Aphra Behn - The Works of Aphra Behn

Fondlove ; but one whose Person and Humour did by no means hit with my Inclinations: And this gave Fondlove the unhappy Advantage over me. For, finding me one Day all alone in my Chamber, and lying on my Bed, in as mournful and wretched a Condition to my then foolish Apprehension, as now I am, he urged his Passion with such Violence, and accursed Success for me, with reiterated Promises of Marriage, whensoever I pleas’d to challenge ’em, which he bound with the most sacred Oaths, and most dreadful Execrations: that partly with my Aversion to the other, and partly with my Inclinations to pity him, I ruin’d my self. – Here she relaps’d into a greater Extravagance of Grief than before; which was so extreme that it did not continue long. When therefore she was pretty well come to herself, the antient Gentlewoman ask’d her, why she imagin’d herself ruin’d: To which she answer’d, I am great with Child by him, Madam, and wonder you did not perceive it last Night. Alas! I have not a Month to go: I am asham’d, ruin’d, and damn’d, I fear, for ever lost. Oh! fie, Madam, think not so, (said the other) for the Gentleman may yet prove true, and marry you. Ay, Madam (replied Bellamora ) I doubt not that he would marry me; for soon after my Mother’s Death, when I came to be at my own Disposal, which happen’d about two Months after, he offer’d, nay most earnestly sollicited me to it, which still he perseveres to do. This is strange! (return’d the other) and it appears to me to be your own Fault, that you are yet miserable. Why did you not, or why will you not consent to your own Happiness? Alas! (cry’d Bellamora ) ’tis the only Thing I dread in this World: For, I am certain, he can never love me after. Besides, ever since I have abhorr’d the Sight of him: and this is the only Cause that obliges me to forsake my Uncle, and all my Friends and Relations in the Country, hoping in this populous and publick Place to be most private, especially, Madam, in your House, and in your Fidelity and Discretion. Of the last you may assure yourself, Madam, (said the other:) but what Provision have you made for the Reception of the young Stranger that you carry about you? Ah, Madam! (cryd Bellamora ) you have brought to my Mind another Misfortune: Then she acquainted her with the suppos’d loss of her Money and Jewels, telling her withall, that she had but three Guineas and some Silver left, and the Rings she wore, in her present possession. The good Gentlewoman of the House told her, she would send to enquire at the Inn where she lay the first Night she came to Town; for, haply, they might give some Account of the Porter to whom she had entrusted her Trunk; and withal repeated her Promise of all the Help in her Power, and for that time left her much more compos’d than she found her. The good Gentlewoman went directly to the other Lady, her Lodger, to whom she recounted Bellamora’s mournful Confession; at which the Lady appear’d mightily concern’d: and at last she told her Landlady, that she would take Care that Bellamora should lie in according to her Quality: For, added she, the Child, it seems, is my own Brother’s.

As soon as she had din’d, she went to the Exchange , and bought Child-bed Linen; but desired that Bellamora might not have the least Notice of it: And at her return dispatch’d a Letter to her Brother Fondlove in Hampshire , with an Account of every Particular; which soon brought him up to Town, without satisfying any of his or her Friends with the Reason of his sudden Departure. Mean while, the good Gentlewoman of the House had sent to the Star Inn on Fish-street-Hill p. 8 Star-Inn on Fish-street-Hill. Fish Street Hill, or, New Fish Street, runs from Eastcheap to Lower Thames Street, and was the main thoroughfare to old London Bridge, cf. 2 Henry VI , iv, VIII: ‘ Cade. Up Fish Street! down St. Magnus’ corner! kill and knock down! throw them into the Thames.’ p. 9 the Exchange. The New Exchange, a kind of bazaar on the South side of the Strand. It was an immensely popular resort, and continued so until the latter years of the reign of Queen Anne. There are innumerable references to its shops, its sempstresses and haberdashers. Thomas Duffet was a milliner here before he took to writing farces, prologues and poems. , to demand the Trunk, which she rightly suppos’d to have been carried back thither: For by good Luck, it was a Fellow that ply’d thereabouts, who brought it to Bellamora’s Lodgings that very Night, but unknown to her. Fondlove no sooner got to London , but he posts to his Sister’s Lodgings, where he was advis’d not to be seen of Bellamora till they had work’d farther upon her, which the Landlady began in this manner; she told her that her Things were miscarried, and she fear’d, lost; that she had but a little Money her self, and if the Overseers of the Poor (justly so call’d from their over-looking ’em) should have the least Suspicion of a strange and unmarried Person, who was entertain’d in her House big with Child, and so near her Time as Bellamora was, she should be troubled, if they could not give Security to the Parish of twenty or thirty Pounds, that they should not suffer by her, which she could not; or otherwise she must be sent to the House of Correction, and her Child to a Parish-Nurse. This Discourse, one may imagine, was very dreadful to a Person of her Youth, Beauty, Education, Family and Estate: However, she resolutely protested, that she had rather undergo all this, than be expos’d to the Scorn of her Friends and Relations in the Country. The other told her then, that she must write down to her Uncle a Farewell-Letter, as if she were just going aboard the Pacquet-Boat for Holland , that he might not send to enquire for her in Town, when he should understand she was not at her new-married Cousin’s in the Country; which accordingly she did, keeping her self close Prisoner to her Chamber; where she was daily visited by Fondlove’s Sister and the Landlady, but by no Soul else, the first dissembling the Knowledge she had of her Misfortunes. Thus she continued for above three Weeks, not a Servant being suffer’d to enter her Chamber, so much as to make her Bed, lest they should take Notice of her great Belly: but for all this Caution, the Secret had taken Wind, by the means of an Attendant of the other Lady below, who had over-heard her speaking of it to her Husband. This soon got out of Doors, and spread abroad, till it reach’d the long Ears of the Wolves of the Parish, who next Day design’d to pay her a Visit: But Fondlove , by good Providence, prevented it; who, the Night before, was usher’d into Bellamora’s Chamber by his Sister, his Brother-in-Law, and the Landlady. At the Sight of him she had like to have swoon’d away: but he taking her in his Arms, began again, as he was wont to do, with Tears in his Eyes, to beg that she would marry him ere she was deliver’d; if not for his, nor her own, yet for the Child’s Sake, which she hourly expected; that it might not be born out of Wedlock, and so be made uncapable of inheriting either of their Estates; with a great many more pressing Arguments on all Sides: To which at last she consented; and an honest officious Gentleman, whom they had before provided, was call’d up, who made an End of the Dispute: So to Bed they went together that Night; next Day to the Exchange p. 9 the Exchange. The New Exchange, a kind of bazaar on the South side of the Strand. It was an immensely popular resort, and continued so until the latter years of the reign of Queen Anne. There are innumerable references to its shops, its sempstresses and haberdashers. Thomas Duffet was a milliner here before he took to writing farces, prologues and poems. , for several pretty Businesses that Ladies in her Condition want. Whilst they were abroad, came the Vermin of the Parish, (I mean, the Overseers of the Poor, who eat the Bread from ’em) to search for a young Blackhair’d Lady (for so was Bellamora ) who was either brought to Bed, or just ready to lie down. The Landlady shew’d ’em all the Rooms in her House, but no such Lady could be found. At last she bethought her self, and led ’em into her Parlour, where she open’d a little Closet-door, and shew’d ’em a black Cat that had just kitten’d: assuring ’em, that she should never trouble the Parish as long as she had Rats or Mice in the House; and so dismiss’d ’em like Loggerheads as they came.

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