The Character of a Libertine
Zealot.
To describe him right, is a task like that of the Taylor who took measure of the Devil; for there is nothing more like him upon Earth then he: He is lined with Covetousness, and covered with Hypocrisie, the Root and Cloak of all evil. Although at this time he carries a Bible, yet upon occasion he wears a Sword; so that it is hard to say, whether he be of the Tribe of Simeon or Levi. He swallows contrary Oaths faster then the Eagles in the Tower do gobbets of flesh; for the way to Hell, and the Conscience of a Libertine, are two broad things. He condemns the lawful Rites and Ceremonies of the Church; and is more ravished with the squeaking of a Tythe-pig, then with the Musick of Organs.
He appears at his Preachment (like Æsops Crow) in a dress of borrowed feathers; for he preaches the works of other men, which are so much the worse for the coming out of his mouth, as Wares for being of the second hand. But it would grieve your heart to see how he racks the ancient Fathers, when he makes his own confession, and mangles the Modern Divines more barbarously then the Hang-man did the body of Hugh Peters; I am sure poor Priscian gets many a broken head.
His Eloquence consists altogether in rayling, as though he had got his education at Billinsgate. In his discourse he runs on like a Mad-dog, foaming and open-mouth’d, yelping at the Reverend Bishops; and even accounts many of his own Brethren, the Sectaries, as mad as himself. Yet sometimes he perceives that his stuff is too short for the hour-Glass; and then the wheels of his Rhetorick move very heavily: he then spends much time in humming and spitting; and with the wiping of his Nose, makes many a filthy Parenthesis.
As for his Text, he handles that as Moses did his Rod when it was turned into a Serpent, he lays it down, and runs away from it: yet his Sermon lies all written before him; for the poor Copy-holder in Divinity can do nothing without his Notes. This his weakness, he would have you think, is his worth; for he chargeth men of abler parts with presumption: Yet when he prays, he shuts his Eyes, preferring Nonsense and Tautologies before the Divine Lyturgy. Vain Wretch, that dares not speak to men without Papers, and yet presumes to talk to God extempore! As for his Congregation, he Saints or reprobates them, according to what they give him; and like a Gypsie, tells good Fortune to none but those that cross his hand with a piece of silver; and by him, as well as by the Pope, you may be Canonized for mony: Thus he is a meer Balaam, that blesseth and curseth for reward: he that opposeth him, acts the part of an Angel; but he that submits to him is worse then an Ass. If you consider his constancy, he is a kind of Religious Proteus, that is now ready to fawn upon that Power against which he hath so long bark’d. If therefore there be a Church in England which consists of men, surely, The Orthodox, faithful, constant Ministers, are the Doors, Windows, Pillars, Bells and Candlesticks; and the rest serve only for Weathercocks.
It is confessed, that at the beginning of this happy Reformation, he was a little stubborn: perhaps, expecting a second War; but now (poor heart) he hath learned to pray for his Majesty: but (if you could hear the language of his Soul) it is so, as impatient heirs pray for their rich fathers. There are two sorts of men, who having escaped a deserved pair of Gallows, pray for the King very strangely, that is, a Felon, whilst the Executioner burns his hand; and a Traytor, whilst the Devil sears his Conscience.
If you would know his name, you may finde it subscrib’d to an ugly Petition; for where Bradshaw was a Pilate that condemned, he was one of those Jews that cry’d Crucifie. He professes sorrow for the Martyrdom of our late Soveraign; but believe him not, for his hand helped to hale him to the Block. In a word, he is (at best) but a State-Crocodile, and one that is Maudlin-drunk with the Kings blood.
No more, but if you chance to meet with a Hue and Cry, you may tell them, that he was lately in a Sequestred Parsonage.
This Character was hugely pleasing to the Drugster; and indeed, he and his two Companions, the Scrivener, and Gregory the Taylor, did all conclude, that it was very ingeniously true, and gave much satisfaction to them in that particular; and they all agreed, That the Dissenters from the Church, were the Murtherers of their Prince.
They all so well approving of what had been said of these Varlets, I told them that I could likewise relate somewhat else of the same Gentlemans composure, who writ that Character; and which I did conclude to be altogether as ingenious, and that it was a great novelty, having never as yet been in Print: they being earnest in their desires to hear me, I told them it was only the fifth Fable of Æsop Moralized; and thereupon I began as follows:
This, said I, was the Fable, which though it had already admitted of many Paraphrases and Morals, yet was never yet in my opinion so fit and aptly moralized, as in what I shall here recite, which I did thus:
If they were pleas’d with the foregoing Characters, this Fable thus moralized gave them much more satisfaction, and highly contented them; for the truth contained in it, was undeniable, and it was expressed with much ingenuity, and they told me that certainly he that composed these two things, the Character and Fable, was a person very ingenious, and able to convert any that were seduced in that Faction, unless they were very obstinate, as most of that Faction were: for having been Rebellious to their Prince, they made that saying true, That Rebellion is as the sin of Witchcraft, not to be repented of.
In this discourse of the several Factions in Religion we spent some time; and the Drugster being best acquainted with all of them, made a discourse of every one in particular from top to bottom: and when he came to speak of them, he told us that he supposed there would now in a short time be some end of these growing Factions; Because, said he, that Quakerism is the last that is risen up, and it is now above twelve years since it began to be famous; and though hitherto it encreases, yet they have not found any other novelty from that, as at first there was out of the first Religious faction: but there is none that is produced by the Quaker; so that it is hoped that will be the last of the Factions. I have heard of one small Faction that contradicts the Quakers, and that is one Muggeltons Sect, who together with one Reeve, does pretend to be the two last Witnesses that are to come upon earth. Reeve is some time since dead, but Muggleton surviving him, is a great enemy to the Quakers, and their chief Opponent; for they questioning his Call, he for that cause Damns them; and so absolute he is, that he says, after he hath damn’d them, they cannot be saved, not by Providence it self. He professes in one of his writings, being an Interpretation of the 11 Chapter of the Revelations, That he, and he alone can give a true Interpretation of the Scripture, and unfold the whole Counsel of God, concerning himself, the Devil, and all Mankind from the foundation of the world to all Eternity; and this was never revealed by any of the sons of men, untill now: Thus subscribing his Papers, By Lodowick Muggleton, one of the two last Commissionated Witnesses and Prophets of the only High, Immortal, Glorious God, Christ Jesus.
We told the Drugster that this Sect of Muggletons we had not heard of; and I being very desirous to be further acquainted with this opinion, asked him if he had read his Writings, Yes, said he, and there is as extraordinary matters and opinions handled and treated of therein, as any Sect that this last age hath produced: nay, and more absolute he would make himself then all others; but he more especially writes against the Quakers, in a manner condemning them all in general. I desiring to be more particularly informed of his writings, he granted my request, and proceeded as followeth:
This Book of his writing, said he, falling into the hands of one Edward Bourn a Quaker, is by him despised and cavilled at; for, he said that he had perused it till he was weary with looking into it, for it was one of the dirtiest and confusedst pieces of work that ever he saw: and many other particular cavils had he against it; which Muggleton hearing of, is so much offended, that he writes a Letter to him, dated in August 1662. and there he thus concludes: I write these Lines unto you Edward Bourn, knowing you to be of the seed of the Serpent, and appointed to eternal Damnation before you were born; though you know it not, I do know it, by your speaking evil of that Doctrine which is declared by us the Witnesses of the Spirit, by calling it deceit, confusion, and lies, with many more wicked speeches against the purest truth that ever was declared by Prophet or Apostle, because this is the Commission of the Spirit, and the last Witness of God on Earth.
Therefore, for these your hard sayings against the Doctrine of this Commission of the Spirit; In obedience unto my Commission, I pronounce you cursed and damned, both Soul and Body, from the presence of God, elect men and Angels, to Eternity; neither shall that light within you, nor any God deliver you from this curse, but according to my word it shall be upon you, because you shall know, that God hath given power unto Man to curse you to eternity, and that there is a Prophet of the Lord now in England.
This Letter being thus subscribed, was printed and sent to the said Edward Bourn. Also another to one Samuel Hooker and W. S. both Quakers, wherein amongst other things he thus writes:
First, I declare as I am a Prophet and Messenger of the true God, that the people called Quakers are not the children of the most high God, but for the generality of them, they are children of the Devil, and are the very Seed of the Devil, and were begotten by him; and I (as I am an Ambassador ordained of God by voyce of Words) can as truely say; that they are the Seed of the Serpent, and so the children of the Devil, as Christ did to the Jews, when he said, that they were Serpents, yea Devils, and the Devil was their father. So can I say by you Quakers, and many thousands more as well as you, that you were the children of the Devil, that were begotten by him, and not begotten by Adam, who never came through the loyns of Adam, though they came through the womb of Eve. For this I know, Cain was the first-born of the Devil, and Adam had no part in the begetting of him. And from this Cain came the Jews that Christ called Serpents and Devils.
Much more he writes against the Quakers, and is as absolute in his sentence of Damnation against these two, being almost in the same words as the former. His writings in general are filled with many strange Opinions, and he is now the greatest Enemy of the Quakers, telling them, that they are but some of the melancholy sort of Ranters, and by falling from Ranting to Quaking, are now worse then before; for before they were in the Wilderness, but are now returned back into Egypt, and so the further off from entring into the Land of Canaan: and in one place he is pretty pleasant with the Quakers, for saith he, The greatest things that ever I heard the Quakers do, is to find fault with a piece of Ribbon, Gold-button, or a Bandstring, and such like, and to possess themselves with a melancholly spirit of Witchcraft, and so fall into Witchcraft-fits, to lie humming and groaning, which doth fright the beholders; so instead of those merry-Devils which they had upon the Ranting-score, where all was good, lying with their Neighbours wife, deflowring Virgins, cozening and cheating, and destroying every one in their outward Estate which did entertain them, and now that Devil is cast out, now they are grown in as much extream on the other side; for now they are grown so precise and exact for Apparel and for words, no words must be placed out of joynt, so that no man can almost tell how to deal with them; and this melancholly Devil hath cast out the Ranting Devil, which makes them so proud and stiff-necked, thinking themselves that they are better then other people, when as they are worse; for they are possessed with the Spirit of Witchcraft, which makes them two-fold more the children of the Devil then they were before; which none can discover but this Commission of the Spirit; neither did I ever hear by any which heard the Quakers speak, that they did ever preach any sound Doctrine, but only exhort people to hearken to the light within them, which is a very low & easie thing for every ordinary understanding to comprehend; and this is the cause there is such a multitude of men and women fall into it, &c. And thus did he proceed, his whole writing being to pull them down, and set himself up.
Soon after the Printing of these Letters, I met with a Quaker, an acquaintance of mine, and asked of him whether he had seen these Letters of Muggletons, which went by the name of The Neck of the Quakers broken, or cut in sunder by the two-edg’d sword of the Spirit, which is put into my mouth. He reply’d, Yea he had. What thinkest thou, said I, of those of your perswasion in general, and more particularly of those persons whom he hath damn’d? I think him to be a deluded person, said he, for I have known him long, and also his fellow Prophet Reeve, who is since dead: and I remember this one passage, that one of our perswasion did calmly discourse with Reeve about many principal things of his Judgement and Opinion: and though they did not agree to every thing, yet Reeve said he believed he would be converted, for that he was confident he was of the seed of Faith, and not of that of the Devil; onely that his eyes were not yet opened, but in time they would. And thus they parted.
Soon after Muggleton (who was always more vigilant than Reeve) being affronted by some Quakers, according to his custom pronounced the sentence of damnation against them; which the Quakers who had discoursed with Reeve hearing, and meeting with Muggleton, told him he had done very ill, in being so rash as to damn them: And further, charged him with wandring up and down to make Sects. To this Muggleton replyed; It is not I, it is those of the Quakers that wander up and down; as those that went to New England, and John Perrot unto Rome, to get the Pope and his Bishops to be Disciples of Christ; and there to be punished in his body: and when he came home again, to be damn’d to eternity, by me, for his pains; because he went by the light within him, and was not sent by the voice of God without him: Therefore eternal damnation will be his reward for going without a Commission from God; and so will all the Ministers of the Quakers. And whereas you say that my mouth is full of cursing, and that I shall reap of the same; likewise you say, that I am out of Christs and the Apostles Doctrine, that said, bless and curse not, with many other sayings: As for my mouth being full of cursing, that is my Commission: neither do I curse any but Devils, which are appointed for it of God; and there is never a one that I have cursed, that shall escape that curse which I have denounced upon them; neither will any God deliver them from it: for I do curse none but the Seed of the Serpent, who had his curse denounced upon him and his Seed, at the beginning by God himself.
To this discourse of Muggletons, our Brother the Quaker making some angry reply, in contradicting what he had said, Muggleton did for that cause presently pronounce the sentence of Damnation, alledging that he was of the Seed of the Devil. Thus, said the Quaker, though Reeve said he was not of the Seed of the Devil; yet Muggleton, his fellow-Prophet, said he was, and therefore proceeded against him to damnation. Now whether he be damned or saved, judge you: And therefore, said he, I think it matters not much what he says, because they thus contradict one another.
And thus we parted, and I concluded, that as it was no great matter what Muggleton said or did; so there was no great heed to be taken with what was, or should be said or done by the Quakers: I believing and knowing that what Muggleton had said of them as to their humours, and falling from Ranting to Quaking, and such like particulars, to be true; though I believed him, and all other Factions to be alike deluded and mistaken in the general.
And, continued he, though this Muggletons opinions and Doctrine be thus strange, and he a very inconsiderable unlearned fellow, being by Profession a Taylor; yet he hath gained many to his belief, who give him much respect; but he takes no money of them, onely he gets his writings printed, and distributing them among his people, they pay him for them: but in the main, he works at his Trade for a lively-hood: and he hath, as well as the Quakers, suffered Imprisonment, but hath been released and favoured, as I have heard, by some persons of Honour, who are well-willers to him.
Thus did the Drugster discourse of the Factions, and we with him did hope and conclude, that since there was no greater a growth in faction, there having been no new ones for some years last past, that it was more then probable that they would consume and moulder away of themselves.
The forenoon being spent wholly in the large Narrative of the Adventures of my now fellow-Companions and Guests, and the most of the afternoon in this Discourse, it was time now to think of parting; and they being mindful of the entertainment they were to give me the next day on board of their Ship, being out of my house furnished with some necessary provisions, all parted from me.
CHAP. XXXIII.
He is treated by the Travellers on board of their Ship, where he sees the two women-Travellers: he invites and entertains them at his house; where upon enquiry and discourse, he discovers the two Women to be of his acquaintance when in England.
My Company being thus parted from me, I began to consider all the passages that had been this day related to me; and after a serious contemplation of them, I concluded, that I might place this day as the most remarkable in all my life; for I was acquainted with so much variety of experiences, as I had in a manner been hitherto wholly ignorant of; what had happened to me in the former part of my life, having been trivial in comparison of what I had now lately heard: and I concluded, that if I should have travelled to all parts of the world to have found out Companions fit for me, I could never have been better accommodated with those that should have been so agreeable to my natural inclination, then those whom fortune had now brought to me. I had long since made it my resolve, to make my life as comfortable as I could, according to the old saying amongst those of my quality, Though a short life, yet a merry: and I saw Providence had put such an opportunity into my hands, that I had all things provided for me, and nothing before their arrival was wanting but such a Society. For I had a plentiful estate, but that gave me little content, being without the usual society of the Wits; and I now was likely not only to enjoy that in a full measure, but also there was some female Company, the two Lasses in Mens apparel, who I understood were good Girls, and such I hoped as would not prove hard-hearted, and deny one of their Country-men the usual civility of their enjoyments: I did not much question it, because indeed I was so much in favour with Venus, that I was hardly ever refused that courtesie by any of her Votaresses.
I told my wife, there was a great likelihood of much profit to be gained by these Guests, who were resolved to take up my house wholly for their quarters, and therefore I ordered all things to be provided in ample manner for their constant entertainment: for though I was now rich enough, yet I knew not how soon fortune might turn tayl upon me, and therefore knowing that my Guests were all well provided with Moneys, I was resolved to put in with them for a share of it: But I had no thoughts of wronging them, or putting any trick upon them; for it is accounted a very great crime in the greatest proficient of Roguery, to cozen or cheat his fellow-Thief, and a thing seldome done amongst them. I had now some thoughts of leaving my black wife and that Country; and when these my new acquaintance should leave this place for another, as I suppose they would, then to go with them, for there was nothing there that gave any great invitation to stay in it, my inclination leading me rather to visit some European Country.
These considerations took me up some time; and night coming on, I betook me to my Cot, where I took my ordinary repose; and the next morning being come, I apparelled my self the richest that I could, that I might add some grace to my person, being to visit two of my Country-women, in whose favour I was desirous to get some place. Being thus accoutred, I went to the Sea-side, and with the help of a Boat was soon aboard the Ship; where I was welcomed by the Captain and the rest of the Company, and by them conducted into the great Cabin, where was no other Company but the two Women; who now being apparelled in their Womans habit A la mode d'Anglois, I was very well pleased, not having for a long time seen any thing so acceptable and pleasant: I had not forgotten our English Fashion of saluting them, neither were they backward in rising and meeting me in order thereto: that done, I placed my self between them; I soon began a discourse to them, which I knew would not at all be displeasing, and that was commending their Beauties, telling them, that if the present Emperour of the Country, the Great Mogul, did but understand what a treasure he had in his Country by their arrival, that he would quickly secure it to himself, and hinder the prosecution of their Voyage any further. To this they reply’d, that they did not believe he would see any thing in them that should merit such an esteem: but added one of them, If he should do so, and be never so desirous of my Company, yet I am better satisfied (in the Society that I am at present in possession of) then if I were courted and served by the greatest Prince upon Earth.
To this so generous speech, I repli’d, that those persons who had the honour to be her servants were in that very happy. These Complements being pass’d, drink was brought, and after that Victuals, which we had in great plenty, there being no want of any thing that could be had at the best mans table in England; and all the dishes of Meat were dress’d in the English fashion, by a Cook of that Country. After Dinner we fell again to discourse, the Women being very desirous of Novelties, and to be acquainted with the Customs of the Country, especially of those used by Women: but when I told them of that Custom of the better sort of Country-women, how they usually accompanied their Husbands in death, by burning their living with their Husbands dead bodies, they were not very well pleased therewith, accounting it great folly: for, said they, it cannot possibly do their Husbands any good, and why they should so destroy themselves out of a complement, was foolish. To pass through, and accompany a Husband or Friend whilst living in all dangers, is what is befitting; but there being no remedy for death, nor no present enjoyment after death, thus to cast away themselves, is ridiculous. We allowed of their Opinions, as grounded upon reason: I asked them how they liked our Men, the Inhabitants; Not at all, said one of them, as a Husband or Bed-fellow, but if there were no other man to be had, we must be contented with them, rather than none, as well as you are with the Native-women. Various were our Discourses in which we entertained one another with much pleasure, having a lusty bowl of Punch still standing by us, which as we drank off, we renewed, and at some of our frolicks, one of the great Guns was discharged. I had ey’d both these women very curiously, and did imagine, that, I had formerly seen them, and had some acquaintance with them. I knew one of them more particularly by the tone of her voice, but it having been so long since I had seen either, I could not call them to mind; I did not at all think it convenient to ask them any particular questions, referring that to a greater privacy. I being now acquainted with most of their transactions, they asked my advice in disposing their moneys, and selling their Commodities, and what to buy to turn to the best advantage? To all these Questions I gave them the best answers I could, to their satisfaction; and now night coming on, I desired to leave them, and invited them all to my house the next day, they not only concluded on that, but agreed that the Women should constantly take my house for their quarters, it being more convenient then on board of the Ship, they coming in their mens apparel, and I providing for them with all privacy; to this I agreed, and after a fresh cup of Wine, and my ordinary salutes to the women, I left them, and went home to my wife, who at my desire provided all things necessary, not only for the next days entertainment, but for the future conveniency of my lodgers, who were not to be known to her for other than men.
The next day they came, and we were again all merry; but some occasions calling away the men, the women were left alone with me. I was now resolv’d to enquire whether they had never known me: they both replied, Not that they at present knew of; but they both said, that certainly they had seen me in England, but at present they could not remember where: wherefore they prayed me to give them some account of my condition and quality when I lived in England: To this I repli’d, that I had been indeed of all conditions, and a very rambler, and it was a great chance, but if they had been in any publique house of Entertainment, that I might have seen them there: to this they both answered, that they had for some time been publique enough in entertaining Gentleman in their Company with much freedom: But, said one of them, who was the Scriveners Mistress, I have certainly seen and known you before I undertook any such courses, for if I be not mistaken, you are the man did first deceive me, and therefore, I pray, tell me, if in your travels in England, you did not light into a Farmers house, and did some kindnesses or discourtesies to his Daughter, and then left her. I hearing her say this, after some small pause, recollected my self, and seriously viewing her, concluded her to be the very Farmers Daughter whose Maidenhead I had bereaved her of, and in requital left her, and gave her no other satisfaction then a paper of Verses. I now being resolv’d in my opinion, ran to her, and embracing her, begg’d pardon for that affront, telling her, that it was onely one of those many youthful tricks whereof I had been guilty. She at first out of sence of the affront that I had done her, could not forbear weeping; but I gave her so many good words, that in fine she was well enough satisfied, and lovingly permitted me to embrace and kiss her.
The other woman hearing that my acquaintance with her Companion began with the loss of her Virginity, mused and blushed, and very strictly beholding me, said, And truly, if I be not mistaken, I purchased my acquaintance with you with the same loss: but I was deceived by you in a more subtil manner than this my Companion; for she knowing you to be a man, permitted you to her bed (as she hath formerly related to me.) But if you are the person that I mean (as I now think you are) you became my bedfellow by a mistake; for not onely I, but many others of the Family believed you to be a Woman. I hearing her say this, fixed my eyes upon her, but could not yet perfectly remember her: but to the discourse she made, I gave this answer; Truly Madam, I have been often guilty of Female frauds; and during the whole course of my life, I endeavoured chiefly to have the company of a Female; and I hope if you were one of those with whom I lay at a Boarding-school, where I went for a Servant-Maid, that you will forgive me that fact; for if it were not there, I then cannot tell where I should have so much happiness as to enjoy you. There it was, replyed she, where I lost my Virginity and honour, and which I have so often repented of; for I was then well-beloved of an indulgent Father, who for that fact cast me off; and ever since I have been forced to wander like a Vagabond, and by infamous courses to gain a livelyhood, and with this she wept.
I was much amaz’d at these two adventures, and indeed pittyed them both; but more especially the last, whom I had so long since deceaved; and seeing her tears, I kneel’d down to her, begging her pardon, and telling her that what was pass’d, was not to be prevented or help’d; but if she pleas’d, I would for the future be her humble servant in assisting her in what I might. To this she told me, that she knew there was no remedy for what was passed; but that the remembrance of that first misfortune could not but sensibly afflict her, but she should throw off that sorrow, and make the best of a bad matter; and thank providence, that since it was no better that it was no worse: and as she had hitherto been well enough contented with her condition, so she intended to frame her spirit and minde to be so for the future; and that now she had the satisfaction she had often desired in seeing that person, who first tasted and crop’d her Virgin-Flower. Her Companion did likewise say, that it was the greatest satisfaction she had ever received since the loss of my company, that she had again found me; for (notwithstanding my base and abrupt leaving her) she had still preserved a more cordial love for me, then for any person she had ever since then enjoy’d: The other said the same, and though I was partly unknown to her, when I lay with her, as being disguised in womans apparel; yet she still had me in her memory, and often wished for the sight of me: And from this discourse we all concluded, that though a woman had many Husbands or Servants, yet she seldom loved any man with so much affection, as him with whom she first tryed and tasted the effects of love, and who had her Virginity.
Well Ladies, said I, I am so much bound to you for preserving an affection for me, who have so unworthily deserved it, That I shall dedicate the remaining part of my life, wholly to obey and serve you. As for that profession of your love now, said the Drugsters Mistress, (who was the youngest, and her, who I had enjoy’d at the Boarding-school) it matters not much, for we have had experience enough in the World to shift for our selves; and neither are we unprovided of those who you know are our servants, and who will take care for us, and save you that trouble. No trouble at all, replyed I, but an honour which I pray you to bestow on me to serve you in any degree.
They were very much surpriz’d, and so was I at this adventure: And I thought it was best to talk no more of it at present: wherefore I call’d for some Wine, and such banqueting cheer as I had, and desired them to participate of it, which they did; and so I at present diverted them from that profound melancholy, wherein they were brought upon this occasion. At length they again reassumed their jovial temper; and beginning to be a little frollick, I assisted them in that humour: but I was very earnest to know their adventures, being, as I supposed somewhat concerned therein, they being both with Child by me when I left them; I therefore beg’d the satisfaction to know what did become of the Fruit of our enjoyments, those Children which I suppose they had by me; for I told them I was not unsensible of the condition I left them in, when I parted from them. Truly, reply’d the Drugsters Mistress, who was named Mary, I know not at all what became of mine since it was born. And, said the other, who was the Scriveners Mistress, and was named Dorothy, and had been the Farmers Daughter, I know but little of mine since it was a year old. I was desirous to hear of both of them their several fortunes, or rather misfortunes since I first knew them; and they agreeing to give me that satisfaction, it was concluded that Mrs. Mary, with whom I had first to do, should first relate her story: and therefore she began as followeth.
CHAP. XXXIV.
Mrs. Mary relates how that she, being got with Child at the Boarding-school, is renounced by her Parents, but provided for her by her Aunt, where she lay in of a Daughter: after which she is courted in way of marriage by a Gentleman, who hearing of her mischance, instead of marriage onely abuses her; and being ingaged in a quarrel about her, leaves her to shift for her self, &c.
In the discourse that I shall make to you concerning those accidents or misfortunes that have befallen me, I shall neither be reserved nor tedious, but plain and short; for I have no reason to disguise any of my actions to two such persons, who are so generally well acquainted with the general affairs of the World, and who have such a particular knowledge of me: Though, said she to me, I must needs confess I received very much pleasure in the first imbraces I had with you; when, though I supposed my self in bed with one of my own Sex, yet I found the contrary, and then tasted the pleasures of a Male bedfellow: though, said I, the sweets of that converse were delightful at present; yet I have through that onely occasion suffered many crosses, and been accompanied with much affliction and trouble, which soon overtook me.
I was very young, not being above sixteen years of age when I first lay with you; and so innocent I was at that age, that I did not imagine that I should have found so sudden an alteration in my body, as was thereby occasioned; neither did I conceive what would be the effects thereof, till some of my other companions, who had lain with you before me, were discovered to be sick, and the occasion of their distemper being enquired into, it was found they were with Child, and then I did guess my self to be in the same condition.
I suppose you are not ignorant of what you had done, and therefore took your flight; but though you contrived your escape cunningly enough by putting on mens apparel, yet it was observed, and you were followed so narrowly, that we supposed you had been taken, but it proved otherwise. Yes, replied I, when I made my escape, I made for London, and being habited in a suit of Clothes of my Mistresses sons, I was fearful of being discovered and known by them, and therefore meeting with a young man of my acquaintance: I remember, I perswaded him to exchange Clothes with me, and so I escaped; but I would gladly know how he came off. Truely, replied Mrs. Mary, that story was somewhat strange, for the Constable who seized him, had orders not to make much noise in the matter, but only to secure him at present in his own house, which he having done, came to our Boarding-School, and acquainted our Mistress that he had secured the party; this being known, my Mistress sent her son whose Clothes were stollen to the place; where in stead of finding our maid Jane (for by that name, I remember you went, when you lived with us) he saw a strange young man in his Clothes, though he was told before you had his Clothes on, which he yet saw before him, yet he knew you well enough, not to be so mistaken: for the party that was in that habit was nothing like you; he therefore thought that all that had been reported to him was false, till he had made a further enquiry of the young man your friend, who was first asked, where he had those Clothes: he not knowing any reason he should deny any thing of the truth, freely and fully acknowledged that he had them in exchange of his own, of a young man his friend; and being asked many other questions, As whether he knew you? and knew you to be a man? and where this exchange was made? He fully resolved his Examiners of all questions, and proved the exchange of Clothes by the people of the house where the exchange was made.
My Mistresses son being returned with this answer to his Mother, it caused great wonder in all who were not privy to your disguize, but there being about seven or eight of us, who were knowing of that secret, and were known to lie with you, we were all privately examined, and some of us having been sick for some time before, and now strictly examined of the cause, and whether we knew any thing of your disguize, and whether you were man or woman; we could not hide or deny our knowledge thereof. Upon this discovery, our Mistress (though she was termed a very discreet person) was so outragious, that we thought she would have lost the ordinary use of her Sences; and several revenges she propounded to take of you, not thinking you were escaped her power: but when she understood that you were gone, she caused all privy search and enquiry to be made after you, but to no purpose. The young man, your friend, who had been secured, was discharged, as being found wholly innocent of the crime; and neither was he deprived of his Clothes, but had them freely given to him, and a good sum of money promised him if he could find and secure you: but though much endeavour was used to find you, yet I could never hear any thing of you, till this late encounter.
But to proceed in my story, our Mistress upon second thoughts resolved to keep this business private for some longer time, to see how many of those seven or eight with whom you had lain, would prove with child; and it was not long before she found that five of the number were pregnant, whereof I was one. How she ordered the matter with the rest, I know not; but for my own part, my father being made acquainted with my misfortune, wholly refused to take any care or notice of me; neither have I ever since seen his face; for though I suppose he loved me well enough; yet I had a Mother-in-law, who might perswade him to slight me, and made use of this occasion to throw me off: but though I was thus cast off by my father, yet I had an Aunt, who was sister to my own mother, who came and visited me; and finding that what was pass’d could not be help’d, took me home with her to her house, where after the usual time of Womens breeding and bearing children, I was delivered of a Daughter, which was soon after its birth sent further into the Country to be nursed: and I suppose it was carried thus privately, in hopes to soulder up the crack that might be in my reputation, which though it did for the present, yet it soon after brake out again.
For a young Gentleman who lived in the next Town to that where my Aunt dwelt, having seen me, fell deeply in love with me, and often waited on me at my Aunts, and took many opportunites of meeting me abroad. Though I liked and loved him well enough, and could have been pleased to have entertained his love with liking at the first offer of it, yet I was commanded by my Aunt to stand off, and be coy in my entertaining of him, lest, as she said, he might by my freeness suspect me of lightness: for the matter had been so privately carried in my lying in, that it was not known to him, nor any, but some few in the House; and to all others I passed as a Virgin. I taking this advice of my Aunt, gave him but indifferent entertainment; so that he who was passionately in love with me, devised all ways he could to woe, please and win me; and to that end he not only presented me with many Gifts, as marks of his affection, but also (according to custom) and that so largely, that she promised him all her assistance, and gave him notice of all opportunities whereby he might wait on me, and please me. All things were now brought to a very good pass, and my Aunt had so prudently managed this affair, that my Father was content to part from a considerable sum of money for my advancement; which was to the full satisfaction of the Gentleman who courted me.
There wanted nothing now to conclude this affair but the accomplishment of a few days, in which all Writings were to be sealed, and the Wedding to be consummated; when all was undone, and in that I undone, by the treachery and perfidiousness of this my servant-maid. For she having received Gifts of the young Gentleman, and I having angred her in a trivial matter, she to be revenged on me, did acquaint my Suitor with my condition, and that I should not die of my first child, for he should be a father the first day of Marriage. Although at her first declaring this matter to him, he could not give credit thereto, yet she affirmed the same with so many, and so earnest asseverations, that he was confirmed in that belief, and therefore enjoyning her to secresie and assistance, and to that end presenting her with somewhat that was considerable, he left her; and now being resolved to deceive me as I intended him; he ordered his affairs accordingly, and to that end he caused some delay to be used in the Writings.
We being now, as I thought, as good as man and Wife, I entertained him with much freedom, and he courted me with less observance, coming now closer to me in his salutes and embraces: I was so pleased with him in all his actions, that I became wholly at his Devotion, and therefore without the consent and knowledge of my Aunt, we went together out of the Town to a merry-making of several of his Acquaintance, where we stay’d somewhat late, and he having caused me to drink to a good height, made a halt by the way, and we went into an Inn of his Acquaintance, he pretending somewhat was amiss in one of his Horses shoes: here we having privacy, he attempted to be more free with me then ever, and prevailed so far with me, that he had the examining of my Plackett, with more freedom then modesty would allow of; but though he would have proceeded further, yet I refused it; he seeing this desisted, and we again remounted our Horses, and he conducted me safely to my Aunts: but although it was very late, yet she sat up, and expected me; and expressed her self very angry with him for keeping me out so unseasonably; he did not well rellish her words, but reply’d somewhat tartly to her again; which encreased her anger, and raised it to some passion, and so in anger they at that time parted, he riding home to his own house. I was likewise sufficiently school’d by my Aunt; but I excused all with soft answers, and pleading obedience, which I thought I was bound to pay him, being our Marriage was so soon to be celebrated.
My Lover was resolved to make use of that days experience of my easiness, and my Aunts anger, which he was well enough pleased should continue, and therefore forbore coming to visit me; but he sent a messenger to my Maid (who had betray’d me) to give him a meeting: she obeyed his summons, and there, and then was my ruine contrived; for it was agreed between them two, that she should perswade me to be ruled by him in every thing, without acquainting my Aunt any more with my proceedings; and a Letter was written, wherein he expressed a continuance of his love, and desires of mine; and for a proof thereof, he desired me to provide my self to meet him at a place appointed; which I did, and there we concluded to go for London together, where he promised to marry me without any more delays. I believing him in every thing (being perswaded thereto by my treacherous servant) took onely some few necessaries with me, and so went to him. And thus leaving all, went with him to London, where when we were arrived, he went to some lodgings which he had provided, as he said, for himself and wife. I was at first contented with the discourse and name of wife; but when bed-time came, I was not fully satisfied to go to bed with him; which though I at first opposed, yet in the end, after many protestations of his next days performance of marriage, I consented to, and thereby agreed to my undoing; for the next day, instead of marriage, he went out in the morning, leaving me onely with the Landlady of the house, and returned not in two days; and then he pretended he had been in great vexation, for that the morning he left me, he being going to speak with a Priest to marry us, he was met with by a person, to whom he was a little indebted, who basely trappan’d and arrested him, and he was forced to be in the custody of Bayliffs ever since, till he had perswaded a friend to lend him some monies, which together with what he had of his own, he said he had paid to his debtor, and so was discharged. And now, said he to me, I have sent home for some more monies, which I know will be brought me in two days time, and then I shall put an end to this business of our marriage.
Although I seemed discontented with what he told me, and did begin to believe that he would abuse me; yet I knew it was to no purpose to be very angry, and onely caused him to give me fresh protestations of the honesty of his intentions, and that as soon as ever his money was come, he would fulfil all my desires.
Thus was I forced to be contented with what he said, and to comply with him in all his desires: for we lay together; but I kept within doors very privately, refusing to be seen by any body, till such time as our Wedding should be over.
But though two or three days and a week was now past since he pretended he had sent into the Country for money, yet there came no returns; at which I was very much discontented, he also seeming dissatisfyed. I then told him, that I had brought a small sum of money with me, which I supposed would be sufficient to pay the charges of that occasion. He asked me how much I had, I told him about 10l. I remember he was somewhat blanck, and at a nonpluss at this proposition: but he soon recovering himself, told me that he expected 100l. to be brought him, and that would be little enough to defray all the charge he intended to be at; for he proposed to lay it all out in Clothes for me and himself, that we might appear the more splendidly, not only to some friends in London, whom he proposed to visit soon after marriage, but also in the Country whither he intended in short time to return to demand my portion, and settle all things according to the agreement of our friends: and as for the small sum of 10l. he told me I would have occasion to lay it out in trivial things on that occasion.
Thus was I put off at this time; and indeed so often afterwards, that I in plain terms told him that I supposed he intended to abuse me, he being resolved to stand the brunt of all my exclamations at this time, did not endeavour, as formerly to pacifie me, but rather provoked me to say more, and be more angry with him, which I was, and reproached him with the abuse he had done me. He having heard the utmost of what I could say, in short told me, that he was the abused party; for should he marry me, as he intended, he should have a greater charge to maintain then I had told him of, for he had understood that I was Mother of a Childe; and so the abuse that I would put on him was double: I was so surprised with what he said, that I was more dead then alive, and could not for a long time speak to him? and when I attempted it, I knew not what to say for my self, for he directly told me, that he was acquainted with every particular of that my misfortune: and thus having said, he left me.
Many and sad were the thoughts I entertained in my minde, and I perceived my self to be miserable: for to return to my Aunt, I knew it would be to no purpose, I having thus abused her in my last leaving her. Therefore I concluded it was my best course at present to comply with the desires of my first Lover, not knowing whom to flee to for refuge; wherefore at his return home, I began to him in tears to lament my sad condition, begging his pardon for what was past, cleerly confessing the truth of all my former misfortune, and that I would for the future be very obedient and constant to him in all things: he gave me the hearing of what I said, and told me all should be well; but I could never finde him after that inclinable to marry me, onely putting me off with one pretence or other; and having a full enjoyment of me already, cared for no more: and now to content and please him, I must not only entertain several of his friends at home at our lodging, but also wait on him abroad; and instead of Wife, I passed for his Cozen.
Amongst other persons that came to visit him, there was a Gentleman of good quality, who being of his intimate Acquaintance, was frequent at our Lodgings: he taking his opportunity to find me alone, made a tender of his love and service to me, and offered me his assistance in every thing I should command him. I finding that he understood somewhat of my condition already, and believing it would be to no purpose to conceal any thing from him, did make him an exact and true narrative of my misfortunes: he was much troubled at the recital of things so strange, but did comfort me the best he could, promising me his best assistance in putting his friend on to perform his promisie of Marriage: for, said he, I know little reason he hath to deny or refuse it. For your first misfortune at the Boarding-School, was so subtil a business, that you cannot well be blamed for it.
This Gentleman accordingly did endeavour to possess my hoped for Husband with that opinion, and to perswade him to marry me, but all in vain; for he had now all the sweets he could expect from me, having lain with me now for above a moneth together, and in that time I endeavoured with all the artifice I could, to give him all possible content: but he was now cloy’d; and therefore told his friend, that for his Mistress he intended to keep me, but never to have me for a Wife. I was neer distracted when this answer was told me; but the Gentleman did again comfort me, promising that he hoped in short time to put all things to rights again. I seeing it was to no purpose to be angry, resolved to bear all things with patience, and seem to be frolick, which was to a good height; and this Gentleman seeing me in so merry a humor, was desirous to put in for a share in the pleasure of my enjoyments, and to that end now courted me indeed: he had been so civil to me in these late transactions, that I could not handsomely refuse him any thing; but however, I for some time held out against all his loving importunities; but he having an absolute freedome in our lodging, so waited his opportunity, that he won me to his embraces, and had a full possession of me. Thus was I enjoyed by two men; but my last lover was very cautious in keeping this his enjoyment from the knowledge of his friend, and we took opportunities in his absence to renew our pleasures. But at length we grew so bold in these practices, that my first Lover discovered us, and watching his opportunity by hiding himself in the Chamber, he took us in the manner. He discovering himself, used many outragious speeches to me and my Companion, as, that he abused him, in perswading and urging him to marry with one who was his prostitute: the other flew out into high expressions; and being valorous enough, they drew their weapons, and before I could get any to interpose and hinder their fight, my new Lover was wounded, and that, so desperately, that he fell; the other seeing that, and supposing him killed, fled, and so left me: and my wounded friend being visited by Chirurgeons, recovered a little, but desired to be removed to his own Lodgings, lest he might be prejudiced by the various reports that would run upon this occasion; I was likewise willing to have it so, as thinking it most convenient.
Thus was I left alone, and I, who lately had two Lovers and Servants, was now left without any; for my old Friend came no more after me, and my new Servant who was wounded, was forced for his health-sake to be carried into the Country.
Now did I find my self truly distressed, for I wholly retired my self, not seeing any man, and was only accompanied by my Landlady, and another antient woman who frequented her house. In vain did I expect the return of either of my Lovers, and almost all my Moneys was gone, in Diet, and for payment of Lodging. My Landlady proposed several ways and courses for me to take, as to send to my first friend who brought me thither, which I did, but could not hear of him; she would have had me send to my Aunt, but I wholly refused so to do, being resolved to bear with any necessities, rather then again to apply my self to her.
The other old woman, who, I told you, frequented our house, did then put in some words to the Discourse, and my Landlady leaving us together, she told me, that if I would be ruled by her, she would so order matters, that I should want for nothing, and live the most pleasantest life in the World. I who was now miserable enough, was well enough pleased to hear of pleasure, and bid her say on: She thereupon told me, that it was great pity that so delicate a beauty as mine should be closeted up, and that I should spend that time in tears and lamentations, which might not only be a pleasure to my self, but many others who would love me with a great deal of passion; and whereas hitherto I had only been reserved to serve the pleasures of one man, or two at the most, and for that I had only reap’d sorrow and trouble, that I might command many, who would, not only please and serve me, but I should command their purses by having money enough at my own dispose. Many words to this purpose she uttered, and many Arguments she used. Though at the first I did not understand what she aimed at, yet by several Questions, which she answered me, I found she would have me prostitute my body for my pleasure, and to gain a livelyhood; and in fine, should get my living with the hands I sat on.
Though I had tasted man, as first with you, and afterwards had two at a time, my two late Lovers, and by that was induced to desire more of the same pleasures, yet I was extreamly unwilling to prostitute my body to every fellow that should bring money in his hand; and this I supposed I must do, if once I undertook that course. Thus I reasoned with this old woman, but she told me, No, I should not do so, for I should only have my choice of what, and whom I liked, and few of such would be profitable enough to maintain me in a splendid Garb; and to this she gave me so many reasons; that I consenting to leave my Lodgings, went with her to the place where she conducted me.