part with.

arguments to fortify my mind against all reflec- 11 more; these put together, when I ruminated on tions, and to keep me in that horrid course I had it all in my thoughts, as you may be sure I did engaged in, as if it were honest and lawful. often, added weight still to the question, as

But not to dwell upon that now; this was a || above, and it sounded continually in my head, pretence, and here was something to be said, / what's next? What am I a whore for now? though I acknowledge it ought not to have been | It is true, this was, as I say, seldom out of my sufficient to me at all; but I say to leave that, all thoughts, but yet it made no impressions upon this was out of doors; the devil himself could not me of that kind which might be expected from a form one argument, or put one reason into my reflection of so important a nature, and which

ead now, that could serve for an answer, no, not || had so much of substance and serioueness in it. so much as a pretended answer to this question, But, however, it was not without some little Why I should be a whore now?

consequences even at that time, and which gave It had for a while been a little kind of excuse a little turn to my way of living at first, as you to me that I was engaged with this wicked old shall hear in its place. lord, and that I could not in honour forsake him; But one particular thing intervened besides but how foolish and absurd did it look to repeat this, which gave me some uneasiness at this the word honour on so vile an occasion ? as if a time, and made way for other things that fol woman should prostitute her honour in point of lowed. I have mentioned in several little digres honour; horrid inconsistency! Honour called sions, the concern I had upon me for my chilupon me to detest the crime and the man too, || dren, and in what manner I had directed that and to have resisted all the attacks which, from | affair ; I must go on a little with that part, in the beginning, had been made upon my virtue ; order to bring the subsequent parts of my story and honour, had it been consulted, would have together. preserved me honest from the beginning.

My boy, the only son I had left I had a legal “For Honesty and Honour are the same."

right to call son, was, as I have said, rescued

from the unhappy circumstances of being appretThis, however, shows us with what faint ex

tice to a mechanic, and was brought up upon a cuses, and with what trifles we pretend to satisfy new foot ; but though this was infinitely to his ourselves, and suppress the attempts of conscience advantage, yet it put him back near three years in the pursuit of an agreeable crime, and in the in his coming into the world, for he had been pogsessing those pleasures which we are loth to Il near a year at the drudgery he was first pat to,

and it took up two years more to form him for But this objection would now serve no longer, what he had hopes given him he should berealter for my lord had, in some sort, broke his engage- | be, so that he was fully nineteen years old, of ments (I won't call it honour again) with me, and rather twenty years, before he came to be put out had so far slighted me as fairly to justify my en as I intended; at the end of which time I put tire quitting of him now; and so as the objection || him to a very flourishing Italian merehant, and was fully answered, the question remained still

he again sent him to Messina, in the island of unanswered, Why am I a whore now? Nor Sicily; and a little before the juncture I am not indeed had I anything to say for myself, even to

| speaking of, I had letters from him, that is to myself; I could not, without blushing, as wicked say, Mrs Amy had letters from him, intimating as I was, answer, that I loved it for the sake of that he was out of his time, and that he had an the vice, and that I delighted in being a whore,

delighted in being a whore, | opportunity to be taken into an English house as such; I say, I could not say this, even to my- | there, on very good terms, if his support from self, and all alone, nor indeed would it have been | hence might answer what he was bid to bope true. I was never able in justice, and with

for; and so begged that what would be done for truth, to say I was so wicked as that; but as

bim might be so ordered that he might have it necessity first debauched me, and poverty made

for his present advancement, referring for the me a whore at the beginning, so excess of ava particulars to his master, the merchant in Lot rice for getting money, and excess of vanity, con

don, whom he had been apprentice to here; who, tinued me in the crime, not being able to resist the

to cut the story short, gave such a satisfuctory flatteries of great persons; being called the finest || account of it, and of my young man, to my steady woman in France; being caressed by a prince;

ing, caressed by a prince ; || and faithful counsellor, Sir Robert Clayton, that and afterwards I had pride enough to expect, || I made no scruple to pay 4,0001. which was and folly enough to believe, though indeed with

1,0001. more than he demanded, or rather proout ground, by a great monarch. These were

posed, that he might have encouragement to my baits, these the chains by which the devil

enter into the world better than he expected. held me bound, and by which I was indeed so His master remitted the money very faithfully fast held for any reasoning that I was then mis

to him, and finding, by Sir Robert Clayton, that tress of to deliver me from.

the young gentleman, for so he called him, w But this was all over now, avarice could have well supported, wrote such letters on his account, no pretence; I was out of the reach of all that ll as gave him a credit at Messina equal in value to fate could do to reduce me; now I was so far the money itself. from poor, or the danger of it, that I had 50,0001. I could not digest it very well, that I should in my pocket at least ; nay, I had the income of || all this while conceal myself thus from my own 50,0001., for I had 2,5001. a-year coming in upon child, and make all this favour due, in his opinion, very good land security, besides three or four to a stranger; and yet I could not find in my thousand pounds in money, which I kept by me || heart to let my son know what a mother he has, for ordinary occasions, and besides jewels and || and what a life she lived; when, at the same plate, and goods, which were worth near 5,6001. Il time, that he must think himself infinitely obligt

to me, he must be obliged, if he was a man of changed several visits, the girl now grown a virtue, to hate his mother, and abhor the way of woman, talking to Amy of the gay things that living, by which all the bounty he enjoyed was used to fall out when she was servant in my raised.

family, spoke of it with a kind of concern, that This is the reason of mentioning this part of she could not see (me) her lady; and at last she my son's story, which is otherwise no ways con adds, “ 'twas very strange, madam," says she to cerned in my history, but as it put me upon Amy, “but though I lived near two years in the thinking how to put an end to that wicked course house, I never saw my mistress in my life, except I was in, that my own child, when he should it was that public night when she danced in the afterwards come to England in a good figure, fine Turkish habit, and then she was so disguised and with the appearance of a merchant, should that I knew nothing of her afterwards." not be ashamed to own me.

Amy was glad to hear this, but as she was a But there was another difficulty, which lay || cunning girl from the beginning, she was not to heavier upon me a great deal, and that was, my be bit, and so she laid no stress upon that at daughter; who, as before, I had relieved by the first, but gave me an account of it; and I must hands of another instrument, which Amy had confess it gave me a secret joy to think that I procured. The girl, as I have mentioned, was was not known to her; and that, by virtue of directed to put herself into a good garb, take that only accident, I might, when other circuinlodgings, and entertain a maid to wait upon her, stances made room for it, discover myself to her, to give herself some breeding, that is to say, to and let her know that she had a mother in a conlearn to dance, and fit herself to appear as a dition fit to be owned. gentlewoman; being made to hope, that she It was a dreadful restraint to me before, and should, sometime or other, find that she should this gave me some very sad reflections, and made be put into a condition to support her character, way for the great question I have mentioned and to make herself amends for all her former || above ; and by how much the circumstance was troubles ; she was only charged not to be drawn bitter to, by so much the more agreeable it was into matrimony, till she was secured of a fortune to understand that the girl had never seen me, that might assist to dispose of herself suitable and consequently, did not know me again if she not to what then she was, but what she was was to be told who I was. to be.

However, the next time she came to visit Amy The girl was too sensible of her circumstances I was resolved to put it to a trial, and to come not to give all possible satisfaction of that kind, || into the room and let her see me, and to see by and indeed she was mistress of too much under that, whether she knew me or no; but Amy put standing not to see how much she should be ob me by, lest indeed, as there was reason enough liged to that part for her own interest.

to question, I should not be able to contain, or It was not long after this, but being well forbear discovering myself to her; so it went off equipped, and in every thing well set out, as she for that time. was directed, she came as I have related above, But both these circumstances, and that is the and paid a visit to Mrs Amy, and to tell her of reason of my mentioning them, brought me to her good fortune. Amy pretended to be much consider of the life I lived, and to resolve to put surprised at the alteration, and overjoyed for her myself into some figure of life, in which I might sake, and began to treat her very well, enter- ll not be scandalous to my own family, and be afraid tained her handsomely, and when she would have to make myself known to my own children, who gone away pretended to ask my leave, and sent were my own flesh and blood. my coach home with her; and, in short, learning There was another daughter I had, which, from her where she lodged, which was in the with all our inquiries we could not hear of, high city, Amy promised to return her visit, and did nor low, for several years after the first. But I so; and, in a word, Amy and Susan (for she was return to my own story. my own name) began an intimate acquaintance Being now in part removed from my old sta. together.

tion, I seemed to be in a fair way of retiring There was an inexpressible difficulty in the from my old acquaintances, and consequently poor girl's way, or else I should not have been from the vile abominable trade I had driven so able to have forborne discovering myself to her, long; so that the door seemed to be, as it were, and this was, her having been a servant in my particularly opened to my reformation, if I had particular family; and I could by no means think any mind to it in earnest; but, for all that, some of ever letting the children know what a kind of of my old friends, as I used to call them, inquired creature they owed their being to, or giving them me out, and came to visit me at Kensington, and an occasion to upbraid their motheir with her that more frequently than I wished they would scandalous life, much less to justify the like prac do ; but it being once known where I was, there tice from my example.

was no avoiding it, unless I would have downThus it was with me; and thus, no doubt, con- || right refused and affronted them; and I was not sidering parents always find it, that their own yet in earnest enough with my resolutions to go children are a restraint to them in their worst || that length. courses, when the sense of a Superior Power has || The best of it was, my old lewd favourite, not the same influence. But of that hereafter. whom I now heartily hated, entirely dropped

There happened, however, one good circum- || me; he came once to visit me, but I caused Amy stance in the case of this poor girl, which brought || to deny me, and say I was gone out; she did it about a discovery sooner than otherwise it would so oddly too, that when his lordshlp went away, have been, and it was thus : after she and Amy he said coldly to her, “ Well, well, Mrs Amy,'í had been intimate for some time, and had ex-l find your mistress does not desire to be seen ; tell her I won't trouble her any more," repeating in her motions, and was for doing it immediately, the words any more two or three times over, just || “ Well,” says I, “ Amy, as soon as you will, but at his going away.

what course must we take to do it? we cannot I reflected a little on it at first, as unkind to put off servants and coach and horses, and every him, having had so many considerable presents thing, leave off housekeeping, and transform our. from him, but, as I have said, I was sick of him, selves into a new shape all in a moment ; servants and that on some accounts, which if I could suffer | must have warning, and the goods must be sold myself to publish them, would fully justify my off, and a thousand things," and this began to conduct; but that part of the story will not bear perplex us, and in particular took us up two or telling, so I must leave it and proceed.

three days' consideration. I had begun a little, as I have said above, to || At last, Amy, who was a clever manager in reflect upon my manner of living, and to think || such cases, came to me with a scheme, as she of putting a new face upon it; and nothing Il called it." I have found it out, madam," says moved me to it more than the consideration of she, “I have found a scheme how you shall, if my having three children, who were now grown you have a mind to it, begin and finish a perfect,

p;, and yet, that while I was in that station of entire change of your figure and circumstances nie ! could not converse with them, or make my- || in one day, and shall be as much unknown, maself known to them; and this gave me a great ) dam, in twenty-four hours, as you would be in deal of uneasiness ; at last I entered into a talk

so many years." on this part of it with my woman Amy.

" Come, Amy," says I, “let us hear it, for We lived at Kensington, as I have said, and though I had done with my old wicked L

you please me mightily with the thoughts of it.* as above, yet I was frequently visited, as I said,

“ Why, then," says Amy, “let me go into the by some others, so that, in a word, I began to

city this afternoon, and I'll inquire out some hobe known in the town, not by name only, but

nest, plain, sober family, where I will take lodg.

ings for you, as for a country-gentlewoman that my character too, which was worse.

desires to be in London for about half a year, and It was one morning when Amy was in bed with me, and I had some of my dullest thoughts

to board yourself and a kinswoman, that is baif about me, that Amy hearing me sigh pretty

a servant, half a companion, meaning myself; often, asked me if I was not well? “ Yes, Amy,

and so agree with them by the month. I am well enough,” says I, “but my mind is op

“ To this lodging (if I hit upon one to your pressed with heavy thoughts, and has been so a

mind) you may go to-morrow morning in a hack. good while; and then I told her how it grieved

ney-coach, with nobody but me, and leave such me that I could not make myself known to my

|| clothes and linen as you think fit; but to be sure, own children, or form any acquaintances in

the plainest you have ; and then you are removed the world. " Why so ?” says Amy. « Why. Il at once, you need never so much as set your prithee,” says I, “what will my children say to foot in this house again (meaning where we then themselves, and to one another, when they find

were) or see anybody belonging to it; in the their mother, however rich she may be, is at best

meantime I'll let the servants know that you are but a whore, a common whore? And as for

going over to Holland upon extraordinary busiacquaintance, prithee Amy, what sober lady, or

ness, and will leave off your equipages, and so what family of any character will visit or be ac. || I'll give them warning, or, if they will accept of quainted with a whore ?"

lit, give them a month's wages; and then I will “ Why, all that's true, madam," says Amy;

sell off your furniture as well as I can; as to your “but how can it be remedied now ?"_"'Tis true,

coach, it is but having it new painted, and the Amy,” said I. "the thing cannot be remedied | lining changed, and getting new harness and now, but the scandal of it, I fancy, may be thrown

hammercloths, and you may keep it still, or disoff.”

pose of it as you think fit; and only take care “Truly,” says Amy, “ I don't see how, unless

to let this lodging be in some remote part of the you will go abroad again, and live in some other || town, and you may be as perfectly unknown, as nation. where nobody has known us, or seen us. || if you had never been in England in your bale. so that they cannot say they ever saw us before." This was Amy's scheme, and it pleased me so

That very thought of Amy put what follows || well, that I resolved not only to let her go, but into my head; and I returned, “Why, Amy,” || was resolved to go with her myself, but Amy pet says I, “ is it not possible for me to shift my being, me off of that, because, she said, she should from this part of the town, and go and live in | have occasion to hurry up and down so long, that another part of the city, or another part of the if I was with her it would rather hinder than country, and be as entirely concealed as if I had further her; so I waved it. never been known ?"

II. In a word. Amy went, and was gone fire lore “ Yes," says Amy, “I believe it might; but hours; but when she came back, I could see by then you must put off all your equipages, and her countenance that her success had been suit. servants, coaches and horses ; change your live- || able to her pains, for she came laughing and ries, nay, your own clothes, and if it was possible gaping. “ O madam !" says she," I have pleased your very face."

you to the life;" and with that, she tells me how "Well," says I, “ and that's the way, Amy, she had fixed upon a house in a court in the Miand that I'll do, and that forthwith; for I am not nories; that she was directed to it merely by able to live in this manner any longer." Amy | accident; that it was a female family, the master came into this with a kind of pleasure particular of the house being gone to New England, and that to herself, that is to say, with an eagerness not || the woman had four children, kept two maids, to be resisted; for Amy was apt to be precipitant || and lived very handsomely, but wanted company to divert her; and that on that very account | indeed too coarse a word for her, and she de. she had agreed to take boarders.

served a much better) I say, I asked her if she Amy agreed for a good handsome price, because would sell it; I told her I was so fond of it, that she was resolved I should be used well; so she | I would give her enough to buy her a better bargained to give her 35l. for the half year, and suit; she declined it at first, but I soon perceived 501. if we took a maid, leaving that to my choice; that it was chiefly in good manners, because I and that we might be satisfied we should meet should not dishonour myself, as she called it, to with nothing very gay, the people were Quakers, put on her old clothes; but if I pleased to accept and I liked them the better.

of them, she would give me them for my dress. I was so pleased that I resolved to go with Amy

ing-clothes, and go with me, and buy a suit for the next day to see the lodgings, and to see the ll me, that might be better worth my wearing. woman of the house, and see how I liked them ; But as I conversed in a very frank open matibut if I was pleased with the general, I was much || ner with her, I bid her do the like with me; more pleased with the particulars; for the gen that I made no scruple of such things, but that tlewoman, I must call her so, though she was a if she would let me have them I would satisfy Quaker, was a most courteous, obliging, mannerly her; so she let me know what they cost, and to person ; perfectly well-bred, and perfectly well make her amends, I gave her three guineas more humoured, and in short, the most agreeable con- | than they cost her. versation that ever I met with; and, which was This good (though unhappy) Quaker had the worth all, so grave, and yet so pleasant and so misfortune to have had a bad husband, and he merry, that 'tis scarce possible for me to express

was gone beyond sea ; she had a good house and how I was pleased and delighted with her com

well-furnished, and had some jointure of her own pany; and particularly, I was so pleased that I estate, which supported her and her children, so would go away no more; so I e'en took up my that she did not want; but she was not above lodging there the very first night.

such a help, as my being there was to her ; so In the meantime, though it took up Amy || she was as glad of me as I was of her. almost a month so entirely, to put off all the || However, as I knew there was no way to fix appearances of housekeeping, as above, it need |

this new acquaintance like making myself a friend take me up no time to relate it ; 'tis enough to | to her, I began with making her some handsome say, that Amy quitted all that part of the world,

Il presents, and the like to her children. And and came pack and package to me, and here we || first, opening my bundles one day in my chamber, took up our abode.

I heard her in another room, and called her in I was now in a perfect retreat indeed; remote with a kind of familiar way; there I showed her from the eyes of all that ever had seen me, and as || some of my fine clothes, and having among the much out of the way of ever being seen or heard rest of my things a piece of very fine new holland, of by any of the gang that used to follow me, || which I had bought a little before, worth about as if I had been among the mountains in Lan- | 9s. an ell, I pulled it out, “ Here, my friend," cashire; for when did a blue garter, or a coach | says I, “ I will make you a present, if you will and-six, come into a little narrow passage in the accept of it ;" and with that I laid the piece of Minories, or Goodman's fields ? And as there || holland in her lap. was no fear of them, so I really had no desire I could see she was surprised, and that she to see them, or so much as to hear from them could hardly speak. “What dost thou mean?" any more as long as I lived.

says she; “indeed, I cannot have the face to I seemed in a little hurry while Amy came and accept so fine a present as this ;" adding, “ 'tis went so every day at first; but when that was || fit for thy own use, but 'tis above my wear, over I lived here perfectly retired, and with a indeed." I thought she had meant she must most pleasant and agreeable lady ; I must call not wear it so fine, because she was a Quaker ; so her so, for though a Quaker, she had a full share I returned, “Why, do not you Quakers wcar fine of good breeding sufficient to her if she had been linen neither?” -“ Yes," says she, “we wear a duchess; in a word, she was the most agreeable fine linen when we can afford it, but this is too creature in her conversation, as I said before, good for me." However, I made her take it, and that ever I met with.

she was very thankful too; but my end was I pretended, after I had been there some time, answered another way, for by this I engaged her to be extremely in love with the dress of the so, that as I found her a woman of understanding, Quakers, and this pleased her so much, that she | and of honesty too, I might, upon any occasion, would needs dress me up one day in a suit of her

| have a confidence in her, which was, indeed, own clothes ; but my real design was, to see what I very much wanted. whether it would pass upon me for a disguise. By accustoming myself to converse with her,

Amy was struck with the novelty, though I || I had not only learned to dress like a Quaker, had not mentioned my design to her, and when

but so used myself to thee and thou, that I talked the Quaker was gone out of the room, says Amy, like a Quaker too, as ready and naturally as if I “ I guess your meaning; it is a perfect disguise to hnd been born among them; and, in a word, I you; why you look quite another body, I should I passed for a Quaker among all people that did not have known you myself; nay,” says Amy,

not know me. I went but little abroad, but I “ more than that, it makes you look ten years

was so used to a coach, that I knew not how younger than you did.”

well to go without one; besides, I thought it Nothing could please me better than that, and I would be a farther disguise to me, so I told my when Amy repeated it, I was so fond of it,' that | Quaker friend one day, that I thought I lived too I asked my Quaker (I won't call her landlady, 'tisll close, that I wanted air : she proposed taking a

hackney-coach sometimes, or a boat; but I told || is in being, you shall hear of him; if not, you her I had always had a coach of my own till shall hear of him still, and that may be enough." now, and I could find in my heart to have one " Why,” says I, “if you will promise me dot again.

to enter into anything relating to me with him, She seemed to think it strange at first, consi- not to begin any discourse at all, unless he begins dering how close lived, but had nothing to say it with you, I could almost be persuaded to let when she foun. I did not value the expense; so, ll you go and try.” in short, ! resolved I would have a coach. I Amy promised me all that I desired; and, in When wr, came to talk of equipages, she extolled a word, to cut the story short, I let her go; but the having all things plain. I said so too; so I tied her up to so many particulars, that it was left, it to her direction, and a coachmaker was almost impossible her going could signify anysent for, and he provided me a plain coach, nothing; and had she intended to observe them, gilding or painting, lined with a light grey cloth, she might as well have staid at home as have and my coachman had a coat of the same, and gone; for I charged her, if she came to see him, no lace on his hat.

she should not so much as take notice that she When all was ready I dressed myself in the knew him again ; and if he spoke to her, she dress I bought of her, and said, “ Come, I'll be a should tell him she was come away from ine a Quaker to day, and you and I'll go abroad,” | great many years ago, and knew nothing what which we did ; and there was not a Quaker in was become of me; that she had been come over the town that looked less like a counterfeit than to France six years ago, and was married there, I did. But all tbis was my particular plot, to be and lived at Calais, or to that purpose. the inore completely concealed, and that I might | Amy promised me nothing, indeed, for, as she depend upon being not known, and yet need not || said, it was impossible for her to resolve what be confined like a prisoner and be always in fear; || would be fit to do, or not to do, till she was so that all the rest was grimace.

there upon the spot, and had found out the genWe lived there very easy and quiet, and yet I tleman or heard of him; but that then, if I cannot say I was so in my mind; I was like a would trust her, as I had always done, she fish out of water; I was as gay, and as young in would answer for it that she would do nothing my disposition, as I was at five-and-twenty; and || but what should be for my interest, and what as I had always been courted, flattered, and used || she would hope I should be very well pleased to love it, so I missed it in my conversation ; and with. this put me many times upon looking back upon | With this general commission, Amy, notwiththings past.

standing she had been so frightened at the sea, I had very few moments in my life which, in | ventured her carcass once more by water, and their reflection, afforded me anything but regret; || away she goes to France; she had four articles but of all the foolish actions l'had to look back of confidence in charge to inquire after for me, upon in my life, none looked so preposterous, and, as I found by her, she bad one for herself; and so like distraction, nor left so much melan || I say, four for me, because, though her first and choly on my mind, as my parting with my friend, principal errand was to inform herself of the Dutch the merchant of Paris, and the refusing him |merchant, yet I gave her in charge to inquire, upon such honourable and just conditions as he second, after my husband, whom I left a trooper had offered ; and though on his just (which I in the gens d'armes ; third, after that rogue of a called unkind) rejecting my invitation to come to | Jew, whose very name I hated, and of wbose him again, I had looked on him with some dis- | Il face I had such a frightful idea, that Satan bimgust, yet now my mind run upon him conti self could not counterfeit a worse; and, lastly, nually, and the ridiculous conduct of my refusing || after my foreign prioce. And she discharged him, and I could never be satisfied about him: Ill herself very well of them all, though not so sucflattered myself that if I could see him, I could |cessfully as I wished. yet master him, and that he would presently I Amy had a very good passage over the sea, forget all that had passed that might be thought and I had a letter from her, from Calais, in three unkind; but as there was no room to imagine | days after she went from London. When she anything like that to be possible, I threw those came to Paris, she wrote me an account, that as thoughts off again as much as I could.

to her first and most important inquiry, which However, they continually returned, and I had | was after the Dutch merchant; her account was, no rest night or day for thinking of him, whom I || that he had returned to Paris, lived three years had forgot above eleven years. I told Amy of | there, and, quitting that city, went to live at it, and we talked it over sometimes in bed, al- | Rouen : so away goes Amy for Rouen. most whole nights together. At last Amy started | But as she was going to bespeak a place is a thing of her own head, which put it in a way the coach to Rouen, she meets very accidentally of management, though a wild one too. “ You || in the street with her gentleman, as she called are uneasy, madam," says she, “ about this Mr || him; that is to say, the Prince de _ 's ged

the merchant at Paris; come,” says she, tleman, who had been her favourite, as above. “if you'll give me leave, I'll go over and see You may be sure there were several other what's become of him."

kind things happened between Amy and hizi, s “ Not for ten thousand pounds," said I; "no, you shall hear afterwards : but the two main nor if you met him in the street, not to offer to Il things were, first, that Amy inquired about bis speak to him on my account."-"No," says Amy, | | lord, and had a full account of him, of which " I would not speak to him at all, or if I did, I presently; and, in the next place, telling him warrant you it shall not look to be on your whither she was going, and for what. He bade ccount; I wil only inquire after him, and if hell her not go yet, for that he would liave a parti.

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