8833 lines
460 KiB
Plaintext
8833 lines
460 KiB
Plaintext
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This text was digitized (typed by hand) by
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Ted & Florence Daniel
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New Wave Publishers
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2103 N. Liberty Street
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Portland OR 97217-4971
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This text is in the public domain.
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FANNY HILL
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MEMOIRS OF A WOMAN OF PLEASURE
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c 1749
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by John Cleland
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Letter The First
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Madam,
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I sit down to give you an undeniable proof of my con-
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sidering your desires as indispensable orders. Ungracious
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then as the task may be, I shall recall to view those scan-
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dalous stages of my life, out of which I emerg'd, at length,
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to the enjoyment of every blessing in the power of love,
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health, and fortune to bestow; whilst yet in the flower of
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youth, and not too late to employ the leisure afforded me by
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great ease and affluence, to cultivate an understanding,
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naturally not a despicable one, and which had, even amidst
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the whirl of loose pleasures I had been tost in, exerted
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more observation on the characters and manners of the world
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than what is common to those of my unhappy profession, who
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looking on all thought or reflection as their capital enemy,
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keep it at as great a distance as they can, or destroy it
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without mercy.
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Hating, as I mortally do, all long unnecessary preface,
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I shall give you good quarter in this, and use no farther
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apology, than to prepare you for seeing the loose part of my
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life, wrote with the same liberty that I led it.
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Truth! stark, naked truth, is the word; and I will not
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so much as take the pains to bestow the strip of a gauze
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wrapper on it, but paint situations such as they actually
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rose to me in nature, careless of violating those laws of
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decency that were never made for such unreserved intimacies
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as ours; and you have too much sense, too much knowledge of
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the ORIGINALS themselves, to sniff prudishly and out of
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character at the PICTURES of them. The greatest men, those
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of the first and most leading taste, will not scruple adorning
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their private closets with nudities, though, in compliance
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with vulgar prejudices, they may not think them decent deco-
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rations of the staircase, or salon.
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This, and enough, premised, I go souse into my personal
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history. My maiden name was Frances Hill. I was born at a
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small village near Liverpool, in Lancashire, of parents ex-
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tremely poor, and, I piously believe, extremely honest.
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My father, who had received a maim on his limbs that
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disabled him from following the more laborious branches of
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country-drudgery, got, by making of nets, a scanty subsis-
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tence, which was not much enlarg'd by my mother's keeping
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a little day-school for the girls in her neighbourhood.
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They had had several children; but none lived to any age
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except myself, who had received from nature a constitution
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perfectly healthy.
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My education, till past fourteen, was no better than
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very vulgar; reading, or rather spelling, an illegible
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scrawl, and a little ordinary plain work composed the whole
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system of it; and then all my foundation in virtue was no
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other than a total ignorance of vice, and the shy timidity
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general to our sex, in the tender stage of life when objects
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alarm or frighten more by their novelty than anything else.
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But then, this is a fear too often cured at the expence of
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innocence, when Miss, by degrees, begins no longer to look
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on a man as a creature of prey that will eat her.
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My poor mother had divided her time so entirely be-
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tween her scholars and her little domestic cares, that she
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had spared very little of it to my instruction, having,
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from her own innocence from all ill, no hint or thought of
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guarding me against any.
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I was now entering on my fifteenth year, when the
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worst of ills befell me in the loss of my tender fond par-
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ents, who were both carried off by the small-pox, within a
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few days of each other; my father dying first, and thereby
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hastening the death of my mother; so that I was now left an
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unhappy friendless orphan (for my father's coming to settle
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there was accidental, he being originally a Kentishman).
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That cruel distemper which had proved so fatal to them, had
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indeed seized me, but with such mild and favourable symptoms,
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that I was presently out of danger, and, what I then did not
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know the value of, was entirely unmark'd. I skip over here
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an account of the natural grief and affliction which I felt
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on this melancholy occasion. A little time, and the giddi-
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ness of that age dissipated, too soon, my reflections on
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that irreparable loss; but nothing contributed more to recon-
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cile me to it, than the notions that were immediately put
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into my head, of going to London, and looking out for a
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service, in which I was promised all assistance and advice
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from one Esther Davis, a young woman that had been down to
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see her friends, and who, after the stay of a few days, was
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to return to her place.
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As I had now nobody left alive in the village who had
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concern enough about what should become of me to start any
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objections to this scheme, and the woman who took care of
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me after my parents; death rather encouraged me to pursue
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it, I soon came to a resolution of making this launch into
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the wide world, by repairing to London, in order to SEEK
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MY FORTUNE, a phrase which, by the bye, has ruined more
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adventurers of both sexes, from the country, than ever it
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made or advanced.
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Nor did Esther Davis a little comfort and inspirit me
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to venture with her, by piquing my childish curiosity with
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the fine sights that were to be seen in London: the Tombs,
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the Lions, the King, the Royal Family, the fine Plays and
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Operas, and, in short, all the diversions which fell within
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her sphere of life to come at; the detail of all which per-
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fectly turn'd the little head of me.
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Nor can I remember, without laughing, the innocent ad-
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miration, not without a spice of envy, with which we poor
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girls, whose church-going clothes did not rise above dowlass
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shifts and stuff gowns, beheld Esther's scowered satin gowns,
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caps border'd with an inch of lace, taudry ribbons, and shoes
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belaced with silver: all which we imagined grew in London,
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and entered for a great deal into my determination of trying
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to come in for my share of them.
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The idea however of having the company of a townswoman
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with her, was the trivial, and all the motives that engaged
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Esther to take charge of me during my journey to town, where
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she told me, after her manner and style, "as how several
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maids out of the country had made themselves and all their
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kin for ever: that by preserving their VIRTUE, some had taken
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so with their masters, that they had married them, and kept
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them coaches, and lived vastly grand and happy; and some,
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may-hap, came to be Duchesses; luck was all, and why not I,
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as well as another?"; with other almanacs to this purpose,
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which set me a tip-toe to begin this promising journey, and
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to leave a place which, though my native one, contained no
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relations that I had reason to regret, and was grown insup-
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portable to me, from the change of the tenderest usage into
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a cold air of charity, with which I was entertain'd even at
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the only friend's house that I had the least expectation of
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care and protection from. She was, however, so just to me,
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as to manage the turning into money of the little matters
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that remained to me after the debts and burial charges were
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accounted for, and, at my departure, put my whole fortune
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into my hands; which consisted of a very slender wardrobe,
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pack'd up in a very portable box, and eight guineas, with
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seventeen shillings in silver; stowed up in a spring-pouch,
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which was a greater treasure than ever I had yet seen to-
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gether, and which I could not conceive there was a possi-
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bility of running out; and indeed, I was so entirely taken
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up with the joy of seeing myself mistress of such an im-
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mense sum, that I gave very little attention to a world of
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good advice which was given me with it.
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Places, then, being taken for Esther and me in the
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London waggon, I pass over a very immaterial scene of
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leavetaking, at which I dropt a few tears betwixt grief and
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joy; and, for the same reasons of insignificance, skip over
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all that happened to me on the road, such as the waggoner's
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looking liquorish on me, the schemes laid for me by some of
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the passengers, which were defeated by the vigilance of my
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guardian Esther; who, to do her justice, took a motherly
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care of me, at the same time that she taxed me for her pro-
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tection by making me bear all travelling charges, which I
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defrayed with the utmost cheerfulness, and thought myself
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much obliged to her into the bargain.
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She took indeed great care that we were not over-rated,
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or imposed on, as well as of managing as frugally as possible;
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expensiveness was not her vice.
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It was pretty late in a summer evening when we reached
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London-town, in our slow conveyance, though drawn by six at
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length. As we passed through the greatest streets that led
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to our inn, the noise of the coaches, the hurry, the crowds
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of foot passengers, in short, the new scenery of the shops
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and houses, at once pleased and amazed me.
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But guess at my mortification and surprize when we
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came to the inn, and our things were landed and deliver'd
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to us, when my fellow traveller and protectress, Esther
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Davis, who had used me with the utmost tenderness during
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the journey, and prepared me by no preceding signs for the
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stunning blow I was to receive, when I say, my only depend-
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ence and friend, in this strange place, all of a sudden
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assumed a strange and cool air towards me, as if she dreaded
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my becoming a burden to her.
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Instead, then, of proffering me the continuance of her
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assistance and good offices, which I relied upon, and never
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more wanted, she thought herself, it seems, abundantly ac-
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quitted of her engagements to me, by having brought me safe
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to my journey's end; and seeing nothing in her procedure
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towards me but what was natural and in order, began to em-
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brace me by way of taking leave, whilst I was so confounded,
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so struck, that I had not spirit or sense enough so much as
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to mention my hopes or expectations from her experience, and
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knowledge of the place she had brought me to.
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Whilst I stood thus stupid and mute, which she doubt-
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less attributed to nothing more than a concern at parting,
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this idea procured me perhaps a slight alleviation of it,
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in the following harangue: That now we were got safe to
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London, and that she was obliged to go to her place, she
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advised me by all means to get into one as soon as possible;
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that I need not fear getting one; there were more places
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than parish-churches; that she advised me to go to an
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intelligence office; that if she heard of any thing stirring,
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she would find me out and let me know; that in the meantime,
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I should take a private lodging, and acquaint her where to
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send to me; that she wish'd me good luck, and hoped I should
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always have the grace to keep myself honest, and not bring a
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disgrace on my parentage. With this, she took her leave of
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me, and left me, as it were, on my own hands, full as
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lightly as I had been put into hers.
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Left thus alone, absolutely destitute and friendless,
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I began then to feel most bitterly the severity of this
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separation, the scene of which had passed in a little room
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in the inn; and no sooner was her back turned, but the af-
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fliction I felt at my helpless strange circumstances burst
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out into a flood of tears, which infinitely relieved the
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oppression of my heart; though I still remained stupefied,
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and most perfectly perplex'd how to dispose of myself.
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One of the waiters coming in, added yet more to my
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uncertainty by asking me, in a short way, if I called for
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anything? to which I replied innocently: "No." But I
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wished him to tell me where I might get a lodging for that
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night. He said he would go and speak to his mistress, who
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accordingly came, and told me drily, without entering in
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the least into the distress she saw me in, that I might have
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a bed for a shilling, and that, as she supposed I had some
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friends in town (here I fetched a deep sigh in vain!) I
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might provide for myself in the morning.
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'Tis incredible what trifling consolations the human
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mind will seize in its greatest afflictions. The assurance
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of nothing more than a bed to lie on that night, calmed my
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agonies; and being asham'd to acquaint the mistress of the
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inn that I had no friends to apply to in town, I proposed
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to myself to proceed, the very next morning, to an intelli-
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gence office, to which I was furnish'd with written direc-
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tions on the back of a ballad Esther had given me. There I
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counted on getting information of any place that such a
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country girl as I might be fit for, and where I could get
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into any sort of being, before my little stock should be
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consumed; and as to a character, Esther had often repeated
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to me that I might depend on her managing me one; nor, how-
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ever affected I was at her leaving me thus, did I entirely
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cease to rely on her, as I began to think, good-naturedly,
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that her procedure was all in course, and that it was only
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my ignorance of life that had made me take it in the light
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I at first did.
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Accordingly, the next morning I dress'd myself as clean
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and as neat as my rustic wardrobe would permit me; and
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having left my box, with special recommendation, with the
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landlady, I ventured out by myself, and without any more
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difficulty than can be supposed of a young country girl,
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barely fifteen, and to whom every sign or shop was a gazing
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trap, I got to the wish'd-for intelligence office.
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It was kept by an elderly woman, who sat at the
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receipt of custom, with a book before her in great form and
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order, and several scrolls, ready made out, of directions
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for places.
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I made up then to this important personage, without
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lifting up my eyes or observing any of the people round me,
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who were attending there on the same errand as myself, and
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dropping her curtsies nine-deep, just made a shift to
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stammer out my business to her.
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Madam having heard me out, with all the gravity and
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brow of a petty minister of State, and seeing at one glance
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over my figure what I was, made me no answer, but to ask
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me the preliminary shilling, on receipt of which she told
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me places for women were exceedingly scarce, especially as
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I seemed too slight built for hard work; but that she
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would look over her book, and see what was to be done for
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me, desiring me to stay a little till she had dispatched
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some other customers.
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On this I drew back a little, most heartily mortified
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at a declaration which carried with it a killing uncertainty
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that my circumstances could not well endure.
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Presently, assuming more courage, and seeking some di-
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version from my uneasy thoughts, I ventured to lift up my
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head a little, and sent my eyes on a course round the room,
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wherein they met full tilt with those of a lady (for such
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my extreme innocence pronounc'd her) sitting in a corner of
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the room, dress'd in a velvet mantle (nota bene, in the
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midst of summer), with her bonnet off; squab-fat, red-faced,
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and at least fifty.
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She look'd as if she would devour me with her eyes,
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staring at me from head to foot, without the least regard
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to the confusion and blushes her eyeing me so fixedly put
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me to, and which were to her, no doubt, the strongest re-
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commendation and marks of my being fit for her purpose.
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After a little time, in which my air, person and whole
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figure had undergone a strict examination, which I had, on
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my part, tried to render favourable to me, by primming,
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drawing up my neck, and setting my best looks, she advanced
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and spoke to me with the greatest demureness:
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"Sweet-heart, do you want a place?"
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"Yes, and please you" (with a curtsy down to the
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ground).
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Upon this she acquainted me that she was actually
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come to the office herself to look out for a servant; that
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she believed I might do, with a little of her instructions;
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that she could take my very looks for a sufficient character;
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that London was a very wicked, vile place; that she hoped I
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would be tractable, and keep out of bad company; in short,
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she said all to me that an old experienced practitioner in
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town could think of, and which was much more than was neces-
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sary to take in an artless inexperienced country-maid, who
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was even afraid of becoming a wanderer about the streets,
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and therefore gladly jump'd at the first offer of a shelter,
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especially from so grave and matron-like a lady, for such my
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flattering fancy assured me this new mistress of mine was;
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I being actually hired under the nose of the good woman that
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kept the office, whose shrewd smiles and shrugs I could not
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help observing, and innocently interpreted them as marks of
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her being pleased at my getting into place so soon; but, as
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I afterwards came to know, these BELDAMS understood one an-
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other very well, and this was a market where Mrs. Brown, my
|
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mistress, frequently attended, on the watch for any fresh
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goods that might offer there, for the use of her customers,
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and her own profit.
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Madam was, however, so well pleased with her bargain,
|
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that fearing, I presume, lest better advice or some accident
|
||
might occasion my slipping through her fingers, she would
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officiously take me in a coach to my inn, where, calling
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herself for my box, it was, I being present, delivered with-
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out the least scruple or explanation as to where I was going.
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This being over, she bid the coachman drive to a shop
|
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in St. Paul's Churchyard, where she bought a pair of gloves,
|
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which she gave me, and thence renewed her directions to the
|
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coachman to drive to her house in *** street, who accord-
|
||
ingly landed us at her door, after I had been cheer'd up and
|
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entertain'd by the way with the most plausible flams, without
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one syllable from which I could conclude anything but that I
|
||
was, by the greatest good luck, fallen into the hands of the
|
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kindest mistress, not to say friend, that the varsal world
|
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could afford; and accordingly I enter'd her doors with most
|
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compleat confidence and exultation, promising myself that,
|
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as soon as I should be a little settled, I would acquaint
|
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Esther Davis with my rare good fortune.
|
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|
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You may be sure the good opinion of my place was not
|
||
lessen'd by the appearance of a very handsome back parlour,
|
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into which I was led and which seemed to me magnificently
|
||
furnished, who had never seen better rooms than the ordi-
|
||
nary ones in inns upon the road. There were two gilt pier-
|
||
glasses, and a buffet, on which a few pieces of plates, set
|
||
out to the most shew, dazzled, and altogether persuaded me
|
||
that I must be got into a very reputable family.
|
||
|
||
Here my mistress first began her part, with telling me
|
||
that I must have good spirits, and learn to be free with
|
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her; that she had not taken me to be a common servant, to
|
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do domestic drudgery, but to be a kind of companion to her;
|
||
and that if I would be a good girl, she would do more than
|
||
twenty mothers for me; to all which I answered only by the
|
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profoundest and the awkwardest curtsies, and a few mono-
|
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syllables, such as "yes! no! to be sure!"
|
||
|
||
Presently my mistress touch'd the bell, and in came a
|
||
strapping maid-servant, who had let us in. "Here, Martha,"
|
||
said Mrs. Brown--"I have just hir'd this young woman to
|
||
look after my linen; so step up and shew her her chamber;
|
||
and I charge you to use her with as much respect as you
|
||
would myself, for I have taken a prodigious liking to her,
|
||
and I do not know what I shall do for her."
|
||
|
||
Martha, who was an arch-jade, and, being used to this
|
||
decoy, had her cue perfect, made me a kind of half curtsy,
|
||
and asked me to walk up with her; and accordingly shew'd
|
||
me a neat room, two pair of stairs backwards, in which
|
||
there was a handsome bed, where Martha told me I was to
|
||
lie with a young gentlewoman, a cousin of my mistress's,
|
||
who she was sure would be vastly good to me. Then she ran
|
||
out into such affected encomiums on her good mistress! her
|
||
sweet mistress! and how happy I was to light upon her!
|
||
that I could not have bespoke a better; with other the
|
||
like gross stuff, such as would itself have started sus-
|
||
picions in any but such an unpractised simpleton, who was
|
||
perfectly new to life, and who took every word she said in
|
||
the very sense she laid out for me to take it; but she
|
||
readily saw what a penetration she had to deal with, and
|
||
measured me very rightly in her manner of whistling to me,
|
||
so as to make me pleased with my cage, and blind to the
|
||
wires.
|
||
|
||
In the midst of these false explanations of the nature
|
||
of my future service, we were rung for down again, and I was
|
||
reintroduced into the same parlour, where there was a table
|
||
laid with three covers; and my mistress had now got with her
|
||
one of her favourite girls, a notable manager of her house,
|
||
and whose business it was to prepare and break such young
|
||
fillies as I was to the mounting-block; and she was accord-
|
||
ingly, in that view, allotted me for a bed-fellow; and, to
|
||
give her the more authority, she had the title of cousin con-
|
||
ferr'd on her by the venerable president of this college.
|
||
|
||
Here I underwent a second survey, which ended in the full
|
||
approbation of Mrs. Phoebe Ayres, the name of my tutoress
|
||
elect, to whose care and instructions I was affectionately
|
||
recommended.
|
||
|
||
Dinner was now set on table, and in pursuance of treating
|
||
me as a companion, Mrs. Brown, with a tone to cut off all
|
||
dispute, soon over-rul'd my most humble and most confused
|
||
protestations against sitting down with her LADYSHIP, which
|
||
my very short breeding just suggested to me could not be
|
||
right, or in the order of things.
|
||
|
||
At table, the conversation was chiefly kept up by the
|
||
two madams, and carried on in double-meaning expressions,
|
||
interrupted every now and then by kind assurance to me, all
|
||
tending to confirm and fix my satisfaction with my present
|
||
condition: augment it they could not, so very a novice was
|
||
I then.
|
||
|
||
It was here agreed that I should keep myself up and
|
||
out of sight for a few days, till such cloaths could be
|
||
procured for me as were fit for the character I was to
|
||
appear in, of my mistress's companion, observing withal,
|
||
that on the first impressions of my figure much might
|
||
depend; and, as they well judged, the prospect of ex-
|
||
changing my country cloaths for London finery, made the
|
||
clause of confinement digest perfectly well with me. But
|
||
the truth was, Mrs. Brown did not care that I should be
|
||
seen or talked to by any, either of her customers, or her
|
||
DOES (as they call'd the girls provided for them), till
|
||
she had secured a good market for my maidenhead, which I
|
||
had at least all the appearances of having brought into her
|
||
LADYSHIP'S service.
|
||
|
||
To slip over minutes of no importance to the main of my
|
||
story, I pass the interval to bed-time, in which I was more
|
||
and more pleas'd with the views that opened to me, of an
|
||
easy service under these good people; and after supper being
|
||
shew'd up to bed, Miss Phoebe, who observed a kind of reluc-
|
||
tance in me to strip and go to bed, in my shift, before her,
|
||
now the maid was withdrawn, came up to me, and beginning with
|
||
unpinning my handkerchief and gown, soon encouraged me to go
|
||
on with undressing myself; and, still blushing at now seeing
|
||
myself naked to my shift, I hurried to get under the bed-
|
||
cloaths out of sight. Phoebe laugh'd and was not long before
|
||
she placed herself by my side. She was about five and twenty,
|
||
by her most suspicious account, in which, according to all
|
||
appearances, she must have sunk at least ten good years;
|
||
allowance, too, being made for the havoc which a long course
|
||
of hackneyship and hot waters must have made of her consti-
|
||
tution, and which had already brought on, upon the spur,
|
||
that stale stage in which those of her profession are re-
|
||
duced to think of SHOWING company, instead of SEEING it.
|
||
|
||
No sooner then was this precious substitute of my
|
||
mistress's laid down, but she, who was never out of her way
|
||
when any occasion of lewdness presented itself, turned to
|
||
me, embraced and kiss'd me with great eagerness. This was
|
||
new, this was odd; but imputing it to nothing but pure kind-
|
||
ness, which, for aught I knew, it might be the London way
|
||
to express in that manner, I was determin'd not to be behind
|
||
hand with her, and returned her the kiss and embrace, with
|
||
all the fervour that perfect innocence knew.
|
||
|
||
Encouraged by this, her hands became extremely free,
|
||
and wander'd over my whole body, with touches, squeezes,
|
||
pressures, that rather warm'd and surpriz'd me with their
|
||
novelty, than they either shock'd or alarm'd me.
|
||
|
||
The flattering praises she intermingled with these in-
|
||
vasions, contributed also not a little to bribe my passive-
|
||
ness; and, knowing no ill, I feared none, especially from
|
||
one who had prevented all doubt of her womanhood by conduct-
|
||
ing my hands to a pair of breasts that hung loosely down,
|
||
in a size and volume that full sufficiently distinguished
|
||
her sex, to me at least, who had never made any other com-
|
||
parison...
|
||
|
||
I lay then all tame and passive as she could wish, whilst
|
||
her freedom raised no other emotions but those of a strange,
|
||
and, till then, unfelt pleasure. Every part of me was open
|
||
and exposed to the licentious courses of her hands, which,
|
||
like a lambent fire, ran over my whole body, and thaw'd all
|
||
coldness as they went.
|
||
|
||
My breasts, if it is not too bold a figure to call so
|
||
two hard, firm, rising hillocks, that just began to shew them-
|
||
selves, or signify anything to the touch, employ'd and amus'd
|
||
her hands a-while, till, slipping down lower, over a smooth
|
||
track, she could just feel the soft silky down that had but a
|
||
few months before put forth and garnish'd the mount-pleasant
|
||
of those parts, and promised to spread a grateful shelter over
|
||
the seat of the most exquisite sensation, and which had been,
|
||
till that instant, the seat of the most insensible innocence.
|
||
Her fingers play'd and strove to twine in the young tendrils
|
||
of that moss, which nature has contrived at once for use and
|
||
ornament.
|
||
|
||
But, not contented with these outer posts, she now
|
||
attempts the main spot, and began to twitch, to insinuate,
|
||
and at length to force an introduction of a finger into the
|
||
quick itself, in such a manner, that had she not proceeded
|
||
by insensible gradations that inflamed me beyond the power of
|
||
modesty to oppose its resistance to their progress, I should
|
||
have jump'd out of bed and cried for help against such strange
|
||
assaults.
|
||
|
||
Instead of which, her lascivious touches had lighted up
|
||
a new fire that wanton'd through all my veins, but fix'd with
|
||
violence in that center appointed them by nature, where the
|
||
first strange hands were now busied in feeling, squeezing,
|
||
compressing the lips, then opening them again, with a finger
|
||
between, till an "Oh!" express'd her hurting me, where the
|
||
narrowness of the unbroken passage refused it entrance to any
|
||
depth.
|
||
|
||
In the meantime, the extension of my limbs, languid
|
||
stretchings, sighs, short heavings, all conspired to assure
|
||
that experienced wanton that I was more pleased than offended
|
||
at her proceedings, which she seasoned with repeated kisses
|
||
and exclamations, such as "Oh! what a charming creature thou
|
||
art! . . . What a happy man will he be that first makes a
|
||
woman of you! . . . Oh! that I were a man for your sake! ...
|
||
with the like broken expressions, interrupted by kisses as
|
||
fierce and fervent as ever I received from the other sex.
|
||
|
||
For my part, I was transported, confused, and out of
|
||
myself; feelings so new were too much for me. My heated
|
||
and alarm'd senses were in a tumult that robbed me of all
|
||
liberty of thought; tears of pleasure gush'd from my eyes,
|
||
and somewhat assuaged the fire that rag'd all over me.
|
||
|
||
Phoebe, herself, the hackney'd, thorough-bred Phoebe,
|
||
to whom all modes and devices of pleasure were known and
|
||
familiar, found, it seems, in this exercise of her art to
|
||
break young girls, the gratification of one of those arbi-
|
||
trary tastes, for which there is no accounting. Not that
|
||
she hated men, or did not even prefer them to her own sex;
|
||
but when she met with such occasions as this was, a satiety
|
||
of enjoyments in the common road, perhaps too, a secret
|
||
bias, inclined her to make the most of pleasure, wherever
|
||
she could find it, without distinction of sexes. In this
|
||
view, now well assured that she had, by her touches, suf-
|
||
ficiently inflamed me for her purpose, she roll'd down
|
||
the bed-cloaths gently, and I saw myself stretched nak'd,
|
||
my shift being turned up to my neck, whilst I had no power
|
||
or sense to oppose it. Even my glowing blushes expressed
|
||
more desire than modesty, whilst the candle, left (to be
|
||
sure not undesignedly) burning, threw a full light on my
|
||
whole body.
|
||
|
||
"No!" says Phoebe, "you must not, my sweet girl, think
|
||
to hide all these treasures from me. My sight must be
|
||
feasted as well as my touch . . . I must devour with my
|
||
eyes this springing BOSOM . . . Suffer me to kiss it . . .
|
||
I have not seen it enough . . . Let me kiss it once more
|
||
. . . What firm, smooth, white flesh is here! . . . How
|
||
delicately shaped! . . . Then this delicious down! Oh!
|
||
let me view the small, dear, tender cleft! . . . This is
|
||
too much, I cannot bear it! . . . I must . . . I must . . ."
|
||
Here she took my hand, and in a transport carried it where
|
||
you will easily guess. But what a difference in the state
|
||
of the same thing! . . . A spreading thicket of bushy curls
|
||
marked the full-grown, complete woman. Then the cavity to
|
||
which she guided my hand easily received it; and as soon as
|
||
she felt it within her, she moved herself to and fro, with
|
||
so rapid a friction that I presently withdrew it, wet and
|
||
clammy, when instantly Phoebe grew more composed, after two
|
||
or three sighs, and heart-fetched Oh's! and giving me a
|
||
kiss that seemed to exhale her soul through her lips, she
|
||
replaced the bed-cloaths over us. What pleasure she had
|
||
found I will not say; but this I know, that the first sparks
|
||
of kindling nature, the first ideas of pollution, were
|
||
caught by me that night; and that the acquaintance and
|
||
communication with the bad of our own sex, is often as fatal
|
||
to innocence as all the seductions of the other. But to go
|
||
on. When Phoebe was restor'd to that calm, which I was far
|
||
from the enjoyment of myself, she artfully sounded me on all
|
||
the points necessary to govern the designs of my virtuous
|
||
mistress on me, and by my answers, drawn from pure undis-
|
||
sembled nature, she had no reason but to promise herself all
|
||
imaginable success, so far as it depended on my ignorance,
|
||
easiness, and warmth of constitution.
|
||
|
||
After a sufficient length of dialogue, my bedfellow left
|
||
me to my rest, and I fell asleep, through pure weariness from
|
||
the violent emotions I had been led into, when nature (which
|
||
had been too warmly stir'd and fermented to subside without
|
||
allaying by some means or other) relieved me by one of those
|
||
luscious dreams, the transports of which are scarce inferior
|
||
to those of waking real action.
|
||
|
||
We breakfasted, and the tea things were scarce removed,
|
||
when in were brought two bundles of linen and wearing apparel:
|
||
in short, all the necessaries for rigging me out, as they
|
||
termed it, completely.
|
||
|
||
In the morning I awoke about ten, perfectly gay and
|
||
refreshed. Phoebe was up before me, and asked me in the
|
||
kindest manner how I did, how I had rested, and if I was
|
||
ready for breakfast, carefully, at the same time, avoiding
|
||
to increase the confusion she saw I was in, at looking her
|
||
in the face, by any hint of the night's bed scene. I told
|
||
her if she pleased I would get up, and begin any work she
|
||
would be pleased to set me about. She smil'd; presently
|
||
the maid brought in the tea-equipage, and I had just hud-
|
||
dled my cloaths on, when in waddled my mistress. I expected
|
||
no less than to be told of, if not chid for, my late rising,
|
||
when I was agreeably disappointed by her compliments on my
|
||
pure and fresh looks. I was "a bud of beauty" (this was her
|
||
style), "and how vastly all the fine men would admire me!"
|
||
to all which my answer did not, I can assure you, wrong my
|
||
breeding; they were as simple and silly as they could wish,
|
||
and, no doubt, flattered them infinitely more than had they
|
||
proved me enlightened by education and a knowledge of the
|
||
world.
|
||
|
||
Imagine to yourself, Madam, how my little coquette
|
||
heart flutter'd with joy at the sight of a white lute-string,
|
||
flower'd with silver, scoured indeed, but passed on me for
|
||
spick-and-span new, a Brussels lace cap, braided shoes, and
|
||
the rest in proportion, all second-hand finery, and procured
|
||
instantly for the occasion, by the diligence and industry of
|
||
the good Mrs. Brown, who had already a chapman for me in the
|
||
house, before whom my charms were to pass in review; for he
|
||
had not only, in course, insisted on a previous sight of the
|
||
premises, but also on immediate surrender to him, in case of
|
||
his agreeing for me; concluding very wisely that such a place
|
||
as I was in was of the hottest to trust the keeping of such
|
||
a perishable commodity in as a maidenhead.
|
||
|
||
The care of dressing, and tricking me out for the
|
||
market, was then left to Phoebe, who acquitted herself, if
|
||
not well, at least perfectly to the satisfaction of every
|
||
thing but my impatience of seeing myself dress'd. When it
|
||
was over, and I view'd myself in the glass, I was, no doubt,
|
||
too natural, too artless, to hide my childish joy at the
|
||
change; a change, in the real truth, for much the worse,
|
||
since I must have much better become the neat easy simplicity
|
||
of my rustic dress than the awkward, untoward, taudry finery
|
||
that I could not conceal my strangeness to.
|
||
|
||
Phoebe's compliments, however, in which her own share
|
||
in dressing me was not forgot, did not a little confirm me
|
||
in the first notions I had ever entertained concerning my
|
||
person; which, be it said without vanity, was then tolerable
|
||
to justify a taste for me, and of which it may not be out of
|
||
place here to sketch you an unflatter'd picture.
|
||
|
||
I was tall, yet not too tall for my age, which, as I
|
||
before remark'd, was barely turned of fifteen; my shape
|
||
perfectly straight, thin waisted, and light and free, without
|
||
owing any thing to stays; my hair was a glossy auburn, and
|
||
as soft as silk, flowing down my neck in natural buckles, and
|
||
did not a little set off the whiteness of a smooth skin; my
|
||
face was rather too ruddy, though its features were delicate,
|
||
and the shape a roundish oval, except where a pit on my chin
|
||
had far from a disagreeable effect; my eyes were as black as
|
||
can be imagin'd, and rather languishing than sparkling, ex-
|
||
cept on certain occasions, when I have been told they struck
|
||
fire fast enough; my teeth, which I ever carefully perserv'd,
|
||
were small, even and white; my bosom was finely rais'd, and
|
||
one might then discern rather the promise, than the actual
|
||
growth, of the round, firm breasts, that in a little time
|
||
made that promise good. In short, all the points of beauty
|
||
that are most universally in request, I had, or at least my
|
||
vanity forbade me to appeal from the decision of our sove-
|
||
reign judges the men, who all, that I ever knew at least,
|
||
gave it thus highly in my favour; and I met with, even in
|
||
my own sex, some that were above denying me that justice,
|
||
whilst others praised me yet more unsuspectedly, by endea-
|
||
vouring to detract from me, in points of person and figure
|
||
that I obviously excelled in. This is, I own, too strong of
|
||
self praise; but should I not be ungrateful to nature, and
|
||
to a form to which I owe such singular blessings of pleasure
|
||
and fortune, were I to suppress, through and affectation of
|
||
modesty, the mention of such valuable gifts?
|
||
|
||
Well then, dress'd I was, and little did it then enter
|
||
into my head that all this gay attire was no more than deck-
|
||
ing the victim out for sacrifice, whilst I innocently attri-
|
||
buted all to mere friendship and kindness in the sweet good
|
||
Mrs. Brown; who, I was forgetting to mention, had, under
|
||
pretence of keeping my money safe, got from me, without the
|
||
least hesitation, the driblet (so I now call it) which re-
|
||
mained to me after the expences of my journey.
|
||
|
||
After some little time most agreeably spent before the
|
||
glass, in scarce self-admiration, since my new dress had by
|
||
much the greatest share in it, I was sent for down to the
|
||
parlour, where the old lady saluted me, and wished me joy
|
||
of my new cloaths, which she was not asham'd to say, fitted
|
||
me as if I had worn nothing but the finest all my life-time;
|
||
but what was it she could not see me silly enough to swallow?
|
||
At the same time, she presented me to another cousin of her
|
||
own creation, an elderly gentleman, who got up, at my entry
|
||
into the room, and on my dropping a curtsy to him, saluted
|
||
me, and seemed a little affronted that I had only presented
|
||
my cheek to him; a mistake, which, if one, he immediately
|
||
corrected, by glewing his lips to mine, with an ardour which
|
||
his figure had not at all disposed me to thank him for; his
|
||
figure, I say, than which nothing could be more shocking or
|
||
detestable: for ugly, and disagreeable, were terms too gentle
|
||
to convey a just idea of it.
|
||
|
||
Imagine to yourself a man rather past threescore, short
|
||
and ill-made, with a yellow cadaverous hue, great goggling
|
||
eyes that stared as if he was strangled; and out-mouth from
|
||
two more properly tusks than teeth, livid-lips, and breath
|
||
like a jake's: then he had a peculiar ghastliness in his grin
|
||
that made him perfectly frightful, if not dangerous to women
|
||
with child; yet, made as he was thus in mock of man, he was
|
||
so blind to his own staring deformities as to think himself
|
||
born for pleasing, and that no woman could see him with im-
|
||
punity: in consequence of which idea, he had lavish'd great
|
||
sums on such wretches as could gain upon themselves to pre-
|
||
tend love to his person, whilst to those who had not art or
|
||
patience to dissemble the horror it inspir'd, he behaved
|
||
even brutally. Impotence, more than necessity, made him
|
||
seek in variety the provocative that was wanting to raise
|
||
him to the pitch of enjoyment, which too he often saw him-
|
||
self baulked of, by the failure of his powers: and this
|
||
always threw him into a fit of rage, which he wreak'd, as
|
||
far as he durst, on the innocent objects of his fit of
|
||
momentary desire.
|
||
|
||
This then was the monster to which my conscientious
|
||
benefactress, who had long been his purveyor in this way,
|
||
had doom'd me, and sent for me down purposely for his ex-
|
||
amination. Accordingly she made me stand up before him,
|
||
turn'd me round, unpinn'd my handkerchief, remark'd to him
|
||
the rise and fall, the turn and whiteness of a bosom just
|
||
beginning to fill; then made me walk, and took even a han-
|
||
dle from the rusticity of my gait, to inflame the inventory
|
||
of my charms: in short, she omitted no point of jockeyship;
|
||
to which he only answer'd by gracious nods of approbation,
|
||
whilst he look'd goats and monkies at me: for I sometimes
|
||
stole a corner glance at him, and encountering his fiery,
|
||
eager stare, looked another way from pure horror and af-
|
||
fright, which he, doubtless in character, attributed to
|
||
nothing more than maiden modesty, or at least the affec-
|
||
tation of it.
|
||
|
||
However, I was soon dismiss'd, and reconducted to my
|
||
room by Phoebe, who stuck close to me, not leaving me alone
|
||
and at leisure to make such reflections as might naturally
|
||
rise to any one, not an idiot, on such a scene as I had just
|
||
gone through; but to my shame be it confess'd, such was my
|
||
invincible stupidity, or rather portentous innocence, that
|
||
I did not yet open my eyes to Mrs. Brown's designs, and saw
|
||
nothing in this titular cousin of hers but a shocking hide-
|
||
ous person which did not at all concern me, unless that my
|
||
respect to all her cousinhood.
|
||
|
||
Phoebe, however, began to sift the state and pulses of
|
||
my heart towards this monster, asking me how I should approve
|
||
of such a fine gentleman for a husband? (fine gentleman, I
|
||
suppose she called him, from his being daubed with lace). I
|
||
answered her very naturally, that I had no thoughts of a hus-
|
||
band, but that if I was to choose one, it should be among my
|
||
own degree, sure! So much had my aversion to that wretch's
|
||
hideous figure indisposed me to all "fine gentlemen," and
|
||
confounded my ideas, as if those of that rank had been neces-
|
||
sarily cast in the same mould that he was! But Phoebe was
|
||
not to be beat off so, but went on with her endeavours to
|
||
melt and soften me for the purposes of my reception into that
|
||
hospitable house: and whilst she talked of the sex in general,
|
||
she had no reason to despair of a compliance, which more than
|
||
one reason shewed her would be easily enough obtained of me;
|
||
but then she had too much experience not to discover that my
|
||
particular fix'd aversion to that frightful cousin would be a
|
||
block not so readily to be removed, as suited the consum-
|
||
mation of their bargain, and sale of me.
|
||
|
||
Mother Brown had in the mean time agreed the terms with
|
||
this liquorish old goat, which I afterwards understood were
|
||
to be fifty guineas peremptory for the liberty of attempting
|
||
me, and a hundred more at the compleat gratification of his
|
||
desires, in the triumph over my virginity: and as for me, I
|
||
was to be left entirely at the discretion of his liking and
|
||
generosity. This unrighteous contract being thus settled,
|
||
he was so eager to be put in possession, that he insisted
|
||
on being introduc'd to drink tea with me that afternoon,
|
||
when we were to be left alone; nor would he hearken to the
|
||
procuress's remonstrances, that I was not sufficiently pre-
|
||
pared and ripened for such an attack; that I was too green
|
||
and untam'd, having been scarce twenty-four hours in the
|
||
house: it is the character of lust to be impatient, and his
|
||
vanity arming him against any supposition of other than the
|
||
common resistance of a maid on those occasions, made him
|
||
reject all proposals of a delay, and my dreadful trial was
|
||
thus fix'd, unknown to me, for that very evening.
|
||
|
||
At dinner, Mrs. Brown and Phoebe did nothing but run
|
||
riot in praises of this wonderful cousin, and how happy
|
||
that woman would be that he would favour with his addresses;
|
||
in short my two gossips exhausted all their rhetoric to
|
||
persuade me to accept them: "that the gentleman was violently
|
||
smitten with me at first sight . . . that he would make my
|
||
fortune if I would be a good girl and not stand in my own
|
||
light . . . that I should trust his honour . . . that I
|
||
should be made for ever, and have a chariot to go abroad in
|
||
. . . ," with all such stuff as was fit to turn the head of
|
||
such a silly ignorant girl as I then was: but luckily here
|
||
my aversion had taken already such deep root in me, my heart
|
||
was so strongly defended from him by my senses, that wanting
|
||
the art to mask my sentiments, I gave them no hopes of their
|
||
employer's succeeding, at least very easily, with me. The
|
||
glass too march'd pretty quick, with a view, I suppose, to
|
||
make a friend of the warmth of my constitution, in the
|
||
minutes of the imminent attack.
|
||
|
||
Thus they kept me pretty long at table, and about six
|
||
in the evening, after I was retired to my own apartment, and
|
||
the tea board was set, enters my venerable mistress, follow'd
|
||
close by that satyr, who came in grinning in a way peculiar
|
||
to him, and by his odious presence confirm'd me in all the
|
||
sentiments of detestation which his first appearance had
|
||
given birth to.
|
||
|
||
He sat down fronting me, and all tea time kept ogling
|
||
me in a manner that gave me the utmost pain and confusion,
|
||
all the marks of which he still explained to be my bash-
|
||
fulness, and not being used to see company.
|
||
|
||
Tea over, the commoding old lady pleaded urgent busi-
|
||
ness (which indeed was true) to go out, and earnestly desir'd
|
||
me to entertain her cousin kindly till she came back, both
|
||
for my own sake and her's; and then with a "Pray, sir, be
|
||
very good, be very tender of the sweet child," she went out
|
||
of the room, leaving me staring, with my mouth open, and un-
|
||
prepar'd, by the suddenness of her departure, to oppose it.
|
||
|
||
We were now alone; and on that idea a sudden fit of
|
||
trembling seiz'd me. I was so afraid, without a precise
|
||
notion of why, and what I had to fear, that I sat on the
|
||
settee, by the fire-side, motionless, and petrified, with-
|
||
out life or spirit, not knowing how to look or how to stir.
|
||
|
||
But long I was not suffered to remain in this state of
|
||
stupefaction: the monster squatted down by me on the settee,
|
||
and without farther ceremony or preamble, flings his arms
|
||
about my neck, and drawing me pretty forcibly towards him,
|
||
oblig'd me to receive, in spite of my struggles to disengage
|
||
from him, his pestilential kisses, which quite overcame me.
|
||
Finding me then next to senseless, and unresisting, he tears
|
||
off my neck handkerchief, and laid all open there to his
|
||
eyes and hands: still I endur'd all without flinching, till
|
||
embolden'd by my sufferance and silence, for I had not the
|
||
power to speak or cry out, he attempted to lay me down on
|
||
the settee, and I felt his hand on the lower part of my
|
||
naked thighs, which were cross'd, and which he endeavoured
|
||
to unlock . . . Oh then! I was roused out of my passive
|
||
endurance, and springing from him with an activity he was
|
||
not prepar'd for, threw myself at his feet, and begg'd him,
|
||
in the most moving tone, not to be rude, and that he would
|
||
not hurt me:--"Hurt you, my dear?" says the brute; "I intend
|
||
you no harm . . . has not the old lady told you that I love
|
||
you? . . . that I shall do handsomely by you?" "She has
|
||
indeed, sir," said I; "but I cannot love you, indeed I can
|
||
not! . . . pray let me alone . . . yes! I will love you
|
||
dearly if you will let me alone, and go away . . . " But I
|
||
was talking to the wind; for whether my tears, my attitude,
|
||
or the disorder of my dress prov'd fresh incentives, or
|
||
whether he was not under the dominion of desires he could
|
||
not bridle, but snorting and foaming with lust and rage, he
|
||
renews his attack, seizes me, and again attempts to extend
|
||
and fix me on the settee: in which he succeeded so far as to
|
||
lay me along, and even to toss my petticoats over my head,
|
||
and lay my thighs bare, which I obstinately kept close, nor
|
||
could he, though he attempted with his knee to force them
|
||
open, effect it so as to stand fair for being master of the
|
||
main avenue; he was unbuttoned, both waistcoat and breeches,
|
||
yet I only felt the weight of his body upon me, whilst I lay
|
||
struggling with indignation, and dying with terror; but he
|
||
stopped all of a sudden, and got off, panting, blowing, curs-
|
||
ing, and repeating "old and ugly!" for so I had very natur-
|
||
ally called him in the heat of my defence.
|
||
|
||
The brute had, it seems, as I afterwards understood,
|
||
brought on, by his eagerness and struggle, the ultimate
|
||
period of his hot fit of lust, which his power was too short
|
||
liv'd to carry him through the full execution of; of which
|
||
my thighs and linen received the effusion.
|
||
|
||
When it was over he bid me, with a tone of displeasure,
|
||
get up, saying that he would not do me the honour to think
|
||
of me any more . . . that the old bitch might look out for
|
||
another cully . . . that he would not be fool'd so by e'er
|
||
a country mock modesty in England . . . that he supposed I
|
||
had left my maidenhead with some hobnail in the country,
|
||
and was come to dispose of my skin-milk in town, with a
|
||
volley of the like abuse; which I listened to with more
|
||
pleasure than ever fond woman did to protestations of love
|
||
from her darling minion: for, incapable as I was of re-
|
||
ceiving any addition to my perfect hatred and aversion to
|
||
him, I look'd on this railing as my security against his
|
||
renewing his most odious caresses.
|
||
|
||
Yet, plain as Mrs. Brown's views were now come out, I
|
||
had not the heart or spirit to open my eyes to them: still
|
||
I could not part with my dependence on that beldam, so
|
||
much did I think myself her's, soul and body: or rather, I
|
||
sought to deceive myself with the continuation of my good
|
||
opinion of her, and chose to wait the worst at her hands
|
||
sooner than be turn'd out to starve in the streets, with-
|
||
out a penny of money or a friend to apply to: these fears
|
||
were my folly.
|
||
|
||
Whilst this confusion of ideas was passing in my head,
|
||
and I sat pensive by the fire, with my eyes brimming with
|
||
tears, my neck still bare, and my cap fall'n off in the
|
||
struggle, so that my hair was in the disorder you may guess,
|
||
the villain's lust began, I suppose, to be again in flow, at
|
||
the sight of all that bloom of youth which presented itself
|
||
to his view, a bloom yet unenjoy'd, and of course not yet
|
||
indifferent to him.
|
||
|
||
After some pause, he ask'd me, with a tone of voice
|
||
mightily softened, whether I would make it up with him
|
||
before the old lady returned and all should be well; he
|
||
would restore me his affections, at the same time offering
|
||
to kiss me and feel my breasts. But now my extreme aver-
|
||
sion, my fears, my indignation, all acting upon me, gave me
|
||
a spirit not natural to me, so that breaking loose from him,
|
||
I ran to the bell and rang it, before he was aware, with
|
||
such violence and effect as brought up the maid to know what
|
||
was the matter, or whether the gentleman wanted any thing;
|
||
and before he could proceed to greater extremities, she
|
||
bounc'd into the room, and seeing me stretch'd on the floor,
|
||
my hair all dishevell'd, my nose gushing out blood, which
|
||
did not a little tragedize the scene, and my odious per-
|
||
secutor still intent of pushing his brutal point, unmoved by
|
||
all my cries and distress, she was herself confounded and
|
||
did not know what to say.
|
||
|
||
As much, however, as Martha might be prepared and
|
||
hardened to transactions of this sort, all womanhood must
|
||
have been out of her heart, could she have seen this un-
|
||
mov'd. Besides that, on the face of things, she imagined
|
||
that matters had gone greater lengths than they really
|
||
had, and that the courtesy of the house had been actually
|
||
consummated on me, and flung me into the condition I was
|
||
in: in this notion she instantly took my part, and advis'd
|
||
the gentleman to go down and leave me to recover myself,
|
||
and "that all would be soon over with me . . . that when
|
||
Mrs. Brown and Phoebe, who were gone out, were return'd,
|
||
they would take order for every thing to his satisfaction
|
||
. . . that nothing would be lost by a little patience with
|
||
the poor tender thing . . . that for her part she was . . .
|
||
frighten'd . . . she could not tell what to say to such
|
||
doings . . . but that she would stay by me till my mistress
|
||
came home." As the wench said all this in a resolute tone,
|
||
and the monster himself began to perceive that things would
|
||
not mend by his staying, he took his hat and went out of
|
||
the room, murmuring, and pleating his brows like an old ape,
|
||
so that I was delivered from the horrors of his detestable
|
||
presence.
|
||
|
||
As soon as he was gone, Martha very tenderly offered
|
||
me her assistance in any thing, and would have got me some
|
||
hartshorn drops, and put me to bed; which last, I at first
|
||
positively refused, in the fear that the monster might re-
|
||
turn and take me at that advantage. However, with much
|
||
persuasion, and assurances that I should not be molested
|
||
that night, she prevailed on me to lie down; and indeed I
|
||
was so weakened by my struggles, so dejected by my fearful
|
||
apprehensions, so terror-struck, that I had not power to
|
||
sit up, or hardly to give answers to the questions with
|
||
which the curious Martha ply'd and perplex'd me.
|
||
|
||
Such too, and so cruel was my fate, that I dreaded
|
||
the sight of Mrs. Brown, as if I had been the criminal
|
||
and she the person injur'd; a mistake which you will not
|
||
think so strange, on distinguishing that neither virtue
|
||
nor principles had the least share in the defence I had
|
||
made, but only the particular aversion I had conceiv'd
|
||
against the first brutal and frightful invader of my
|
||
tender innocence.
|
||
|
||
I pass'd then the time till Mrs. Brown's return home,
|
||
under all the agitations of fear and despair that may
|
||
easily be guessed.
|
||
|
||
PART 2
|
||
|
||
About eleven at night my two ladies came home, and hav-
|
||
ing receiv'd rather a favourable account from Martha, who
|
||
had run down to let them in, for Mr. Crofts (that was the
|
||
name of my brute) was gone out of the house, after waiting
|
||
till he had tired his patience for Mrs. Brown's return, they
|
||
came thundering up-stairs, and seeing me pale, my face
|
||
bloody, and all the marks of the most thorough dejection,
|
||
they employed themselves more to comfort and re-inspirit me,
|
||
than in making me the reproaches I was weak enough to fear,
|
||
I who had so many juster and stronger to retort upon them.
|
||
|
||
Mrs. Brown withdrawn, Phoebe came presently to bed to
|
||
me, and what with the answers she drew from me, what with
|
||
her own method of palpably satisfying herself, she soon dis-
|
||
covered that I had been more frighted than hurt; upon which
|
||
I suppose, being herself seiz'd with sleep, and reserving
|
||
her lectures and instructions till the next morning, she
|
||
left me, properly speaking, to my unrest; for, after tossing
|
||
and turning the greatest part of the night, and tormenting
|
||
myself with the falsest notions and apprehensions of things,
|
||
I fell, through mere fatigue, into a kind of delirious doze,
|
||
out of which I waded late in the morning, in a violent fever:
|
||
a circumstance which was extremely critical to reprieve me,
|
||
at least for a time, from the attacks of a wretch infinitely
|
||
more terrible to me than death itself.
|
||
|
||
The interested care that was taken of me during my ill-
|
||
ness, in order to restore me to a condition of making good
|
||
the bawd's engagements, or of enduring further trials, and
|
||
however such an effect on my grateful disposition, that I
|
||
even thought myself oblig'd to my undoers for their atten-
|
||
tion to promote my recovery; and, above all, for the keeping
|
||
out of my sight of that brutal ravisher, the author of my
|
||
disorder, on their finding I was too strongly mov'd at the
|
||
bare mention of his name.
|
||
|
||
Youth is soon raised, and a few days were sufficient to
|
||
conquer the fury of my fever: but, what contributed most to
|
||
my perfect recovery and to my reconciliation with life, was
|
||
the timely news that Mr. Crofts, who was a merchant of con-
|
||
siderable dealings, was arrested at the King's suit, for
|
||
nearly forty thousand pounds, on account of his driving a
|
||
certain contraband trade, and that his affairs were so des-
|
||
perate that even were it in his inclination, it would not
|
||
be in his power to renew his designs upon me: for he was
|
||
instantly thrown into a prison, which it was not likely he
|
||
would get out of in haste.
|
||
|
||
Mrs. Brown, who had touched his fifty guineas, advanc'd
|
||
to so little purpose, and lost all hopes of the remaining
|
||
hundred, began to look upon my treatment of him with a more
|
||
favourable eye; and as they had observ'd my temper to be
|
||
perfectly tractable and conformable to their views, all the
|
||
girls that compos'd her flock were suffered to visit me, and
|
||
had their cue to dispose me, by their conversation, to a
|
||
perfect resignation of myself to Mrs. Brown's direction.
|
||
|
||
Accordingly they were let in upon me, and all that
|
||
frolic and thoughtless gaiety in which those giddy creatures
|
||
consume their leisure made me envy a condition of which I
|
||
only saw the fair side; insomuch, that the being one of them
|
||
became even my ambitionP a disposition which they all care-
|
||
fully cultivated; and I wanted now nothing but to restore my
|
||
health, that I might be able to undergo the ceremony of the
|
||
initiation.
|
||
|
||
Conversation, example, all, in short, contributed, in
|
||
that house, to corrupt my native purity, which had taken no
|
||
root in education; whilst not the inflammable principal of
|
||
pleasure, so easily fired at my age, made strange work
|
||
within me, and all the modesty I was brought up in the
|
||
habit, not the instruction of, began to melt away like dew
|
||
before the sun's heat; not to mention that I made a vice of
|
||
necessity, from the constant fears I had of being turn'd
|
||
out to starve.
|
||
|
||
I was soon pretty well recover'd, and at certain hours
|
||
allow'd to range all over the house, but cautiously kept
|
||
from seeing any company till the arrival of Lord B . . .,
|
||
from Bath, to whom Mrs. Brown, in respect to his experi-
|
||
enced generosity on such occasions, proposed to offer the
|
||
perusal ot that trinket of mine, which bears so great an
|
||
imaginary value; and his lordship being expected in town
|
||
in less than a fortnight, Mrs. Brown judged I would be
|
||
entirely renewed in beauty and freshness by that time, and
|
||
afford her the chance of a better bargain than she had
|
||
driven with Mr. Crofts.
|
||
|
||
In the meantime, I was so thoroughly, as they call it,
|
||
brought over, so tame to their whistle, that, had my cage
|
||
door been set open, I had no idea that I ought to fly any-
|
||
where, sooner than stay where I was; nor had I the least
|
||
sense of regretting my condition, but waited very quietly
|
||
for whatever Mrs. Brown should order concerning me; who on
|
||
her side, by herself and her agents, took more than the
|
||
necessary precautions to lull and lay asleep all just re-
|
||
flections on my destination.
|
||
|
||
Preachments of morality over the left shoulder; a life
|
||
of joy painted in the gayest colours; caresses, promises,
|
||
indulgent treatment: nothing, in short, was wanting to do-
|
||
mesticate me entirely and to prevent my going out anywhere
|
||
to get better advice. Alas! I dream'd of no such thing.
|
||
|
||
Hitherto I had been indebted only to the girls of the
|
||
house for the corruption of my innocence: their luscious
|
||
talk, in which modesty was far from respected, their des-
|
||
cription of their engagements with men, had given me a
|
||
tolerable insight into the nature and mysteries of their
|
||
profession, at the same time that they highly provok'd an
|
||
itch of florid warm-spirited blood through every vein: but
|
||
above all, my bed-fellow Phoebe, whose pupil I more immedi-
|
||
ately was, exerted her talents in giving me the first
|
||
tinctures of pleasure: whilst nature, now warm'd and wan-
|
||
toned with discoveries so interesting, piqu'd a curiosity
|
||
which Phoebe artfully whetted, and leading me from question
|
||
to question of her own suggestion, explain'd to me all the
|
||
mysteries of Venus. But I could not long remain in such a
|
||
house as that, without being an eye-witness of more than I
|
||
could conceive from her descriptions.
|
||
|
||
One day, about twelve at noon, being thoroughly re-
|
||
cover'd of my fever, I happen'd to be in Mrs. Brown's dark
|
||
closet, where I had not been half an hour, resting upon the
|
||
maid's settle-bed, before I heard a rustling in the bed-
|
||
chamber, separated from the closet only by two sash-doors,
|
||
before the glasses of which were drawn two yellow damask
|
||
curtains, but not so close as to exclude the full view of
|
||
the room form any person in the closet.
|
||
|
||
I instantly crept softly, and posted myself so, that
|
||
seeing every thing minutely, I could not myself be seen;
|
||
and who should come in but the venerable mother Abbess
|
||
herself! handed in by a tall, brawny young Horse-grenadier,
|
||
moulded in the Hercules style: in fine, the choice of the
|
||
most experienced dame, in those affairs, in all London.
|
||
|
||
Oh! how still and hush did I keep at my stand, lest
|
||
any noise should baulk my curiosity, of bring Madam into
|
||
the closet!
|
||
|
||
But I had not much reason to fear either, for she was
|
||
so entirely taken up with her present great concern, that
|
||
she had no sense of attention to spare to any thing else.
|
||
|
||
Droll was it to see that clumsy fat figure of hers flop
|
||
down on the foot of the bed, opposite to the closet-door, so
|
||
that I had a full front-view of all her charms.
|
||
|
||
Her paramour sat down by her: he seemed to be a man of
|
||
very few words, and a great stomach; for proceeding instant-
|
||
ly to essentials, he gave her some hearty smacks, and thrust-
|
||
ing his hands into her breasts, disengag'd them from her
|
||
stays, in scorn of whose confinement they broke loose, and
|
||
swagged down, navel-low at least. A more enormous pair did
|
||
my eyes never behold, nor of a worse colour, flagging-soft,
|
||
and most lovingly contiguous: yet such as they were, this
|
||
neck-beef eater seem'd to paw them with a most uninvitable
|
||
gust, seeking in vain to confine or cover one of them with a
|
||
hand scarce less than a shoulder of mutton. After toying
|
||
with them thus some time, as if they had been worth it, he
|
||
laid her down pretty briskly, and canting up her petticoats,
|
||
made barely a mask of them to her broad red face, that
|
||
blush'd with nothing but brandy.
|
||
|
||
As he stood on one side, for a minute or so, unbutton-
|
||
ing his waist-coat and breeches, her fat, brawny thighs hung
|
||
down, and the whole greasy landscape lay fairly open to my
|
||
view; a wide open-mouth'd gap, overshaded with a grizzly
|
||
bush, seemed held out like a beggar's wallet for its pro-
|
||
vision.
|
||
|
||
But I soon had my eyes called off by a more striking
|
||
object, that entirely engross'd them.
|
||
|
||
Her sturdy stallion had now unbutton'd, and produced
|
||
naked, stiff, and erect, that wonderful machine, which I
|
||
had never seen before, and which, for the interest my own
|
||
seat of pleasure began to take furiously in it, I star'd at
|
||
with all the eyes I had: however, my senses were too much
|
||
flurried, too much concenter'd in that now burning spot of
|
||
mine, to observe any thing more than in general the make
|
||
and turn of that instrument, from which the instinct of
|
||
nature, yet more than all I had heard of it, now strongly
|
||
informed me I was to expect that supreme pleasure which she
|
||
had placed in the meeting of those parts so admirably fitted
|
||
for each other.
|
||
|
||
Long, however, the young spark did not remain before
|
||
giving it two or three shakes, by way of brandishing it; he
|
||
threw himself upon her, and his back being now towards me, I
|
||
could only take his being ingulph'd for granted, by the di-
|
||
rections he mov'd in, and the impossibility of missing so
|
||
staring a mark; and now the bed shook, the curtains rattled
|
||
so, that I could scarce hear the sighs and murmurs, the
|
||
heaves and pantings that accompanied the action, from the
|
||
beginning to the end; the sound and sight of which thrill'd
|
||
to the very soul of me, and made every vein of my body cir-
|
||
culate liquid fires: the emotion grew so violent that it
|
||
almost intercepted my respiration.
|
||
|
||
Prepared then, and disposed as I was by the discourse
|
||
of my companions, and Phoebe's minute detail of everything,
|
||
no wonder that such a sight gave the last dying blow to my
|
||
native innocence.
|
||
|
||
Whilst they were in the heat of the action, guided by
|
||
nature only, I stole my hand up my petticoats, and with
|
||
fingers all on fire, seized, and yet more inflamed that
|
||
center of all my senses: my heart palpitated, as if it
|
||
would force its way through my bosom; I breath'd with pain;
|
||
I twisted my thighs, squeezed, and compressed the lips of
|
||
that virgin slit, and following mechanically the example of
|
||
Phoebe's manual operation on it, as far as I could find
|
||
admission, brought on at last the critical extasy, the
|
||
melting flow, into which nature, spent with excess of
|
||
pleasure, dissolves and dies away.
|
||
|
||
After which, my senses recover'd coolness enough to
|
||
observe the rest of the transaction between this happy
|
||
pair.
|
||
|
||
The young fellow had just dismounted, when the old
|
||
lady immediately sprung up, with all the vigour of youth,
|
||
derived, no doubt, from her late refreshment; and making
|
||
him sit down, began in her turn to kiss him, to pat and
|
||
pinch his cheeks, and play with his hair: all which he
|
||
receiv'd with an air of indifference and coolness, that
|
||
shew'd him to me much altered from what he was when he
|
||
first went on to the breach.
|
||
|
||
My pious governess, however, not being above calling
|
||
in auxiliaries, unlocks a little case of cordials that
|
||
stood near the bed, and made him pledge her in a very
|
||
plentiful dram: after which, and a little amorous parley,
|
||
Madam sat herself down upon the same place, at the bed's
|
||
foot; and the young fellow standing sideway by her, she,
|
||
with the greatest effrontery imaginable, unbuttons his
|
||
breeches, and removing his shirt, draws out his affair, so
|
||
shrunk and diminish'd, that I could not but remember the
|
||
difference, now crestfallen, or just faintly lifting its
|
||
head: but our experienc'd matron very soon, by chafing it
|
||
with her hands, brought it to swell to that size and erec-
|
||
tion I had before seen it up to.
|
||
|
||
I admired then, upon a fresh account, and with a nicer
|
||
survey, the texture of that capital part of man: the flam-
|
||
ing red head as it stood uncapt, the whiteness of the
|
||
shaft, and the shrub growth of curling hair that embrowned
|
||
the roots of it, the roundish bag that dangled down from
|
||
it, all exacted my eager attention, and renewed my flame.
|
||
But, as the main affair was now at the point the industrious
|
||
dame had laboured to bring it to, she was not in the humour
|
||
to put off the payment of her pains, but laying herself
|
||
down, drew him gently upon her, and thus they finish'd in
|
||
the same manner as before, the old last act.
|
||
|
||
This over, they both went out lovingly together, the
|
||
old lady having first made him a present, as near as I
|
||
could observe, of three or four pieces; he being not only
|
||
her particular favourite on account of his performances,
|
||
but a retainer to the house; from whose sight she had taken
|
||
great care hitherto to secrete me, lest he might not have
|
||
had patience to wait for my lord's arrival, but have in-
|
||
sisted on being his taster, which the old lady was under
|
||
too much subjection to him to dare dispute with him; for
|
||
every girl of the house fell to him in course, and the old
|
||
lady only now and then got her turn, in consideration of
|
||
the maintenance he had, and which he could scarce be
|
||
accused of not earning from her.
|
||
|
||
As soon as I heard them go down-stairs, I stole up
|
||
softly to my own room, out of which I had luckily not been
|
||
miss'd; there I began to breathe freer, and to give a loose
|
||
to those warm emotions which the sight of such an encounter
|
||
had raised in me. I laid me down on the bed, stretched
|
||
myself out, joining and ardently wishing, and requiring any
|
||
means to divert or allay the rekindled rage and tumult of
|
||
my desires, which all pointed strongly to their pole: man.
|
||
I felt about the bed as if I sought for something that I
|
||
grasp'd in my waking dream, and not finding it, could have
|
||
cry'd for vexation; every part of me glowing with stimul-
|
||
ating fires. At length, I resorted to the only present
|
||
remedy, that of vain attempts at digitation, where the
|
||
smallness of the theatre did not yet afford room enough for
|
||
action, and where the pain my fingers gave me, in striving
|
||
for admission, tho' they procured me a slight satisfaction
|
||
for the present, started an apprehension, which I could not
|
||
be easy till I had communicated to Phoebe, and received her
|
||
explanations upon it.
|
||
|
||
The opportunity, however, did not offer till next
|
||
morning, for Phoebe did not come to bed till long after
|
||
I was gone to sleep. As soon then as we were both awake,
|
||
it was but in course to bring our ly-a-bed chat to land on
|
||
the subject of my uneasiness: to which a recital of the
|
||
love scene I had thus, by chance, been spectatress of,
|
||
serv'd for a preface.
|
||
|
||
Phoebe could not hear it to the end without more than
|
||
one interruption by peals of laughter, and my ingenuous way
|
||
of relating matters did not a little heighten the joke to
|
||
her.
|
||
|
||
But, on her sounding me how the sight had affected me,
|
||
without mincing or hiding the pleasurable emotions it had
|
||
inspir'd me with, I told her at the same time that one re-
|
||
mark had perplex'd me, and that very considerably.
|
||
---"Aye!" say she, "what was that?" --- "Why," replied I,
|
||
"having very curiously and attentively compared the size of
|
||
that enormous machine, which did not appear, at least to my
|
||
fearful imagination, less than my wrist, and at least three
|
||
of my handfuls long, to that of the tender small part of me
|
||
which was framed to receive it, I can not conceive its being
|
||
possible to afford it entrance without dying, perhaps in the
|
||
greatest pain, since you well know that even a finger thrust
|
||
in there hurts me beyond bearing . . . As to my mistress's
|
||
and yours, I can plainly distinguish the different dimen-
|
||
sions of them from mine, palpable to the touch, and visible
|
||
to the eye; so that, in short, great as the promis'd plea-
|
||
sure may be, I am afraid of the pain of the experiment."
|
||
|
||
Phoebe at this redoubled her laugh, and whilst I ex-
|
||
pected a very serious solution of my doubts and apprehen-
|
||
sions in this matter, only told me that she never heard of
|
||
a mortal wound being given in those parts by that terrible
|
||
weapon, and that some she knew younger, and as delicately
|
||
made as myself, had outlived the operation; that she be-
|
||
lieved, at the worst, I should take a great deal of kill-
|
||
ing; that true it was, there was a great diversity of sizes
|
||
in those parts, owing to nature, child-bearing, frequent
|
||
over-stretching with unmerciful machines, but that at a
|
||
certain age and habit of body, even the most experienc'd in
|
||
those affairs could not well distinguish between the maid
|
||
and the woman, supposing too an absence of all artifice,
|
||
and things in their natural situation: but that since
|
||
chance had thrown in my way one sight of that sort, she
|
||
would procure me another, that should feast my eyes more
|
||
delicately, and go a great way in the cure of my fears from
|
||
that imaginary disproportion.
|
||
|
||
On this she asked me if I knew Polly Philips. "Un-
|
||
doubtedly," says I, "the fair girl which was so tender of
|
||
me when I was sick, and has been, as you told me, but two
|
||
months in the house.": "The same," says Phoebe. "You must
|
||
know then, she is kept by a young Genoese merchant, whom
|
||
his uncle, who is immensely rich, and whose darling he is,
|
||
sent over here with an English merchant, his friend, on a
|
||
pretext of settling some accounts, but in reality to humour
|
||
his inclinations for travelling, and seeing the world. He
|
||
met casually with this Polly once in company, and taking a
|
||
liking to her, makes it worth her while to keep entirely to
|
||
him. He comes to her here twice or thrice a week, and she
|
||
receives him in her light closet up one pair of stairs,
|
||
where he enjoys her in a taste, I suppose, peculiar to the
|
||
heat, or perhaps the caprices of his own country. I say no
|
||
more, but to-morrow being his day, you shall see what passes
|
||
between them, from a place only known to your mistress and
|
||
myself."
|
||
|
||
You may be sure, in the ply I was now taking, I had no
|
||
objection to the proposal, and was rather a tip-toe for its
|
||
accomplishment.
|
||
|
||
At five in the evening, next day, Phoebe, punctual to
|
||
her promise, came to me as I sat alone in my own room, and
|
||
beckon'd me to follow her.
|
||
|
||
We went down the back-stairs very softly, and opening
|
||
the door of a dark closet, where there was some old furni-
|
||
ture kept, and some cases of liquor, she drew me in after
|
||
her, and fastening the door upon us, we had no light but
|
||
what came through a long crevice in the partition between
|
||
ours and the light closet, where the scene of action lay;
|
||
so that sitting on those low cases, we could, with the
|
||
greatest ease, as well as clearness, see all objects (our-
|
||
selves unseen), only by applying our eyes close to the cre-
|
||
vice, where the moulding of a panel had warped, or started
|
||
a little on the other side.
|
||
|
||
The young gentleman was the first person I saw, with
|
||
his back directly towards me, looking at a print. Polly
|
||
was not yet come: in less than a minute tho', the door
|
||
opened, and she came in; and at the noise the door made he
|
||
turned about, and came to meet her, with an air of the
|
||
greatest tenderness and satisfaction.
|
||
|
||
After saluting her, he led her to a couch that fronted
|
||
us, where they both sat down, and the young Genoese help'd
|
||
her to a glass of wine, with some Naples bisket on a salver.
|
||
|
||
Presently, when they had exchanged a few kisses, and
|
||
questions in broken English on one side, he began to un-
|
||
button, and, in fine, stript to his shirt.
|
||
|
||
As if this had been the signal agreed on for pulling
|
||
off all their cloaths, a scheme which the heat of the season
|
||
perfectly favoured, Polly began to draw her pins, and as she
|
||
had no stays to unlace, she was in a trice, with her gallant's
|
||
officious assistance, undress'd to all but her shift.
|
||
|
||
When he saw this, his breeches were immediately loos-
|
||
en'd, waist and knee bands, and slipped over his ankles,
|
||
clean off; his shirt collar was unbuttoned too: then, first
|
||
giving Polly an encouraging kiss, he stole, as it were, the
|
||
shift off the girl, who being, I suppose, broke and fami-
|
||
liariz'd to this humour, blush'd indeed, but less than I
|
||
did at the apparition of her, now standing stark-naked,
|
||
just as she came out of the hands of pure nature, with her
|
||
black hair loose and a-float down her dazzling white neck
|
||
and shoulders, whilst the deepen'd carnation of her cheeks
|
||
went off gradually into the hue of glaz'd snow: for such
|
||
were the blended tints and polish of her skin.
|
||
|
||
This girl could not be above eighteen: her face re-
|
||
gular and sweet-featur'd, her shape exquisite; nor could I
|
||
help envying her two ripe enchanting breasts, finely plump'd
|
||
out in flesh, but withal so round, so firm, that they sus-
|
||
tain'd themselves, in scorn of any stay: then their nipples,
|
||
pointing different ways, mark'd their pleasing separation;
|
||
beneath them lay the delicious tract of the belly, which
|
||
terminated in a parting or rift scarce discernible, that
|
||
modesty seem'd to retire downwards, and seek shelter be-
|
||
tween two plump fleshy thighs: the curling hair that over-
|
||
spread its delightful front, cloathed it with the richest
|
||
sable fur in the universe: in short, she was evidently a
|
||
subject for the painters to court her sitting to them for
|
||
a pattern of female beauty, in all the true price and pomp
|
||
of nakedness.
|
||
|
||
The young Italian (still in his shirt) stood gazing
|
||
and transported at the sight of beauties that might have
|
||
fir'd a dying hermit; his eager eyes devour'd her, as she
|
||
shifted attitudes at his discretion: neither were his hands
|
||
excluded their share of the high feast, but wander'd, on
|
||
the hunt of pleasure, over every part and inch of her body,
|
||
so qualified to afford the most exquisite sense of it.
|
||
|
||
In the mean time, one could not help observing the
|
||
swell of his shirt before, that bolster'd out, and shewed
|
||
the condition of things behind the curtain: but he soon
|
||
remov'd it, by slipping his shirt over his head; and now,
|
||
as to nakedness, they had nothing to reproach one another.
|
||
|
||
The young gentleman, by Phoebe's guess, was about two
|
||
and twenty; tall and well limb'd. His body was finely
|
||
form'd and of a most vigorous make, square-shoulder'd, and
|
||
broad-chested: his face was not remarkable in any way, but
|
||
for a nose inclining to the Roman, eyes large, black, and
|
||
sparkling, and a ruddiness in his cheeks that was the more
|
||
a grace, for his complexion was of the brownest, not of that
|
||
dusky dun colour which excludes the idea of freshness, but
|
||
of that clear, olive gloss which, glowing with life, dazzles
|
||
perhaps less than fairness, and yet pleases more, when it
|
||
pleases at all. His hair, being too short to tie, fell no
|
||
lower than his neck, in short easy curls; and he had a few
|
||
sprigs about his paps, that garnish'd his chest in a style
|
||
of strength and manliness. Then his grand movement, which
|
||
seem'd to rise out of a thicket of curling hair that spread
|
||
from the root all round thighs and belly up to the navel,
|
||
stood stiff and upright, but of a size to frighten me, by
|
||
sympathy, for the small tender part which was the object of
|
||
its fury, and which now lay expos'd to my fairest view; for
|
||
he had, immediately on stripping off his shirt, gently
|
||
push'd her down on the couch, which stood conveniently to
|
||
break her willing fall. Her thighs were spread out to their
|
||
utmost extension, and discovered between them the mark of
|
||
the sex, the red-center'd cleft of flesh, whose lips, ver-
|
||
milioning inwards, exprest a small rubid line in sweet
|
||
miniature, such as Guido's touch of colouring could never
|
||
attain to the life or delicacy of.
|
||
|
||
Phoebe, at this gave me a gentle jog, to prepare me for
|
||
a whispered question: whether I thought my little maidenhead
|
||
was much less? But my attention was too much engross'd, too
|
||
much enwrapp'd with all I saw, to be able to give her any
|
||
answer.
|
||
|
||
By this time the young gentleman had changed her pos-
|
||
ture from lying breadth to length-wise on the couch: but her
|
||
thighs were still spread, and the mark lay fair for him, who
|
||
now kneeling between them, display'd to us a side-view of
|
||
that fierce erect machine of his, which threaten'd no less
|
||
than splitting the tender victim, who lay smiling at the up-
|
||
lifted stroke, nor seem'd to decline it. He looked upon his
|
||
weapon himself with some pleasure, and guiding it with his
|
||
hand to the inviting slit, drew aside the lips, and lodg'd
|
||
it (after some thrusts, which Polly seem'd even to assist)
|
||
about half way; but there it stuck, I suppose from its grow-
|
||
ing thickness: he draws it again, and just wetting it with
|
||
spittle, re-enters, and with ease sheath'd it now up to the
|
||
hilt, at which Polly gave a deep sigh, which was quite
|
||
another tone than one of pain; he thrusts, she heaves, at
|
||
first gently, and in a regular cadence; but presently the
|
||
transport began to be too violent ot observe any order or
|
||
measure; their motions were too rapid, their kisses too
|
||
fierce and fervent for nature to support such fury long:
|
||
both seem'd to me out of themselves: their eyes darted
|
||
fires: "Oh! . . . oh! . . . I can't bear it . . . It is
|
||
too much . . . I die . . . I am going . . ." were Polly's
|
||
expressions of extasy: his joys were more silent; but soon
|
||
broken murmurs, sighs heart-fetch'd, and at length a dis-
|
||
patching thrust, as if he would have forced himself up her
|
||
body, and then motionless languor of all his limbs, all
|
||
shewed that the die-away moment was come upon him; which
|
||
she gave signs of joining with, by the wild throwing of her
|
||
hands about, closing her eyes, and giving a deep sob, in
|
||
which she seemed to expire in an agony of bliss.
|
||
|
||
When he had finish'd his stroke, and got from off her,
|
||
she lay still without the least motion, breathless, as it
|
||
should seem, with pleasure. He replaced her again breadth-
|
||
wise on the couch, unable to sit up, with her thighs open,
|
||
between which I could observe a kind of white liquid, like
|
||
froth, hanging about the outward lips of that recently
|
||
opened wound, which now glowed with a deeper red. Pre-
|
||
sently she gets up, and throwing her arms round him, seemed
|
||
far from undelighted with the trial he had put her to, to
|
||
judge at least by the fondness with which she ey'd and hung
|
||
upon him.
|
||
|
||
For my part, I will not pretend to describe what I
|
||
felt all over me during this scene; but from that instant,
|
||
adieu all fears of what man could do unto me; they were now
|
||
changed into such ardent desires, such ungovernable longings,
|
||
that I could have pull'd the first of that sex that should
|
||
present himself, by the sleeve, and offered him the bauble,
|
||
which I now imagined the loss of would be a gain I could not
|
||
too soon procure myself.
|
||
|
||
Phoebe, who had more experience, and to whom such
|
||
sights were not so new, could not however be unmoved at so
|
||
warm a scene; and drawing me away softly from the peep-hole,
|
||
for fear of being over-heard, guided me as near the door as
|
||
possible, all passive and obedient to her least signals.
|
||
|
||
Here was no room either to sit or lie, but making me
|
||
stand with my back towards the door, she lifted up my
|
||
petticoats, and with her busy fingers fell to visit and
|
||
explore that part of me where now the heat and irritations
|
||
were so violent that I was perfectly sick and ready to die
|
||
with desire; that the bare touch of her finger, in that
|
||
critical place, had the effect of a fire to a train, and
|
||
her hand instantly made her sensible to what a pitch I was
|
||
wound up, and melted by the sight she had thus procured me.
|
||
Satisfied then with her success in allaying a heat that
|
||
would have made me impatient of seeing the continuation of
|
||
the transactions between our amourous couple, she brought me
|
||
again to the crevice so favourable to our curiosity.
|
||
|
||
We had certainly been but a few instants away from it,
|
||
and yet on our return we saw every thing in good forwardness
|
||
for recommencing the tender hostilities.
|
||
|
||
The young foreigner was sitting down, fronting us, on
|
||
the couch, with Polly upon one knee, who had her arms round
|
||
his neck, whilst the extreme whiteness of her skin was not
|
||
undelightfully contrasted by the smooth glossy brown of her
|
||
lover's.
|
||
|
||
But who could count the fierce, unnumber's kisses given
|
||
and taken? in which I could of ten discover their exchanging
|
||
the velvet thrust, when both their mouths were double ton-
|
||
gued, and seemed to favour the mutual insertion with the
|
||
greatest gust and delight.
|
||
|
||
In the mean time, his red-headed champion, that has so
|
||
lately fled the pit, quell'd and abash'd, was now recover'd
|
||
to the top of his condition, perk'd and crested up between
|
||
Polly's thighs, who was not wanting, on her part, to coax
|
||
and deep it in good humour, stroking it, with her head down,
|
||
and received even its velvet tip between the lips of not its
|
||
proper mouth: whether she did this out of any particular
|
||
pleasure, or whether it was to render it more glib and easy
|
||
of entrance, I could not tell; but it had such an effect,
|
||
that the young gentleman seem'd by his eyes, that sparkled
|
||
with more excited lustre, and his inflamed countenance, to
|
||
receive increase of pleasure. He got up, and taking Polly
|
||
in his arms, embraced her, and said something too softly for
|
||
me to hear, leading her withal to the foot of the couch, and
|
||
taking delight to slap her thighs and posteriors with that
|
||
stiff sinew of his, which hit them with a spring that he
|
||
gave it with his hand, and made them resound again, but hurt
|
||
her about as much as he meant to hurt her, for she seemed to
|
||
have as frolic a taste as himself.
|
||
|
||
But guess my surprise, when I saw the lazy young rogue
|
||
lie down on his back, and gently pull down Polly upon him,
|
||
who giving way to his humour, straddled, and with her hands
|
||
conducted her blind favourite to the right place; and fol-
|
||
lowing her impulse, ran directly upon the flaming point of
|
||
this weapon of pleasure, which she stak'd herself upon, up
|
||
pierc'd and infix'd to the extremest hair-breadth of it:
|
||
thus she sat on him a few instants, enjoying and relishing
|
||
her situation, whilst he toyed with her provoking breasts.
|
||
Sometimes she would stoop to meet his kiss: but presently
|
||
the sting of pleasure spurr'd them up to fiercer action;
|
||
then began the storm of heaves, which, form the undermost
|
||
combatant, were thrusts at the same time, he crossing his
|
||
hands over her, and drawing her home to him with a sweet
|
||
violence: the inverted strokes of anvil over hammer soon
|
||
brought on the critical period, in which all the signs of a
|
||
close conspiring extasy informed us of the point they were
|
||
at.
|
||
|
||
For me, I could bear to see no more; I was so overcome,
|
||
so inflamed at the second part of the same play, that, mad
|
||
to an intolerable degree, I hugg'd, I clasped Phoebe, as if
|
||
she had wherewithal to relieve me. Pleased however with, and
|
||
pitying the taking she could feel me in, she drew me towards
|
||
the door, and opening it as softly as she could, we both got
|
||
off undiscover'd, and she reconducted me to my own room,
|
||
where, unable to keep my legs, in the agitation I was in, I
|
||
instantly threw myself down on the bed, where I lay trans-
|
||
ported, though asham'd at what I felt.
|
||
|
||
Phoebe lay down by me, and ask'd me archly if, now that
|
||
I had seen the enemy, and fully considered him, I was still
|
||
afraid of him? or did I think I could venture to come to a
|
||
close engagement with him? To all which, not a word on my
|
||
side; I sigh'd, and could scarce breathe. She takes hold of
|
||
my hand, and having roll'd up her own petticoats, forced it
|
||
half strivingly towards those parts, where, now grown more
|
||
knowing, I miss'd the main object of my wishes; and finding
|
||
not even the shadow of what I wanted, where every thing was
|
||
so flat, or so hollow, in the vexation I was in at it, I
|
||
should have withdrawn my hand but for fear of disobliging
|
||
her. Abandoning it then entirely to her management, she
|
||
made use of it as she thought proper, to procure herself
|
||
rather the shadow than the substance of any pleasure. For
|
||
my part, I now pin'd for more solid food, and promis'd
|
||
tacitly to myself that I would not be put off much longer
|
||
with this foolery from woman to woman, if Mrs. Brown did
|
||
not soon provide me with the essential specific. In short,
|
||
I had all the air of not being able to wait the arrival of
|
||
my lord B . . . tho' he was now expected in a very few days:
|
||
nor did I wait for him, for love itself took charge of the
|
||
disposal of me, in spite of interest, or gross lust.
|
||
|
||
It was now two days after the closet-scene, that I got
|
||
up about six in the morning, and leaving my bed-fellow fast
|
||
asleep, stole down, with no other thought than of taking a
|
||
little fresh air in a small garden, which our back-parlour
|
||
open'd into, and from which my confinement debarr'd me at
|
||
the times company came to the house; but now sleep and
|
||
silence reign'd all over it.
|
||
|
||
I open'd the parlour door, and well surpriz'd was I at
|
||
seeing, by the side of a fire half-our, a young gentleman in
|
||
the old lady's elbow chair, with his legs laid upon another,
|
||
fast asleep, and left there by his thoughtless companions,
|
||
who had drank him down, and then went off with every one his
|
||
mistress, whilst he stay'd behind by the courtesy of the old
|
||
matron, who would not disturb of turn him out in that con-
|
||
dition, at one in the morning; and beds, it is more than
|
||
probable, there were none to spare. On the table still re-
|
||
main'd the punch bowl and glasses, strew's about in their
|
||
usual disorder after a drunken revel.
|
||
|
||
But when I drew nearer, to view the sleeping one,
|
||
heavens! what a sight! No! no term of years, no turn of
|
||
fortune could ever erase the lightning-like impression
|
||
his form made on me . . . Yes! dearest object of my ear-
|
||
liest passion, I command for ever the remembrance of thy
|
||
first appearance to my ravish'd eyes . . . it calls thee
|
||
up, present; and I see thee now!
|
||
|
||
Figure to yourself, Madam, a fair stripling, between
|
||
eighteen and nineteen, with his head reclin'd on one of the
|
||
sides of the chair, his hair in disorder'd curls, irregular-
|
||
ly shading a face on which all the roseate bloom of youth
|
||
and all the manly graces conspired to fix my eyes and heart.
|
||
Even the languor and paleness of his face, in which the
|
||
momentary triumph of the lily over the rose was owing to the
|
||
excesses of the night, gave an inexpressible sweetness to
|
||
the finest features imaginable: his eyes, closed in sleep,
|
||
displayed the meeting edges of their lids beautifully bor-
|
||
dered with long eyelashes; over which no pencil could have
|
||
described two more regular arches than those that grac'd his
|
||
forehead, which was high, prefectly white and smooth. Then
|
||
a pair of vermilion lips, pouting and swelling to the touch,
|
||
as if a bee had freshly stung them, seem'd to challenge me
|
||
to get the gloves off this lovely sleeper, had not the mod-
|
||
esty and respect, which in both sexes are inseparable from
|
||
a true passion, check'd my impulses.
|
||
|
||
But on seeing his shirt-collar unbutton'd, and a bosom
|
||
whiter than a drift of snow, the pleasure of considering it
|
||
could not bribe me to lengthen it, at the hazard of a health
|
||
that began to be my life's concern. Love, that made me
|
||
timid, taught me to be tender too. With a trembling hand I
|
||
took hold of one of his, and waking his as gently as possi-
|
||
ble, he started, and looking, at first a little wildly, said
|
||
with a voice that sent its harmonious sound to my heart:
|
||
"Pray, child, what o'clock is it?" I told him, and added
|
||
that he might catch cold if he slept longer with his breast
|
||
open in the cool of the morning air. On this he thanked me
|
||
with a sweetness perfectly agreeing with that of his fea-
|
||
tures and eyes; the last now broad open, and eagerly sur-
|
||
veying me, carried the sprightly fires they sparkled with
|
||
directly to my heart.
|
||
It seems that having drank too freely before he came
|
||
upon the rake with some of his young companions, he had put
|
||
himself out of a condition to go through all the weapons
|
||
with them, and crown the night with getting a mistress; so
|
||
that seeing me in a loose undress, he did not doubt but I
|
||
was one of the misses of the house, sent in to repair his
|
||
loss of time; but though he seiz'd that notion, and a very
|
||
obvious one it was, without hesitation, yet, whether my
|
||
figure made a more than ordinary impression on him, or
|
||
whether it was natural politeness, he address'd me in a
|
||
manner far from rude, tho' still on the foot of one of the
|
||
house pliers, come to amuse him; and giving me the first
|
||
kiss that I ever relish'd from man in my life, ask'd me it
|
||
I could favour him with my company, assuring me that he
|
||
would make it worth my while: but had not even new-born
|
||
love, that true refiner of lust, oppos'd so sudden a sur-
|
||
render, the fear of being surpriz'd by the house was a
|
||
sufficient bar to my compliance.
|
||
|
||
I told him then, in a tone set me by love itself, that
|
||
for reasons I had not time to explain to him, I could not
|
||
stay with him, and might not even ever see him again: with
|
||
a sigh at these last words, which broke from the bottom of
|
||
my heart. My conqueror, who, as he afterwards told me, had
|
||
been struck with my appearance, and lik'd me as much as he
|
||
could think of liking any one in my suppos'd way of life,
|
||
ask'd me briskly at once if I would be kept by him, and that
|
||
he would take a lodging for me directly, and relieve me from
|
||
any engagements he presum'd I might be under to the house.
|
||
Rash, sudden, undigested, and even dangerous as this offer
|
||
might be from a perfect stranger, and that stranger a giddy
|
||
boy, the prodigious love I was struck with for him had put a
|
||
charm into his voice there was no resisting, and blinded me
|
||
to every objection; I could, at that instant, have died for
|
||
him: think if I could resist an invitation to live with him!
|
||
Thus my heart, beating strong to the proposal, dictated my
|
||
answer, after scarce a minute's pause, that I would accept
|
||
of his offer, and make my escape to him in what way he
|
||
pleased, and that I would be entirely at his disposal, let
|
||
it be good or bad. I have often since wondered that so
|
||
great an easiness did not disgust him, or make me too cheap
|
||
in his eyes, but my fate had so appointed it, that in his
|
||
fears of the hazard of the town, he had been some time
|
||
looking out for a girl to take into keeping, and my person
|
||
happening to hit his fancy, it was by one of those miracles
|
||
reserved to love that we struck the bargain in the instant,
|
||
which we sealed by an exchange of kisses, that the hopes of
|
||
a more uninterrupted enjoyment engaged him to content him-
|
||
self with.
|
||
|
||
Never, however, did dear youth carry in his person,
|
||
more wherewith to justify the turning of a girl's head, and
|
||
making her set all consequences at defiance for the sake of
|
||
following a gallant.
|
||
|
||
For, besides all the perfections of manly beauty which
|
||
were assembled in his form, he had an air of neatness and
|
||
gentility, a certain smartness in the carriage and port of
|
||
his head, that yet more distinguish'd him; his eyes were
|
||
sprightly and full of meaning; his looks had in them some-
|
||
thing at once sweet and commanding. His complexion out-
|
||
bloom'd the lovely-colour'd rose, whilst its inimitable
|
||
tender vivid glow clearly sav'd from the reproach of want-
|
||
ing life, of raw and dough-like, which is commonly made to
|
||
those so extremely fair as he was.
|
||
|
||
Our little plan was that I should get out about seven
|
||
the next morning (which I could readily promise, as I knew
|
||
where to get the key of the street-door), and he would wait
|
||
at the end of the street with a coach to convey me safe off;
|
||
after which, he would send, and clear any debt incurr'd by
|
||
my stay at Mrs. Brown's, who, he only judged, in gross,
|
||
might not care to part with one he thought so fit to draw
|
||
custom to the house.
|
||
|
||
I then just hinted to him not to mention in the house
|
||
his having seen such a person as me, for reasons I would
|
||
explain to him more at leisure. And then, for fear of
|
||
miscarrying, by being seen together, I tore myself from
|
||
him with a bleeding heart, and stole up softly to my room,
|
||
where I found Phoebe still fast asleep, and hurrying off my
|
||
few cloaths, lay down by her, with a mixture of joy and
|
||
anxiety that may be easier conceived than express'd.
|
||
|
||
The risks of Mrs. Brown's discovering my purpose, of
|
||
disappointments, misery, ruin, all vanish'd before this new-
|
||
kindl'd flame. The seeing, the touching, the being, if but
|
||
for a night, with this idol of my fond virgin-heart, appeared
|
||
to me a happiness above the purchase of my liberty or life.
|
||
He might use me ill, let him! he was the master; happy, too
|
||
happy, even to receive death at so dear a hand.
|
||
|
||
To this purpose were the reflections of the whole day,
|
||
of which every minute seem'd to me a little eternity. How
|
||
often did I visit the clock! nay, was tempted to advance
|
||
the tedious hand, as if that would have advanc'd the time
|
||
with it! Had those of the house made the least observations
|
||
on me, they must have remark'd something extraordinary from
|
||
the discomposure I could not help betraying; especially when
|
||
at dinner mention was made of the charmingest youth having
|
||
been there, and stay'd breakfast. "Oh! he was such a beauty!
|
||
. . . I should have died for him! . . . they would pull caps
|
||
for him! . . ." and the like fooleries, which, however, was
|
||
throwing oil on a fire I was sorely put to it to smother the
|
||
blaze of.
|
||
|
||
The fluctuations of my mind, the whole day, produc'd
|
||
one good effect: which was, that, through mere fatigue, I
|
||
slept tolerably well till five in the morning, when I got up,
|
||
and having dress'd myself, waited, under the double tortures
|
||
of fear and impatience, for the appointed hour. It came at
|
||
last, the dear, critical, dangerous hour came; and now, sup-
|
||
ported only by the courage love lent me, I ventured, a tip-
|
||
toe, down-stairs, leaving my box behind, for fear of being
|
||
surpriz'd with it in going out.
|
||
|
||
I got to the street-door, the key whereof was always
|
||
laid on the chair by our bed-side, in trust with Phoebe, who
|
||
having not the least suspicion of my entertaining any design
|
||
to go from them (nor indeed had I but the day before), made
|
||
no reserve or concealment of it from me. I open'd the door
|
||
with great ease; love, that embolden'd, protected me too:
|
||
and now, got safe into the street, I saw my new guardian-
|
||
angel waiting at a coach-door, ready open. How I got to him
|
||
I know not: I suppose I flew; but I was in the coach in a
|
||
trice, and he by the side of me, with his arms clasp'd round
|
||
me, and giving me the kiss of welcome. The coachman had his
|
||
orders, and drove to them.
|
||
|
||
My eyes were instantly fill'd with tears, but tears of
|
||
the most delicious delight; to find myself in the arms of
|
||
that beauteous youth was a rapture that my little heart swam
|
||
in. Past or future were equally out of the question with
|
||
me. The present was as much as all my powers of life were
|
||
sufficient to bear the transport of, without fainting. Nor
|
||
were the most tender embraces, the most soothing expressions
|
||
wanting on his side, to assure me of his love, and of never
|
||
giving me cause to repent the bold step I had taken, in
|
||
throwing myself thus entirely upon his honour and generosity.
|
||
But, alas! this was no merit in me, for I was drove to it by
|
||
a passion too impetuous for me to resist, and I did what I
|
||
did because I could not help it.
|
||
|
||
In an instant, for time was now annihilated with me, we
|
||
landed at a public house in Chelsea, hosipitably commodious
|
||
for the reception of duet-parties of pleasure, where a break-
|
||
fast of chocolate was prepared for us.
|
||
|
||
An old jolly stager, who kept it, and understood life
|
||
perfectly well, breakfasted with us, and leering archly at
|
||
me, gave us both joy, and said we were well paired, i' faith!
|
||
that a great many gentlemen and ladies used his house, but he
|
||
had never seen a handsomer couple . . . he was sure I was a
|
||
fresh piece . . . I look'd so country, so innocent! well my
|
||
spouse was a lucky man! . . . all which common landlord's
|
||
cant not only pleas'd and sooth'd me, but help'd to divert
|
||
my confusion at being with my new sovereign, whom, now the
|
||
minute approach'd, I began to fear to be alone with: a
|
||
timidity which true love had a greater share in than even
|
||
maiden bashfulness.
|
||
|
||
I wish'd, I doted, I could have died for him; and yet,
|
||
I know not how, or why, I dreaded the point which had been
|
||
the object of my fiercest wishes; my pulses beat fears,
|
||
amidst a flush of the warmest desires. This struggle of the
|
||
passions, however, this conflict betwixt modesty and love-
|
||
sick longings, made me burst again into tears; which he took,
|
||
as he had done before, only for the remains of concern and
|
||
emotion at the suddenness of my change of condition, in com-
|
||
mitting myself to his care; and, in consequence of that idea,
|
||
did and said all that he thought would most comfort and re-
|
||
inspirit me.
|
||
|
||
After breakfast, Charles (the dear familiar name I must
|
||
take the liberty henceforward to distinguish my Adonis by),
|
||
with a smile full of meaning, took me gently by the hand, and
|
||
said: "Come, my dear, I will show you a room that commands a
|
||
fine prospect over some gardens"; and without waiting for an
|
||
answer, in which he relieved me extremely, he led me up into
|
||
a chamber, airy and light-some, where all seeing of prospects
|
||
was out of the question, except that of a bed, which had all
|
||
the air of having recommended the room to him.
|
||
|
||
Charles had just slipp'd the bolt of the door, and run-
|
||
ning, caught me in his arms, and lifting me from the ground,
|
||
with his lips glew'd to mine, bore me, trembling, panting,
|
||
dying, with soft fears and tender wishes, to the bed; where
|
||
his impatience would not suffer him to undress me, more than
|
||
just unpinning my handkerchief and gown, and unlacing my
|
||
stays.
|
||
|
||
My bosom was now bare, and rising in the warmest throbs,
|
||
presented to his sight and feeling the firm hard swell of a
|
||
pair of young breasts, such as may be imagin'd of a girl not
|
||
sixteen, fresh out of the country, and never before handled;
|
||
but even their pride, whiteness, fashion, pleasing resistance
|
||
to the touch, could not bribe his restless hands from roving;
|
||
but giving them the loose, my petticoats and shift were soon
|
||
taken up, and their stronger center of attraction laid open
|
||
to their tender invasion. My fears, however, made me mechan-
|
||
ically close my thighs; but the very touch of his hand insin-
|
||
uated between them, disclosed them and opened a way for the
|
||
main attack.
|
||
|
||
In the mean time, I lay fairly exposed to the examina-
|
||
tion of his eyes and hands, quiet and unresisting; which
|
||
confirm'd him the opinion he proceeded so cavalierly upon,
|
||
that I was no novice in these matters, since he had taken
|
||
me out of a common bawdy-house, nor had I said one thing to
|
||
prepossess him of my virginity; and if I had, he would
|
||
sooner have believ'd that I took him for a cully that would
|
||
swallow such an improbability, than that I was still mis-
|
||
tress of that darling treasure, that hidden mine, so eagerly
|
||
sought after by the men, and which they never dig for, but
|
||
to destroy.
|
||
|
||
Being now too high wound up to bear a delay, he un-
|
||
button'd, and drawing out the engine of love-assaults, drove
|
||
it currently, as at a ready-made breach . . . Then! then!
|
||
for the first time, did I feel that stiff horn-hard gristle,
|
||
battering against the tender part; but imagine to yourself
|
||
his surprize when he found, after several vigorous pushes
|
||
which hurt me extremely, that he made not the least im-
|
||
pression.
|
||
|
||
I complain'd but tenderly complain'd that I could not
|
||
bear it . . . indeed he hurt me! . . . Still he thought no
|
||
more than that being so young, the largeness of his machine
|
||
(for few men could dispute size with him) made all the dif-
|
||
iculty; and that possible I had not been enjoy'd by any so
|
||
advantageously made in that part as himself: for still,
|
||
that my virgin flower was yet uncrop'd, never enter'd into
|
||
his head, and he would have thought it idling with time and
|
||
words to have question'd me upon it.
|
||
|
||
He tries again, still no admittance, still no penetra-
|
||
tion; but he had hurt me yet more, whilst my extreme love
|
||
made me bear extreme pain, almost without a groan. At
|
||
length, after repeated fruitless trials, he lay down panting
|
||
by me, kiss'd my falling tears, and asked me tenderly what
|
||
was the meaning of so much complaining? and if I had not
|
||
borne it better from others than I did from him? I answered,
|
||
with a simplicity fram'd to persuade, that he was the first
|
||
man that ever serv'd me so. Truth is powerful, and it is
|
||
not always that we do not believe what we eagerly wish.
|
||
|
||
Part 3
|
||
|
||
Charles, already dispos'd by the evidence of his senses
|
||
to think my pretences to virginity not entirely apocryphal,
|
||
smothers me with kisses, begs me, in the name of love, to
|
||
have a little patience, and that he will be as tender of
|
||
hurting me as he would be of himself.
|
||
|
||
Alas! it was enough I knew his pleasure to submit joy-
|
||
fully to him, whatever pain I foresaw it would cost me.
|
||
|
||
He now resumes his attempts in more form: first, he put
|
||
one of the pillows under me, to give the blank of his aim a
|
||
more favourable elevation, and another under my head, in
|
||
ease of it; then spreading my thighs, and placing himself
|
||
standing between them, made them rest upon his hips; apply-
|
||
ing then the point of his machine to the slit, into which he
|
||
sought entrance: it was so small, he could scarce assure
|
||
himself of its being rightly pointed. He looks, he feels,
|
||
and satisfies himself: the driving forward with fury, its
|
||
prodigious stiffness, thus impacted, wedgelike, breaks the
|
||
union of those parts, and gain'd him just the insertion of
|
||
the tip of it, lip-deep; which being sensible of, he improv-
|
||
ed his advantage, and following well his stroke, in a
|
||
straight line, forcibly deepens his penetration; but put me
|
||
to such intolerable pain, from the separation of the sides
|
||
of that soft passage by a hard thick body, I could have
|
||
scream'd out; but, as I was unwilling to alarm the house, I
|
||
held in my breath, and cramm'd my petticoat, which was
|
||
turn'd up over my face, into my mouth, and bit it through
|
||
in the agony. At length, the tender texture of that tract
|
||
giving way to such fierce tearing and rending, he pierc'd
|
||
something further into me: and now, outrageous and no longer
|
||
his own master, but borne headlong away by the fury and
|
||
over-mettle of that member, now exerting itself with a kind
|
||
of native rage, he breaks in, carries all before him, and
|
||
one violent merciless lunge sent it, imbrew'd, and reeking
|
||
with virgin blood, up to the very hilt in me . . . Then!
|
||
then all my resolution deserted me: I scream'd out, and
|
||
fainted away with the sharpness of the pain; and, as he told
|
||
me afterwards, on his drawing out, when emission was over
|
||
with him, my thighs were instantly all in a stream of blood
|
||
that flow'd from the wounded torn passage.
|
||
|
||
When I recover'd my senses, I found myself undress'd,
|
||
and a-bed, in the arms of the sweet relenting murderer of my
|
||
virginity, who hung mourning tenderly over me, and holding
|
||
in his hand a cordial, which, coming from the still dear
|
||
author of so much pain, I could not refuse; my eyes, however,
|
||
moisten'd with tears, and languishingly turn'd upon him,
|
||
seemed to reproach him with his cruelty, and ask him if such
|
||
were the rewards of love. But Charles, to whom I was now
|
||
infinitely endear'd by this complete triumph over a maiden-
|
||
head, where he so little expected to find one, in tenderness
|
||
to that pain which he had put me to, in procuring himself
|
||
the height of pleasure, smother'd his exultation, and em-
|
||
ploy'd himself with so much sweetness, so much warmth, to
|
||
sooth, to caress, and comfort me in my soft complainings,
|
||
which breath'd, indeed, more love than resentment, that I
|
||
presently drown'd all sense of pain in the pleasure of seeing
|
||
him, of thinking that I belong'd to him: he who was now the
|
||
absolute disposer of my happiness, and, in one word, my fate.
|
||
|
||
The sore was, however, too tender, the wound too bleed-
|
||
ing fresh, for Charles's good-nature to put my patience pre-
|
||
sently to another trial; but as I could not stir, or walk
|
||
across the room, he order'd the dinner to be brought to the
|
||
bed-side, where it could not be otherwise than my getting
|
||
down the wing of a fowl, and two or three glasses of wine,
|
||
since it was my ador'd youth who both serv'd, and urged them
|
||
on me, with that sweet irresistible authority with which love
|
||
had invested him over me.
|
||
|
||
After dinner, and as everything but the wine was taken
|
||
away, Charles very impudently asks a leave, he might read the
|
||
grant of in my eyes, to come to bed to me, and accordingly
|
||
falls to undressing; which I could not see the progress of
|
||
without strange emotions of fear and pleasure.
|
||
|
||
He is now in bed with me the first time, and in broad
|
||
day; but when thrusting up his own shirt and my shift, he
|
||
laid his naked glowing body to mine . . . oh! insupportable
|
||
delight! oh! superhuman rapture! what pain could stand be-
|
||
fore a pleasure so transporting? I felt no more the smart
|
||
of my wounds below; but, curling round him like the tendril
|
||
of a vine, as if I fear'd any part of him should be un-
|
||
touch'd or unpress'd by me, I return'd his strenuous em-
|
||
braces and kisses with a fervour and gust only known to true
|
||
love, and which mere lust could never rise to.
|
||
|
||
Yes, even at this time, when all the tyranny of the
|
||
passions is fully over and my veins roll no longer but a
|
||
cold tranquil stream, the remembrance of those passages
|
||
that most affected me in my youth, still cheers and re-
|
||
freshes me. Let me proceed then. My beauteous youth was
|
||
now glew'd to me in all the folds and twists that we could
|
||
make our bodies meet in; when, no longer able to rein in the
|
||
fierceness of refresh'd desires, he gives his steed the head
|
||
and gently insinuating his thighs between mine, stopping my
|
||
mouth with kisses of humid fire, makes a fresh irruption,
|
||
and renewing his thrusts, pierces, tears, and forces his way
|
||
up the torn tender folds that yielded him admission with a
|
||
smart little less severe that when the breach was first made.
|
||
I stifled, however, my cries, and bore him with the passive
|
||
fortitude of a heroine; soon his thrusts, more and more fur-
|
||
ious, cheeks flush'd with a deeper scarlet, his eyes turn'd
|
||
up in the fervent fit, some dying sighs, and an agonizing
|
||
shudder, announced the approaches of that extatic pleasure,
|
||
I was yet in too much pain to come in for my share of it.
|
||
|
||
Nor was it till after a few enjoyments had numb'd and
|
||
blunted the sense of the smart, and given me to feel the
|
||
titillating inspersion of balsamic sweets, drew from me the
|
||
delicious return, and brought down all my passion, that I
|
||
arrived at excess of pleasure through excess of pain. But,
|
||
when successive engagements had broke and inur'd me, I began
|
||
to enter into the true unallay'd relish of that pleasure of
|
||
pleasures, when the warm gush darts through all the ravish'd
|
||
inwards; what floods of bliss! what melting transports! what
|
||
agonies of delight! too fierce, too mighty for nature to
|
||
sustain; well has she therefore, no doubt, provided the re-
|
||
lief of a delicious momentary dissolution, the approaches of
|
||
which are intimated by a dear delirium, a sweet thrill on the
|
||
point of emitting those liquid sweets, in which enjoyment
|
||
itself is drown'd, when one gives the languishing stretch-out,
|
||
and dies at the discharge.
|
||
|
||
How often, when the rage and tumult of my senses had
|
||
subsided after the melting flow, have I, in a tender medi-
|
||
tation ask'd myself coolly the question, if it was in nature
|
||
for any of its creatures to be so happy as I was? Or, what
|
||
were all fears of the consequence, put in the scale of one
|
||
night's enjoyment of any thing so transcendently the taste
|
||
of my eyes and heart, as that delicious, fond, matchless
|
||
youth?
|
||
|
||
Thus we spent the whole afternoon till supper time in
|
||
a continued circle of love delights, kissing, turtle-billing,
|
||
toying, and all the rest of the feast. At length, supper
|
||
was serv'd in, before which Charles had, for I do not know
|
||
what reason, slipt his cloaths on; and sitting down by the
|
||
bed-side, we made table and table-cloth of the bed and sheets,
|
||
whilst he suffer'd nobody to attend or serve but himself. He
|
||
ate with a very good appetite, and seem'd charm'd to see me
|
||
eat. For my part, I was so enchanted with my fortune, so
|
||
transported with the comparison of the delights I now swam
|
||
in, with the insipidity of all my past scenes of life, that
|
||
I thought them sufficiently cheap at even the price of my
|
||
ruin, or the risk of their not lasting. The present pos-
|
||
session was all my little head could find room for.
|
||
|
||
We lay together that night, when, after playing re-
|
||
peated prizes of pleasure, nature, overspent and satisfy'd,
|
||
gave us up to the arms of sleep: those of my dear youth en-
|
||
circled me, the consciousness of which made even that sleep
|
||
more delicious.
|
||
|
||
Late in the morning I wak'd first; and observing my
|
||
lover slept profoundly, softly disengag'd myself from his
|
||
arms, scarcely daring to breathe for fear of shortening his
|
||
repose; my cap, my hair, my shift, were all in disorder from
|
||
the rufflings I had undergone; and I took this opportunity
|
||
to adjust and set them as well as I could: whilst, every now
|
||
and then, looking at the sleeping youth with inconceivable
|
||
fondness and delight, and reflecting on all the pain he had
|
||
put me to, tacitly own'd that the pleasure had overpaid me
|
||
for my sufferings.
|
||
|
||
It was then broad day. I was sitting up in the bed,
|
||
the cloaths of which were all tossed, or rolled off, by the
|
||
unquietness of our motions, from the sultry heat of the
|
||
weather; nor could I refuse myself a pleasure that solicited
|
||
me so irresistibly, as this fair occasion of feasting my
|
||
sight with all those treasures of youthful beauty I had en-
|
||
joy'd, and which lay now almost entirely naked, his shirt
|
||
being truss'd up in a perfect wisp, which the warmth of the
|
||
room and season made me easy about the consequence of. I
|
||
hung over him enamour'd indeed! and devoured all his naked
|
||
charms with only two eyes, when I could have wish'd them at
|
||
least a hundred, for the fuller enjoyment of the gaze.
|
||
|
||
Oh! could I paint his figure as I see it now, still
|
||
present to my transported imagination! a whole length of an
|
||
allperfect, manly beauty in full view. Think of a face
|
||
without a fault, glowing with all the opening bloom and
|
||
vernal freshness of an age in which beauty is of either sex,
|
||
and which the first down over his upper lip scarce began to
|
||
distinguish.
|
||
|
||
The parting of the double ruby pout of his lips seem'd
|
||
to exhale an air sweeter and purer than what it drew in: ah!
|
||
what violence did it not cost me to refrain the so tempted
|
||
kiss!
|
||
|
||
Then a neck exquisitely turn'd, grac'd behind and on
|
||
the sides with his hair, playing freely in natural ringlets,
|
||
connected his head to a body of the most perfect form, and
|
||
of the most vigorous contexture, in which all the strength
|
||
of manhood was conceal'd and soften'd to appearance by the
|
||
delicacy of his complexion, the smoothness of his skin, and
|
||
the plumpness of his flesh.
|
||
|
||
The platform of his snow-white bosom, that was laid out
|
||
in a manly proportion, presented, on the vermilion summit of
|
||
each pap, the idea of a rose about to blow.
|
||
|
||
Nor did his shirt hinder me from observing that symmetry
|
||
of his limbs, that exactness of shape, in the fall of it to-
|
||
wards the loins, where the waist ends and the rounding swell
|
||
of the hips commences; where the skin, sleek, smooth, and
|
||
dazzling white, burnishes on the stretch over firm, plump,
|
||
ripe flesh, that crimp'd and ran into dimples at the least
|
||
pressure, or that the touch could not rest upon, but slid
|
||
over as on the surface of the most polished ivory.
|
||
|
||
His thighs, finely fashioned, and with a florid glossy
|
||
roundness, gradually tapering away to the knees, seem'd
|
||
pillars worthy to support that beauteous frame; at the
|
||
bottom of which I could not, without some remains of terror,
|
||
some tender emotions too, fix my eyes on that terrible mac-
|
||
hine, which had, not long before, with such fury broke into,
|
||
torn, and almost ruin'd those soft, tender parts of mine
|
||
that had not yet done smarting with the effects of its rage;
|
||
but behold it now! crest fall'n, reclining its half-capt
|
||
vermilion head over one of his thighs, quiet, pliant, and to
|
||
all appearance incapable of the mischiefs and cruelty it had
|
||
committed. Then the beautiful growth of the hair, in short
|
||
and soft curls round its root, its whiteness, branch'd veins,
|
||
the supple softness of the shaft, as it lay foreshort'd,
|
||
roll'd and shrunk up into a squab thickness, languid, and
|
||
borne up from between his thighs by its globular appendage,
|
||
that wondrous treasure-bag of nature's sweets, which,
|
||
rivell'd round, and purs'd up in the only wrinkles that are
|
||
known to please, perfected the prospect, and all together
|
||
formed the most interesting moving picture in nature, and
|
||
surely infinitely superior to those nudities furnish'd by
|
||
]the painters, statuaries, or any art, which are purchas'd
|
||
at immense prices; whilst the sight of them in actual life
|
||
is scarce sovereignly tasted by any but the few whom nature
|
||
has endowed with a fire of imagination, warmly pointed by a
|
||
truth of judgment to the spring-head, the originals of
|
||
beauty, of nature's unequall'd composition, above all the
|
||
imitation of art, or the reach of wealth to pay their price.
|
||
|
||
But every thing must have an end. A motion made by
|
||
this angelic youth, in the listlessness of going off sleep,
|
||
replac'd his shirt and the bed-cloaths in a posture that
|
||
shut up that treasure from longer view.
|
||
|
||
I lay down then, and carrying my hands to that part of
|
||
me in which the objects just seen had begun to raise a
|
||
mutiny that prevail'd over the smart of them, my fingers now
|
||
open'd themselves an easy passage; but long I had not time
|
||
to consider the wide difference there, between the maid and
|
||
the now finish'd woman, before Charles wak'd, and turning
|
||
towards me, kindly enquir'd how I had rested? and, scarce
|
||
giving me time to answer, imprinted on my lips one of his
|
||
burning rapture-kisses, which darted a flame to my heart,
|
||
that from thence radiated to every part of me; and present-
|
||
ly, as if he had proudly meant revenge for the survey I had
|
||
smuggled of all his naked beauties, he spurns off the bed-
|
||
cloaths, and trussing up my shift as high as it would go,
|
||
took his turn to feast his eyes on all the gifts nature had
|
||
bestow'd on my person; his busy hands, too, rang'd intemper-
|
||
ately over every part of me. The delicious austerity and
|
||
hardness of my yet unripe budding breasts, the whiteness
|
||
and firmness of my flesh, the freshness and regularity of my
|
||
features, the harmony of my limbs, all seem'd to confirm him
|
||
in his satisfaction with his bargain; but when curious to
|
||
explore the havoc he had made in the centre of his over-
|
||
fierce attack, he not only directed his hands there, but
|
||
with a pillow put under, placed me favourably for his wanton
|
||
purpose of inspection. Then, who can express the fire his
|
||
eyes glisten'd, his hands glow'd with! whilst sighs of plea-
|
||
sure, and tender broken exclamations, were all the praises
|
||
he could utter. By this time his machine, stiffly risen at
|
||
me, gave me to see it in its highest state and bravery. He
|
||
feels it himself, seems pleas'd at its condition, and, smil-
|
||
ing loves and graces, seizes one of my hands, and carries
|
||
it, with a gentle compulsion, to his pride of nature, and
|
||
its richest masterpiece.
|
||
|
||
I, struggling faintly, could not help feeling what I
|
||
could not grasp, a column of the whitest ivory, beautifully
|
||
streak'd with blue veins, and carrying, fully uncapt, a
|
||
head of the liveliest vermilion: no horn could be harder or
|
||
stiffer; yet no velvet more smooth or delicious to the touch.
|
||
Presently he guided my hand lower, to that part in which
|
||
nature and pleasure keep their stores in concert, so aptly
|
||
fasten'd and hung on to the root of their first instrument
|
||
and minister, that not improperly he might be styl'd their
|
||
purse-bearer too: there he made me feel distinctly, through
|
||
their soft cover, the contents, a pair of roundish balls,
|
||
that seem'd to play within, and elude all pressure but the
|
||
tenderest, from without.
|
||
|
||
But now this visit of my soft warm hand in those so
|
||
sensible parts had put every thing into such ungovernable
|
||
fury that, disdaining all further preluding, and taking ad-
|
||
vantage of my commodious posture, he made the storm fall
|
||
where I scarce patiently expected, and where he was sure to
|
||
lay it: presently, then, I felt the stiff insertion between
|
||
the yielding, divided lips of the wound, now open for life;
|
||
where the narrowness no longer put me to intolerable pain,
|
||
and afforded my lover no more difficulty than what height-
|
||
en'd his pleasure, in the strict embrace of that tender,
|
||
warm sheath, round the instrument it was so delicately ad-
|
||
justed to, and which, now cased home, so gorged me with
|
||
pleasure that it perfectly suffocated me and took away my
|
||
breath; then the killing thrusts! the unnumber'd kisses!
|
||
every one of which was a joy inexpressible; and that joy
|
||
lost in a crowd of yet greater blisses! But this was a
|
||
disorder too violent in nature to last long: the vessels,
|
||
so stirr'd and intensely heated, soon boil'd over, and for
|
||
that time put out the fire; meanwhile all this dalliance
|
||
and disport had so far consum'd the morning, that it became
|
||
a kind of necessity to lay breakfast and dinner into one.
|
||
|
||
In our calmer intervals Charles gave the following
|
||
account of himself, every word of which was true. He was
|
||
the only son of a father who, having a small post in the
|
||
revenue, rather over-liv'd his income, and had given this
|
||
young gentleman a very slender education: no profession had
|
||
he bred him up to, but design'd to provide for him in the
|
||
army, by purchasing him an ensign's commission, that is to
|
||
say, provided he could raise the money, or procure it by
|
||
interest, either of which clauses was rather to be wish'd
|
||
than hoped for by him. On no better a plan, however, had
|
||
this improvident father suffer'd this youth, a youth of
|
||
great promise, to run up to the age of manhood, or near it
|
||
at least, in next to idleness; and had, besides, taken no
|
||
sort of pains to give him even the common premonitions
|
||
against the vices of the town, and the dangers of all sorts,
|
||
which wait the unexperienc'd and unwary in it. He liv'd at
|
||
home, and at discretion, with his father, who himself kept a
|
||
mistress; and for the rest, provided Charles did not ask him
|
||
for money, he was indolently kind to him: he might lie out
|
||
when he pleas'd; any excuse would serve, and even his repri-
|
||
mands were so slight that they carried with them rather an
|
||
air of connivance at the fault than any serious control or
|
||
constraint. But, to supply his calls for money, Charles,
|
||
whose mother was dead, had, by her side, a grandmother who
|
||
doted upon him. She had a considerable annuity to live on,
|
||
and very regularly parted with every shilling she could spare
|
||
to this darling of hers, to the no little heart-burn of his
|
||
father; who was vex'd, not that she by this means fed his
|
||
son's extravagance, but that she preferr'd Charles to him-
|
||
self; and we shall too soon see what a fatal turn such a
|
||
mercenary jealousy could operate in the breast of a father.
|
||
|
||
Charles was, however, by the means of his grand-
|
||
mother's lavish fondness, very sufficiently enabled to keep
|
||
a mistress so easily contented as my love made me; and my
|
||
good fortune, for such I must ever call it, threw me in his
|
||
way, in the manner above related, just as he was on the
|
||
look-out for one.
|
||
|
||
As to temper, the even sweetness of it made him seem
|
||
born for domestic happiness: tender, naturally polite, and
|
||
gentle-manner'd; it could never be his fault if ever jars
|
||
or animosities ruffled a calm he was so qualified in every
|
||
way to maintain or restore. Without those great or shining
|
||
qualities that constitute a genius, or are fit to make a
|
||
noise in the world, he had all those humble ones that com-
|
||
pose the softer social merit: plain common sense, set off
|
||
with every grace of modesty and good nature, made him, if
|
||
not admir'd, what is much happier, universally belov'd and
|
||
esteem'd. But, as nothing but the beauties of his person
|
||
had at first attracted my regard and fix'd my passion,
|
||
neither was I then a judge of that internal merit, which I
|
||
had afterward full occasion to discover, and which perhaps,
|
||
in that season of giddiness and levity, would have touch'd
|
||
my heart very little, had it been lodg'd in a person less
|
||
the delight of my eyes and idol of my senses. But to re-
|
||
turn to our situation.
|
||
|
||
After dinner, which we ate a-bed in a most voluptuous
|
||
disorder, Charles got up, and taking a passionate leave of
|
||
me for a few hours, he went to town where, concerting mat-
|
||
ters with a young sharp lawyer, they went together to my
|
||
late venerable mistress's, from whence I had, but the day
|
||
before, made my elopement, and with whom he was determin'd
|
||
to settle accounts in a manner that should cut off all after
|
||
reckonings from that quarter.
|
||
|
||
Accordingly they went; but on the way, the Templar,
|
||
his friend, on thinking over Charles's information, saw
|
||
reason to give their visit another turn, and, instead of
|
||
offering satisfaction, to demand it.
|
||
|
||
On being let in, the girls of the house flock'd round
|
||
Charles, whom they knew, and from the earliness of my
|
||
escape, and their perfect ignorance of his ever having so
|
||
much as seen me, not having the least suspicion of his
|
||
being accessory to my flight, they were, in their way,
|
||
making up to him; and as to his companion, they took him
|
||
probably for a fresh cully. But the Templar soon check'd
|
||
their forwardness, by enquiring for the old lady, with whom,
|
||
he said, with a grave judge-like countenance, that he had
|
||
some business to settle.
|
||
|
||
Madam was immediately sent down for, and the ladies
|
||
being desir'd to clear the room, the lawyer ask'd her,
|
||
severely, if she did know, or had not decoy'd, under pre-
|
||
tence of hiring as a servant, a young girl, just come out
|
||
of the country, called FRANCES or FANNY HILL, describing
|
||
me withal as particularly as he could from Charles's des-
|
||
cription.
|
||
|
||
It is peculiar to vice to tremble at the enquiries of
|
||
justice; and Mrs. Brown, whose conscience was not entirely
|
||
clear upon my account, as knowing as she was of the town,
|
||
as hackney's as she was in bluffing through all the dangers
|
||
of her vocation, could not help being alarm'd at the ques-
|
||
tion, especially when he went on to talk of a Justice of
|
||
peace, Newgate, the Old Bailey, indictments for keeping a
|
||
disorderly house, pillory, carting, and the whole process
|
||
of that nature. She, who, it is likely, imagin'd I had
|
||
lodg'd an information against her house, look'd extremely
|
||
blank, and began to make a thousand protestations and
|
||
excuses. However, to abridge, they brought away trium-
|
||
phantly my box of things, which, had she not been under an
|
||
awe, she might have disputed with them; and not only that;
|
||
but a clearance and discharge of any demands on the house,
|
||
at the expense of no more than a bowl of arrack-punch, the
|
||
treat of which, together with the choice of the house con-
|
||
veniences, was offer'd and not accepted. Charles all the
|
||
time acted the chance-companion of the lawyer, who had
|
||
brought him there, as he knew the house, and appear'd in
|
||
no wise interested in the issue; but he had the collateral
|
||
pleasure of hearing all that I had told him verified, so
|
||
far as the bawd's fears would give her leave to enter into
|
||
my history, which, if one may guess by the composition she
|
||
so readily came into, were not small.
|
||
|
||
Phoebe, my kind tutoress Phoebe, was at that time gone
|
||
out, perhaps in search of me, or their cook'd-up story had
|
||
not, it is probable, pass'd so smoothly.
|
||
|
||
This negotiation had, however, taken up some time,
|
||
which would have appear'd much longer to me, left as I was,
|
||
in a strange house, if the landlady, a motherly sort of a
|
||
woman, to whom Charles had liberally recommended me, had
|
||
not come up and borne me company. We drank tea, and her
|
||
chat help'd to pass away the time very agreeably, since he
|
||
was our theme; but as the evening deepened, and the hour
|
||
set for his return was elaps'd, I could not dispel the
|
||
gloom of impatience and tender fears which gathered upon
|
||
me, and which our timid sex are apt to feel in proportion
|
||
to their love.
|
||
|
||
Long, however, I did not suffer: the sight of him
|
||
over-paid me; and the soft reproach I had prepar'd for him
|
||
expired before it reach'd my lips.
|
||
|
||
I was still a-bed, yet unable to use my legs otherwise
|
||
than awkwardly, and Charles flew to me, catched me in his
|
||
arms, rais'd and extending mine to meet his dear embrace,
|
||
and gives me an account, interrupted by many a sweet paren-
|
||
thesis of kisses, of the success of his measures.
|
||
|
||
I could not help laughing at the fright the old woman
|
||
had been put into, which my ignorance, and indeed my want
|
||
of innocence, had far from prepar'd me for bespeaking. She
|
||
had, it seems, apprehended that I fled for shelter to some
|
||
relation I had recollected in town, on my dislike of their
|
||
ways and proceeding towards me, and that this application
|
||
came from thence; for, as Charles had rightly judg'd not
|
||
one neighbour had, at that still hour, seen the circum-
|
||
stance of my escape into the coach, or, at least, notic'd
|
||
him; neither had any in the house the least hint or clue of
|
||
suspicion of my having spoke to him, much less of my having
|
||
clapt up such a sudden bargain with a perfect stranger:
|
||
thus the greatest improbability is not always what we
|
||
should most mistrust.
|
||
|
||
We supped with all the gaiety of two young giddy crea-
|
||
tures at the top of their desires; and as I had most joy-
|
||
fully given up to Charles the whole charge of my future
|
||
happiness, I thought of nothing beyond the exquisite plea-
|
||
sure of possessing him.
|
||
|
||
He came to bed in due time; and this second night,
|
||
the pain being pretty well over, I tasted, in full draughts,
|
||
all the transports of perfect enjoyment: I swam, I bathed in
|
||
bliss, till both fell fast asleep, through the natural con-
|
||
sequences of satisfied desires, and appeas'd flames; nor did
|
||
we wake but to renew'd raptures.
|
||
|
||
Thus, making the most of love and life, did we stay in
|
||
this lodging in Chelsea about ten days; in which time Charles
|
||
took care to give his excursions from home a favourable gloss,
|
||
and to keep his footing with his fond indulgent grandmother,
|
||
from whom he drew constant and sufficient supplies for the
|
||
charge I was to him, and which was very trifling, in compari-
|
||
sion with his former less regular course of pleasures.
|
||
|
||
Charles remov'd me then to a private ready furnish'd
|
||
lodging in D . . . street, St. James's, where he paid half
|
||
a guinea a week for two rooms and a closet on the second
|
||
floor, which he had been some time looking out for, and was
|
||
more convenient for the frequency of his visits than where
|
||
he had at first plac'd me, in a house which I cannot say but
|
||
I left with regret, as it was infinitely endear'd to me by
|
||
the first possession of my Charles, and the circumstance of
|
||
losing, there, that jewel which can never be twice lost.
|
||
The landlord, however, had no reason to complain of any
|
||
thing, but of a procedure in Charles too liberal not to make
|
||
him regret the loss of us.
|
||
|
||
Arrived at our new lodgings, I remember I thought them
|
||
extremely fine, though ordinary enough, even at that price;
|
||
but, had it been a dungeon that Charles had brought me to,
|
||
his presence would have made it a little Versailles.
|
||
|
||
The landlady, Mrs. Jones, waited on us to our apart-
|
||
ment, and with great volubility of tongue explain'd to us
|
||
all its conveniences--that her own maid should wait on us
|
||
. . . that the best of quality had lodg'd at her house . . .
|
||
that her first floor was let to a foreign secretary of an
|
||
embassy, and his lady . . . that I looked like a very good-
|
||
natur'd lady. . . . At the word lady, I blush'd out of
|
||
flatter'd vanity: this was too strong for a girl of my con-
|
||
dition; for though Charles had had the precaution of dressing
|
||
me in a less tawdry flaunting style than were the cloaths I
|
||
escap'd to him in, and of passing me for his wife, that he
|
||
had secretly married, and kept private (the old story) on
|
||
account of his friends, I dare swear this appear'd extremely
|
||
apocryphal to a woman who knew the town so well as she did;
|
||
but that was the least of her concern. It was impossible to
|
||
be less scruple-ridden than she was; and the advantage of
|
||
letting her rooms being her sole object, the truth itself
|
||
would have far from scandaliz'd her, or broke her bargain.
|
||
|
||
A sketch of her picture, and personal history, will dis-
|
||
pose you to account for the part she is to act in my concerns.
|
||
|
||
She was about forty-six years old, tall, meagre, red-
|
||
hair'd, with one of those trivial ordinary faces you meet
|
||
with everywhere, and go about unheeded and unmentioned. In
|
||
her youth she had been kept by a gentleman who, dying, left
|
||
her forty pounds a year during her life, in consideration of
|
||
a daughter he had by her; which daughter, at the age of
|
||
seven-teen, she sold, for not a very considerable sum nei-
|
||
ther, to a gentleman who was going on Envoy abroad, and took
|
||
his purchase with him, where he us'd her with the utmost
|
||
tenderness, and it is thought, was secretly married to her:
|
||
but had constantly made a point of her not keeping up the
|
||
least correspondence with a mother base enough to make a
|
||
market of her own flesh and blood. However, as she had no
|
||
nature, nor, indeed, any passion but that of money, this
|
||
gave her no further uneasiness, than, as she thereby lost a
|
||
handle of squeezing presents, or other after-advantages, out
|
||
of the bargain. Indifferent then, by nature of constitution,
|
||
to every other pleasure but that of increasing the lump by
|
||
any means whatever, she commenc'd a kind of private procur-
|
||
ess, for which she was not amiss fitted, by her grave decent
|
||
appearance, and sometimes did a job in the match-making way;
|
||
in short, there was nothing that appear'd to her under the
|
||
shape of gain that she would not have undertaken. She knew
|
||
most of the ways of the town, having not only herself been
|
||
upon, but kept up constant intelligences in it, dealing, be-
|
||
sides her practice in promoting a harmony between the two
|
||
sexes, in private pawn-broking and other profitable secrets.
|
||
She rented the house she liv'd in, and made the most of it
|
||
by letting it out in lodgings; though she was worth, at
|
||
least, near three or four thousand pounds, she would not
|
||
allow herself even the necessaries of life, and pinn'd her
|
||
subsistence entirely on what she could squeeze out of her
|
||
lodgers.
|
||
|
||
When she saw such a young pair come under her roof,
|
||
her immediate notions, doubtless, were how she should make
|
||
the most money of us, by every means that money might be
|
||
made, and which, she rightly judged, our situation and
|
||
inexperience would soon beget her occasions of.
|
||
|
||
In this hopeful sanctuary, and under the clutches of
|
||
this harpy, did we pitch our residence. It will not be
|
||
mighty material to you, or very pleasant to me, to enter
|
||
into a detail of all the petty cut-throat ways and means
|
||
with which she used to fleece us; all which Charles indol-
|
||
ently chose to bear with, rather than take the trouble of
|
||
removing, the difference of expense being scarce attended
|
||
to by a young gentleman who had no idea of stint, or even
|
||
of economy, and a raw country girl who knew nothing of the
|
||
matter.
|
||
|
||
Here, however, under the wings of my sovereignly
|
||
belov'd, did I flow the most delicious hours of my life;
|
||
my Charles I had, and, in him, everything my fond heart
|
||
could wish or desire. He carried me to plays, operas,
|
||
masquerades, and every diversion of the town; all of which
|
||
pleas'd me indeed, but pleas'd me infinitely the more for
|
||
his being with me, and explaining everything to me, and
|
||
enjoying, perhaps, the natural impressions of surprize and
|
||
admiration, which such sights, at the first, never fail to
|
||
excite in a country girl, new to the delights of them; but
|
||
to me, they sensibly prov'd the power and full dominion of
|
||
the sole passion of my heart over me, a passion in which
|
||
soul and body were concentre'd, and left me no room for any
|
||
other relish of life but love.
|
||
|
||
As to the men I saw at those places, or at any other,
|
||
they suffer'd so much in the comparison my eyes made of
|
||
them with my all-perfect Adonis, that I had not the infidel-
|
||
ity even of one wandering thought to reproach myself with
|
||
upon his account. He was the universe to me, and all that
|
||
was not him was nothing to me.
|
||
|
||
My love, in fine, was so excessive, that it arriv'd at
|
||
annihilating every suggestion or kindling spark of jealousy;
|
||
for, one idea only tending that way, gave me such exquisite
|
||
torment that my self-love, and dread of worse than death,
|
||
made me for ever renounce and defy it: nor had I, indeed,
|
||
occasion; for, were I to enter here on the recital of sev-
|
||
eral instances wherein Charles sacrific'd to me women of
|
||
greater importance than I dare hint (which, considering his
|
||
form, was no such wonder), I might, indeed, give you full
|
||
proof of his unshaken constancy to me; but would not you
|
||
accuse me of warming up again a feast that my vanity ought
|
||
long ago to have been satisfy'd with?
|
||
|
||
In our cessations from active pleasure, Charles fram'd
|
||
himself one, in instructing me, as far as his own lights
|
||
reach'd, in a great many points of life that I was, in con-
|
||
sequence of my no-education, perfectly ignorant of: nor did
|
||
I suffer one word to fall in vain from the mouth of my love-
|
||
ly teacher: I hung on every syllable he utter'd, and re-
|
||
ceiv'd as oracles, all he said; whilst kisses were all the
|
||
interruption I could not refuse myself the pleasure of ad-
|
||
mitting, from lips that breath'd more than Arabian sweetness.
|
||
|
||
I was in a little time enabled, by the progress I had
|
||
made, to prove the deep regard I had paid to all that he
|
||
had said to me: repeating it to him almost word for word;
|
||
and to shew that I was not entirely the parrot, but that I
|
||
reflected upon, that I enter'd into it, I join'd my own
|
||
comments, and ask'd him questions of explanation.
|
||
|
||
My country accent, and the rusticity of my gait, man-
|
||
ners, and deportment, began now sensibly to wear off, so
|
||
quick was my observation, and so efficacious my desire of
|
||
growing every day worthier of his heart.
|
||
|
||
As to money, though he brought me constantly all he
|
||
receiv'd, it was with difficulty he even got me to give it
|
||
room in my bureau; and what clothes I had, he could prevail
|
||
on me to accept of on no other foot than that of pleasing
|
||
him by the greater neatness in my dress, beyond which I had
|
||
no ambition. I could have made a pleasure of the greatest
|
||
toil, and worked my fingers to the bone, with joy, to have
|
||
supported him: guess, then, if I could harbour any idea of
|
||
being burdensome to him, and this disinterested turn in me
|
||
was so unaffected, so much the dictate of my heart, that
|
||
Charles could not but feel it: and if he did not love me as
|
||
I did him (which was the constant and only matter of sweet
|
||
contention between us), he manag'd so, at least, as to give
|
||
me the satisfaction of believing it impossible for man to
|
||
be more tender, more true, more faithful than he was.
|
||
|
||
Our landlady, Mrs. Jones, came frequently up to my
|
||
apartment, from whence I never stirr'd on any pretext with-
|
||
out Charles; nor was it long before she worm'd out, without
|
||
much art, the secret of our having cheated the church of a
|
||
ceremony, and, in course, of the terms we liv'd together
|
||
upon; a circumstance which far from displeas'd her, con-
|
||
sidering the designs she had upon me, and which, alas! she
|
||
will, too soon, have room to carry into execution. But in
|
||
the mean time, her own experience of life let her see that
|
||
any attempt, however indirect or disguis'd to divert or
|
||
break, at least presently, so strong a cement of hearts as
|
||
ours was, could only end in losing two lodgers, of whom
|
||
she made very competent advantages, if either of us came
|
||
to smoke her commission; for a commission she had from one
|
||
of her customers, either to debauch, or get me away from
|
||
my keeper at any rate.
|
||
|
||
But the barbarity of my fate soon sav'd her the task
|
||
of disuniting us. I had now been eleven months with this
|
||
life of my life, which had passed in one continu'd rapid
|
||
stream of delight: but nothing so violent was ever made to
|
||
last. I was about three months gone with child by him, a
|
||
circumstance which would have added to his tenderness had
|
||
he ever left me room to believe it could receive an addi-
|
||
tion, when the mortal, the unexpected blow of separation
|
||
fell upon us. I shall gallop post over the particulars,
|
||
which I shudder yet to think of, and cannot to this instant
|
||
reconcile myself how, or by what means, I could out-live it.
|
||
|
||
Two life-long days had I linger'd through without
|
||
hearing from him, I who breath'd, who existed but in him,
|
||
and had never yet seen twenty-four hours pass without seeing
|
||
or hearing from him. The third day my impatience was so
|
||
strong, my alarms had been so severe, that I perfectly
|
||
sicken'd with them; and being unable to support the shock
|
||
longer, I sunk upon the bed and ringing for Mrs. Jones, who
|
||
had far from comforted me under my anxieties, she came up.
|
||
I had scarce breath and spirit enough to find words to beg
|
||
of her, if she would save my life, to fall upon some means
|
||
of finding out, instantly, what was become of its only prop
|
||
and comfort. She pity'd me in a way that rather sharpen'd
|
||
my affliction than suspended it, and went out upon this
|
||
commission.
|
||
|
||
Far she had not to go: Charles's father lived but at
|
||
an easy distance, in one of the streets that run into Covent
|
||
Garden. There she went into a publick house, and from
|
||
thence sent for a maid-servant, whose name I had given her,
|
||
as the properest to inform her.
|
||
|
||
The maid readily came, and as readily, when Mrs. Jones
|
||
enquir'd of her what was become of Mr. Charles, or whether
|
||
he was gone out of town, acquainted her with the disposal of
|
||
her master's son, which, the very day after, was no secret
|
||
to the servants. Such sure measures had he taken, for the
|
||
most cruel punishment of his child for having more interest
|
||
with his grandmother than he had, though he made use of a
|
||
pretense, plausible enough, to get rid of him in this secret
|
||
and abrupt manner, for fear her fondness should have inter-
|
||
pos'd a bar to his leaving England, and proceeding on a
|
||
voyage he had concerted for him; which pretext was, that it
|
||
was indispensably necessary to secure a considerable inheri-
|
||
tance that devolv'd to him by the death of a rich merchant
|
||
(his own brother) at one of the factories in the South-Seas,
|
||
of which he had lately receiv'd advice, together with a copy
|
||
of the will.
|
||
|
||
In consequence of which resolution to send away his son,
|
||
he had, unknown to him, made the necessary preparations for
|
||
fitting him out, struck a bargain with the captain of a ship,
|
||
whose punctual execution of his orders he had secured, by his
|
||
interest with his principal owner and patron; and, in short,
|
||
concerted his measures so secretly and effectually that whilst
|
||
his son thought he was going down the river for a few hours,
|
||
he was stopt on board of a ship, debar'd from writing, and
|
||
more strictly watch'd than a State criminal.
|
||
|
||
Thus was the idol of my soul torn from me, and forc'd on
|
||
a long voyage, without taking of one friend, or receiving one
|
||
line of comfort, except a dry explanation and instructions,
|
||
from his father, how to proceed when he should arrive at his
|
||
destin'd port, enclosing, withal, some letters of recommenda-
|
||
tion to a factor there: all these particulars I did not learn
|
||
minutely till some time after.
|
||
|
||
The maid, at the same time, added that she was sure this
|
||
usage of her sweet young master would be the death of his
|
||
grand-mama, as indeed it prov'd true; for the old lady, on
|
||
hearing it, did not survive the news a whole month; and as
|
||
her fortune consisted in an annuity, out of which she had
|
||
laid up no reserves, she left nothing worth mentioning to her
|
||
so fatally envied darling, but absolutely refus'd to see his
|
||
father before she died.
|
||
|
||
When Mrs. Jones return'd and I observ'd her looks, they
|
||
seem'd so unconcern'd, and even near to pleas'd, that I half
|
||
flatter'd myself she was going to set my tortur'd heart at
|
||
ease by bringing me good news; but this, indeed, was a cruel
|
||
delusion of hope: the barbarian, with all the coolness imag-
|
||
inable, stab'd me to the heart, in telling me, succinctly,
|
||
that he was sent away at least on a four years' voyage (here
|
||
she stretch'd maliciously), and that I could not expect, in
|
||
reason, ever to see him again: and all this with such pre-
|
||
nant circumstances that I could not help giving them credit,
|
||
as in general they were, indeed, too true!
|
||
|
||
She had hardly finish'd her report before I fainted
|
||
away and after several successive fits, all the while wild
|
||
and senseless, I miscarried of the dear pledge of my
|
||
Charles's love: but the wretched never die when it is
|
||
fittest they should die, and women are hard-liv'd to a
|
||
proverb.
|
||
|
||
The cruel and interested care taken to recover me sav'd
|
||
an odious life: which, instead of the happiness and joys it
|
||
had overflow'd in, all of a sudden presented no view before
|
||
me of any thing but the depth of misery, horror, and the
|
||
sharpest affliction.
|
||
|
||
Thus I lay six weeks, in the struggles of youth and
|
||
constitution, against the friendly efforts of death, which I
|
||
constantly invoked to my relief and deliverance, but which
|
||
proving too weak for my wish, I recovered at length, tho'
|
||
into a state of stupefaction and despair that threatened me
|
||
with the loss of my senses, and a mad-house.
|
||
|
||
Time, however, that great comforter in ordinary, began
|
||
to assuage the violence of my sufferings, and to numb my
|
||
feeling of them. My health return'd to me, though I still
|
||
retain'd an air of grief, dejection, and languor, which
|
||
taking off the ruddiness of my country complexion, render'd
|
||
it rather more delicate and affecting.
|
||
|
||
The landlady had all this while officiously provided,
|
||
and taken care that I wanted for nothing: and as soon as she
|
||
saw me retriev'd into a condition of answering her purpose,
|
||
one day, after we had dined together, she congratulated me
|
||
on my recovery, the merit of which she took entirely to her-
|
||
self, and all this by way of introduction to a most terrible
|
||
and scurvy epilogue: "You are now," says she, "Miss Fanny,
|
||
tolerably well, and you are very welcome to stay in the lodg-
|
||
ings as long as you please; you see I have ask'd you for
|
||
nothing this long time, but truly I have a call to make up a
|
||
sum of money, which must be answer'd." And, with that, pre-
|
||
sents me with a bill of arrears for rent, diet, apothecary's
|
||
charges, nurse, etc., sum total twenty-three pounds, seven-
|
||
teen and six-pence: towards discharging of which, I had not
|
||
in the world (which she well knew) more than seven guineas,
|
||
left by chance, of my dear Charles's common stock with me.
|
||
At the same time, she desir'd me to tell her what course I
|
||
would take for payment. I burst out into a flood of tears
|
||
and told her my condition; adding that I would sell what few
|
||
cloaths I had, and that, for the rest, I would pay her as
|
||
soon as possible. But my distress, being favourable to her
|
||
views, only stiffen'd her the more.
|
||
|
||
She told me, very coolly, that "she was indeed sorry for
|
||
my misfortunes, but that she must do herself justice, though
|
||
it would go to the very heart of her to send such a tender
|
||
young creature to prison . . ." At the word "prison!" every
|
||
drop of my blood chill'd, and my fright acted so strongly
|
||
upon me, that, turning as pale and faint as a criminal at
|
||
the first sight of his place of execution, I was on the
|
||
point of swooning. My landlady, who wanted only to terrify
|
||
me to a certain point, and not to throw me into a state of
|
||
body inconsistent with her designs upon it, began to soothe
|
||
me again, and told me, in a tone compos'd to more pity and
|
||
gentleness, that it would be my own fault, if she was forc'd
|
||
to proceed to such extremities; but she believ'd there was
|
||
a friend to be found in the world who would make up matters
|
||
to both our satisfactions, and that she would bring him to
|
||
drink tea with us that very afternoon, when she hoped we
|
||
would come to a right understanding in our affairs. To all
|
||
this, not a word of answer; I sat mute, confounded, terrify'd.
|
||
|
||
Mrs. Jones however, judging rightly that it was time to
|
||
strike while the impressions were so strong upon me, left me
|
||
to my self and to all the terrors of an imagination, wounded
|
||
to death by the idea of going to a prison, and, from a prin-
|
||
ciple of self-preservation, snatching at every glimpse of
|
||
redemption from it.
|
||
|
||
In this situation I sat near half an hour, swallow'd up
|
||
in grief and despair, when my landlady came in, and obser-
|
||
ving a death-like dejection in my countenance and still in
|
||
pursuance of her plan, put on a false pity, and bidding me
|
||
be of a good heart: Things, she said, would not be so bad
|
||
as I imagined if I would be but my own friend; and closed
|
||
with telling me she had brought a very honourable gentleman
|
||
to drink tea with me, who would give me the best advice how
|
||
to get rid of all my troubles. Upon which, without waiting
|
||
for a reply, she goes out, and returns with this very hon-
|
||
ourable gentleman, whose very honourable procuress she had
|
||
been, on this as well as other occasions.
|
||
|
||
The gentleman, on his entering the room, made me a very
|
||
civil bow, which I had scarce strength, or presence of mind
|
||
enough to return a curtsy to; when the landlady, taking upon
|
||
her to do all the honours of the first interview (for I had
|
||
never, that I remember'd, seen the gentleman before), sets a
|
||
chair for him, and another for herself. All this while not
|
||
a word on either side; a stupid stare was all the face I
|
||
could put on this strange visit.
|
||
|
||
The tea was made, and the landlady, unwilling, I sup-
|
||
pose, to lose any time, observing my silence and shyness
|
||
before this entire stranger: "Come, Miss Fanny," says she,
|
||
in a coarse familiar style, and tone of authority, "hold up
|
||
your head, child, and do not let sorrow spoil that pretty
|
||
face of yours. What! sorrows are only for a time; come, be
|
||
free, here is a worthy gentleman who has heard of your mis-
|
||
fortunes and is willing to serve you; you must be better
|
||
acquainted with him; do not you now stand upon your punc-
|
||
tilio's, and this and that, but make your market while you
|
||
may."
|
||
|
||
At this so delicate and eloquent harangue, the gentle-
|
||
man, who saw I look'd frighted and amaz'd, and indeed, in-
|
||
capable of answering, took her up for breaking things in so
|
||
abrupt a manner, as rather to shock than incline me to an
|
||
acceptance of the good he intended me; then, addressing
|
||
himself to me, told me he was perfectly acquainted with my
|
||
whole story and every circumstance of my distress, which he
|
||
own'd was a cruel plunge for one of my youth and beauty to
|
||
fall into; that he had long taken a liking to my person,
|
||
for which he appeal'd to Mrs. Jones, there present, but
|
||
finding me so absolutely engag'd to another, he had lost all
|
||
hopes of succeeding till he had heard the sudden reverse of
|
||
fortune that had happen'd to me, on which he had given par-
|
||
ticular orders to my landlady to see that I should want for
|
||
nothing; and that, had he not been forc'd abroad to The
|
||
Hague, on affairs he could not refuse himself to, he would
|
||
himself have attended me during my sickness; that on his
|
||
return, which was but the day before, he had, on learning
|
||
my recovery, desir'd my landlady's good offices to introduce
|
||
him to me, and was as angry, at least, as I was shock'd, at
|
||
the manner in which she had conducted herself towards ob-
|
||
taining him that happiness; but, that to shew me how much he
|
||
disown'd her procedure, and how far he was from taking any
|
||
ungenerous advantage of my situation, and from exacting any
|
||
security for my gratitude, he would before my face, that
|
||
instant, discharge my debt entirely to my landlady and give
|
||
me her receipt in full; after which I should be at liberty
|
||
either to reject or grant his suit, as he was much above
|
||
putting any force upon my inclinations.
|
||
|
||
Whilst he was exposing his sentiments to me, I ventur'd
|
||
just to look up to him, and observed his figure, which was
|
||
that of a very sightly gentleman, well made, about forty,
|
||
drest in a suit of plain cloaths, with a large diamond ring
|
||
on one of his fingers, the lustre of which play'd in my eyes
|
||
as he wav'd his hand in talking, and rais'd my notions of his
|
||
importance. In short, he might pass for what is commonly
|
||
call'd a comely black man, with an air of distinction natural
|
||
to his birth and condition.
|
||
|
||
To all his speeches, however, I answer'd only in tears
|
||
that flow'd plentifully to my relief, and choking up my
|
||
voice, excus'd me from speaking, very luckily, for I should
|
||
not have known what to say.
|
||
|
||
The sight, however, mov'd him, as he afterwards told me,
|
||
irresistibly, and by way of giving me some reason to be less
|
||
powerfully afflicted, he drew out his purse, and calling for
|
||
pen and ink, which the landlady was prepar'd for, paid her
|
||
every farthing of her demand, independent of a liberal gra-
|
||
tification which was to follow unknown to me; and taking a
|
||
receipt in full, very tenderly forc'd me to secure it, by
|
||
guiding my hand, which he had thrust it into, so as to make
|
||
me passively put it into my pocket.
|
||
|
||
Still I continued in a state of stupidity, or melan-
|
||
choly despair, as my spirits could not yet recover from the
|
||
violent shocks they had receiv'd; and the accommodating
|
||
landlady had actually left the room, and me alone with this
|
||
strange gentleman, before I observ'd it, and then I observ'd
|
||
it without alarm, for I was now lifeless and indifferent to
|
||
everything.
|
||
|
||
The gentleman, however, no novice in affairs of this
|
||
sort, drew near me; and under the pretence of comforting me,
|
||
first with his handkerchief dried my tears as they ran down
|
||
my cheeks: presently he ventur'd to kiss me: on my part,
|
||
neither resistance nor compliance. I sat stock-still; and
|
||
now looking on myself as bought by the payment that had been
|
||
transacted before me, I did not care what became of my
|
||
wretched body: and, wanting life, spirits, or courage to
|
||
oppose the least struggle, even that of the modesty of my
|
||
sex, I suffer'd, tamely, whatever the gentleman pleased; who
|
||
proceeding insensibly from freedom to freedom, insinuated
|
||
his hand between my handkerchief and bosom, which he handled
|
||
at discretion: finding thus no repulse, and that every thing
|
||
favour'd, beyond expectation, the completion of his desires,
|
||
he took me in his arms, and bore me, without life or motion,
|
||
to the bed, on which laying me gently down, and having me at
|
||
what advantage he pleas'd, I did not so much as know what he
|
||
was about, till recovering from a trance of lifeless insen-
|
||
sibility, I found him buried in me, whilst I lay passive and
|
||
innocent of the least sensation of pleasure: a death-cold
|
||
corpse could scarce have less life or sense in it. As soon
|
||
as he had thus pacified a passion which had too little re-
|
||
spected the condition I was in, he got off, and after re-
|
||
composing the disorder of my cloaths, employ'd himself with
|
||
the utmost tenderness to calm the transports of remorse and
|
||
madness at myself with which I was seized, too late, I con-
|
||
fess, for having suffer'd on that bed the embraces of an
|
||
utter stranger. I tore my hair, wrung my hands, and beat
|
||
my breast like a mad-woman. But when my new master, for in
|
||
that light I then view'd him, applied himself to appease me,
|
||
as my whole rage was levell'd at myself, no part of which I
|
||
thought myself permitted to aim at him, I begged of him,
|
||
with more submission than anger, to leave me alone that I
|
||
might, at least, enjoy my affliction in quiet. This he
|
||
positively refused, for fear, as he pretended, I should do
|
||
myself a mischief.
|
||
|
||
Violent passions seldom last long, and those of women
|
||
least of any. A dead still calm succeeded this storm, which
|
||
ended in a profuse shower of tears.
|
||
|
||
Had any one, but a few instants before, told me that I
|
||
should have ever known any man but Charles, I would have
|
||
spit in his face; or had I been offer'd infinitely a greater
|
||
sum of money than that I saw paid for me, I had spurn'd the
|
||
proposal in cold blood. But our virtues and our vices
|
||
depend too much on our circumstances; unexpectedly beset as
|
||
I was, betray'd by a mind weakened by a long severe afflic-
|
||
tion, and stunn'd with the terrors of a jail, my defeat
|
||
will appear the more excusable, since I certainly was not
|
||
present at, or a party in any sense, to it. However, as the
|
||
first enjoyment is decisive, and he was now over the bar, I
|
||
thought I had no longer a right to refuse the caresses of
|
||
one that had got that advantage over me, no matter how ob-
|
||
tain'd; conforming myself then to this maxim, I consider'd
|
||
myself as so much in his power that I endur'd his kisses and
|
||
embraces without affecting struggles or anger; not that they,
|
||
as yet, gave me any pleasure, or prevail'd over the aversion
|
||
of my soul to give myself up to any sensation of that sort;
|
||
what I suffer'd, I suffer'd out of a kind of gratitude, and
|
||
as a matter of course after what had pass'd.
|
||
|
||
He was, however, so regardful as not to attempt the re-
|
||
newal of those extremities which had thrown me, just before,
|
||
into such violent agitations; but, now secure of possession,
|
||
contented himself with bringing me to temper by degrees, and
|
||
waiting at the hand of time for those fruits of generosity
|
||
and courtship which he since often reproach'd himself with
|
||
having gather'd much too green, when, yielding to the invi-
|
||
tations of my inability to resist him, and overborne by
|
||
desires, he had wreak'd his passion on a mere lifeless,
|
||
spiritless body dead to all purposes of joy, since, taking
|
||
none, it ought to be suppos'd incapable of giving any. This
|
||
is, however, certain; my heart never thoroughly forgave him
|
||
the manner in which I had fallen to him, although, in point
|
||
of interest, I had reason to be pleas'd that he found, in my
|
||
person, wherewithal to keep him from leaving me as easily as
|
||
he had gained me.
|
||
|
||
The evening was, in the mean time, so far advanc'd, that
|
||
the maid came in to lay the cloth for supper, when I under-
|
||
stood, with joy, that my landlady, whose sight was present
|
||
poison to me, was not to be with us.
|
||
|
||
Presently a neat and elegant supper was introduc'd, and
|
||
a bottle of Burgundy, with the other necessaries, were set on
|
||
a dumb-waiter.
|
||
|
||
The maid quitting the room, the gentleman insisted, with
|
||
a tender warmth, that I should sit up in the elbow chair by
|
||
the fire, and see him eat if I could not be prevailed on to
|
||
eat myself. I obey'd with a heart full of affliction, at the
|
||
comparison it made between those delicious tete-a-tetes with
|
||
my ever dear youth, and this forc'd situation, this new
|
||
awkward scene, impos'd and obtruded on me by cruel necessity.
|
||
|
||
At supper, after a great many arguments used to comfort
|
||
and reconcile me to my fate, he told me that his name was
|
||
H . . . , brother to the Earl of L . . . and that having, by
|
||
the suggestions of my landlady, been led to see me, he had
|
||
found me perfectly to his taste and given her a commission
|
||
to procure me at any rate, and that he had at length suc-
|
||
ceeded, as much to his satisfaction as he passionately
|
||
wished it might be to mine; adding, withal, some flattering
|
||
assurances that I should have no cause to repent my know-
|
||
ledge of him.
|
||
|
||
I had now got down at most half a partridge, and three
|
||
or four glasses of wine, which he compelled me to drink by
|
||
way of restoring nature; but whether there was anything ex-
|
||
traordinary put into the wine, or whether there wanted no
|
||
more to revive the natural warmth of my constitution and
|
||
give fire to the old train, I began no longer to look with
|
||
that constraint, not to say disgust, on Mr. H . . ., which
|
||
I had hitherto done; but, withal, there was not the least
|
||
grain of love mix'd with this softening of my sentiments:
|
||
any other man would have been just the same to me as Mr.
|
||
H . . ., that stood in the same circumstances and had done
|
||
for me, and with me, what he had done.
|
||
|
||
There are not, on earth at least, eternal griefs; mine
|
||
were, if not at an end, at least suspended: my heart, which
|
||
had been so long overloaded with anguish and vexation, began
|
||
to dilate and open to the least gleam of diversion or amuse-
|
||
ment. I wept a little, and my tears reliev'd me; I sigh'd,
|
||
and my sighs seem'd to lighten me of a load that oppress'd
|
||
me; my countenance grew, if not cheerful, at least more
|
||
compos'd and free.
|
||
|
||
Mr. H . . ., who had watched, perhaps brought on this
|
||
change, knew too well not to seize it; he thrust the table
|
||
imperceptibly from between us, and bringing his chair to
|
||
face me, he soon began, after preparing me by all the en-
|
||
dearments of assurances and protestations, to lay hold of
|
||
my hands, to kiss me, and once more to make free with my
|
||
bosom, which, being at full liberty from the disorder of a
|
||
loose dishabille, now panted and throbb'd, less with in-
|
||
dignation than with fear and bashfulness at being used so
|
||
familiarly by still a stranger. But he soon gave me
|
||
greater occasion to exclaim, by stooping down and slipping
|
||
his hand above my garters: thence he strove to regain the
|
||
pass, which he had before found so open, and unguarded: but
|
||
not he could not unlock the twist of my thighs; I gently
|
||
complained, and begg'd him to let me alone; told him I was
|
||
now well. However, as he saw there was more form and cere-
|
||
mony in my resistance than good earnest, he made his condi-
|
||
tions for desisting from pursuing his point that I should
|
||
be put instantly to bed, whilst he gave certain orders to
|
||
the landlady, and that he would return in an hour, when he
|
||
hoped to find me more recondil'd to his passion for me
|
||
than I seem'd at present. I neither assented nor deny'd,
|
||
but my air and manner of receiving this proposal gave him
|
||
to see that I did not think myself enough my own mistress
|
||
to refuse it.
|
||
|
||
Accordingly he went out and left me, when, a minute or
|
||
two after, before I could recover myself into any composure
|
||
for thinking, the maid came in with her mistress's service,
|
||
and a small silver porringer of what she called a bridal
|
||
posset, and desir'd me to eat it as I went to bed, which
|
||
consequently I did, and felt immediately a heat, a fire run
|
||
like a hue-and-cry thro' every part of my body; I burnt,
|
||
I glow'd, and wanted even little of wishing for any man.
|
||
|
||
The maid, as soon as I was lain down, took the candle
|
||
away, and wishing me a good night, went out of the room
|
||
and shut the door after her.
|
||
|
||
She had hardly time to get down-stairs before Mr. H .
|
||
. . open'd my room-door softly, and came in, now undress'd
|
||
in his night-gown and cap, with two lighted wax candles,
|
||
and bolting the door, gave me, tho' I expected him, some
|
||
sort of alarm. He came a tip-toe to the bed-side, and
|
||
said with a gentle whisper: "Pray, my dear, do not be
|
||
startled . . . I will be very tender and kind to you." He
|
||
then hurry'd off his cloaths, and leap'd into bed, having
|
||
given me openings enough, whilst he was stripping, to ob-
|
||
serve his brawny structure, strong-made limbs, and rough
|
||
shaggy breast.
|
||
|
||
The bed shook again when it receiv'd this new load.
|
||
He lay on the outside, where he kept the candles burning,
|
||
no doubt for the satisfaction of ev'ry sense; for as soon
|
||
as he had kiss'd me, he rolled down the bed-cloaths, and
|
||
seemed transported with the view of all my person at full
|
||
length, which he cover'd with a profusion of kisses, spar-
|
||
ing no part of me. Then, being on his knees between my
|
||
legs, he drew up his shirt and bared all his hairy thighs,
|
||
and stiff staring truncheon, red-topt and rooted into a
|
||
thicket of curls, which covered his belly to the navel and
|
||
gave it the air of a flesh brush; and soon I felt it join-
|
||
ing close to mine, when he had drove the nail up to the
|
||
head, and left no partition but the intermediate hair on
|
||
both sides.
|
||
|
||
Part 4
|
||
|
||
I had it now, I felt it now, and, beginning to drive,
|
||
he soon gave nature such a powerful summons down to her
|
||
favourite quarters, that she could no longer refuse repair-
|
||
ing thither; all my animal spirits then rush'd mechanically
|
||
to that center of attraction, and presently, inly warmed,
|
||
and stirr'd as I was beyond bearing, I lost all restraint,
|
||
and yielding to the force of the emotion, gave down, as
|
||
mere woman, those effusions of pleasure, which, in the
|
||
strictness of still faithful love, I could have wished to
|
||
have held up.
|
||
|
||
Yet oh! what an immense difference did I feel between
|
||
this impression of a pleasure merely animal, and struck out
|
||
of the collision of the sexes by a passive bodily effect,
|
||
from that sweet fury, that rage of active delight which
|
||
crowns the enjoyments of a mutual love-passion, where two
|
||
hearts, tenderly and truly united, club to exalt the joy,
|
||
and give it a spirit and soul that bids defiance to that
|
||
end which mere momentary desires generally terminate in,
|
||
when they die of a surfeit of satisfaction!
|
||
|
||
Mr. H . . ., whom no distinctions of that sort seemed
|
||
to disturb, scarce gave himself or me breathing time from
|
||
the last encounter, but, as if he had task'd himself to
|
||
prove that the appearances of his vigour were not signs
|
||
hung out in vain, in a few minutes he was in a condition
|
||
for renewing the onset; to which, preluding with a storm
|
||
of kisses, he drove the same course as before, with
|
||
unabated fervour; and thus, in repeated engagements, kept
|
||
me constantly in exercise till dawn of morning; in all
|
||
which time he made me fully sensible of the virtues of his
|
||
firm texture of limbs, his square shoulders, broad chest,
|
||
compact hard muscles, in short a system of namliness that
|
||
might pass for no bad image of our ancient sturdy barons,
|
||
when they wielded the battle-ax: whose race is now so
|
||
thoroughly refin'd and frittered away into the more deli-
|
||
cate and modern-built frame of our pap-nerv'd softlings,
|
||
who are as pale, as pretty, and almost as masculine as
|
||
their sisters.
|
||
|
||
Mr. H . . ., content, however, with having the day
|
||
break upon his triumphs, delivered me up to the refresh-
|
||
ment of a rest we both wanted, and we soon dropped into a
|
||
profound sleep.
|
||
|
||
Tho' he was some time awake before me, yet did he not
|
||
offer to disturb a repose he had given me so much occasion
|
||
for; but on my first stirring, which was not till past ten
|
||
o'clock, I was oblig'd to endure one more trial of his
|
||
manhood.
|
||
|
||
About eleven, in came Mrs. Jones, with two basins of
|
||
the richest soup, which her experience in these matters had
|
||
mov'd her to prepare. I pass over the fulsome compliments,
|
||
the cant of the decent procuress, with which she saluted us
|
||
both; but tho' my blood rose at the sight of her, I supprest
|
||
my emotions, and gave all my concern to reflections on what
|
||
would be the consequence of this new engagement.
|
||
|
||
But Mr. H . . ., who penetrated my uneasiness, did not
|
||
long suffer me to languish under it. He acquainted me that,
|
||
having taken a solid sincere affection to me, he would begin
|
||
by giving me one leading mark of it by removing me out of a
|
||
house which must, for many reasons, be irksome and disagree-
|
||
able to me, into convenient lodgings, where he would take
|
||
all imaginable care of me; and desiring me not to have any
|
||
explanations with my landlady, or be impatient till he re-
|
||
turned, he dress'd and went out, having left me a purse
|
||
with two and twenty guineas in it, being all he had about
|
||
him, as he expresst it, to keep my pocket till further sup-
|
||
plies.
|
||
|
||
As soon as he was gone, I felt the usual consequence
|
||
of the first launch into vice (for my love-attachment to
|
||
Charles never appear'd to me in that light). I was instant-
|
||
ly borne away down the stream, without making back to the
|
||
shore. My dreadful necessities, my gratitude, and above
|
||
all, to say the plain truth, the dissipation and diversion
|
||
I began to find, in this new acquaintance, from the black
|
||
corroding thoughts my heart had been a prey to ever since
|
||
the absence of my dear Charles, concurr'd to stun all con-
|
||
trary reflections. If I now thought of my first, my only
|
||
charmer, it was still with the tenderness and regret of
|
||
the fondest love, embitter'd with the consciousness that I
|
||
was no longer worthy of him. I could have begg'd my bread
|
||
with him all over the world, but wretch that I was, I had
|
||
neither the virtue nor courage requisite not to outlive my
|
||
separation from him!
|
||
|
||
Yet, had not my heart been thus pre-ingaged, Mr. H .
|
||
. . might probably have been the sole master of it; but
|
||
the place was full, and the force of conjunctures alone had
|
||
made him the possessor of my person; the charms of which
|
||
had, by the bye, been his sole object and passion, and
|
||
were, of course, no foundation for a love either very deli-
|
||
cate or very durable.
|
||
|
||
He did not return till six in the evening to take me
|
||
away to my new lodgings; and my moveables being soon pack'd,
|
||
and convey'd into a hackney-coach, it cost me but little
|
||
regret to take my leave of a landlady whom I thought I had
|
||
so much reason not to be overpleas'd with; and as for her
|
||
part, she made no other difference to my staying or going,
|
||
but what that of the profit created.
|
||
|
||
We soon got to the house appointed for me, which was
|
||
that of a plain tradesman who, on the score of interest,
|
||
was entirely at Mr. H . . .'s devotion, and who let him the
|
||
first floor, very genteelly furnish'd, for two guineas a
|
||
week, of which I was instated mistress, with a maid to
|
||
attend me.
|
||
|
||
He stayed with me that evening, and we had a supper
|
||
from a neighbouring tavern, after which, and a gay glass
|
||
or two, the maid put me to bed. Mr. H . . . soon follow'd,
|
||
and notwithstanding the fatigues of the preceding night, I
|
||
found no quarter nor remission from him: he piqued himself,
|
||
as he told me, on doing the honours of my new apartment.
|
||
|
||
The morning being pretty well advanc'd, we got to
|
||
breakfast; and the ice now broke, my heart, no longer en-
|
||
gross'd by love, began to take ease, and to please itself
|
||
with such trifles as Mr. H . . .'s liberal liking led him
|
||
to make his court to the usual vanity of our sex. Silks,
|
||
laces, ear-rings, pearl-necklace, gold watch, in short, all
|
||
the trinkets and articles of dress were lavishly heap'd
|
||
upon me; the sense of which, if it did not create returns
|
||
of love, forc'd a kind of grateful fondness something like
|
||
love; a distinction it would be spoiling the pleasure of
|
||
nine tenths of the keepers in the town to make, and is, I
|
||
suppose, the very good reason why so few of them ever do
|
||
make it.
|
||
|
||
I was now establish'd the kept mistress in form, well
|
||
lodg'd, with a very sufficient allowance, and lighted up
|
||
with all the lustre of dress.
|
||
|
||
Mr. H . . . continu'd kind and tender to me; yet, with
|
||
all this, I was far from happy; for, besides my regret for
|
||
my dear youth, which, though often suspended or diverted,
|
||
still return'd upon me in certain melancholic, moments with
|
||
redoubled violences, I wanted more society, more dissipation.
|
||
|
||
As to Mr. H . . ., he was so much my superior in every
|
||
sense, that I felt it too much to the disadvantage of the
|
||
gratitude I ow'd him. Thus he gain'd my esteem, though he
|
||
could not raise my taste; I was qualify'd for no sort of
|
||
conversation with him except one sort, and that is a satis-
|
||
faction which leaves tiresome intervals, if not fill'd up
|
||
by love, or other amusements.
|
||
|
||
Mr. H . . ., so experienc'd, so learned in the ways of
|
||
women, numbers of whom had passed through his hands, doubt-
|
||
less soon perceiv'd this uneasiness, and without approving
|
||
or liking me the better for it, had the complaisance to in-
|
||
dulge me.
|
||
|
||
He made suppers at my lodgings, where he brought sev-
|
||
eral companions of his pleasures, with their mistresses;
|
||
and by this means I got into a circle of acquaintance that
|
||
soo strip'd me of all the remains of bashfulness and modesty
|
||
which might be yet left of my country education, and were,
|
||
to a just taste, perhaps the greatest of my charms.
|
||
|
||
We visited one another in form, and mimic'd, as near
|
||
as we could, all the miseries, the follies, and imperti-
|
||
nences of the women of quality, in the round of which they
|
||
trifle away their time, without its ever entering into their
|
||
little heads that on earth there cannot subsist any thing
|
||
more silly, more flat, more insipid and worthless, than,
|
||
generally consider'd, their system of life is: they ought
|
||
to treat the men as their tyrants, indeed! were they to
|
||
condemn them to it.
|
||
|
||
But tho', amongst the kept mistresses (and I was now
|
||
acquainted with a good many, besides some useful matrons,
|
||
who live by their connexions with them), I hardly knew one
|
||
that did not perfectly detest her keeper, and, of course,
|
||
made little or no scruple of any infidelity she could safely
|
||
accomplish, I had still no notion of wronging mine; for,
|
||
besides that no mark of jealousy on his side induced in me
|
||
the desire or gave me the provocation to play him a trick
|
||
of that sort, and that his constant generosity, politeness,
|
||
and tender attentions to please me forc'd a regard to him,
|
||
that without affecting my heart, insur'd him my fidelity, no
|
||
object had yet presented that could overcome the habitual
|
||
liking I had contracted for him; and I was on the eve of
|
||
obtaining, from the movements of his own voluntary generosity,
|
||
a modest provision for life, when an accident happen'd which
|
||
broke all the measures he had resolv'd upon in my favor.
|
||
|
||
I had now liv'd near seven months with Mr. H . . .,
|
||
when one day returning to my lodgings from a visit in the
|
||
neighbourhood, where I us'd to stay longer, I found the
|
||
street door open, and the maid of the house standing at it,
|
||
talking with some of her acquaintances, so that I came in
|
||
without knocking; and, as I passed by, she told me Mr. H .
|
||
. . was above. I stept up-stairs into my own bed-chamber,
|
||
with no other thought than of pulling off my hat, etc., and
|
||
then to wait upon him in the dining room, into which my
|
||
bed-chamber had a door, as is common enough. Whilst I was
|
||
untying my hat-strings, I fancied I heard my maid Hannah's
|
||
voice and a sort of tussle, which raising my curiosity, I
|
||
stole softly to the door, where a knot in the wood had been
|
||
slipt out and afforded a very commanding peep-hole to the
|
||
scene then in agitation, the actors of which had been too
|
||
earnestly employ'd to hear my opening my own door, from the
|
||
landing-place of the stairs, into my bed-chamber.
|
||
|
||
The first sight that struck me was Mr. H . . . pulling
|
||
and hauling this coarse country strammel towards a couch
|
||
that stood in a corner of the dining room; to which the girl
|
||
made only a sort of awkward boidening resistance, crying out
|
||
so loud, that I, who listened at the door, could scarce hear
|
||
her: "Pray sir, don't . . . , let me alone . . . I am not
|
||
for your turn . . . You cannot, sure, demean yourself with
|
||
such a poor body as I . . . Lord! Sir, my mistress may come
|
||
home . . . I must not indeed . . . I will cry out . . ."
|
||
All of which did not hinder her from insensibly suffering
|
||
herself to be brought to the foot of the couch, upon which
|
||
a push of no mighty violence serv'd to give her a very easy
|
||
fall, and my gentleman having got up his hands to the
|
||
strong-hold of her VIRTUE, she, no doubt, thought it was
|
||
time to give up the argument, and that all further de-
|
||
fense would be in vain: and he, throwing her petticoats over
|
||
her face, which was now as red as scarlet, discover'd a pair
|
||
of stout, plump, substantial thighs, and tolerably white; he
|
||
mounted them round his hips, and coming out with his drawn
|
||
weapon, stuck it in the cloven spot, where he seem'd to find
|
||
a less difficult entrance than perhaps he had flatter'd him-
|
||
self with (for, by the way, this blouze had left her place
|
||
in the country, for a bastard), and, indeed, all his motions
|
||
shew'd he was lodg'd pretty much at large. After he had
|
||
done, his DEAREE gets up, drops her petticoats down, and
|
||
smooths her apron and handkerchief. Mr. H . . . look'd a
|
||
little silly, and taking out some money, gave it her, with
|
||
an air indifferent enough, bidding her be a good girl, and
|
||
say nothing.
|
||
|
||
Had I lov'd this man, it was not in nature for me to
|
||
have had patience to see the whole scene through: I should
|
||
have broke in and play'd the jealous princess with a ven-
|
||
geance. But that was not the case, my pride alone was hurt,
|
||
my heart not, and I could easier win upon myself to see how
|
||
far he would go, till I had no uncertainty upon my conscience.
|
||
|
||
The least delicate of all affairs of this sort being
|
||
now over, I retir'd softly into my closet, where I began to
|
||
consider what I should do. My first scheme, naturally, was
|
||
to rush in and upbraid them; this, indeed, flatter'd my
|
||
present emotions and vexations, as it would have given im-
|
||
mediate vent to them; but, on second thoughts, not being so
|
||
clear as to the consequences to be apprehended from such a
|
||
step, I began to doubt whether it was not better to dissemble
|
||
my discovery till a safer season, when Mr. H . . . should
|
||
have perfected the settlement he had made overtures to me of,
|
||
and which I was not to think such a violent explanation, as
|
||
I was indeed not equal to the management of, could possibly
|
||
forward, and might destroy. On the other hand, the provo-
|
||
cation seem'd too gross, too flagrant, not to give me some
|
||
thoughts of revenge; the very start of which idea restor'd
|
||
me to perfect composure; and delighted as I was with the
|
||
confus'd plan of it in my head, I was easily mistress enough
|
||
of myself to support the part of ignorance I had prescrib'd
|
||
to myself; and as all this circle of reflections was in-
|
||
stantly over, I stole a tip-toe to the passage door, and
|
||
opening it with a noise, pass'd for having that moment come
|
||
home; and after a short pause, as if to pull off my things,
|
||
I opened the door into the dining room, where I found the
|
||
dowdy blowing the fire, and my faithful shepherd walking
|
||
about the room and whistling, as cool and unconcern'd as if
|
||
nothing had happened. I think, however, he had not much to
|
||
brag of having out-dissembled me: for I kept up, nobly, the
|
||
character of our sex for art, and went up to him with the
|
||
same air of frankness as I had ever receiv'd him. He stayed
|
||
but a little while, made some excuse for not being able to
|
||
stay the evening with me, and went out.
|
||
|
||
As for the wench, she was now spoil'd, at least for my
|
||
servant; and scarce eight and forty hours were gone round,
|
||
before her insolence, on what had pass'd between Mr. H . . .
|
||
and her, gave me so fair an occasion to turn her away, at a
|
||
minute's warning, that not to have done it would have been
|
||
the wonder: so that he could neither disapprove it nor find
|
||
in it the least reason to suspect my original motive. What
|
||
became of her afterwards, I know not; but generous as Mr.
|
||
H . . . was, he undoubtedly made her amends: though, I dare
|
||
answer, that he kept up no farther commerce with her of that
|
||
sort; as his stooping to such a coarse morsel was only a
|
||
sudden sally of lust, on seeing a wholesome-looking, buxom
|
||
country-wench, and no more strange than hunger, or even a
|
||
whimsical appetite's making a fling meal of neck-beef, for
|
||
change of diet.
|
||
|
||
Had I consider'd this escapade of Mr. H . . . in no
|
||
more than that light and contented myself with turning away
|
||
the wench, I had thought and acted right; but, flush'd as I
|
||
was with imaginary wrongs, I should have held Mr. H . . .
|
||
to have been cheaply off, if I had not push'd my revenge
|
||
farther, and repaid him, as exactly as I could for the soul
|
||
of me, in the same coin.
|
||
|
||
Nor was this worthy act of justice long delay'd: I had
|
||
it too much at heart. Mr. H . . . had, about a fortnight
|
||
before, taken into his service a tenant's son, just come out
|
||
of the country, a very handsome young lad scarce turn'd of
|
||
nineteen, fresh as a rose, well shap'd and clever limb'd: in
|
||
short, a very good excuse for any woman's liking, even tho'
|
||
revenge had been out of the question; any woman, I say, who
|
||
was disprejudic'd, and had wit and spirit enough to prefer a
|
||
point of pleasure to a point of pride.
|
||
|
||
Mr. H . . . had clap'd a livery upon him; and his chief
|
||
employ was, after being shewn my lodgings, to bring and
|
||
carry letters or messages between his master and me; and as
|
||
the situation of all kept ladies is not the fittest to
|
||
inspire respect, even to the meanest of mankind, and, perhaps,
|
||
less of it from the most ignorant, I could not help observing
|
||
that this lad, who was, I suppose, acquainted with my relation
|
||
to his master by his fellow-servants, used to eye me in that
|
||
bashful confus'd way, more expressive, more moving and readier
|
||
catch'd at by our sex, than any other declarations whatever:
|
||
my figure had, it seems, struck him, and modest and innocent
|
||
as he was, he did not himself know that the pleasure he took
|
||
in looking at me was love, or desire; but his eyes, naturally
|
||
wanton, and now enflam'd with passion, spoke a great deal
|
||
more than he durst have imagin'd they did. Hitherto, indeed,
|
||
I had only taken notice of the comeliness of the youth, but
|
||
without the least design: my pride alone would have guarded
|
||
me from a thought that way, had not Mr. H . . .'s condescen-
|
||
sion with my maid, where there was not half the temptation in
|
||
point of person, set me a dangerous example; but now I began
|
||
to look on this stripling as every way a delicious instrument
|
||
of my design'd retaliation upon Mr. H . . . of an obligation
|
||
for which I should have made a conscience to die in his debt.
|
||
|
||
In order then to pave the way for the accomplishment of
|
||
my scheme, for two or three times that the young fellow came
|
||
to me with messages, I manag'd so, as without affectation to
|
||
have him admitted to my bed-side, or brought to me at my
|
||
toilet, where I was dressing; and by carelessly shewing or
|
||
letting him see, as if without meaning or design, sometimes
|
||
my bosom rather more bare than it should be; sometimes my
|
||
hair, of which I had a very fine head, in the natural flow
|
||
of it while combing; sometimes a neat leg, that had unfor-
|
||
tunately slipt its garter, which I made no scruple of tying
|
||
before him, easily gave him the impressions favourable to
|
||
my purpose, which I could perceive to sparkle in his eyes,
|
||
and glow in his cheeks: then certain slight squeezes by the
|
||
hand, as I took letters from him, did his business compleatly.
|
||
|
||
When I saw him thus mov'd, and fired for my purpose, I
|
||
inflam'd him yet more, by asking him several leading ques-
|
||
tions, such as had he a mistress? . . . was she prettier than
|
||
me? . . . could he love such a one as I was? . . . and the
|
||
like; to all which the blushing simpleton answer'd to my wish,
|
||
in a strain of perfect nature, perfect undebauch'd innocence,
|
||
but with all the awkwardness and simplicity of country-
|
||
breeding.
|
||
|
||
When I thought I had sufficiently ripen'd him for the
|
||
laudable point I had in view, one day that I expected him
|
||
at a particular hour, I took care to have the coast clear
|
||
for the reception I design'd him; and, as I laid it, he
|
||
came to the dining-room door, tapped at it, and, on my bid-
|
||
ding him come in, he did so, and shut the door after him.
|
||
I desir'd him, then, to bolt it on the inside, pretending
|
||
it would not otherwise keep shut.
|
||
|
||
I was then lying at length upon that very couch, the
|
||
scene of Mr. H . . .'s polite joys, in an undress which
|
||
was with all the art of negligence flowing loose, and in a
|
||
most tempting disorder: no stay, no hoop . . . no incum-
|
||
brance whatever. On the other hand, he stood at a little
|
||
distance, that gave me a full view of a fine featur'd,
|
||
shapely, healthy country lad, breathing the sweets of fresh
|
||
blooming youth; his hair, which was of a perfect shining
|
||
black, play'd to his face in natural side-curls, and was set
|
||
out with a smart tuck-up behind; new buckskin breeches, that,
|
||
clipping close, shew'd the shape of a plump, well made thigh;
|
||
white stockings, garter-lac'd livery, shoulder knot, alto-
|
||
gether compos'd a figure in which the beauties of pure flesh
|
||
and blood appeared under no disgrace form the lowness of a
|
||
dress, to which a certain spruce neatness seems peculiarly
|
||
fitted.
|
||
|
||
I bid him come towards me and give me his letter, at
|
||
the same time throwing down, carelessly, a book I had in my
|
||
hands. He colour'd, and came within reach of delivering me
|
||
the letter, which he held out, awkwardly enough, for me to
|
||
take, with his eyes riveted on my bosom, which was, through
|
||
the design'd disorder of my handkerchief, sufficiently bare,
|
||
and rather shaded than hid.
|
||
|
||
I, smiling in his face, took the letter, and immedi-
|
||
ately catching gently hold of his shirt sleeve, drew him
|
||
towards me, blushing, and almost trembling; for surely his
|
||
extreme bashfulness, and utter inexperience, call'd for, at
|
||
least, all the advances to encourage him: his body was now
|
||
conveniently inclin'd towards me, and just softly chucking
|
||
his smooth beardless chin, I asked him if he was afraid of
|
||
a lady? . . ., and, with that took, and carrying his hand
|
||
to my breasts, I prest it tenderly to them. They were now
|
||
finely furnish'd, and rais'd in flesh, so that, panting
|
||
with desire, they rose and fell, in quick heaves, under his
|
||
touch: at this, the boy's eyes began to lighten with all
|
||
the fires of inflam'd nature, and his cheeks flush'd with a
|
||
deep scarlet: tongue-tied with joy, rapture, and bashful-
|
||
ness, he could not speak, but then his looks, his emotion,
|
||
sufficiently satisfy'd me that my train had taken, and that
|
||
I had no disappointment to fear.
|
||
|
||
My lips, which I threw in his way, so as that he could
|
||
not escape kissing them, fix'd, fired, and embolden'd him:
|
||
and now, glancing my eyes towards that part of his dress
|
||
which cover'd the essential object of enjoyment, I plainly
|
||
discover'd the swell and commotion there; and as I was now
|
||
too far advanc'd to stop in so fair a way, and was indeed no
|
||
longer able to contain myself, or wait the slower progress
|
||
of his maiden bashfulness (for such it seem'd, and really
|
||
was), I stole my hand upon his thighs, down one of which I
|
||
could both see and feel a stiff hard body, confin'd by his
|
||
breeches, that my fingers could discover no end to. Curious
|
||
then, and eager to unfold so alarming a mystery, playing, as
|
||
it were, with his buttons, which were bursting ripe from the
|
||
active force within, those of his waistband and fore-flap
|
||
flew open at a touch, when out IT started; and now, dis-
|
||
engag'd from the shirt, I saw, with wonder and surprise,
|
||
what? not the play-thing of a boy, not the weapon of a man,
|
||
but a maypole of so enormous a standard, that had propor-
|
||
tions been observ'd, it must have belong'd to a young giant.
|
||
Its prodigious size made me shrink again; yet I could not,
|
||
without pleasure, behold, and even ventur'd to feel, such a
|
||
length, such a breadth of animated ivory! perfectly well
|
||
turn'd and fashion'd, the proud stiffness of which distended
|
||
its skin, whose smooth polish and velvet softness might vie
|
||
with that of the most delicate of our sex, and whose exqui-
|
||
site whiteness was not a little set off by a sprout of black
|
||
curling hair round the root, through the jetty sprigs of
|
||
which the fair skin shew'd as in a fine evening you may have
|
||
remark'd the clear light ether throught the branchwork of
|
||
distant trees over-topping the summit of a hill: then the
|
||
broad and blueish-casted incarnate of the head, and blue
|
||
serpentines of its veins, altogether compos'd the most
|
||
striking assemblage of figure and colours in nature. In
|
||
short, it stood an object of terror and delight.
|
||
|
||
But what was yet more surprising, the owner of this
|
||
natural curiosity, through the want of occasions in the
|
||
strictness of his home-breeding, and the little time he had
|
||
been in town not having afforded him one, was hitherto an
|
||
absolute stranger, in practice at least, to the use of all
|
||
that manhood he was so nobly stock'd with; and it now fell
|
||
to my lot ot stand his first trial of it, if I could resolve
|
||
to run the risks of its disproportion to that tender part
|
||
of me, which such an oversiz'd machine was very fit to lay
|
||
in ruins.
|
||
|
||
But it was now of the latest to deliberate; for, by
|
||
this time, the young fellow, overheated with the present
|
||
objects, and too high mettled to be longer curb'd in by
|
||
that modesty and awe which had hitherto restrain'd him,
|
||
ventur'd, under the stronger impulse and instructive promp-
|
||
tership of nature alone, to slip his hands, trembling with
|
||
eager impetuous desires, under my petticoats; and seeing,
|
||
I suppose, nothing extremely severe in my looks to stop or
|
||
dash him, he feels out, and seizes, gently, the center-spot
|
||
of his ardours. Oh then! the fiery touch of his fingers
|
||
determines me, and my fears melting away before the glowing
|
||
intolerable heat, my thighs disclose of themselves, and
|
||
yield all liberty to his hand: and now, a favourable move-
|
||
ment giving my petticoats a toss, the avenue lay too fair,
|
||
too open to be miss'd. He is now upon me: I had placed
|
||
myself with a jet under him, as commodious and open as
|
||
possible to his attempts, which were untoward enough, for
|
||
his machine, meeting with no inlet, bore and batter'd
|
||
stiffly against me in random pushes, now above, now below,
|
||
now beside his point; till, burning with impatience from
|
||
its irritating touches, I guided gently, with my hand,
|
||
this furious engine to where my young novice was now to be
|
||
taught his first lesson of pleasure. Thus he nick'd, at
|
||
length, the warm and insufficient orifice; but he was made
|
||
to find no breach impracticable, and mine, tho' so often
|
||
enter'd, was still far from wide enough to take him easily
|
||
in.
|
||
|
||
By my direction, however, the head of his unwieldy
|
||
machine was so critically pointed that, feeling him fore-
|
||
right against the tender opening, a favourable motion from
|
||
me met his timely thrust, by which the lips of it, strenu-
|
||
ously dilated, gave way to his thus assisted impetuosity,
|
||
so that we might both feel that he had gain'd a lodgement.
|
||
Pursuing then his point, he soon, by violent, and, to me,
|
||
most painful piercing thrusts, wedges himself at length so
|
||
far in, as to be now tolerably secure of his entrance: here
|
||
he stuck, and I now felt such a mixture of pleasure and
|
||
pain, as there is no giving a definition of. I dreaded
|
||
alike his splitting me farther up, or his withdrawing; I
|
||
could not bear either to keep or part with him. The sense
|
||
of pain however prevailing, from his prodigious size and
|
||
stiffness, acting upon me in those continued rapid thrusts,
|
||
with which he furiously pursu'd his penetration, made me
|
||
cry out gently: "Oh! my dear, you hurt me!" This was
|
||
enough to check the tender respectful boy even in his mid-
|
||
career; and he immediately drew out the sweet cause of my
|
||
complaint, whilst his eyes eloquently express'd, at once,
|
||
his grief for hurting me, and his reluctance at dislodging
|
||
from quarters of which the warmth and closeness had given
|
||
him a gust of pleasure that he was now desire-mad to satisfy,
|
||
and yet too much a novice not to be afraid of my withholding
|
||
his relief, on account ot the pain he had put me to.
|
||
|
||
But I was, myself, far from being pleas'd with his
|
||
having too much regarded my tender exclaims; for now, more
|
||
and more fired with the object before me, as it still stood
|
||
with the fiercest erection, unbonnetted, and displaying its
|
||
broad bermilion head, I first gave the youth a re-encourag-
|
||
ing kiss, which he repaid me with a fervour that seem'd at
|
||
once to thank me, and bribe my farther compliance; and soon
|
||
replac'd myself in a posture to receive, at all risks, the
|
||
renew'd invasion, which he did not delay an instant: for,
|
||
being presently remounted, I once more felt the smooth hard
|
||
gristle forcing an entrance, which he achiev'd rather easier
|
||
than before. Pain'd, however, as I was, with his efforts of
|
||
gaining a complete admission, which he was so regardful as
|
||
to manage by gentle degrees, I took care not to complain.
|
||
In the meantime, the soft strait passage gradually loosens,
|
||
yields, and, stretch'd to its utmost bearing, by the stiff,
|
||
thick, indriven engine, sensible, at once, to the ravishing
|
||
pleasure of the feel and the pain of the distension, let him
|
||
in about half way, when all the most nervous activity he now
|
||
exerted, to further his penetration, gain'd him not an inch
|
||
of his purpose: for, whilst he hesitated there, the crisis
|
||
of pleasure overtook him, and the close compressure of the
|
||
warm surrounding fold drew from him the extatic gush, even
|
||
before mine was ready to meet it, kept up by the pain I had
|
||
endur'd in the course ot the engagement, from the insuffer-
|
||
able size of his weapon, tho' it was not as yet in above
|
||
half its length.
|
||
|
||
I expected then, but without wishing it, that he would
|
||
draw, but was pleasantly disappointed: for he was not to be
|
||
let off so. The well breath'd youth, hot-mettled, and
|
||
flush with genial juices, was now fairly in for making me
|
||
know my driver. As soon, then, as he had made a short
|
||
pause, waking, as it were, out of the trance of pleasure
|
||
(in which every sense seem'd lost for a while, whilst, with
|
||
his eyes shut, and short quick breathing, he had yielded
|
||
down his maiden tribute), he still kept his post, yet unsated
|
||
with enjoyment, and solacing in these so new delights; till
|
||
his stiffness, which had scarce perceptibly remitted, being
|
||
thoroughly recovered to him, who had not once unsheath'd, he
|
||
proceeded afresh to cleave and open to himself an entire
|
||
entry into me, which was not a little made easy to him by
|
||
the balsamic injection with which he had just plentifully
|
||
moisten'd the whole internals of the passage. Redoubling,
|
||
then, the active energy of his thrusts, favoured by the
|
||
fervid appetite of my motions, the soft oiled wards can no
|
||
longer stand so effectual a picklock, but yield, and open
|
||
him an entrance. And now, with conspiring nature, and my
|
||
industry, strong to aid him, he pierces, penetrates, and at
|
||
length, winning his way inch by inch, gets entirely in, and
|
||
finally mighty thrust sheaths it up to the guard; on the in-
|
||
formation of which, from the close jointure of our bodies
|
||
(insomuch that the hair on both sides perfectly interweav'd
|
||
and incircl'd together), the eyes of the transported youth
|
||
sparkl'd with more joyous fires, and all his looks and mo-
|
||
tions acknowledged excess of pleasure, which I now began to
|
||
share, for I felt him in my very vitals! I was quite sick
|
||
with delight! stir'd beyond bearing with its furious agita-
|
||
tions within me, and gorged and cramm'd, even to surfeit.
|
||
Thus I lay gasping, panting under him, till his broken
|
||
breathings, faltering accents, eyes twinkling with humid
|
||
fires, lunges more furious, and an increased stiffness,
|
||
gave me to hail the approaches of the second period: it came
|
||
. . . and the sweet youth, overpower'd with the extasy, died
|
||
away in my arms, melting in a flood that shot in genial
|
||
warmth into the innermost recesses of my body; every conduit
|
||
of which, dedicated to that pleasure, was on flow to mix with
|
||
it. Thus we continued for some instants, lost, breathless,
|
||
senseless of every thing, and in every part but those fav-
|
||
ourite ones of nature, in which all that we enjoyed of life
|
||
and sensation was now totally concentre'd.
|
||
|
||
When our mutual trance was a little over, and the young
|
||
fellow had withdrawn that delicious stretcher, with which he
|
||
had most plentifully drowned all thoughts of revenge in the
|
||
sense of actual pleasure, the widen'd wounded passage refunded
|
||
a stream of pearly liquids, which flowed down my thighs, mixed
|
||
with streaks of blood, the marks of the ravage of that montrous
|
||
machine of his, which had now triumph'd over a kind of second
|
||
maidenhead. I stole, however, my handkerchief to those parts,
|
||
and wip'd them as dry as I could, whilst he was re-adjusting
|
||
and buttoning up.
|
||
|
||
I made him now sit down by me, and as he had gather'd
|
||
courage from such extreme intimacy, he gave me an after-
|
||
course of pleasure, in a natural burst of tender gratitude
|
||
and joy, at the new scenes of bliss I had opened to him:
|
||
scenes positively new, as he had never before had the least
|
||
acquaintance with that mysterious mark, the cloven stamp of
|
||
female distinction, tho' nobody better qualify'd than he to
|
||
penetrate into its deepest recesses, or do it nobler justice.
|
||
But when, by certain motions, certain unquietnesses of his
|
||
hands, that wandered not without design, I found he lan-
|
||
guish'd for satisfying a curiosity, natural enough, to view
|
||
and handle those parts which attract and concentre the
|
||
warmest force of imagination, charmed as I was to have any
|
||
occasion of obliging and humouring his young desires, I
|
||
suffer'd him to proceed as he pleased, without check or
|
||
control, to the satisfaction of them.
|
||
|
||
Easily, then, reading in my eyes the full permission of
|
||
myself to all his wishes, he scarce pleased himself more
|
||
than me when, having insinuated his hand under my petticoat
|
||
and shift, he presently removed those bars to the sight by
|
||
slyly lifting them upwards, under favour of a thousand
|
||
kisses, which he thought, perhaps, necessary to divert my
|
||
attention from what he was about. All my drapery being now
|
||
roll'd up to my waist, I threw myself into such a posture
|
||
upon the couch, as gave up to him, in full view, the whole
|
||
region of delight, and all the luxurious landscape round it.
|
||
The transported youth devour'd every thing with his eyes,
|
||
and try'd, with his fingers, to lay more open to his sight
|
||
the secrets of that dark and delicious deep: he opens the
|
||
folding lips, the softness of which, yielding entry to any
|
||
thing of a hard body, close round it, and oppose the sight:
|
||
and feeling further, meets with, and wonders at, a soft
|
||
fleshy excrescence, which, limber and relaxed after the late
|
||
enjoyment, now grew, under the touch and examination of his
|
||
fiery fingers, more and more stiff and considerable, till
|
||
the titillating ardours of that so sensible part made me
|
||
sigh, as if he had hurt me; on which he withdrew his curious
|
||
probing fingers, asking me pardon, as it were, in a kiss
|
||
that rather increased the flame there.
|
||
|
||
Novelty ever makes the strongest impressions, and in
|
||
pleasures, especially; no wonder, then, that he was swallowed
|
||
up in raptures of admiration of things so interesting by
|
||
their nature, and now seen and handled for the first time.
|
||
On my part, I was richly overpaid for the pleasure I gave
|
||
him, in that of examining the power of those objects thus
|
||
abandon'd to him, naked and free to his loosest wish, over
|
||
the artless, natural stripling: his eyes streaming fire, his
|
||
cheeks glowing with a florid red, his fervid frequent sighs,
|
||
whilst his hands convulsively squeez'd, opened, pressed to-
|
||
gether again the lips and sides of that deep flesh wound, or
|
||
gently twitched the overgrowing moss; and all proclaimed the
|
||
excess, the riot of joys, in having his wantonness thus
|
||
humour'd. But he did not long abuse my patience, for the
|
||
objects before him had now put him by all his, and, coming
|
||
out with that formidable machine of his, he lets the fury
|
||
loose, and pointing it directly to the pouting-lipt mouth,
|
||
that bid him sweet defiance in dumb-shew, squeezes in the
|
||
head, and, driving with refreshed rage, breaks in, and plugs
|
||
up the whole passage of that soft pleasure-conduit, where
|
||
he makes all shake again, and put, once more, all within me
|
||
into such an uproar, as nothing could still but a fresh in-
|
||
undation from the very engine of those flames, as well as
|
||
from all the springs with which nature floats that reservoir
|
||
of joy, when risen to its flood-mark.
|
||
|
||
I was now so bruised, so batter'd, so spent with this
|
||
over-match, that I could hardly stir, or raise myself, but
|
||
lay palpitating, till the ferment of my sense subsiding by
|
||
degrees, and the hour striking at which I was oblig'd to
|
||
dispatch my young man, I tenderly advised him of the neces-
|
||
sity there was for parting; which I felt as much displeasure
|
||
at as he could do, who seemed eagerly disposed to keep the
|
||
field, and to enter on a fresh action. But the danger was
|
||
too great, and after some hearty kisses of leave, and recom-
|
||
mendations of secrecy and discretion, I forc'd myself to
|
||
send him away, not without assurances of seeing him again,
|
||
to the same purpose, as soon as possible, and thrust a guinea
|
||
into his hands: not more, lest, being too flush of money, a
|
||
suspicion or discovery might arise from thence, having every
|
||
thing to fear from the dangerous indiscretion of that age in
|
||
which young fellows would be too irresistible, too charming,
|
||
if we had not that terrible fault to guard against.
|
||
|
||
Giddy and intoxicated as I was with such satiating
|
||
draughts of pleasure, I still lay on the couch, supinely
|
||
stretched out, in a delicious languor diffus'd over all my
|
||
limbs, hugging myself for being thus revenged to my heart's
|
||
content, and that in a manner so precisely alike, and on the
|
||
identical spot in which I had received the supposed injury.
|
||
No reflections on the consequences ever once perplex'd me,
|
||
nor did I make myself one single reproach for having, by
|
||
this step, completely entered myself of a profession more
|
||
decry'd than disused. I should have held it ingratitude to
|
||
the pleasure I had received to have repented of it; and
|
||
since I was now over the bar, I thought, by plunging over
|
||
head and ears into the stream I was hurried away by, to
|
||
drown all sense of shame or reflection.
|
||
|
||
Whilst I was thus making these laudable dispositions,
|
||
and whispering to myself a kind of tacit vow of inconti-
|
||
nency, enters Mr. H . . . The consciousness of what I had
|
||
been doing deepen'd yet the glowing of my cheeks, flushed
|
||
with the warmth of the late action, which, joined to the
|
||
piquant air of my dishabille, drew from Mr. H . . . a com-
|
||
pliment on my looks, which he was proceeding to back the
|
||
sincerity of with proofs, and that with so brisk an action
|
||
as made me tremble for fear of a discovery from the condi-
|
||
tion of those parts were left in from their late severe
|
||
handling: the orifice dilated and inflamed, the lips swollen
|
||
with their uncommon distension, the ringlets press down,
|
||
crushed and uncurl'd with the over-flowing moisture that
|
||
had wet every thing round it; in short, the different feel
|
||
and state of things would hardly have passed upon one of Mr.
|
||
H . . .'s nicety and experience unaccounted for but by the
|
||
real cause. But here the woman saved me: I pretended a
|
||
violent disorder of my head, and a feverish heat, that in-
|
||
disposed me too much to receive his embraces. He gave in to
|
||
this, and good-naturedly desisted. Soon after, an old lady
|
||
coming in made a third, very a-propos for the confusion I
|
||
was in, and Mr. H . . ., after bidding me take care of my-
|
||
self, and recommending me to my repose, left me much at ease
|
||
and reliev'd by his absence.
|
||
|
||
In the close of the evening, I took care to have pre-
|
||
par'd for me a warm bath of aromatick and sweet herbs; in
|
||
which having fully laved and solaced myself, I came out
|
||
voluptuously refresh'd in body and spirit.
|
||
|
||
The next morning, waking pretty early, after a night's
|
||
perfect rest and composure, it was not without some dread
|
||
and uneasiness that I thought of what innovation that ten-
|
||
der, soft system of mine might have sustained from the shock
|
||
of a machine so sized for its destruction.
|
||
|
||
Struck with this apprehension, I scarce dared to carry
|
||
my hand thither, to inform myself of the state and posture
|
||
of things.
|
||
|
||
But I was soon agreeably cur'd of my fears.
|
||
|
||
The silky hair that covered round the borders, now
|
||
smooth'd and re-pruned, had resumed its wonted curl and
|
||
trimness; the fleshy pouting lips that had stood the brunt
|
||
of the engagement, were no longer swollen or moisture-
|
||
drenched; and neither they, nor the passage into which they
|
||
opened, that suffered so great a dilatation, betray'd any
|
||
the least alteration, outward or inwardly, to the most
|
||
curious research, notwithstanding also the laxity that
|
||
naturally follows the warm bath.
|
||
|
||
This continuation of that grateful stricture which is
|
||
in us, to the men, the very jet of their pleasure, I ow'd,
|
||
it seems, to a happy habit of body, juicy, plump and fur-
|
||
nished towards the texture of those parts, with a fullness
|
||
of soft springy flesh, that yielding sufficiently, as it
|
||
does, to almost any distension soon recovers itself so as
|
||
to retighten that strict compression of its mantlings and
|
||
folds, which form the sides of the passage, wherewith it so
|
||
tenderly embraces and closely clips any foreign body intro-
|
||
duc'd into it, such as my exploring finger then was.
|
||
|
||
Finding then every thing in due tone and order, I
|
||
remember'd my fears, only to make a jest of them to myself.
|
||
and now, palpably mistress of nay size of man, and tri-
|
||
umphing in my double achievement of pleasure and revenge, I
|
||
abandon'd myself entirely to the ideas of all the delight I
|
||
had swam in. I lay stretching out, glowingly alive all over,
|
||
and tossing with burning impatience for the renewal of joys
|
||
that had sinned but in a sweet excess; now did I loose my
|
||
longing, for about ten in the morning, according to expect-
|
||
ation, Will, my new humble sweetheart, came with a message
|
||
from his master, Mr. H . . ., to know how I did. I had taken
|
||
care to send my maid on an errand into the city, that I was
|
||
sure would take up time enough; and, from the people of the
|
||
house, I had nothing to fear, as they were plain good sorts
|
||
of folks, and wise enough to mind no more other people's
|
||
business than they could well help.
|
||
|
||
All dispositions then made, not forgetting that of
|
||
lying in bed to receive him, when he was entered the door
|
||
of my bed-chamber, a latch, that I governed by a wire, des-
|
||
cended and secur'd it.
|
||
|
||
I could not but observe that my young minion was as
|
||
much spruced out as could be expected from one in his con-
|
||
dition: a desire of pleasing that could not be indifferent
|
||
to me, since it prov'd that I pleased him; which, I assure
|
||
you, was now a point I was not above having in view.
|
||
|
||
His hair trimly dressed, clean linen, and, above all,
|
||
a hale, ruddy, wholesome country look, made him out as
|
||
pretty a piece of woman's meat as you could see, and I
|
||
should have thought nay one much out of taste that could
|
||
not have made a hearty meal of such a morsel as nature
|
||
seemed to have design'd for the highest diet of pleasure.
|
||
|
||
Part 5
|
||
|
||
And why should I here suppress the delight I received
|
||
from this amiable creature, in remarking each artless look,
|
||
each motion of pure undissembled nature, betrayed by his
|
||
wanton eyes; or shewing, transparently, the glow and suf-
|
||
fusion of blood through his fresh, clear skin, whilst even
|
||
his sturdy rustic pressures wanted not their peculiar
|
||
charm? Oh! but, say you, this was a young fellow of too
|
||
low a rank of life to deserve so great a display. May be
|
||
so: but was my condition, strictly consider'd one jot more
|
||
exalted? or, had I really been much above him, did not his
|
||
capacity of giving such exquisite pleasure sufficiently
|
||
raise and ennoble him, to me, at least? Let who would,
|
||
for me, cherish, respect, and reward the painter's, the
|
||
statuary's, the musician's arts, in proportion to delight
|
||
taken in them: but at my age, and with my taste for plea-
|
||
sure, a taste strongly constitutional to me, the talent of
|
||
pleasing, with which nature has endowed a handsome person,
|
||
form'd to me the greatest of all merits; compared to which,
|
||
the vulgar prejudices in favour of titles, dignities,
|
||
honours, and the like, held a very low rank indeed. Nor
|
||
perhaps would the beauties of the body be so much affected
|
||
to be held cheap, were they, in their nature, to be bought
|
||
and delivered. But for me, whose natural philosophy all
|
||
resided in the favourite center of sense, and who was rul'd
|
||
by its powerful instinct in taking pleasure by its right
|
||
handle, I could scarce have made a choice more to my purpose.
|
||
|
||
Mr. H . . .'s loftier qualifications of birth, fortune
|
||
and sense laid me under a sort of subjection and constraint
|
||
that were far from making harmony in the concert of love,
|
||
nor had he, perhaps, thought me worth softening that superi-
|
||
ority to; but, with this lad, I was more on that level which
|
||
love delights in.
|
||
|
||
We may say what we please, but those we can be the easi-
|
||
est and freest with are ever those we like, not to say love,
|
||
the best.
|
||
|
||
With this stripling, all whose art of love was the
|
||
action of it, I could, without check of awe or restraint,
|
||
give a loose to joy, and execute every scheme of dalliance
|
||
my fond fancy might put me on, in which he was, in every
|
||
sense, a most exquisite companion. And now my great plea-
|
||
sure lay in humouring all the petulances, all the wanton
|
||
frolic of a raw novice just fleshed, and keen on the burning
|
||
scent of his game, but unbroken to the sport: and, to carry
|
||
on the figure, who could better TREAD THE WOOD than he, or
|
||
stand fairer for the HEART OF THE HUNT?
|
||
|
||
He advanc'd then to my bed-side, and whilst he fal-
|
||
tered out his message, I could observe his colour rise, and
|
||
his eyes lighten with joy, in seeing me in a situation as
|
||
favourable to his loosest wishes as if he had bespoke the
|
||
play.
|
||
|
||
I smiled, and put out my hand towards him, which he
|
||
kneeled down to (a politeness taught him by love alone,
|
||
that great master of it) and greedily kiss'd. After
|
||
exchanging a few confused questions and answers, I ask'd
|
||
him if he would come to bed to me, for the little time I
|
||
could venture to detain him. This was just asking a person,
|
||
dying with hunger, to feast upon the dish on earth the most
|
||
to his palate. Accordingly, without further reflection,
|
||
his cloaths were off in an instant; when, blushing still
|
||
more at his new liberty, he got under the bed-cloaths I held
|
||
up to receive him, and was now in bed with a woman for the
|
||
first time in his life.
|
||
|
||
Here began the usual tender preliminaries, as delicious,
|
||
perhaps, as the crowning act of enjoyment itself; which they
|
||
often beget an impatience of, that makes pleasure destruc-
|
||
tive of itself, by hurrying on the final period, and closing
|
||
that scene of bliss, in which the actors are generally too
|
||
well pleas'd with their parts not to wish them an eternity
|
||
of duration.
|
||
|
||
When we had sufficiently graduated our advances towards
|
||
the main point, by toying, kissing, clipping, feeling my
|
||
breasts, now round and plump, feeling that part of me I might
|
||
call a furnace-mouth, from the prodigious intense heat his
|
||
fiery touches had rekindled there, my young sportsman, em-
|
||
bolden'd by every freedom he could wish, wantonly takes my
|
||
hand, and carries it to that enormous machine of his, that
|
||
stood with a stiffness! a hardness! an upward bent of erec-
|
||
tion! and which, together with its bottom dependence, the
|
||
inestimable bulge of lady's jewels, formed a grand show out
|
||
of goods indeed! Then its dimensions, mocking either grasp
|
||
or span, almost renew'd my terrors.
|
||
|
||
I could not conceive how, or by what means I could
|
||
take, or put such a bulk out of sight. I stroked it gently,
|
||
on which the mutinous rogue seemed to swell, and gather a
|
||
new degree of fierceness and insolence; so that finding it
|
||
grew not to be trifled with any longer, I prepar'd for rub-
|
||
bers in good earnest.
|
||
|
||
Slipping then a pillow under me, that I might give him
|
||
the fairest play, I guided officiously with my hand this
|
||
furious battering ram, whose ruby head, presenting nearest
|
||
the resemblance of a heart, I applied to its proper mark,
|
||
which lay as finely elevated as we could wish; my hips
|
||
being borne up, and my thighs at their utmost extension,
|
||
the gleamy warmth that shot from it made him feel that he
|
||
was at the mouth of the indraught, and driving foreright,
|
||
the powerfully divided lips of that pleasure-thirsty
|
||
channel receiv'd him. He hesitated a little; then, set-
|
||
tled well in the passage, he makes his way up the straits
|
||
of it, with a difficulty nothing more than pleasing, widen-
|
||
ing as he went, so as to distend and smooth each soft fur-
|
||
row: our pleasure increasing deliciously, in proportion as
|
||
our points of mutual touch increas'd in that so vital part
|
||
of me in which I had now taken him, all indriven, and com-
|
||
pletely sheathed; and which, crammed as it was, stretched,
|
||
splitting ripe, gave it so gratefully strait an accommoda-
|
||
tion! so strict a fold! a suction so fierce! that gave and
|
||
took unutterable delight. We had now reach'd the closest
|
||
point of union; but when he backened to come on the fiercer,
|
||
as if I had been actuated by a fear of losing him, in the
|
||
height of my fury I twisted my legs round his naked loins,
|
||
the flesh of which, so firm, so springy to the touch,
|
||
quiver'd again under the pressure; and now I had him every
|
||
way encircled and begirt; and having drawn him home to me,
|
||
I kept him fast there, as if I had sought to unite bodies
|
||
with him at that point. This bred a pause of action, a
|
||
pleasure stop, whilst that delicate glutton, my nether-
|
||
mouth, as full as it could hold, kept palating, with ex-
|
||
quisite relish, the morsel that so deliciously ingorged it.
|
||
But nature could not long endure a pleasure that so highly
|
||
provoked without satisfying it: pursuing then its darling
|
||
end, the battery recommenc'd with redoubled exertion; nor
|
||
lay I inactive on my side, but encountering him with all
|
||
the impetuosity of motion but encountering him with all
|
||
the impetuosity of motion I was mistress of. The downy
|
||
cloth of our meeting mounts was now of real use to break
|
||
the violence of the tilt; and soon, too soon indeed! the
|
||
highwrought agitation, the sweet urgency of this to-and-fro
|
||
friction, raised the titillation on me to its height; so
|
||
that finding myself on the point of going, and loath to
|
||
leave the tender partner of my joys behind me, I employed
|
||
all the forwarding motions and arts my experience suggested
|
||
to me, to promote his keeping me company to our journey's
|
||
end. I not only then tighten'd the pleasure-girth round my
|
||
restless inmate by a secret spring of friction and compres-
|
||
sion that obeys the will in those parts, but stole my hand
|
||
softly to that store bag of nature's prime sweets, which is
|
||
so pleasingly attach'd to its conduit pipe, from which we
|
||
receive them; there feeling, and most gently indeed, squeez-
|
||
ing those tender globular reservoirs; the magic touch took
|
||
instant effect, quicken'd, and brought on upon the spur the
|
||
symptoms of that sweet agony, the melting moment of dissolu-
|
||
tion, when pleasure dies by pleasure, and the mysterious
|
||
engine of it overcomes the titillation it has rais'd in
|
||
those parts, by plying them with the stream of a warm li-
|
||
quid that is itself the highest of all titillations, and
|
||
which they thirstily express and draw in like the hot-
|
||
natured leach, which to cool itself, tenaciously attracts
|
||
all the moisture within its sphere of exsuction. Chiming
|
||
then to me, with exquisite consent, as I melted away, his
|
||
oily balsamic injection, mixing deliciously with the sluices
|
||
in flow from me, sheath'd and blunted all the stings of
|
||
pleasure, it flung us into an extasy that extended us faint-
|
||
ing, breathless, entranced. Thus we lay, whilst a voluptuous
|
||
languor possest, and still maintain'd us motionless and fast
|
||
locked in one another's arms. Alas! that these delights
|
||
should be no longer-lived! for now the point of pleasure,
|
||
unedged by enjoyment, and all the brisk sensations flat-
|
||
ten'd upon us, resigned us up to the cool cares of insipid
|
||
life. Disengaging myself then from his embrace, I made him
|
||
sensible of the reasons there were for his present leaving
|
||
me; on which, though reluctantly, he put on his cloaths with
|
||
as little expedition, however, as he could help, wantonly
|
||
interrupting himself, between whiles, with kisses, touches
|
||
and embraces I could not refuse myself to. Yet he happily
|
||
return'd to his master before he was missed; but, at taking
|
||
leave, I forc'd him (for he had sentiments enough to refuse
|
||
it) to receive money enough to buy a silver watch, that
|
||
great article of subaltern finery, which he at length ac-
|
||
cepted of, as a remembrance he was carefully to preserve of
|
||
my affections.
|
||
|
||
And here, Madam, I ought, perhaps, to make you an apol-
|
||
ogy for this minute detail of things, that dwelt so strongly
|
||
upon my memory, after so deep an impression: but, besides
|
||
that this intrigue bred one great revolution in my life,
|
||
which historical truth requires I should not sink from you,
|
||
may I not presume that so exalted a pleasure ought not to be
|
||
ungratefully forgotten, or suppress'd by me, because I found
|
||
it in a character in low life; where, by the bye, it is of-
|
||
tener met with, purer, and more unsophisticate, that among
|
||
the false, ridiculous refinements with which the great suf-
|
||
fer themselves to be so grossly cheated by their pride: the
|
||
great! than whom there exist few amongst those they call
|
||
the vulgar, who are more ignorant of, or who cultivate less,
|
||
the art of living than they do; they, I say, who for ever
|
||
mistake things the most foreign of the nature of pleasure
|
||
itself; whose capital favourite object is enjoyment of
|
||
beauty, wherever that rare invaluable gift is found, without
|
||
distinction of birth, or station.
|
||
|
||
As love never had, so now revenge had no longer any
|
||
share in my commerce with this handsome youth. The sole
|
||
pleasures of enjoyment were now the link I held to him by:
|
||
for though nature had done such great matters for him in
|
||
his outward form, and especially in that superb piece of
|
||
furniture she had so liberally enrich'd him with; though he
|
||
was thus qualify'd to give the senses their richest feast,
|
||
still there was something more wanting to create in me, and
|
||
constitute the passion of love. Yet Will had very good
|
||
qualities too; gentle, tractable, and, above all, grateful;
|
||
close, and secret, even to a fault: he spoke, at any time,
|
||
very little, but made it up emphatically with action; and,
|
||
to do him justice, he never gave me the least reason to
|
||
complain, either of any tendency to encroach upon me for
|
||
the liberties I allow'd him, or of his indiscretion in
|
||
blabbing them. There is, then, a fatality in love, or have
|
||
loved him I must; for he was really a treasure, a bit for
|
||
the BONNE BOUCHE of a duchess; and, to say the truth, my
|
||
liking for him was so extreme, that it was distinguishing
|
||
very nicely to deny that I loved him.
|
||
|
||
My happiness, however, with him did not last long, but
|
||
found an end from my own imprudent neglect. After having
|
||
taken even superfluous precautions against a discovery, our
|
||
success in repeated meetings embolden'd me to omit the barely
|
||
necessary ones. About a month after our first intercourse,
|
||
one fatal morning (the season Mr. H . . . rarely or never
|
||
visited me in) I was in my closet, where my toilet stood, in
|
||
nothing but my shift, a bed gown and under-petticoat. Will
|
||
was with me, and both ever too well disposed to baulk an
|
||
opportunity. For my part, a warm whim, a wanton toy had
|
||
just taken me, and I had challeng'd my man to execute it on
|
||
the spot, who hesitated not to comply with my humour: I was
|
||
set in the arm-chair, my shift and petticoat up, my thighs
|
||
wide spread and mounted over the arms of the chair, present-
|
||
ing the fairest mark to Will's drawn weapon, which he stood
|
||
in act to plunge into me; when, having neglected to secure
|
||
the chamber door, and that of the closet standing a-jar, Mr.
|
||
H . . . stole in upon us before either of us was aware, and
|
||
saw us precisely in these convicting attitudes.
|
||
|
||
I gave a great scream, and drop'd my petticoat: the
|
||
thunder-struck lad stood trembling and pale, waiting his
|
||
sentence of death. Mr. H . . . looked sometimes at one,
|
||
sometimes at the other, with a mixture of indignation and
|
||
scorn; and, without saying a word, turn'd upon his heel and
|
||
went out.
|
||
|
||
As confused as I was, I heard him very distinctly turn
|
||
the key, and lock the chamber-door upon us, so that there
|
||
was no escape but through the dining-room, where he himself
|
||
was walking about with distempered strides, stamping in a
|
||
great chafe, and doubtless debating what he would do with
|
||
us.
|
||
|
||
In the mean time, poor William was frightened out of
|
||
his senses, and, as much need as I had of spirits to sup-
|
||
port myself, I was obliged to employ them all to keep his
|
||
a little up. The misfortune I had now brought upon him,
|
||
endear'd him the more to me, and I could have joyfully suf-
|
||
fered any punishment he had not shared in. I water'd,
|
||
plentifully, with my tears, the face of the frightened youth,
|
||
who sat, not having strength to stand, as cold and as life-
|
||
less as a statue.
|
||
|
||
Presently Mr. H . . . comes in to us again, and made
|
||
us go before him into the dining-room, trembling and dread-
|
||
ing the issue. Mr. H . . . sat down on a chair whilst we
|
||
stood like criminals under examination; and beginning with
|
||
me, ask'd me, with an even firm tone of voice, neither soft
|
||
nor severe, but cruelly indifferent, what I could say for
|
||
myself, for having abused him in so unworthy a manner, with
|
||
his own servant too, and how he had deserv'd this of me?
|
||
|
||
Without adding to the guilt of my infidelity that of
|
||
an audacious defence of it, in the old style of a common
|
||
kept Miss, my answer was modest, and often interrupted by my
|
||
tears, in substance as follows: that I never had a single
|
||
thought of wronging him (which was true), till I had seen
|
||
him taking the last liberties with my servant-wench (here he
|
||
colour'd prodigiously), and that my resentment at that,
|
||
which I was over-awed from giving vent to by complaints, or
|
||
explanations with him, had driven me to a course that I did
|
||
not pretend to justify; but that as to the young man, he was
|
||
entirely faultless; for that, in the view of making him the
|
||
instrument of my revenge, I had down-right seduced him to
|
||
what he had done; and therefore hoped, whatever he deter-
|
||
mined about me, he would distinguish between the guilty and
|
||
the innocent; and that, for the rest, I was entirely at his
|
||
mercy.
|
||
|
||
Mr. H . . ., on hearing what I said, hung his head a
|
||
little; but instantly recovering himself, he said to me,
|
||
as near as I can retain, to the following purpose:
|
||
|
||
"Madam, I owe shame to myself, and confess you have
|
||
fairly turn'd the tables upon me. It is not with one of
|
||
your cast of breeding and sentiments that I should enter
|
||
into a discussion of the very great difference of the pro-
|
||
vocations: be it sufficient that I allow you so much
|
||
reason on your side, as to have changed my resolutions, in
|
||
consideration of what you reproach me with; and I own, too,
|
||
that your clearing that rascal there, is fair and honest in
|
||
you. Renew with you I cannot: the affront is too gross. I
|
||
give you a week's warning to go out of these lodgings;
|
||
whatever I have given you, remains to you; and as I never
|
||
intend to see you more, the landlord will pay you fifty
|
||
pieces on my account, with which, and every debt paid, I
|
||
hope you will own I do not leave you in a worse condition
|
||
than what I took you up in, or than you deserve of me.
|
||
Blame yourself only that it is no better."
|
||
|
||
Then, without giving me time to reply, he address'd
|
||
himself to the young fellow:
|
||
|
||
"For you, spark, I shall, for your father's sake, take
|
||
care of you: the town is no place for such an easy fool as
|
||
thou art; and to-morrow you shall set out, under the charge
|
||
of one of my men, well recommended, in my name, to your
|
||
father, not to let you return and be spoil'd here."
|
||
|
||
At these words he went out, after my vainly attempting
|
||
to stop him by throwing myself at his feet. He shook me off,
|
||
though he seemed greatly mov'd too, and took Will away with
|
||
him, who, I dare swear, thought himself very cheaply off.
|
||
|
||
I was now once more a-drift, and left upon my own hands,
|
||
by a gentleman whom I certainly did not deserve. And all the
|
||
letters, arts, friends' entreaties that I employed within the
|
||
week of grace in my lodging, could never win on him so much
|
||
as to see me again. He had irrevocably pornounc'd my doom,
|
||
and submission to it was my only part. Soon after he married
|
||
a lady of birth and fortune, to whom, I have heard, he prov'd
|
||
an irreproachable husband.
|
||
|
||
As for poor Will, he was immediately sent down to the
|
||
country to his father, who was an easy farmer, where he was
|
||
not four months before and inn-keeper's buxom young widow,
|
||
with a very good stock, both in money and trade, fancy'd,
|
||
and perhaps pre-acquainted with his secret excellencies,
|
||
marry'd him: and I am sure there was, at least, one good
|
||
foundation for their living happily together.
|
||
|
||
Though I should have been charm'd to see him before
|
||
he went, such measures were taken, by Mr. H . . .'s orders,
|
||
that it was impossible; otherwise I should certainly have
|
||
endeavour'd to detain him in town, and would have spared
|
||
neither offers nor expence to have procured myself the
|
||
satisfaction of keeping him with me. He had such powerful
|
||
holds upon my inclinations as were not easily to be shaken
|
||
off, or replaced; as to my heart, it was quite out of the
|
||
question: glad, however, I was from my soul, that nothing
|
||
worse, and as things turn'd out, probably nothing better
|
||
could have happened to him.
|
||
|
||
As to Mr. H . . ., though views of conveniency made
|
||
me, at first, exert myself to regain his affection, I was
|
||
giddy and thoughtless enough to be much easier reconcil'd
|
||
to my failure than I ought to have been; but as I never had
|
||
lov'd him, and his leaving me gave me a sort of liberty that
|
||
I had often long'd for, I was soon comforted; and flattering
|
||
myself that the stock of youth and beauty I was going into
|
||
trade with could hardly fail of procuring me a maintenance,
|
||
I saw myself under a necessity of trying my fortune with
|
||
them, rather, with pleasure and gaiety, than with the least
|
||
idea of despondency.
|
||
|
||
In the mean time, several of my acquaintances among
|
||
the sisterhood, who had soon got wind of my misfortune,
|
||
flocked to insult me with their malicious consolations.
|
||
Most of them had long envied me the affluence and splendour
|
||
I had been maintain'd in; and though there was scarce one
|
||
of them that did not at least deserve to be in my case, and
|
||
would probably, sooner or later, come to it, it was equally
|
||
easy to remark, even in their affected pity, their secret
|
||
pleasure at seeing me thus disgrac'd and discarded, and
|
||
their secret grief that it was no worse with me. Unaccount-
|
||
able malice of the human heart! and which is not confin'd
|
||
to the class of life they were of.
|
||
|
||
But as the time approached for me to come to some
|
||
resolution how to dispose of myself, and I was considering
|
||
round where to shift my quarters to, Mrs. Cole, a middle-
|
||
aged discreet sort of woman, who had been brought into my
|
||
acquaintance by one ot the Misses that visited me, upon
|
||
learning my situation, came to offer her cordial advice and
|
||
service to me; and as I had always taken to her more than
|
||
to any of my female acquaintances, I listened the easier to
|
||
her proposals. And, as it happened, I could not have put
|
||
myself into worse, or into better hands in all London: into
|
||
worse, because keeping a house of conveniency, there were
|
||
no lengths in lewdness she would not advise me to go, in
|
||
compliance with her customers; no schemes of pleasure, or
|
||
even unbounded debauchery, she did not take even a delight
|
||
in promoting: into a better, because nobody having had more
|
||
experience of the wicked part of the town than she had, was
|
||
fitter to advise and guard one against the worst dangers of
|
||
our profession; and what was rare to be met with in those
|
||
of her's, she contented herself with a moderate living pro-
|
||
fit upon her industry and good offices, and had nothing of
|
||
their greedy rapacious turn. She was really too a gentle-
|
||
woman born and bred, but through a train of accidents
|
||
reduc'd to this course, which she pursued, partly through
|
||
necessity, partly through choice, as never woman delighted
|
||
more in encouraging a brisk circulation of trade for the
|
||
sake of the trade itself, or better understood all the my-
|
||
steries and refinements of it, than she did; so that she
|
||
was consummately at the top of her profession, and dealt
|
||
only with customers of distinction: to answer the demands
|
||
of whom she kept a competent number of her daughters in
|
||
constant recruit (so she call'd those whom by her means,
|
||
and through her tuition and instructions, succeeded very
|
||
well in the world).
|
||
|
||
This useful gentlewoman upon whose protection I now
|
||
threw myself, having her reasons of state, respecting Mr.
|
||
H . . ., for not appearing too much in the thing herself,
|
||
sent a friend of her's, on the day appointed for my removal,
|
||
to conduct me to my new lodgings at a brushmaker's in R***
|
||
street, Covent Garden, the very next door to her own house,
|
||
where she had no conveniences to lodge me herself: lodgings
|
||
that, by having been for several successions tenanted by
|
||
ladies of pleasure, the landlord of them was familiarized
|
||
to their ways; and provided the rent was duly paid, every
|
||
thing else was as easy and commodious as one could desire.
|
||
|
||
The fifty guineas promis'd me by Mr. H . . ., at his
|
||
parting with me, having been duly paid me, all my cloaths
|
||
and moveables chested up, which were at least of two
|
||
hundred pound's value, I had them convey'd into a coach,
|
||
where I soon followed them, after taking a civil leave of
|
||
the landlord and his family, with whom I had never liv'd in
|
||
a degree of familiarity enough to regret the removal; but
|
||
still, the very circumstance of its being a removal drew
|
||
tears from me. I left, too, a letter of thanks for Mr.
|
||
H . . ., from whom I concluded myself, as I really was,
|
||
irretrievably separated.
|
||
|
||
My maid I had discharged the day before, not only
|
||
because I had her of Mr. H . . ., but that I suspected her
|
||
of having some how or other been the occasion of his dis-
|
||
covering me, in revenge, perhaps, for my not having trusted
|
||
her with him.
|
||
|
||
We soon got to my lodgings, which, though not so hand-
|
||
somely furnish'd nor so showy as those I left, were to the
|
||
full as convenient, and at half price, though on the first
|
||
floor. My trunks were safely landed, and stow'd in my
|
||
apartments, where my neighbour, and now gouvernante, Mrs.
|
||
Cole, was ready with my landlord to receive me, to whom she
|
||
took care to set me out in the most favourable light, that
|
||
of one from whom there was the clearest reason to expect
|
||
the regular payment of his rent: all the cardinal virtues
|
||
attributed to me would not have had half the weight of that
|
||
recommendation alone.
|
||
|
||
I was now settled in lodgings of my own, abandon'd to
|
||
my own conduct, and turned loose upon the town, to sink or
|
||
swim, as I could manage with the current of it; and what
|
||
were the consequences, together with the number of adven-
|
||
tures which befell me in the exercise of my new profession,
|
||
will compose the matter of another letter: for surely it is
|
||
high time to put a period to this.
|
||
|
||
I am,
|
||
MADAM
|
||
Yours, etc., etc., etc.
|
||
|
||
THE END OF THE FIRST LETTER
|
||
|
||
Part 6
|
||
|
||
LETTER THE SECOND
|
||
|
||
Madam,
|
||
|
||
If I have delay'd the sequel of my history, it has been
|
||
purely to allow myself a little breathing time not without
|
||
some hopes that, instead of pressing me to a continuation,
|
||
you would have acquitted me of the task of pursuing a con-
|
||
fession, in the course of which my self-esteem has so many
|
||
wounds to sustain.
|
||
|
||
I imagined, indeed, that you would have been cloy'd and
|
||
tired with uniformity of adventures and expressions, insep-
|
||
arable from a subject of this sort, whose bottom, or ground-
|
||
work being, in the nature of things, eternally one and the
|
||
same, whatever variety of forms and modes the situations are
|
||
susceptible of, there is no escaping a repetition of near
|
||
the same images, the same figures, the same expressions,
|
||
with this further inconvenience added to the disgust it cre-
|
||
ates, that the words JOYS, ARDOURS, TRANSPORTS, EXTASIES,
|
||
and the rest of those pathetic terms so congenial to, so
|
||
received in the PRACTICE OF PLEASURE, flatten and lose much
|
||
of their due spirit and energy by the frequency they indis-
|
||
pensably recur with, in a narrative of which that PRACTICE
|
||
professedly composes the whole basis. I must therefore
|
||
trust to the candour of your judgement, for your allowing
|
||
for the disadvantage I am necessarily under in that respect,
|
||
and to your imagination and sensibility, the pleasing task
|
||
of repairing it by their supplements, where my descriptions
|
||
flag or fail: the one will readily place the pictures I
|
||
present before your eyes; the other give life to the colours
|
||
where they are dull, or worn with too frequent handling.
|
||
|
||
What you say besides, by way of encouragement, con-
|
||
cerning the extreme difficulty of continuing so long in one
|
||
strain, in a mean temper'd with taste, between the revolt-
|
||
ingness of gross, rank and vulgar expressions, and the ridi-
|
||
cule of mincing metaphors and affected circumlocutions, is
|
||
so sensible, as well as good-natur'd, that you greatly
|
||
justify me to myself for my compliance with a curiosity that
|
||
is to be satisfied so extremely at my expense.
|
||
|
||
Resuming now where I broke off in my last, I am in my
|
||
way to remark to you that it was late in the evening before
|
||
I arriv'd at my new lodgings, and Mrs. Cole, after helping
|
||
me to range and secure my things, spent the whole evening
|
||
with me in my apartment, where we supped together, in giving
|
||
me the best advice and instruction with regard to this new
|
||
stage of my profession I was now to enter upon; and passing
|
||
thus from a private devotee to pleasure into a public one,
|
||
to become a more general good, with all the advantages re-
|
||
quisite to put my person out to use, either for interest or
|
||
pleasure, or both. But then, she observ'd, as I was a kind
|
||
of new face upon the town, that it was an established rule,
|
||
and part of trade, for me to pass for a maid, and dispose of
|
||
myself as such on the first good occasion, without prejudice,
|
||
however, to such diversions as I might have a mind to in the
|
||
interim; for that nobody could be a greater enemy than she
|
||
was to the losing of time. That she would, in the mean time,
|
||
do her best to find out a proper person, and would undertake
|
||
to manage this nice point for me, if I would accept of her
|
||
aid and advice to such good purpose that, in the loss of a
|
||
fictitious maidenhead, I should reap all the advantages of a
|
||
native one.
|
||
|
||
Though such a delicacy of sentiments did not extremely
|
||
belong to my character at that time, I confess, against my-
|
||
self, that I perhaps too readily closed with a proposal which
|
||
my candor and ingenuity gave me some repugnance to: but not
|
||
enough to contradict the intention of one to whom I had now
|
||
thoroughly abandoned the direction of all my steps. For Mrs.
|
||
Cole had, I do not know how unless by one of those unaccount-
|
||
able invincible sympathies that, nevertheless, form the
|
||
strongest links, especially of female friendship, won and
|
||
got entire possession of me. On her side, she pretended
|
||
that a strict resemblance she fancied she saw in me to an
|
||
only daughter whom she had lost at my age, was the first
|
||
motive of her taking to me so affectionately as she did. It
|
||
might be so: there exist as slender motives of attachment
|
||
that, gathering force from habit and liking, have proved
|
||
often more solid and durable than those founded on much
|
||
stronger reasons; but this I know, that tho' I had no other
|
||
acquaintance with her than seeing her at my lodgings when I
|
||
lived with Mr. H . . ., where she had made errands to sell
|
||
me some millinery ware, she had by degrees insinuated her-
|
||
self so far into my confidence that I threw myself blindly
|
||
into her hands, and came, at length, to regard, love, and
|
||
obey her implicitly; and, to do her justice, I never experi-
|
||
enc'd at her hands other than a sincerity of tenderness, and
|
||
care for my interest, hardly heard of in those of her pro-
|
||
fession. We parted that night, after having settled a per-
|
||
fect unreserv'd agreement; and the next morning Mrs. Cole
|
||
came, and took me with her to her house for the first time.
|
||
|
||
Here, at the first sight of things, I found everything
|
||
breath'd an air of decency, modesty and order.
|
||
|
||
In the outer parlour, or rather shop, sat three young
|
||
women, very demurely employ'd on millinery work, which was
|
||
the cover of a traffic in more precious commodities; but
|
||
three beautifuller creatures could hardly be seen. Two of
|
||
them were extremely fair, the eldest not above nineteen;
|
||
and the third, much about that age, was a piquant brunette,
|
||
whose black sparkling eyes, and perfect harmony of features
|
||
and shape, left her nothing to envy in her fairer companions.
|
||
Their dress too had the more design in it, the less it ap-
|
||
peared to have, being in a taste of uniform correct neatness,
|
||
and elegant simplicity. These were the girls that compos'd
|
||
the small domestick flock, which my governess train'd up with
|
||
surprising order and management, considering the giddy wild-
|
||
ness of young girls once got upon the loose. But then she
|
||
never continued any in her house, whom, after a due novitiate,
|
||
she found untractable, or unwilling to comply with the rules
|
||
of it. Thus had she insensibly formed a little family of
|
||
love, in which the members found so sensibly their account,
|
||
in a rare alliance of pleasure with interest, and of a
|
||
necessary outward decency with unbounded secret liberty,
|
||
that Mrs. Cole, who had pick'd them as much for their temper
|
||
as their beauty, govern'd them with ease to herself and them
|
||
too.
|
||
|
||
To these pupils then of hers, whom she had prepar'd,
|
||
she presented me as a new boarder, and one that was to be
|
||
immediately admitted to all the intimacies of the house; upon
|
||
which these charming girls gave me all the marks of a welcome
|
||
reception, and indeed of being perfectly pleased with my
|
||
figure, that I could possibly expect from any of my own sex:
|
||
but they had been effectually brought to sacrifice all jeal-
|
||
ousy, or competition of charms, to a common interest, and
|
||
consider'd me a partner that was bringing no despicable stock
|
||
of goods into the trade of the house. They gathered round
|
||
me, view'd me on all sides; and as my admission into this
|
||
joyous troop made a little holiday, the shew of work was
|
||
laid aside; and Mrs. Cole giving me up, with special recom-
|
||
mendation, to their caresses and entertainment, went about
|
||
her ordinary business of the house.
|
||
|
||
The sameness of our sex, age, profession, and views
|
||
soon created as unreserv'd a freedom and intimacy as if we
|
||
had been for years acquainted. They took and shew'd me the
|
||
house, their respective apartments, which were furnished
|
||
with every article of conveniency and luxury; and above all,
|
||
a spacious drawing-room, where a select revelling band usu-
|
||
ally met, in general parties of pleasure; the girls supping
|
||
with their sparks, and acting their wanton pranks with un-
|
||
bounded licentiousness; whilst a defiance of awe, modesty or
|
||
jealousy were their standing rules, by which, according to
|
||
the principles of their society, whatever pleasure was lost
|
||
on the side of sentiment was abundantly made up to the
|
||
senses in the poignancy of variety, and the charms of ease
|
||
and luxury. The authors and supporters of this secret in-
|
||
stitution would, in the height of their humours style them-
|
||
selves the restorers of the golden age and its simplicity
|
||
of pleasures, before their innocence became so injustly
|
||
branded with the names of guilt and shame.
|
||
|
||
As soon then as the evening began, and the shew of a
|
||
shop was shut, the academy open'd; the mask of mock-modesty
|
||
was completely taken off, and all the girls deliver'd over
|
||
to their respective calls of pleasure or interest with
|
||
their men; and none of that sex was promiscuously admitted,
|
||
but only such as Mrs. Cole was previously satisfied with
|
||
their character and discretion. In short, this was the
|
||
safest, politest, and, at the same time, the most thorough
|
||
house of accommodation in town: every thing being conducted
|
||
so that decency made no intrenchment upon the most libertine
|
||
pleasures, in the practice of which too, the choice familiars
|
||
of the house had found the secret so rare and difficult, of
|
||
reconciling even all the refinements of taste and delicacy
|
||
with the most gross and determinate gratifications of senu-
|
||
ality.
|
||
|
||
After having consum'd the morning in the endearments
|
||
and instructions of my new acquaintance, we went to dinner,
|
||
when Mrs. Cole, presiding at the head of her club, gave me
|
||
the first idea of her management and address, in inspiring
|
||
these girls with so sensible a love and respect for her.
|
||
There was no stiffness, no reserve, no airs of pique, or
|
||
little jealousies, but all was unaffectedly gay, cheerful
|
||
and easy.
|
||
|
||
After dinner, Mrs. Cole, seconded by the young ladies,
|
||
acquainted me that there was a chapter to be held that night
|
||
in form, for the ceremony of my reception into the sister-
|
||
hood; and in which, with all due reserve to my maidenhead,
|
||
that was to be occasionally cook'd up for the first proper
|
||
chapman, I was to undergo a ceremonial of initiation they
|
||
were sure I should not be displeased with.
|
||
|
||
Embark'd as I was, and moreover captivated with the
|
||
charms of my new companions, I was too much prejudic'd in
|
||
favour of any proposal they could make, to much as hesitate
|
||
an assent; which, therefore, readily giving in the style of
|
||
a carte blanche, I receiv'd fresh kisses of compliment from
|
||
them all, in approval of my docility and good nature. Now
|
||
I was "a sweet girl . . ." I came into things with a "good
|
||
grace . . ." I was not "affectedly coy . . ." I should be
|
||
"the pride of the house . . ." and the like.
|
||
|
||
This point thus adjusted, the young women left Mrs.
|
||
Cole to talk and concert matters with me: she explained to
|
||
me that I should be introduc'd, that very evening, to four
|
||
of her best friends, one of whom she had, according to the
|
||
custom of the house, favoured with the preference of engag-
|
||
ing me in the first party of pleasure; assuring me, at the
|
||
same time, that they were all young gentlemen agreeable in
|
||
their persons, and unexceptionable in every respect; that
|
||
united, and holding together by the band of common pleasures,
|
||
they composed the chief support of her house, and made very
|
||
liberal presents to the girls that pleas'd and humour'd
|
||
them, so that they were, properly speaking, the founders
|
||
and patrons of this little seraglio. Not but that she had,
|
||
at proper seasons, other customers to deal with, whom she
|
||
stood less upon punctilio with than with these; for instance,
|
||
it was not on one of them she could attempt to pass me for
|
||
a maid; they were not only too knowing, too much town-bred
|
||
to bite at such a bait, but they were such generous bene-
|
||
factors to her that it would be unpardonable to think of it.
|
||
|
||
Amidst all the flutter and emotion which this promise
|
||
of pleasure, for such I conceiv'd it, stirr'd up in me, I
|
||
preserved so much of the woman as to feign just reluctance
|
||
enough to make some merit of sacrificing it to the influence
|
||
of my patroness, whom I likewise, still in character, re-
|
||
minded of it perhaps being right for me to go home and dress,
|
||
in favour of my first impressions.
|
||
|
||
But Mrs. Cole, in opposition to this, assured me that
|
||
the gentlemen I should be presented to were, by their rank
|
||
and taste of things, infinitely superior to the being touched
|
||
with any glare of dress or ornaments, such as silly women
|
||
rather confound and overlay than set off their beauty with;
|
||
that these veteran voluptuaries knew better than not to hold
|
||
them in the highest contempt: they with whom the pure native
|
||
charms alone could pass current, and who would at any time
|
||
leave a sallow, washy, painted duchess on her own hands, for
|
||
a ruddy, healthy, firm-flesh'd country maid; and as for my
|
||
part, that nature had done enough for me, to set me above
|
||
owing the least favour to art; concluding withal, that for
|
||
the instant occasion, there was no dress like an undress.
|
||
|
||
I thought my governess too good a judge of these matters
|
||
not to be easily over-ruled by her: after which she went on
|
||
preaching very pathetically the doctrine of passive obedience
|
||
and not-resistance to all those arbitrary tastes of pleasure,
|
||
which are by some styl'd the refinements, and by others the
|
||
depravations of it; between whom it was not the business of
|
||
a simple girl, who was to profit by pleasing, to decide, but
|
||
to conform to. Whilst I was edifying by these wholesome
|
||
lessons, tea was brought in, and the young ladies, returning,
|
||
joined company with us.
|
||
|
||
After a great deal of mix'd chat, frolic and humour,
|
||
one of them, observing that there would be a good deal of
|
||
time on hand before the assembly-hour, proposed that each
|
||
girl should entertain the company with that critical period
|
||
of her personal history in which she first exchanged the
|
||
maiden state for womanhood. The proposal was approv'd, with
|
||
only one restriction of Mrs. Cole, that she, on account of
|
||
her age, and I, on account of my titular maidenhead, should
|
||
be excused, at least till I had undergone the forms of the
|
||
house. This obtain'd me a dispensation, and the promotress
|
||
of this amusement was desired to begin.
|
||
|
||
Her name was Emily; a girl fair to excess, and whose
|
||
limbs were, if possible, too well made, since their plump
|
||
fullness was rather to the prejudice of that delicate slimness
|
||
requir'd by the nicer judges of beauty; her eyes were blue,
|
||
and streamed inexpressible sweetness, and nothing could be
|
||
prettier than her mouth and lips, which clos'd over a range
|
||
of the evenest and whitest teeth. Thus she began:
|
||
|
||
"Neither my extraction, nor the most critical adventure
|
||
of my life, is sublime enough to impeach me of any vanity in
|
||
the advancement of the proposal you have approv'd of. My
|
||
father and mother were, and for aught I know, are still,
|
||
farmers in the country, not above forty miles from town:
|
||
their barbarity to me, in favour of a son, on whom only they
|
||
vouchsafed to bestow their tenderness, had a thousand times
|
||
determined me to fly their house, and throw myself on the
|
||
wide world; but, at length, an accident forc'd me on this
|
||
desperate attempt at the age of fifteen. I had broken a
|
||
china bowl, the pride and idol of both their hearts; and as
|
||
an unmerciful beating was the least I had to depend on at
|
||
their hands, in the silliness of those tender years I left
|
||
the house, and, at all adventures, took the road to London.
|
||
How my loss was resented I do not know, for till this instant
|
||
I have not heard a syllable about them. My whole stock was
|
||
too broad pieces of my grandmother's, a few shillings, silver
|
||
shoe-buckles and a silver thimble. Thus equipp'd, with no
|
||
more cloaths than the ordinary ones I had on my back, and
|
||
frighten'd at every foot or noise I heard behind me, I
|
||
hurried on; and I dare swear, walked a dozen miles before I
|
||
stopped, through mere weariness and fatigue. At length I
|
||
sat down on a stile, wept bitterly, and yet was still rather
|
||
under increased impressions of fear on the account of my
|
||
escape; which made dread, worse than death, the going back
|
||
to face my unnatural parents. Refresh'd by this little
|
||
repose, and relieved by my tears, I was proceeding onward,
|
||
when I was overtaken by a sturdy country lad who was going to
|
||
London to see what he could do for himself there, and, like
|
||
me, had given his friends the slip. He could not be above
|
||
seventeen, was ruddy, well featur'd enough, with uncombed
|
||
flaxen hair, a little flapp'd hat, kersey frock, yarn stock-
|
||
ings, in short, a perfect plough-boy. I saw him come whist-
|
||
ling behind me, with a bundle tied to the end of a stick,
|
||
his travelling equipage. We walk'd by one another for some
|
||
time without speaking; at length we join'd company, and
|
||
agreed to keep together till we got to our journey's end.
|
||
What his designs or ideas were, I know not: the innocence of
|
||
mine I can solemnly protest.
|
||
|
||
"As night drew on, it became us to look out for some
|
||
inn or shelter; to which perplexity another was added, and
|
||
that was, what we should say for ourselves, if we were
|
||
question'd. After some puzzle, the young fellow started a
|
||
proposal, which I thought the finest that could be; and
|
||
what was that? why, that we should pass for husband and wife:
|
||
I never once dream'd of consequences. We came presently,
|
||
after having agreed on this notable expedient, to one of
|
||
those hedge-accommodations for foot passengers, at the door
|
||
do which stood an old crazy beldam, who seeing us trudge by,
|
||
invited us to lodge there. Glad of any cover, we went in,
|
||
and my fellow traveller, taking all upon him, call'd for what
|
||
the house afforded, and we supped together as man and wife;
|
||
which, considering our figures and ages, could not have
|
||
passed on any one but such as any thing could pass on. But
|
||
when bedtime came on, we had neither of us the courage to
|
||
contradict out first account of ourselves; and what was ex-
|
||
tremely pleasant, the young lad seem'd as perplex'd as I was,
|
||
how to evade lying together, which was so natural for the
|
||
state we had pretenced to. Whilst we were in this quandary,
|
||
the landlady takes the candle and lights us to our apartment,
|
||
through a long yard, at the end of which it stood, separate
|
||
from the body of the house. Thus we suffer'd ourselves to
|
||
be conducted, without saying a word in opposition to it; and
|
||
there, in a wretched room, with a bed answerable, we were
|
||
left to pass the night together, as a thing quite of course.
|
||
For my part, I was so incredibly innocent as not even then to
|
||
think much more harm of going to bed with the young man than
|
||
with one of our dairy-wenches; nor had he, perhaps, any other
|
||
notions than those of innocence, till such a fair occasion
|
||
put them into his head.
|
||
|
||
"Before either of us undressed, however, he put out
|
||
the candle; and the bitterness of the weather made it a kind
|
||
of necessity for me to go into bed: slipping then my cloaths
|
||
off, I crept under the bed-cloaths, where I found the young
|
||
stripling already nestled, and the touch of his warm flesh
|
||
rather pleas'd than alarm'd me. I was indeed too much dis-
|
||
turbed with the novelty of my condition to be able to sleep;
|
||
but then I had not the least thought of harm. But, oh! how
|
||
powerful are the instincts of nature! how little is there
|
||
wanting to set them in action! The young man, sliding his
|
||
arm under my body, drew me gently towards him, as if to keep
|
||
himself and me warmer; and the heat I felt from joining our
|
||
breasts, kindled another that I had hitherto never felt, and
|
||
was, even then, a stranger to the nature of. Emboldened, I
|
||
suppose, by my easiness, he ventur'd to kiss me, and I insen-
|
||
sibly returned it, without knowing the consequence of return-
|
||
ing it; for, on this encouragement, he slipped his hand all
|
||
down from my breast to that part of me where the sense of
|
||
feeling is so exquisitely critical, as I then experienc'd by
|
||
its instant taking fire upon the touch, and glowing with a
|
||
strange tickling heat: there he pleas'd himself and me, by
|
||
feeling, till, growing a little too bold, he hurt me, and
|
||
made me complain. Then he took my hand, which he guided,
|
||
not unwillingly on my side, between the twist of his closed
|
||
thighs, which were extremely warm; there he lodged and
|
||
pressed it, till raising it by degrees, he made me feel the
|
||
proud distinction of his sex from mine. I was frighten'd
|
||
at the novelty, and drew back my hand; yet, pressed and
|
||
spurred on by sensations of a strange pleasure, I could not
|
||
help asking him what that was for? He told me he would
|
||
show me if I would let him; and, without waiting for my
|
||
answer, which he prevented by stopping my mouth with kisses
|
||
I was far from disrelishing, he got upon me, and inserting
|
||
one of his thighs between mine, opened them so as to make
|
||
way for himself, and fixed me to his purpose; whilst I was
|
||
so much out of my usual sense, so subdu'd by the present
|
||
power of a new one, that, between fear and desire, I lay
|
||
utterly passive, till the piercing pain rous'd and made me
|
||
cry out. But it was too late: he was too firm fix'd in the
|
||
saddle for me to compass flinging him, with all the strug-
|
||
gles I could use, some of which only served to further his
|
||
point, and at length an irresistible thrust murdered at once
|
||
my maidenhead, and almost me. I now lay a bleeding witness
|
||
of the necessity impos'd on our sex, to gather the first
|
||
honey off the thorns.
|
||
|
||
"But the pleasure rising as the pain subsided, I was
|
||
soon reconciled to fresh trials, and before morning, nothing
|
||
on earth could be dearer to me than this rifler of my virgin
|
||
sweets: he was every thing to me now. How we agreed to join
|
||
fortunes; how we came up to town together, where we lived
|
||
some time, till necessity parted us, and drove me into this
|
||
course of life, in which I had been long ago battered and
|
||
torn to pieces before I came to this age, as much through
|
||
my easiness, as through my inclination, had it not been for
|
||
my finding refuge in this house: these are all circumstances
|
||
which pass the mark I proposed, so that here my narrative
|
||
ends."
|
||
|
||
In the order of our sitting, it was Harriet's turn to
|
||
go on. Amongst all the beauties of our sex that I had be-
|
||
fore or have since seen, few indeed were the forms that
|
||
could dispute excellence with her's; it was not delicate,
|
||
but delicacy itself incarnate, such was the symmetry of her
|
||
small but exactly fashion'd limbs. Her complexion, fair as
|
||
it was, appeared yet more fair from the effect of two black
|
||
eyes, the brilliancy of which gave her face more vivacity
|
||
than belonged to the colour of it, which was only defended
|
||
from paleness by a sweetly pleasing blush in her cheeks,
|
||
that grew fainter and fainter, till at length it died away
|
||
insensibly into the overbearing white. Then her miniature
|
||
features join'd to finish the extreme sweetness of it,
|
||
which was not belied by that of temper turned to indolence,
|
||
languor, and the pleasures of love. Press'd to subscribe
|
||
her contingent, she smiled, blushed a little, and thus
|
||
complied with our desires:
|
||
|
||
"My father was neither better nor worse than a miller
|
||
near the city of York; and both he and my mother dying
|
||
whilst I was an infant, I fell under the care of a widow
|
||
and childless aunt, housekeeper to my lord N . . ., at his
|
||
seat in the county of . . ., where she brought me up with
|
||
all imaginable tenderness. I was not seventeen, as I am
|
||
not now eighteen, before I had, on account of my person
|
||
purely (for fortune I had notoriously none), several advan-
|
||
tageous proposals; but whether nature was slow in making me
|
||
sensible in her favourite passion, or that I had not seen
|
||
any of the other sex who had stirr'd up the least emotion
|
||
or curiosity to be better acquainted with it, I had, till
|
||
that age, preserv'd a perfect innocence, even of thought:
|
||
whilst my fears of I did not well know what, made me no
|
||
more desirous of marrying than of dying. My aunt, good
|
||
woman, favoured my timorousness, which she look'd on as
|
||
childish affection, that her own experience might probably
|
||
assure her would wear off in time, and gave my suitors
|
||
proper answers for me.
|
||
|
||
"The family had not been down at that seat for years,
|
||
so that it was neglected, and committed entirely to my aunt,
|
||
and two old domestics to take care of it. Thus I had the
|
||
full range of a spacious lonely house and gardens, situate
|
||
at about half a mile distance form any other habitation,
|
||
except, perhaps, a straggling cottage or so.
|
||
|
||
"Here, in tranquillity and innocence, I grew up with-
|
||
out any memorable accident, till one fatal day I had, as I
|
||
had often done before, left my aunt fast asleep, and secure
|
||
for some hours, after dinner; and resorting to a kind of
|
||
ancient summer-house, at some distance from the house, I
|
||
carried my work with me, and sat over a rivulet, which its
|
||
door and window fac'd upon. Here I fell into a gentle
|
||
breathing slumber, which stole upon my senses, as they
|
||
fainted under the excessive heat of the season at that hour;
|
||
a cane couch, with my work-basket for a pillow, were all
|
||
the conveniencies of my short repose; for I was soon awaked
|
||
and alarmed by a flounce, and the noise of splashing in the
|
||
water. I got up to see what was the matter; and what indeed
|
||
should it be but the son of a neighbouring gentleman, as I
|
||
afterwards found (for I had never seen him before), who had
|
||
strayed that way with his gun, and heated by his sport, and
|
||
the sultriness of the day, had been tempted by the freshness
|
||
of the clear stream; so that presently stripping, he jump'd
|
||
into it on the other side, which bordered on a wood, some
|
||
trees whereof, inclined down to the water, form'd a pleasing
|
||
shady recess, commodious to undress and leave his clothes
|
||
under.
|
||
|
||
"My first emotions at the sight of this youth, naked in
|
||
the water, were, with all imaginable respect to truth, those
|
||
of surprise and fear; and, in course, I should immediately
|
||
have run out, had not my modesty, fatally for itself, inter-
|
||
posed the objection of the door and window being so situated
|
||
that it was scarce possible to get out, and make my way
|
||
along the bank to the house, without his seeing me: which I
|
||
could not bear the thought of, so much ashamed and con-
|
||
founded was I at having seen him. Condemn'd then to stay
|
||
till his departure should release me, I was greatly embar-
|
||
rassed how to dispose of myself: I kept some time betwixt
|
||
terror and modesty, even from looking through the window,
|
||
which being an old-fashinon'd casement, without any light
|
||
behind me, could hardly betray any one's being there to
|
||
him from within; then the door was so secure, that without
|
||
violence, or my own consent, there was no opening it from
|
||
without.
|
||
|
||
"But now, by my own experience, I found it too true
|
||
that objects which affright us, when we cannot get from
|
||
them, draw out eyes as forcibly as those that please us.
|
||
I could not long withstand that nameless impulse, which,
|
||
without any desire of this novel sight, compelled me to-
|
||
wards it; embolden'd too by my certainty of being at once
|
||
unseen and safe, I ventur'd by degrees to cast my eyes on an
|
||
object so terrible and alarming to my virgin modesty as a
|
||
naked man. But as I snatched a look, the first gleam that
|
||
struck me was in general the dewy lustre of the whitest skin
|
||
imaginable, which the sun playing upon made the reflection
|
||
of it perfectly beamy. His face, in the confusion I was in,
|
||
I could not well distinguish the lineaments of, any farther
|
||
than that there was a great deal of youth and freshness in
|
||
it. The frolic and various play of all his polish'd limbs,
|
||
as they appeared above the surface, in the course of his
|
||
swimming or wantoning with the water, amus'd and insensibly
|
||
delighted me: sometimes he lay motionless, on his back,
|
||
waterborne, and dragging after him a fine head of hair,
|
||
that, floating, swept the stream in a bush of black curls.
|
||
Then the over-flowing water would make a separation between
|
||
his breast and glossy white belly; at the bottom of which I
|
||
could not escape observing so remarkable a distinction as a
|
||
black mossy tuft, out of which appeared to emerge a round,
|
||
softish, limber, white something, that played every way,
|
||
with ever the least motion or whirling eddy. I cannot say
|
||
but that part chiefly, by a kind of natural instinct,
|
||
attracted, detain'd, captivated my attention: it was out of
|
||
the power of all my modesty to command my eye away from it;
|
||
and seeing nothing so very dreadful in its appearance, I
|
||
insensibly lock'd away all my fears: but as fast as they
|
||
gave way, new desires and strange wishes took place, and I
|
||
melted as I gazed. The fire of nature, that had so long
|
||
lain dormant or conceal'd, began to break out, and made me
|
||
feel my sex the first time. He had now changed his pos-
|
||
ture, and swam prone on his belly, striking out with his
|
||
legs and arms, finer modell'd than which could not have
|
||
been cast, whilst his floating locks played over a neck and
|
||
shoulders whose whiteness they delightfully set off. Then
|
||
the luxuriant swell of flesh that rose form the small of
|
||
his back, and terminated its double cope at where the
|
||
thighs are sent off, perfectly dazzled one with its watery
|
||
glistening gloss.
|
||
|
||
"By this time I was so affected by this inward involu-
|
||
tion of sentiments, so soften'd by this sight, that now,
|
||
betrayed into a sudden transition from extreme fears to ex-
|
||
treme desires, I found these last so strong upon me, the
|
||
heat of the weather too perhaps conspiring to exalt their
|
||
rage, that nature almost fainted under them. Not that I so
|
||
much as knew precisely what was wanting to me: my only
|
||
thought was that so sweet a creature as this youth seemed
|
||
to me could only make me happy; but then, the little like-
|
||
lihood there was of compassing an acquaintance with him, or
|
||
perhaps of ever seeing him again, dash'd my desires, and
|
||
turn'd them into torments. I was still gazing, with all
|
||
the powers of my sight, on this bewitching object, when, in
|
||
an instant, down he went. I had heard of such things as a
|
||
cramp seizing on even the best swimmers, and occasioning
|
||
their being drowned; and imagining this so sudden eclipse
|
||
to be owing to it, the inconceivable fondness this unknown
|
||
lad had given birth to distracted me with the most killing
|
||
terrors; insomuch, that my concern giving the wings, I flew
|
||
to the door, open'd it, ran down to the canal, guided
|
||
thither by the madness of my fears for him, and the intense
|
||
desire of being an instrument to save him, though I was
|
||
ignorant how, or by what means to effect it: but was it for
|
||
fears, and a passion so sudden as mine, to reason? All this
|
||
took up scarce the space of a few moments. I had then just
|
||
life enough to reach the green borders of the waterpiece,
|
||
where wildly looking round for the young man, and missing
|
||
him still, my fright and concern sunk me down in a deep
|
||
swoon, which must have lasted me some time; for I did not
|
||
come to myself till I was rous'd out of it by a sense of
|
||
pain that pierced me to the vitals, and awaked me to the
|
||
most surprising circumstance of finding myself not only in
|
||
the arms of this very same young gentleman I had been so
|
||
solicitous to save, but taken at such an advantage in my
|
||
unresisting condition that he had actually completed his
|
||
entrance into me so far, that weakened as I was by all the
|
||
preceding conflicts of mind I had suffer'd, and struck dumb
|
||
by the violence of my surprise, I had neither the power to
|
||
cry out nor the strength to disengage myself from his stren-
|
||
uous embraces, before, urging his point, he had forced his
|
||
way and completely triumphed over my virginity, as he might
|
||
now as well see by the streams of blood that follow'd his
|
||
drawing out, as he had felt by the difficulties he had met
|
||
with consummating his penetration. But the sight of the
|
||
blood, and the sense of my condition, had (as he told me
|
||
afterwards), since the ungovernable rage of his passion was
|
||
somewhat appeas'd, now wrought so far on him that at all
|
||
risks, even of the worst consequences, he could not find in
|
||
his heart to leave me, and make off, which he might easily
|
||
have done. I still lay all descompos'd in bleeding ruin,
|
||
palpitating, speechless, unable to get off, and frightened,
|
||
and fluttering like a poor wounded partridge, and ready to
|
||
faint away again at the sense of what had befallen me. The
|
||
young gentleman was by me, kneeling, kissing my hand, and
|
||
with tears in his eyes beseeching me to forgive him, and
|
||
offering all the reparation in his power. It is certain
|
||
that could I, at the instant of regaining my senses, have
|
||
called out, or taken the bloodiest revenge, I would not have
|
||
stuck at it: the violation was attended too with such aggra-
|
||
vating circumstances, though he was ignorant of them, since
|
||
it was to my concern for the preservation of his life that I
|
||
owed my ruin.
|
||
|
||
"But how quick is the shift of passions from one extreme
|
||
to another! and how little are they acquainted with the human
|
||
heart who dispute it! I could not see this amiable criminal,
|
||
so suddenly the first object of my love, and as suddenly of
|
||
my just hate, on his knees, bedewing my hand with his tears,
|
||
without relenting. He was still stark-naked, but my modesty
|
||
had been already too much wounded, in essentials, to be so
|
||
much shocked as I should have otherwise been with appearances
|
||
only; in short, my anger ebbed so fast, and the tide of love
|
||
return'd so strong upon me, that I felt it a point of my own
|
||
happiness to forgive him. The reproaches I made him were
|
||
murmur'd in so soft a tone, my eyes met his with such glances,
|
||
expressing more languor than resentment, that he could not
|
||
but presume his forgiveness was at no desperate distance;
|
||
but still he would not quit his posture of submission, till
|
||
I had pronounced his pardon in form; which after the most
|
||
fervent entreaties, protestations, and promises, I had not
|
||
the power to withhold. On which, with the utmost marks of a
|
||
fear of again offending, he ventured to kiss my lips, which
|
||
I neither declined nor resented; but on my mild expostula-
|
||
tions with him upon the barbarity of his treatment, he
|
||
explain'd the mystery of my ruin, if not entirely to the
|
||
clearance, at least much to the alleviation of his guilt, in
|
||
the eyes of a judge so partial in his favour as I was grown.
|
||
|
||
"Its seems that the circumstance of his going down, or
|
||
sinking, which in my extreme ignorance I had mistaken for
|
||
something very fatal, was no other than a trick of diving
|
||
which I had not ever heard, or at least attended to, the
|
||
mention of: and he was so long-breath'd at it, that in the
|
||
few moments in which I ran out to save him, he had not yet
|
||
emerged, before I fell into the swoon, in which, as he rose,
|
||
seeing me extended on the bank, his first idea was that some
|
||
young woman was upon some design of frolic or diversion with
|
||
him, for he knew I could not have fallen a-sleep there with-
|
||
out his having seen me before: agreeably to which notion he
|
||
had ventured to approach, and finding me without sign of life,
|
||
and still perplex'd as he was what to think of the adventure,
|
||
he took me in his arms at all hazards, and carried me into
|
||
the summer-house, of which he observed the door open: there
|
||
he laid me down on the couch, and tried, as he protested in
|
||
good faith, by several means to bring me to myself again,
|
||
till fired, as he said, beyond all bearing by the sight and
|
||
touch of several parts of me which were unguardedly exposed
|
||
to him, he could no longer govern his passion; and the less,
|
||
as he was not quite sure that his first idea of this swoon
|
||
being a feint was not the very truth of the case: seduced
|
||
then by this flattering notion, and overcome by the present,
|
||
as he styled them, superhuman temptations, combined with the
|
||
solitude and seeming security of the attempt, he was not
|
||
enough his own master not to make it. Leaving me then just
|
||
only whilst he fastened the door, he returned with redoubled
|
||
eagerness to his prey: when, finding me still entranced, he
|
||
ventured to place me as he pleased, whilst I felt, no more
|
||
than the dead, what he was about, till the pain he put me to
|
||
roused me just in time enough to be witness of a triumph I
|
||
was not able to defeat, and now scarce regretted: for as he
|
||
talked, the tone of his voice sounded, methought, so sweetly
|
||
in my ears, the sensible nearness of so new and interesting
|
||
an object to me wrought so powerfully upon me, that, in the
|
||
rising perception of things in a new and pleasing light, I
|
||
lost all sense of the past injury. The young gentleman soon
|
||
discern'd the symptoms of a reconciliation in my softened
|
||
looks, and hastening to receive the seal of it from my lips,
|
||
press'd them tenderly to pass his pardon in the return of a
|
||
kiss so melting fiery, that the impression of it being car-
|
||
ried to my heart, and thence to my new-discover'd sphere of
|
||
Venus, I was melted into a softness that could refuse him
|
||
nothing. When now he managed his caresses and endearments
|
||
so artfully as to insinuate the most soothing consolations
|
||
for the past pain and the most pleasing expectations of
|
||
future pleasure, but whilst mere modesty kept my eyes from
|
||
seeing his and rather declined them, I had a glimpse of
|
||
that instrument of the mischief which was now, obviously
|
||
even to me, who had scarce had snatches of a comparative
|
||
observation of it, resuming its capacity to renew it, and
|
||
grew greatly alarming with its increase of size, as he bore
|
||
it no doubt designedly, hard and stiff against one of my
|
||
hands carelessly dropt; but then he employ'd such tender
|
||
prefacing, such winning progressions, that my returning
|
||
passion of desire being now so strongly prompted by the
|
||
engaging circumstances of the sight and incendiary touch of
|
||
his naked glowing beauties, I yielded at length at the
|
||
force of the present impressions, and he obtained of my
|
||
tacit blushing consent all the gratifications of pleasure
|
||
left in the power of my poor person to bestow, after he had
|
||
cropt its richest flower, during my suspension of life and
|
||
abilities to guard it.
|
||
|
||
"Here, according to the rule laid down, I should stop;
|
||
but I am so much in motion, that I could not if I would. I
|
||
shall only add, however, that I got home without the least
|
||
discovery, or suspicion of what had happened. I met my
|
||
young ravisher several times after, whom I now passionately
|
||
lov'd and who, tho' not of age to claim a small but indepen-
|
||
dent fortune, would have married me; but as the accidents
|
||
that prevented it, and their consequences which threw me on
|
||
the publick, contain matters too moving and serious to in-
|
||
troduce at present, I cut short here."
|
||
|
||
Louisa, the brunette whom I mentioned at first, now
|
||
took her turn to treat the company with her history. I have
|
||
already hinted to you the graces of her person, than which
|
||
nothing could be more exquisitely touching; I repeat touch-
|
||
ing, as a just distinction from striking, which is ever a
|
||
less lasting effect, and more generally belongs to the fair
|
||
complexions: but leaving that decision to every one's taste,
|
||
I proceed to give you Louisa's narrative as follows:
|
||
|
||
"According to practical maxims of life, I ought to
|
||
boast of my birth, since I owe it to pure love, without
|
||
marriage; but this I know, it was scarce possible to inherit
|
||
a stronger propensity to that cause of my being than I did.
|
||
I was the rare production of the first essay of a journeyman
|
||
cabinet-maker on his master's maid: the consequence of which
|
||
was a big belly, and the loss of a place. He was not in
|
||
circumstances to do much for her; and yet, after all this
|
||
blemish, she found means, after she had dropt her burthen
|
||
and disposed of me to a poor relation's in the country, to
|
||
repair it by marrying a pastry-cook here in London, in
|
||
thriving business; on whom she soon, under favour of the
|
||
complete ascendant he had given her over him, passed me for
|
||
a child she had by her first husband. I had, on that foot-
|
||
ing, been taken home, and was not six years old when this
|
||
step-father died and left my mother in tolerable circum-
|
||
stances, and without any children by him. As to my natural
|
||
father, he had betaken himself to the sea; where, when the
|
||
truth of things came out, I was told that he died, not
|
||
immensely rich you may think, since he was no more than a
|
||
common sailor. As I grew up, under the eyes of my mother,
|
||
who kept on the business, I could not but see, in her
|
||
severe watchfulness, the marks of a slip which she did not
|
||
care should be hereditary, but we no more choose our pas-
|
||
sions than our features or complexion, and the bent of
|
||
mine was so strong to the forbidden pleasure, that it got
|
||
the better, at length, of all her care and precaution. I
|
||
was scarce twelve years old before that part which she
|
||
wanted so much to keep out of harm's way made me feel its
|
||
impatience to be taken notice of, and come into play: al-
|
||
ready had it put forth the signs of forwardness in the
|
||
sprout of a soft down over it, which had often flatter'd,
|
||
and I might also say, grown under my constant touch and
|
||
visitation, so pleas'd was I with what I took to be a kind
|
||
of title to womanhood, that state I pin'd to be entr'd of,
|
||
for the pleasures I conceiv'd were annexed to it; and now
|
||
the growing importance of that part to me, and the new sen-
|
||
sations in it, demolish'd at once all my girlish playthings
|
||
and amusements. Nature now pointed me strongly to more
|
||
solid diversions, while all the stings of desire settled so
|
||
fiercely in that little centre of them, that I could not
|
||
mistake the spot I wanted a playfellow in.
|
||
|
||
"I now shunn'd all company in which there was no hopes
|
||
of coming at the object of my longings, and used to shut
|
||
myself up, to indulge in solitude some tender meditation on
|
||
the pleasures I strongly perceiv'd the overture of, in feel-
|
||
ing and examining what nature assur'd me must be the chosen
|
||
avenue, the gates for unknown bliss to enter at, that I
|
||
panted after.
|
||
|
||
"But these meditations only increas'd my disorder, and
|
||
blew the fire that consumed me. I was yet worse when, yield-
|
||
ing at length to the insupportable irritations of the little
|
||
fairy charm that tormented me, I seiz'd it with my fingers,
|
||
teasing it to no end. Sometimes, in the furious excitations
|
||
of desire, I threw myself on the bed, spread my thighs
|
||
abroad, and lay as it were expecting the longed-for relief,
|
||
till finding my illusion, I shut and squeez'd them together
|
||
again, burning and fretting. In short, this dev'lish thing,
|
||
with its impetuous girds and itching fires, led me such a
|
||
life that I could neither night nor day be at peace with it
|
||
or myself. In time, however, I thought I had gained a pro-
|
||
digious prize, when figuring to myself that my fingers were
|
||
something of the shape of what I pined for, I worked my way
|
||
in for one of them with great agitation and delight; yet
|
||
not without pain too did I deflower myself as far as it
|
||
could reach; proceeding with such a fury of passion, in
|
||
this solitary and last shift of pleasure, as extended me at
|
||
length breathless on the bed in an amorous melting trance.
|
||
|
||
"But frequency of use dulling the sensation, I soon
|
||
began to perceive that this work was but a paltry shallow
|
||
expedient that went but a little way to relieve me, and
|
||
rather rais'd more flame than its dry and insignificant
|
||
titillation could rightly appease.
|
||
|
||
"Man alone, I almost instinctively knew, as well as by
|
||
what I had industriously picked up at weddings and christen-
|
||
ings, was possess'd of the only remedy that could reduce this
|
||
rebellious disorder; but watch'd and overlook'd as I was, how
|
||
to come at it was the point, and that, to all appearance, an
|
||
invincible one; not that I did not rack my brains and inven-
|
||
tion how at once to elude my mother's vigilance, and procure
|
||
myself the satisfaction of my impetuous curiosity and long-
|
||
ings for this mighty and untasted pleasure. At length, how-
|
||
ever, a singular chance did at once the work of a long course
|
||
of alertness. One day that we had dined at an acquaintance's
|
||
over the way, together with a gentlewoman-lodger that occu-
|
||
pied the first floor of our house, there started an indis-
|
||
pensable necessity for my mother's going down to Greenwich
|
||
to accompany her: the party was settled, when I do not know
|
||
what genius whispered me to plead a headache, which I cer-
|
||
tainly had not, against my being included in a jaunt that I
|
||
had not the least relish for. The pretext however passed,
|
||
and my mother, with much reluctance, prevailed with herself
|
||
to go without me; but took particular care to see me safe
|
||
home, where she consign'd me into the hands of an old
|
||
trusty maid-servant, who served in the shop, for we had not
|
||
a male creature in the house.
|
||
|
||
"As soon as she was gone, I told the maid I would go up
|
||
and lie down on our lodger's bed, mine not being made, with
|
||
a charge to her at the same time not to disturb me, as it
|
||
was only rest I wanted. This injunction probably prov'd of
|
||
eminent service to me. As soon as I was got into the bed-
|
||
chamber, I unlaced my stays, and threw myself on the outside
|
||
of the bed-cloaths, in all the loosest undress. Here I gave
|
||
myself up to the old insipid privy shifts of my self-viewing,
|
||
self-touching, self-enjoying, in fine, to all the means of
|
||
self-knowledge I could devise, in search of the pleasure that
|
||
fled before me, and tantalized with that unknown something
|
||
that was out of my reach; thus all only serv'd to enflame
|
||
myself, and to provoke violently my desires, whilst the one
|
||
thing needful to their satisfaction was not at hand, and I
|
||
could have bit my fingers, for representing it so ill. After
|
||
then wearying and fatiguing myself with grasping shadows,
|
||
whilst that most sensible part of me disdain'd to content
|
||
itself with less than realities, the strong yearnings, the
|
||
urgent struggles of nature towards the melting relief, and
|
||
the extreme self-agitations I had used to come at it, had
|
||
wearied and thrown me into a kind of unquiet sleep: for, if
|
||
I tossed and threw about my limbs in proportion to the dis-
|
||
traction of my dreams, as I had reason to believe I did, a
|
||
bystander could not have help'd seeing all for love. And
|
||
one there was it seems; for waking out of my very short
|
||
slumber, I found my hand lock'd in that of a young man, who
|
||
was kneeling at my bed-side, and begging my pardon for his
|
||
boldness: but that being a son to the lady to whom this bed-
|
||
chamber, he knew, belonged, he had slipp'd by the servant of
|
||
the shop, as he supposed, unperceiv'd, when finding me asleep,
|
||
his first ideas were to withdraw; but that he had been fix'd
|
||
and detain'd there by a power he could better account for
|
||
than resist.
|
||
|
||
"What shall I say? my emotions of fear and surprize
|
||
were instantly subdued by those of the pleasure I bespoke
|
||
in great presence of mind from the turn this adventure might
|
||
take. He seem'd to me no other than a pitying angel, dropt
|
||
out of the clouds: for he was young and perfectly handsome,
|
||
which was more than even I had asked for; man, in general,
|
||
being all that my utmost desires had pointed at. I thought
|
||
then I could not put too much encouragement into my eyes and
|
||
voice; I regretted no leading advances; no matter for his
|
||
after-opinion of my forwardness, so it might bring him to
|
||
the point of answering my pressing demands of present case;
|
||
it was not now with his thoughts, but his actions, that my
|
||
business immediately lay. I rais'd then my head, and told
|
||
him, in a soft tone that tended to prescribe the same key to
|
||
him, that his mamma was gone out and would not return till
|
||
late at night: which I thought no bad hint; but as it prov'd,
|
||
I had nothing of a novice to deal with. The impressions I
|
||
had made on him from the discoveries I had betrayed of my
|
||
person in the disordered motions of it, during his view of
|
||
me asleep, had, as he afterwards told me, so fix'd and charm-
|
||
ingly prepar'd him, that, had I known his dispositions, I
|
||
had more to hope from his violence than to fear from his
|
||
respect; and even less than the extreme tenderness which I
|
||
threw into my voice and eyes, would have served to encourage
|
||
him to make the most of the opportunity. Finding then that
|
||
his kisses, imprinted on my hand, were taken as tamely as he
|
||
could wish, he rose to my lips; and glewing his to them, made
|
||
me so faint with over-coming joy and pleasure that I fell
|
||
back, and he with me, in course, on the bed, upon which I
|
||
had, by insensibly shifting from the side to near the middle,
|
||
invitingly made room for him. He is now lain down by me,
|
||
and the minutes being too precious to consume in untimely
|
||
ceremony, or dalliance, my youth proceeds immediately to
|
||
those extremities, which all my looks, flushing and palpi-
|
||
tations had assured him he might attempt without the fear of
|
||
repulse: those rogues, the men, read us admirably on these
|
||
occasions. I lay then at length panting for the imminent
|
||
attack, with wishes far beyond my fears, and for which it
|
||
was scarce possible for a girl, barely thirteen, but all and
|
||
well grown, to have better dispositions. He threw up my
|
||
petticoat and shift, whilst my thighs were, by an instinct
|
||
of nature, unfolded to their best; and my desires had so
|
||
thoroughly destroy'd all modesty in me, that even their
|
||
being now naked and all laid open to him, was part of the
|
||
prelude that pleasure deepen'd my blushes at, more than
|
||
shame. But when his hand, and touches, naturally attracted
|
||
to their centre, made me feel all their wantonness and
|
||
warmth in, and round it, oh! how immensely different a
|
||
sense of things did I perceive there, than when under my
|
||
own insipid handling! And now his waistcoat was unbuttoned,
|
||
and the confinement of the breeches burst through, when out
|
||
started to view the amazing, pleasing object of all my
|
||
wishes, all my dreams, all my love, the king member indeed!
|
||
I gaz'd at, I devoured it, at length and breadth, with my
|
||
eyes intently directed to it, till his getting upon me, and
|
||
placing it between my thighs, took from me the enjoyment of
|
||
its sight, to give me a far more grateful one in its touch,
|
||
in that part where its touch is so exquisitely affecting.
|
||
Applying it then to the minute opening, for such at that age
|
||
it certainly was, I met with too much good will, I felt with
|
||
too great a rapture of pleasure the first insertion of it,
|
||
to heed much the pain that followed: I thought nothing too
|
||
dear to pay for this the richest treat of the senses; so
|
||
that, split up, torn, bleeding, mangled, I was still supe-
|
||
riorly pleas'd, and hugg'd the author of all this delicious
|
||
ruin. But when, soon after, he made his second attack, sore
|
||
as every thing was, the smart was soon put away by the sove-
|
||
reign cordial; all my soft complainings were silenc'd, and
|
||
the pain melting fast away into pleasure. I abandon'd myself
|
||
over to all its transports, and gave it the full possession
|
||
of my whole body and soul; for now all thought was at an end
|
||
with me; I lived but in what I felt only. And who could
|
||
describe those feelings, those agitations, yet exalted by
|
||
the charm of their novelty and surprize? when that part of
|
||
me which had so long hunger'd for the dear morsel that now
|
||
so delightfully crammed it, forc'd all my vital sensations
|
||
to fix their home there, during the stay of my beloved guest;
|
||
who too soon paid me for his hearty welcome in a dissolvent,
|
||
richer far than that I have heard of some queen treating her
|
||
paramour with, in liquify'd pearl, and ravishingly pour'd
|
||
into me, where, now myself too much melted to give it a dry
|
||
reception, I hail'd it with the warmest confluence on my
|
||
side, amidst all those extatic raptures, not unfamiliar I
|
||
presume to this good company! Thus, however, I arrived at
|
||
the very top of all my wishes, by an accident unexpected
|
||
indeed, but not so wonderful; for this young gentleman was
|
||
just arriv'd in town from college, and came familiarly to
|
||
his mother at her apartment, where he had once before been,
|
||
though by mere chance. I had not seen him: so that we knew
|
||
one another by hear-say only; and finding me stretched on
|
||
his mother's bed, he readily concluded, from her descrip-
|
||
tion who it was. The rest you know.
|
||
|
||
"This affair had however no ruinous consequences, the
|
||
young gentleman escaping then, and many more times undis-
|
||
cover'd. But the warmth of my constitution, that made the
|
||
pleasures of love a kind of necessary of life to me, having
|
||
betray'd me into indiscretions fatal to my private fortune,
|
||
I fell at length to the publick; from which, it is probable,
|
||
I might have met with the worst of ruin if my better fate
|
||
had not thrown me into this safe and agreeable refuge."
|
||
|
||
Here Louisa ended; and these little histories having
|
||
brought the time for the girls to retire, and to prepare
|
||
for the revels of the evening, I staid with Mrs. Cole till
|
||
Emily came and told us the company was met, and waited for
|
||
us.
|
||
|
||
Part 7
|
||
|
||
On the landing-place of the first pair of stairs, we
|
||
were met by a young gentleman, extremely well dress'd, and a
|
||
very pretty figure, to whom I was to be indebted for the
|
||
first essay of the pleasures of the house. He saluted me
|
||
with great gallantry, and handed me into the drawing room,
|
||
the floor of which was overspread with a Turkey carpet, and
|
||
all its furniture voluptuously adapted to every demand of
|
||
the most study'd luxury; now too it was, by means of a pro-
|
||
fuse illumination, enliven'd by a light scarce inferior, and
|
||
perhaps more favourable to joy, more tenderly pleasing, than
|
||
that of broad sun-shine.
|
||
|
||
On my entrance into the room, I had the satisfaction to
|
||
hear a buzz of approbation run through the whole company
|
||
which now consisted of four gentlemen, including my parti-
|
||
cular (this was the cant-term of the house for one's gallant
|
||
for the time), the three young women, in a neat flowing
|
||
dishabille, the mistress of the academy, and myself. I was
|
||
welcomed and saluted by a kiss all round, in which, however,
|
||
it was easy to discover, in the superior warmth of that of
|
||
the men, the distinction of the sexes.
|
||
|
||
Aw'd and confounded as I was at seeing myself sur-
|
||
rounded, caress'd, and made court to by so many strangers,
|
||
I could not immediately familiarize myself to all that air
|
||
of gaiety and joy which dictated their compliments, and
|
||
animated their caresses.
|
||
|
||
They assur'd me that I was so perfectly to their taste
|
||
as to have but one fault against me, which I might easily be
|
||
cur'd of, and that was my modesty: this, they observ'd, might
|
||
pass for a beauty the more with those who wanted it for a
|
||
heightener; but their maxim was, that it was an impertinent
|
||
mixture, and dash'd the cup so as to spoil the sincere draught
|
||
of pleasure; they consider'd it accordingly as their mortal
|
||
enemy, and gave it no quarter wherever they met with it.
|
||
This was a prologue not unworthy of the revels that ensu'd.
|
||
|
||
In the midst of all the frolic and wantonnesses, which
|
||
this joyous band had presently, and all naturally, run into,
|
||
an elegant supper was serv'd in, and we sat down to it, my
|
||
spark-elect placing himself next to me, and the other couples
|
||
without order or ceremony. The delicate cheer and good wine
|
||
soon banish'd all reserve; the conversation grew as lively
|
||
as could be wished, without taking too loose a turn: these
|
||
professors of pleasure knew too well, to stale impressions
|
||
of it, or evaporate the imagination in words, before the time
|
||
of action. Kisses however were snatch'd at times, or where a
|
||
handkerchief round the neck interpos'd its feeble barrier, it
|
||
was not extremely respected: the hands of the men went to
|
||
work with their usual petulance, till the provocations on
|
||
both sides rose to such a pitch that my particular's proposal
|
||
for beginning the country-dances was received with instant
|
||
assent: for, as he laughingly added, he fancied the instru-
|
||
ments were in tune. This was a signal for preparation, that
|
||
the complaisant Mrs. Cole, who understood life, took for her
|
||
cue of disappearing; no longer so fit for personal service
|
||
herself, and content with having settled the order of battle,
|
||
she left us the field, to fight it out at discretion.
|
||
|
||
As soon as she was gone, the table was remov'd form the
|
||
middle, and became a side-board; a couch was brought into
|
||
its place, of which when I whisperingly inquired the reason,
|
||
of my particular, he told me that as it was chiefly on my
|
||
account that this convention was met, the parties intended
|
||
at once to humour their taste of variety in pleasures, and
|
||
by an open publick enjoyment, to see me broke of any taint
|
||
of reserve or modesty, which they look'd on as the poison
|
||
of joy; that though they occasionally preached pleasure,
|
||
and lived up to the text, they did not enthusiastically set
|
||
up for missionaries, and only indulg'd themselves in the
|
||
delights of a practical instruction of all the pretty women
|
||
they lik'd well enough to bestow it upon, and who fell pro-
|
||
perly in the way of it; but that as such a proposal might
|
||
be too violent, too shocking for a young beginner, the old
|
||
standers were to set an example, which he hoped I would not
|
||
be averse to follow, since it was to him I was devolv'd in
|
||
favour of the first experiment; but that still I was per-
|
||
fectly at my liberty to refuse the party, which being in its
|
||
nature one of pleasure, suppos'd an exclusion of all force
|
||
or constraint.
|
||
|
||
My countenance expressed, no doubt, my surprise as my
|
||
silence did my acquiescence. I was now embarked, and
|
||
thoroughly determined on any voyage the company would take
|
||
me on.
|
||
|
||
The first that stood up, to open the ball, were a cor-
|
||
net of horse, and that sweetest of olive-beauties, the soft
|
||
and amorous Louisa. He led her to the couch "nothing loth,"
|
||
on which he gave her the fall, and extended her at her
|
||
length with an air of roughness and vigour, relishing high
|
||
of amorous eagerness and impatience. The girl, spreading
|
||
herself to the best advantage, with her head upon the pillow,
|
||
was so concentred in what she was about, that our presence
|
||
seemed the least of her care and concern. Her petticoats,
|
||
thrown up with her shift, discovered to the company the
|
||
finest turn'd legs and thighs that could be imagined, and in
|
||
broad display, that gave us a full view of that delicious
|
||
cleft of flesh into which the pleasing hair-grown mount over
|
||
it, parted and presented a most inviting entrance between
|
||
two close-hedges, delicately soft and pouting. Her gallant
|
||
was now ready, having disencumber'd himself from his cloaths,
|
||
overloaded with lace, and presently, his shirt removed, shew'd
|
||
us his forces in high plight, bandied and ready for action.
|
||
But giving us no time to consider the dimensions, he threw
|
||
himself instantly over his charming antagonist, who receiv'd
|
||
him as he pushed at once dead at mark like a heroine, without
|
||
flinching; for surely never was girl constitutionally truer
|
||
to the taste of joy, or sincerer in the expressions of its
|
||
sensations, than she was: we could observe pleasure lighten
|
||
in her eyes, as he introduc'd his plenipotentiary instrument
|
||
into her; till, at length, having indulg'd her to its utmost
|
||
reach, its irritations grew so violent, and gave her the
|
||
spurs so furiously, that collected within herself, and lost
|
||
to everything but the enjoyment of her favourite feelings,
|
||
she retorted his thrusts with a just concert of springy
|
||
heaves, keeping time so exactly with the most pathetic sighs,
|
||
that one might have number'd the strokes in agitation by
|
||
their distinct murmurs, whilst her active limbs kept wreath-
|
||
ing and intertwisting with his, in convulsive folds: then
|
||
the turtle-billing kisses, and the poignant painless love-
|
||
bites, which they both exchang'd in a rage of delight, all
|
||
conspiring towards the melting period. It soon came on when
|
||
Louisa, in the ravings of her pleasure-frenzy, impotent of
|
||
all restraint, cried out: "Oh Sir! . . . Good Sir! . . .
|
||
pray do not spare me! ah! ah! . . ." All her accents now
|
||
faltering into heart-fetched sighs, she clos'd her eyes in
|
||
the sweet death, in the instant of which she was embalm'd by
|
||
an injection, of which we could easily see the signs in the
|
||
quiet, dying, languid posture of her late so furious driver,
|
||
who was stopp'd of a sudden, breathing short, panting, and,
|
||
for the time, giving up the spirit of pleasure. As soon as
|
||
he was dismounted, Louisa sprung up, shook her petticoats,
|
||
and running up to me, gave me a kiss and drew me to the
|
||
side-board, to which she was herself handed by her gallant,
|
||
where they made me pledge them in a glass of wine, and toast
|
||
a droll health of Louisa's proposal in high frolic.
|
||
|
||
By this time the second couple was ready to enter the
|
||
lists: which were a young baronet, and that delicatest of
|
||
charmers, the winning, tender Harriet. My gentle esquire
|
||
came to acquaint me with it, and brought me back to the
|
||
scene of action.
|
||
|
||
And, surely, never did one of her profession accompany
|
||
her dispositions for the bare-faced part she was engaged to
|
||
play with such a peculiar grace of sweetness, modesty and
|
||
yielding coyness, as she did. All her air and motions
|
||
breath'd only unreserv'd, unlimited complaisance without the
|
||
least mixture of impudence, or prostitution. But what was
|
||
yet more surprising, her spark-elect, in the midst of the
|
||
dissolution of a publick open enjoyment, doted on her to dis-
|
||
traction, and had, by dint of love and sentiments, touched
|
||
her heart, tho' for a while the restraint of their engagement
|
||
to the house laid him under a kind of necessity of complying
|
||
with an institution which himself had had the greatest share
|
||
in establishing.
|
||
|
||
Harriet was then led to the vacant couch by her gallant,
|
||
blushing as she look'd at me, and with eyes made to justify
|
||
any thing, tenderly bespeaking of me the most favourable
|
||
construction of the step she was thus irresistibly drawn
|
||
into.
|
||
|
||
Her lover, for such he was, sat her down at the foot of
|
||
the couch, and passing his arm round her neck, preluded with
|
||
a kiss fervently applied to her lips, that visibly gave her
|
||
life and spirit to go thro' with the scene; and as he kiss'd,
|
||
he gently inclined her head, till it fell back on a pillow
|
||
disposed to receive it, and leaning himself down all the way
|
||
with her, at once countenanc'd and endear'd her fall to her.
|
||
There, as if he had guess'd our wishes, or meant to gratify
|
||
at once his pleasure and his pride, in being the master, by
|
||
the title of present possession, of beauties delicate beyond
|
||
imagination, he discovered her breasts to his own touch, and
|
||
our common view; but oh! what delicious manuals of love
|
||
devotion! how inimitable fine moulded! small, round, firm,
|
||
and excellently white: the grain of their skin, so soothing,
|
||
so flattering to the touch! and their nipples, that crown'd
|
||
them, the sweetest buds of beauty. When he had feasted his
|
||
eyes with the touch and perusal, feasted his lips with kisses
|
||
of the highest relish, imprinted on those all-delicious twin
|
||
orbs, the proceeded downwards.
|
||
|
||
Her legs still kept the ground; and now, with the ten-
|
||
derest attention not to shock or alarm her too suddenly, he,
|
||
by degrees, rather stole than rolled up her petticoats; at
|
||
which, as if a signal had been given, Louisa and Emily took
|
||
hold of her legs, in pure wantonness, and, in ease to her,
|
||
kept them stretched wide abroad. Then lay exposed, or, to
|
||
speak more properly, display'd the greatest parade in nature
|
||
of female charms. The whole company, who, except myself,
|
||
had often seen them, seemed as much dazzled, surpriz'd and
|
||
delighted, as any one could be who had now beheld them for
|
||
the first time. Beauties so excessive could not but enjoy
|
||
the privileges of eternal novelty. Her thighs were so ex-
|
||
quisitely fashioned, that either more in, or more out of
|
||
flesh than they were, they would have declined from that
|
||
point of perfection they presented. But what infinitely
|
||
enrich'd and adorn'd them, was the sweet intersection formed,
|
||
where they met, at the bottom of the smoothest, roundest,
|
||
whitest belly, by that central furrow which nature had sunk
|
||
there, between, the soft relieve of two pouting ridges, and
|
||
which in this was in perfect symmetry of delicacy and minia-
|
||
ture with the rest of her frame. No! nothing in nature could
|
||
be of a beautifuller cut; then, the dark umbrage of the downy
|
||
spring-moss that over-arched it bestowed, on the luxury of
|
||
the landscape, a touching warmth, a tender finishing, beyond
|
||
the expression of words, or even the paint of thought.
|
||
|
||
Her truly enamour'd gallant, who had stood absorbed and
|
||
engrossed by the pleasure of the sight long enough to afford
|
||
us time to feast ours (no fear of glutting!) addressed him-
|
||
self at length to the materials of enjoyment, and lifting
|
||
the linen veil that hung between us and his master member of
|
||
the revels, exhibited one whose eminent size proclaimed the
|
||
owner a true woman's hero. He was, besides, in every other
|
||
respect an accomplish'd gentleman, and in the bloom and
|
||
vigour of youth. Standing then between Harriet's legs, which
|
||
were supported by her two companions at their widest exten-
|
||
sion, with one hand he gently disclosed the lips of that
|
||
luscious mouth of nature, whilst with the other, he stooped
|
||
his mighty machine to its lure, from the height of his stiff
|
||
stand-up towards his belly; the lips, kept open by his fin-
|
||
gers, received its broad shelving head of coral hue: and
|
||
when he had nestled it in, he hovered there a little, and
|
||
the girls then deliver'd over to his hips the agreeable
|
||
office of supporting her thighs; and now, as if meant to spin
|
||
out his pleasure, and give it the more play for its life, he
|
||
passed up his instrument so slow that we lost sight of it
|
||
inch by inch, till at length it was wholly taken into the
|
||
soft laboratory of love, and the mossy mounts of each fairly
|
||
met together. In the mean time, we could plainly mark the
|
||
prodigious effect the progressions of this delightful energy
|
||
wrought in this delicious girl, gradually heightening her
|
||
beauty as they heightened her pleasure. Her countenance and
|
||
whole frame grew more animated; the faint blush of her cheeks,
|
||
gaining ground on the white, deepened into a florid vivid
|
||
vermilion glow, her naturally brilliant eyes now sparkled
|
||
with ten-fold lustre; her languor was vanish'd, and she
|
||
appeared, quick spirited, and alive all over. He now fixed,
|
||
nailed, this tender creature with his home-driven wedge, so
|
||
that she lay passive by force, and unable to stir, till
|
||
beginning to play a strain of arms against this vein of
|
||
delicacy, as he urged the to-and-fro confriction, he awaken'd,
|
||
rous'd, and touch'd her so to the heart, that unable to
|
||
contain herself, she could not but reply to his motions as
|
||
briskly as her nicety of frame would admit of, till the
|
||
raging stings of the pleasure rising towards the point, made
|
||
her wild with the intolerable sensations of it, and she now
|
||
threw her legs and arms about at random, as she lay lost in
|
||
the sweet transport; which on his side declared itself by
|
||
quicker, eager thrusts, convulsive gasps, burning sighs,
|
||
swift laborious breathings, eyes darting humid fires: all
|
||
faithful tokens of the imminent approaches of the last gasp
|
||
of joy. It came on at length: the baronet led the extasy,
|
||
which she critically joined in, as she felt the melting
|
||
symptoms from him, in the nick of which glewing more ardently
|
||
than ever his lips to hers, he shewed all the signs of that
|
||
agony of bliss being strong upon him, in which he gave her
|
||
the finishing titillation; inly thrill'd with which, we saw
|
||
plainly that she answered it down with all effusion of spirit
|
||
and matter she was mistress of, whilst a general soft shudder
|
||
ran through all her limbs, which she gave a stretch-out of,
|
||
and lay motionless, breathless, dying with dear delight; and
|
||
in the height of its expression, shewing, through the nearly
|
||
closed lids of her eyes, just the edges of their black, the
|
||
rest being rolled strongly upwards in their extasy; then her
|
||
sweet mouth appear'd languishingly open, with the tip of her
|
||
tongue leaning negligently towards the lower range of her
|
||
white teeth, whilst the natural ruby colour of her lips
|
||
glowed with heightened life. Was not this a subject to
|
||
dwell upon? And accordingly her lover still kept on her,
|
||
with an abiding delectation, till compressed, squeezed and
|
||
distilled to the last drop, he took leave with one fervent
|
||
kiss, expressing satisfy'd desires, but unextinguish'd love.
|
||
|
||
As soon as he was off, I ran to her, and sitting down
|
||
on the couch by her, rais'd her head, which she declin'd
|
||
gently, and hung on my bosom, to hide her blushes and con-
|
||
fusion at what had pass'd, till by degrees she recomposed
|
||
herself and accepted of a restorative glass of wine from my
|
||
spark, who had left me to fetch it her, whilst her own was
|
||
re-adjusting his affairs and buttoning up; after which he
|
||
led her, leaning languishingly upon him, to our stand of
|
||
view round the couch.
|
||
|
||
And now Emily's partner had taken her out for her
|
||
share in the dance, when this transcendently fair and sweet
|
||
tempered creature readily stood up; and if a complexion to
|
||
put the rose and lily out of countenance, extreme pretty
|
||
features, and that florid health and bloom for which the
|
||
country-girls are so lovely, might pass her for a beauty,
|
||
this she certainly was, and one ot the most striking of the
|
||
fair ones.
|
||
|
||
Her gallant began first, as she stood, to disengage her
|
||
breasts, and restore them to the liberty of nature, from the
|
||
easy confinement of no more than a pair of jumps; but on
|
||
their coming out to view, we thought a new light was added
|
||
to the room, so superiourly shining was their whiteness;
|
||
then they rose in so happy a swell as to compose her a well-
|
||
formed fulness of bosom, that had such an effect on the eye
|
||
as to seem flesh hardening into marble, of which it emulated
|
||
the polished gloss, and far surpassed even the whitest, in
|
||
the life and lustre of its colours, white veined with blue.
|
||
Refrain who could from such provoking enticements to it in
|
||
reach? He touched her breasts, first lightly, when the
|
||
glossy smoothness of the skin eluded his hand, and made it
|
||
slip along the surface; he press'd them, and the springy
|
||
flesh that filled them thus pitted by force, rose again
|
||
reboundingly with his hand, and on the instant effac'd the
|
||
pressure: and alike indeed was the consistence of all those
|
||
parts of her body throughout, where the fulness of flesh
|
||
compacts and constitutes all that fine firmness which the
|
||
touch is so highly attach'd to. When he had thus largely
|
||
pleased himself with this branch of dalliance and delight,
|
||
he truss'd up her petticoat and shift in a wisp to her waist,
|
||
where being tuck'd in, she stood fairly naked on every side;
|
||
a blush at this overspread her lovely face, and her eyes down
|
||
cast to the ground seemed to be for quarter, when she had so
|
||
great a right to triumph in all the treasures of youth and
|
||
beauty that she now so victoriously display'd. Her legs were
|
||
perfectly well shaped and her thighs, which she kept pretty
|
||
close, shewed so white, so round, so substantial and abound-
|
||
ing in firm flesh, that nothing could offer a stronger recom-
|
||
mendation to the luxury of the touch, which he accordingly
|
||
did not fail to indulge himself in. Then gently removing her
|
||
hand, which in the first emotion of natural modesty she had
|
||
carried thither, he gave us rather a glimpse than a view of
|
||
that soft narrow chink running its little length downwards
|
||
and hiding the remains of it between her thighs; but plain
|
||
was to be seen the fringe of light-brown curls, in beauteous
|
||
growth over it, that with their silky gloss created a pleas-
|
||
ing variety from the surrounding white, whose lustre too,
|
||
their gentle embrowning shade, considerably raised. Her
|
||
spark then endeavoured, as she stood, by disclosing her
|
||
thighs, to gain us a completer sight of that central charm
|
||
of attraction, but not obtaining it so conveniently in that
|
||
attitude, he led her to the foot of the couch, and bringing
|
||
to it one of the pillows, gently inclin'd her head down, so
|
||
that as she leaned with it over her crossed hands, strad-
|
||
dling with her thighs wide spread, and jutting her body out,
|
||
she presented a full back view of her person, naked to the
|
||
waist. Her posteriours, plump, smooth, and prominent,
|
||
form'd luxuriant tracts of animated snow, that splendidly
|
||
filled the eye, till it was commanded down the parting or
|
||
separation of those exquisitely white cliffs, by their
|
||
narrow vale, and was there stopt, and attracted by the em-
|
||
bowered bottom-cavity, that terminated this delightful
|
||
vista and stood moderately gaping from the influence of her
|
||
bended posture, so that the agreeable, interior red of the
|
||
sides of the orifice came into view, and with respect to
|
||
the white that dazzled round it, gave somewhat the idea of
|
||
a pink slash in the glossiest white satin. Her gallant,
|
||
who was a gentleman about thirty, somewhat inclin'd to a
|
||
fatness that was in no sort displeasing, improving the hint
|
||
thus tendered him of this mode of enjoyment, after settling
|
||
her well in this posture, and encouraging her with kisses
|
||
and caresses to stand him through, drew out his affair ready
|
||
erected, and whose extreme length, rather disproportion'd to
|
||
its breadth, was the more surprizing, as that excess is not
|
||
often the case with those of his corpulent habit; making
|
||
then the right and direct application, he drove it up to the
|
||
guard, whilst the round bulge of those Turkish beauties of
|
||
her's tallying with the hollow made with the bent of his
|
||
belly and thighs, as they curved inwards, brought all those
|
||
parts, surely not undelightfully, into warm touch, and close
|
||
conjunction; his hands he kept passing round her body, and
|
||
employed in toying with her enchanting breasts. As soon too
|
||
as she felt him at home as he could reach, she lifted her
|
||
head a little from the pillow, and turning her neck, without
|
||
much straining, but her cheeks glowing with the deepest scar-
|
||
let, and a smile of the tenderest satisfaction, met the kiss
|
||
he press'd forward to give her as they were thus close joined
|
||
together: when leaving him to pursue his delights, she hid
|
||
again her face and blushes with her hands and pillow, and
|
||
thus stood passively and as favourably too as she could,
|
||
whilst he kept laying at her with repeated thrusts and making
|
||
the meeting flesh on both sides resound again with the vio-
|
||
lence of them; then ever as he backen'd from her, we could
|
||
see between them part of his long whitestaff foamingly in
|
||
motion, till, as he went on again and closed with her, the
|
||
interposing hillocks took it out of sight. Sometimes he took
|
||
his hands from the semi-globes of her bosoms, and transferred
|
||
the pressure of them to those larger ones, the present sub-
|
||
jects of his soft blockade, which he squeez'd, grasp'd and
|
||
play'd with, till at length a pursuit of driving, so hotly
|
||
urged, brought on the height of the fit, with such overpower-
|
||
ing pleasure, that his fair partner became, now necessary to
|
||
support him, panting, fainting and dying as he discharged;
|
||
which she no sooner felt the killing sweetness of, than un-
|
||
able to keep her legs, and yielding to the mighty intoxica-
|
||
tion, she reeled, and falling forward on the couch, made it
|
||
a necessity for him, if he would preserve the warm pleasure-
|
||
hold, to fall upon her, where they perfected, in a continued
|
||
conjunction of body and extatic flow, their scheme of joys
|
||
for that time.
|
||
|
||
As soon as he had disengag'd, the charming Emily got up,
|
||
and we crowded round her with congratulations and other offi-
|
||
cious little services; for it is to be noted, that though all
|
||
modesty and reserve were banished from the transaction of
|
||
these pleasures, good manners and politeness were inviolably
|
||
observ'd: here was no gross ribaldry, no offensive or rude
|
||
behaviour, or ungenerous reproaches to the girls for their
|
||
compliance with the humours and desires of the men. On the
|
||
contrary, nothing was wanting to soothe, encourage, and
|
||
soften the sense of their condition to them. Men know not
|
||
in general how much they destroy of their own pleasure, when
|
||
they break through the respect and tenderness due to our sex,
|
||
and even to those of it who live only by pleasing them. And
|
||
this was a maxim perfectly well understood by these polite
|
||
voluptuaries, these profound adepts in the great art and sci-
|
||
ence of pleasure, who never shew'd these votaries of theirs a
|
||
more tender respect than at the time of those exercises of
|
||
their complaisance, when they unlock'd their treasures of
|
||
concealed beauty, and shewed out in the pride of their native
|
||
charms, ever-more touching surely than when they paraded it
|
||
in the artificial ones of dress and ornament.
|
||
|
||
The frolick was now come round to me, and it being my
|
||
turn of subscription to the will and pleasure of my particu-
|
||
lar elect, as well as to that of the company, he came to me,
|
||
and saluting me very tenderly, with a flattering eagerness,
|
||
put me in mind of the compliances my presence there author-
|
||
iz'd the hopes of, and at the same time repeated to me that
|
||
if all this force of example had not surmounted any repug-
|
||
nance I might have to concur with the humours and desires of
|
||
the company, that though the play was bespoke for my benefit,
|
||
and great as his own private disappointment might be, he
|
||
would suffer any thing, sooner than be the instrument of im-
|
||
posing a disagreeable task on me.
|
||
|
||
To this I answered, without the least hesitation or
|
||
mincing grimace, that had I not even contracted a kind of
|
||
engagement to be at his disposal without the least reserve,
|
||
the example of such agreeable companions would alone deter-
|
||
mine me and that I was in no pain about any thing but my
|
||
appearing to so great a disadvantage after such superior
|
||
beauties. And take notice that I thought as I spoke. The
|
||
frankness of the answer pleas'd them all; my particular was
|
||
complimented on his acquisition, and, by way of indirect
|
||
flattery to me, openly envied.
|
||
|
||
Mrs. Cole, by the way, could not have given me a greater
|
||
mark of her regard than in managing for me the choice of this
|
||
young gentleman for my master of the ceremonies: for, inde-
|
||
pendent of his noble birth and the great fortune he was heir
|
||
to, his person was even uncommonly pleasing, well shaped and
|
||
tall; his face mark'd with the small-pox, but no more than
|
||
what added a grace of more manliness to features rather turn-
|
||
ed to softness and delicacy, was marvellously enliven'd by
|
||
eyes which were of the clearest sparkling black; in short, he
|
||
was one whom any woman would, in the familiar style, readily
|
||
call a very pretty fellow.
|
||
|
||
I was now handed by him to the cock-pit of our match,
|
||
where, as I was dressed in nothing but a white morning gown,
|
||
he vouchsafed to play the male-Abigail on this occasion, and
|
||
spared me the confusion that would have attended the forward-
|
||
ness of undressing myself: my gown then was loosen'd in a
|
||
trice, and I divested of it; my stay next offered an obstacle
|
||
which readily gave way, Louisa very readily furnishing a pair
|
||
of scissors to cut the lace; off went that shell and dropping
|
||
my upper-coat, I was reduced to my under one and my shift,
|
||
the open bosom of which gave the hands and eyes all the lib-
|
||
erty they could wish. Here I imagin'd the stripping was to
|
||
stop, but I reckoned short: my spark, at the desire of the
|
||
rest, tenderly begged that I would not suffer the small re-
|
||
mains of a covering to rob them of a full view of my whole
|
||
person; and for me, who was too flexibly obsequious to dis-
|
||
pute any point with them, and who considered the little more
|
||
that remain'd as very immaterial, I readily assented to what-
|
||
ever he pleased. In an instant, then, my under-petticoat was
|
||
untied and at my feet, and my shift drawn over my head, so
|
||
that my cap, slightly fasten'd, came off with it, and brought
|
||
all my hair down (of which, be it again remembered without
|
||
vanity, that I had a very fine head) in loose disorderly ring-
|
||
lets, over my neck and shoulders, to the not unfavourable
|
||
set-off of my skin.
|
||
|
||
I now stood before my judges in all the truth of nature,
|
||
to whom I could not appear a very disagreeable figure, if you
|
||
please to recollect what I have before said of my person,
|
||
which time, that at certain periods of life robs us every
|
||
instant of our charms, had, at that of mine, then greatly
|
||
improved into full and open bloom, for I wanted some months
|
||
of eighteen. My breasts, which in the state of nudity are
|
||
ever capital points, now in no more than in graceful pleni-
|
||
tude, maintained a firmness and steady independence of any
|
||
stay or support that dared and invited the test of the touch.
|
||
Then I was as tall, as slim-shaped as could be consistent
|
||
with all that juicy plumpness of flesh, ever the most grate-
|
||
ful to the senses of sight and touch, which I owed to the
|
||
health and youth of my constitution. I had not, however, so
|
||
thoroughly renounc'd all innate shame as not to suffer great
|
||
confusion at the state I saw myself in; but the whole troop
|
||
round me, men and women, relieved me with every mark of ap-
|
||
plause and satisfaction, every flattering attention to raise
|
||
and inspire me with even sentiments of pride on the figure I
|
||
made, which, my friend gallantly protested, infinitely out-
|
||
shone all other birthday finery whatever; so that had I leave
|
||
to set down, for sincere, all the compliments these connois-
|
||
seurs overwhelmed me with upon this occasion, I might flatter
|
||
myself with having pass'd my examination with the approbation
|
||
of the learned.
|
||
|
||
My friend however, who for this time had alone the dis-
|
||
posal of me, humoured their curiosity, and perhaps his own,
|
||
so far that he placed me in all the variety of postures and
|
||
lights imaginable, pointing out every beauty under every as-
|
||
pect of it, not without such parentheses of kisses, such in-
|
||
flammatory liberties of his roving hands, as made all shame
|
||
fly before them, and a blushing glow give place to a warmer
|
||
one of desire, which led me even to find some relish in the
|
||
present scene.
|
||
|
||
But in this general survey, you may be sure, the most
|
||
material spot of me was not excus'd the strictest visitation;
|
||
nor was it but agreed, that I had not the least reason to be
|
||
diffident of passing even for a maid, on occasion: so incon-
|
||
siderable a flaw had my preceding adventures created there,
|
||
and so soon had the blemish of an over-stretch been repaired
|
||
and worn out at my age, and in my naturally small make in
|
||
that part.
|
||
|
||
Now, whether my partner had exhausted all the modes of
|
||
regaling the touch or sight, or whether he was now ungovern-
|
||
ably wound up to strike, I know not; but briskly throwing off
|
||
his clothes, the prodigious heat bred by a close room, a
|
||
great fire, numerous candles, and even the inflammatory
|
||
warmth of these scenes, induced him to lay aside his shirt
|
||
too, when his breeches, before loosen'd, now gave up their
|
||
contents to view, and shew'd in front the enemy I had to en-
|
||
gage with, stiffly bearing up the port of its head unhooded,
|
||
and glowing red. Then I plainly saw what I had to trust to:
|
||
it was one of those just true-siz'd instruments, of which
|
||
the masters have a better command than the more unwieldy,
|
||
inordinate siz'd ones are generally under. Straining me
|
||
then close to his bosom, as he stood up fore-right against
|
||
me and applying to the obvious niche its peculiar idol, he
|
||
aimed at inserting it, which, as I forwardly favoured, he
|
||
effected at once by canting up my thighs over his naked hips,
|
||
and made me receive every inch, and close home; so that stuck
|
||
upon the pleasure-pivot, and clinging round his neck, in
|
||
which and in his hair I hid my face, burningly flushing with
|
||
my present feelings as much as with shame, my bosom glew'd to
|
||
his; he carried me once round the couch, on which he then,
|
||
without quitting the middle-fastness, or dischannelling, laid
|
||
me down, and began the pleasure-grist. But so provokingly
|
||
predisposed and primed as we were, by all the moving sights
|
||
of the night, our imagination was too much heated not to melt
|
||
us of the soonest: and accordingly, I no sooner felt the warm
|
||
spray darted up my inwards from him, but I was punctually on
|
||
flow, to share the momentary extasy; but I had yet greater
|
||
reason to boast of out harmony: for finding that all the
|
||
flames of desire were not yet quench'd within me, but that
|
||
rather, like wetted coals, I glowed the fiercer for this
|
||
sprinkling, my hot-mettled spark, sympathizing with me, and
|
||
loaded for a double fire, recontinu'd the sweet battery with
|
||
undying vigour; greatly pleas'd at which I gratefully endea-
|
||
voured to accommodate all my motions to his best advantage
|
||
and delight; kisses, squeezes, tender murmurs, all came into
|
||
play, till our joys, growing more turbulent and riotous,
|
||
threw us into a fond disorder, and as they raged to a point,
|
||
bore us far from ourselves into an ocean of boundless plea-
|
||
sures, into which we both plunged together in a transport of
|
||
taste. Now all the impressions of burning desire, from the
|
||
lively scenes I had been spectatress of, ripened by the heat
|
||
of this exercise, and collecting to a head, throbb'd and agi-
|
||
tated me with insupportable irritations: I did not now enjoy
|
||
a calm of reason enough to perceive, but I extatically, in-
|
||
deed, felt the power of such rare and exquisite provocatives,
|
||
as the examples of the night had proved towards thus exalting
|
||
our pleasures: which, with great joy, I sensibly found my
|
||
gallant shared in, by his nervous and home expressions of it:
|
||
his eyes flashing eloquent flames, his action infuriated with
|
||
the stings of it, all conspiring to rise my delight by assur-
|
||
ing me of his. Lifted then to the utmost pitch of joy that
|
||
human life can bear,undestroyed by excess, I touch'd that
|
||
sweetly critical point, whence scarce prevented by the injec-
|
||
tion from my partner, I dissolved, and breaking out into a
|
||
deep drawn sigh, sent my whole sensitive soul down to that
|
||
passage where escape was denied it, by its being so delici-
|
||
ously plugged and chok'd up. Thus we lay a few blissful in-
|
||
stants, overpowered, still, and languid; till, as the sense
|
||
of pleasure stagnated, we recover'd from out trance, and he
|
||
slipt out of me, not however before he had protested his ex-
|
||
treme satisfaction by the tenderest kiss and embrace, as well
|
||
as by the most cordial expressions.
|
||
|
||
The company, who had stood round us in a profound
|
||
silence, when all was over, help'd me to hurry on my cloaths
|
||
in an instant, and complimented me on the sincere homage
|
||
they could not escape observing had been done (as they
|
||
termed it) to the sovereignty of my charms, in my receiving
|
||
a double payment of tribute at one juncture. But my partner,
|
||
now dress'd again, signaliz'd, above all, a fondness unbated
|
||
by the circumstance of recent enjoyment; the girls too kiss'd
|
||
and embraced me, assuring me that for that time, or indeed
|
||
any other, unless I pleased, I was to go thro' no farther
|
||
publick trials, and that I was now consummatedly initiated,
|
||
and one of them.
|
||
|
||
As it was an inviolable law for every gallant to keep to
|
||
his partner, for the night especially, and even till he
|
||
relinquish'd possession over to the community, in order to
|
||
preserve a pleasing property and to avoid the disgusts and
|
||
indelicacy of another arrangement, the company, after a short
|
||
refection of biscuits and wine, tea and chocolate, served in
|
||
at now about one in the morning, broke up, and went off in
|
||
pairs. Mrs. Cole had prepared my spark and me an occasional
|
||
field-bed, to which we retir'd, and there ended the night in
|
||
one continued strain of pleasure, sprightly and uncloy'd
|
||
enough for us not to have formed one wish for its ever knowing
|
||
an end. In the morning, after a restorative breakfast in bed,
|
||
he got up, and with very tender assurances of a particular
|
||
regard for me, left me to the composure and refreshment of a
|
||
sweet slumber; waking out of which, and getting up to dress
|
||
before Mrs. Cole should come in, I found in one of my pockets
|
||
a purse of guineas, which he had slipt there; and just as I
|
||
was musing on a liberality I had certainly not expected, Mrs.
|
||
Cole came in, to whom I immediately communicated the present,
|
||
and naturally offered her whatever share she pleas'd: but
|
||
assuring me that the gentleman had very nobly rewarded her,
|
||
she would on no terms, no entreaties, no shape I could put it
|
||
in, receive any part of it. Her denial, she observed, was
|
||
not affectation of grimace, and proceeded to read me such
|
||
admirable lessons on the economy of my person and my purse as
|
||
I became amply paid for my general attention and conformity
|
||
to in the course of my acquaintance with the town. After
|
||
which, changing the discourse, she fell on the pleasures of
|
||
the preceding night, where I learn'd, without much surprize,
|
||
as I began to enter on her character, that she had seen every
|
||
thing that had passed, from a convenient place managed solely
|
||
for that purpose, and of which she readily made me the
|
||
confidante.
|
||
|
||
She had scarce finish'd this, when the little troop of
|
||
love, the girls my companions, broke in and renewed their
|
||
compliments and caresses. I observed with pleasure that the
|
||
fatigues and exercises of the night had not usurped in the
|
||
least on the life of their complexion, or the freshness of
|
||
their bloom: this I found, by their confession, was owing to
|
||
the management and advice of our rare directress. They went
|
||
down then to figure it, as usual, in the shop, whilst I
|
||
repair'd to my lodgings, where I employed myself till I
|
||
returned to dinner at Mrs. Cole's.
|
||
|
||
Here I staid in constant amusement, with one or other
|
||
of these charming girls, till about five in the evening; when
|
||
seiz'd with a sudden drowsy fit, I was prevailed on to go up
|
||
and doze it off on Harriet's bed, who left me on it to my
|
||
repose. There then I lay down in my cloaths and fell fast
|
||
asleep, and had now enjoyed, by guess, about an hour's rest,
|
||
when I was pleasingly disturbed by my new and favourite gal-
|
||
lant, who, enquiring for me, was readily directed where to
|
||
find me. Coming then into my chamber, and seeing me lie
|
||
alone, with my face turn'd from the light towards the inside
|
||
of the bed, he, without more ado, just slipped off his
|
||
breeches, for the greater ease and enjoyment of the naked
|
||
touch; and softly turning up my petticoat and shift behind,
|
||
opened the prospect of the back avenue to the genial seat of
|
||
pleasure; where, as I lay at my side length, inclining rather
|
||
face downward, I appeared full fair, and liable to be entered.
|
||
/Laying himself then gently down by me, he invested me behind,
|
||
and giving me to feel the warmth of his body as he applied
|
||
his thighs and belly close to me, and the endeavours of that
|
||
machine, whose touch has something so exquisitely singular in
|
||
it, to make its way good into me. I wak'd pretty much star-
|
||
tled at first, but seeing who it was, disposed myself to turn
|
||
to him, when he gave me a kiss, and desiring me to keep my
|
||
posture, just lifted up my upper thigh, and ascertaining the
|
||
right opening, soon drove it up to the farthest: satisfied
|
||
with which, and solacing himself with lying so close in those
|
||
parts, he suspended motion, and thus steeped in pleasure,
|
||
kept me lying on my side, into him, spoon-fashion, as he
|
||
term'd it, from the snug indent of the back part of my thighs,
|
||
and all upwards, into the space of the bending between his
|
||
thighs and belly; till, after some time, that restless and
|
||
turbulent inmate, impatient by nature of longer quiet, urg'd
|
||
him to action, which now prosecuting with all the usual train
|
||
of toying, kissing, and the like, ended at length in the
|
||
liquid proof on both sides, that we had not exhausted, or at
|
||
least were quickly recruited of last night's draughts of
|
||
pleasure in us.
|
||
|
||
With this noble and agreeable youth liv'd I in perfect
|
||
joy and constancy. He was full bent on keeping me to himself,
|
||
for the honey-month at least; but his stay in London was not
|
||
even so long, his father, who had a post in Ireland, taking
|
||
him abruptly with him on his repairing thither. Yet even then
|
||
I was near keeping hold of his affection and person, as he had
|
||
propos'd, and I had consented to follow him in order to go to
|
||
Ireland after him, as soon as he could be settled there; but
|
||
meeting with an agreeable and advantageous match in that king-
|
||
dom, he chose the wiser part, and forebore sending for me, but
|
||
at the same time took care that I should receive a very magni-
|
||
ficent present, which did not however compensate for all my
|
||
deep regret on my loss of him.
|
||
|
||
This event also created a chasm in our little society,
|
||
which Mrs. Cole, on the foot of her usual caution, was in no
|
||
haste to fill up; but then it redoubled her attention to pro-
|
||
cure me, in the advantages of a traffic for a counterfeit
|
||
maidenhead, some consolation for the sort of widowhood I had
|
||
been left in; and this was a scheme she had never lost pro-
|
||
spect of, and only waited for a proper person to bring it to
|
||
bear with.
|
||
|
||
But I was, it seems, fated to be my own caterer in this,
|
||
as I had been in my first trial of the market.
|
||
|
||
I had now pass'd near a month in the enjoyment of all
|
||
the pleasures of familiarity and society with my companions,
|
||
whose particular favourites (the baronet excepted, who soon
|
||
after took Harriet home) had all, on the terms of community
|
||
establish'd in the house, solicited the gratification of
|
||
their taste for variety in my embraces; but I had with the
|
||
utmost art and address, on various pretexts, eluded their
|
||
pursuit, without giving them cause to complain; and this
|
||
reserve I used neither out of dislike of them, or disgust of
|
||
the thing, but my true reason was my attachment to my own,
|
||
and my tenderness of invading the choice of my companions,
|
||
who outwardly exempt, as they seem'd, from jealousy, could
|
||
not but in secret like me the better for the regard I had
|
||
for, without making a merit of it to them. Thus easy, and
|
||
beloved by the whole family, did I go on; when one day, that,
|
||
about five in the afternoon, I stepped over to a fruiterer's
|
||
shop in Covent Garden, to pick some table fruit for myself
|
||
and the young women, I met with the following adventure.
|
||
|
||
Whilst I was chaffering for the fruit I wanted, I ob-
|
||
serv'd myself follow'd by a young gentleman, whose rich
|
||
dress first attracted my notice; for the rest, he had no-
|
||
thing remarkable in his person, except that he was pale,
|
||
thin-made, and ventur'd himself upon legs rather of the
|
||
slenderest. Easy was it to perceive, without seeming to
|
||
perceive it, that it was me he wanted to be at; and keeping
|
||
his eyes fixed on me, till he came to the same basket that
|
||
I stood at, and cheapening, or rather giving the first
|
||
price ask'd for the fruit, began his approaches. Now most
|
||
certainly I was not at all out of figure to pass for a modest
|
||
girl. I had neither the feathers nor fumet of a taudry town-
|
||
miss: a straw hat, a white gown, clean linen, and above all,
|
||
a certain natural and easy air of modesty (which the appear-
|
||
ances of never forsook me, even on those occasions that I
|
||
most broke in upon it, in practice) were all signs that gave
|
||
him no opening to conjecture my condition. He spoke to me;
|
||
and this address from a stranger throwing a blush into my
|
||
cheeks that still set him wider off the truth, I answered
|
||
him with an aukwardness and confusion the more apt to impose,
|
||
as there was really a mixture of the genuine in them. But
|
||
when proceeding, on the foot of having broken the ice, to
|
||
join discourse, he went into other leading questions, I put
|
||
so much innocence, simplicity, and even childishness into my
|
||
answers that on no better foundation, liking my person as he
|
||
did, I will answer for it, he would have been sworn for my
|
||
modesty. There is, in short, in the men, when once they are
|
||
caught, by the eye especially, a fund of cullibility that
|
||
their lordly wisdom little dreams of, and in virtue of which
|
||
the most sagacious of them are seen so often our dupes.
|
||
Amongst other queries he put to me, one was whether I was
|
||
married. I replied that I was too young to think of that
|
||
this many a year. To that of my age, I answered, and sunk
|
||
a year upon him, passing myself for not seventeen. As to my
|
||
way of life, I told him I had serv'd an apprenticeship to a
|
||
milliner in Preston, and was come to town after a relation,
|
||
that I had found, on my arrival, was dead, and now liv'd
|
||
journey-woman to a milliner in town. That last article,
|
||
indeed, was not much of the side of what I pretended to pass
|
||
for; but it did pass, under favour of the growing passion I
|
||
had inspir'd him with. After he had next got out of me,
|
||
very dextrously as he thought, what I had no sort of design
|
||
to make reserve of, my own, my mistress's name, and place of
|
||
abode, he loaded me with fruit, all the rarest and dearest
|
||
he could pick out, and sent me home, pondering on what might
|
||
be the consequence of this adventure.
|
||
|
||
As soon then as I came to Mrs. Cole's, I related to her
|
||
all that passed, on which she very judiciously concluded
|
||
that if he did not come after me there was no harm done, and
|
||
that, if he did, as her presage suggested to her he would,
|
||
his character and his views should be well sifted, so as to
|
||
know whether the game was worth the springs; that in the mean
|
||
time nothing was easier than my part in it, since no more
|
||
rested on me than to follow her cue and promptership through-
|
||
out, to the last act.
|
||
|
||
The next morning, after an evening spent on his side, as
|
||
we afterwards learnt, in perquisitions into Mrs. Cole's char-
|
||
acter in the neighbourhood (than which nothing could be more
|
||
favourable to her design upon him), my gentleman came in his
|
||
chariot to the shop, where Mrs. Cole alone had an inkling of
|
||
his errand. Asking then for her, he easily made a beginning
|
||
of acquaintance by be-speaking some millinery ware: when, as
|
||
I sat without lifting up my eyes, and pursuing the hem of a
|
||
ruffle with the utmost composure and simplicity of industry,
|
||
Mrs. Cole took notice that the first impressions I made on
|
||
him ran no risk of being destroyed by those of Louisa and
|
||
Emily, who were then sitting at work by me. After vainly
|
||
endeavouring to catch my eyes in re-encounter with his (as I
|
||
held my head down, affecting a kind of consciousness of guilt
|
||
for having, by speaking to him, given him encouragement and
|
||
means of following me), and after giving Mrs. Cole direction
|
||
when to bring the things home herself, and the time he should
|
||
expect them, he went out, taking with him some goods that he
|
||
paid for liberally, for the better grace of his introduction.
|
||
|
||
Part 8
|
||
|
||
The girls all this time did not in the least smoke the
|
||
mystery of this new customer; but Mrs. Cole, as soon as we
|
||
were conveniently alone, insur'd me, in virtue of her long
|
||
experience in these matters, that for this bout my charms had
|
||
not miss'd fire; for that by his eagerness, his manner and
|
||
looks, she was sure he had it: the only point now in doubt
|
||
was his character and circumstances, which her knowledge of
|
||
the town would soon gain her sufficient acquaintance with, to
|
||
take her measures upon.
|
||
|
||
And effectively, in a few hours, her intelligence serv'd
|
||
her so well that she learn'd that this conquest of mine was
|
||
no other than Mr. Norbert, a gentleman originally of great
|
||
fortune, which, with a constitution naturally not the best,
|
||
he had vastly impaired by his over-violent pursuit of the
|
||
vices of the town; in the course of which, having worn out
|
||
and stal'd all the more common modes of debauchery, he had
|
||
fallen into a taste of maiden-hunting; in which chase he had
|
||
ruin'd a number of girls, sparing no expence to compass his
|
||
ends, and generally using them well till tired, or cool'd by
|
||
enjoyment, or springing a new face, he could with more ease
|
||
disembarrass himself of the old ones, and resign them to
|
||
their fate, as his sphere of achievements of that sort lay
|
||
only amongst such as he could proceed with by way of bargain
|
||
and sale.
|
||
|
||
Concluding from these premises, Mrs. Cole observ'd that
|
||
a character of this sort was ever a lawful prize; that the
|
||
sin would be, not to make the best of our market of him; and
|
||
that she thought such a girl as I only too good for him at
|
||
any rate, and on any terms.
|
||
|
||
She went then, at the hour appointed, to his lodgings in
|
||
one of our inns of court, which were furnished in a taste of
|
||
grandeur that had a special eye to all the conveniences of
|
||
luxury and pleasure. Here she found him in ready waiting;
|
||
and after finishing her pretence of business, and a long
|
||
circuit of discussions concerning her trade, which she said
|
||
was very bad, the qualities of her servants, 'prentices,
|
||
journey-women, the discourse naturally landed at length on
|
||
me, when Mrs. Cole, acting admirably the good old prating
|
||
gossip, who lets every thing escape her when her tongue is
|
||
set in motion, cooked him up a story so plausible of me,
|
||
throwing in every now and then such strokes of art, with all
|
||
the simplest air of nature, in praise of my person and tem-
|
||
per, as finished him finely for her purpose, whilst nothing
|
||
could be better counterfeited than her innocence of his. But
|
||
when now fired and on edge, he proceeded to drop hints of his
|
||
design and views upon me, after he had with much confusion
|
||
and pains brought her to the point (she kept as long aloof
|
||
from as she thought proper) of understanding him, without now
|
||
affecting to pass for a dragoness of virtue, by flying out
|
||
into those violent and ever suspicious passions, she stuck
|
||
with the better grace and effect to the character of a plain,
|
||
good sort of a woman, that knew no harm, and that getting her
|
||
bread in an honest way, was made of stuff easy and flexible
|
||
enough to be wrought upon to his ends, by his superior skill
|
||
and address; but, however, she managed so artfully that three
|
||
or four meetings took place before he could obtain the least
|
||
favourable hope of her assistance; without which, he had, by
|
||
a number of fruitless messages, letters, and other direct
|
||
trials of my disposition, convinced himself there was no
|
||
coming at me, all which too rais'd at once my character and
|
||
price with him.
|
||
|
||
Regardful, however, of not carrying these difficulties
|
||
to such a length as might afford time for starting discov-
|
||
eries, or incidents, unfavourable to her plan, she at last
|
||
pretended to be won over by mere dint of entreaties, pro-
|
||
mises, and, above all, by the dazzling sum she took care to
|
||
wind him up to the specification of, when it was now even a
|
||
piece of art to feign, at once, a yielding to the allurements
|
||
of a great interest, as a pretext for her yielding at all,
|
||
and the manner of it such as might persuade him she had never
|
||
dipp'd her virtuous fingers in an affair of that sort.
|
||
|
||
Thus she led him through all the gradations of diffi-
|
||
culty, and obstacles, necessary to enhance the balue of the
|
||
prize he aim'd at; and in conclusion, he was so struck with
|
||
the little beauty I was mistress of, and so eagerly bent on
|
||
gaining his ends of me, that he left her even no room to
|
||
boast of her management in bringing him up to her mark, he
|
||
drove so plum of himself into every thing tending to make him
|
||
swallow the bait. Not but, in other respects, Mr. Norbert
|
||
was not clear sighted enough, or that he did not perfectly
|
||
know the town, and even by experience, the very branch of
|
||
imposition now in practice upon him: but we had his passion
|
||
our friend so much, he was so blinded and hurried on by it,
|
||
that he would have thought any undeception a very ill office
|
||
done to his pleasure. Thus concurring, even precipitately,
|
||
to the point she wanted him at, Mrs. Cole brought him at last
|
||
to hug himself on the cheap bargain he consider'd the pur-
|
||
chase of my imaginary jewel was to him, at no more than three
|
||
hundred guineas to myself, and a hundred to the brokeress:
|
||
being a slender recompense for all her pains, and all the
|
||
scruples of conscience she had now sacrificed to him for this
|
||
the first time of her life; which sums were to be paid down
|
||
on the nail, upon livery of my person, exclusive of some no
|
||
inconsiderable presents that had been made in the course of
|
||
the negotiation: during which I had occasionally, but spar-
|
||
ingly been introduc'd inbto his company, at proper times and
|
||
hours; in which it is incredible how little it seem'd neces-
|
||
sary to strain my natural disposition to modesty higher, in
|
||
order to pass it upon him for that of a very maid: all my
|
||
looks and gestures ever breathing nothing but that innocence
|
||
which the men so ardently require in us, for no other end
|
||
than to feast themselves with the pleasures of destroying it,
|
||
and which they are so grievously, with all their skill, sub-
|
||
ject to mistakes in.
|
||
|
||
When the articles of the treaty had been fully agreed
|
||
on, the stipulated payments duly secur'd, and nothing now
|
||
remained but the execution of the main point, which center'd
|
||
in the surrender of my person up to his free disposal and
|
||
use, Mrs. Cole managed her objections, especially to his
|
||
lodgings, and insinuations so nicely, that it became his own
|
||
mere notion and urgent request that this copy of a wedding
|
||
should be finish'd at her house: At first, indeed, she did
|
||
not care, said she, to have such doings in it . . . she
|
||
would not for a thousand pounds have any of the servants or
|
||
'prentices know it . . . her precious good name would be gone
|
||
forever--with the like excuses. However, on superior objec-
|
||
tions to all other expedients, whilst she took care to start
|
||
none but those which were most liable to them, it came round
|
||
at last to the necessity of her obliging him in that conveni-
|
||
ency, and of doing a little more where she had already done
|
||
so much.
|
||
|
||
The night then was fix'd, with all possible respect to
|
||
the eagerness of his impatience, and in the mean time Mrs.
|
||
Cole had omitted no instructions, nor even neglected any
|
||
preparation, that might enable me to come off with honour,
|
||
in regard to the appearance of my virginity, except that,
|
||
favour'd as I was by nature with all the narrowness of
|
||
stricture in that part requisite to conduct my designs, I
|
||
had no occasion to borrow those auxiliaries of art that
|
||
create a momentary one, easily discover'd by the test of a
|
||
warm bath; and as to the usual sanguinary symptoms of de-
|
||
floration, which, if not always, are generally attendants on
|
||
it, Mrs. Cole had made me the mistress of an invention of her
|
||
own which could hardly miss its effect, and of which more in
|
||
its place.
|
||
|
||
Everything then being disposed and fix'd for Mr. Nor-
|
||
bert's reception, he was, at the hour of eleven at night,
|
||
with all the mysteries of silence and secrecy, let in by Mrs.
|
||
Cole herself, and introduced into her bed-chamber, where, in
|
||
an old-fashioned bed of her's, I lay, fully undressed, and
|
||
panting, if not with the fears of a real maid, at least with
|
||
those perhaps greater of a dissembled one which gave me an
|
||
air of confusion and bashfulness that maiden-modesty had all
|
||
the honour of, and was indeed scarce distinguishable from
|
||
it, even by less partial eyes than those of my lover: so let
|
||
me call him, for I ever thought the term "cully" too cruel a
|
||
reproach to the men for their abused weakness for us.
|
||
|
||
As soon as Mrs. Cole, after the old gossipery, on these
|
||
occasions, us'd to young women abandoned for the first time
|
||
to the will of man, had left us alone in her room, which, by-
|
||
the-bye, was well lighted up, at his previous desire, that
|
||
seemed to bode a stricter examination that he afterwards
|
||
made, Mr. Norbert, still dressed, sprung towards the bed,
|
||
where I got my head under the cloaths, and defended them a
|
||
good while before he could even get at my lips, to kiss them:
|
||
so true it is, that a false virtue, on this occasion, even
|
||
makes a greater rout and resistance than a true one. From
|
||
thence he descended to my breasts, the feel I disputed tooth
|
||
and nail with him till, tired with my resistance, and think-
|
||
ing probably to give a better account of me, when got into
|
||
bed to me, the hurry'd his cloaths off in an instant, and
|
||
came into bed.
|
||
|
||
Mean while, by the glimpse I stole of him, I could
|
||
easily discover a person far from promising any such doughty
|
||
performances as the storming of maidenheads generally re-
|
||
quires, and whose flimsy consumptive texture gave him more
|
||
the air of an invalid that was pressed, than of a volunteer,
|
||
on such hot service.
|
||
|
||
At scarce thirty, he had already reduced his strength of
|
||
appetite down to a wretched dependence on forc'd provocatives,
|
||
very little seconded by the natural power of a body jaded and
|
||
racked off to the lees by constant repeated over-draughts of
|
||
pleasure, which had done the work of sixty winters on his
|
||
springs of life: leaving him at the same time all the fire
|
||
and heat of youth in his imagination, which served at once to
|
||
torment and spur him down the precipice.
|
||
|
||
As soon as he was in bed, he threw off the bed-cloaths,
|
||
which I suffered him to force from my hold, and I now lay as
|
||
expos'd as he could wish, not only to his attacks, but his
|
||
visitation of the sheets; where in the various agitations of
|
||
the body, through my endeavours to defend myself, he could
|
||
easily assure himself there was no preparation: though, to do
|
||
him justice, he seem'd a less strict examinant than I had
|
||
apprehended from so experienc'd a practitioner. My shift
|
||
then he fairly tore open, finding I made too much use of it
|
||
to barricade my breasts, as well as the more important
|
||
avenue: yet in every thing else he proceeded with all the
|
||
marks of tenderness and regard to me, whilst the art of my
|
||
play was to shew none for him. I acted then all the nice-
|
||
ties, apprehensions, and terrors supposable for a girl per-
|
||
fectly innocent to feel at so great a novelty as a naked man
|
||
in bed with her for the first time. He scarce even obtained
|
||
a kiss but what he ravished; I put his hand away twenty times
|
||
from my breasts, where he had satisfied himself of their
|
||
hardness and consistence, with passing for hitherto unhandled
|
||
goods. But when grown impatient for the main point, he now
|
||
threw himself upon me, and first trying to examine me with
|
||
his finger, sought to make himself further way, I complained
|
||
of his usage bitterly: I thought he would not have serv'd a
|
||
body so . . . I was ruin'd . . . I did not know what I had
|
||
done . . . I would get up, so I would . . .; and at the same
|
||
time kept my thighs so fast locked, that it was not for
|
||
strength like his to force them open, or do any good. Find-
|
||
ing thus my advantages, and that I had both my own and his
|
||
motions at command, the deceiving him came so easy that it
|
||
was perfectly playing upon velvet. In the mean time his
|
||
machine, which was one of those sizes that slip in and out
|
||
without being minded, kept pretty stiffly bearing against
|
||
that part, which the shutting my thighs barr'd access to; but
|
||
finding, at length, he could do no good by mere dint of
|
||
bodily strength, he resorted to entreaties and arguments: to
|
||
which I only answer'd with a tone of shame and timidity, that
|
||
I was afraid he would kill me . . . Lord! . . ., I would not
|
||
be served so . . . I was never so used in all my born days .
|
||
. . I wondered he was not ashamed of himself, so I did . . .,
|
||
with such silly infantile moods of repulse and complaint as I
|
||
judged best adapted to the express the character of innocence
|
||
and affright. Pretending, however, to yield at length to the
|
||
vehemence of his insistence, in action and words, I sparingly
|
||
disclosed my thighs, so that he could just touch the cloven
|
||
inlet with the tip of his instrument: but as he fatigued and
|
||
toil'd to get it in, a twist of my body, so as to receive it
|
||
obliquely, not only thwarted his admission, but giving a
|
||
scream, as if he had pierced me to the heart, I shook him off
|
||
me with such violence that he could not with all his might to
|
||
it, keep the saddle: vex'd indeed at this he seemed, but not
|
||
in the style of any displeasure with me for my skittishness;
|
||
on the contrary, I dare swear he held me the dearer, and
|
||
hugged himself for the difficulties that even hurt his
|
||
instant pleasure. Fired, however, now beyond all bearance of
|
||
delay, he remounts and begg'd of me to have patience, strok-
|
||
ing and soothing me to it by all the tenderest endearments
|
||
and protestations of what he would moreover do for me; at
|
||
which, feigning to be something softened, and abating of the
|
||
anger that I had shewn at his hurting me so prodigiously, I
|
||
suffered him to lay my thighs aside, and make way for a new
|
||
trial; but I watched the directions and management of his
|
||
point so well, that no sooner was the orifice in the least
|
||
open to it, but I gave such a timely jerk as seemed to pro-
|
||
ceed not from the evasion of his entry, but from the pain his
|
||
efforts at it put me to: a circumstance too that I did not
|
||
fail to accompany with proper gestures, sighs and cries of
|
||
complaint, of which that he had hurt me . . . he kill'd me .
|
||
. . I should die . . ., were the most frequent interjections.
|
||
But now, after repeated attempts, in which he had not made
|
||
the least impression towards gaining his point, at least for
|
||
that time, the pleasure rose so fast upon him that he could
|
||
not check or delay it, and in the vigour and fury which the
|
||
approaches of the height of it inspir'd him, he made one
|
||
fierce thrust, that had almost put me by my guard, and
|
||
lodged it so far that I could feel the warm inspersion just
|
||
within the exterior orifice, which I had the cruelty not to
|
||
let him finish there, but threw him out again, not without a
|
||
most piercing loud exclamation, as if the pain had put me
|
||
beyond all regard of being overheard. It was easy then to
|
||
observe that he was more satisfy'd, more highly pleased with
|
||
the supposed motives of his baulk of consummation, than he
|
||
would have been at the full attainment of it. It was on
|
||
this foot that I solved to myself all the falsity I employed
|
||
to procure him that blissful pleasure in it, which most
|
||
certainly he would not have tasted in the truth of things.
|
||
Eas'd however, and relieved by one discharge, he now apply'd
|
||
himself to sooth, encourage and to put me into humour and
|
||
patience to bear his next attempt, which he began to prepare
|
||
and gather force for, from all the incentives of the touch
|
||
and sight which he could think of, by examining every indi-
|
||
vidual part of my whole body, which he declared his satis-
|
||
faction with in raptures of applauses, kisses universally
|
||
imprinted, and sparing no part of me, in all the eagerest
|
||
wantonness of feeling, seeing, and toying. His vigour how-
|
||
ever did not return so soon, and I felt him more than once
|
||
pushing at the door, but so little in a condition to break
|
||
in, that I question whether he had the power to enter, had I
|
||
held it ever so open; but this he then thought me too little
|
||
acquainted with the nature of things to have any regret or
|
||
confusion about, and he kept fatiguing himself and me for a
|
||
long time, before he was in any state to resume his attacks
|
||
with any prospect of success; and then I breath'd him so
|
||
warmly, and kept him so at bay, that before he had made any
|
||
sensible progress in point of penetration, he was deliciously
|
||
sweated, and weary'd out indeed: so that it was deep in the
|
||
morning before he achieved his second let-go, about half way
|
||
of entrance, I all the while crying and complaining of his
|
||
prodigious vigour, and the immensity of what I appear'd to
|
||
suffer splitting up with. Tired, however, at length, with
|
||
such athletic drudgery, my champion began now to give out,
|
||
and to gladly embrace the refreshment of some rest. Kissing
|
||
me then with much affection, and recommending me to my
|
||
repose, he presently fell fast asleep: which, as soon as I
|
||
had well satisfy'd myself of, I with much composure of body,
|
||
so as not to wake him by any motion, with much ease and
|
||
safety too, played of Mrs. Cole's advice for perfecting the
|
||
signs of my virginity.
|
||
|
||
In each of the head bed-posts, just above where the bed-
|
||
steads are inserted into them, there was a small drawer, so
|
||
artfully adapted to the mouldings of the timber-work, that it
|
||
might have escap'd even the most curious search: which
|
||
drawers were easily open'd or shut by the touch of a spring,
|
||
and were fitted each with a shallow glass tumbler, full of a
|
||
prepared fluid blood, in which lay soak'd, for ready use, a
|
||
sponge that required no more than gently reaching the hand to
|
||
it, taking it out and properly squeezing between the thighs,
|
||
when it yielded a great deal more of the red liquid than
|
||
would save a girl's honour; after which, replacing it, and
|
||
touching the spring, all possibility of discovery, or even of
|
||
suspicion, was taken away; and all this was not the work of
|
||
the fourth part of a minute, and on which ever side one lay,
|
||
the thing was equally easy and practicable, by the double
|
||
care taken to have each bed-post provided alike. True it is,
|
||
that had he waked and caught me in the act, it would at least
|
||
have covered me with shame and confusion; but then, that he
|
||
did not, was, with the precautions I took, a risk of a thou-
|
||
sand to one in my favour.
|
||
|
||
At ease now, and out of all fear of any doubt or sus-
|
||
picion on his side, I address'd myself in good earnest to my
|
||
repose, but could obtain none; and in about half an hour's
|
||
time my gentleman waked again, and turning towards me, I
|
||
feigned a sound sleep, which he did not long respect; but
|
||
girding himself again to renew the onset, he began to kiss
|
||
and caress me, when now making as if I just wak'd, I com-
|
||
plained of the disturbance, and of the cruel pain that this
|
||
little rest had stole my senses from. Eager, however, for
|
||
the pleasure, as well of consummating an entire triumph over
|
||
my virginity, he said everything that could overcome my
|
||
resistance, and bribe my patience to the end, which not I was
|
||
ready to listen to, from being secure of the bloody proofs I
|
||
had prepared of his victorious violence, though I still
|
||
thought it good policy not to let him in yet a while. I
|
||
answered then only to his importunities in sighs and moans
|
||
that I was so hurt, I could not bear it . . . I was sure he
|
||
had done me a mischief; that he had . . . he was such a sad
|
||
man! At this, turning down the cloaths and viewing the field
|
||
of battle by the glimmer of a dying taper, he saw plainly my
|
||
thighs, shift, and sheets, all stained with what he readily
|
||
took for a virgin effusion, proceeding from his last half-
|
||
penetration: convinc'd, and transported at which, nothing
|
||
could equal his joy and exultation. The illusion was com-
|
||
plete, no other conception entered his head but that of his
|
||
having been at work upon an unopen'd mine; which idea, upon
|
||
so strong an evidence, redoubled at once his tenderness for
|
||
me, and his ardour for breaking it wholly up. Kissing me
|
||
then with the utmost rapture, he comforted me, and begg'd my
|
||
pardon for the pain he had put me to: observing withal, that
|
||
it was only a thing in course: but the worst was certainly
|
||
past, and that with a little courage and constancy, I should
|
||
get it once well over, and never after experience any thing
|
||
but the greatest pleasure. By little and little I suffer'd
|
||
myself to be prevailed on, and giving, as it were, up the
|
||
point to him, I made my thighs, insensibly spreading them,
|
||
yield him liberty of access, which improving, he got a
|
||
little within me, when by a well managed reception I work'd
|
||
the female screw so nicely, that I kept him from the easy
|
||
mid-channel direction, and by dextrous wreathing and contor-
|
||
tions, creating an artificial difficulty of entrance, made
|
||
him win it inch by inch, with the most laborious struggles,
|
||
I all the while sorely complaining: till at length, with
|
||
might and main, winding his way in, he got it completely
|
||
home, and giving my virginity, as he thought, the coup de
|
||
grace, furnished me with the cue of setting up a terrible
|
||
outcry, whilst he, triumphant and like a cock clapping his
|
||
wings over his down-trod mistress, pursu'd his pleasure:
|
||
which presently rose, in virtue of this idea of a complete
|
||
victory, to a pitch that made me soon sensible of his melt-
|
||
ing period; whilst I now lay acting the deep wounded,breath-
|
||
less, frighten'd, undone, no longer maid.
|
||
|
||
You would ask me, perhaps, whether all this time I
|
||
enjoy'd any perception of pleasure? I assure you, little or
|
||
none, till just towards the latter end, a faintish sense of
|
||
it came on mechanically, from so long a struggle and frequent
|
||
fret in that ever sensible part; but, in the first place, I
|
||
had no taste for the person I was suffering the embraces of,
|
||
on a pure mercenary account; and then, I was not entirely
|
||
delighted with myself for the jade's part I was playing,
|
||
whatever excuses I might have to plead for my being brought
|
||
into it; but then this insensibility kept me so much the
|
||
mistress of my mind and motions, that I could the better
|
||
manage so close a counterfeit, through the whole scene of
|
||
deception.
|
||
|
||
Recover'd at length to a more shew of life, by his ten-
|
||
der condolences, kisses and embraces, I upbraided him, and
|
||
reproach'd him with my ruin, in such natural terms as added
|
||
to his satisfaction with himself for having accomplish'd it;
|
||
and guessing, by certain observations of mine, that it would
|
||
be rather favourable to him, to spare him, when he some time
|
||
after, feebly enough, came on again to the assault, I reso-
|
||
lutely withstood any further endeavours, on a pretext that
|
||
flattered his prowess, of my being so violently hurt and sore
|
||
that I could not possibly endure a fresh trial. He then gra-
|
||
ciously granted me a respite, and the next morning soon after
|
||
advancing, I got rid of further importunity, till Mrs. Cole,
|
||
being rang for by him, came in and was made acquainted, in
|
||
terms of the utmost joy and rapture, with his triumphant cer-
|
||
tainty of my virtue, and the finishing stroke he had given it
|
||
in the course of the night: of which, he added, she would see
|
||
proof enough in bloody characters on the sheets.
|
||
|
||
You may guess how a woman of her turn of address and
|
||
experience humour'd the jest, and played him off with mixed
|
||
exclamations of shame, anger, compassion for me, and of her
|
||
being pleased that all was so well over: in which last, I
|
||
believe, she was certainly sincere. And now, as the objec-
|
||
tion which she had represented as an invincible one, to my
|
||
lying the first night at his lodgings (which were studiously
|
||
calculated for freedom of intrigues), on the account of my
|
||
maiden fears and terrors at the thoughts of going to a
|
||
gentleman's chambers, and being alone with him in bed, was
|
||
surmounted, she pretended to persuade me, in favour to him,
|
||
that I should go there to him whenever he pleas'd, and still
|
||
keep up all the necessary appearances of working with her,
|
||
that I might not lose, with my character, the prospect of
|
||
getting a good husband, and at the same time her house would
|
||
be kept the safer from scandal. All this seem'd so reason-
|
||
able, so considerate to Mr. Norbert, that he never once per-
|
||
ceived that she did not want him to resort to her house, lest
|
||
he might in time discover certain inconsistencies with the
|
||
character she had set out with to him: besides that, this
|
||
plan greatly flattered his own ease, and views of liberty.
|
||
|
||
Leaving me then to my much wanted rest, he got up, and
|
||
Mrs. Cole, after settling with him all points relating to me,
|
||
got him undiscovered out of the house. After which, as I was
|
||
awake, she came in and gave me due praises for my success.
|
||
Behaving too with her usual moderation and disinterestedness,
|
||
she refus'd any share of the sum I had thus earned, and put
|
||
me into such a secure and easy way of disposing of my af-
|
||
fairs, which now amounted to a kind of little fortune, that
|
||
a child of ten years old might have kept the account and
|
||
property of them safe in its hands.
|
||
|
||
I was now restor'd again to my former state of a kept
|
||
mistress, and used punctually to wait on Mr. Norbert at his
|
||
chambers whenever he sent a messenger for me, which I con-
|
||
stantly took care to be in the way of, and manag'd with so
|
||
much caution that he never once penetrated the nature of my
|
||
connections with Mrs. Cole; but indolently given up to ease
|
||
and the town dissipations, the perpetual hurry of them hin-
|
||
der'd him from looking into his own affairs, much less to
|
||
mine.
|
||
|
||
In the mean time, if I may judge from my own experience,
|
||
none are better paid, or better treated, during their reign,
|
||
than the mistresses of those who, enervate by nature, debauc-
|
||
heries, or age, have the least employment for the sex: sen-
|
||
sible that a woman must be satisfy'd some way, they ply her
|
||
with a thousand little tender attentions, presents, caresses,
|
||
confidences, and exhaust their inventions in means and de-
|
||
vices to make up for the capital deficiency; and even towards
|
||
lessening that, what arts, what modes, what refinements of
|
||
pleasure have they not recourse to, to raise their languid
|
||
powers, and press nature into the service of their sensu-
|
||
ality? But here is their misfortune, that when by a course
|
||
of teasing, worrying, handling, wanton postures, lascivious
|
||
motions, they have at length accomplish'd a flashy enervate
|
||
enjoyment, they at the same time lighted up a flame in the
|
||
object of their passion, that, not having the means them-
|
||
selves to quench, drives her for relief into the next per-
|
||
son's arms, who can finish their work; and thus they become
|
||
bawds to some favourite, tried and approv'd of, for a more
|
||
vigourous and satisfactory execution; for with women, of our
|
||
turn especially, however well our hearts may be dispos'd,
|
||
there is a controlling part, or queen seat in us, that
|
||
governs itself by its own maxims of state, amongst which not
|
||
one is stronger, in practice with it, than, in the matter of
|
||
its dues, never to accept the will for the deed.
|
||
|
||
Mr. Norbert, who was much in this ungracious case,
|
||
though he profess'd to like me extremely, could but seldom
|
||
consummate the main-joy itself with me, without such a length
|
||
and variety of preparations, as were at once wearisome and
|
||
inflammatory.
|
||
|
||
Sometimes he would strip me stark naked on a carpet, by
|
||
a good fire, when he would contemplate me almost by the hour,
|
||
disposing me in all the figures and attitudes of body that it
|
||
was susceptible of being viewed in; kissing me in every part,
|
||
the most secret and critical one so far from excepted that it
|
||
received most of that branch of homage. Then his touches
|
||
were so exquisitely wanton, so luxuriously diffus'd and pene-
|
||
trative at times, that he had made me perfectly rage with
|
||
titillating fires, when, after all, and with much ado, he had
|
||
gained a short-lived erection, he would perhaps melt it away
|
||
in a washy sweat, or a premature abortive effusion that pro-
|
||
vokingly mock'd my eager desires: or, if carried home, how
|
||
falter'd and unnervous the execution! how insufficient the
|
||
sprinkle of a few heat-drops to extinguish all the flames he
|
||
had kindled!
|
||
|
||
One evening, I cannot help remembering that returning
|
||
home from him, with a spirit he had raised in a circle his
|
||
wand had prov'd too weak to lay, as I turn'd the corner of a
|
||
street, I was overtaken by a young sailor. I was then in
|
||
that spruce, neat, plain dress which I ever affected, and
|
||
perhaps might have, in my trip, a certain air of restless-
|
||
ness unknown to the composure of cooler thoughts. However,
|
||
he seiz'd me as a prize, and without farther ceremony threw
|
||
his arms round my neck and kiss'd me boisterously and
|
||
sweetly. I looked at him with a beginning of anger and
|
||
indignation at his rudeness, that softened away into other
|
||
sentiments as I viewed him: for he was tall, manly carri-
|
||
aged, handsome of body and face, so that I ended my stare
|
||
with asking him, in a tone turn'd to tenderness, what he
|
||
meant; at which, with the same frankness and vivacity as he
|
||
had begun with me, he proposed treating me with a glass of
|
||
wine. Now, certain it is, that had I been in a calmer state
|
||
of blood than I was, had I not been under the dominion of
|
||
unappeas'd irritations and desires, I should have refused
|
||
him without hesitation; but I do not know how it was, my
|
||
pressing calls, his figure, the occasion, and if you will,
|
||
the powerful combination of all these, with a start of
|
||
curiosity to see the end of an adventure, so novel too as
|
||
being treated like a common street-plyer, made me give a
|
||
silent consent; in short, it was not my head that I now
|
||
obeyed, I suffered myself to be towed along as it were by
|
||
this man-of-war, who took me under his arm as familiarly as
|
||
if he had known me all his life-time, and led me into the
|
||
next convenient tavern, where we were shewn into a little
|
||
room on one side of the passage. Here, scarce allowing him-
|
||
self patience till the waiter brought in the wine call'd for,
|
||
he fell directly on board me: when, untucking my handker-
|
||
chief, and giving me a snatching buss, he laid my breasts
|
||
bare at once, which he handled with that keenness of lust
|
||
that abridges a ceremonial ever more tiresome than pleasing
|
||
on such pressing occasions; and now, hurrying towards the
|
||
main point, we found no conveniency to our purpose, two or
|
||
three disabled chairs and a rickety table composing the whole
|
||
furniture of the room. Without more ado, he plants me with
|
||
my back standing against the wall, and my petticoats up; and
|
||
coming out with a splitter indeed, made it shine, as he
|
||
brandished it in my eyes; and going to work with an impetu-
|
||
osity and eagerness, bred very likely by a long fast at sea,
|
||
went ot give me a taste of it. I straddled, I humoured my
|
||
posture, and did my best in short to buckle to it; I took
|
||
part of it in too, but still things did not go to his thor-
|
||
ough liking: changing then in a trice his system of battery,
|
||
he leads me to the table and with a master-hand lays my head
|
||
down on the edge of it, and, with the other canting up my
|
||
petticoats and shift, bares my naked posteriours to his blind
|
||
and furious guide; it forces its way between them, and I
|
||
feeling pretty sensibly that it was not going by the right
|
||
door, and knocking desperately at the wrong one, I told him
|
||
of it: -"Pooh!" says he, "my dear, any port in a storm."
|
||
Altering, however, directly his course, and lowering his
|
||
point, he fixed it right, and driving it up with a delicious
|
||
stiffness, made all foam again, and gave me the tout with
|
||
such fire and spirit, that in the fine disposition I was in
|
||
when I submitted to him, and stirr'd up so fiercely as I
|
||
was, I got the start of him, and went away into the melting
|
||
swoon, and squeezing him, whilst in the convulsive grasp of
|
||
it, drew from him such a plenteous bedewal as, join'd to my
|
||
own effusion, perfectly floated those parts, and drown'd in
|
||
a deluge all my raging conflagration of desire.
|
||
|
||
When this was over, how to make my retreat was my con-
|
||
cern; for, though I had been so extremely pleas'd with the
|
||
difference between this warm broadside, pour'd so briskly
|
||
into me, and the tiresome pawing and toying to which I had
|
||
owed the unappeas'd flames that had driven me into this step,
|
||
now I was grown cooler, I began to apprehend the danger of
|
||
contracting an acquaintance with this, however agreeable,
|
||
stranger; who, on his side, spoke of passing the evening with
|
||
me and continuing our intimacy, with an air of determination
|
||
that made me afraid of its being not so easy to get away from
|
||
him as I could wish. In the mean time I carefully conceal'd
|
||
my uneasiness, and readily pretended to consent to stay with
|
||
him, telling him I should only step to my lodgings to leave
|
||
a necessary direction, and then instantly return. This he
|
||
very glibly swallowed, on the notion of my being one of those
|
||
unhappy street-errants who devote themselves to the pleasure
|
||
of the first ruffian that will stoop to pick them up, and of
|
||
course, that I would scarce bilk myself of my hire, by my not
|
||
returning to make the most of the job. Thus he parted with
|
||
me, not before, however, he had order'd in my hearing a
|
||
supper, which I had the barbarity to disappoint him of my
|
||
company to.
|
||
|
||
But when I got home and told Mrs. Cole my adventure, she
|
||
represented so strongly to me the nature and dangerous conse-
|
||
quences of my folly, particularly the risks to my health, in
|
||
being so open-legg'd and free, that I not only took resolu-
|
||
tions never to venture so rashly again, which I inviolably
|
||
preserv'd, but pass'd a good many days in continual uneasi-
|
||
ness lest I should have met with other reasons, besides the
|
||
pleasure of that encounter, to remember it; but these fears
|
||
wronged my pretty sailor, for which I gladly make him this
|
||
reparation.
|
||
|
||
I had now liv'd with Mr. Norbert near a quarter of a
|
||
year, in which space I circulated my time very pleasantly
|
||
between my amusements at Mrs. Cole's, and a proper attendance
|
||
on that gentleman, who paid me profusely for the unlimited
|
||
complaisance with which I passively humoured every caprice of
|
||
pleasure, and which had won upon him so greatly, that find-
|
||
ing, as he said, all that variety in me alone which he had
|
||
sought for in a number of women, I had made him lose his
|
||
taste for inconstancy, and new faces. But what was yet at
|
||
least agreeable, as well as more flattering, the love I had
|
||
inspir'd him with bred a deference to me that was of great
|
||
service to his health: for having by degrees, and with most
|
||
pathetic representations, brought him to some husbandry of
|
||
it, and to insure the duration of his pleasures by moderat-
|
||
ing their use, and correcting those excesses in them he was
|
||
so addicted to, and which had shatter'd his constitution and
|
||
destroyed his powers of life in the very point for which he
|
||
seemed chiefly desirous, to live, he was grown more delicate,
|
||
more temperate, and in course more healthy; his gratitude
|
||
for which was taking a turn very favourable for my fortune,
|
||
when once more the caprice of it dash'd the cup from my lips.
|
||
|
||
His sister, Lady L . . ., for whom he had a great affec-
|
||
tion, desiring him to accompany her down to Bath for her
|
||
health, he could not refuse her such a favour; and accord-
|
||
ingly, though he counted on staying away from me no more than
|
||
a week at farthest, he took his leave of me with an ominous
|
||
heaviness of heart, and left me a sum far above the state of
|
||
his fortune, and very inconsistent with the intended short-
|
||
ness of his journey; but it ended in the longest that can be,
|
||
and is never but once taken: for, arriv'd at Bath, he was not
|
||
there two days before he fell into a debauch of drinking with
|
||
some gentlemen, that threw him into a high fever and carry'd
|
||
him off in four days time, never once out of a delirium. Had
|
||
he been in his senses to make a will, perhaps he might have
|
||
made favourable mention of me in it. Thus, however, I lost
|
||
him; and as no condition of life is more subject to revolu-
|
||
tions than that of a woman of pleasure, I soon recover'd my
|
||
cheerfulness, and now beheld myself once more struck off the
|
||
list of kept-mistresses, and returned into the bosom of the
|
||
community from which I had been in some manner taken.
|
||
|
||
Mrs. Cole still continuing her friendship, offered me
|
||
her assistance and advice towards another choice; but I was
|
||
now in ease and affluence enough to look about me at lei-
|
||
sure; and as to any constitutional calls of pleasure, their
|
||
pressure, or sensibility, was greatly lessen'd by a consci-
|
||
ousness of the ease with which they were to be satisfy'd at
|
||
Mrs. Cole's house, where Louisa and Emily still continu'd in
|
||
the old way; and by great favourite Harriet used often to
|
||
come and see me, and entertain me, with her head and heart
|
||
full of the happiness she enjoy'd with her dear baronet,
|
||
whom she loved with tenderness, and constancy, even though
|
||
he was her keeper, and what is yet more, had made her inde-
|
||
pendent, by a handsome provision for her and hers. I was
|
||
then in this vacancy from any regular employ of my person, in
|
||
my way of business, when one day, Mrs. Cole, in the course of
|
||
the constant confidence we lived in, acquainted me that there
|
||
was one Mr. Barville, who used her house, just come to town,
|
||
whom she was not a little perplex'd about providing a suit-
|
||
able companion for; which was indeed a point of difficulty,
|
||
as he was under the tyranny of a cruel taste: that of an
|
||
ardent desire, not only of being unmercifully whipp'd him-
|
||
self, but of whipping others, in such sort, that tho' he paid
|
||
extravagantly those who had the courage and complaisance to
|
||
submit to his humour, there were few, delicate as he was in
|
||
the choice of his subjects, who would exchange turns with him
|
||
so terrible at the expense of their skin. But, what yet in-
|
||
creased the oddity of this strange fancy was the gentleman
|
||
being young; whereas it generally attacks, it seems, such as
|
||
are, through age, obliged to have recourse to this experi-
|
||
ment, for quickening the circulation of their sluggish
|
||
juices, and determining a conflux of the spirits of pleasure
|
||
towards those flagging, shrivelly parts, that rise to life
|
||
only by virtue of those titillating ardours created by the
|
||
discipline of their opposites, with which they have so sur-
|
||
prising a consent.
|
||
|
||
This Mrs. Cole could not well acquaint me with, in any
|
||
expectation of my offering my service: for, sufficiently easy
|
||
as I was in my circumstances, it must have been the tempta-
|
||
tion of an immense interest indeed that could have induced me
|
||
to embrace such a job; neither had I ever express'd, nor in-
|
||
deed felt, the least impulse or curiosity to know more of a
|
||
taste that promis'd so much more pain than pleasure to those
|
||
that stood in no need of such violent goads: what then should
|
||
move me to subscribe myself voluntarily to a party of pain,
|
||
foreknowing it such? Why, to tell the plain truth, it was a
|
||
sudden caprice, a gust of fancy for trying a new experiment,
|
||
mix'd with the vanity of proving my personal courage to Mrs.
|
||
Cole, that determined me, at all risks, to propose myself to
|
||
her, and relieve her from any farther lookout. Accordingly,
|
||
I at once pleas'd and surpris'd her with a frank and unre-
|
||
served tender of my person to her, and her friend's absolute
|
||
disposal on this occasion.
|
||
|
||
My good temporal mother was, however, so kind as to use
|
||
all the arguments she could imagine to dissuade me: but, as
|
||
I found they only turn'd on a motive of tnederness to me, I
|
||
persisted in my resolution, and thereby acquitted my offer of
|
||
any suspicion of its not having been sincerely made, or out
|
||
of compliment only. Acquiescing then thankfully in it, Mrs.
|
||
Cole assur'd me that bating the pain I should be put to, she
|
||
had no scruple to engage me to this party, which she assur'd
|
||
me I should be liberally paid for, and which, the secrecy of
|
||
the transaction preserved safe from the ridicule that other-
|
||
wise vulgarly attended it; that for her part, she considered
|
||
pleasure, of one sort or other, as the universal port of
|
||
destination, and every wind that blew thither a good one,
|
||
provided it blew nobody any harm; that she rather compas-
|
||
sionated, than blam'd, those unhappy persons who are under a
|
||
subjection they cannot shake off, to those arbitrary tastes
|
||
that rule their appetites of pleasures with an unaccountable
|
||
control: tastes, too, as infinitely deversify'd, as superior
|
||
to, and independent of, all reasoning as the different re-
|
||
lishes or palates of mankind in their viands, some delicate
|
||
stomachs nauseating plain meats, and finding no savour but in
|
||
high-seasoned, luxurious dishes, whilst others again pique
|
||
themselves upon detesting them.
|
||
|
||
I stood now in no need of this preamble of encourage-
|
||
ment, of justification: my word was given, and I was deter-
|
||
min'd to fulfil my engagements. Accordingly the night was
|
||
set, and I had all the necessary previous instructions how to
|
||
act and conduct myself. The dining-room was duly prepared
|
||
and lighted up, and the young gentleman posted there in wait-
|
||
ing, for my introduction to him.
|
||
|
||
I was then, by Mrs. Cole, brought in, and presented to
|
||
him, in a loose dishabille fitted, by her direction, to the
|
||
exercise I was to go through, all in the finest linen and a
|
||
thorough white uniform: gown, petticoat, stockings, and satin
|
||
slippers, like a victim led to sacrifice; whilst my dark
|
||
auburn hair, falling in drop-curls over my neck, created a
|
||
pleasing distinction of colour from the rest of my dress.
|
||
|
||
As soon as Mr. Barville saw me, he got up, with a visi-
|
||
ble air of pleasure and surprize, and saluting me, asked Mrs.
|
||
Cole if it was possible that so fine and delicate a creature
|
||
would voluntarily submit to such sufferings and rigours as
|
||
were the subject of his assignation. She answer'd him pro-
|
||
perly, and now, reading in his eyes that she could not too
|
||
soon leave us together, she went out, after recommending to
|
||
him to use moderation with so tender a novice.
|
||
|
||
But whilst she was employing his attention, mine had
|
||
been taken up with examining the figure and person of this
|
||
unhappy young gentleman, who was thus unaccountably condemn'd
|
||
to have his pleasure lashed into him, as boys have their
|
||
learning.
|
||
|
||
He was exceedingly fair, and smooth complexion'd, and
|
||
appeared to me no more than twenty at most, tho' he was three
|
||
years older than what my conjectures gave him; but then he
|
||
ow'd this favourable mistake to a habit of fatness, which
|
||
spread through a short, squab stature, and a round, plump,
|
||
fresh-coloured face gave him greatly the look of a Bacchus,
|
||
had not an air of austerity, not to say sternness, very un-
|
||
suitable even to his shape of face, dash'd that character of
|
||
joy, necessary to complete the resemblance. His dress was
|
||
extremely neat, but plain, and far inferior to the ample for-
|
||
tune he was in full possession of; this too was a taste in
|
||
him, and not avarice.
|
||
|
||
As soon as Mrs. Cole was gone, he seated me near him,
|
||
when now his face changed upon me into an expression of the
|
||
most pleasing sweetness and good humour, the more remarkable
|
||
for its sudden shift from the other extreme, which, I found
|
||
afterwards, when I knew more of his character, was owing to
|
||
a habitual state of conflict with, and dislike of himself,
|
||
for being enslaved to so peculiar a gust, by the fatality of
|
||
a constitutional ascendant, that render'd him incapable of
|
||
receiving any pleasure till he submitted to these extraordi-
|
||
nary means of procuring it at the hands of pain, whilst the
|
||
constancy of this repining consciousness stamp'd at length
|
||
that cast of sourness and severity on his features: which
|
||
was, in fact, very foreign to the natural sweetness of his
|
||
temper.
|
||
|
||
After a competent preparation by apologies, and en-
|
||
couragement to go through my part with spirit and constancy,
|
||
he stood up near the fire, whilst I went to fetch the in-
|
||
struments of discipline out of a closet hard by: these were
|
||
several rods, made each of two or three strong twigs of birch
|
||
tied together, which he took, handled, and view'd with as
|
||
much pleasure, as I did with a kind of shuddering presage.
|
||
|
||
Next we took from the side of the room a long broad
|
||
bench, made easy to lie at length on by a soft cushion in a
|
||
callico-cover; and every thing being now ready, he took his
|
||
coat and waistcoat off; and at his motion and desire, I un-
|
||
button'd his breeches, and rolling up his shirt rather above
|
||
his waist, tuck'd it in securely there: when directing natur-
|
||
ally my eyes to that humoursome master-movement, in whose
|
||
favour all these dispositions were making, it seemed almost
|
||
shrunk into his body, scarce shewing its tip above the sprout
|
||
of hairy curls that cloathed those parts, as you may have
|
||
seen a wren peep its head out of the grass.
|
||
|
||
Stooping then to untie his garters, he gave them me for
|
||
the use of tying him down to the legs of the bench: a cir-
|
||
cumstance no farther necessary than, as I suppose, it made
|
||
part of the humour of the thing, since he prescribed it to
|
||
himself, amongst the rest of the ceremonial.
|
||
|
||
I led him then to the bench, and according to my cue,
|
||
play'd at forcing him to lie down: which, after some little
|
||
shew of reluctance, for form-sake, he submitted to; he was
|
||
straightway extended flat upon his belly, on the bench, with
|
||
a pillow under his face; and as he thus tamely lay, I tied
|
||
him slightly hand and foot, to the legs of it; which done,
|
||
his shirt remaining truss'd up over the small of his back, I
|
||
drew his breeches quite down to his knees; and now he lay,
|
||
in all the fairest, broadest display of that part of the
|
||
back-view; in which a pair of chubby, smooth-cheek'd and
|
||
passing white posteriours rose cushioning upwards from two
|
||
stout, fleshful thighs, and ending their cleft, or separa-
|
||
tion by an union at the small of the back, presented a bold
|
||
mark, that swell'd, as it were, to meet the scourge.
|
||
|
||
Seizing now one of the rods, I stood over him, and
|
||
according to his direction, gave him in one breath, ten
|
||
lashes with much good-will, and the utmost nerve and vigour
|
||
of arm that I could put to them, so as to make those fleshy
|
||
orbs quiver again under them; whilst he himself seem'd no
|
||
more concern'd, or to mind them, than a lobster would a flea-
|
||
bite. In the mean time, I viewed intently the effects of
|
||
them, which to me at least appear'd surprisingly cruel: every
|
||
lash had skimmed the surface of those white cliffs, which
|
||
they deeply reddened, and lapping round the side of the fur-
|
||
thermost from me, cut specially, into the dimple of it such
|
||
livid weals, as the blood either spun out from, or stood in
|
||
large drops on; and, from some of the cuts, I picked out even
|
||
the splinters of the rod that had stuck in the skin. Nor was
|
||
this raw work to be wonder'd at, considering the greenness of
|
||
the twigs and the severity of the infliction, whilst the
|
||
whole surface of his skin was so smooth-stretched over the
|
||
hard and firm pulp of flesh that fill'd it, as to yield no
|
||
play, or elusive swagging under the stroke: which thereby
|
||
took place the more plum, and cut into the quick.
|
||
|
||
I was however already so mov'd at the piteous sight,
|
||
that I from my heart repented the undertaking, and would
|
||
willingly have given over, thinking he had full enough; but,
|
||
he encouraging and beseeching me earnestly to proceed, I gave
|
||
him ten more lashes; and then resting, survey'd the increase
|
||
of bloody appearances. And at length, steel'd to the sight
|
||
by his stoutness in suffering, I continued the discipline, by
|
||
intervals, till I observ'd him wreathing and twisting his
|
||
body, in a way that I could plainly perceive was not the
|
||
effect of pain, but of some new and powerful sensation: curi-
|
||
ous to dive into the meaning of which, in one of my pauses of
|
||
intermission, I approached, as he still kept working, and
|
||
grinding his belly against the cushion under him; and, first
|
||
stroking the untouched and unhurt side of the flesh-mount
|
||
next me, then softly insinuating my hand under his thigh,
|
||
felt the posture things were in forwards, which was indeed
|
||
surprizing: for that machine of his, which I had, by its ap-
|
||
pearance, taken for an impalpable, or at best a very diminu-
|
||
tive subject, was now, in virtue of all that smart and havoc
|
||
of his skin behind, grown not only to a prodigious stiffness
|
||
of erection, but to a size that frighted even me: a non-
|
||
pareil thickness indeed! the head of it alone fill'd the ut-
|
||
most capacity of my grasp. And when, as he heav'd and wrig-
|
||
gled to and fro, in the agitation of his strange pleasure,
|
||
it came into view, it had something of the air of a round
|
||
fillet of the whitest veal, and like its owner, squab, and
|
||
short in proportion to its breadth; but when he felt my hand
|
||
there, he begg'd I would go on briskly with my jerking, or he
|
||
should never arrive at the last stage of pleasure.
|
||
|
||
Resuming then the rod and the exercise of it, I had
|
||
fairly worn out three bundles, when, after an increase of
|
||
struggles and motion, and a deep sigh or two, I saw him lie
|
||
still and motionless; and now he desir'd me to desist, which
|
||
I instantly did; and proceeding to untie him, I could not but
|
||
be amazed at his passive fortitude, on viewing the skin of
|
||
his butcher'd, mangled posteriours, late so white, smooth and
|
||
polish'd, now all one side of them a confused cut-work of
|
||
weals, livid flesh, gashes and gore, insomuch that when he
|
||
stood up, he could scarce walk; in short, he was in sweet-
|
||
briars.
|
||
|
||
Then I plainly perceived, on the cushion, the marks of a
|
||
plenteous effusion, and already had his sluggard member run
|
||
up to its old nestling-place, and enforced itself again, as
|
||
if ashamed to shew its head; which nothing, it seems, could
|
||
raise but stripes inflicted on its opposite neighbours, who
|
||
were thus constantly obliged to suffer for his caprice.
|
||
|
||
Part 9
|
||
|
||
My gentleman had now put on his clothes and recomposed
|
||
himself, when giving me a kiss, and placing me by him, he sat
|
||
himself down as gingerly as possible, with one side off the
|
||
cushion, which was too sore for him to bear resting any part
|
||
of his weight on.
|
||
|
||
Here he thank'd me for the extreme pleasure I had pro-
|
||
cured him, and seeing, perhaps, some marks in my countenance
|
||
of terror and apprehension of retaliation on my own skin, for
|
||
what I had been the instrument of his suffering in his, he
|
||
assured me, that he was ready to give up to me any engagement
|
||
I might deem myself under to stand him, as he had done me,
|
||
but if that proceeded in my consent to it, he would consider
|
||
the difference of my sex, its greater delicacy and incapacity
|
||
to undergo pain. Rehearten'd at which, and piqu'd in honour,
|
||
as I thought, not to flinch so near the trial, especially as
|
||
I well knew Mrs. Cole was an eye-witness, from her stand of
|
||
espial, to the whole of our transactions, I was now less
|
||
afraid of my skin than of his not furnishing me with an oppor-
|
||
tunity of signalizing my resolution.
|
||
|
||
Consonant to this disposition was my answer, but my
|
||
courage was still more in my head, than in my heart; and as
|
||
cowards rush into the danger they fear, in order to be the
|
||
sooner rid of the pain of that sensation, I was entirely
|
||
pleas'd with his hastening matters into execution.
|
||
|
||
He had then little to do, but to unloose the strings of
|
||
my petticoats, and lift them, together with my shift, navel-
|
||
high, where he just tuck'd them up loosely girt, and might be
|
||
slipt up higher at pleasure. Then viewing me round with
|
||
great seeming delight, he laid me at length on my face upon
|
||
the bench, and when I expected he would tie me, as I had done
|
||
him, and held out my hands, not without fear and a little
|
||
trembling, he told me he would by no means terrify me un-
|
||
necessarily with such a confinement; for that though he meant
|
||
to put my constancy to some trial, the standing it was to be
|
||
completely voluntary on my side, and therefore I might be at
|
||
full liberty to get up whenever I found the pain too much for
|
||
me. You cannot imagine how much I thought myself bound, by
|
||
being thus allow'd to remain loose, and how much spirit this
|
||
confidence in me gave me, so that I was even from my heart
|
||
careless how much my flesh might suffer in honour of it.
|
||
|
||
All by back parts, naked half way up, were now fully at
|
||
his mercy: and first, he stood at a convenient distance, de-
|
||
lighting himself with a gloating survey of the attitude I lay
|
||
in, and of all the secret stores I thus expos'd to him in
|
||
fair display. Then, springing eagerly towards me, he cover'd
|
||
all those naked parts with a fond profusion of kisses; and
|
||
now, taking hold of the rod, rather wanton'd with me, in gen-
|
||
tle inflictions on those tender trembling masses of my flesh
|
||
behind, than in any way hurt them, till by degrees, he began
|
||
to tingle them with smarter lashes, so as to provoke a red
|
||
colour into them, which I knew, as well by the flagrant glow
|
||
I felt there, as by his telling me, they now emulated the
|
||
native roses of my other cheeks. When he had thus amus'd
|
||
himself with admiring and toying with them, he went on to
|
||
strike harder, and more hard; so that I needed all my patience
|
||
not to cry out, or complain at least. At last, he twigg'd me
|
||
so smartly as to fetch blood in more than one lash: at sight
|
||
of which he flung down the rod, flew to me, kissed away the
|
||
starting drops, and sucking the wounds eased a good deal of my
|
||
pain. But now raising me on my knees, and making me kneel
|
||
with them straddling wide, that tender part of me, naturally
|
||
the province of pleasure, not of pain, came in for its share
|
||
of suffering: for now, eyeing it wistfully, he directed the
|
||
rod so that the sharp ends of the twigs lighted there, so
|
||
sensibly, that I could not help wincing, and writhing my
|
||
limbs with smart; so that my contortions of body must neces-
|
||
sarily throw it into infinite variety of postures and points
|
||
of view, fit to feast the luxury of the eye. But still I
|
||
bore every thing without crying out: when presently giving me
|
||
another pause, he rush'd, as it were, on that part whose lips,
|
||
and round-about, had felt this cruelty, and by way of repara-
|
||
tion, glews his own to them; then he opened, shut, squeez'd
|
||
them, pluck'd softly the overgrowing moss, and all this in a
|
||
style of wild passionate rapture and enthusiasm, that ex-
|
||
press'd excess of pleasure; till betaking himself to the rod
|
||
again, encourag'd by my passiveness, and infuriated with this
|
||
strange taste of delight, he made my poor posteriours pay for
|
||
the ungovernableness of it; for now shewing them no quarter
|
||
the traitor cut me so, that I wanted but little of fainting
|
||
away, when he gave over. And yet I did not utter one groan,
|
||
or angry expostulation; but in heart I resolv'd nothing so
|
||
seriously, as never to expose myself again to the like ser-
|
||
verities.
|
||
|
||
You may guess then in what a curious pickle those soft
|
||
flesh-cushions of mine were, all sore, raw, and in fine, ter-
|
||
ribly clawed off; but so far from feeling any pleasure in it,
|
||
that the recent smart made me pout a little, and not with the
|
||
greatest air of satisfaction receive the compliments, and
|
||
after-caresses of the author of my pain.
|
||
|
||
As soon as my cloaths were huddled on in a little de-
|
||
cency, a supper was brought in by the discreet Mrs. Cole her-
|
||
self, which might have piqued the sensuality of a cardinal,
|
||
accompanied with a choice of the richest wines: all which she
|
||
set before us, and went out again, without having, by a word
|
||
or even by a smile, given us the least interruption or confu-
|
||
sion, in those moments of secrecy, that we were not yet ripe
|
||
to the admission of a third to.
|
||
|
||
I sat down then, still scarce in charity with my butch-
|
||
er, for such I could not help considering him, and was more-
|
||
over not a little piqued at the gay, satisfied air of his
|
||
countenance, which I thought myself insulted by. But when
|
||
the now necessary refreshment to me of a glass of wine, a
|
||
little eating (all the time observing a profound silence) had
|
||
somewhat cheer'd and restor'd me to spirits, and as the smart
|
||
began to go off, my good humour return'd accordingly: which
|
||
alteration not escaping him, he said and did everything that
|
||
could confirm me in, and indeed exalt it.
|
||
|
||
But scarce was supper well over, before a change so in-
|
||
credible was wrought in me, such violent, yet pleasingly irk-
|
||
some sensations took possession of me that I scarce knew how
|
||
to contain myself; the smart of the lashes was now converted
|
||
into such a prickly heat, such fiery tinglings, as made me
|
||
sigh, squeeze my thighs together, shift and wriggle about my
|
||
seat, with a furious restlessness; whilst these itching ar-
|
||
dours, thus excited in those parts on which the storm of dis-
|
||
cipline had principally fallen, detach'd legions of burning,
|
||
subtile, stimulating spirits, to their opposite spot and cen-
|
||
tre of assemblage, where their titillation rag'd so furiously,
|
||
that I was even stinging mad with them. No wonder then, that
|
||
in such a taking, and devour'd by flames that licked up all
|
||
modesty and reserve, my eyes, now charg'd brimful of the most
|
||
intense desire, fired on my companion very intelligible sig-
|
||
nals of distress: my companion, I say, who grew in them every
|
||
instant more amiable, and more necessary to my urgent wishes
|
||
and hopes of immediate ease.
|
||
|
||
Mr. Barville, no stranger by experience to these situa-
|
||
tions, soon knew the pass I was brought to, soon perceiv'd my
|
||
extreme disorder; in favour of which, removing the table out
|
||
of the way, he began a prelude that flatter'd me with instant
|
||
relief, to which I was not, however, so near as I imagin'd:
|
||
for as he was unbuttoned to me, and tried to provoke and
|
||
rouse to action his unactive torpid machine, he blushingly
|
||
own'd that no good was to be expected from it unless I took
|
||
it in hand to re-excite its languid loitering powers, by just
|
||
refreshing the smart of the yet recent blood-raw cuts, seeing
|
||
it could, no more than a boy's top, keep up without lashing.
|
||
Sensible then that I should work as much for my own profit as
|
||
his, I hurried my compliance with his desire, and abridging
|
||
the ceremonial, whilst he lean'd his head against the back of
|
||
a chair, I had scarce gently made him feel the lash, before I
|
||
saw the object of my wishes give signs of life, and presently,
|
||
as it were with a magic touch, it started up into a noble size
|
||
and distinction indeed! Hastening then to give me the benefit
|
||
of it, he threw me down on the bench; but such was the re-
|
||
fresh'd soreness of those parts behind, on my leaning so hard
|
||
on them, as became me to compass the admission of that stupen-
|
||
dous head of his machine, that I could not possibly bear it.
|
||
I got up then, and tried, by leaning forwards and turning the
|
||
crupper on my assailant, to let him at the back avenue: but
|
||
here it was likewise impossible to stand his bearing so
|
||
fiercely against me, in his agitations and endeavours to enter
|
||
that way, whilst his belly battered directly against the
|
||
recent sore. What should we do now? both intolerably heated;
|
||
both in a fury; but pleasure is ever inventive for its own
|
||
ends: he strips me in a trice, stark naked, and placing a
|
||
broad settee-cushion on the carpet before the fire, oversets
|
||
me gently, topsy-turvy, on it; and handling me only at the
|
||
waist, whilst you may be sure I favour'd all my dispositions,
|
||
brought my legs round his neck; so that my head was kept from
|
||
the floor only by my hands and the velvet cushion, which was
|
||
now bespread with my flowing hair: thus I stood on my head
|
||
and hands, supported by him in such manner, that whilst my
|
||
thighs clung round him, so as to expose to his sight all my
|
||
back figure, including the theatre of his bloody pleasure,
|
||
the centre of my fore part fairly bearded the object of its
|
||
rage, that now stood in fine condition to give me satisfaction
|
||
for the injuries of its neighbours. But as this posture was
|
||
certainly not the easiest, and our imaginations, wound up to
|
||
the height, could suffer no delay, he first, with the utmost
|
||
eagerness and effort, just lip-lodg'd that broad acorn-fas-
|
||
hion'd head of his instrument; and still frenzied by the fury
|
||
with which he had made that impression, he soon stuffed in
|
||
the rest; when now, with a pursuit of thrusts, fiercely urg'd,
|
||
he absolutely overpower'd and absorb'd all sense of pain and
|
||
uneasiness, whether from my wounds behind, my most untoward
|
||
posture, or the oversize of his stretcher, in an infinitely
|
||
predominant delight; when now all my whole spirits of life
|
||
and sensation, rushing impetuously to the cock-pit, where the
|
||
prize of pleasure was hotly in dispute and clustering to a
|
||
point there, I soon receiv'd the dear relief of nature from
|
||
these over-violent strains and provocations of it; harmoniz-
|
||
ing with which, my gallant spouted into me such a potent over-
|
||
flow of the balsamic injection, as soften'd and unedg'd all
|
||
those irritating stings of a new species of titillation, which
|
||
I had been so intolerably madden'd with, and restor'd the fer-
|
||
ment of my senses to some degree of composure.
|
||
|
||
I had now achiev'd this rare adventure ultimately much
|
||
more to my satisfaction than I had bespoken the nature of it
|
||
to turn out; nor was it much lessen'd, you may think, by my
|
||
spark's lavish praises of my constancy and complaisance, which
|
||
he gave weight to by a present that greatly surpassed my ut-
|
||
most expectation, besides his gratification to Mrs. Cole.
|
||
|
||
I was not, however, at any time, re-enticed to renew
|
||
with him, or resort again to the violent expedient of lashing
|
||
nature into more haste than good speed: which, by the way, I
|
||
conceive acts somewhat in the manner of a dose of Spanish
|
||
flies; with more pain perhaps, but less danger; and might be
|
||
necessary to him, but was nothing less so than to me, whose
|
||
appetite wanted the bridle more than the spur.
|
||
|
||
Mrs. Cole, to whom this adventurous exploit had more and
|
||
more endear'd me, looked on me now as a girl after her own
|
||
heart, afraid on nothing, and, on a good account, hardy enough
|
||
to fight all the weapons of pleasure through. Attentive then,
|
||
in consequence of these favourable conceptions, to promote
|
||
either my profit or pleasure, she had special regard for the
|
||
first, in a new gallant of a very singular turn, that she pro-
|
||
cur'd for and introduced to me.
|
||
|
||
This was a grave, staid, solemn, elderly gentleman whose
|
||
peculiar humour was a delight in combing fine tresses of hair;
|
||
and as I was perfectly headed to his taste, he us'd to come
|
||
constantly at my toilette hours, when I let down my hair as
|
||
loose as nature, and abandon'd it to him to do what he pleased
|
||
with it; and accordingly he would keep me an hour or more in
|
||
play with it, drawing the comb through it, winding the curls
|
||
round his fingers, even kissing it as he smooth'd it; and all
|
||
this led to no other use of my person, or any other liberties
|
||
whatever, any more than if a distinction of sexes had not
|
||
existed.
|
||
|
||
Another peculiarity of taste he had, which was to present
|
||
me with a dozen pairs of the whitest kid gloves at a time:
|
||
these he would divert himself with drawing on me, and then
|
||
biting off the fingers' ends; all which fooleries of a sickly
|
||
appetite, the old gentleman paid more liberally for than most
|
||
others did for more essential favours. This lasted till a
|
||
violent cough, seizing and laying him up, deliver'd me from
|
||
this most innocent and insipid trifler, for I never heard more
|
||
of him after his first retreat.
|
||
|
||
You may be sure a by-job of this sort interfer'd with no
|
||
other pursuit, or plan of life; which I led, in truth, with a
|
||
modesty and reserve that was less the work of virtue than of
|
||
exhausted novelty, a glut of pleasure, and easy circumstances,
|
||
that made me indifferent to any engagements in which pleasure
|
||
and profit were not eminently united; and such I could, with
|
||
the less impatience, wait for at the hands of time and for-
|
||
tune, as I was satisfy'd I could never mend my pennyworths,
|
||
having evidently been serv'd at the top of market, and even
|
||
been pamper'd with dainties: besides that, in the sacrifice
|
||
of a few momentary impulses, I found a secret satisfaction in
|
||
respecting myself, as well as preserving the life and fresh-
|
||
ness of my complexion. Louisa and Emily did not carry indeed
|
||
their reserve so high as I did; but still they were far from
|
||
cheap or abandon'd tho' two of their adventures seem'd to con-
|
||
tradict this general character, which, for their singularity,
|
||
I shall give you in course, beginning first with Emily's:
|
||
|
||
Louisa and she went one night to a ball, the first in
|
||
the habit of a shepherdess, Emily in that of a shepherd: I
|
||
saw them in their dresses before they went, and nothing in
|
||
nature could represent a prettier boy than this last did,
|
||
being so fair and well limbed. They had kept together for
|
||
some time, when Louisa, meeting an old acquaintance of hers,
|
||
very cordially gives her companion the drop, and leaves her
|
||
under the protection of her boy's habit, which was not much,
|
||
and of her discretion, which was, it seems, still less.
|
||
Emily, finding herself deserted, sauntered thoughtless about
|
||
a-while, and, as much for coolness and air as anything else,
|
||
at length pull'd off her mask and went to the sideboard;
|
||
where, eyed and mark'd out by a gentleman in a very handsome
|
||
domino, she was accosted by, and fell into chat with him.
|
||
The domino, after a little discourse, in which Emily doubt-
|
||
less distinguish'd her good nature and easiness more than her
|
||
wit, began to make violent love to her, and drawing her in-
|
||
sensibly to some benches at the lower end of the masquerade
|
||
room, for her to sit by him, where he squeez'd her hands,
|
||
pinch'd her cheeks, prais'd and played with her fine hair,
|
||
admired her complexion, and all in a style of courtship dash'd
|
||
with a certain oddity, that not comprehending the mystery of,
|
||
poor Emily attributed to his falling in with the humour of her
|
||
disguise; and being naturally not the cruellest of her profes-
|
||
sion, began to incline to a parley on those essentials. But
|
||
here was the stress of the joke: he took her really for what
|
||
she appear'd to be, a smock-fac'd boy; and she, forgetting her
|
||
dress, and of course ranging quite wide of his ideas, took all
|
||
those addresses to be paid to herself as a woman, which she
|
||
precisely owed to his not thinking her one. However, this
|
||
double error was push'd to such a height on both sides, that
|
||
Emily, who saw nothing in him but a gentleman of distinction
|
||
by those points of dress to which his disguise did not extend,
|
||
warmed too by the wine he had ply'd her with, and the caresses
|
||
he had lavished upon her, suffered herself to be persuaded to
|
||
go to a bagnio with him; and thus, losing sight of Mrs. Cole's
|
||
cautions, with a blind confidence, put herself into his hands,
|
||
to be carried wherever he pleased. For his part, equally
|
||
blinded by his wishes, whilst her egregious simplicity favour-
|
||
ed his deception more than the most exquisite art could have
|
||
done, he supposed, no doubt, that he had lighted on some soft
|
||
simpleton, fit for his purpose, or some kept minion broken to
|
||
his hand, who understood him perfectly well and enter'd into
|
||
his designs. But, be that as it would, he led her to a coach,
|
||
went into it with her, and brought her to a very handsome
|
||
apartment, with a bed in it; but whether it was a bagnio or
|
||
not, she could not tell, having spoken to nobody but himself.
|
||
But when they were alone together, and her enamorato began to
|
||
proceed to those extremities which instantly discover the sex,
|
||
she remark'd that no description could paint up to the life
|
||
the mixture of pique, confusion and disappointment that ap-
|
||
peared in his countenance, joined to the mournful exclamation:
|
||
"By heavens, a woman!" This at once opened her eyes, which
|
||
had hitherto been shut in downright stupidity. However, as if
|
||
he had meant to retrieve that escape, he still continu'd to
|
||
toy with and fondle her, but with so staring an alteration
|
||
from extreme warmth into a chill and forced civility, that
|
||
even Emily herself could not but take notice of it, and now
|
||
began to wish she had paid more regard to Mrs. Cole's premon-
|
||
itions against ever engaging with a stranger. And now and
|
||
excess of timidity succeeded to an excess of confidence, and
|
||
she thought herself so much at his mercy and discretion, that
|
||
she stood passive throughout the whole progress of his pre-
|
||
lude: for now, whether the impressions of so great a beauty
|
||
had even made him forgive her her sex, or whether her appear-
|
||
ance of figure in that dress still humour'd his first illu-
|
||
sion, he recover'd by degrees a good part of his first warmth,
|
||
and keeping Emily with her breeches still unbuttoned, stript
|
||
them down to her knees, and gently impelling her to lean down,
|
||
with her face against the bed-side, placed her so, that the
|
||
double way, between the double rising behind, presented the
|
||
choice fair to him, and he was so fairly set on a mis-direc-
|
||
tion, as to give the girl no small alarms for fear of losing
|
||
a maidenhead she had not dreamt of. However, her complaints,
|
||
and a resistance, gentle, but firm, check'd and brought him
|
||
to himself again; so that turning his steed's head, he drove
|
||
him at length in the right road, in which his imagination
|
||
having probably made the most of those resemblances that
|
||
flatter'd his taste, he got, with much ado, to his journey's
|
||
end: after which, he led her out himself, and walking with
|
||
her two or three streets' length, got her a chair, when mak-
|
||
ing her a present not any thing inferior to what she could
|
||
have expected, he left her, well recommended to the chairman,
|
||
who, on her directions, brought her home.
|
||
|
||
This she related to Mrs. Cole and me the same morning,
|
||
not without the visible remains of the fear and confusion she
|
||
had been in still stamp'd on her countenance. Mrs. Cole's
|
||
remark was that her indescretion proceeding from a constitu-
|
||
tional facility, there were little hopes of any thing curing
|
||
her of it, but repeated severe experience. Mine was that I
|
||
could not conceive how it was possible for mankind to run
|
||
into a taste, not only universally odious, but absurd, and
|
||
impossible to gratify; since, according to the notions and
|
||
experience I had of things, it was not in nature to force
|
||
such immense disproportions. Mrs. Cole only smil'd at my
|
||
ignorance, and said nothing towards my undeception, which was
|
||
not affected but by ocular demonstration, some months after,
|
||
which a most singular accident furnish'd me, and which I will
|
||
here set down, that I may not return again to so disagreeable
|
||
a subject.
|
||
|
||
I had, on a visit intended to Harriet, who had taken
|
||
lodgings at Hampton-court, hired a chariot to go out thither,
|
||
Mrs. Cole having promis'd to accompany me; but some indis-
|
||
pensable business intervening to detain her, I was obliged to
|
||
set out alone; and scarce had I got a third of my way, before
|
||
the axle-tree broke down, and I was well off to get out, safe
|
||
and unhurt, into a publick-house of a tolerable handsome ap-
|
||
pearance, on the road. Here the people told me that the
|
||
stage would come by in a couple of hours at farthest; upon
|
||
which, determining to wait for it, sooner than lose the jaunt
|
||
I had got so far forward on, I was carried into a very clean
|
||
decent room, up one pair of stairs, which I took possession of
|
||
for the time I had to stay, in right of calling for sufficient
|
||
to do the house justice.
|
||
|
||
Here, whilst I was amusing myself with looking out of the
|
||
window, a single horse-chaise stopt at the door, out of which
|
||
lightly leap'd two gentlemen, for so they seem'd, who came in
|
||
only as it were to bait and refresh a little, for they gave
|
||
their horse to be held in readiness against they came out.
|
||
And presently I heard the door of the next room, where they
|
||
were let in, and call'd about them briskly; and as soon as
|
||
they were serv'd, I could just hear that they shut and fast-
|
||
ened the door on the inside.
|
||
|
||
A spirit of curiosity, far from sudden, since I do not
|
||
know when I was without it, prompted me, without any parti-
|
||
cular suspicion, or other drift or view, to see what they
|
||
were, and examine their persons and behaviour. The partition
|
||
of our rooms was one of those moveable ones that, when taken
|
||
down, serv'd occasionally to lay them into one, for the con-
|
||
veniency of a large company; and now, my nicest search could
|
||
not shew me the shadow of a peep-hole, a circumstance which
|
||
probably had not escap'd the review of the parties on the
|
||
other side, whom much it stood upon not to be deceived in it;
|
||
but at length I observed a paper patch of the same colour as
|
||
the wainscot, which I took to conceal some flaw: but then it
|
||
was so high, that I was obliged to stand upon a chair to
|
||
reach it, which I did as softly as possibly, and, with a point
|
||
of a bodkin, soon pierc'd it. And now, applying my eye close,
|
||
I commanded the room perfectly, and could see my two young
|
||
sparks romping and pulling one another about, entirely, to my
|
||
imagination, in frolic and innocent play.
|
||
|
||
The eldest might be, on my nearest guess, towards nine-
|
||
teen, a tall comely young man, in a white fustian frock, with
|
||
a green velvet cape, and a cut bob-wig.
|
||
|
||
The youngest could not be above seventeen, fair, ruddy,
|
||
compleatly well made, and to say the truth, a sweet pretty
|
||
stripling: he was--I fancy, too, a country-lad, by his dress,
|
||
which was a green plush frock and breeches of the same, white
|
||
waistcoat and stockings, a jockey cap, with his yellowish
|
||
hair, long and loose, in natural curls.
|
||
|
||
But after a look of circumspection, which I saw the
|
||
eldest cast every way round the room, probably in too much
|
||
hurry and heat not to overlook the very small opening I was
|
||
posted at, especially at the height it was, whilst my eye
|
||
close to it kept the light from shining through and betraying
|
||
it, he said something to his companion and presently chang'd
|
||
the face of things.
|
||
|
||
For now the elder began to embrace, to press and kiss the
|
||
younger, to put his hands into his bosom, and give him such
|
||
manifest signs of an amorous intention, as made me conclude
|
||
the other to be a girl in disguise: a mistake that nature kept
|
||
me in countenance for, for she had certainly made one, when
|
||
she gave him the male stamp.
|
||
|
||
In the rashness then of their age, and bent as they were
|
||
to accomplish their project of preposterous pleasure, at the
|
||
risk of the very worst of consequences, where a discovery was
|
||
nothing less than improbable, they now proceeded to such
|
||
lengths as soon satisfied me what they were.
|
||
|
||
The criminal scene they acted, I had the patience to see
|
||
to an end, purely that I might gather more facts and certainly
|
||
against them in my design to do their deserts instance jus-
|
||
tice; and accordingly, when they had readjusted themselves,
|
||
and were preparing to go out, burning as I was with rage and
|
||
indignation, I jumped down from the chair, in order to raise
|
||
the house upon them, but with such an unlucky impetuosity,
|
||
that some nail or ruggedness in the floor caught my foot, and
|
||
flung me on my face with such violence that I fell senseless
|
||
on the ground, and must have lain there some time e'er any
|
||
one came to my relief: so that they, alarmed, I suppose, by
|
||
the noise of my fall, had more than the necessary time to
|
||
make a safe retreat. This they effected, as I learnt, with a
|
||
precipitation nobody could account for, till, when come to
|
||
myself, and compos'd enough to speak, I acquainted those of
|
||
the house with the whole transaction I had been evidence to.
|
||
|
||
When I came home again, and told Mrs. Cole this adven-
|
||
ture, she very sensibly observ'd to me that there was no doubt
|
||
of due vengeance one time of other overtaking these miscre-
|
||
ants, however they might escape for the present; and that, had
|
||
I been the temporal instrument of it, I should have been at
|
||
least put to a great deal more trouble and confusion that I
|
||
imagined; that, as to the thing itself, the less said of it
|
||
was the better; but that though she might be suspected of
|
||
partiality, from its being the common cause of woman-kind, out
|
||
of whose mouths this practice tended to take something more
|
||
than bread, yet she protested against any mixture of passion,
|
||
with a declaration extorted from her by pure regard to truth;
|
||
which was that whatever effect this infamous passion had in
|
||
other ages and other countries, it seem'd a peculiar blessing
|
||
on our air and climate, that there was a plague-spot visibly
|
||
imprinted on all that are tainted with it, in this nation at
|
||
least; for that among numbers of that stamp whom she had
|
||
known, or at least were universally under the scandalous sus-
|
||
picion of it, she would not name an exception hardly of one
|
||
of them, whose character was not, in all other respects, the
|
||
most worthless and despicable that could be, stript of all
|
||
the manly virtues of their own sex, and fill'd up with only
|
||
the worst vices and follies of ours: that, in fine, they were
|
||
scarce less execrable than ridiculous in their monstrous in-
|
||
consistence, of loathing and condemning women, and all at the
|
||
same time apeing all their manners, air, lips, skuttle, and,
|
||
in general, all their little modes of affectation, which be-
|
||
come them at least better than they do these unsex'd male-
|
||
misses.
|
||
|
||
But here, washing my hands of them, I re-plunge into the
|
||
stream of my history, into which I may very properly ingraft
|
||
a terrible sally of Louisa's, since I had some share in it
|
||
myself, and have besides engag'd myself to relate it, in point
|
||
of countenance to poor Emily. It will add, too, one more
|
||
example to thousands, in confirmation of the maxim that when
|
||
women get once out of compass, there are no lengths of licen-
|
||
tiousness that they are not capable of running.
|
||
|
||
One morning then, that both Mrs. Cole and Emily were gone
|
||
out for the day, and only Louisa and I (not to mention the
|
||
house-maid) were left in charge of the house, whilst we were
|
||
loitering away the time in looking through the shop windows,
|
||
the son of a poor woman, who earned very hard bread indeed by
|
||
mending stockings, in a stall in the neighbourhood, offer'd us
|
||
some nosegays, ring'd round a small basket; by selling of
|
||
which the poor boy eked out his mother's maintenance of them
|
||
both: nor was he fit for any other way of livelihood, since he
|
||
was not only a perfect changeling, or idiot, but stammer'd so
|
||
that there was no understanding even those sounds his half-
|
||
dozen, at most, animal ideas prompted him to utter.
|
||
|
||
The boys and servants in the neighbourhood had given him
|
||
the nick-name of Good-natured Dick, from the soft simpleton's
|
||
doing everything he was bid at the first word, and from his
|
||
naturally having no turn to mischief; then, by the way, he
|
||
was perfectly well made, stout, clean-limb'd, tall of his age,
|
||
as strong as a horse and, withal, pretty featur'd; so that he
|
||
was not, absolutely, such a figure to be snuffled at neither,
|
||
if your nicety could, in favour of such essentials, have dis-
|
||
pens'd with a face unwashed, hair tangled for want of comb-
|
||
ing, and so ragged a plight, that he might have disputed
|
||
points of shew with e'er a heathen philosopher of them all.
|
||
|
||
This boy we had often seen, and bought his flowers, out
|
||
of pure compassion, and nothing more; but just at this time
|
||
as he stood presenting us his basket, a sudden whim, a start
|
||
of wayward fancy, seiz'd Louisa; and, without consulting me,
|
||
she calls him in, and beginning to examine his nosegays,
|
||
culls out two, one for herself, another for me, and pulling
|
||
out half a crown, very currently gives it him to change, as
|
||
if she had really expected he could have changed it: but the
|
||
boy, scratching his head, made his signs explaining his in-
|
||
ability in place of words, which he could not, with all his
|
||
struggling, articulate.
|
||
|
||
Louisa, at this, says: "Well, my lad, come up-stairs
|
||
with me, and I will give you your due," winking at the same
|
||
time to me, and beckoning me to accompany her, which I did,
|
||
securing first the street-door, that by this means, together
|
||
with the shop, became wholly the care of the faithful house-
|
||
maid.
|
||
|
||
As we went up, Louisa whispered to me that she had con-
|
||
ceiv'd a strange longing to be satisfy'd, whether the general
|
||
rule held good with regard to this changeling, and how far
|
||
nature had made him amends, in her best bodily gifts, for her
|
||
denial of the sublimer intellectual ones; begging, at the
|
||
same time, my assistance in procuring her this satisfaction.
|
||
A want of complaisance was never my vice, and I was so far
|
||
from opposing this extravagant frolic, that now, bit with the
|
||
same maggot, and my curiosity conspiring with hers, I enter'd
|
||
plum into it, on my own account.
|
||
|
||
Consequently, as soon as we came into Louisa's bed-
|
||
chamber, whilst she was amusing him with picking out his
|
||
nosegays, I undertook the lead, and began the attack. As it
|
||
was not then very material to keep much measures with a mere
|
||
natural, I made presently very free with him, though at my
|
||
first motion of meddling, his surprize and confusion made
|
||
him receive my advances but aukwardly: nay, insomuch that he
|
||
bashfully shy'd, and shy'd back a little; till encouraging
|
||
him with my eyes, plucking him playfully by the hair, sleeking
|
||
his cheeks, and forwarding my point by a number of little
|
||
wantonness, I soon turn'd him familiar, and gave nature her
|
||
sweetest alarm: so that arous'd, and beginning to feel him-
|
||
self, we could, amidst all the innocent laugh and grin I had
|
||
provoked him into, perceive the fire lighting in his eyes,
|
||
and, diffusing over his cheeks, blend its glow with that of
|
||
his blushes. The emotion in short of animal pleasure glar'd
|
||
distinctly in the simpleton's countenance; yet, struck with
|
||
the novelty of the scene, he did not know which way to look
|
||
or move; but tame, passive, simpering, with his mouth half
|
||
open in stupid rapture, stood and tractably suffer'd me to
|
||
do what I pleased with him. His basket was dropt out of his
|
||
hands, which Louisa took care of.
|
||
|
||
I had now, through more than one rent, discovered and
|
||
felt his thighs, the skin of which seemed the smoother and
|
||
fairer for the coarseness, and even dirt of his dress, as
|
||
the teeth of Negroes seem the whiter for the surrounding
|
||
black; and poor indeed of habit, poor of understanding, he
|
||
was, however, abundantly rich in personal treasures, such as
|
||
flesh, firm, plump, and replete with the juices of youth,
|
||
and robust well-knit limbs. My fingers too had now got with-
|
||
in reach of the true, the genuine sensitive plant, which,
|
||
instead of shrinking from the touch, joys to meet it, and
|
||
swells and vegetates under it: mine pleasingly informed me
|
||
that matters were so ripe for the discovery we meditated,
|
||
that they were too mighty for the confinement they were ready
|
||
to break. A waistband that I unskewer'd, and a rag of a shirt
|
||
that I removed, and which could not have cover'd a quarter of
|
||
it, revealed the whole of the idiot's standard of distinction,
|
||
erect, in full pride and display: but such a one! it was posi-
|
||
tively of so tremendous a size, that prepared as we were to
|
||
see something extraordinary, it still, out of measure, sur-
|
||
pass'd our expectation, and astonish'd even me, who had not
|
||
been used to trade in trifles. In fine, it might have answer-
|
||
ed very well the making a show of; its enormous head seemed,
|
||
in hue and size, not unlike a common sheep's heart; then you
|
||
might have troll'd dice securely along the broad back of the
|
||
body of it; the length of it too was prodigious; then the rich
|
||
appendage of the treasure-bag beneath, large in proportion,
|
||
gather'd adn crisp'd up round in shallow furrows, helped to
|
||
fill the eye, and complete the proof of his being a natural,
|
||
not quite in vain; since it was full manifest that he inherit-
|
||
ed, and largely too, the prerogative of majesty which distin-
|
||
guishes that otherwise most unfortunate condition, and gives
|
||
rise to the vulgar saying "A fool's bauble is a lady's play-
|
||
fellow." Not wholly without reason: for, generally speaking,
|
||
it is in love as it is in war, where longest weapon carries
|
||
it. Nature, in short, had done so much for him in those
|
||
parts, that she perhaps held herself acquitted in doing so
|
||
little for his head.
|
||
|
||
For my part, who had sincerely no intention to push the
|
||
joke further than simply satisfying my curiosity with the
|
||
sight of it alone, I was content, in spite of the temptation
|
||
that star'd me in the face, with having rais'd a May-pole
|
||
for another to hang a garland on: for, by this time, easily
|
||
reading Louisa's desires in her wishful eyes, I acted the
|
||
commodious part and made her, who sought no better sport,
|
||
significant terms of encouragement to go through-stitch with
|
||
her adventure; intimating too that I would stay and see fair
|
||
play: in which, indeed, I had in view to humour a new-born
|
||
curiosity, to observe what appearances active nature would put
|
||
on in a natural, in the course of this her darling operation.
|
||
|
||
Louisa, whose appetite was up, and who, like the indus-
|
||
trious bee, was, it seems, not above gathering the sweets of
|
||
so rare a flower, tho' she found it planted on a dunghill,
|
||
was but too readily disposed to take the benefit of my
|
||
cession. Urg'd then strongly by her own desires, and em-
|
||
bolden'd by me, she presently determined to risk a trial of
|
||
parts with the idiot, who was by this time nobly inflam'd
|
||
for her purpose, by all the irritations we had used to put
|
||
the principles of pleasure effectually into motion, and to
|
||
wind up the springs of its organ to their supreme pitch; and
|
||
it stood accordingly stiff and straining, ready to burst with
|
||
the blood and spirits that swelled it . . . to a bulk! No!
|
||
I shall never forget it.
|
||
|
||
Louisa then, taking and holding the fine handle that
|
||
so invitingly offer'd itself, led the ductile youth by that
|
||
master-tool of his, as she stept backward towards the bed;
|
||
which he joyfully gave way to, under the incitations of in-
|
||
stinct and palpably deliver'd up to the goad of desire.
|
||
|
||
Stopped then by the bed, she took the fall she lov'd,
|
||
and lean'd to the most, gently backward upon it, still hold-
|
||
ing fast what she held, and taking care to give her cloaths
|
||
a convenient toss up, so that her thighs duly disclos'd, and
|
||
elevated, laid open all the outward prospect of the treasury
|
||
of love: the rose-lipt overture presenting the cock-pit so
|
||
fair, that it was not in nature even for a natural to miss it.
|
||
Nor did he, for Louisa, fully bent on grappling with it, and
|
||
impatient of dalliance or delay, directed faithfully the point
|
||
of the battering-piece, and bounded up with a rage of so vora-
|
||
cious appetite, to meet and favour the thrust of insertion,
|
||
that the fierce activity on both sides effected it with such
|
||
pain of distention, that Louisa cry'd out violently that she
|
||
was hurt beyond bearing, that she was killed. But it was too
|
||
late: the storm was up, and force was on her to give way to
|
||
it; for now the man-machine, strongly work'd upon by the sen-
|
||
sual passion, felt so manfully his advantages and superiority,
|
||
felt withal the sting of pleasure so intolerable, that madden-
|
||
ing with it, his joys began to assume a character of furious-
|
||
ness which made me tremble for the too tender Louisa. He
|
||
seemed, at this juncture, greater than himself; his counten-
|
||
ance, before so void of meaning, or expression, now grew big
|
||
with the importance of the act he was upon. In short, it was
|
||
not now that he was to be play'd the fool with. But, what is
|
||
pleasant enough, I myself was aw'd into a sort of respect for
|
||
him, by the comely terrors his motions dressed him in: his
|
||
eyes shooting sparks of fire; his face glowing with ardours
|
||
that gave another life to it; his teeth churning; his whole
|
||
frame agitated with a raging ungovernable impetuosity: all
|
||
sensibly betraying the formidable fierceness with which the
|
||
genial instinct acted upon him. Butting then and goring all
|
||
before him, and mad and wild like an over-driven steer, he
|
||
ploughs up the tender furrow, all insensible to Louisa's com-
|
||
plaints; nothing can stop, nothing can keep out a fury like
|
||
his: with which, having once got its head in, its blind rage
|
||
soon made way for the rest, piercing, rending, and breaking
|
||
open all obstructions. The torn, split, wounded girl cries,
|
||
struggles, invokes me to her rescue, and endeavours to get
|
||
from under the young savage, or shake him off, but alas! in
|
||
vain: her breath might as soon have still'd or stemm'd a storm
|
||
in winter, as all her strength have quell'd his rough assault,
|
||
or put him out of his course. And indeed, all her efforts and
|
||
struggles were manag'd with such disorder, that they serv'd
|
||
rather to entangle, and fold her the faster in the twine of
|
||
his boisterous arms; so that she was tied to the stake, and
|
||
oblig'd to fight the match out, if she died for it. For his
|
||
part, instinct-ridden as he was, the expressions of his animal
|
||
passion, partaking something of ferocity, were rather worrying
|
||
than kisses, intermix'd with eager ravenous love-bites on her
|
||
cheeks and neck, the prints of which did not wear out for some
|
||
days after.
|
||
|
||
Poor Louisa, however, bore up at length better than could
|
||
have been expected; and though she suffer'd, and greatly too,
|
||
yet, ever true to the good old cause, she suffer'd with plea-
|
||
sure and enjoyed her pain. And soon now, by dint of an en-
|
||
rag'd enforcement, the brute-machine, driven like a whirl-
|
||
wind, made all smoke again, and wedging its way up, to the
|
||
utmost extremity, left her, in point of penetration, nothing
|
||
to fear or to desire: and now,
|
||
|
||
"Gorg'd with the dearest morsel of the earth,"
|
||
(Shakespeare.)
|
||
|
||
Louisa lay, pleas'd to the heart, pleas'd to her utmost capa-
|
||
city of being so, with every fibre in those parts, stretched
|
||
almost to breaking, on a rack of joy, whilst the instrument
|
||
of all this overfulness searched her senses with its sweet
|
||
excess, till the pleasure gained upon her so, its point stung
|
||
her so home, that catching at length the rage from her fur-
|
||
ious driver and sharing the riot of his wild rapture, she
|
||
went wholly out of her mind into that favourite part of her
|
||
body, the whole intenseness of which was so fervously fill'd,
|
||
and employ'd: there alone she existed, all lost in those de-
|
||
lirious transports, those extasies of the senses, which her
|
||
winking eyes, the brighten'd vermilion of her lips and cheeks,
|
||
and sighs of pleasure deeply fetched, so pathetically ex-
|
||
press'd. In short, she was now as mere a machine as much
|
||
wrought on, and had her motions as little at her own command
|
||
as the natural himself, who thus broke in upon her, made her
|
||
feel with a vengeance his tempestuous tenderness, and the
|
||
force of the mettle he battered with; their active loins
|
||
quivered again with the violence of their conflict, till the
|
||
surge of pleasure, foaming and raging to a height, drew down
|
||
the pearly shower that was to allay this hurricane. The
|
||
purely sensitive idiot then first shed those tears of joy that
|
||
attend its last moments, not without an agony of delight and
|
||
even almost a roar of rapture, as the gush escaped him; so
|
||
sensibly too for Louisa, that she kept him faithful company,
|
||
going off, in consent, with the old symptoms: a delicious
|
||
delirium, a tremulous convulsive shudder, and the critical
|
||
dying Oh! And now, on his getting off, she lay pleasure-
|
||
drench'd, and re-gorging its essential sweets; but quite
|
||
spent, and gasping for breath, without other sensation of
|
||
life than in those exquisite vibrations that trembled yet on
|
||
the strings of delight, which had been too intensively
|
||
touched, and which nature had been so intensly stirred with,
|
||
for the senses to be quickly at peace from.
|
||
|
||
As for the changeling, whose curious engine had been
|
||
thus successfully played off, his shift of countenance and
|
||
gesture had even something droll, or rather tragi-comic in
|
||
it: there was now an air of sad repining foolishness, super-
|
||
added to his natural one of no-meaning and idiotism, as he
|
||
stood with his label of manhood, now lank, unstiffen'd, be-
|
||
calm'd, and flapping against his thighs, down which it reach'd
|
||
half-way, terrible even in its fall, whilst under the dejec-
|
||
tion of spirit and flesh, which naturally followed, his eyes,
|
||
by turns, cast down towards his struck standard, or piteously
|
||
lifted to Louisa, seemed to require at her hands what he had
|
||
so sensibly parted from to her, and now ruefully miss'd. But
|
||
the vigour of nature, soon returning, dissipated the blast of
|
||
faintness which the common law of enjoyment had subjected him
|
||
to; and now his basket re-became his main concern, which I
|
||
look'd for, and brought him, whilst Louisa restor'd his dress
|
||
to its usual condition, and afterwards pleased him perhaps
|
||
more by taking all his flowers off his hands, and paying him,
|
||
at his rate, for them, than if she had embarrass'd him by a
|
||
present that he would have been puzzled to account for, and
|
||
might have put others on tracing the motives of.
|
||
|
||
Whether she ever return'd to the attack I know not, and,
|
||
to say the truth, I believe not. She had had her freak out,
|
||
and had pretty plentifully drown'd her curiosity in a glut of
|
||
pleasure, which, as it happened, had no other consequence
|
||
than that the lad, who retain'd only a confused memory of the
|
||
transaction, would, when he saw her, for some time after,
|
||
express a grin of joy and familiarity, after his idiot manner,
|
||
and soon forgot her in favour of the next woman, tempted, on
|
||
the report of his parts, to take him in.
|
||
|
||
Part 10
|
||
|
||
Louisa herself did not long outstay this adventure at
|
||
Mrs. Cole's (to whom, by-the-bye, we took care not to boast
|
||
of our exploit, till all fear of consequences were clearly
|
||
over): for an occasion presenting itself of proving her
|
||
passion for a young fellow, at the expense of her discretion,
|
||
proceeding all in character, she pack'd up her toilet at half
|
||
a day's warning and went with him abroad, since which I
|
||
entirely lost sight of her, and it never fell in my way to
|
||
hear what became of her.
|
||
|
||
But a few days after she had left us, two very pretty
|
||
young gentlemen, who were Mrs. Cole's especial favourites,
|
||
and free of her academy, easily obtain'd her consent for
|
||
Emily's and my acceptance of a party of pleasure at a little
|
||
but agreeable house belonging to one of them, situated not
|
||
far up the river Thames, on the Surry side.
|
||
|
||
Everything being settled, and it being a fine summer-
|
||
day, but rather of the warmest, we set out after dinner, and
|
||
got to our rendez-vous about four in the afternoon; where,
|
||
landing at the foot of a neat, joyous pavillion, Emily and I
|
||
were handed into it by our squires, and there drank tea with
|
||
a cheerfulness and gaiety that the beauty of the prospect,
|
||
the serenity of the weather, and the tender politeness of our
|
||
sprightly gallants naturally led us into.
|
||
|
||
After tea, and taking a turn in the garden, my particu-
|
||
lar, who was the master of the house, and had in no sense
|
||
schem'd this party of pleasure for a dry one, propos'd to us,
|
||
with that frankness which his familiarity at Mrs. Cole's
|
||
entitled him to, as the weather was excessively hot, to bathe
|
||
together, under a commodious shelter that he had prepared
|
||
expressly for that purpose, in a creek of the river, with
|
||
which a side-door of the pavilion immediately communicated,
|
||
and where we might be sure of having our diversion out, safe
|
||
from interruption, and with the utmost privacy.
|
||
|
||
Emily, who never refus'd anything, and I, who ever
|
||
delighted in bathing, and had no exception to the person who
|
||
propos'd it, or to those pleasures it was easy to guess it
|
||
implied, took care, on this occasion, not to wrong our
|
||
training at Mrs. Cole's, and agreed to it with as good a
|
||
grace as we could. Upon which, without loss of time, we
|
||
return'd instantly to the pavilion, one door of which open'd
|
||
into a tent, pitch'd before it, that with its marquise,
|
||
formed a pleasing defense against the sun, or the weather,
|
||
and was besides as private as we could wish. The lining of
|
||
it, imbossed cloth, represented a wild forest-foliage, from
|
||
the top down to the sides, which, in the same stuff, were
|
||
figur'd with fluted pilasters, with their spaces between
|
||
fill'd with flower-vases, the whole having a gay effect upon
|
||
the eye, wherever you turn'd it.
|
||
|
||
Then it reached sufficiently into the water, yet con-
|
||
tain'd convenient benches round it, on the dry ground, either
|
||
to keep our cloaths, or . . ., or . . ., in short, for more
|
||
uses than resting upon. There was a side-table too, loaded
|
||
with sweetmeats, jellies, and other eatables, and bottles of
|
||
wine and cordials, by way of occasional relief from any raw-
|
||
ness, or chill of the water, or from any faintness from what-
|
||
ever cause; and in fact, my gallant, who understood chere
|
||
entiere perfectly, and who, for taste (even if you would not
|
||
approve this specimen of it) might have been comptroller of
|
||
pleasures to a Roman emperor, had left no requisite towards
|
||
convenience or luxury unprovided.
|
||
|
||
As soon as we had look'd round this inviting spot, and
|
||
every preliminary of privacy was duly settled, strip was the
|
||
word: when the young gentlemen soon dispatch'd the undressing
|
||
each his partner and reduced us to the naked confession of
|
||
all those secrets of person which dress generally hides, and
|
||
which the discovery of was, naturally speaking, not to our
|
||
disadvantage. Our hands, indeed, mechanically carried towards
|
||
the most interesting part of us, screened, at first, all from
|
||
the tufted cliff downwards, till we took them away at their
|
||
desire, and employed them in doing them the same office, of
|
||
helping off with their cloaths; in the process of which, there
|
||
pass'd all the little wantonnesses and frolicks that you may
|
||
easily imagine.
|
||
|
||
As for my spark, he was presently undressed, all to his
|
||
shirt, the fore-lappet of which as he lean'd languishingly on
|
||
me, he smilingly pointed to me to observe, as it bellied out,
|
||
or rose and fell, according to the unruly starts of the mo-
|
||
tion behind it; but it was soon fix'd, for now taking off his
|
||
shirt, and naked as a Cupid, he shew'd it me at so upright a
|
||
stand, as prepar'd me indeed for his application to me for
|
||
instant ease; but, tho' the sight of its fine size was fit
|
||
enough to fire me, the cooling air, as I stood in this state
|
||
of nature, joined to the desire I had of bathing first, en-
|
||
abled me to put him off, and tranquillize him, with the re-
|
||
mark that a little suspense would only set a keener edge on
|
||
the pleasure. Leading then the way, and shewing our friends
|
||
an example of continency, which they were giving signs of
|
||
losing respect to, we went hand in hand into the stream, till
|
||
it took us up to our neck, where the no more than grateful
|
||
coolness of the water gave my senses a delicious refreshment
|
||
from the sultriness of the season, and made more alive, more
|
||
happy in myself, and, in course, more alert, and open to
|
||
voluptuous impressions.
|
||
|
||
Here I lav'd and wanton'd with the water, or sportively
|
||
play'd with my companion, leaving Emily to deal with hers at
|
||
discretion. Mine, at length, not content with making me take
|
||
the plunge over head and ears, kept splashing me, and provok-
|
||
ing me with all the little playful tricks he could devise,
|
||
and which I strove not to remain in his debt for. We gave,
|
||
in short, a loose to mirth; and now, nothing would serve him
|
||
but giving his hands the regale of going over every part of
|
||
me, neck, breast, belly, thighs, and all the et cetera, so
|
||
dear to the imagination, under the pretext of washing and
|
||
rubbing them; as we both stood in the water, no higher now
|
||
than the pit of our stomachs, and which did not hinder him
|
||
from feeling, and toying with that leak that distinguishes
|
||
our sex, and it so wonderfully water-tight: for his fingers,
|
||
in vain dilating and opening it, only let more flame than
|
||
water into it, be it said without a figure. At the same time
|
||
he made me feel his own engine, which was so well wound up,
|
||
as to stand even the working in water, and he accordingly
|
||
threw one arm round my neck, and was endeavouring to get the
|
||
better of that harsher construction bred by the surrounding
|
||
fluid; and had in effect won his way so far as to make me
|
||
sensible of the pleasing stretch of those nether-lips, from
|
||
the in-driving machine; when, independent of my not liking
|
||
that aukward mode of enjoyment, I could not help interrupt-
|
||
ing him, in order to become joint spectators of a plan of
|
||
joy, in hot operation between Emily and her partner; who
|
||
impatient of the fooleries and dalliance of the bath, had led
|
||
his nymph to one of the benches on the green bank, where he
|
||
was very cordially proceeding to teach her the difference be-
|
||
twixt jest and earnest.
|
||
|
||
There, setting her on his knee, and gliding one hand over
|
||
the surface of that smooth polish'd snow-white skin of hers,
|
||
which now doubly shone with a dew-bright lustre, and presented
|
||
to the touch something like what one would imagine of animated
|
||
ivory, especially in those ruby-nippled globes, which the
|
||
touch is so fond of and delights to make love to, with the
|
||
other he was lusciously exploring the sweet secret of nature,
|
||
in order to make room for a stately piece of machinery, that
|
||
stood uprear'd, between her thighs, as she continued sitting
|
||
on his lap, and pressed hard for instant admission, which the
|
||
tender Emily, in a fit of humour deliciously protracted, af-
|
||
fecting to decline, and elude the very pleasure she sigh'd
|
||
for, but in a style of waywardness so prettily put on, and
|
||
managed, as to render it ten times more poignant; then her
|
||
eyes, all amidst the softest dying languishment, express'd at
|
||
once a mock denial and extreme desire, whilst her sweetness
|
||
was zested with a coyness so pleasingly provoking, her moods
|
||
of keeping him off were so attractive, that they redoubled
|
||
the impetuous rage with which he cover'd her with kisses: and
|
||
the kisses that, whilst she seemed to shy from or scuffle for,
|
||
the cunning wanton contrived such sly returns of, as were
|
||
doubtless the sweeter for the gust she gave them, of being
|
||
stolen ravished.
|
||
|
||
Thus Emily, who knew no art but that which nature itself,
|
||
in favour of her principal end, pleasure, had inspir'd her
|
||
with, the art of yielding, coy'd it indeed, but coy'd it to
|
||
the purpose; for with all her straining, her wrestling, and
|
||
striving to break from the clasp of his arms, she was so far
|
||
wiser yet than to mean it, that in her struggles, it was
|
||
visible she aim'd at nothing more than multiplying points of
|
||
touch with him, and drawing yet closer the folds that held
|
||
them every where entwined, like two tendrils of a vine inter-
|
||
curling together: so that the same effect, as when Louisa
|
||
strove in good earnest to disengage from the idiot, was now
|
||
produced by different motives.
|
||
|
||
Mean while, their emersion out of the cold water had
|
||
caused a general glow, a tender suffusion of heighten'd
|
||
carnation over their bodies; both equally white and smooth-
|
||
skinned; so that as their limbs were thus amorously inter-
|
||
woven, in sweet confusion, it was scarce possible to distin-
|
||
guish who they respectively belonged to, but for the brawnier,
|
||
bolder muscles of the stronger sex.
|
||
|
||
In a little time, however, the champion was fairly in
|
||
with her, and had tied at all points the true lover's knot;
|
||
when now, adieu all the little refinements of a finessed re-
|
||
luctance; adieu the friendly feint! She was presently driven
|
||
forcibly out of the power of using any art; and indeed, what
|
||
art must not give way, when nature, corresponding with her
|
||
assailant, invaded in the heart of her capital and carried by
|
||
storm, lay at the mercy of the proud conqueror who had made
|
||
his entry triumphantly and completely? Soon, however, to be-
|
||
come a tributary: for the engagement growing hotter and
|
||
hotter, at close quarters, she presently brought him to the
|
||
pass of paying down the dear debt to nature; which she had no
|
||
sooner collected in, but, like a duellist who has laid his
|
||
antagonist at his feet, when he has himself received a mortal
|
||
wound, Emily had scarce time to plume herself upon her vic-
|
||
tory, but, shot with the same discharge, she, in a loud ex-
|
||
piring sigh, in the closure of her eyes, the stretch-out of
|
||
her limbs, and a remission of her whole frame, gave manifest
|
||
signs that all was as it should be.
|
||
|
||
For my part, who had not with the calmest patience stood
|
||
in the water all this time, to view this warm action, I lean'd
|
||
tenderly on my gallant, and at the close of it, seemed'd to
|
||
ask him with my eyes what he thought of it; but he, more eager
|
||
to satisfy me by his actions than by words or looks, as we
|
||
shoal'd the water towards the shore, shewed me the staff of
|
||
love so intensely set up, that had not even charity beginning
|
||
at home in this case, urged me to our mutual relief, it would
|
||
have been cruel indeed to have suffered the youth to burst
|
||
with straining, when the remedy was so obvious and so near at
|
||
hand.
|
||
|
||
Accordingly we took to a bench, whilst Emily and her
|
||
spark, who belonged it seems to the sea, stood at the side-
|
||
board, drinking to our good voyage: for, as the last observ'd,
|
||
we were well under weigh, with a fair wind up channel, and
|
||
full-freighted; nor indeed were we long before we finished our
|
||
trip to Cythera, and unloaded in the old haven; but, as the
|
||
circumstances did not admit of much variation, I shall spare
|
||
you the description.
|
||
|
||
At the same time, allow me to place you here an excuse
|
||
I am conscious of owing you, for having, perhaps, too much
|
||
affected the figurative style; though surely, it can pass no-
|
||
where more allowably than in a subject which is so properly
|
||
the province of poetry, nay, is poetry itself, pregnant with
|
||
every flower of imagination and loving metaphors, even were
|
||
not the natural expressions, for respects of fashion and
|
||
sound, necessarily forbid it.
|
||
|
||
Resuming now my history, you may please to know that
|
||
what with a competent number of repetitions, all in the same
|
||
strain (and, by-the-bye, we have a certain natural sense that
|
||
those repetitions are very much to the taste), what with a
|
||
circle of pleasures delicately varied, there was not a moment
|
||
lost to joy all the time we staid there, till late in the
|
||
night we were re-escorted home by our squires, who delivered
|
||
us safe to Mrs. Cole, with generous thanks for our company.
|
||
|
||
This too was Emily's last adventure in our way: for
|
||
scarce a week after, she was, by an accident too trivial to
|
||
detail to you the particulars, found out by her parents, who
|
||
were in good circumstances, and who had been punish'd for
|
||
their partiality to their son, in the loss of him, occasion'd
|
||
by a circumstance of their over-indulgence to his appetite;
|
||
upon which the so long engross'd stream of fondness, running
|
||
violently in favour of this lost and inhumanly abandon'd child
|
||
whom if they had not neglected enquiry about, they might long
|
||
before have recovered. They were now so overjoyed at the re-
|
||
trieval of her, that, I presume, it made them much less strict
|
||
in examining the bottom of things: for they seem'd very glad
|
||
to take for granted, in the lump, everything that the grave
|
||
and decent Mrs. Cole was pleased to pass upon them; and soon
|
||
afterwards sent her, from the country, a handsome acknowledge-
|
||
ment.
|
||
|
||
But it was not so easy to replace to our community the
|
||
loss of so sweet a member of it: for, not to mention her
|
||
beauty, she was one of those mild, pliant characters that if
|
||
one does not entirely esteem, one can scarce help loving,
|
||
which is not such a bad compensation neither. Owing all her
|
||
weakness to good-nature, and an indolent facility that kept
|
||
her too much at the mercy of first impressions, she had just
|
||
sense enough to know that she wanted leading-strings, and
|
||
thought herself so much obliged to any who would take the
|
||
pains to think for her, and guide her, that with a very little
|
||
management, she was capable of being made a most agreeable,
|
||
nay, a most virtuous wife: for vice, it is probable, had never
|
||
been her choice, or her fate, if it had not been for occasion,
|
||
or example, or had she not depended less upon herself than
|
||
upon her circumstances. This presumption her conduct after-
|
||
wards verified: for presently meeting with a match that was
|
||
ready cut and dry for her, with a neighbour's son of her own
|
||
rank, and a young man of sense and order, who took her as the
|
||
widow of one lost at sea (for so it seems one of her gallants,
|
||
whose name she had made free with, really was), she naturally
|
||
struck into all the duties of their domestic life with as much
|
||
constancy and regularity, as if she had never swerv'd from a
|
||
state of undebauch'd innocence from her youth.
|
||
|
||
These desertions had, however, now so far thinned Mrs.
|
||
Cole's brood that she was left with only me like a hen with
|
||
one chicken; but tho' she was earnestly entreated and encou-
|
||
rag'd to recruit her corps, her growing infirmities, and,
|
||
above all, the tortures of a stubborn hip-gout, which she
|
||
found would yield to no remedy, determin'd her to bread up her
|
||
business and retire with a decent pittance into the country,
|
||
where I promis'd myself nothing so sure, as my going down to
|
||
live with her as soon as I had seen a little more of life and
|
||
improv'd my small matters into a competency that would create
|
||
in me an independence on the world: for I was, now, thanks to
|
||
Mrs. Cole, wise enough to keep that essential in view.
|
||
|
||
Thus was I then to lose my faithful preceptress, as did
|
||
the Philosophers of the town the White Crow of her profession.
|
||
For besides that she never ransacked her customers, whose
|
||
taste too she ever studiously consulted, besides that she
|
||
never racked her pupils with unconscionable extortions, nor
|
||
ever put their hard earnings, as she call'd them, under the
|
||
contribution of poundage. She was a severe enemy to the
|
||
seduction for innocence, and confin'd her acquisitions solely
|
||
to those unfortunate young women, who, having lost it, were
|
||
but the juster objects of compassion: among these, indeed,
|
||
she pick'd but such as suited her views and taking them under
|
||
her protection, rescu'd them from the danger of the publick
|
||
sinks of ruin and misery, to place, or do for them, well or
|
||
ill, in the manner you have seen. Having then settled her
|
||
affairs, she set out on her journey, after taking the most
|
||
tender leave of me, and at the end of some excellent instruc-
|
||
tions, recommending me to myself, with an anxiety perfectly
|
||
maternal. In short, she affected me so much, that I was not
|
||
presently reconcil'd to myself for suffering her at any rate
|
||
to go without me; but fate had, it seems, otherwise dispos'd
|
||
of me.
|
||
|
||
I had, on my separation from Mrs. Cole, taken a pleasant
|
||
convenient house at Marybone, but easy to rent and manage from
|
||
its smallness, which I furnish'd neatly and modestly. There,
|
||
with a reserve of eight hundred pounds, the fruit of my defer-
|
||
ence to Mrs. Cole's counsels, exclusive of cloaths, some
|
||
jewels, some plate, I saw myself in purse for a long time, to
|
||
wait without impatience for what the chapter of accidents
|
||
might produce in my favour.
|
||
|
||
Here, under the new character of a young gentle-woman
|
||
whose husband was gone to sea, I had mark'd me out such lines
|
||
of life and conduct, as leaving me at a competent liberty to
|
||
pursue my views either out of pleasure or fortune, bounded me
|
||
nevertheless strictly within the rules od decency and discre-
|
||
tion: a disposition in which you cannot escape observing a
|
||
true pupil of Mrs. Cole.
|
||
|
||
I was scarce, however, well warm in my new abode, when
|
||
going out one morning pretty early to enjoy the freshness of
|
||
it, in the pleasing outlet of the fields, accompanied only by
|
||
a maid, whom I had newly hired, as we were carelessly walking
|
||
among the trees we were alarmed with the noise of a violent
|
||
coughing: turning our heads towards which, we distinguish'd a
|
||
plain well-dressed elderly gentleman, who, attack'd with a
|
||
sudden fit, was so much overcome as to be forc'd to give way
|
||
to it and sit down at the foot of a tree, where he seemed
|
||
suffocating with the severity of it, being perfectly black in
|
||
the face: not less mov'd than frighten'd with which, I flew
|
||
on the instant to his relief, and using the rote of practice
|
||
I had observ'd on the like occasion, I loosened his cravat
|
||
and clapped him on the back; but whether to any purpose, or
|
||
whether the cough had had its course, I know not, but the fit
|
||
immediately went off; and now recover'd to his speech and
|
||
legs, he returned me thanks with as much emphasis as if I had
|
||
sav'd his life. This naturally engaging a conversation, he
|
||
acquainted me where he lived, which was at a considerable
|
||
distance from where I met with him, and where he had stray'd
|
||
insensibly on the same intention of a morning walk.
|
||
|
||
He was, as I afterwards learn'd in the course of the
|
||
intimacy which this little accident gave birth to, an old
|
||
bachelor, turn'd of sixty, but of a fresh vigorous complexion,
|
||
insomuch that he scarce marked five and forty, having never
|
||
rack'd his constitution by permitting his desires to overtax
|
||
his ability.
|
||
|
||
As to his birth and condition, his parents, honest and
|
||
fail'd mechanicks, had, by the best traces he could get of
|
||
them, left him an infant orphan on the parish; so that it was
|
||
from a charity-school, that, by honesty and industry, he made
|
||
his way into a merchant's counting-house; from whence, being
|
||
sent to a house in CADIZ, he there, by his talents and acti-
|
||
vity, acquired a fortune, but an immense one, with which he
|
||
returned to his native country; where he could not, however,
|
||
so much as fish out one single relation out of the obscurity
|
||
he was born in. Taking then a taste for retirement, and
|
||
pleas'd to enjoy life, like a mistress in the dark, he flowed
|
||
his days in all the ease of opulence, without the least parade
|
||
of it; and, rather studying the concealment than the shew of a
|
||
fortune, looked down on a world he perfectly knew; himself, to
|
||
his wish, unknown and unmarked by.
|
||
|
||
But, as I propose to devote a letter entirely to the
|
||
pleasure of retracing to you all the particulars of my ac-
|
||
quaintance with this ever, to me, memorable friend, I shall,
|
||
in this, transiently touch on no more than may serve, as
|
||
mortar to cement, to form the connection of my history, and
|
||
to obviate your surprize that one of my high blood and relish
|
||
of life should count a gallant of threescore such a catch.
|
||
|
||
Referring then to a more explicit narrative, to explain
|
||
by what progressions our acquaintance, certainly innocent at
|
||
first, insensibly changed nature, and ran into unplatonic
|
||
lengths, as might well be expected from one of my condition
|
||
of life, and above all, from that principle of electricity
|
||
that scarce ever fails of producing fire when the sexes meet.
|
||
I shall only her acquaint you, that as age had not subdued
|
||
his tenderness for our sex, neither had it robbed him of the
|
||
power of pleasing, since whatever he wanted in the bewitching
|
||
charms of youth, he aton'd for, or supplemented with the ad-
|
||
vantages of experience, the sweetness of his manners, and
|
||
above all, his flattering address in touching the heart, by
|
||
an application to the understanding. From him it was I first
|
||
learn'd, to any purpose, and not without infinite pleasure,
|
||
that I had such a portion of me worth bestowing some regard
|
||
on; from him I received my first essential encouragement, and
|
||
instructions how to put it in that train of cultivation, which
|
||
I have since pushed to the little degree of improvement you
|
||
see it at; he it was, who first taught me to be sensible that
|
||
the pleasures of the mind were superior to those of the body;
|
||
at the same time, that they were so far from obnoxious to, or
|
||
incompatible with each other, that, besides the sweetness in
|
||
the variety and transition, the one serv'd to exalt and per-
|
||
fect the taste of the other to a degree that the senses alone
|
||
can never arrive at.
|
||
|
||
Himself a rational pleasurist, as being much too wise to
|
||
be asham'd of the pleasures of humanity, loved me indeed, but
|
||
loved me with dignity; in a mean equally remov'd from the
|
||
sourness, of forwardness, by which age is unpleasingly char-
|
||
acteriz'd, and from that childish silly dotage that so often
|
||
disgraces it, and which he himself used to turn into ridicule,
|
||
and compare to an old goat affecting the frisk of a young kid.
|
||
|
||
In short, everything that is generally unamiable in his
|
||
season of life was, in him, repair'd by so many advantages,
|
||
that he existed a proof, manifest at least to me, that it is
|
||
not out of the power of age to please, if it lays out to
|
||
please, and if, making just allowances, those in that class
|
||
do not forget that it must cost them more pains and attention
|
||
than what youth, the natural spring-time of joy, stands in
|
||
need of: as fruits out of season require proportionably more
|
||
skill and cultivation, to force them.
|
||
|
||
With this gentleman then, who took me home soon after
|
||
our acquaintance commenc'd, I lived near eight months; in
|
||
which time, my constant complaisance and docility, my atten-
|
||
tion to deserve his confidence and love, and a conduct, in
|
||
general, devoid of the least art and founded on my sincere
|
||
regard and esteem for him, won and attach'd him so firmly to
|
||
me, that, after having generously trusted me with a genteel,
|
||
independent settlement, proceeding to heap marks of affection
|
||
on me, he appointed me, by an authentick will, his sole
|
||
heiress and executrix: a disposition which he did not outlive
|
||
two months, being taken from me by a violent cold that he
|
||
contracted as he unadvisedly ran to the window on an alarm of
|
||
fire, at some streets distance, and stood there naked-breast-
|
||
ed, and exposed to the fatal impressions of a damp night-air.
|
||
|
||
After acquitting myself of my duty towards my deceas'd
|
||
benefactor, and paying him a tribute of unfeign'd sorrow,
|
||
which a little time chang'd into a most tender, grateful
|
||
memory of him that I shall ever retain, I grew somewhat com-
|
||
forted by the prospect that now open'd to me, if not of hap-
|
||
piness at least of affluence and independence.
|
||
|
||
I saw myself then in the full bloom and pride of youth
|
||
(for I was not yet nineteen) actually at the head of so large
|
||
a fortune, as it would have been even the height of impudence
|
||
in me to have raised my wishes, much more my hopes, to; and
|
||
that this unexpected elevation did not turn my head, I ow'd
|
||
to the pains my benefactor had taken to form and prepare me
|
||
for it, as I ow'd his opinion of my management of the vast
|
||
possessions he left me, to what he had observ'd of the pru-
|
||
dential economy I had learned under Mrs. Cole, of which the
|
||
reserve he saw I had made was a proof and encouragement to
|
||
him.
|
||
|
||
But, alas! how easily is the enjoyment of the greatest
|
||
sweets in life, in present possession, poisoned by the regret
|
||
of an absent one! but my regret was a mighty and just one,
|
||
since it had my only truly beloved Charles for its object.
|
||
|
||
Given him up I had, indeed, compleatly, having never once
|
||
heard from him since our separation; which, as I found after-
|
||
wards, had been my misfortune, and not his neglect, for he
|
||
wrote me several letters which had all miscarried; but for-
|
||
gotten him I never had. Amidst all my personal infidelities,
|
||
not one had made a pin's point impression on a heart impene-
|
||
trable to the true love-passion, but for him.
|
||
|
||
As soon, however, as I was mistress of this unexpected
|
||
fortune, I felt more than ever how dear he was to me, from
|
||
its insufficiency to make me happy, whilst he was not to
|
||
share it with me. My earliest care, consequently, was to
|
||
endeavour at getting some account of him; but all my re-
|
||
searches produc'd me no more light than that his father had
|
||
been dead for some time, not so well as even with the world;
|
||
and that Charles had reached his port of destination in the
|
||
South-Seas, where, finding the estate he was sent to recover
|
||
dwindled to a trifle, by the loss of two ships in which the
|
||
bulk of his uncle's fortune lay, he was come away with the
|
||
small remainder, and might, perhaps, according to the best
|
||
advice, in a few months return to England, from whence he
|
||
had, at the time of this my inquiry, been absent two years
|
||
and seven months. A little eternity in love!
|
||
|
||
You cannot conceive with what joy I embraced the hopes
|
||
thus given me of seeing the delight of my heart again. But,
|
||
as the term of months was assigned it, in order to divert
|
||
and amuse my impatience for his return, after settling my
|
||
affairs with much ease and security, I set out on a journey
|
||
for Lancashire, with an equipage suitable to my fortune, and
|
||
with a design purely to revisit my place of nativity, for
|
||
which I could not help retaining a great tenderness; and might
|
||
naturally not be sorry to shew myself there, to the advantage
|
||
I was now in pass to do, after the report Esther Davis had
|
||
spread of my being spirited away to the plantations; for on
|
||
no other supposition could she account for the suppression of
|
||
myself to her, since her leaving me so abruptly at the inn.
|
||
Another favourite intention I had, to look out for my rela-
|
||
tions, though I had none besides distant ones, and prove a
|
||
benefactress to them. Then Mrs. Cole's place of retirement
|
||
lying in my way, was not amongst the least of the pleasures I
|
||
had proposed to myself in this expedition.
|
||
|
||
I had taken nobody with me but a discreet decent woman,
|
||
to figure it as my companion, besides my servants, and was
|
||
scarce got into an inn, about twenty miles from London, where
|
||
I was to sup and pass the night, when such a storm of wind
|
||
and rain sprang up as made me congratulate myself on having
|
||
got under shelter before it began.
|
||
|
||
This had continu'd a good half hour, when bethinking me
|
||
of some directions to be given to the coachman, I sent for
|
||
him, and not caring that his shoes should soil the very clean
|
||
parlour, in which the cloth was laid, I stept into the hall-
|
||
kitchen, where he was, and where, whilst I was talking to him,
|
||
I slantingly observ'd two horsemen driven in by the weather,
|
||
and both wringing wet; one of whom was asking if they could
|
||
not be assisted with a change, while their clothes were dried.
|
||
But, heavens! who can express what I felt at the sound of a
|
||
voice, ever present to my heart, and that is now rebounded at!
|
||
or when pointing my eyes towards the person it came from, they
|
||
confirm'd its information, in spite of so long an absence, and
|
||
of a dress one would have imagin'd studied for a disguise: a
|
||
horseman's great coat, with a stand-up cape, and his hat
|
||
flapp'd . . . but what could escape the piercing alertness of
|
||
a sense surely guided by love? A transport then like mine was
|
||
above all consideration, or schemes of surprize; and I, that
|
||
instant, with the rapidity of the emotions that I felt the
|
||
spur of, shot into his arms, crying out, as I threw mine round
|
||
his neck: "My life! . . . my soul! . . . my Charles! . . ."
|
||
and without further power of speech, swoon'd away, under the
|
||
pressing agitations of joy and surprize.
|
||
|
||
Recover'd out of my entrancement, I found myself in my
|
||
charmer's arms, but in the parlour, surrounded by a crowd
|
||
which this event had gather'd round us, and which immediately,
|
||
on a signal from the discreet landlady, who currently took him
|
||
for my husband, clear'd the room, and desirably left us alone
|
||
to the raptures of this reunion; my joy at which had like to
|
||
have prov'd, at the expense of my life, power superior to that
|
||
of grief at our fatal separation.
|
||
|
||
The first object then, that my eyes open'd on, was their
|
||
supreme idol, and my supreme wish Charles, on one knee, hold-
|
||
ing me fast by the hand and gazing on me with a transport of
|
||
fondness. Observing my recovery, he attempted to speak, and
|
||
give vent to his patience of hearing my voice again, to
|
||
satisfy him once more that it was me; but the mightiness and
|
||
suddenness of the surprize, continuing to stun him, choked
|
||
his utterance: he could only stammer out a few broken, half
|
||
formed, faltering accents, which my ears greedily drinking
|
||
in, spelt, and put together, so as to make out their sense;
|
||
"After so long! . . . so cruel . . . an absence! . . . my
|
||
dearest Fanny! . . . can it? . . . can it be you? . . ."
|
||
stifling me at the same time with kisses, that, stopping my
|
||
mouth, at once prevented the answer that he panted for, and
|
||
increas'd the delicious disorder in which all my senses were
|
||
rapturously lost. Amidst however, this crowd of ideas, and
|
||
all blissful ones, there obtruded only one cruel doubt, that
|
||
poison'd nearly all the transcendent happiness: and what was
|
||
it, but my dread of its being too excessive to be real? I
|
||
trembled now with the fear of its being no more than a
|
||
dream, and of my waking out of it into the horrors of find-
|
||
ing it one. Under this fond apprehension, imagining I could
|
||
not make too much of the present prodigious joy, before it
|
||
should vanish and leave me in the desert again, nor verify
|
||
its reality too strongly, I clung to him, I clasp'd him, as
|
||
if to hinder him from escaping me again: "Where have you
|
||
been? . . . how could you . . . could you leave me? . . .
|
||
Say you are still mine . . . that you still love me . . .
|
||
and thus! thus!" (kissing him as if I would consolidate lips
|
||
with him!) "I forgive you . . . forgive my hard fortune in
|
||
favour of this restoration."
|
||
|
||
All these interjections breaking from me, in that wild-
|
||
ness of expression that justly passes for eloquence in love,
|
||
drew from him all the returns my fond heart could wish or
|
||
require. Our caresses, our questions, our answers, for some
|
||
time observ'd no order; all crossing, or interrupting one
|
||
another in sweet confusion, whilst we exchang'd hearts at our
|
||
eyes, and renew'd the ratifications of a love unbated by time
|
||
or absence: not a breath, not a motion, not a gesture on
|
||
either side, but what was strongly impressed with it. Our
|
||
hands, lock'd in each other, repeated the most passionate
|
||
squeezes, so that their fiery thrill went to the heart again.
|
||
|
||
Thus absorbed, and concentre'd in this unutterable de-
|
||
light, I had not attended to the sweet author of it, being
|
||
thoroughly wet, and in danger of catching cold; when, in good
|
||
time, the landlady, whom the appearance of my equipage (which,
|
||
by-the-bye, Charles knew nothing of) had gain'd me an interest
|
||
in, for me and mine, interrupted us by bringing in a decent
|
||
shift of linen and cloaths, which now, somewhat recover'd into
|
||
a calmer composure by the coming in of a third person, I prest
|
||
him to take the benefit of, with a tender concern and anxiety
|
||
that made me tremble for his health.
|
||
|
||
The landlady leaving us again, he proceeded to shift; in
|
||
the act of which, tho' he proceeded with all that modesty
|
||
which became these first solemner instants of our re-meeting
|
||
after so long an absence, I could not contain certain snatches
|
||
of my eyes, lured by the dazzling discoveries of his naked
|
||
skin, that escaped him as he chang'd his linen, and which I
|
||
could not observe the unfaded life and complexion of without
|
||
emotions of tenderness and joy, that had himself too purely
|
||
for their object to partake of a loose or mistim'd desire.
|
||
|
||
He was soon drest in these temporary cloaths, which
|
||
neither fitted him now became the light my passion plac'd
|
||
him in, to me at least; yet, as they were on him, they look'd
|
||
extremely well, in virtue of that magic charm which love put
|
||
into everything that he touch'd, or had relation to him: and
|
||
where, indeed, was that dress that a figure like this would
|
||
not give grace to? For now, as I ey'd him more in detail, I
|
||
could not but observe the even favourable alteration which
|
||
the time of his absence had produced in his person.
|
||
|
||
There were still the requisite lineaments, still the
|
||
same vivid vermilion and bloom reigning in his face: but now
|
||
the roses were more fully blown; the tan of his travels, and
|
||
a beard somewhat more distinguishable, had, at the expense
|
||
of no more delicacy than what he could well spare, given it
|
||
an air of becoming manliness and maturity, that symmetriz'd
|
||
nobly with that air of distinction and empire with which
|
||
nature had stamp'd it, in a rare mixture with the sweetness
|
||
of it; still nothing had he lost of that smooth plumpness of
|
||
flesh, which, glowing with freshness, blooms florid to the
|
||
eye, and delicious to the touch; then his shoulders were
|
||
grown more square, his shape more form'd, more portly, but
|
||
still free and airy. In short, his figure show'd riper,
|
||
greater, and perfecter to the experienced eye than in his
|
||
tender youth; and now he was not much more than two and
|
||
twenty.
|
||
|
||
In this interval, however, I pick'd out of the broken,
|
||
often pleasingly interrupted account of himself, that he was,
|
||
at that instant, actually on his road to London, in not a
|
||
very paramount plight or condition, having been wreck'd on
|
||
the Irish coast for which he had prematurely embark'd, and
|
||
lost the little all he had brought with him from the South
|
||
Seas; so that he had not till after great shifts and hard-
|
||
ships, in the company of his fellow-traveller, the captain,
|
||
got so far on his journey; that so it was (having heard of
|
||
his father's death and circumstances) he had now the world
|
||
to begin again, on a new account: a situation which he
|
||
assur'd me, in a vein of sincerity that, flowing from his
|
||
heart, penetrated mine, gave him to farther pain, than that
|
||
he had it not in his power to make me as happy as he could
|
||
wish. My fortune, you will please to observe, I had not
|
||
enter'd upon any overture of, reserving to feast myself with
|
||
the surprize of it to him, in calmer instants. And, as to
|
||
my dress, it could give him no idea of the truth, not only
|
||
as it was mourning, but likewise in a style of plainness and
|
||
simplicity that I had ever kept to with studied art. He
|
||
press'd me indeed tenderly to satisfy his ardent curiosity,
|
||
both with regard to my past and present state of life since
|
||
his being torn away from me: but I had the address to elude
|
||
his questions by answers that, shewing his satisfaction at
|
||
no great distance, won upon him to waive his impatience, in
|
||
favour of the thorough confidence he had in my not delaying
|
||
it, but for respects I should in good time acquaint him with.
|
||
|
||
Charles, however, thus returned to my longing arms,
|
||
tender, faithful, and in health, was already a blessing too
|
||
mighty for my conception: but Charles in distress! . . .
|
||
Charles reduc'd, and broken down to his naked personal merit,
|
||
was such a circumstance, in favour of the sentiments I had
|
||
for him, as exceeded my utmost desires; and accordingly I
|
||
seemed so visibly charm'd, so out of time and measure pleas'd
|
||
at his mention of his ruin'd fortune, that he could account
|
||
for it no way, but that the joy of seeing him again had swal-
|
||
low'd up every other sense, or concern.
|
||
|
||
In the mean time, my woman had taken all possible care
|
||
of Charles's travelling companion; and as supper was coming
|
||
in, he was introduc'd to me, when I receiv'd him as became my
|
||
regard for all of Charles's acquaintance or friends.
|
||
|
||
We four then supp'd together, in the style of joy, con-
|
||
gratulation, and pleasing disorder that you may guess. For
|
||
my part, though all these agitations had left me not the
|
||
least stomach but for that uncloying feast, the sight of my
|
||
ador'd youth, I endeavour'd to force it, by way of example
|
||
for him, who I conjectur'd must want such a recruit after
|
||
riding; and, indeed, he ate like a traveller, but gaz'd at,
|
||
and addressed me all the time like a lover.
|
||
|
||
After the cloth was taken away, and the hour of repose
|
||
came on, Charles and I were, without further ceremony, in
|
||
quality of man and wife, shewn up together to a very handsome
|
||
apartment, and, all in course, the bed, they said, the best
|
||
in the inn.
|
||
|
||
And here, Decency, forgive me! if once more I violate
|
||
thy laws and keeping the curtains undrawn, sacrifice thee for
|
||
the last time to that confidence, without reserve, with which
|
||
I engaged to recount to you the most striking circumstances
|
||
of my youthful disorders.
|
||
|
||
As soon, then, as we were in the room together, left to
|
||
ourselves, the sight of the bed starting the remembrance of
|
||
our first joys, and the thought of my being instantly to
|
||
share it with the dear possessor of my virgin heart, mov'd
|
||
me so strongly, that it was well I lean'd upon him, or I
|
||
must have fainted again under the overpowering sweet alarm.
|
||
Charles saw into my confusion, and forgot his own, that was
|
||
scarce less, to apply himself to the removal of mine.
|
||
|
||
But now the true refining passion had regain'd thorough
|
||
possession of me, with all its train of symptoms: a sweet
|
||
sensibility, a tender timidity, love-sick yearnings temper'd
|
||
with diffidence and modesty, all held me in a subjection of
|
||
soul, incomparably dearer to me than the liberty of heart
|
||
which I had been long, too long! the mistress of, in the
|
||
course of those grosser gallantries, the consciousness of
|
||
which now made me sigh with a virtuous confusion and regret.
|
||
No real virgin, in view of the nuptial bed, could give more
|
||
bashful blushes to unblemish'd innocence than I did to a
|
||
sense of guilt; and indeed I lov'd Charles too truly not to
|
||
feel severely that I did not deserve him.
|
||
|
||
As I kept hesitating and disconcerted under this soft
|
||
distraction, Charles, with a fond impatience, took the pains
|
||
to undress me; and all I can remember amidst the flutter and
|
||
discomposure of my senses was some flattering exclamations of
|
||
joy and admiration, more specially at the feel of my breasts,
|
||
now set at liberty form my stays, and which panting and ris-
|
||
ing in tumultuous throbs, swell'd upon his dear touch, and
|
||
gave it the welcome pleasure of finding them well form'd, and
|
||
unfail'd in firmness.
|
||
|
||
I was soon laid in bed, and scarce languish'd an instant
|
||
for the darling partner of it, before he was undress'd and
|
||
got between the sheets, with his arms clasp'd round me, giv-
|
||
ing and taking, with gust inexpressible, a kiss of welcome,
|
||
that my heart rising to my lips stamp'd with its warmest
|
||
impression, concurring to by bliss, with that delicate and
|
||
voluptuous emotion which Charles alone had the secret to
|
||
excite, and which constitutes the very life, the essence of
|
||
pleasure.
|
||
|
||
Meanwhile, two candles lighted on a side-table near us,
|
||
and a joyous wood-fire, threw a light into the bed that took
|
||
from one sense, of great importance to our joys, all pretext
|
||
for complaining of its being shut out of its share of them;
|
||
and indeed, the sight of my idolized youth was alone, from
|
||
the ardour with which I had wished for it, without other cir-
|
||
cumstance, a pleasure to die of.
|
||
|
||
But as action was now a necessity to desires so much on
|
||
edge as ours, Charles, after a very short prelusive dalliance,
|
||
lifting up my linen and his own, laid the broad treasures of
|
||
his manly chest close to my bosom, both beating with the
|
||
tenderest alarms: when now, the sense of his glowing body, in
|
||
naked touch with mine, took all power over my thoughts out of
|
||
my own disposal, and deliver'd up every faculty of the soul
|
||
to the sensiblest of joys, that affecting me infinitely more
|
||
with my distinction of the person than of the sex, now
|
||
brought my conscious heart deliciously into play: my heart,
|
||
which eternally constant to Charles, had never taken any part
|
||
in my occasional sacrifices to the calls of constitution,
|
||
complaisance, or interest. But ah! what became of me, when
|
||
as the powers of solid pleasure thickened upon me, I could
|
||
not help feeling the stiff stake that had been adorn'd with
|
||
the trophies of my despoil'd virginity, bearing hard and
|
||
inflexible against one of my thighs, which I had not yet
|
||
opened, from a true principle of modesty, reviv'd by a pas-
|
||
sion too sincere to suffer any aiming at the false merit of
|
||
difficulty, or my putting on an impertinent mock coyness.
|
||
|
||
I have, I believe, somewhere before remark'd, that the
|
||
feel of that favourite piece of manhood has, in the very na-
|
||
ture of it, something inimitably pathetic. Nothing can be
|
||
dearer to the touch, nor can affect it with a more delicious
|
||
sensation. Think then! as a love thinks, what must be the
|
||
consummate transport of that quickest of our senses, in their
|
||
central seat too! when, after so long a deprival, it felt
|
||
itself re-inflam'd under the pressure of that peculiar scep-
|
||
ter-member which commands us all: but especially my darling,
|
||
elect from the face of the whole earth. And now, at its
|
||
mightiest point of stiffness, it felt to me something so
|
||
subduing, so active, so solid and agreeable, that I know not
|
||
what name to give its singular impression: but the sentiment
|
||
of consciousness of its belonging to my supremely beloved
|
||
youth, gave me so pleasing an agitation, and work'd so
|
||
strongly on my soul, that it sent all its sensitive spirits
|
||
to that organ of bliss in me, dedicated to its reception.
|
||
There, concentreing to a point, like rays in a burning glass,
|
||
they glow'd, they burnt with the intensest heat; the springs
|
||
of pleasure were, in short, wound up to such a pitch, I
|
||
panted now, with so exquisitely keen an appetite for the emi-
|
||
nent enjoyment that I was even sick with desire, and unequal
|
||
to support the combination of two distinct ideas, that de-
|
||
lightfully distracted me: for all the thought I was capable
|
||
of, was that I was now in touch, at once, with the instrument
|
||
of pleasure, and the great-seal of love. Ideas that, ming-
|
||
ling streams, pour'd such an ocean of intoxicating bliss on
|
||
a weak vessel, all too narrow to contain it, that I lay over-
|
||
whelm'd, absorbed, lost in an abyss of joy, and dying of
|
||
nothing but immoderate delight.
|
||
|
||
Charles then rous'd me somewhat out of this extatic dis-
|
||
traction with a complaint softly murmured, amidst a crowd of
|
||
kisses, at the position, not so favourable to his desires, in
|
||
which I receiv'd his urgent insistance for admission, where
|
||
that insistance was alone so engrossing a pleasure that it
|
||
made me inconsistently suffer a much dearer one to be kept
|
||
out; but how sweet to correct such a mistake! My thighs, now
|
||
obedient ot the intimations of love and nature, gladly dis-
|
||
close, and with a ready submission, resign up the soft gate-
|
||
way to the entrance of pleasure: I see, I feel the delicious
|
||
velvet tip! . . . he enters me might and main, with . . . oh!
|
||
my pen drops from me here in the extasy now present to my
|
||
faithful memory! Description too deserts me, and delivers
|
||
over a task, above its strength of wing, to the imagination:
|
||
but it must be an imagination exalted by such a flame as mine
|
||
that can do justice to that sweetest, noblest of all sensa-
|
||
tions, that hailed and accompany'd the stiff insinuation all
|
||
the way up, till it was at the end of its penetration, send-
|
||
ing up, through my eyes, the sparks of the love-fire that
|
||
ran all over me and blaz'd in every vein and every pore of
|
||
me: a system incarnate of joy all over.
|
||
|
||
I had now totally taken in love's true arrow from the
|
||
point up to the feather, in that part, where making now new
|
||
wound, the lips of the original one of nature, which had
|
||
owed its first breathing to this dear instrument, clung, as
|
||
if sensible of gratitude, in eager suction round it, whilst
|
||
all its inwards embrac'd it tenderly with a warmth of gust,
|
||
a compressive energy, that gave it, in its way, the hearti-
|
||
est welcome in nature; every fibre there gathering tight
|
||
round it, and straining ambitiously to come in for its share
|
||
of the blissful touch.
|
||
|
||
As we were giving them a few moments of pause to the
|
||
delectation of the senses, in dwelling with the highest
|
||
relish on this intimatest point of re-union, and chewing the
|
||
cud of enjoyment, the impatience natural to the pleasure soon
|
||
drove us into action. Then began the driving tumult on his
|
||
side, and the responsive heaves on mine, which kept me up to
|
||
him; whilst, as our joys grew too great for utterance, the
|
||
organs of our voices, voluptuously intermixing, became organs
|
||
of the touch . . . and oh, that touch! how delicious! . . .
|
||
how poignantly luscious! . . . And now! now I felt to the
|
||
heart of me! I felt the prodigious keen edge with which love,
|
||
presiding over this act, points the pleasure: love! that may
|
||
be styled the Attic salt of enjoyment; and indeed, without
|
||
it, the joy, great as it is, is still a vulgar one, whether
|
||
in a king or a beggar; for it is, undoubtedly, love alone
|
||
that refines, ennobles and exalts it.
|
||
|
||
Thus happy, then, by the heart, happy by the senses, it
|
||
was beyond all power, even of thought, to form the conception
|
||
of a greater delight than what I was now consummating the
|
||
fruition of.
|
||
|
||
Charles, whose whole frame was convulsed with the agita-
|
||
tion of his rapture, whilst the tenderest fires trembled in
|
||
his eyes, all assured me of a prefect concord of joy, pene-
|
||
trated me so profoundly, touch'd me so vitally, took me so
|
||
much out of my own possession, whilst he seem'd himself so
|
||
much in mine, that in a delicious enthusiasm, I imagin'd such
|
||
a transfusion of heart and spirit, as that coalescing, and
|
||
making one body and soul with him, I was he, and he, me.
|
||
|
||
But all this pleasure tending, like life from its first
|
||
instants, towards its own dissolution, liv'd too fast not to
|
||
bring on upon the spur its delicious moment of mortality; for
|
||
presently the approach of the tender agony discover'd itself
|
||
by its usual signals, that were quickly follow'd by my dear
|
||
love's emanation of himself that spun our, and shot, feel-
|
||
ingly indeed! up the ravish'd in-draught: where the sweetly
|
||
soothing balmy titillation opened all the juices of joy on my
|
||
side, which extatically in flow, help'd to allay the prurient
|
||
glow, and drown'd our pleasure for a while. Soon, however,
|
||
to be on float again! For Charles, true to nature's laws, in
|
||
one breath expiring and ejaculating, languish'd not long in
|
||
the dissolving trance, but recovering spirit again, soon gave
|
||
me to feel that the true-mettle springs of his instrument of
|
||
pleasure were, by love, and perhaps by a long vacation, wound
|
||
up too high to be let down by a single explosion: his stiff-
|
||
ness still stood my friend. Resuming then the action afresh,
|
||
without dislodging, or giving me the trouble of parting from
|
||
my sweet tenant, we play'd over again the same opera, with
|
||
the same delightful harmony and concert: our ardours, like
|
||
our love, knew no remission; and, all as the tide serv'd my
|
||
lover, lavish of his stores, and pleasure milked, over-flowed
|
||
me once more from the fulness of his oval reservoirs of the
|
||
genial emulsion: whilst, on my side, a convulsive grasp, in
|
||
the instant of my giving down the liquid contribution, ren-
|
||
der'd me sweetly subservient at once to the increase of his
|
||
joy, and of its effusions: moving me so, as to make me exert
|
||
all those springs of the compressive exsuction with which the
|
||
sensitive mechanism of that part thirstily draws and drains
|
||
the nipple of Love; with much such an instinctive eagerness
|
||
and attachment as, to compare great with less, kind nature
|
||
engages infants at the breast by the pleasure they find in
|
||
the motion of their little mouths and cheeks, to extract the
|
||
milky stream prepar'd for their nourishment.
|
||
|
||
But still there was no end of his vigour: this double
|
||
discharge had so far from extinguish'd his desires, for that
|
||
time, that it had not even calm'd them; and at his age, de-
|
||
sires are power. He was proceeding then amazingly to push it
|
||
to a third triumph, still without uncasing, if a tenderness,
|
||
natural to true love, had not inspir'd me with self-denial
|
||
enough to spare, and not overstrain him: and accordingly,
|
||
entreating him to give himself and me quarter, I obtain'd,
|
||
at length, a short suspension of arms, but not before he had
|
||
exultingly satisfy'd me that he gave out standing.
|
||
|
||
The remainder of the night, with what we borrow'd upon
|
||
the day, we employ'd with unweary'd fervour in celebrating
|
||
thus the festival of our re-meeting; and got up pretty late
|
||
in the morning, gay, brisk and alert, though rest had been a
|
||
stranger to us: but the pleasures of love had been to us,
|
||
what the joy of victory is to an army; repose, refreshment,
|
||
everything.
|
||
|
||
The journey into the country being now entirely out of
|
||
the question, and orders having been given over-night for
|
||
turning the horses' heads towards London, we left the inn as
|
||
soon as we had breakfasted, not without a liberal distribu-
|
||
tion of the tokens of my grateful sense of the happiness I
|
||
had met with in it.
|
||
|
||
Charles and I were in my coach; the captain and my com-
|
||
panion in a chaise hir'd purposely for them, to leave us the
|
||
conveniency of a tete-a-tete.
|
||
|
||
Here, on the road, as the tumult of my senses was toler-
|
||
ably compos'd, I had command enough to head to break properly
|
||
to him the course of life that the consequence of my separa-
|
||
tion from him had driven me into: which, at the same time
|
||
that he tenderly deplor'd with me, he was the less shocked
|
||
at; as, on reflecting how he had left me circumstanc'd, he
|
||
could not be entirely unprepar'd for it.
|
||
|
||
But when I opened the state of my fortune to him, and
|
||
with that sincerity which, from me to him, was so much a
|
||
nature in me, I begg'd of him his acceptance of it, on his
|
||
own terms. I should appear to you perhaps too partial to my
|
||
passion, were I to attempt the doing his delicacy justice.
|
||
I shall content myself then with assuring you, that after
|
||
his flatly refusing the unreserv'd, unconditional donation
|
||
that I long persecuted him in vain to accept, it was at
|
||
length, in obedience to his serious commands (for I stood
|
||
out unaffectedly, till he exerted the sovereign authority
|
||
which love had given him over me), that I yielded my consent
|
||
to waive the remonstrance I did not fail of making strongly
|
||
to him, against his degrading himself, and incurring the
|
||
reflection, however unjust, of having, for respects of for-
|
||
tune, barter'd his honour for infamy and prostitution, in
|
||
making one his wife, who thought herself too much honour'd
|
||
in being but his mistress.
|
||
|
||
The plea of love then over-ruling all objections,
|
||
Charles, entirely won with the merit of my sentiments for
|
||
him, which he could not but read the sincerity of in a heart
|
||
ever open to him, oblig'd me to receive his hand, by which
|
||
means I was in pass, among other innumerable blessings, to
|
||
bestow a legal parentage on those fine children you have
|
||
seen by this happiest of matches.
|
||
|
||
Thus at length, I got snug into port, where, in the
|
||
bosom of virtue, I gather'd the only uncorrupt sweets: where,
|
||
looking back on the course of vice I had run, and comparing
|
||
its infamous blandishments with the infinitely superior joys
|
||
of innocence, I could not help pitying, even in point of
|
||
taste, those who, immers'd in gross sensuality, are insen-
|
||
sible to the so delicate charms of VIRTUE, than which even
|
||
PLEASURE has not a greater friend, nor than VICE a greater
|
||
enemy. Thus temperance makes men lords over those pleasures
|
||
that intemperance enslaves them to: the one, parent of
|
||
health, vigour, fertility, cheerfulness, and every other
|
||
desirable good of life; the other, of diseases, debility,
|
||
barrenness, self-loathing, with only every evil incident to
|
||
human nature.
|
||
|
||
You laugh, perhaps, at this tail-piece of morality, ex-
|
||
tracted from me by the force of truth, resulting from com-
|
||
par'd experiences: you think it, no doubt, out of place, out
|
||
of character; possibly too you may look on it as the paltry
|
||
finesse of one who seeks to mask a devotee to Vice under a
|
||
rag of a veil, impudently smuggled from the shrine of Virtue:
|
||
just as if one was to fancy one's self compleatly disguised
|
||
at a masquerade, with no other change of dress than turning
|
||
one's shoes into slippers; or, as if a writer should think to
|
||
shield a treasonable libel, by concluding it with a formal
|
||
prayer for the King. But, independent of my flattering my-
|
||
self that you have a juster opinion of my sense and sincerity,
|
||
give me leave to represent to you, that such a supposition is
|
||
even more injurious to Virtue than to me: since, consistently
|
||
with candour and good-nature, it can have no foundation but
|
||
in the falsest of fears, that its pleasures cannot stand in
|
||
comparison with those of Vice; but let truth dare to hold it
|
||
up in its most alluring light: then mark, how spurious, how
|
||
low of taste, how comparatively inferior its joys are to those
|
||
which Virtue gives sanction to, and whose sentiments are not
|
||
above making even a sauce for the senses, but a sauce of the
|
||
highest relish; whilst Vices are the harpies that infect and
|
||
foul the feast. The paths of Vice are sometimes strew'd with
|
||
roses, but then they are for ever infamous for many a thorn,
|
||
for many a canker-worm: those of Virtue are strew'd with roses
|
||
purely, and those eternally unfading ones.
|
||
|
||
If you do me then justice, you will esteem me perfectly
|
||
consistent in the incense I burn to Virtue. If I have painted
|
||
Vice in all its gayest colours, if I have deck'd it with flow-
|
||
ers, it has been solely in order to make the worthier, the
|
||
solemner sacrifice of it, to Virtue.
|
||
|
||
You know Mr. C*** O***, you know his estate, his worth,
|
||
and good sense: can you, will you pronounce it ill meant, at
|
||
least of him, when anxious for his son's morals, with a view
|
||
to form him to virtue, and inspire him with a fix'd, a
|
||
rational contempt for vice, he condescended to be his master
|
||
of the ceremonies, and led him by the hand thro' the most
|
||
noted bawdy-houses in town, where he took care he should be
|
||
familiarized with all those scenes of debauchery, so fit to
|
||
nauseate a good taste? The experiment, you will cry, is
|
||
dangerous. True, on a fool: but are fools worth so much
|
||
attention?
|
||
|
||
I shall see you soon, and in the mean time think
|
||
candidly of me, and believe me ever,
|
||
MADAM,
|
||
|
||
Yours, etc., etc., etc.,
|
||
|
||
THE END
|
||
|
||
.
|