The Fortunes and Misfortunes of the Famous Moll Flanders

by Daniel Defoe

don't want a husband; besides, I dare trust you with mymoney, which is all I have in the world, and if that were gone, I maytrust myself anywhere.'

  He said some things in jest that were very handsome and mannerly, andwould have pleased me very well if they had been in earnest; but thatpassed over, I took the directions, and appointed to attend him at hishouse at seven o'clock the same evening.

  When I came he made several proposals for my placing my money in thebank, in order to my having interest for it; but still some difficultyor other came in the way, which he objected as not safe; and I foundsuch a sincere disinterested honesty in him, that I began to muse withmyself, that I had certainly found the honest man I wanted, and that Icould never put myself into better hands; so I told him with a greatdeal of frankness that I had never met with a man or woman yet that Icould trust, or in whom I could think myself safe, but that I saw hewas so disinterestedly concerned for my safety, that I said I wouldfreely trust him with the management of that little I had, if he wouldaccept 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 mehe could not but take it very kindly that I had so good an opinion ofhim; that he would not deceive me, that he would do anything in hispower to serve me, and expect no salary; but that he could not by anymeans accept of a trust, that it might bring him to be suspected ofself-interest, and that if I should die he might have disputes with myexecutors, 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 isthe time to suspect him, and not put the trust into his hands, andwhenever I did suspect him, he could but throw it up then and refuse togo 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 Idied, 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 faithfulto me as I was satisfied he would be.

  He changed his countenance at this discourse, and asked me how I cameto have so much good-will for him; and, looking very much pleased, saidhe 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 init, and to wish, as he did, was not to be allowed, 'twas criminal tohis wife.

  He told me I was wrong. 'For,' says he, 'madam, as I said before, Ihave a wife and no wife, and 'twould be no sin to me to wish herhanged, if that were all.' 'I know nothing of your circumstances thatway, 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 knowwhat I am, or what she is.'

  'That's true,' said I; 'sir, I do not know what you are, but I believeyou to be an honest man, and that's the cause of all my confidence inyou.'

  'Well, well,' says he, 'and so I am, I hope, too. But I am somethingelse 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 withsuch an awkward smile, that I perceived it was what struck very closeto him, and he looked dismally when he said it.

  'That alters the case indeed, sir,' said I, 'as to that part you werespeaking of; but a cuckold, you know, may be an honest man; it does notalter that case at all. Besides, I think,' said I, 'since your wife isso dishonest to you, you are too honest to her to own her for yourwife; 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 beplain with you, madam,' added he, 'I am no contended cuckold neither:on the other hand, I assure you it provokes me the highest degree, butI 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 hecould not have done with it, so I let him alone, and he went on to tellme all the circumstances of his case, too long to relate here;particularly, that having been out of England some time before he cameto the post he was in, she had had two children in the meantime by anofficer of the army; and that when he came to England and, upon hersubmission, took her again, and maintained her very well, yet she ranaway from him with a linen-draper's apprentice, robbed him of what shecould 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 ofyour sex, but by inclination, and for the sake of the vice.'

  Well, I pitied him, and wished him well rid of her, and still wouldhave talked of my business, but it would not do. At last he lookssteadily at me. 'Look you, madam,' says he, 'you came to ask advice ofme, 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 sofriendly to me, and I think I must ask advice of you. Tell me, whatmust a poor abused fellow do with a whore? What can I do to do myselfjustice upon her?'

  'Alas! sir,' says I, ''tis a case too nice for me to advise in, but itseems she has run away from you, so you are rid of her fairly; what canyou desire more?' 'Ay, she is gone indeed,' said he, 'but I am notclear of her for all that.'

  'That's true,' says I; 'she may indeed run you into debt, but the lawhas furnished you with methods to prevent that also; you may cry herdown, as they call it.'

  'No, no,' says he, 'that is not the case neither; I have taken care ofall that; 'tis not that part that I speak of, but I would be rid of herso that I might marry again.'

  'Well, sir,' says I, 'then you must divorce her. If you can prove whatyou say, you may certainly get that done, and then, I suppose, you arefree.'

  'That's very tedious and expensive,' says he.

  'Why,' says I, 'if you can get any woman you like to take your word, Isuppose your wife would not dispute the liberty with you that she takesherself.'

  'Ay,' says he, 'but 'twould be hard to bring an honest woman to dothat; and for the other sort,' says he, 'I have had enough of her tomeddle with any more whores.'

  It occurred to me presently, 'I would have taken your word with all myheart, 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 womanaccepting you, for you condemn all that should venture upon you atonce, and conclude, that really a woman that takes you now can't behonest.'

  'Why,' says he, 'I wish you would satisfy me that an honest woman wouldtake me; I'd venture it'; and then turns short upon me, 'Will you takeme, 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, Ishall answer you plainly, No, not I; my business is of another kindwith you, and I did not expect you would have turned my seriousapplication to you, in my own distracted case, into a comedy.'

  'Why, madam,' says he, 'my case is as distracted as yours can be, and Istand in as much need of advice as you do, for I think if I have notrelief somewhere, I shall be made myself, and I know not what course totake, I protest to you.'

  'Why, sir,' says I, ''tis easy to give advice in your case, much easierthan it is in mine.' 'Speak then,' says he, 'I beg of you, for now youencourage me.'

  'Why,' says I, 'if your case is so plain as you say it is, you may belegally divorced, and then you may find honest women enough to ask thequestion 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; butshall 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 thequestion I shall ask.'

  'You may ask what questions you please, but you have my answer to thatalready,' said I. 'Besides, sir,' said I, 'can you think so ill of meas that I would give any answer to such a question beforehand? Can anywoman alive believe you in earnest, or think you design
anything but tobanter her?'

  'Well, well,' says he, 'I do not banter you, I am in earnest; considerof it.'

  'But, sir,' says I, a little gravely, 'I came to you about my ownbusiness; 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