.
Chapter 4
Upon his coming up to them,
for they were all still together, ‘Sit down, Robin,’ says the old lady,
‘I must have some talk with you.’ ‘With all my heart, madam,’ says Robin,
looking very merry. ‘I hope it is about a good wife, for I am at a
great loss in that affair.’ ‘How can that be?’ says his mother;
‘did not you say you resolved to have Mrs. Betty?’ ‘Ay, madam,’
says Robin, ‘but there is one has forbid the banns.’ ‘Forbid,
the banns!’ says his mother; ‘who can that be?’ ‘Even Mrs. Betty
herself,’ says Robin. ‘How so?’ says his mother. ‘Have you
asked her the question, then?’ ‘Yes, indeed, madam,’ says Robin.
‘I have attacked her in form five times since she was sick, and am beaten
off; the jade is so stout she won’t capitulate nor yield upon any terms,
except such as I cannot effectually grant.’ ‘Explain yourself,’ says
the mother, ‘for I am surprised; I do not understand you. I hope you
are not in earnest.’
‘Why, madam,’ says he,
‘the case is plain enough upon me, it explains itself; she won’t have me,
she
says; is not that plain enough? I think ’tis plain, and pretty rough
too.’ ‘Well, but,’ says the mother, ‘you talk of conditions that
you cannot grant; what does she want—a settlement? Her jointure ought to
be according to her portion; but what fortune does she bring you?’ ‘Nay,
as to fortune,’ says Robin, ‘she is rich enough; I am satisfied
in that point; but ’tis I that am not able to come up to her terms,
and she is positive she will not have me without.’
Here the sisters put in. ‘Madam,’
says
the second sister, ‘’tis impossible to be serious with him; he will
never give a direct answer to anything; you had better let him alone, and
talk no more of it to him; you know how to dispose of her out of his way
if you thought there was anything in it.’ Robin was a little warmed
with his sister’s rudeness, but he was even with her, and yet with good
manners too. ‘There are two sorts of people, madam,’ says he, turning
to his mother, ‘that there is no contending with; that is, a wise body
and a fool; ’tis a little hard I should engage with both of them together.’
The younger sister then put
in. ‘We must be fools indeed,’ says she, ‘in my brother’s opinion,
that he should think we can believe he has seriously asked Mrs. Betty to
marry him, and that she has refused him.’
‘Answer, and answer
not, say Solomon,’ replied her brother. ‘When your brother had said
to your mother that he had asked her no less than five times, and that
it was so, that she positively denied him, methinks a younger sister need
not question the truth of it when her mother did not.’ ‘My mother, you
see, did not understand it,’ says the second sister. ‘There’s some
difference,’ says Robin, ‘between desiring me to explain it, and
telling me she did not believe it.’
‘Well, but, son,’ says the
old lady, ‘if you are disposed to let us into the mystery of it, what
were these hard conditions?’ ‘Yes, madam,’ says Robin, ‘I had done
it before now, if the teasers here had not worried my by way of
interruption. The conditions are, that I bring my father and you to consent
to it, and without that she protests she will never see me more upon that
head; and to these conditions, as I said, I suppose I shall never
be able to grant. I hope my warm sisters will be answered now, and blush
a little; if not, I have no more to say till I hear further.’
This answer was surprising to
them all, though less to the mother, because of what I had said to her.
As to the daughters, they stood mute a great while; but the mother said
with some passion, ‘Well, I had heard this before, but I could not believe
it; but if it is so, they we have all done Betty wrong, and she has
behaved better than I ever expected.’ ‘Nay,’ says the eldest sister,
‘if it be so, she has acted handsomely indeed.’ ‘I confess,’ says the
mother, ‘it was none of her fault, if he was fool enough to take a
fancy to her; but to give such an answer to him, shows more respect to
your father and me than I can tell how to express; I shall value the girl
the better for it as long as I know her.’ ‘But I shall not,’ says
Robin, ‘unless you will give your consent.’ ‘I’ll consider of that a while,’
says
the mother; ‘I assure you, if there were not some other objections
in the way, this conduct of hers would go a great way to bring me to consent.’
‘I wish it would go quite through it,’ says Robin; ‘if you had a
much thought about making me easy as you have about making me rich, you
would soon consent to it.’
‘Why, Robin,’ says the mother
again, ‘are you really in earnest? Would you so fain have her as you
pretend?’ “Really, madam,’ says Robin, ‘I think ’tis hard you should
question me upon that head after all I have said. I won’t say that I will
have her; how can I resolve that point, when you see I cannot have her
without your consent? Besides, I am not bound to marry at all. But this
I will say, I am in earnest in, that I will never have anybody else if
I can help it; so you may determine for me. Betty or nobody is the
word, and the question which of the two shall be in your breast to decide,
madam, provided only, that my good-humoured sisters here may have no
vote in it.’
All this was dreadful to me,
for the mother began to yield, and Robin pressed her home on it.
On the other hand, she advised with the eldest son, and he used all the
arguments in the world to persuade her to consent; alleging his brother’s
passionate love for me, and my generous regard to the family, in refusing
my own advantages upon such a nice point of honour, and a thousand such
things. And as to the father, he was a man in a hurry of public affairs
and getting money, seldom at home, thoughtful of the main chance, but left
all those things to his wife.
You may easily believe, that
when the plot was thus, as they thought, broke out, and that every
one thought they knew how things were carried, it was not so difficult
or so dangerous for the elder brother, whom nobody suspected of anything,
to have a freer access to me than before; nay, the mother, which was
just as he wished, proposed it to him to talk with Mrs. Betty. ‘For
it may be, son,’ said she, ‘you may see farther into the thing than
I, and see if you think she has been so positive as Robin says she
has been, or no.’ This was as well as he could wish, and he, as it were,
yielding to talk with me at his mother’s request, she brought me to him
into her own chamber, told me her son had some business with me at her
request, and desired me to be very sincere with him, and then she left
us together, and he went and shut the door after her.
He came back to me and took
me in his arms, and kissed me very tenderly; but told me he had a long
discourse to hold with me, and it was not come to that crisis, that I should
make myself happy or miserable as long as I lived; that the thing was now
gone so far, that if I could not comply with his desire, we would both
be ruined. Then he told the whole story between Robin, as he called
him, and his mother and sisters and himself, as it is above. ‘And now,
dear child,’ says he, ‘consider what it will be to marry a gentleman
of a good family, in good circumstances, and with the consent of the whole
house, and to enjoy all that he world can give you; and what, on the other
hand, to be sunk into the dark circumstances of a woman that has lost her
reputation; and that though I shall be a private friend to you while I
live, yet as I shall be suspected always, so you will be afraid to see
me, and I shall be afraid to own you.’
He gave me no time to reply,
but went on with me thus: ‘What has happened between us, child, so long
as we both agree to do so, may be buried and forgotten. I shall always
be your sincere friend, without any inclination to nearer intimacy, when
you become my sister; and we shall have all the honest part of conversation
without any reproaches between us of having done amiss. I beg of you to
consider it, and to not stand in the way of your own safety and prosperity;
and to satisfy you that I am sincere,’ added he, ‘I here offer you
500 l in money, to make you some amends for the freedoms I have
taken with you, which we shall look upon as some of the follies of our
lives, which ’tis hoped we may repent of.’
He spoke this in so much more
moving terms than it is possible for me to express, and with so much greater
force of argument than I can repeat, that I only recommend it to those
who read the story, to suppose, that as he held me above an hour and a
half in that discourse, so he answered all my objections, and fortified
his discourse with all the arguments that human wit and art could devise.
I cannot say, however, that
anything he said made impression enough upon me so as to give me any thought
of the matter, till he told me at last very plainly, that if I refused,
he was sorry to add that he could never go on with me in that station as
we stood before; that though he loved me as well as ever, and that I was
as agreeable to him as ever, yet sense of virtue had not so far forsaken
him as to suffer him to lie with a woman that his brother courted to make
his wife; and if he took his leave of me, with a denial in this affair,
whatever he might do for me in the point of support, grounded on his first
engagement of maintaining me, yet he would not have me be surprised that
he was obliged to tell me he could not allow himself to see me any more;
and that, indeed, I could not expect it of him.
I received this last part with
some token of surprise and disorder, and had much ado to avoid sinking
down, for indeed I loved him to an extravagance not easy to imagine; but
he perceived my disorder. He entreated me to consider seriously of it;
assured me that it was the only way to preserve our mutual affection; that
in this station we might love as friends, with the utmost passion, and
with a love of relation untainted, free from our just reproaches, and free
from other people’s suspicions; that he should ever acknowledge his happiness
owing to me; that he would be debtor to me as long as he lived, and would
be paying that debt as long as he had breath. Thus he wrought me up, in
short, to a kind of hesitation in the matter; having the dangers on one
side represented in lively figures, and indeed, heightened by my imagination
of being turned out to the wide world a mere cast-off whore, for it
was no less, and perhaps exposed as such, with little to provide for
myself, with no friend, no acquaintance in the whole world, out of that
town, and there I could not pretend to stay. All this terrified me
to the last degree, and he took care upon all occasions to lay it home
to me in the worst colours that it could be possible to be drawn in. On
the other hand, he failed not to set forth the easy, prosperous life which
I was going to live.
He answered all that I could
object from affection, and from former engagements, with telling me the
necessity that was before us of taking other measures now; and as to his
promises of marriage, the nature of things, he said, had put an
end to that, by the probability of my being his brother’s wife, before
the time to which his promises all referred.
Thus, in a word, I may say,
he reasoned me out of my reason; he conquered all my arguments, and I began
to see a danger that I was in, which I had not considered of before, and
that was, of being dropped by both of them and left alone in the world
to shift for myself.
This, and his persuasion, at
length prevailed with me to consent, though with so much reluctance, that
it was easy to see I should go to church like a bear to the stake. I had
some little apprehensions about me, too, lest my new spouse, who, by the
way, I had not the least affection for, should be skillful enough to challenge
me on another account, upon our first coming to bed together. But whether
he did it with design or not, I know not, but his elder brother took care
to make him very much fuddled before he went to bed, so that I had the
satisfaction of a drunken bedfellow the first night. How he did it I know
not, but I concluded that he certainly contrived it, that his brother might
be able to make no judgment of the difference between a maid and a married
woman; nor did he ever entertain any notions of it, or disturb his thoughts
about it.
I should go back a little here
to where I left off. The elder brother having thus managed me, his next
business was to manage his mother, and he never left till he had brought
her to acquiesce and be passive in the thing, even without acquainting
the father, other than by post letters; so that she consented to our marrying
privately, and leaving her to mange the father afterwards.
Then he cajoled with his brother,
and persuaded him what service he had done him, and how he had brought
his mother to consent, which, though true, was not indeed done to
serve him, but to serve himself; but thus diligently did he cheat him,
and had the thanks of a faithful friend for shifting off his whore into
his brother’s arms for a wife. So certainly does interest banish all manner
of affection, and so naturally do men give up honour and justice, humanity,
and even Christianity, to secure themselves.
I must now come back to brother
Robin,
as we always called him, who having got his mother’s consent,
as above,
came big with the news to me, and told me the whole story of it, with a
sincerity so visible, that I must confess it grieved me that I must be
the instrument to abuse so honest a gentleman. But there was no remedy;
he would have me, and I was not obliged to tell him that I was his brother’s
whore, though I had no other way to put him off; so I came gradually into
it, to his satisfaction, and behold we were married.
Modesty forbids me to reveal
the secrets of the marriage-bed, but nothing could have happened more suitable
to my circumstances than that, as above, my husband was so fuddled
when he came to bed, that he could not remember in the morning whether
he had had any conversation with me or no, and I was obliged to tell him
he
had, though in reality he had not, that I might be sure he could
make to inquiry about anything else.
It concerns the story in hand
very little to enter into the further particulars of the family, or of
myself, for the five years that I lived with this husband, only to observe
that I had two children by him, and that at the end of five years he died.
He had been really a very good husband to me, and we lived very agreeably
together; but as he had not received much from them, and had in the little
time he lived acquired no great matters, so my circumstances were not great,
nor was I much mended by the match. Indeed, I had preserved the elder brother’s
bonds to me,to pay 500 l, which he offered me for my consent to
marry his brother; and this, with what I had saved of the money he formerly
gave me, about as much more by my husband, left me a widow with about 1200
l
in my pocket.
My two children were, indeed,
taken happily off my hands by my husband’s father and mother, and that,
by the way, was all they got by Mrs. Betty.
I confess I was not suitably
affected with the loss of my husband, nor indeed can I say that I ever
loved him as I ought to have done, or as was proportionable to the good
usage I had from him, for he was a tender, kind, good-humoured man as any
woman could desire; but his brother being so always in my sight, at
least while we were in the country, was a continual snare to me, and
I never was in bed with my husband but I wished myself in the arms of his
brother; and though his brother never offered me the least kindness that
way after our marriage, but carried it just as a brother out to do, yet
it was impossible for me to do so to him; in short, I committed adultery
and incest with him every day in my desires, which, without doubt, was
as effectually criminal in the nature of the guilt as if I had actually
done it.
Before my husband died his elder
brother was married, and we, being then removed to London, were
written to by the old lady to come and be at the wedding. My husband went,
but I pretended indisposition, and that I could not possibly travel, so
I stayed behind; for, in short, I could not bear the sight of his being
given to another woman, though I knew I was never to have him myself.
I was now, as above,
left loose to the world, and being still young and handsome, as everybody
said of me, and I assure you I thought myself so, and with a tolerable
fortune in my pocket, I put no small value upon myself. I was courted by
several very considerable tradesmen, and particularly very warmly by one,
a linen-draper, at whose house, after my husband’s death, I took
a lodging, his sister being my acquaintance. Here I had all the liberty
and all the opportunity to be gay and appear in company that I could desire,
my landlord’s sister being one of the maddest, gayest things alive, and
not so much mistress of her virtue as I thought as first she had been.
She brought me into a world of wild company, and even brought home several
persons, such as she liked well enough to gratify, to see her pretty
widow, so she was pleased to call me, and that name I got in a little
time in public. Now, as fame and fools make an assembly, I was here wonderfully
caressed, had abundance of admirers, and such as called themselves lovers;
but I found not one fair proposal among them all. As for their common design,
that I understood too well to be drawn into any more snares of that kind.
The case was altered with me: I had money in my pocket, and had nothing
to say to them. I had been tricked once by that cheat called love,
but the game was over; I was resolved now to be married or nothing, and
to be well married or not at all.
I loved the company, indeed,
of men of mirth and wit, men of gallantry and figure, and was often entertained
with such, as I was also with others; but I found by just observation,
that the brightest men came upon the dullest errand—that is to say,
the dullest as to what I aimed at. On the other hand, those who came with
the best proposals were the dullest and most disagreeable part of the world.
I was not averse to a tradesman, but then I would have a tradesman, forsooth,
that was something of a gentleman too; that when my husband had a mind
to carry me to the court, or to the play, he might become a sword, and
look as like a gentleman as another man; and not be one that had the mark
of his apron-strings upon his coat, or the mark of his hat upon his periwig;
that should look as if he was set on to his sword, when his sword was put
on to him, and that carried his trade in his countenance.
Well, at last I found this amphibious
creature, this land-water thing called a gentleman-tradesman;
and as a just plague upon my folly, I was catched in the very snare which,
as
I might say, I laid for myself. I said for my self, for I was
not trepanned, I confess, but I betrayed myself.
This was a draper, too,
for though my comrade would have brought me to a bargain with her brother,
yet when it came to the point, it was, it seems, for a mistress, not a
wife; and I kept true to this notion, that a woman should never be kept
for a mistress that had money to keep herself.
Thus my pride, not my principle,
my money, not my virtue, kept me honest; though, as it proved, I found
I had much better have been sold by my she-comrade to her brother,
than have sold myself as I did to a tradesman that was rake, gentleman,
shopkeeper, and beggar, all together.
But I was hurried on (by my
fancy to a gentleman) to ruin myself in the grossest manner that every
woman did; for my new husband coming to a lump of money at once, fell into
such a profusion of expense, that all I had, and all he had before, if
he had anything worth mentioning, would not have held it out above one
year.
He was very fond of me for about
a quarter of a year, and what I got by that was, that I had the pleasure
of seeing a great deal of my money spent upon myself, and, as I may say,
had some of the spending it too. ‘Come, my dear,’ says he to me one
day, ‘shall we go and take a turn into the country for about a week?’
‘Ay, my dear,’ says I, ‘whither would you go?’ ‘I care not whither,’
says
he, ‘but I have a mind to look like quality for a week. We’ll go to
Oxford,’ says he. ‘How,’ says I, ‘shall we go? I am no horsewoman,
and ’tis too far for a coach.’ ‘Too far!’ says he; ‘no place is
too far for a coach-and-six. If I carry you out, you shall travel like
a duchess.’ ‘Hum,’ says I, ‘my dear, ’tis a frolic; but if you have
a mind to it, I don’t care.’ Well, the time was appointed, we had a rich
coach, very good horses, a coachman, postilion, and two footmen in very
good liveries; a gentleman on horseback, and a page with a feather in his
hat upon another horse. The servants all called him my lord, and the inn-keepers,
you may be sure, did the like, and I was her honour the Countess,
and thus we traveled to Oxford, and a very pleasant journey we had; for,
give him his due, not a beggar alive knew better how to be a lord than
my husband. We saw all the rarities at Oxford, talked with two or three
Fellows of colleges about putting out a young nephew, that was left to
his lordship’s care, to the University, and of their being his tutors.
We diverted ourselves with bantering several other poor scholars, with
hopes of being at least his lordship’s chaplains and putting on a scarf;
and thus having lived like quality indeed, as to expense, we went away
for Northampton, and, in a word, in about twelve days’ ramble came
home again, to the tune of about 93 l expense.
Vanity is the perfection of
a fop. My husband had this excellence, that he valued nothing of expense;
and as his history, you may be sure, has very little weight in it, ’tis
enough to tell you that in about two years and a quarter he broke, and
was not so happy to get over into the Mint, but got into a sponging-house,
being arrested in an action too heavy from him to give bail to, so he sent
for me to come to him.
It was no surprise to me, for
I had foreseen some time that all was going to wreck, and had been
taking care to reserve something if I could, though it was not much,
for myself. But when he sent for me, he behaved much better than I expected,
and told me plainly he had played the fool, and suffered himself to be
surprised, which he might have prevented; that now he foresaw he could
not stand it, and therefore he would have me go home, and in the night
take away everything I had in the house of any value, and secure it; and
after that, he told me that if I could get away one hundred or two hundred
pounds in goods out of the shop, I should do it; ‘only,’ says he,
‘let me know nothing of it, neither what you take nor whither you carry
it; for as for me,’ says he, ‘I am resolved to get out of this house
and be gone; and if you never hear of me more, my dear,’ says he,
‘I wish you well; I am only sorry for the injury I have done you.’ He said
some very handsome things to me indeed at parting; for I told you
he was a gentleman, and that was all the benefit I had of his being
so; that he used me very handsomely and with good manners upon all occasions,
even to the last, only spent all I had, and left me to rob the creditors
for something to subsist on.
However, I did as he bade me,
that
you may be sure; and having thus taken my leave of him, I never saw
him more, for he found means to break out of the bailiff’s house that night
or the next, and go over into France, and for the rest of the creditors
scrambled for it as well as they could. How, I knew not, for I could come
at no knowledge of anything, more than this, that he came home about three
o’clock in the morning, caused the rest of his goods to be removed into
the Mint, and the shop to be shut up; and having raised what money
he could get together, he got over, as I said, to France, from whence
I had one or two letters from him, and no more.
I did not see him when he came
home, for he having given me such instructions as above, and I having made
the best of my time, I had no more business back again at the house, not
knowing but I might have been stopped there by the creditors; for a commission
of bankrupt being soon after issued, they might have stopped me by
orders from the commissioners. But my husband, having so dexterously
got out of the bailiff’s house by letting himself down in a most desperate
manner from almost the top of the house to the top of another building,
and leaping from thence, which was almost two storeys, and which was enough
indeed to have broken his neck, he came home and got away his goods before
the creditors could come to seize; that is to say, before they could
get out the commission, and be ready to send their officers to take possession.
My husband was so civil to me,
for
still I say he was much of a gentleman, that in the first letter he
wrote me from France, he let me know where he had pawned twenty
pieces of fine holland for 30 l, which were really worth
90 l, and enclosed me the token and an order for the taking them
up, paying the money, which I did, and made in time above 100 l
of them, having leisure to cut them and sell them, some and some, to private
families, as opportunity offered.
However, with all this, and
all that I had secured before, I found, upon casting things up, my case
was very much altered, any my fortune much lessened; for, including the
Hollands and a parcel of fine muslins, which I carried off before, and
some plate, and other things, I found I could hardly muster up 500 l;
and my condition was very odd, for though I had no child (I had had
one by my gentleman draper, but it was buried), yet I was a
widow bewitched; I had a husband and no husband, and I could not pretend
to marry again, though I knew well enough my husband would never see England
any more, if he lived fifty years. Thus, I say, I was limited from
marriage, what offer might soever be made me; and I had not one friend
to advise with in the condition I was in, lease not one I durst trust the
secret of my circumstances to, for if the commissioners were to have been
informed where I was, I should have been fetched up and examined upon oath,
and all I have saved be taken aware from me.
Upon these apprehensions, the
first thing I did was to go quite out of my knowledge, and go by another
name. This I did effectually, for I went into the Mint too, took
lodgings in a very private place, dressed up in the habit of a widow, and
called myself Mrs. Flanders.
Here, however, I concealed myself,
and though my new acquaintances knew nothing of me, yet I soon got a great
deal of company about me; and whether it be that women are scarce among
the sorts of people that generally are to be found there, or that some
consolations in the miseries of the place are more requisite than on other
occasions, I soon found an agreeable woman was exceedingly valuable among
the sons of affliction there, and that those that wanted money to pay half
a crown on the pound to their creditors, and that run in debt at the sign
of the Bull for their dinners, would yet find money for a supper,
if they liked the woman.
However, I kept myself safe
yet, though I began, like my Lord Rochester’s mistress, that loved
his company, but would not admit him farther, to have the scandal of a
whore, without the joy; and upon this score, tired with the place, and
indeed with the company too, I began to think of removing.
It was indeed a subject of strange
reflection to me to see men who were overwhelmed in perplexed circumstances,
who were reduced some degrees below being ruined, whose families were objects
of their own terror and other people’s charity, yet while a penny lasted,
nay, even beyond it, endeavouring to drown themselves, labouring to forget
former things, which not it was the proper time to remember, making more
work for repentance, and sinning on, as a remedy for sin past.
But it is none of my talent
to preach; these men were too wicked, even for me. There was something
horrid and absurd in their way of sinning, for it was all a force even
upon themselves; they did not only act against conscience, but against
nature; they put a rape upon their temper to drown the reflections, which
their circumstances continually gave them; and nothing was more easy than
to see how sighs would interrupt their songs, and paleness and anguish
sit upon their brows, in spite of the forced smiles they put on; nay, sometimes
it would break out at their very mouths when they had parted with their
money for a lewd treat or a wicked embrace. I have heard them, turning
about, fetch a deep sigh, and cry, ‘What a dog am I! Well, Betty,
my dear, I’ll drink thy health, though’; meaning the honest wife,
that perhaps had not a half-crown for herself and three or four children.
The next morning they are at their penitentials again; and perhaps the
poor weeping wife comes over to him, either brings him some account of
what his creditors are doing, and how she and the children are turned out
of doors, or some other dreadful news; and this adds to his self-reproaches;
but when he has thought and pored on it till he is almost mad, having no
principles to support him, nothing within him or above him to comfort him,
but finding it all darkness on every side, he flies to the same relief
again, viz. to drink it away, debauch it away, and falling into
company of men in just the same condition with himself, he repeats the
crime, and thus he goes every day one step onward of his way to destruction.
I was not wicked enough for
such fellows as these yet. On the contrary, I began to consider here very
seriously what I had to do; how things stood with me, and what course
I ought to take. I knew I had no friends, no, not one friend or relation
in the world; and that little I had left apparently wasted, which when
it was gone, I saw nothing but misery and starving was before me. Upon
these considerations, I say, and filled with horror at the place I was
in, and the dreadful objects which I had always before me, I resolved
to be gone.
I had made an acquaintance with
a very sober, good sort of a woman, who was a widow too, like me, but in
better circumstances. Her husband had been a captain of a merchant ship,
and having had the misfortune to be cast away coming home on a voyage from
the West Indies, which would have been very profitable if he had
come safe, was so reduced by the loss, that though he had saved his life
then, it broke his heart, and killed him afterwards; and his widow, being
pursued by the creditors, was forced to take shelter in the Mint.
She soon made things up with the help of friends, and was at liberty again;
and finding that I rather was there to be concealed, than by any particular
prosecutions and finding also that I agreed with her, or rather she
with me, in a just abhorrence of the place and of the company, she
invited to go home with her till I could put myself in some posture of
settling in the world to my mind; withal telling me, that it was ten to
one but some good captain of a ship might take a fancy to me, and court
me, in that part of the town where she lived.
