John Barth - The Sot-Weed Factor

"I'faith!"

"The prayer went no farther, for in the cold light that all men look through after swiving, the rector knew the error of his ways and turned my mother out. From there 'twas no great step to harlotry, inasmuch as she was trained already to do the tricks of love as lightly as a deacon trims his candles, with no stirrings o' the heart. I was born and raised in the alleys o' Newgate, and ere ever I saw thirteen I had sold my first fruits for two pound sterling to a gentleman of St. Andrew's Undershaft and was walking the streets with Mother. 'Twas this led her to her second mistake, with the physician — "

"I doubt not 'tis a tale well worth the hearing," Ebenezer interrupted, "but I'd liefer you hasten to the matter at hand, else I'll not have time to hear you out."

"As't please ye," Mary chuckled. "I'll say no more than that my sister Katy was the issue of't, as was I of her first, and my mother died a-bearing. I was but fifteen then myself, and obliged to work the night through to feed the twain of us, but I raised Katy like my own daughter, and when she was old enough to stand the gaff but young enough to whet the jaded lust o' the wealthy, I made her a fine first match with a Scottish earl that was stopping in London, and prenticed her into the trade. When we learnt what prices were for women in the Plantations, 'twas I that brought us over and set us up in Maryland, where we plied our business with profit for many a year. Yet so far from feeling thankful for my care, young Kate did e'er abuse and despise me. She was wont to play the lady at every chance, and take my labors as her due, and declare 'twas my fault she was a whore. No man was good enough for Kate, and while 'tis true an air of refinement doth ever raise a harlot's price, she must never be refractory in the bed; but so capricious was dear Katy, she'd ofttimes lure a man to hire her and then throw his money in his face!

"Now there lived a wealthy Dutchman on the Little Choptank River, name of Wilhelm Tick. He was a jolly old widower, round as a ball and canny as a Jew, that had got his fortune raising livestock in lieu o' sot-weed. This Wilhelm had two grown sons named Willi and Peter, the one not worth a farthing and the other not worth a fart, that did naught from day to mortal day but drink Barbados rum and race their horses up and down the roads o' Dorset. They were great blond hulking wights, the pair of 'em, more crafty than bright, and since they knew they were old Wilhelm's only heirs, they were content to let him labor to an early grave whilst they spent a part of their inheritance in advance. 'Tis not marvelous to hear that little Kate was a great favorite with these gentlemen, so like were their tempers; devil the bit I warned her they were cruel and shifty louts, that of't as not drank up her fee before she had a penny of't, she would none o' my advice, and gave 'em their will o' her whene'er they pleased.

" 'Twas not till a year of this had passed that I learned her true plan: old Wilhelm, it turned out, knew well his sons were idle spendthrifts, that cared not to fig for all he'd done for them, and after much debate with himself had vowed to change his entire style of life. He resolved to toil no more to increase his wealth but enjoy what he had ere he died, and spend the balance of his years doing the things men do for pleasure.

"Just about this time Willi and Peter found that Katy would have no more of 'em, for all they bribed and threatened. And albeit none knows to this day how she contrived it, within the month she was the bride of Mynheer Wilhelm Tick himself, that little dreamed what he'd wed! The first the brothers knew of't was when they found her in their house, by Wilhelm's side, and their father said, 'Willi and Peter, this little girl is your new mother. We love each other with all our hearts, and ye must cherish and respect her as ye would your own mother if she were alive.'

"Then they were obliged to bow to Katy and kiss her hand, but as soon as Wilhelm was gone they turned on her, and held her by her arms, and said, 'What have ye told our father, to turn his feeble head? D'ye think to steal his wealth and leave us none? What will he say when we tell him thou'rt a Bridewell whore with lashmarks on your back, and have been swived by every wight in Dorset?' But Katy sniffed at their threats, for she had given Wilhelm to know she was an orphan and a virgin, and had been whipped by her heartless sister for not turning to harlotry. And to protect herself from harm, she threatened in turn that should they make a move to injure or malign her, she would complain to Wilhelm they were out to make him a cuckold. Thus they were obliged to stew in silence whilst their father doted shamefully on Kate, and jumped to please her slightest whim. On their wedding night she used every trick I'd taught her to make a man o' Mynheer Wilhelm, with small success; for unlike Boccaccio's leek — "

"Boccaccio!" cried the Laureate. "How is't you know Boccaccio? 'Tis too marvelous!"

Mary laughed. " 'Tis e'en more marvelous than ye think, as I'll explain anon. Unlike Boccaccio's leek, I was about to say, that hath a white head and a green tail, poor Wilhelm bore more likeness to the hound he called a dachshund, whose tail lags many paces behind his head and never can o'erhaul it. But by one means or another, Kate got him briefly starched, and then raised such a hue and cry ye'd have thought she was Pasiphae being rogered by the bull."

" 'Sbody, madam! First Boccaccio and now Pasiphae!"

"Old Wilhelm thought he'd got her maidenhead, and the more injury she feigned, the more he puffed with pride. Within the week he declared to Willi and Peter that inasmuch as Katy had brought him his first joy in years, he had altered the terms of his will and testament: one moiety of his estate was to pass to Kate, and the other to be divided between the boys.

"This the wastrels could not abide, more especially since their father had taken to toiling so strenuously in the bed that his health was slipping fast; 'twould not be long ere he perished of the effort, and they would be done out of their legacy. But so like to theirs in craftiness was Katy's disposition, she knew well what they schemed, and laid plans of her own to have the best of 'em."

At this point in her narrative Mary's face lost its perpetual expression of good humor; lowering her head, she worried a pebble on the ground with an oat-straw.

" 'Tis here that Charley Mattassin steps on stage," she said.

"Ah," Ebenezer's face brightened. "The murtherous salvage Indian."

"Ye speak from ignorance," Mary said sharply. "Methinks ye should have learned by now what folly it is to judge ere ye know the facts. Charley Mattassin was my lover, and the dearest lover e'er a woman had."

Ebenezer blushed and apologized.

"Charley Mattassin!" she sighed, and narrowed her downcast eyes. "I scarce know how to make ye see him clear."

"I have heard already he was the son of a salvage king," the poet offered, "and had a wondrous hatred of the English."

Mary nodded. "He was the son of Chicamec, that no white man hath seen and lived to tell it. His people are a kind of Nanticokes that call themselves Ahatchwhoops; they live to themselves in the wildest parts of the Dorset marshes, and move their town from place to place."

"Marry! Why doth the Governor not reduce 'em?"

"Because he ne'er could find 'em, for one thing. Besides, their number is small, and they live entirely amongst themselves. 'Tis easier to forget them than to hunt 'em out and kill 'em at the peril of your life and member. These Ahatchwhoops never look for trouble, but when an Englishman falls into their hands they either kill him or make him more wretched than a eunuch."

Ebenezer shuddered at the thought. " 'Twas perilous to take one for a lover, was't not?"