omforted--Whatever I
offered to you, was before you fainted away, and that, I am sure, was
innocent.
Sir, said I, that was very bad: and it was too plain you had the worst
designs. When, said he, I tell you the truth in one instance, you may
believe me in the other. I know not, I declare, beyond this lovely
bosom, your sex: but that I did intend what you call the worst is most
certain: and though I would not too much alarm you now, I could curse my
weakness, and my folly, which makes me own, that I love you beyond all
your sex, and cannot live without you. But if I am master of myself, and
my own resolution, I will not attempt to force you to any thing again.
Sir, said I, you may easily keep your resolution, if you'll send me out
of your way, to my poor parents; that is all I beg.
'Tis a folly to talk of it, said he. You must not, shall not go! And
if I could be assured you would not attempt it, you should have better
usage, and your confinement should be made easier to you.
But to what end, sir, am I to stay? said I: You yourself seem not sure
you can keep your own present good resolutions; and do you think, if I
was to stay, when I could get away, and be safe, it would not look,
as if either I confided too much in my own strength, or would tempt my
ruin? And as if I was not in earnest to wish myself safe, and out of
danger?--And then, how long am I to stay? And to what purpose? And
in what light must I appear to the world? Would not that censure me,
although I might be innocent? And you will allow, sir, that, if there be
any thing valuable or exemplary in a good name, or fair reputation, one
must not despise the world's censure, if one can avoid it.
Well, said he, I sent not for you on this account, just now; but for two
reasons. The first is, That you promise me, that for a fortnight to come
you will not offer to go away without my express consent; and this I
expect for your own sake, that I may give you a little more liberty. And
the second is, That you will see and forgive Mrs. Jewkes: she takes
on much, and thinks that, as all her fault was her obedience to me,
it would be very hard to sacrifice her, as she calls it, to your
resentment.
As to the first, sir, said I, it is a hard injunction, for the reasons
I have mentioned. And as to the second, considering her vile, unwomanly
wickedness, and her endeavours to instigate you more to ruin me, when
your returning goodness seemed to have some compassion up
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