devil: but in my master's t'other house you
have not one false heart, but myself. Out upon me for a villain!'

My dear father and mother, when you come to this place, I make no doubt
your hair will stand on end as mine does!--O the deceitfulness of the
heart of man!--This John, that I took to be the honestest of men; that
you took for the same; that was always praising you to me, and me to
you, and for nothing so much as for our honest hearts; this very fellow
was all the while a vile hypocrite, and a perfidious wretch, and helping
to carry on my ruin.

But he says so much of himself, that I will only sit down with this
sad reflection, That power and riches never want tools to promote their
vilest ends, and there is nothing so hard to be known as the heart
of man:--I can but pity the poor wretch, since he seems to have great
remorse, and I believe it best to keep his wickedness secret. If it lies
in my way, I will encourage his penitence; for I may possibly make some
discoveries by it.

One thing I should mention in this place; he brought down, in a
portmanteau, all the clothes and things my lady and master had given me,
and moreover two velvet hoods, and a velvet scarf, that used to be worn
by my lady; but I have no comfort in them, or any thing else.

Mrs. Jewkes had the portmanteau brought into my closet, and she shewed
me what was in it; but then locked it up, and said, she would let me
have what I would out of it, when I asked; but if I had the key, it
might make me want to go abroad, may be; and so the confident woman put
it in her pocket.

I gave myself over to sad reflections upon this strange and surprising
discovery of John's, and wept much for him, and for myself too; for now
I see, as he says, my ruin has been long hatching, that I can make no
doubt what my master's honourable professions will end in. What a heap
of hard names does the poor fellow call himself! But what must they
deserve, then, who set him to work? O what has this wicked master to
answer for, to be so corrupt himself, and to corrupt others, who would
have been all innocent; and to carry on a poor plot, I am sure for a
gentleman, to ruin a poor creature, who never did him harm, nor wished
him any; and who can still pray for his happiness, and his repentance?

I can't but wonder what these gentlemen, as they are called, can think
of themselves for these vile doings! John had some inducement; for he
hoped to please his master, who rewar