by Daniel Defoe
as with a dart.
It is true this poor unguarded wretch was in no danger from me, thoughI was greatly apprehensive at first of what danger I might be in fromhim; but he was really to be pitied in one respect, that he seemed tobe a good sort of man in himself; a gentleman that had no harm in hisdesign; a man of sense, and of a fine behaviour, a comely handsomeperson, a sober solid countenance, a charming beautiful face, andeverything that could be agreeable; only had unhappily had some drinkthe night before, had not been in bed, as he told me when we weretogether; was hot, and his blood fired with wine, and in that conditionhis reason, as it were asleep, had given him up.
As for me, my business was his money, and what I could make of him; andafter that, if I could have found out any way to have done it, I wouldhave sent him safe home to his house and to his family, for 'twas tento one but he had an honest, virtuous wife and innocent children, thatwere anxious for his safety, and would have been glad to have gottenhim 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 andfilth of all the town! how would he be trembling for fear he had gotthe pox, for fear a dart had struck through his liver, and hate himselfevery time he looked back upon the madness and brutality of hisdebauch! how would he, if he had any principles of honour, as I verilybelieve he had--I say, how would he abhor the thought of giving any illdistemper, if he had it, as for aught he knew he might, to his modestand virtuous wife, and thereby sowing the contagion in the life-bloodof his posterity.
Would such gentlemen but consider the contemptible thoughts which thevery women they are concerned with, in such cases as these, have ofthem, it would be a surfeit to them. As I said above, they value notthe pleasure, they are raised by no inclination to the man, the passivejade 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 hispockets searching for what she can find there, and of which he can nomore be sensible in the moment of his folly that he can forethink of itwhen he goes about it.
I knew a woman that was so dexterous with a fellow, who indeed deservedno better usage, that while he was busy with her another way, conveyedhis purse with twenty guineas in it out of his fob-pocket, where he hadput it for fear of her, and put another purse with gilded counters init into the room of it. After he had done, he says to her, 'Now han'tyou picked my pocket?' She jested with him, and told him she supposedhe had not much to lose; he put his hand to his fob, and with hisfingers felt that his purse was there, which fully satisfied him, andso she brought off his money. And this was a trade with her; she kepta sham gold watch, that is, a watch of silver gilt, and a purse ofcounters in her pocket to be ready on all such occasions, and I doubtnot practiced it with success.
I came home with this last booty to my governess, and really when Itold her the story, it so affected her that she was hardly able toforbear tears, to know how such a gentleman ran a daily risk of beingundone every time a glass of wine got into his head.
But as to the purchase I got, and how entirely I stripped him, she toldme 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 everhe 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 thisgentleman; the description I had given her of him, his dress, hisperson, his face, everything concurred to make her think of a gentlemanwhose character she knew, and family too. She mused a while, and Igoing 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 anyaccount in the world; he has had injury enough already by me, and Iwould not be instrumental to do him any more.' 'No, no,' says she, 'Iwill do him no injury, I assure you, but you may let me satisfy mycuriosity a little, for if it is he, I warrant you I find it out.' Iwas a little startled at that, and told her, with an apparent concernin my face, that by the same rule he might find me out, and then I wasundone. 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. Ihave kept your counsel in worse things than these; sure you may trustme in this.' So I said no more at that time.
She laid her scheme another way, and without acquainting me of it, butshe was resolved to find it out if possible. So she goes to a certainfriend of hers who was acquainted in the family that she guessed at,and told her friend she had some extraordinary business with such agentleman (who, by the way, was no less than a baronet, and of a verygood family), and that she knew not how to come at him without somebodyto introduce her. Her friend promised her very readily to do it, andaccordingly 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 ---- wasat home, but that he had met with a disaster and was very ill, andthere was no speaking with him. 'What disaster?' says my governesshastily, as if she was surprised at it. 'Why,' says her friend, 'hehad been at Hampstead to visit a gentleman of his acquaintance, and ashe came back again he was set upon and robbed; and having got a littledrink 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, hisfine periwig, and what money he had in his pocket, which wasconsiderable, to be sure, for Sir ---- never goes without a purse ofguineas about him.'
'Pshaw!' says my old governess, jeering, 'I warrant you he has gotdrunk now and got a whore, and she has picked his pocket, and so hecomes home to his wife and tells her he has been robbed. That's an oldsham; 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 ascivil a gentleman, there is not a finer man, nor a soberer, graver,modester person in the whole city; he abhors such things; there'snobody 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 Ishould find there was something of that kind in it; your modest men incommon opinion are sometimes no better than other people, only theykeep 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 beenrobbed.' 'Nay,' says my governess, 'it may be he has; it is nobusiness of mine, I tell you; I only want to speak with him; mybusiness is of another nature.' 'But,' says her friend, 'let yourbusiness be of what nature it will, you cannot see him yet, for he isnot 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 besure,' 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, forthey used him barbarously.' 'Poor gentleman,' says my governess, 'Imust wait, then, till he recovers'; and adds, 'I hope it will not belong, for I want very much to speak with him.'
Away she comes to me and tells me this story. 'I have found out yourfine gentleman, and a fine gentleman he was,' says she; 'but, mercy onhim, he is in a sad pickle now. I wonder what the d--l you have doneto him; why, you have almost killed him.' I looked at her withdisorder 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,' saidI, '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 friendhad said to her. 'Well, then,' says I, 'he fell into bad hands after Ileft him, for I am sure I left him safe enough.'
About ten days after, or a little more, my governess goes again to herfriend, to introduce her to this gentleman; she had inquired other waysin the meantime, and found that he was about again, if not abroadagain, so she got leave to speak
with him.
She was a woman of a admirable address, and wanted nobody to introduceher; she told her tale much better than I shall be able to tell it forher, for she was a mistress of her tongue, as I have said already. Shetold him that she came, though a stranger, with a single design ofdoing him a service and he should find she had no other end in it; thatas she came purely on so friendly an account, she begged promise fromhim, that if he did not accept what she should officiously propose hewould not take it ill that she meddled with what was not her business.She assured him
