Moll Flanders

“Why, sister,” says the gentleman very gravely, “what do you mean? I only desire her to go into the High Street” (and then he pulls out a turnover), “to such a shop.” And then he tells them a long story of two fine neckcloths he had bid money for, and he wanted to have me go and make an errand to buy a neck to that turnover that he showed, and if they would not take my money for the neckcloths to bid a shilling more, and haggle with them; and then he made more errands, and so continued to have such petty business to do, that I should be sure to stay a good while.

When he had given me my errands, he told them a long story of a visit he was going to make to a family they all knew, and where was to be such and such gentlemen, and very formally asked his sisters to go with him, and they as formally excused themselves, because of company that they had notice was to come and visit them that afternoon, all which by the way he had contrived on purpose.

He had scarce done speaking, but his man came up to tell him that Sir W — H —’s coach stopped at the door; so he runs down, and comes up again immediately. “Alas!” says he aloud, “there’s all my mirth spoiled at once; Sir W — has sent his coach for me, and desires to speak with me.” It seems this Sir W — was a gentleman who lived about three miles off, to whom he had spoke on purpose to lend him his chariot for a particular occasion, and had appointed it to call for him, as it did, about three o’clock.

Immediately he calls for his best wig, hat, and sword, and ordering his man to go to the other place to make his excuse, that was to say, he made an excuse to send his man away, he prepares to go into the coach. As he was going, he stopped awhile, and speaks mightily earnestly to me about his business, and finds an opportunity to say very softly, “Come away, my dear, as soon as ever you can.” I said nothing, but made a curtsy, as if I had done so to what he said in public; in about a quarter of an hour I went out too; I had no dress, other than before, except that I had a hood, a mask, a fan, and a pair of gloves in my pocket; so that there was not the least suspicion in the house. He waited for me in a back lane, which he knew I must pass by, and the coachman knew whither to go, which was to a certain place called Mile End, where lived a confidant of his, where we went in, and where was all the convenience in the world to be as wicked as we pleased.

When we were together, he began to talk very gravely to me, and to tell me, he did not bring me there to betray me; that his passion for me would not suffer him to abuse me: that he resolved to marry me as soon as he came to his estate; that in the meantime, if I would grant his request, he would maintain me very honourably, and made me a thousand protestations of his sincerity, and of his affection to me; and that he would never abandon me, and, as I may say, made a thousand more preambles than he need to have done.

However, as he pressed me to speak, I told him I had no reason to question the sincerity of his love to me, after so many protestations, but— and there I stopped, as if I left him to guess the rest.

“But what, my dear,” says he, “I guess what you mean, what if you should be with child, is not that it? Why then,” says he, “I’ll take care of you, and provide for you, and the child, too, and that you may see I am not in jest,” says he, “here’s an earnest for you”— and with that he pulls out a silk purse with an hundred guineas in it, and gave it me— “and I’ll give you such another,” says he, “every year till I marry you.”

My colour came and went at the sight of the purse, and with the fire of his proposal together, so that I could not say a word, and he easily perceived it; so putting the purse into my bosom, I made no more resistance to him, but let him do just what he pleased, and as often as he pleased; and thus I finished my own destruction at once, for from this day, being forsaken of my virtue, and my modesty, I had nothing of value left to recommend me, either to God’s blessing, or man’s assistance.

But things did not end here, I went back to the town, did the business he directed me to, and was at home before anybody thought me long; as for my gentleman, he stayed out till late at night, and there was not the least suspicion in the family, either on his account or on mine.

We had after this, frequent opportunities to repeat our crime, and especially at home when his mother and the young ladies went abroad a-visiting, which he watched so narrowly, as never to miss; knowing always beforehand when they went out, and then failed not to catch me all alone, and securely enough; so that we took our fill of our wicked pleasures for near half a year; and yet, which was the most to my satisfaction, I was not with child.

But before this half year was expired, his younger brother, of whom I have made some mention in the beginning of the story, falls to work with me; and he finding me alone in the garden one evening, begins a story of the same kind to me, made good honest professions of being in love with me; and, in short, proposes fairly and honourably to marry me.

I was now confounded, and driven to such an extremity, as the like was never known to me; I resisted the proposal with obstinacy, and began to arm myself with arguments: I laid before him the inequality of the match, the treatment I should meet with in the family, the ingratitude it would be to his good father and mother, who had taken me into their house upon such generous principles, and when I was in such a low condition; and, in short, I said everything to dissuade him that I could imagine except telling him the truth, which would indeed have put an end to it all, but that I durst not think of mentioning.

But here happened a circumstance that I did not expect indeed, which put me to my shifts; for this young gentleman, as he was plain and honest, so he pretended to nothing but what was so too; and knowing his own innocence, he was not so careful to make his having a kindness for Mrs. Betty a secret in the house, as his brother was; and though he did not let them know that he had talked to me about it, yet he said enough to let his sisters perceive he loved me, and his mother saw it too, which though they took no notice of to me, yet they did to him, and immediately I found their carriage to me altered more than ever before.

I saw the cloud, though I did not foresee the storm; it was easy, I say, to see their carriage was altered, and that it grew worse and worse every day, until at last I got information that I should in a very little while be desired to remove.

I was not alarmed at the news, having a full satisfaction that I should be provided for; and especially considering that I had reason every day to expect I should be with child, and that then I should be obliged to remove without any pretences for it.

After some time, the younger gentleman took an opportunity to tell me, that the kindness he had for me had got vent in the family; he did not charge me with it, he said, for he knew well enough which way it came out; he told me his way of talking had been the occasion of it, for that he did not make his respect for me so much a secret as he might have done, and the reason was, that he was at a point that if I would consent to have him, he would tell them all openly that he loved me, and that he intended to marry me: that it was true, his father and mother might resent it, and be unkind, but he was now in a way to live, being bred to the law, and he did not fear maintaining me, and that in short, as he believed I would not be ashamed of him, so he was resolved not to be ashamed of me, and that he scorned to be afraid to own me now, who he resolved to own after I was his wife, and therefore I had nothing to do but to give him my hand, and he would answer for all the rest.

I was now in a dreadful condition indeed, and now I repented heartily my easiness with the eldest brother, not from any reflection of conscience, for I was a stranger to those things, but I could not think of being a whore to one brother, and a wife to the other; it came also into my thoughts, that the first brother had promised to make me his wife when he came to his estate; but I presently remembered, what I had often thought of, that he had never spoken a word of having me for a wife, after he had conquered me for a mistress; and indeed till now, though I said I thought of it often, yet it gave no disturbance at all, for as he did not seem in the least to lessen his affection to me, so neither did he lessen his bounty, though he had the discretion himself to desire me not to lay out a penny in clothes, or to make the least show extraordinary, because it would necessarily give jealousy in the family, since everybody knew I could come at such things no manner of ordinary way, but by some private friendship, which they would presently have suspected.

I was now in a great strait, and knew not what to do; the main difficulty was this, the younger brother not only laid close siege to me, but suffered it to be seen; he would come into his sister’s room, and his mother’s room, and sit down, and talk a thousand kind things to me, even before their faces; so that the whole house talked of it, and his mother reproved him for it, and their carriage to me appeared quite altered; in short, his mother had let fall some speeches, as if she intended to put me out of the family, that is in English, to turn me out of doors. Now, I was sure this could not be a secret to his brother, only that he might think, as indeed nobody else yet did, that the youngest brother had made any proposal to me about it; but as I easily could see that it would go farther, so I saw likewise there was an absolute necessity to speak of it to him, or that he would speak of it to me, but knew not whether I should break it to him, or let it alone till he should break it to me.

Upon serious consideration, for indeed now I began to consider things very seriously, and never till now, I resolved to tell him of it first, and it was not long before I had an opportunity, for the very next day his brother went to London upon some business, and the family being out a-visiting, just as it happened before, and as indeed was often the case, he came according to his custom to spend an hour or two with Mrs. Betty.

When he had sat down awhile, he easily perceived there was an alteration in my countenance, that I was not so free and pleasant with him as I used to be, and particularly, that I had been a crying; he was not long before he took notice of it, and asked me in very kind terms what was the matter, and if anything troubled me: I would have put it off if I could, but it was not to be concealed; so after suffering many importunities to draw that out of me which I longed as much as possible to disclose, I told him that it was true, something did trouble me, and something of such a nature that I could hardly conceal from him, and yet that I could not tell how to tell him of it neither; that it was a thing that not only surprised me, but greatly perplexed me, and that I knew not what course to take, unless he would direct me. He told me with great tenderness, that let it be what it would, I should not let it trouble me, for he would protect me from all the world.

I then began at a distance, and told him I was afraid the ladies had got some secret information of our correspondence; for that it was easy to see that their conduct was very much changed towards me, and that now it was come to pass, that they frequently found fault with me, and sometimes fell quite out with me, though I never gave them the least occasion: that whereas I used always to lie with the eldest sister, I was lately put to lie by myself, or with one of the maids; and that I had overheard them several times talking very unkindly about me; but that which confirmed it all was, that one of the servants had told me that she had heard I was to be turned out, and that it was not safe for the family that I should be any longer in the house.

He smiled when he heard of this, and I asked him how he could make so light of it, when he must need know that if there was any discovery, I was undone, and that it would hurt him, though not ruin him, as it would me: I upbraided him, that he was like the rest of his sex, that when they had the character of a woman at their mercy, oftentimes made it their jest, and at least looked upon it as a trifle, and counted the ruin of those they had had their will of, as a thing of no value.

He saw me warm and serious, and he changed his style immediately; he told me, he was sorry I should have such a thought of him: that he had never given me the least occasion for it, but had been as tender of my reputation, as he could be of his own; that he was sure our correspondence had been managed with so much address, that not one creature in the family had so much as a suspicion of it; that if he smiled when I told him my thoughts, it was at the assurance he lately received, that our understanding one another was not so much as guessed at, and that when he had told me how much reason he had to be easy, I should smile as he did, for he was very certain it would give me a full satisfaction.

“This is a mystery I cannot understand,” says I, “or how it should be to my satisfaction, that I am to be turned out of doors; for if our correspondence is not discovered, I know not what else I have done to change the faces of the whole family to me, who formerly used me with so much tenderness, as if I had been one of their own children.”

“Why, look you, child,” says he; “that they are uneasy about you, that is true, but that they have the least suspicion of the case as it is, and as it respects you and I, is so far from being true, that they suspect my brother Robin, and, in short, they are fully persuaded he makes love to you: nay, the fool has put it into their heads too himself, for he is continually bantering them about it, and making a jest of himself; I confess I think he is wrong to do so, because he cannot but see it vexes them, and makes them unkind to you; but it is a satisfaction to me, because of the assurance it gives me, that they do not suspect me in the least, and I hope this will be to your satisfaction too.”

“So it is,” says I, “one way, but this does not reach my case at all, nor is this the chief thing that troubles me, though I have been concerned about that too.”

“What is it then?” says he. With which, I fell into tears, and could say nothing to him at all. He strove to pacify me all he could, but began at last to be very pressing upon me, to tell what it was; at last I answered, that I thought I ought to tell him too, and that he had some right to know it, besides, that I wanted his direction in the case, for I was in such perplexity that I knew not what course to take, and then I related the whole affair to him; I told him, how imprudently his brother had managed himself, in making himself so public; for that if he had kept it a secret, I could but have denied him positively, without giving any reason for it, and he would in time have ceased his solicitations; but that he had the vanity, first, to depend upon it that I would not deny him, and then had taken the freedom to tell his design to the whole house.

I told him how far I had resisted him, and how sincere and honourable his offers were. “But,” says I, “my case will be doubly hard; for as they carry it ill to me now, because he desires to have me, they’ll carry it worse when they shall find I have denied him: and they will presently say, there’s something else in it, and that I am married already to some body else, or that I would never refuse a match so much above me as this was.”

This discourse surprised him indeed very much. He told me that it was a critical point indeed for me to manage, and he did not see which way I should get out of it; but he would consider of it, and let me know next time we met, what resolution he was come to about it; and in the mean time, desired I would not give my consent to his brother, nor yet give him a flat denial, but that I would hold him in suspense awhile.

I seemed to start at his saying, I should not give him my consent; I told him he knew very well, I had no consent to give; that he had engaged himself to marry me, and that I was thereby engaged to him; that he had all along told me, I was his wife, and I looked upon myself as effectually so, as if the ceremony had passed; and that it was from his own mouth that I did so, he having all along persuaded me to call myself his wife.

“Well, my dear,” says he, “don’t be concerned at that now; if I am not your husband, I’ll be as good as a husband to you, and do not let those things trouble you now, but let me look a little farther into this affair, and I shall be able to say more next time we meet.”

He pacified me as well as he could with this, but I found he was very thoughtful, and that though he was very kind to me, and kissed me a thousand times, and more I believe, and gave me money too, yet he offered no more all the while we were together, which was above two hours, and which I much wondered at, considering how it used to be, and what opportunity we had.

His brother did not come from London for five or six days, and it was two days before he got an opportunity to talk with him; but then getting him by himself, he talked very close to him about it; and the same evening found means (for we had a long conference together) to repeat all their discourse to me, which as near as I can remember, was to the purpose following:

He told him he heard strange news of him since he went, viz., that he had made love to Mrs. Betty.

“Well,” says his brother, a little angrily, “and what then? What has anybody to do with that?”

“Nay,” says his brother, “don’t be angry, Robin, I don’t pretend to have anything to do with it; but I find they do concern themselves about it, and that they have used the poor girl ill about it, which I should take as done to myself.”

“Who do you mean by they?” says Robin.

“I mean my mother and the girls,” says the elder brother.

“But hark ye,” says his brother, “are you in earnest, do you really love the girl?”

“Why then,” says Robin, “I will be free with you, I do love her above all the women in the world, and I will have her, let them say and do what they will, I believe the girl will not deny me.”

It stuck me to the heart when he told me this, for though it was most rational to think I would not deny him, yet I knew in my own conscience, I must, and I saw my ruin in my being obliged to do so; but I knew it was my business to talk otherwise then, so I interrupted him in his story thus:

“Ay!” said I, “does he think I cannot deny him? but he shall find I can deny him for all that.”

“Well, my dear,” says he, “but let me give you the whole story as it went on between us, and then say what you will.”

Then he went on and told me, that he replied thus:

“But, brother, you know she has nothing, and you may have several ladies with good fortunes.”

“‘Tis no matter for that,” said Robin, “I love the girl; and I will never please my pocket in marrying, and not please my fancy.”

“And so, my dear,” adds he, “there is no opposing him.”

“Yes, yes,” says I, “I can oppose him, I have learnt to say ‘No,’ now, though I had not learnt it before; if the best lord in the land offered me marriage now, I could very cheerfully say ‘No’ to him.”

“Well, but, my dear,” says he, “what can you say to him? You know, as you said before, he will ask you many questions about it, and all the house will wonder what the meaning of it should be.”

“Why,” says I, smiling, “I can stop all their mouths at one clap, by telling him and them too, that I am married already to his elder brother.”

He smiled a little too at the word, but I could see it startled him, and he could not hide the disorder it put him into: however, he returned, “Why though that may be true, in some sense, yet I suppose you are but in jest, when you talk of giving such an answer as that, it may not be convenient on many accounts.”

“No, no,” says I pleasantly, “I am not so fond of letting that secret come out, without your consent.”

“But what then can you say to them,” says he, “when they find you positive against a match which would be apparently so much to your advantage?”

“Why,” says I, “should I be at a loss? First, I am not obliged to give them any reason: on the other hand, I may tell them I am married already, and stop there, and that will be a full stop too to him, for he can have no reason to ask one question after it.”

“Ay,” says he, “but the whole house will tease you about that, and if you deny them positively, they will be disobliged at you, and suspicious besides.”

“Why,” says I, “what can I do? What would you have me do? I was in strait enough before, as I told you, and acquainted you with the circumstances, that I might have your advice.”

“My dear,” says he, “I have been considering very much upon it, you may be sure, and though the advice has many mortifications in it to me, and may at first seem strange to you, yet all things considered, I see no better way for you, than to let him go on; and if you find him hearty and in earnest, marry him.”

I gave him a look full of horror at those words, and turning pale as death, was at the very point of sinking down out of the chair I sat in: when giving a start, “My dear,” says he aloud, “what’s the matter with you? Where are you agoing?”—and a great many such things; and with jogging and calling to me, fetched me a little to myself, though it was a good while before I fully recovered my senses, and was not able to speak for several minutes.

When I was fully recovered, he began again: “My dear,” says he, “I would have you consider seriously of it: you may see plainly how the family stand in this case, and they would be stark mad if it was my case, as it is my brother’s, and for ought I see, it would be my ruin and yours too.”

“Ay!” says I, still speaking angrily; “are all your protestations and vows to be shaken by the dislike of the family? Did I not always object that to you, and you made a light thing of it, as what you were above, and would not value; and is it come to this now? Is this your faith and honour, your love, and the solidity of your promises?”

He continued perfectly calm, notwithstanding all my reproaches, and I was not sparing of them at all; but he replied at last, “My dear, I have not broken one promise with you yet; I did tell you I would marry you when I was come to my estate; but you see my father is a hail, healthy man, and may live these thirty years still, and not be older than several are round us in the town; and you never proposed my marrying you sooner, because you know it might be my ruin; and as to the rest, I have not failed you in anything.”

I could not deny a word of this. “But why then,” says I, “can you persuade me to such a horrid step, as leaving you, since you have not left me? Will you allow no affection, no love on my side, where there has been so much on your side? Have I made you no returns?

Have I given no testimony of my sincerity, and of my passion? Are the sacrifices I have made of honour and modesty to you, no proof of my being tied to you in bonds too strong to be broken?”

“But here, my dear,” says he, “you may come into a safe station, and appear with honour, and the remembrance of what we have done may be wrapped up in an eternal silence, as if it had never happened; you shall always have my sincere affection, only then it shall be honest, and perfectly just to my brother; you shall be my dear sister, as now you are my dear—” and there he stopped.

“Your dear whore,” says I, “you would have said, and you might as well have said it; but I understand you: however, I desire you to remember the long discourses you have had with me, and the many hours’ pains you have taken to persuade me to believe myself an honest woman; that I was your wife intentionally, and that it was as effectual a marriage that had passed between us, as if we had been publicly wedded by the parson of the parish; you know these have been your own words to me.”

I found this was a little too close upon him, but I made it up in what follows; he stood stock still for a while, and said nothing, and I went on thus: