fit for any wickedness, and conscience left off speaking where it found it could not be heard.
But to return to our story. Having 'consented, as above, to his proposal, we had not much more to do. He gave me my writings, and the bond for my maintenance during his life and for five hundred pounds after his death. And, so far was he from abating his affection to me afterwards, that two years after we were thus, as he called it, married, he made his will, and gave me a thousand pounds more, and all my household stuff, plate, &c., which was considerable too.
Amy put us to bed, and my new friend—I cannot call him husband—was so well pleased with Amy for her fidelity and kindness to me that he paid her all the arrear of her wages that I owed her, and gave her five guineas over; and, had it gone no farther, Amy had richly deserved what she had, for never was a maid so true to her mistress in such dreadful circumstances as I was in. Nor was what followed more her own fault than mine, who led her almost into it at first, and quite into it at last; and this may be a farther testimony what a hardness of crime I was now arrived to, which was owing to the conviction, that was from the beginning upon me, that I was a whore, not a wife; nor could I ever frame my mouth to call him husband or to say 'my husband' when I was speaking of him.
We lived, surely, the most agreeable life, the grand exception only excepted, that ever two lived together. He was the most obliging, gentle manly man, and the most tender of me, that ever woman gave herself up to. Nor was there ever the least interruption to our mutual kindness, no, not to the last day of his life. But I must bring Amy's disaster in at once, that I may have done with her.
Amy was dressing me one morning, for now I had two maids, and Amy was my chambermaid. 'Dear madam', says Amy, 'what! a'nt you with child yet?' 'No, Amy', says I; 'nor any sign of it.'
'Law, madam!', says Amy, 'what have you been doing? Why, you have been married a year and a half. I warrant you master would have got me with child twice in that time.' 'It may be so, Amy', says I. 'Let him try, can't you?' 'No', says Amy; 'you'll forbid it now. Before, I told you he should, with all my heart; but I won't now, now he's all your own.' 'Oh', says I, 'Amy, I'll freely give you my consent. It will be nothing at alL to me. Nay, I'll put you to bed to him myself one night or other, if you are willing.' 'No, madam, no', says Amy, 'not now he's yours.'
'Why, you fool you', says I, 'don't I tell you I'll put you to bed to him myself?' 'Nay, nay', says Amy, 'if you put me to bed to him, that's another case; I believe I shall not rise again very soon.' 'I'll venture that, Amy', says I.
After supper that night, and before we were risen from table, I said to him, Amy being by, 'Hark ye, Mr , do you know that you are to lie with Amy to-night?' 'No, not I', says he; but turns to Amy, 'Is it so, Amy?' says he. 'No, sir', says she. 'Nay, don't say no, you fool; did not I promise to put you to bed to him?' But the girl said 'No' still, and it passed off.
At night, when we came to go to bed, Amy came into the chamber to undress me, and her master slipped into bed first; then I began, and told him all that Amy had said about my not being with child, and of her being with child twice in that time. 'Ay, Mrs. Amy', says he. 'I believe
