by Daniel Defoe
I started a little at the Word Wedding: What do ye mean? to call it by such a Name, says I; adding, We will have a Supper, but t’other is impossible, as well on your side as mine; he laugh’d, Well, says he, you shall call it what you will, but it may be the same thing, for I shall satisfie you, it is not so impossible as you make it.
I don’t understand you, said I, have not I a Husband, and you a Wife?
Well, well, says he, we will talk of that after Supper; so he rose up, gave me another Kiss, and took his Horse for London.
This kind of Discourse had fir’d my Blood, I confess, and I knew not what to think of it; it was plain now that he intended to lye with me, but how he would reconcile it to a legal thing, like a Marriage, that I cou’d not imagine: We had both of us us’d Amy with so much Intimacy, and trusted her with every thing, having such unexampled Instances of her Fidelity, that he made no Scruple to kiss me, and say all these things to me before her, nor had he car’d one Farthing if I would have let him Lay with me, to have had Amy there too all Night. When he was gone, Well, Amy, says I, what will all this come to now? I am all in a Sweat at him: Come to, Madam, says Amy, I see what it will come to, I must put you to-Bed to-Night together: Why you wou’d not be so impudent, you Jade you, says I, wou’d you? Yes, I wou’d, says she, with all my Heart, and think you both as honest as ever you were in your Lives.
What ails the Slut to talk so? said I, Honest! how can it be honest? Why, I’ll tell you, Madam, says Amy, I sounded43 it as soon as I heard him speak, and it is very true too; he calls you Widow, and such, indeed, you are; for as my Master has left you so many Years, he is dead to be sure; at least, he is dead to you; he is no Husband, you are, and ought to be free to marry who you will; and his Wife being gone from him, and refuses to lye with him, then he is a single Man again, as much as ever; and tho’ you cannot bring the Laws of the Land to join you together, yet one refusing to do the Office of a Wife, and the other of a Husband, you may certainly take one another fairly.44
Nay, Amy, says I, if I cou’d take him fairly, you may be sure I’d take him above all the Men in the World; it turn’d the very Heart within me, when I heard him say he lov’d me; how cou’d it do otherwise? when you know what a Condition I was in before; despis’d, and trampled on by all the World; I cou’d have took him in my Arms, and kiss’d him as freely as he did me, if it had not been for Shame.
Ay, and all the rest too, says Amy, at the first Word; I don’t see how you can think of denying him any thing; has he not brought you out of the Devil’s Clutches; brought you out of the blackest Misery that ever poor Lady was reduc’d to? Can a Woman deny such a Man any thing?
Nay, I don’t know what to do, Amy, says I; I hope he won’t desire any thing of that Kind of me, I hope he won’t attempt it; if he does, I know not what to say to him.
Not ask you, says Amy, depend upon it, he will ask you, and you will grant it too; I’m sure my Mistress is no Fool; come, pray Madam, let me go air you a clean Shift; don’t let him find you in foul Linnen the Wedding-Night.
But that I know you to be a very honest Girl, Amy, says I, you wou’d make me abhor you; why, you argue for the Devil, as if you were one of his Privy-Counsellors.
It’s no matter for that, Madam, I say nothing but what I think; you own you love this Gentleman, and he has given you sufficient Testimony of his Affection to you; your Conditions are alike unhappy, and he is of Opinion that he may take another Woman, his first Wife having broke her Honour, and living from him, and that, tho’ the Laws of the Land will not allow him to marry formally, yet, that he may take another Woman into his Arms, provided he keeps true to the other Woman as a Wife; nay he says it is usual to do so, and allow’d by the Custom of the Place, in several Countries abroad;45 and, I must own, I’m of the same Mind, else ’tis in the Power of a Whore, after she has jilted and abandon’d her Husband, to confine him from the Pleasure as well as Convenience of a Woman all Days of his Life, which wou’d be very unreasonable; and as times go, not tollerable to all People; and the like on your side, Madam.
Had I now had my Sences about me, and had my Reason not been overcome by the powerful Attraction of so kind, so beneficent a Friend; had I consulted Conscience and Virtue, I shou’d have repell’d this Amy, however faithful and honest to me in other things, as a Viper, and Engine46 of the Devil; I ought to have remembred that neither he or I, either by the Laws of God or Man, cou’d come together, upon any other Terms than that of notorious Adultery: The ignorant Jade’s Argument, That he had brought me out of the Hands of the Devil, by which she meant the Devil of Poverty and Distress, shou’d have been a powerful Motive to me, not to plunge myself into the Jaws of Hell, and into the Power of the real Devil, in Recompence for that Deliverance; I shou’d have look’d upon all the Good this Man had done for me, to have been the particular Work of the Goodness of Heaven; and that Goodness shou’d have mov’d me to a Return of Duty and humble Obedience; I shou’d have receiv’d the Mercy thankfully, and apply’d it soberly, to the Praise and Honour of my Maker; whereas by this wicked Course, all the Bounty and Kindness of this Gentleman, became a Snare to me, was a meer Bait to the Devil’s Hook; I receiv’d his Kindness at the dear Expence of Body and Soul, mortgaging Faith, Religion, Conscience, and Modesty, for (as I may call it) a Morsel of Bread; or, if you will, ruin’d my Soul from a Principle of Gratitude, and gave myself up to the Devil, to shew myself grateful to my Benefactor: I must do the Gentleman that Justice, as to say, I verily believe that he did nothing but what he thought was Lawful; and I must do that Justice upon myself, as to say, I did what my own Conscience convinc’d me at the very Time I did it, was horribly unlawful, scandalous, and abominable.
But Poverty was my Snare; dreadful Poverty! the Misery I had been in, was great, such as wou’d make the Heart tremble at the Apprehensions of its Return; and I might appeal to any that has had any Experience of the World, whether one so entirely destitute as I was, of all manner of all Helps, or Friends, either to support me, or to assist me to support myself, could withstand the Proposal; not that I plead this as a Justification of my Conduct, but that it may move the Pity, even of those that abhor the Crime.
Besides this, I was young, handsome, and with all the Mortifications I had met with, was vain, and that not a little; and as it was a new thing, so it was a pleasant thing, to be courted, caress’d, embrac’d, and high Professions of Affection made to me by a Man so agreeable, and so able to do me good.
Add to this, that if I had ventur’d to disoblige this Gentleman, I had no Friend in the World to have Recourse to; I had no Prospect, no, not of a Bit of Bread; I had nothing before me, but to fall back into the same Misery that I had been in before.
Amy had but too much Rhetorick in this Cause; she represented all those Things in their proper Colours; she argued them all with her utmost Skill, and at last, the Merry Jade, when she came to Dress me, Look ye, Madam, said she, if you won’t consent, tell him you’ll do as Rachael did to Jacob 47 when she could have no Children, put her Maid to Bed to him; tell him you cannot comply with him, but there’s Amy, he may ask her the Question, she has promis’d me she won’t deny you.
And wou’d you have me say so, Amy? said I.
No, Madam, but I wou’d really have you do so, besides you are undone if you do not; and if my doing it wou’d save you from being undone, as I said before, he shall if he will; if he asks me, I won’t deny him, not I; Hang me if I do, says Amy.
Well, I know not what to do, says I, to Amy.
Do! says Amy, Your Choice is fair and plain; here you may have a handsome, charming Gentleman, be rich, live pleasantly, and in Plenty; or refuse him, and want a Dinner, go in Rags, live in Tears; in short, beg and starve; you know this is the Case, Madam, says Amy, I wonder how you can say you know not what to do.
Well, Amy, says I, the Case is as you say, and I think verily I must yield to him; but then, said I, mov’d by Conscience, don’t talk any more of your Cant, of its being Lawful that I ought to Marry aga
in, and that he ought to Marry again, and such Stuff as that; ’tis all Nonsence, says I, Amy, there’s nothing in it, let me hear no more of that; for if I yield, ’tis in vain to mince the Matter, I am a Whore, Amy, neither better nor worse, I assure you.
I don’t think so, Madam, by no means, says Amy, I wonder how you can talk so; and then she run on with her Argument of the Unreasonableness that a Woman should be oblig’d to live single, or a Man to live single in such Cases, as before: Well, Amy, said I, come let us dispute no more, for the longer I enter into that Part, the greater my Scruples will be; but if I let it alone, the Necessity of my present Circumstances is such, that I believe I shall yield to him, if he should importune me much about it, but I should be glad he would not do it at all, but leave me as I am.
As to that, Madam, you may depend, says Amy, he expects to have you for his Bedfellow to Night; I saw it plainly in his Management all Day, and at last he told you so too, as plain, I think, as he cou’d: Well, well, Amy, said I, I don’t know what to say, if he will, he must, I think, I don’t know how to resist such a Man, that has done so much for me: I don’t know how you shou’d, says Amy.
Thus Amy and I canvass’d the Business between us; the Jade prompted the Crime, which I had but too much Inclination to commit; that is to say, not as a Crime, for I had nothing of the Vice in my Constitution; my Spirits were far from being high; my Blood had no Fire in it, to kindle the Flame of Desire; but the Kindness and good Humour of the Man, and the Dread of my own Circumstances concurr’d to bring me to the Point, and I even resolv’d, before he ask’d, to give up my Virtue to him, whenever he should put it to the Question.
In this I was a double Offender, whatever he was; for I was resolv’d to commit the Crime, knowing and owning it to be a Crime; he, if it was true as he said, was fully perswaded it was Lawful, and in that Perswasion he took the Measures, and us’d all the Circumlocutions which I am going to speak of.
ABOUT two Hours after he was gone, came a Leaden-Hall 48 Basket-Woman, with a whole Load of good Things for the Mouth; the Particulars are not to the Purpose, and brought Orders to get Supper by Eight a-Clock; however I did not intend to begin to dress any thing, till I saw him; and he gave me time enough, for he came before Seven; so that Amy, who had gotten one to help her, got every thing ready in Time.
We sat down to Supper about Eight, and were indeed, very merry; Amy made us some Sport, for she was a Girl of Spirit and Wit; and with her Talk she made us laugh very often, and yet the Jade manag’d her Wit with all the good Manners imaginable.
But to shorten the Story; after Supper, he took me up into his Chamber, where Amy had made a good Fire, and there he pull’d out a great many Papers, and spread them upon a little Table, and then took me by the Hand, and after kissing me very much, he enter’d into a Discourse of his Circumstances, and of mine, how they agreed in several things exactly; for Example, That I was abandon’d of a Husband in the Prime of my Youth and Vigour, and he of a Wife in his Middle-Age; how the End of Marriage was destroy’d by the Treatment we had either of us receiv’d; and it wou’d be very hard that we should be ty’d by the Formality of the Contract, where the Essence of it was destroy’d: I interrupted him, and told him, There was a vast Difference between our Circumstances, and that in the most essential Part; namely, That he was Rich, and I was Poor; that he was above the World, and I infinitely below it; that his Circumstances were very easie, mine miserable, and this was an Inequality the most essential that cou’d be imagin’d: As to that, my Dear, says he, I have taken such Measures as shall make an Equality still; and with that, he shew’d me a Contract in Writing, wherein he engag’d himself to me; to cohabit constantly with me; to provide for me in all Respects as a Wife; and repeating in the Preamble, a long Account of the Nature and Reason of our living together, and an Obligation in the Penalty of 7000 l. never to abandon me; and at last, shew’d me a Bond for 500 l. to be paid to me, or to my Assigns,49 within three Months after his Death.
He read over all these things to me, and then in a most moving, affectionate Manner, and in Words not to be answer’d, he said, Now, my Dear, is this not sufficient? Can you object any thing against it? If not, as I believe you will not, then let us debate this Matter no longer; with that, he pull’d out a silk Purse, which had threescore Guineas in it, and threw them into my Lap, and concluded all the rest of his Discourse with Kisses, and Protestations of his Love; of which indeed, I had abundant Proof.
Pity humane Frailty, you that read of a Woman reduc’d in her Youth, and Prime, to the utmost Misery and Distress; and rais’d again, as above, by the unexpected and surprizing Bounty of a Stranger; I say pity her if she was not able, after all these things, to make any more Resistance.
However, I stood out a little longer still, I ask’d him, how he cou’d expect that I cou’d come into a Proposal of such Consequence, the very first Time it was mov’d to me? and that I ought (if I consented to it) to capitulate with him, that he should never upbraid me with Easiness, and consenting too soon: He said, No; but on the contrary, he would take it as a Mark of the greatest Kindness I could show him; then he went on to give Reasons why there was no Occasion to use the ordinary Ceremony of Delay; or to wait a reasonable Time of Courtship, which was only to avoid Scandal; but, as this was private, it had nothing of that Nature in it; that he had been courting me some time, by the best of Courtship, viz. doing Acts of Kindness to me; and that he had given Testimonies of his sincere Affection to me, by Deeds, not by flattering Trifles, and the usual Courtship of Words, which were often found to have very little Meaning; that he took me not as a Mistress, but as his Wife; and protested, it was clear to him he might lawfully do it, and that I was perfectly at Liberty; and assur’d me by all that it was possible for an Honest Man to say, that he would treat me as his Wife, as long as he liv’d; in a Word, he conquer’d all the little Resistance I intended to make; he protested he lov’d me above all the World, and begg’d I would for once believe him; that he had never deceiv’d me, and never would, but would make it his Study to make my Life comfortable and happy, and to make me forget the Misery I had gone through: I stood still a-while, and said nothing, but seeing him eager for my Answer, I smil’d, and looking up at him; and must I then, says I, say Yes, at first asking? Must I depend upon your Promise? Why then, said I, upon the Faith of that Promise, and in the Sence of that inexpressible Kindness you have shown me, you shall be oblig’d, and I will be wholly yours to the End of my Life; and with that, I took his Hand which held me by the Hand, and gave it a Kiss.
And thus in Gratitude for the Favours I receiv’d from a Man, was all Sence of Religion, and Duty to God, all Regard to Virtue and Honour, given up at once, and we were to call one another Man and Wife, who, in the Sence of the Laws, both of God and our Country, were no more than two Adulterers, in short, a Whore and a Rogue; nor, as I have said above, was my Conscience silent in it, tho’, it seems, his was; for I sinn’d with open Eyes, and thereby had a double Guilt upon me; as I always said his Notions were of another Kind, and he either was before of the Opinion, or argued himself into it now, that we were both Free, and might lawfully Marry.
But I was quite of another Side, nay, and my Judgment was right, but my Circumstances were my Temptation; the Terrors behind me look’d blacker than the Terrors before me; and the dreadful Argument of wanting Bread, and being run into the horrible Distresses I was in before, master’d all my Resolution, and I gave myself up, as above.
The rest of the Evening we spent very agreeably to me; he was perfectly good-humour’d, and was at that time very merry; then he made Amy dance with him, and I told him, I wou’d put Amy to Bed to him; Amy said, with all her Heart, she never had been a Bride in her Life; in short, he made the Girl so merry, that had he not been to lye with me the same Night, I believe he wou’d have play’d the Fool with Amy for half an Hour, and the Girl wou’d no more have refus’d him, than I intended to do; yet before, I had always found her a very modest Wench, as any I ever saw in all my Life;
but, in short, the Mirth of that Night, and a few more such afterwards, ruin’d the Girl’s Modesty for ever, as shall appear by and by, in its Place.
So far does fooling and toying sometimes go, that I know nothing a young Woman has to be more cautious of; so far had this innocent Girl gone in jesting between her and I, and in talking that she would let him lye with her, if he would but be kinder to me, that at last she let him lye with her in earnest; and so empty was I now of all Principle, that I encourag’d the doing it almost before my Face.
I say but too justly, that I was empty of Principle, because, as above, I had yielded to him, not as deluded to believe it Lawful, but as overcome by his Kindness, and terrify’d at the Fear of my own Misery, if he should leave me; so with my Eyes open, and with my Conscience, as I may say, awake, I sinn’d, knowing it to be a Sin, but having no Power to resist; when this had thus made a Hole in my Heart,50 and I was come to such a height, as to transgress against the Light of my own Conscience, I was then fit for any Wickedness, and Conscience left off speaking, where it found it cou’d not be heard.
But to return to our Story; having consented, as above, to his Proposal, we had not much more to do; he gave me my Writings, and the Bond for my Maintenance during his Life, and for 500 1. after his Death; and so far was he from abating his Affection to me afterwards, that two Year after we were thus, as he call’d it, Marry’d, he made his Will, and gave me a Thousand Pound more, and all my Houshold-Stuff, Plate, &c. which was considerable too.
