing their clothes, sufficient to purchase any common things that they
+wanted.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+When the next morning we had the liberty to come up on the deck, I asked one of
+the officers of the ship, whether I might not have the liberty to send a letter
+on shore, to let my friends know where the ship lay, and to get some necessary
+things sent to me. This was, it seems, the boatswain, a very civil, courteous
+sort of man, who told me I should have that, or any other liberty that I
+desired, that he could allow me with safety. I told him I desired no other; and
+he answered that the ship&rsquo;s boat would go up to London the next tide, and
+he would order my letter to be carried.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Accordingly, when the boat went off, the boatswain came to me and told me the
+boat was going off, and that he went in it himself, and asked me if my letter
+was ready he would take care of it. I had prepared myself, you may be sure,
+pen, ink, and paper beforehand, and I had gotten a letter ready directed to my
+governess, and enclosed another for my fellow-prisoner, which, however, I did
+not let her know was my husband, not to the last. In that to my governess, I
+let her know where the ship lay, and pressed her earnestly to send me what
+things I knew she had got ready for me for my voyage.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+When I gave the boatswain the letter, I gave him a shilling with it, which I
+told him was for the charge of a messenger or porter, which I entreated him to
+send with the letter as soon as he came on shore, that if possible I might have
+an answer brought back by the same hand, that I might know what was become of
+my things; &ldquo;for sir,&rdquo; says I, &ldquo;if the ship should go away
+before I have them on board, I am undone.&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+I took care, when I gave him the shilling, to let him see that I had a little
+better furniture about me than the ordinary prisoners, for he saw that I had a
+purse, and in it a pretty deal of money; and I found that the very sight of it
+immediately furnished me with very different treatment from what I should
+otherwise have met with in the ship; for though he was very courteous indeed
+before, in a kind of natural compassion to me, as a woman in distress, yet he
+was more than ordinarily so afterwards, and procured me to be better treated in
+the ship than, I say, I might otherwise have been; as shall appear in its
+place.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+He very honestly had my letter delivered to my governess&rsquo;s own hands, and
+brought me back an answer from her in writing; and when he gave me the answer,
+gave me the shilling again. &ldquo;There,&rdquo; says he, &ldquo;there&rsquo;s
+your shilling again too, for I delivered the letter myself.&rdquo; I could not
+tell what to say, I was so surprised at the thing; but after some pause, I
+said, &ldquo;Sir, you are too kind; it had been but reasonable that you had
+paid yourself coach-hire, then.&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;No, no,&rdquo; says he, &ldquo;I am overpaid. What is the gentlewoman?
+Your sister.&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;No, sir,&rdquo; says I, &ldquo;she is no relation to me, but she is a
+dear friend, and all the friends I have in the world.&rdquo;
+&ldquo;Well,&rdquo; says he, &ldquo;there are few such friends in the world.
+Why, she cried after you like a child.&rdquo; &ldquo;Ay,&rdquo; says I again,
+&ldquo;she would give a hundred pounds, I believe, to deliver me from this
+dreadful condition I am in.&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;Would she so?&rdquo; says he. &ldquo;For half the money I believe I
+could put you in a way how to deliver yourself.&rdquo; But this he spoke
+softly, that nobody could hear.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;Alas! sir,&rdquo; said I, &ldquo;but then that must be such a
+deliverance as, if I should be taken again, would cost me my life.&rdquo;
+&ldquo;Nay,&rdquo; said he, &ldquo;if you were once out of the ship, you must
+look to yourself afterwards; that I can say nothing to.&rdquo; So we dropped
+the discourse for that time.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+In the meantime, my governess, faithful to the last moment, conveyed my letter
+to the prison to my husband, and got an answer to it, and the next day came
+down herself to the ship, bringing me, in the first place, a sea-bed as they
+call it, and all its furniture, such as was convenient, but not to let the
+people think it was extraordinary. She brought with her a sea-chest&mdash;that
+is, a chest, such as are made for seamen, with all the conveniences in it, and
+filled with everything almost that I could want; and in one of the corners of
+the chest, where there was a private drawer, was my bank of money&mdash;this is
+to say, so much of it as I had resolved to carry with me; for I ordered a part
+of my stock to be left behind me, to be sent afterwards in such goods as I
+should want when I came to settle; for money in that country is not of much use
+where all things are brought for tobacco, much more is it a great loss to carry
+it from hence.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+But my case was particular; it was by no means proper to me to go thither
+without money or goods, and for a poor convict, that was to be sold as soon as
+I came on shore, to carry with me a cargo of goods would be to have notice
+taken of it, and perhaps to have them seized by the public; so I took part of
+my stock with me thus, and left the other part with my governess.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+My governess brought me a great many other things, but it was not proper for me
+to look too well provided in the ship, at least till I knew what kind of a
+captain we should have. When she came into the ship, I thought she would have
+died indeed; her heart sank at the sight of me, and at the thoughts of parting
+with me in that condition, and she cried so intolerably, I could not for a long
+time have any talk with her.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+I took that time to read my fellow-prisoner&rsquo;s letter, which, however,
+greatly perplexed me. He told me he was determined to go, but found it would be
+impossible for him to be discharged time enough for going in the same ship, and
+which was more than all, he began to question whether they would give him leave
+to go in what ship he pleased, though he did voluntarily transport himself; but
+that they would see him put on board such a ship as they should direct, and
+that he would be charged upon the captain as other convict prisoners were; so
+that he began to be in despair of seeing me till he came to Virginia, which
+made him almost desperate; seeing that, on the other hand, if I should not be
+there, if any accident of the sea or of mortality should take me away, he
+should be the most undone creature there in the world.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+This was very perplexing, and I knew not what course to take. I told my
+governess the story of the boatswain, and she was mighty eager with me treat
+with him; but I had no mind to it, till I heard whether my husband, or
+fellow-prisoner, so she called him, could be at liberty to go with me or no. At
+last I was forced to let her into the whole matter, except only that of his
+being my husband. I told her I had made a positive bargain or agreement with
+him to go, if he could get the liberty of going in the same ship, and that I
+found he had money.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Then I read a long lecture to her of what I proposed to do when we came there,
+how we could plant, settle, and, in short, grow rich without any more
+adventures; and, as a great secret, I told her that we were to marry as soon as
+he came on board.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+She soon agreed cheerfully to my going when she heard this, and she made it her
+business from that time to get him out of the prison in time, so that he might
+go in the same ship with me, which at last was brought to pass, though with
+great difficulty, and not without all the forms of a transported
+prisoner-convict, which he really was not yet, for he had not been tried, and
+which was a great mortification to him. As our fate was now determined, and we
+were both on board, actually bound to Virginia, in the despicable quality of
+transported convicts destined to be sold for slaves, I for five years, and he
+under bonds and security not to return to England any more, as long as he
+lived, he was very much dejected and cast down; the mortification of being
+brought on board, as he was, like a prisoner, piqued him very much, since it
+was first told him he should transport himself, and so that he might go as a
+gentleman at liberty. It is true he was not ordered to be sold when he came
+there, as we were, and for that reason he was obliged to pay for his passage to
+the captain, which we were not; as to the rest, he was as much at a loss as a
+child what to do with himself, or with what he had, but by directions.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Our first business was to compare our stock. He was very honest to me, and told
+me his stock was pretty good when he came into the prison, but the living there
+as he did in a figure like a gentleman, and, which was ten times as much, the
+making of friends, and soliciting his case, had been very expensive; and, in a
+word, all his stock that he had left was &pound;108, which he had about him all
+in gold.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+I gave him an account of my stock as faithfully, that is to say, of what I had
+taken to carry with me, for I was resolved, whatever should happen, to keep
+what I had left with my governess in reserve; that in case I should die, what I
+had with me was enough to give him, and that which was left in my
+governess&rsquo;s hands would be her own, which she had well deserved of me
+indeed.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+My stock which I had with me was &pound;246 some odd shillings; so that we had
+&pound;354 between us, but a worse gotten estate was scarce ever put together
+to begin the world with.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Our greatest misfortune as to our stock was that it was all in money, which
+every one knows is an unprofitable cargo to be carried to the plantations. I
+believe his was really all he had left in the world, as he told me it was; but
+I, who had between &pound;700 and &pound;800 in bank when this disaster befell
+me, and who had one of the faithfullest friends in the world to manage it for
+me, considering she was a woman of manner of religious principles, had still
+&pound;300 left in her hand, which I reserved as above; besides, some very
+valuable things, as particularly two gold watches, some small pieces of plate,
+and some rings&mdash;all stolen goods. The plate, rings, and watches were put
+in my chest with the money, and with this fortune, and in the sixty-first year
+of my age, I launched out into a new world, as I may call it, in the condition
+(as to what appeared) only of a poor, naked convict, ordered to be transported
+in respite from the gallows. My clothes were poor and mean, but not ragged or
+dirty, and none knew in the whole ship that I had anything of value about me.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+However, as I had a great many very good clothes and linen in abundance, which
+I had ordered to be packed up in two great boxes, I had them shipped on board,
+not as my goods, but as consigned to my real name in Virginia; and had the
+bills of loading signed by a captain in my pocket; and in these boxes was my
+plate and watches, and everything of value except my money, which I kept by
+itself in a private drawer in my chest, which could not be found, or opened, if
+found, without splitting the chest to pieces.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+In this condition I lay for three weeks in the ship, not knowing whether I
+should have my husband with me or no, and therefore not resolving how or in
+what manner to receive the honest boatswain&rsquo;s proposal, which indeed he
+thought a little strange at first.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+At the end of this time, behold my husband came on board. He looked with a
+dejected, angry countenance, his great heart was swelled with rage and disdain;
+to be dragged along with three keepers of Newgate, and put on board like a
+convict, when he had not so much as been brought to a trial. He made loud
+complaints of it by his friends, for it seems he had some interest; but his
+friends got some check in their application, and were told he had had favour
+enough, and that they had received such an account of him, since the last grant
+of his transportation, that he ought to think himself very well treated that he
+was not prosecuted anew. This answer quieted him at once, for he knew too much
+what might have happened, and what he had room to expect; and now he saw the
+goodness of the advice to him, which prevailed with him to accept of the offer
+of a voluntary transportation. And after this his chagrin at these hell-hounds,
+as he called them, was a little over, he looked a little composed, began to be
+cheerful, and as I was telling him how glad I was to have him once more out of
+their hands, he took me in his arms, and acknowledged with great tenderness
+that I had given him the best advice possible. &ldquo;My dear,&rdquo; says he,
+&ldquo;thou has twice saved my life; from henceforward it shall be all employed
+for you, and I&rsquo;ll always take your advice.&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+The ship began now to fill; several passengers came on board, who were embarked
+on no criminal account, and these had accommodations assigned them in the great
+cabin, and other parts of the ship, whereas we, as convicts, were thrust down
+below, I know not where. But when my husband came on board, I spoke to the
+boatswain, who had so early given me hints of his friendship in carrying my
+letter. I told him he had befriended me in many things, and I had not made any
+suitable return to him, and with that I put a guinea into his hand. I told him
+that my husband was now come on board; that though we were both under the
+present misfortune, yet we had been persons of a different character from the
+wretched crew that we came with, and desired to know of him, whether the
+captain might not be moved to admit us to some conveniences in the ship, for
+which we would make him what satisfaction he pleased, and that we would gratify
+him for his pains in procuring this for us. He took the guinea, as I could see,
+with great satisfaction, and assured me of his assistance.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Then he told us he did not doubt but that the captain, who was one of the
+best-humoured gentlemen in the world, would be easily brought to accommodate us
+as well as we could desire, and, to make me easy, told me he would go up the
+next tide on purpose to speak to the captain about it. The next morning,
+happening to sleep a little longer than ordinary, when I got up, and began to
+look abroad, I saw the boatswain among the men in his ordinary business. I was
+a little melancholy at seeing him there, and going forward to speak to him, he
+saw me, and came towards me, but not giving him time to speak first, I said,
+smiling, &ldquo;I doubt, sir, you have forgot us, for I see you are very
+busy.&rdquo; He returned presently, &ldquo;Come along with me, and you shall
+see.&rdquo; So he took me into the great cabin, and there sat a good sort of a
+gentlemanly man for a seaman, writing, and with a great many papers before him.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+&ldquo;Here,&rdquo; says the boatswain to him that was a-writing, &ldquo;is the
+gentlewoman that the captain spoke to you of&rdquo;; and turning to me, he
+said, &ldquo;I have been so far from forgetting your business, that I have been
+up at the captain&rsquo;s house, and have represented faithfully to the captain
+what you said, relating to you being furnished with better conveniences for
+yourself and your husband; and the captain has sent this gentleman, who is mate
+of the ship, down with me, on purpose to show you everything, and to
+accommodate you fully to your content, and bid me assure you that you shall not
+be treated like what you were at first expected to be, but with the same
+respect as other passengers are treated.&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+The mate then spoke to me, and, not giving me time to thank the boatswain for
+his kindness, confirmed what the boatswain had said, and added that it was the
+captain&rsquo;s delight to show himself kind and charitable, especially to
+those that were under any misfortunes, and with that he showed me several
+cabins built up, some in the great cabin, and some partitioned off, out of the
+steerage, but opening into the great cabin on purpose for the accommodation of
+passengers, and gave me leave to choose where I would. However, I chose a cabin
+which opened into the steerage, in which was very good conveniences to set our
+chest and boxes, and a table to eat on.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+The mate then told me that the boatswain had given so good a character of me
+and my husband, as to our civil behaviour, that he had orders to tell me we
+should eat with him, if we thought fit, during the whole voyage, on the common
+terms of passengers; that we might lay in some fresh provisions, if we pleased;
+or if not, he should lay in his usual store, and we should have share with him.
+This was very reviving news to me, after so many hardships and afflictions as I
+had gone through of late. I thanked him, and told him the captain should make
+his own terms with us, and asked him leave to go and tell my husband of it, who
+was not very well, and was not yet out of his cabin. Accordingly I went, and my
+husband, whose spirits were still so much sunk with the indignity (as he
+understood it) offered him, that he was scared yet himself, was so revived with
+the account that I gave him of the reception we were like to have in the ship,
+that he was quite another man, and new vigour and courage appeared in his very
+countenance. So true is it, that the greatest of spirits, when overwhelmed by
+their afflictions, are subject to the greatest dejections, and are the most apt
+to despair and give themselves up.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+After some little pause to recover himself, my husband came up with me, and
+gave the mate thanks for the kindness, which he had expressed to us, and sent
+suitable acknowledgment by him to the captain, offering to pay him by advance,
+whatever he demanded for our passage, and for the conveniences he had helped us
+to. The mate told him that the captain would be on board in the afternoon, and
+that he would leave all that till he came. Accordingly, in the afternoon the
+captain came, and we found him the same courteous, obliging man that the
+boatswain had represented him to be; and he was so well pleased with my
+husband&rsquo;s conversation, that, in short, he would not let us keep the
+cabin we had chosen, but gave us one that, as I said before, opened into the
+great cabin.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Nor were his conditions exorbitant, or the man craving and eager to make a prey
+of us, but for fifteen guineas we had our whole passage and provisions and
+cabin, ate at the captain&rsquo;s table, and were very handsomely entertained.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+The captain lay himself in the other part of the great cabin, having let his
+round house, as they call it, to a rich planter who went over with his wife and
+three children, who ate by themselves. He had some other ordinary passengers,
+who quartered in the steerage, and as for our old fraternity, they were kept
+under the hatches while the ship lay there, and came very little on the deck.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+I could not refrain acquainting my governess with what had happened; it was but
+just that she, who was so really concerned for me, should have part in my good
+fortune. Besides, I wanted her assistance to supply me with several
+necessaries, which before I was shy of letting anybody see me have, that it
+might not be public; but now I had a cabin and room to set things in, I ordered
+abundance of good things for our comfort in the voyage, as brandy, sugar,
+lemons, etc., to make punch, and treat our benefactor, the captain; and
+abundance of things for eating and drinking in the voyage; also a larger bed,
+and bedding proportioned to it; so that, in a word, we resolved to want for
+nothing in the voyage.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+All this while I had provided nothing for our assistance when we should come to
+the place and begin to call ourselves planters; and I was far from being
+ignorant of what was needful on that occasion; particularly all sorts of tools
+for the planter&rsquo;s work, and for building; and all kinds of furniture for
+our dwelling, which, if to be bought in the country, must necessarily cost
+double the price.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+So I discoursed that point with my governess, and she went and waited upon the
+captain, and told him that she hoped ways might be found out for her two
+unfortunate cousins, as she called us, to obtain our freedom when we came into
+the country, and so entered into a discourse with him about the means and terms
+also, of which I shall say more in its place; and after thus sounding the
+captain, she let him know, though we were unhappy in the circumstances that
+occasioned our going, yet that we were not unfurnished to set ourselves to work
+in the country, and we resolved to settle and live there as planters, if we
+might be put in a way how to do it. The captain readily offered his assistance,
+told her the method of entering upon such business, and how easy, nay, how
+certain it was for industrious people to recover their fortunes in such a
+manner. &ldquo;Madam,&rdquo; says he, &ldquo;&rsquo;tis no reproach to any many
+in that country to have been sent over in worse circumstances than I perceive
+your cousins are in, provided they do but apply with diligence and good
+judgment to the business of that place when they come there.&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+She then inquired of him what things it was necessary we should carry over with
+us, and he, like a very honest as well as knowing man, told her thus:
+&ldquo;Madam, your cousins in the first place must procure somebody to buy them
+as servants, in conformity to the conditions of their transportation, and then,
+in the name of that person, they may go about what they will; they may either
+purchase some plantations already begun, or they may purchase land of the
+Government of the country, and begin where they please, and both will be done
+reasonably.&rdquo; She bespoke his favour in the first article, which he
+promised to her to take upon himself, and indeed faithfully performed it, and
+as to the rest, he promised to recommend us to such as should give us the best
+advice, and not to impose upon us, which was as much as could be desired.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+She then asked him if it would not be necessary to furnish us with a stock of
+tools and materials for the business of planting, and he said, &ldquo;Yes, by
+all means.&rdquo; And then she begged his assistance in it. She told him she
+would furnish us with everything that was convenient whatever it cost her. He
+accordingly gave her a long particular of things necessary for a planter,
+which, by his account, came to about fourscore or a hundred pounds. And, in
+short, she went about as dexterously to buy them, as if she had been an old
+Virginia merchant; only that she bought, by my direction, above twice as much
+of everything as he had given her a list of.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+These she put on board in her own name, took his bills of loading for them, and
+endorsed those bills of loading to my husband, insuring the cargo afterwards in
+her own name, by our order; so that we were provided for all events, and for
+all disasters.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+I should have told you that my husband gave her all his whole stock of
+&pound;108, which, as I have said, he had about him in gold, to lay out thus,
+and I gave her a good sum besides; so that I did not break into the stock which
+I had left in her hands at all, but after we had sorted out our whole cargo, we
+had yet near &pound;200 in money, which was more than enough for our purpose.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+In this condition, very cheerful, and indeed joyful at being so happily
+accommodated as we were, we set sail from Bugby&rsquo;s Hole to Gravesend,
+where the ship lay about ten more days, and where the captain came on board for
+good and all. Here the captain offered us a civility, which indeed we had no
+reason to expect, namely, to let us go on shore and refresh ourselves, upon
+giving our words in a solemn manner that we would not go from him, and that we
+would return peaceably on board again. This was such an evidence of his
+confidence in us, that it overcame my husband, who, in a mere principle of
+gratitude, told him, as he could not be in any capacity to make a suitable
+return for such a favour, so he could not think of accepting of it, nor could
+he be easy that the captain should run such a risk. After some mutual
+civilities, I gave my husband a purse, in which was eighty guineas, and he put
+in into the captain&rsquo;s hand. &ldquo;There, captain,&rdquo; says he,
+&ldquo;there&rsquo;s part of a pledge for our fidelity; if we deal dishonestly
+with you on any account, &rsquo;tis your own.&rdquo; And on this we went on
+shore.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Indeed, the captain had assurance enough of our resolutions to go, for that
+having made such provision to settle there, it did not seem rational that we
+would choose to remain here at the expense and peril of life, for such it must
+have been if we had been taken again. In a word, we went all on shore with the
+captain, and supped together in Gravesend, where we were very merry, stayed all
+night, lay at the house where we supped, and came all very honestly on board
+again with him in the morning. Here we bought ten dozen bottles of good beer,
+some wine, some fowls, and such things as we thought might be acceptable on
+board.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+My governess was with us all this while, and went with us round into the Downs,
+as did also the captain&rsquo;s wife, with whom she went back. I was never so
+sorrowful at parting with my own mother as I was at parting with her, and I
+never saw her more. We had a fair easterly wind sprung up the third day after
+we came to the Downs, and we sailed from thence the 10th of April. Nor did we
+touch any more at any place, till, being driven on the coast of Ireland by a
+very hard gale of wind, the ship came to an anchor in a little bay, near the
+mouth of a river, whose name I remember not, but they said the river came down
+from Limerick, and that it was the largest river in Ireland.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Here, being detained by bad weather for some time, the captain, who continued
+the same kind, good-humoured man as at first, took us two on shore with him
+again. He did it now in kindness to my husband indeed, who bore the sea very
+ill, and was very sick, especially when it blew so hard. Here we bought in
+again a store of fresh provisions, especially beef, pork, mutton, and fowls,
+and the captain stayed to pickle up five or six barrels of beef to lengthen out
+the ship&rsquo;s store. We were here not above five days, when the weather
+turning mild, and a fair wind, we set sail again, and in two-and-forty days
+came safe to the coast of Virginia.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+When we drew near to the shore, the captain called me to him, and told me that
+he found by my discourse I had some relations in the place, and that I had been
+there before, and so he supposed I understood the custom in their disposing the
+convict prisoners when they arrived. I told him I did not, and that as to what
+relations I had in the place, he might be sure I would make myself known to
+none of them while I was in the circumstances of a prisoner, and that as to the
+rest, we left ourselves entirely to him to assist us, as he was pleased to
+promise us he would do. He told me I must get somebody in the place to come and
+buy us as servants, and who must answer for us to the governor of the country,
+if he demanded us. I told him we should do as he should direct; so he brought a
+planter to treat with him, as it were, for the purchase of these two servants,
+my husband and me, and there we were formally sold to him, and went ashore with
+him. The captain went with us, and carried us to a certain house, whether it
+was to be called a tavern or not I know not, but we had a bowl of punch there
+made of rum, etc., and were very merry. After some time the planter gave us a
+certificate of discharge, and an acknowledgment of having served him
+faithfully, and we were free from him the next morning, to go wither we would.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+For this piece of service the captain demanded of us six thousand weight of
+tabacco, which he said he was accountable for to his freighter, and which we
+immediately bought for him, and made him a present of twenty guineas besides,
+with which he was abundantly satisfied.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+It is not proper to enter here into the particulars of what part of the colony
+of Virginia we settled in, for divers reasons; it may suffice to mention that
+we went into the great river Potomac, the ship being bound thither; and there
+we intended to have settled first, though afterwards we altered our minds.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+The first thing I did of moment after having gotten all our goods on shore, and
+placed them in a storehouse, or warehouse, which, with a lodging, we hired at
+the small place or village where we landed&mdash;I say, the first thing was to
+inquire after my mother, and after my brother (that fatal person whom I married
+as a husband, as I have related at large). A little inquiry furnished me with
+information that Mrs. &mdash;&mdash;, that is, my mother, was dead; that my
+brother (or husband) was alive, which I confess I was not very glad to hear;
+but which was worse, I found he was removed from the plantation where he lived
+formerly, and where I lived with him, and lived with one of his sons in a
+plantation just by the place where we landed, and where we had hired a
+warehouse.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+I was a little surprised at first, but as I ventured to satisfy myself that he
+could not know me, I was not only perfectly easy, but had a great mind to see
+him, if it was possible to so do without his seeing me. In order to that I
+found out by inquiry the plantation where he lived, and with a woman of that
+place whom I got to help me, like what we call a chairwoman, I rambled about
+towards the place as if I had only a mind to see the country and look about me.
+At last I came so near that I saw the dwellinghouse. I asked the woman whose
+plantation that was; she said it belonged to such a man, and looking out a
+little to our right hands, &ldquo;there,&rdquo; says she, &ldquo;is the gentleman that
+owns the plantation, and his father with him.&rdquo; &ldquo;What are their
+Christian names?&rdquo; said I. &ldquo;I know not,&rdquo; says she, &ldquo;what
+the old gentleman&rsquo;s name is, but the son&rsquo;s name is Humphrey; and I
+believe,&rdquo; says she, &ldquo;the father&rsquo;s is so too.&rdquo; You may
+guess, if you can, what a confused mixture of joy and fight possessed my
+thoughts upon this occasion, for I immediately knew that this was nobody else
+but my own son, by that father she showed me, who was my own brother. I had no
+mask, but I ruffled my hood so about my face, that I depended upon it that
+after above twenty years&rsquo; absence, and withal not expecting anything of
+me in that part of the world, he would not be able to know anything of me. But
+I need not have used all that caution, for the old gentleman was grown
+dim-sighted by some distemper which had fallen upon his eyes, and could but
+just see well enough to walk about, and not run against a tree or into a ditch.
+The woman that was with me had told me that by a mere accident, knowing nothing
+of what importance it was to me. As they drew near to us, I said, &ldquo;Does
+he know you, Mrs. Owen?&rdquo; (so they called the woman). &ldquo;Yes,&rdquo;
+said she, &ldquo;if he hears me speak, he will know me; but he can&rsquo;t see
+well enough to know me or anybody else&rdquo;; and so she told me the story of
+his sight, as I have related. This made me secure, and so I threw open my hoods
+again, and let them pass by me. It was a wretched thing for a mother thus to
+see her own son, a handsome, comely young gentleman in flourishing
+circumstances, and durst not make herself known to him, and durst not take any
+notice of him. Let any mother of children that reads this consider it, and but
+think with what anguish of mind I restrained myself; what yearnings of soul I
+had in me to embrace him, and weep over him; and how I thought all my entrails
+turned within me, that my very bowels moved, and I knew not what to do, as I
+now know not how to express those agonies! When he went from me I stood gazing
+and trembling, and looking after him as long as I could see him; then sitting
+down to rest me, but turned from her, and lying on my face, wept, and kissed
+the ground that he had set his foot on.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+I could not conceal my disorder so much from the woman but that she perceived
+it, and thought I was not well, which I was obliged to pretend was true; upon
+which she pressed me to rise, the ground being damp and dangerous, which I did
+accordingly, and walked away.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+As I was going back again, and still talking of this gentleman and his son, a
+new occasion of melancholy offered itself thus. The woman began, as if she
+would tell me a story to divert me: &ldquo;There goes,&rdquo; says she,
+&ldquo;a very odd tale among the neighbours where this gentleman formerly
+live.&rdquo; &ldquo;What was that?&rdquo; said I. &ldquo;Why,&rdquo; says she,
+&ldquo;that old gentleman going to England, when he was a young man, fell in
+love with a young lady there, one of the finest women that ever was seen, and
+married her, and brought her over hither to his mother who was then living. He
+lived here several years with her,&rdquo; continued she, &ldquo;and had several
+children by her, of which the young gentleman that was with him now was one;
+but after some time, the old gentlewoman, his mother, talking to her of
+something relating to herself when she was in England, and of her circumstances
+in England, which were bad enough, the daughter-in-law began to be very much
+surprised and uneasy; and, in short, examining further into things, it appeared
+past all contradiction that the old gentlewoman was her own mother, and that
+consequently that son was his wife&rsquo;s own brother, which struck the whole
+family with horror, and put them into such confusion that it had almost ruined
+them all. The young woman would not live with him; the son, her brother and
+husband, for a time went distracted; and at last the young woman went away for
+England, and has never been heard of since.&rdquo;
+</p>
+
+<p>
+It is easy to believe that I was strangely affected with this story, but
+&rsquo;tis impossible to describe the nature of my disturbance. I seemed
+astonished at the story, and asked her a thousand questions about the
+particulars, which I found she was thoroughly acquainted with. At last I began
+to inquire into the circumstances of the family, how the old gentlewoman, I
+mean my mother, died, and how she left what she had; for my mother had promised
+me very solemnly, that when she died she would do something for me, and leave
+it so, as that, if I was living, I should one way or other come at it, without
+its being in the power of her son, my brother and husband, to prevent it. She
+told me she did not know exactly how it was ordered, but she had been told that
+my mother had left a sum of money, and had tied her plantation for the payment
+of it, to be made good to the daughter, if ever she could be heard of, either
+in England or elsewhere; and that the trust was left with this son, who was the
+person that we saw with his father.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+This was news too good for me to make light of, and, you may be sure, filled my
+heart with a thousand thoughts, what course I should take, how, and when, and
+in what manner I should make myself known, or whether I should ever make myself
+know or no.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Here was a perplexity that I had not indeed skill to manage myself in, neither
+knew I what course to take. It lay heavy upon my mind night and day. I could
+neither sleep nor converse, so that my husband perceived it, and wondered what
+ailed me, strove to divert me, but it was all to no purpose. He pressed me to
+tell him what it was troubled me, but I put it off, till at last, importuning
+me continually, I was forced to form a story, which yet had a plain truth to
+lay it upon too. I told him I was troubled because I found we must shift our
+quarters and alter our scheme of settling, for that I found I should be known
+if I stayed in that part of the country; for that my mother being dead, several
+of my relations were come into that part where we then was, and that I must
+either discover myself to them, which in our present circumstances was not
+proper on many accounts, or remove; and which to do I knew not, and that this
+it was that made me so melancholy and so thoughtful.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+He joined with me in this, that it was by no means proper for me to make myself
+known to anybody in the circumstances in which we then were; and therefore he
+told me he would be willing to remove to any other part of the country, or even
+to any other country if I thought fit. But now I had another difficulty, which
+was, that if I removed to any other colony, I put myself out of the way of ever
+making a due search after those effects which my mother had left. Again I could
+never so much as think of breaking the secret of my former marriage to my new
+husband; it was not a story, as I thought, that would bear telling, nor could I
+tell what might be the consequences of it; and it was impossible to search into
+the bottom of the thing without making it public all over the country, as well
+who I was, as what I now was also.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+In this perplexity I continued a great while, and this made my spouse very
+uneasy; for he found me perplexed, and yet thought I was not open with him, and
+did not let him into every part of my grievance; and he would often say, he
+wondered what he had done that I would not trust him with whatever it was,
+especially if it was grievous and afflicting. The truth is, he ought to have
+been trusted with everything, for no man in the world could deserve better of a
+wife; but this was a thing I knew not how to open to him, and yet having nobody
+to disclose any part of it to, the burthen was too heavy for my mind; for let
+them say what they please of our sex not being able to keep a secret, my life
+is a plain conviction to me of the contrary; but be it our sex, or the
+man&rsquo;s sex, a secret of moment should always have a confidant, a bosom
+friend, to whom we may communicate the joy of it, or the grief of it, be it
+which it will, or it will be a double weight upon the spirits, and perhaps
+become even insupportable in itself; and this I appeal to all human testimony
+for the truth of.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+And this is the cause why many times men as well as women, and men of the
+greatest and best qualities other ways, yet have found themselves weak in this
+part, and have not been able to bear the weight of a secret joy or of a secret
+sorrow, but have been obliged to disclose it, even for the mere giving vent to
+themselves, and to unbend the mind oppressed with the load and weights which
+attended it. Nor was this any token of folly or thoughtlessness at all, but a
+natural consequence of the thing; and such people, had they struggled longer
+with the oppression, would certainly have told it in their sleep, and disclosed
+the secret, let it have been of what fatal nature soever, without regard to the
+person to whom it might be exposed. This necessity of nature is a thing which
+works sometimes with such vehemence in the minds of those who are guilty of any
+atrocious villainy, such as secret murder in particular, that they have been
+obliged to discover it, though the consequence would necessarily be their own
+destruction. Now, though it may be true that the divine justice ought to have
+the glory of all those discoveries and confessions, yet &rsquo;tis as certain
+that Providence, which ordinarily works by the hands of nature, makes use here
+of the same natural causes to produce those extraordinary effects.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+I could give several remarkable instances of this in my long conversation with
+crime and with criminals. I knew one fellow that, while I was in prison in
+Newgate, was one of those they called then night-fliers. I know not what other
+word they may have understood it by since, but he was one who by connivance was
+admitted to go abroad every evening, when he played his pranks, and furnished
+those honest people they call thief-catchers with business to find out the next
+day, and restore for a reward what they had stolen the evening before. This
+fellow was as sure to tell in his sleep all that he had done, and every step he
+had taken, what he had stolen, and where, as sure as if he had engaged to tell
+it waking, and that there was no harm or danger in it, and therefore he was
+obliged, after he had been out, to lock himself up, or be locked up by some of
+the keepers that had him in fee, that nobody should hear him; but, on the other
+hand, if he had told all the particulars, and given a full account of his
+rambles and success, to any comrade, any brother thief, or to his employers, as
+I may justly call them, then all was well with him, and he slept as quietly as
+other people.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+As the publishing this account of my life is for the sake of the just moral of
+very part of it, and for instruction, caution, warning, and improvement to
+every reader, so this will not pass, I hope, for an unnecessary digression
+concerning some people being obliged to disclose the greatest secrets either of
+their own or other people&rsquo;s affairs.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Under the certain oppression of this weight upon my mind, I laboured in the
+case I have been naming; and the only relief I found for it was to let my
+husband into so much of it as I thought would convince him of the necessity
+there was for us to think of settling in some other part of the world; and the
+next consideration before us was, which part of the English settlements we
+should go to. My husband was a perfect stranger to the country, and had not yet
+so much as a geographical knowledge of the situation of the several places; and
+I, that, till I wrote this, did not know what the word geographical signified,
+had only a general knowledge from long conversation with people that came from
+or went to several places; but this I knew, that Maryland, Pennsylvania, East
+and West Jersey, New York, and New England lay all north of Virginia, and that
+they were consequently all colder climates, to which for that very reason, I
+had an aversion. For that as I naturally loved warm weather, so now I grew into
+years I had a stronger inclination to shun a cold climate. I therefore
+considered of going to Carolina, which is the only southern colony of the
+English on the continent of America, and hither I proposed to go; and the
+rather because I might with great ease come from thence at any time, when it
+might be proper to inquire after my mother&rsquo;s effects, and to make myself
+known enough to demand them.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+With this resolution I proposed to my husband our going away from where we was,
+and carrying all our effects with us to Carolina, where we resolved to settle;
+for my husband readily agreed to the first part, viz. that was not at all
+proper to stay where we was, since I had assured him we should be known there,
+and the rest I effectually concealed from him.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+But now I found a new difficulty upon me. The main affair grew heavy upon my
+mind still, and I could not think of going out of the country without somehow
+or other making inquiry into the grand affair of what my mother had done for
+me; nor could I with any patience bear the thought of going away, and not make
+myself known to my old husband (brother), or to my child, his son; only I would
+fain have had this done without my new husband having any knowledge of it, or
+they having any knowledge of him, or that I had such a thing as a husband.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+I cast about innumerable ways in my thoughts how this might be done. I would
+gladly have sent my husband away to Carolina with all our goods, and have come
+after myself, but this was impracticable; he would never stir without me, being
+himself perfectly unacquainted with the country, and with the methods of
+settling there or anywhere else. Then I thought we would both go first with
+part of our goods, and that when we were settled I should come back to Virginia
+and fetch the remainder; but even then I knew he would never part with me, and
+be left there to go on alone. The case was plain; he was bred a gentleman, and
+by consequence was not only unacquainted, but indolent, and when we did settle,
+would much rather go out into the woods with his gun, which they call there
+hunting, and which is the ordinary work of the Indians, and which they do as
+servants; I say, he would rather do that than attend the natural business of
+his plantation.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+These were therefore difficulties insurmountable, and such as I knew not what
+to do in. I had such strong impressions on my mind about discovering myself to
+my brother, formerly my husband, that I could not withstand them; and the
+rather, because it ran constantly in my thoughts, that if I did not do it while
+he lived, I might in vain endeavour to convince my son afterward that I was
+really the same person, and that I was his mother, and so might both lose the
+assistance and comfort of the relation, and the benefit of whatever it was my
+mother had left me; and yet, on the other hand, I could never think it proper
+to discover myself to them in the circumstances I was in, as well relating to
+the having a husband with me as to my being brought over by a legal
+transportation as a criminal; on both which accounts it was absolutely
+necessary to me to remove from the place where I was, and come again to him, as
+from another place and in another figure.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Upon those considerations, I went on with telling my husband the absolute
+necessity there was of our not settling in Potomac River, at least that we
+should be presently made public there; whereas if we went to any other place in
+the world, we should come in with as much reputation as any family that came to
+plant; that, as it was always agreeable to the inhabitants to have families
+come among them to plant, who brought substance with them, either to purchase
+plantations or begin new ones, so we should be sure of a kind, agreeable
+reception, and that without any possibility of a discovery of our
+circumstances.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+I told him in general, too, that as I had several relations in the place where
+we were, and that I durst not now let myself be known to them, because they
+would soon come into a knowledge of the occasion and reason of my coming over,
+which would be to expose myself to the last degree, so I had reason to believe
+that my mother, who died here, had left me something, and perhaps considerable,
+which it might be very well worth my while to inquire after; but that this too
+could not be done without exposing us publicly, unless we went from hence; and
+then, wherever we settled, I might come, as it were, to visit and to see my
+brother and nephews, make myself known to them, claim and inquire after what
+was my due, be received with respect, and at the same time have justice done me
+with cheerfulness and good will; whereas, if I did it now, I could expect
+nothing but with trouble, such as exacting it by force, receiving it with
+curses and reluctance, and with all kinds of affronts, which he would not
+perhaps bear to see; that in case of being obliged to legal proofs of being
+really her daughter, I might be at loss, be obliged to have recourse to
+England, and it may be to fail at last, and so lose it, whatever it might be.
+With these arguments, and having thus acquainted my husband with the whole
+secret so far as was needful of him, we resolved to go and seek a settlement in
+some other colony, and at first thoughts, Carolina was the place we pitched
+upon.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+In order to this we began to make inquiry for vessels going to Carolina, and in
+a very little while got information, that on the other side the bay, as they
+call it, namely, in Maryland, there was a ship which came from Carolina, laden
+with rice and other goods, and was going back again thither, and from thence to
+Jamaica, with provisions. On this news we hired a sloop to take in our goods,
+and taking, as it were, a final farewell of Potomac River, we went with all our
+cargo over to Maryland.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+This was a long and unpleasant voyage, and my spouse said it was worse to him
+than all the voyage from England, because the weather was but indifferent, the
+water rough, and the vessel small and inconvenient. In the next place, we were
+full a hundred miles up Potomac River, in a part which they call Westmoreland
+County, and as that river is by far the greatest in Virginia, and I have heard
+say it is the greatest river in the world that falls into another river, and
+not directly into the sea, so we had base weather in it, and were frequently in
+great danger; for though we were in the middle, we could not see land on either
+side for many leagues together. Then we had the great river or bay of
+Chesapeake to cross, which is where the river Potomac falls into it, near
+thirty miles broad, and we entered more great vast waters whose names I know
+not, so that our voyage was full two hundred miles, in a poor, sorry sloop,
+with all our treasure, and if any accident had happened to us, we might at last
+have been very miserable; supposing we had lost our goods and saved our lives
+only, and had then been left naked and destitute, and in a wild, strange place
+not having one friend or acquaintance in all that part of the world. The very
+thought of it gives me some horror, even since the danger is past.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Well, we came to the place in five days&rsquo; sailing; I think they call it
+Philip&rsquo;s Point; and behold, when we came thither, the ship bound to
+Carolina was loaded and gone away but three days before. This was a
+disappointment; but, however, I, that was to be discouraged with nothing, told
+my husband that since we could not get passage to Carolina, and that the
+country we was in was very fertile and good, we would, if he liked of it, see
+if we could find out anything for our tune where we was, and that if he liked
+things we would settle here.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+We immediately went on shore, but found no conveniences just at that place,
+either for our being on shore or preserving our goods on shore, but was
+directed by a very honest Quaker, whom we found there, to go to a place about
+sixty miles east; that is to say, nearer the mouth of the bay, where he said he
+lived, and where we should be accommodated, either to plant, or to wait for any
+other place to plant in that might be more convenient; and he invited us with
+so much kindness and simple honesty, that we agreed to go, and the Quaker
+himself went with us.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Here we bought us two servants, viz. an English woman-servant just come on
+shore from a ship of Liverpool, and a Negro man-servant, things absolutely
+necessary for all people that pretended to settle in that country. This honest
+Quaker was very helpful to us, and when we came to the place that he proposed
+to us, found us out a convenient storehouse for our goods, and lodging for
+ourselves and our servants; and about two months or thereabouts afterwards, by
+his direction, we took up a large piece of land from the governor of that
+country, in order to form our plantation, and so we laid the thoughts of going
+to Carolina wholly aside, having been very well received here, and accommodated
+with a convenient lodging till we could prepare things, and have land enough
+cleared, and timber and materials provided for building us a house, all which
+we managed by the direction of the Quaker; so that in one year&rsquo;s time we
+had nearly fifty acres of land cleared, part of it enclosed, and some of it
+planted with tabacco, though not much; besides, we had garden ground and corn
+sufficient to help supply our servants with roots and herbs and bread.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+And now I persuaded my husband to let me go over the bay again, and inquire
+after my friends. He was the willinger to consent to it now, because he had
+business upon his hands sufficient to employ him, besides his gun to divert
+him, which they call hunting there, and which he greatly delighted in; and
+indeed we used to look at one another, sometimes with a great deal of pleasure,
+reflecting how much better that was, not than Newgate only, but than the most
+prosperous of our circumstances in the wicked trade that we had been both
+carrying on.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Our affair was in a very good posture; we purchased of the proprietors of the
+colony as much land for &pound;35, paid in ready money, as would make a
+sufficient plantation to employ between fifty and sixty servants, and which,
+being well improved, would be sufficient to us as long as we could either of us
+live; and as for children, I was past the prospect of anything of that kind.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+But out good fortune did not end here. I went, as I have said, over the bay, to
+the place where my brother, once a husband, lived; but I did not go to the same
+village where I was before, but went up another great river, on the east side
+of the river Potomac, called Rappahannock River, and by this means came on the
+back of his plantation, which was large, and by the help of a navigable creek,
+or little river, that ran into the Rappahannock, I came very near it.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+I was now fully resolved to go up point-blank to my brother (husband), and to
+tell him who I was; but not knowing what temper I might find him in, or how
+much out of temper rather, I might make him by such a rash visit, I resolved to
+write a letter to him first, to let him know who I was, and that I was come not
+to give him any trouble upon the old relation, which I hoped was entirely
+forgot, but that I applied to him as a sister to a brother, desiring his
+assistance in the case of that provision which our mother, at her decease, had
+left for my support, and which I did not doubt but he would do me justice in,
+especially considering that I was come thus far to look after it.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+I said some very tender, kind things in the letter about his son, which I told
+him he knew to be my own child, and that as I was guilty of nothing in marrying
+him, any more than he was in marrying me, neither of us having then known our
+being at all related to one another, so I hoped he would allow me the most
+passionate desire of once seeing my one and only child, and of showing
+something of the infirmities of a mother in preserving a violent affect for
+him, who had never been able to retain any thought of me one way or other.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+I did believe that, having received this letter, he would immediately give it
+to his son to read, I having understood his eyes being so dim, that he could
+not see to read it; but it fell out better than so, for as his sight was dim,
+so he had allowed his son to open all letters that came to his hand for him,
+and the old gentleman being from home, or out of the way when my messenger
+came, my letter came directly to my son&rsquo;s hand, and he opened and read
+it.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+He called the messenger in, after some little stay, and asked him where the
+person was who gave him the letter. The messenger told him the place, which was
+about seven miles off, so he bid him stay, and ordering a horse to be got
+ready, and two servants, away he came to me with the messenger. Let any one
+judge the consternation I was in when my messenger came back, and told me the
+old gentleman was not at home, but his son was come along with him, and was
+just coming up to me. I was perfectly confounded, for I knew not whether it was
+peace or war, nor could I tell how to behave; however, I had but a very few
+moments to think, for my son was at the heels of the messenger, and coming up
+into my lodgings, asked the fellow at the door something. I suppose it was, for
+I did not hear it so as to understand it, which was the gentlewoman that sent
+him; for the messenger said, &ldquo;There she is, sir&rdquo;; at which he comes
+directly up to me, kisses me, took me in his arms, and embraced me with so much
+passion that he could not speak, but I could feel his breast heave and throb
+like a child, that cries, but sobs, and cannot cry it out.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+I can neither express nor describe the joy that touched my very soul when I
+found, for it was easy to discover that part, that he came not as a stranger,
+but as a son to a mother, and indeed as a son who had never before known what a
+mother of his own was; in short, we cried over one another a considerable
+while, when at last he broke out first. &ldquo;My dear mother,&rdquo; says he,
+&ldquo;are you still alive? I never expected to have seen your face.&rdquo; As
+for me, I could say nothing a great while.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+After we had both recovered ourselves a little, and were able to talk, he told
+me how things stood. As to what I had written to his father, he told me he had
+not showed my letter to his father, or told him anything about it; that what
+his grandmother left me was in his hands, and that he would do me justice to my
+full satisfaction; that as to his father, he was old and infirm both in body
+and mind; that he was very fretful and passionate, almost blind, and capable of
+nothing; and he questioned whether he would know how to act in an affair which
+was of so nice a nature as this; and that therefore he had come himself, as
+well to satisfy himself in seeing me, which he could not restrain himself from,
+as also to put it into my power to make a judgment, after I had seen how things
+were, whether I would discover myself to his father or no.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+This was really so prudently and wisely managed, that I found my son was a man
+of sense, and needed no direction from me. I told him I did not wonder that his
+father was as he had described him, for that his head was a little touched
+before I went away; and principally his disturbance was because I could not be
+persuaded to conceal our relation and to live with him as my husband, after I
+knew that he was my brother; that as he knew better than I what his
+father&rsquo;s present condition was, I should readily join with him in such
+measure as he would direct; that I was indifferent as to seeing his father,
+since I had seen him first, and he could not have told me better news than to
+tell me that what his grandmother had left me was entrusted in his hands, who,
+I doubted not, now he knew who I was, would, as he said, do me justice. I
+inquired then how long my mother had been dead, and where she died, and told so
+many particulars of the family, that I left him no room to doubt the truth of
+my being really and truly his mother.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+My son then inquired where I was, and how I had disposed myself. I told him I
+was on the Maryland side of the bay, at the plantation of a particular friend
+who came from England in the same ship with me; that as for that side of the
+bay where he was, I had no habitation. He told me I should go home with him,
+and live with him, if I pleased, as long as I lived; that as to his father, he
+knew nobody, and would never so much as guess at me. I considered of that a
+little, and told him, that though it was really no concern to me to live at a
+distance from him, yet I could not say it would be the most comfortable thing
+in the world to me to live in the house with him, and to have that unhappy
+object always before me, which had been such a blow to my peace before; that
+though I should be glad to have his company (my son), or to be as near him as
+possible while I stayed, yet I could not think of being in the house where I
+should be also under constant restraint for fear of betraying myself in my
+discourse, nor should I be able to refrain some expressions in my conversing
+with him as my son, that might discover the whole affair, which would by no
+means be convenient.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+He acknowledged that I was right in all this. &ldquo;But then, dear
+mother,&rdquo; says he, &ldquo;you shall be as near me as you can.&rdquo; So he
+took me with him on horseback to a plantation next to his own, and where I was
+as well entertained as I could have been in his own. Having left me there he
+went away home, telling me we would talk of the main business the next day; and
+having first called me his aunt, and given a charge to the people, who it seems
+were his tenants, to treat me with all possible respect. About two hours after
+he was gone, he sent me a maid-servant and a Negro boy to wait on me, and
+provisions ready dressed for my supper; and thus I was as if I had been in a
+new world, and began secretly now to wish that I had not brought my Lancashire
+husband from England at all.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+However, that wish was not hearty neither, for I loved my Lancashire husband
+entirely, as indeed I had ever done from the beginning; and he merited from me
+as much as it was possible for a man to do; but that by the way.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+The next morning my son came to visit me again almost as soon as I was up.
+After a little discourse, he first of all pulled out a deerskin bag, and gave
+it me, with five-and-fifty Spanish pistoles in it, and told me that was to
+supply my expenses from England, for though it was not his business to inquire,
+yet he ought to think I did not bring a great deal of money out with me, it not
+being usual to bring much money into that country. Then he pulled out his
+grandmother&rsquo;s will, and read it over to me, whereby it appeared that she
+had left a small plantation, as he called it, on York River, that is, where my
+mother lived, to me, with the stock of servants and cattle upon it, and given
+it in trust to this son of mine for my use, whenever he should hear of my being
+alive, and to my heirs, if I had any children, and in default of heirs, to
+whomsoever I should by will dispose of it; but gave the income of it, till I
+should be heard of, or found, to my said son; and if I should not be living,
+then it was to him, and his heirs.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+This plantation, though remote from him, he said he did not let out, but
+managed it by a head-clerk (steward), as he did another that was his
+father&rsquo;s, that lay hard by it, and went over himself three or four times
+a year to look after it. I asked him what he thought the plantation might be
+worth. He said, if I would let it out, he would give me about &pound;60 a year
+for it; but if I would live on it, then it would be worth much more, and, he
+believed, would bring me in about &pound;150 a year. But seeing I was likely
+either to settle on the other side of the bay, or might perhaps have a mind to
+go back to England again, if I would let him be my steward he would manage it
+for me, as he had done for himself, and that he believed he should be able to
+send me as much tobacco to England from it as would yield me about &pound;100 a
+year, sometimes more.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+This was all strange news to me, and things I had not been used to; and really
+my heart began to look up more seriously than I think it ever did before, and
+to look with great thankfulness to the hand of Providence, which had done such
+wonders for me, who had been myself the greatest wonder of wickedness perhaps
+that had been suffered to live in the world. And I must again observe, that not
+on this occasion only, but even on all other occasions of thankfulness, my past
+wicked and abominable life never looked so monstrous to me, and I never so
+completely abhorred it, and reproached myself with it, as when I had a sense
+upon me of Providence doing good to me, while I had been making those vile
+returns on my part.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+But I leave the reader to improve these thoughts, as no doubt they will see
+cause, and I go on to the fact. My son&rsquo;s tender carriage and kind offers
+fetched tears from me, almost all the while he talked with me. Indeed, I could
+scarce discourse with him but in the intervals of my passion; however, at
+length I began, and expressing myself with wonder at my being so happy to have
+the trust of what I had left, put into the hands of my own child, I told him,
+that as to the inheritance of it, I had no child but him in the world, and was
+now past having any if I should marry, and therefore would desire him to get a
+writing drawn, which I was ready to execute, by which I would, after me, give
+it wholly to him and to his heirs. And in the meantime, smiling, I asked him
+what made him continue a bachelor so long. His answer was kind and ready, that
+Virginia did not yield any great plenty of wives, and that since I talked of
+going back to England, I should send him a wife from London.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+This was the substance of our first day&rsquo;s conversation, the pleasantest
+day that ever passed over my head in my life, and which gave me the truest
+satisfaction. He came every day after this, and spent a great part of his time
+with me, and carried me about to several of his friends&rsquo; houses, where I
+was entertained with great respect. Also I dined several times at his own
+house, when he took care always to see his half-dead father so out of the way
+that I never saw him, or he me. I made him one present, and it was all I had of
+value, and that was one of the gold watches, of which I mentioned above, that I
+had two in my chest, and this I happened to have with me, and I gave it him at
+his third visit. I told him I had nothing of any value to bestow but that, and
+I desired he would now and then kiss it for my sake. I did not indeed tell him
+that I had stole it from a gentlewoman&rsquo;s side, at a meeting-house in
+London. That&rsquo;s by the way.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+He stood a little while hesitating, as if doubtful whether to take it or no;
+but I pressed it on him, and made him accept it, and it was not much less worth
+than his leather pouch full of Spanish gold; no, though it were to be reckoned
+as if at London, whereas it was worth twice as much there, where I gave it him.
+At length he took it, kissed it, told me the watch should be a debt upon him
+that he would be paying as long as I lived.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+A few days after he brought the writings of gift, and the scrivener with them,
+and I signed them very freely, and delivered them to him with a hundred kisses;
+for sure nothing ever passed between a mother and a tender, dutiful child with
+more affection. The next day he brings me an obligation under his hand and
+seal, whereby he engaged himself to manage and improve the plantation for my
+account, and with his utmost skill, and to remit the produce to my order
+wherever I should be; and withal, to be obliged himself to make up the produce
+&pound;100 a year to me. When he had done so, he told me that as I came to
+demand it before the crop was off, I had a right to produce of the current
+year, and so he paid me &pound;100 in Spanish pieces of eight, and desired me
+to give him a receipt for it as in full for that year, ending at Christmas
+following; this being about the latter end of August.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+I stayed here about five weeks, and indeed had much ado to get away then. Nay,
+he would have come over the bay with me, but I would by no means allow him to
+it. However, he would send me over in a sloop of his own, which was built like
+a yacht, and served him as well for pleasure as business. This I accepted of,
+and so, after the utmost expressions both of duty and affection, he let me come
+away, and I arrived safe in two days at my friend&rsquo;s the Quaker&rsquo;s.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+I brought over with me for the use of our plantation, three horses, with
+harness and saddles, some hogs, two cows, and a thousand other things, the gift
+of the kindest and tenderest child that ever woman had. I related to my husband
+all the particulars of this voyage, except that I called my son my cousin; and
+first I told him that I had lost my watch, which he seemed to take as a
+misfortune; but then I told him how kind my cousin had been, that my mother had
+left me such a plantation, and that he had preserved it for me, in hopes some
+time or other he should hear from me; then I told him that I had left it to his
+management, that he would render me a faithful account of its produce; and then
+I pulled him out the &pound;100 in silver, as the first year&rsquo;s produce;
+and then pulling out the deerskin purse with the pistoles, &ldquo;And here, my
+dear,&rdquo; says I, &ldquo;is the gold watch.&rdquo; My husband&mdash;so is
+Heaven&rsquo;s goodness sure to work the same effects in all sensible minds
+where mercies touch the heart&mdash;lifted up both hands, and with an ecstacy
+of joy, &ldquo;What is God a-doing,&rdquo; says he, &ldquo;for such an
+ungrateful dog as I am!&rdquo; Then I let him know what I had brought over in
+the sloop, besides all this; I mean the horses, hogs, and cows, and other
+stores for our plantation; all which added to his surprise, and filled his
+heart with thankfulness; and from this time forward I believe he was as sincere
+a penitent, and as thoroughly a reformed man, as ever God&rsquo;s goodness
+brought back from a profligate, a highwayman, and a robber. I could fill a
+larger history than this with the evidence of this truth, and but that I doubt
+that part of the story will not be equally diverting as the wicked part, I have
+had thoughts of making a volume of it by itself.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+As for myself, as this is to be my own story, not my husband&rsquo;s, I return
+to that part which related to myself. We went on with our plantation, and
+managed it with the help and diversion of such friends as we got there by our
+obliging behaviour, and especially the honest Quaker, who proved a faithful,
+generous, and steady friend to us; and we had very good success, for having a
+flourishing stock to begin with, as I have said, and this being now increased
+by the addition of &pound;150 sterling in money, we enlarged our number of
+servants, built us a very good house, and cured every year a great deal of
+land. The second year I wrote to my old governess, giving her part with us of
+the joy of our success, and order her how to lay out the money I had left with
+her, which was &pound;250 as above, and to send it to us in goods, which she
+performed with her usual kindness and fidelity, and this arrived safe to us.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Here we had a supply of all sorts of clothes, as well for my husband as for
+myself; and I took especial care to buy for him all those things that I knew he
+delighted to have; as two good long wigs, two silver-hilted swords, three or
+four fine fowling-pieces, a fine saddle with holsters and pistols very
+handsome, with a scarlet cloak; and, in a word, everything I could think of to
+oblige him, and to make him appear, as he really was, a very fine gentleman. I
+ordered a good quantity of such household stuff as we yet wanted, with linen of
+all sorts for us both. As for myself, I wanted very little of clothes or linen,
+being very well furnished before. The rest of my cargo consisted in iron-work
+of all sorts, harness for horses, tools, clothes for servants, and woollen
+cloth, stuffs, serges, stockings, shoes, hats, and the like, such as servants
+wear; and whole pieces also to make up for servants, all by direction of the
+Quaker; and all this cargo arrived safe, and in good condition, with three
+woman-servants, lusty wenches, which my old governess had picked for me,
+suitable enough to the place, and to the work we had for them to do; one of
+which happened to come double, having been got with child by one of the seamen
+in the ship, as she owned afterwards, before the ship got so far as Gravesend;
+so she brought us a stout boy, about seven months after her landing.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+My husband, you may suppose, was a little surprised at the arriving of all this
+cargo from England; and talking with me after he saw the account of this
+particular, &ldquo;My dear,&rdquo; says he, &ldquo;what is the meaning of all
+this? I fear you will run us too deep in debt: when shall we be able to make
+return for it all?&rdquo; I smiled, and told him that it was all paid for; and
+then I told him, that what our circumstances might expose us to, I had not
+taken my whole stock with me, that I had reserved so much in my friend&rsquo;s
+hands, which now we were come over safe, and was settled in a way to live, I
+had sent for, as he might see.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+He was amazed, and stood a while telling upon his fingers, but said nothing. At
+last he began thus: &ldquo;Hold, let&rsquo;s see,&rdquo; says he, telling upon
+his fingers still, and first on his thumb; &ldquo;there&rsquo;s &pound;246 in
+money at first, then two gold watches, diamond rings, and plate,&rdquo; says
+he, upon the forefinger. Then upon the next finger, &ldquo;Here&rsquo;s a
+plantation on York River, &pound;100 a year, then &pound;150 in money, then a
+sloop load of horses, cows, hogs, and stores&rdquo;; and so on to the thumb
+again. &ldquo;And now,&rdquo; says he, &ldquo;a cargo cost &pound;250 in
+England, and worth here twice the money.&rdquo; &ldquo;Well,&rdquo; says I,
+&ldquo;what do you make of all that?&rdquo; &ldquo;Make of it?&rdquo; says he;
+&ldquo;why, who says I was deceived when I married a wife in Lancashire? I
+think I have married a fortune, and a very good fortune too,&rdquo; says he.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+In a word, we were now in very considerable circumstances, and every year
+increasing; for our new plantation grew upon our hands insensibly, and in eight
+years which we lived upon it, we brought it to such pitch, that the produce was
+at least &pound;300 sterling a year; I mean, worth so much in England.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+After I had been a year at home again, I went over the bay to see my son, and
+to receive another year&rsquo;s income of my plantation; and I was surprised to
+hear, just at my landing there, that my old husband was dead, and had not been
+buried above a fortnight. This, I confess, was not disagreeable news, because
+now I could appear as I was, in a married condition; so I told my son before I
+came from him, that I believed I should marry a gentleman who had a plantation
+near mine; and though I was legally free to marry, as to any obligation that
+was on me before, yet that I was shy of it, lest the blot should some time or
+other be revived, and it might make a husband uneasy. My son, the same kind,
+dutiful, and obliging creature as ever, treated me now at his own house, paid
+me my hundred pounds, and sent me home again loaded with presents.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+Some time after this, I let my son know I was married, and invited him over to
+see us, and my husband wrote a very obliging letter to him also, inviting him
+to come and see him; and he came accordingly some months after, and happened to
+be there just when my cargo from England came in, which I let him believe
+belonged all to my husband&rsquo;s estate, not to me.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+It must be observed that when the old wretch my brother (husband) was dead, I
+then freely gave my husband an account of all that affair, and of this cousin,
+as I had called him before, being my own son by that mistaken unhappy match. He
+was perfectly easy in the account, and told me he should have been as easy if
+the old man, as we called him, had been alive. &ldquo;For,&rdquo; said he,
+&ldquo;it was no fault of yours, nor of his; it was a mistake impossible to be
+prevented.&rdquo; He only reproached him with desiring me to conceal it, and to
+live with him as a wife, after I knew that he was my brother; that, he said,
+was a vile part. Thus all these difficulties were made easy, and we lived
+together with the greatest kindness and comfort imaginable.
+</p>
+
+<p>
+We are grown old; I am come back to England, being almost seventy years of age,
+husband sixty-eight, having performed much more than the limited terms of my
+transportation; and now, notwithstanding all the fatigues and all the miseries
+we have both gone through, we are both of us in good heart and health. My
+husband remained there some time after me to settle our affairs, and at first I
+had intended to go back to him, but at his desire I altered that resolution,
+and he is come over to England also, where we resolve to spend the remainder of
+our years in sincere penitence for the wicked lives we have lived.
+</p>
+
+<h5> WRITTEN IN THE YEAR 1683 </h5>
+
+</div><!--end chapter-->
+
+<div style='display:block;margin-top:4em'>*** END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK MOLL FLANDERS ***</div>
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