it had saved me that unlucky blow at
Paris, which was a dead loss to me of above eight thousand pistoles, and
all the fatigues of so many years' hurry and business;" and then he
added, "But I'll make you pay for it all, now I have you." I started a
little at the words. "Ay," said I, "do you threaten already? Pray what
d'ye mean by that?" and began to look a little grave.

"I'll tell you," says he, "very plainly what I mean;" and still he held
me fast in his arms. "I intend from this time never to trouble myself
with any more business, so I shall never get one shilling for you more
than I have already; all that you will lose one way. Next, I intend not
to trouble myself with any of the care or trouble of managing what
either you have for me or what I have to add to it; but you shall e'en
take it all upon yourself, as the wives do in Holland; so you will pay
for it that way too, for all the drudgery shall be yours. Thirdly, I
intend to condemn you to the constant bondage of my impertinent company,
for I shall tie you like a pedlar's pack at my back. I shall scarce
ever be from you; for I am sure I can take delight in nothing else in
this world." "Very well," says I; "but I am pretty heavy. I hope you'll
set me down sometimes when you are aweary." "As for that," says he,
"tire me if you can."

This was all jest and allegory; but it was all true, in the moral of the
fable, as you shall hear in its place. We were very merry the rest of
the day, but without any noise or clutter; for he brought not one of his
acquaintance or friends, either English or foreigner. The honest Quaker
provided us a very noble dinner indeed, considering how few we were to
eat it; and every day that week she did the like, and would at last have
it be all at her own charge, which I was utterly averse to; first,
because I knew her circumstances not to be very great, though not very
low; and next, because she had been so true a friend, and so cheerful a
comforter to me, ay, and counsellor too, in all this affair, that I had
resolved to make her a present that should be some help to her when all
was over.

But to return to the circumstances of our wedding. After being very
merry, as I have told you, Amy and the Quaker put us to bed, the honest
Quaker little thinking we had been abed together eleven years before.
Nay, that was a secret which, as it happened, Amy herself did not know.
Amy grinned and made faces, as if she had been pleased; but it came o