Даниэль Дефо - Roxana

But the Misery of my own Circumstances hardned my Heart against my own Flesh and Blood; and when I consider’d they must inevitably be Starv’d, and I too, if I continued to keep them about me, I began to be reconcil’d to parting with them all, any how, and any where, that I might be freed from the dreadful Necessity of seeing them all perish, and perishing with them myself: So I agreed to go away out of the House, and leave the Management of the whole Matter to my Maid Amy , and to them, and accordingly I did so; and the same Afternoon they carried them all away to one of their Aunts .

Amy , a resolute Girl, knock’d at the Door, with the Children all with her, and bade the Eldest, as soon as the Door was open, run in, and the rest after her: She set them all down at the Door before she knock’d, and when she knock’d, she staid till a Maid-Servant came to the Door; Sweetheart, said she, pray go in and tell your Mistress, here are her little Cousins come to see her from —, naming the Town where we liv’d, at which the Maid offer’d to go back: Here Child, says Amy , take one of ’em in your Hand, and I’ll bring the rest; so she gives her the least, and the Wench goes in mighty innocently, with the Little One in her Hand, upon which Amy turns the rest in after her, shuts the Door softly, and marches off as fast as she cou’d.

Just in the Interval of this, and even while the Maid and her Mistress were quarrelling, for the Mistress rav’d and scolded at her like a Mad-Woman, and had order’d her to go and stop the Maid Amy , and turn all the Children out of the Doors again; but she had been at the Door, and Amy was gone, and the Wench was out of her Wits, and the Mistress too: I say, just at this Juncture came the poor old Woman, not the Aunt, but the other of the two that had been with me, and knocks at the Door; the Aunt did not go, because she had pretended to Advocate for me, and they would have suspected her of some Contrivance; but as for the other Woman, they did not so much as know that she had kept up any Correspondence with me.

Amy and she had concerted this between them, and it was well enough contriv’d that they did so. When she came into the House, the Mistress was fuming and raging like one Distracted, and calling the Maid all the foolish Jades and Sluts that she could think of, and that she would take the Children and turn them all out into the Streets. The good poor Woman seeing her in such a Passion, turn’d about as if she would be gone again, and said, Madam, I’ll come again another time, I see you are engag’d. No, no, Mrs. —, says the Mistress, I am not much engag’d, sit down: This senseless Creature here has brought in, my Fool of a Brother’s whole House of Children upon me, and tells me, that a Wench brought them to the Door, and thrust them in, and bade her carry them to me; but it shall be no Disturbance to me, for I have order’d them to be set in the Street, without the Door, and so let the Church-Wardens take Care of them, or else make this dull Jade carry ’em back to — again, and let her that brought them into the World, look after them if she will; what does she send her Bratts to me for?

The last, indeed, had been the best of the two, says the Poor Woman, if it had been to be done, and that brings me to tell you my Errand, and the Occasion of my coming, for I came on purpose about this very Business, and to have prevented this being put upon you, if I cou’d; but I see I am come too late.

How do you mean too late, says the Mistress? What, have you been concern’d in this Affair then? What, have you help’d bring this Family-Slur upon us? I hope you do not think such a thing of me, Madam, says the poor Woman; but I went this Morning to —, to see my old Mistress and Benefactor, for she had been very kind to me, and when I came to the Door, I found all fast lock’d and bolted, and the House looking as if no-body was at Home.

I knock’d at the Door, but no-body came, till at last some of the Neighbours’ Servants call’d to me, and said, There’s no-body lives there, Mistress, what do you knock for? I seem’d surpriz’d at that: What, no-body live there! said I , what d’ ye mean! Does not Mrs. — live there? The Answer was, No, she is gone; at which I parly’d with one of them, and ask’d her what was the Matter; Matter, says she, why ’tis Matter enough, the poor Gentlewoman has liv’d there all alone, and without any thing to subsist her, a long time, and this Morning the Landlord turn’d her out of Doors.

Out of Doors! says I , what with all her Children, poor Lambs, what is become of them? Why truly, nothing worse, said they , can come to them than staying here, for they were almost starv’d with Hunger; so the Neighbours seeing the poor Lady in such Distress, for she stood crying, and wringing her Hands over her Children like one distracted, sent for the Church-Wardens to take care of the Children; and they, when they came, took the Youngest, which was born in this Parish, and have got it a very good Nurse, and taken Care of it; but as for the other four, they had sent them away to some of their Father’s Relations, and who were very substantial People, and who besides that, liv’d in the Parish where they were born.

I was not so surpriz’d at this, as not presently to foresee that this Trouble would be brought upon you, or upon Mr. —; so I came immediately to bring you word of it, that you might be prepar’d for it, and might not be surpriz’d, but I see they have been too nimble for me, so that I know not what to advise; the poor Woman, it seems, is turn’d out of Doors into the Street; and another of the Neighbours there told me, that when they took her Children from her, she swoon’d away, and when they recover’d her out of that, she run distracted, and is put into a Mad-House by the Parish; for there is no-body else to take any Care of her.

This was all acted to the Life by this good, kind, poor Creature; for tho’ her Design was perfectly good and charitable, yet there was not one Word of it true in Fact; for I was not turn’d out of Doors by the Landlord, nor gone distracted; it was true, indeed, that at parting with my poor Children, I fainted, and was like one Mad when I came to myself and found they were gone; but I remain’d in the House a good while after that; as you shall hear.

While the poor Woman was telling this dismal Story, in came the Gentlewoman’s Husband, and tho’ her Heart was harden’d against all Pity, who was really and nearly related to the Children, for they were the Children of her own Brother; yet the good Man was quite soften’d with the dismal Relation of the Circumstances of the Family; and when the poor Woman had done, he said to his Wife, This is a dismal Case, my Dear, indeed, and something must be done: His Wife fell a raving at him, What says she , do you want to have four Children to keep? Have we not Children of our own? Would you have these Bratts come and eat up my Children’s Bread? No, no, let ’em go to the Parish, and let them take Care of them, I’ll take Care of my own.

Come, come, my Dear, says the Husband , Charity is a Duty to the Poor, and he that gives to the Poor, lends to the Lord ; [43] he that gives to the Poor, lends to the Lord : Proverbs 19:17; cf. Matthew 19:21. let us lend our Heavenly Father a little of our Children’s Bread, as you call it, it will be a Store well laid up for them, and will be the best Security that our Children shall never come to want Charity, or be turn’d out of Doors, as these poor innocent Creatures are.

Don’t tell me of Security, says the Wife , ’tis a good Security for our Children, to keep what we have together, and provide for them, and then ’tis time enough to help keep other Folks’ Children; Charity begins at home.