Didactic fiction; Domestic fiction; England -- Fiction; Married women -- Fiction
When that happy day came, in which unhallowed hands are forbidden to
contaminate the shoulders of the unfortunate, Booth went early to the
colonel's house, and, being admitted to his presence, began with great
freedom, though with great gentleness, to complain of his not having
dealt with him with more openness. "Why, my dear colonel," said he,
"would you not acquaint me with that secret which this letter hath
disclosed?" James read the letter, at which his countenance changed
more than once; and then, after a short silence, said, "Mr. Booth, I
have been to blame, I own it; and you upbraid me with justice. The
true reason was, that I was ashamed of my own folly. D--n me, Booth,
if I have not been a most consummate fool, a very dupe to this woman;
and she hath a particular pleasure in making me so. I know what the
impertinence of virtue is, and I can submit to it; but to be treated
thus by a whore--You must forgive me, dear Booth, but your success was
a kind of triumph over me, which I could not bear. I own, I have not
the least reason to conceive any anger against you; and yet, curse me
if I should not have been less displeased at your lying with my own
wife; nay, I could almost have parted with half my fortune to you more
willingly than have suffered you to receive that trifle of my money
which you received at her hands. However, I ask your pardon, and I
promise you I will never more think of you with the least ill-will on
the account of this woman; but as for her, d--n me if I do not enjoy
her by some means or other, whatever it costs me; for I am already
above two hundred pounds out of pocket, without having scarce had a
smile in return."
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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