Даниэль Дефо - Roxana

Well, Madam, says Amy , what can I do for them; they are gone, it seems, and cannot be heard of? When I see them, ’tis time enough.

She press’d Amy then, to oblige their Brother, out of the plentiful Fortune he was like to have, to do something for his Sisters, when he should be able.

Amy spoke coldly of that still, but said, she would consider of it; and so they parted for that time; they had several Meetings after this, for Amy went to see her adopted Son, and order’d his Schooling, Cloaths, and other things, but enjoin’d them not to tell the Young-Man any-thing, but that they thought the Trade he was at, too hard for him, and they wou’d keep him at-home a little longer, and give him some Schooling, to fit him for better Business; and Amy appear’d to him as she did before, only as one that had known his Mother, and had some Kindness for him.

Thus this Matter pass’d on for near a Twelve-month, when it happen’d, that one of my Maid-Servants having ask’d Amy Leave, for Amy was Mistress of the Servants, and took, and put-out such as she pleas’d; I say, having ask’d Leave to go into the City, to see her Friends, came Home crying bitterly, and in a most grievous Agony she was, and continued so several Days, till Amy perceiving the Excess, and that the Maid wou’d certainly cry herself Sick; she took an Opportunity with her, and examin’d her about it.

The Maid told her a long Story, that she had been to see her Brother, the only Brother she had in the World; and that she knew he was put-out Apprentice to a —; but there had come a Lady in a Coach, to his Uncle —, who had brought him up, and made him take him Home again; and so the Wench run-on with the whole Story, just as ’tis told above, till she came to that Part that belong’d to herself; and there, says she , I had not let them know where I liv’d; and the Lady wou’d have taken me, and they say, wou’d have provided for me too, as she has done for my Brother, but no-body cou’d tell where to find me, and so I have lost it all, and all the Hopes of being any-thing, but a poor Servant all my Days; and then the Girl fell a-crying again.

Amy said, what’s all this Story? who cou’d this Lady be? it must be some Trick sure? No, she said , it was not a Trick, for she had made them take her Brother home from Apprentice, and bought him new Cloaths, and put him to have more Learning; and the Gentlewoman said she wou’d make him her Heir.

Her Heir! says Amy ; what does that amount to; it may be she had nothing to leave him; she might make anybody her Heir.

No, no, says the Girl , she came in a fine Coach and Horses, and I don’t know how-many Footmen to attend her, and brought a great Bag of Gold, and gave it to my Uncle —, he that brought up my Brother, to buy him Cloaths, and to pay for his Schooling and Board.

He that brought up your Brother? says Amy ; why, did not he bring you up too, as well as your Brother? Pray who brought you up then?

Here the poor Girl told a melancholly Story, how an Aunt had brought-up her and her Sister, and how barbarously she had us’d them, as we have heard.

By this time Amy had her Head full enough, and her Heart too; and did not know how to hold it, or what to do, for she was satisfied that this was no other than my own Daughter; for she told her all the History of her Father and Mother; and how she was carried by their Maid, to her Aunt’s Door, just as is related in the beginning of my Story.

Amy did not tell me this Story for a great-while; nor did she well know what Course to take in it; but as she had Authority to manage every-thing in the Family, she took Occasion some time after, without letting me know any thing of it, to find some Fault with the Maid, and turn her away.

Her Reasons were good, tho’ at first I was not pleas’d when I heard of it, but I was convinc’d afterwards, that she was in the right; for if she had told me of it, I shou’d have been in great Perplexity between the Difficulty of concealing myself from my own Child, and the Inconvenience of having my Way of Living be known among my First Husband’s Relations, and even to my Husband himself; for as to his being dead at Paris, Amy seeing me resolv’d against marrying any-more, had told me, that she had form’d that Story only to make me easie, when I was in Holland , if any-thing should offer to my liking.

However, I was too tender a Mother still, notwithstanding what I had done, to let this poor Girl go about the World drudging, as it were, for Bread, and slaving at the Fire, and in the Kitchin, as a Cook-Maid; besides it came into my Head, that she might, perhaps, marry some poor Devil of a Footman, or a Coachman, or some such thing, and be undone that way; or, which was worse, be drawn in to lie with some of that course cursed Kind, and be with-Child, and be utterly ruin’d that way; and in the midst of all my Prosperity this gave me great Uneasiness.

As to sending Amy to her, there was no doing that now; for as she had been Servant in the House, she knew Amy , as well as Amy knew me; and no doubt, tho’ I was much out of her Sight, yet she might have had the Curiosity to have peep’d at me, and seen me enough to know me again, if I had discover’d myself to her; so that, in short, there was nothing to be done that way.

However, Amy , a diligent indefatigable Creature, found out another Woman, and gave her her Errand, and sent her to the honest Man’s House in Spittle-Fields , whither she suppos’d the Girl wou’d go, after she was out of her Place; and bade her talk with her, and tell her at a distance, that as something had been done for her Brother, so something wou’d be done for her too; and that she shou’d not be discourag’d, she carried her 20 l . to buy her Cloaths, and bid her not go to Service any-more, but think of other things; that she shou’d take a Lodging in some good Family, and that she shou’d soon hear farther.

The Girl was overjoy’d with this News, you may be sure, and at first a little too much elevated with it, and dress’d herself very handsomely indeed, and as soon as she had done so, came and paid a Visit to Madam Amy , to let her see how fine she was: Amy congratulated her, and wish’d it might be all as she expected; but admonish’d her not to be elevated with it too much; told her, Humility was the best Ornament of a Gentlewoman; and a great deal of good Advice she gave her, but discover’d [230] discover’d : revealed. nothing.

All this was acted in the first Years of my setting-up my new Figure here in Town, and while the Masks and Balls were in Agitation; [231] while the Masks and Balls were in Agitation : masquerade balls were revived early in the reign of George I (1714–27) and, under the management of the Swiss promoter, John James Heidegger, became immensely popular. See notes 188–9. and Amy carried on the Affair of setting-out my Son into the World, which we were assisted in by the sage Advice of my faithful Counsellor, Sir Robert Clayton , who procur’d us a Master for him, by whom he was afterwards sent Abroad to Italy , as you shall hear in its Place; and Amy manag’d my Daughter too, very well, tho’ by a third hand.

My Amour with my Lord — began now to draw to an end, and indeed, notwithstanding his Money, it had lasted so long, that I was much more sick of his Lordship, than he cou’d be of me; he grew old, and fretful, and captious, and I must add, which made the Vice itself begin to grow surfeiting and nauceous to me, he grew worse and wickeder the older he grew, and that to such Degree, as is not fit to write of; and made me so weary of him, that upon one of his capricious Humours, which he often took Occasion to trouble me with, I took Occasion to be much less complaisant to him than I us’d to be; and as I knew him to be hasty, I first took care to put him into a little Passion, and then to resent it, and this brought us to Words; in which I told him, I thought he grew sick of me; and he answer’d; in a heat, that truly so he was ; I answer’d, that I found his Lordship was endeavouring to make me sick too ; that I had met with several such Rubs from him of late; and that he did not use me as he us’d to do; and I begg’d his Lordship, he wou’d make himself easie: This I spoke with an Air of Coldness and Indifference, such as I knew he cou’d not bear; but I did not downright quarrel with him, and tell him I was sick of him too , and desire him to quit me, for I knew that wou’d come of itself; besides, I had receiv’d a great-deal of handsome Usage from him, and I was loth to have the Breach be on my Side, that he might not be able to say I was ungrateful.