and making a jest of himself; I confess I think he is wrong to do so, because he cannot but see that it vexes them, and makes them unkind to you; but it is 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." "9 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 oppor. tunity 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, "So it is," says I, "one way, but this does not getting him by himself, he began to talk very reach my case at all; nor is this the chief thing close to him about it, and the same evering got that troubles me, though I have been concerned an opportunity (for we had a long conference toabout that too." "What is it, then?" says he.gether) to repeat all their discourse to me, which With which I fell into tears, and could say was, as near as I can remember, to the purpose nothing to him at all. He strove to pacify me following :—“ He told him he heard strange news all he could, but began at last to be very press- of him since he went, viz., that be made love to ing upon me to tell what it was. At last I an- Mrs Betty. "Well," says his brother, a little swered that I thought I ought to tell him too, and angrily, "and so I do; and what then? What that he had some right to know it; besides that has anybody to do with that?" "Nay," says his I wanted his direction in the case, for I was in brother, "do not be angry, Robin; I do not presuch perplexity that I knew not what course to tend to have anything to do with it, nor do I take, and then I related the whole affair to him. pretend to be angry with you about it; but I I told him how imprudently his brother had ma- find they do concern themselves about it, and naged himself, in making himself so public; for that they have used the poor girl ill about it, that if he had kept a secret, as such a thing ought which I should take as done to myself." "Who to have been, I could but have denied him posi- do you mean by they?" says Robin. "I mean my tively, without giving any reason for it, and he mother and the girls," says the elder brother. 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 will carry it worse when they find I have denied him, and they will presently say there is something else in it, and then out it comes that I am married already to somebody else, or else that I would never refuse a match so much above me as this was. 19 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 of 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 awhile. 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 at 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 will be as good as a husband to you; and do not let those things trouble you now, but let me look a little further 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 offered no more all the while we "But hark ye," says his brother, "are you in earnest; do you really love the 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." "It is 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 at the word, but I could see it startled him, and he could not hide the disorder it put him into; however he returned— 66 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 con sent. "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 them 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 strait 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 is the matter with you? Where are you a going?" and a great many such things, and with jogging and calling to me, he 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. 66 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." "Ah!" 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 a light thing of it, as what you were above, and would not 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 around us in the town, and you never proposed my marrying you sooner, because you know 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 awhile, 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? Is it in my power, think you, to make such a change at demand? No, sir," said I, "depend upon it it is impossible, and whatever the change of your side may be I will ever be true, and I had much rather, since it is come to 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 an entire parting us, but that we might love as friends all our days, and perhaps with more satisfaction || of honour not to lie with a woman that, for ought 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 farther 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 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 to 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 be 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 as this 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 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. Theses 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 so 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 was he 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 who? 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 ther; as for me, I was ill, and in my chamber. At so. They happened to be all at table but the fathe 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?" 66 I believe nothing of it," says the old gentle woman. "I do not know," says the eldest sister, "what her being so handsome, and so charming, aud I to say to it; they have made such a rout about 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 do not know what to make of it." "Why, sister, you must acknowledge she is very handsome," says the elder brother. "Ah, and a great deal handsomer than you sister," says Robin, "and that is your mortification." 'Well, well, that is not the question," says his sister, "the girl is well enough, and she knows || testation of sincerity that I was able to make, it well enough; she need not be told of it to make her vain." "We are not talking of her being vain," says the eldest 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 would quickly put her out of her pain." "What do ye mean, son ?" says the old lady. "How can you talk so?" "Why, madam," says Robin again, very honestly, "do you think I would 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?" Pr'ythee, child," says Robin, "beauty is 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 will not say no." " "They that yield when they are asked," says Robin, 66 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 is an answer to you, sister." 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 suppose 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 sweetheart, 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 to it, told them all the discourse she had with me, and how I answered that there was nothing between Mr Robert and I. "She is wrong there," says Robin, "for if there closer together than we are; I told her I loved was not a great deal between us, we should be her dearly," says he, "but I could never make the jade believe I was in earnest." 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 re-mother, "nobody in their senses could believe moved." Robin replied, "That was the business of the master and mistress of the family, who were not to be taught by one that had so little judgment as his eldest sister." It run 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 cried heartily, and the old lady came up to me, somebody having told her that 1 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 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 pro But "I do not know how you should," says his you were in earnest to talk so to a poor girl, whose circumstances you know so well. pr'ythee, son," adds she, "since you tell me that you cannot 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 confession, has answered truly, I wish you would do so too, and tell me seriously, so that I may depend upon it. Is there any thing in it, or no? Are you in earnest, or no? Are you distracted indeed, or are you not? It is a weighty question, and I wish you would make us easy about it." "By my faith, madam," says Robin, "it is in vain to mince the matter, or tell any more lies about it, I am in earnest as much as a man is that is going to be hanged. If Mrs Betty would say she loved me, and that she would marry me, I'd have her to-morrow morning fasting; and say, To have and to hold,' instead of eating my breakfast." "I do not jest, madam," says Robin, "we will 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 is 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 doors, it must be between you." "I have nothing to say to that," says Robin, "I have been examined enough; there is 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. " Pr'ythee," says he, "do not go to sham your stories off upon me, I tell you I deal in no such ware; I have nothing to say to Mrs Betty, nor any of the Miss 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 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 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 this, he contrived it so, that one day after dinner, watching his eldest sister till he could see her go up stairs, 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 will 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 is in love? How do ye do, Mrs Betty?" was but "I would have got out of my chair, 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 deal of rambling stuff to his sister and 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 is 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 is none of my distemper." At times other that signified as little. We had a deal of such discourse, and someBy and by smiled, and said my singing days were over. he asked me to sing them a song; at which I last he asked me if he should play upon his flute to me. His sister said, "She believed it would hurt me, and that my head could not bear it." I bowed, and said, "No, it would not hurt me; love the music of the flute very much." Then his and pray, madam," said I, "do not hinder it, I sister said, 'Well, do then, brother." With that he pulled out the key of his closet, "Dear sister," and fetch my flute, it lies in such a drawer, says he, "I am very lazy, do step to my closet 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 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 this 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, who 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 |