to such a streight; I never was. Miss Betterton was taken
from me against her own will. In that case her friends, not I, committed
the rape.

I have contrived to see the boy twice, unknown to the aunt who
takes care of him; loves him; and would not now part with him on any
consideration. The boy is a fine boy I thank God. No father need be
ashamed of him. He will be well provided for. If not, I would take
care of him. He will have his mother's fortune. They curse the father,
ungrateful wretches! but bless the boy--Upon the whole, there is nothing
vile in this matter on my side--a great deal on the Bettertons.

Wherefore, Joseph, be not thou in pain, either for my head, or for thy
own neck; nor for the Blue Boar; nor for the pretty Sow.

I love your jesting. Jesting better becomes a poor man than qualms.
I love to have you jest. All we say, all we do, all we wish for, is
a jest. He that makes life itself not so is a sad fellow, and has the
worst of it.

I doubt not, Joseph, but you have had your joys, as you say, as well
as your betters. May you have more and more, honest Joseph!--He
that grudges a poor man joy, ought to have none himself. Jest on,
therefore.--Jesting, I repeat, better becomes thee than qualms.

I had no need to tell you of Miss Betterton. Did I not furnish you with
stories enough, without hers, against myself, to augment your credit
with your cunning masters? Besides, I was loth to mention Miss
Betterton, her friends being all living, and in credit. I loved her
too--for she was taken from me by her cruel friends, while our joys were
young.

But enough of dear Miss Betterton.--Dear, I say; for death
endears.--Rest to her worthy soul!--There, Joseph, off went a deep sigh
to the memory of Miss Betterton!

As to the journey of little Titus, (I now recollect the fellow by his
name) let that take its course: a lady dying in childbed eighteen
months ago; no process begun in her life-time; refusing herself to give
evidence against me while she lived--pretty circumstances to found an
indictment for a rape upon!

As to your young lady, the ever-admirable Miss Clarissa Harlowe, I
always courted her for a wife. Others rather expected marriage from
the vanity of their own hearts, than from my promises; for I was always
careful of what I promised. You know, Joseph, that I have gone beyond my
promises to you. I do to every body; and why? because it is the best
way of showing that I have no grudging or narro