back to the Bath, where, as he had opportunity to come to
me when he would, he often repeated the moderation, and I
frequently lay with him, and he with me, and although all the
familiarities between man and wife were common to us, yet
he never once offered to go any farther, and he valued himself
much upon it. I do not say that I was so wholly pleased with
it as he thought I was, for I own much wickeder than he, as
you shall hear presently.
We lived thus near two years, only with this exception, that
he went three times to London in that time, and once he
continued there four months; but, to do him justice, he always
supplied me with money to subsist me very handsomely.
Had we continued thus, I confess we had had much to boast
of; but as wise men say, it is ill venturing too near the brink of
a command, so we found it; and here again I must do him the
justice to own that the first breach was not on his part. It was
one night that we were in bed together warm and merry, and
having drunk, I think, a little more wine that night, both of us,
than usual, although not in the least to disorder either of us,
when, after some other follies which I cannot name, and being
clasped close in his arms, I told him (I repeat it with shame
and horror of soul) that I could find in my heart to discharge
him of his engagement for one night and no more.
He took me at my word immediately, and after that there was
no resisting him; neither indeed had I any mind to resist him
any more, let what would come of it.
Thus the government of our virtue was broken, and I
exchanged the place of friend for that unmusical, harsh-sounding
title of whore. In the morning we were both at our penitentials;
I cried very heartily, he expressed himself very sorry; but that
was all either of us could do at that time, and the way being
thus cleared, and the bars of virtue and conscience thus removed,
we had the less difficult afterwards to struggle with.
It was but a dull kind of conversation that we had together
for all the rest of that week; I looked on him with blushes, and
every now and then started that melancholy objection, ‘What
if I should be with child now? What will become of me then?’
He encouraged me by telling me, that as long as I was true to
him, he would be so to me; and since it was gone such a length
(which indeed he never intended), yet if I was with child, he
would take care of that, and of me too. This hardened us both.
I assured him if I was with child, I would die for want of a
midwife rather than name him as the father of it; and he assured
me I should never want if I should be with child. These mutual
assurances hardened us in the thing, and after this we repeated
the crime as often as we pleased, till at length, as I had feared,
so it came to pass, and I was indeed with child.
After I was sure it was so, and I had satisfied him of it too,
we began to think of taking measures for the managing it, and
I proposed trusting the secret to my landlady, and asking her
advice, which he agreed to. My landlady, a woman (as I found)
used to such things, made light of it; she said she knew it would
come to that at last, and made us very merry about it. As I said
above, we found her an experienced old lady at such work; she
undertook everything, engaged to procure a midwife and a nurse,
to satisfy all inquiries, and bring us off with reputation, and she
did so very dexterously indeed.
When I grew near my time she desired my gentleman to go
away to London, or make as if he did so. When he was gone,