Historical fiction; London (England) -- History -- 17th century -- Fiction; Plague -- Fiction
At length I considered that this was not a time to be cruel and
rigorous; and besides that, it would necessarily oblige me to go much
about, to have several people come to me, and I go to several, whose
circumstances of health I knew nothing of; and that, even at this time,
the plague was so high as that there died four thousand a week; so that,
in showing my resentment, or even in seeking justice for my brother's
goods, I might lose my own life. So I contented myself with taking the
names and places where some of them lived, who were really inhabitants
in the neighborhood, and threatening that my brother should call them to
an account for it when he returned to his habitation.
Then I talked a little upon another footing with them, and asked them
how they could do such things as these in a time of such general
calamity, and, as it were, in the face of God's most dreadful judgments,
when the plague was at their very doors, and, it may be, in their very
houses, and they did not know but that the dead cart might stop at their
doors in a few hours, to carry them to their graves.
I could not perceive that my discourse made much impression upon them
all that while, till it happened that there came two men of the
neighborhood, hearing of the disturbance, and knowing my brother (for
they had been both dependents upon his family), and they came to my
assistance. These being, as I said, neighbors, presently knew three of
the women, and told me who they were, and where they lived, and it seems
they had given me a true account of themselves before.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
Reviews
Reviews
No reviews yet
Be the first to share your thoughts on this work.
Elsewhere in the archive
Join the Discussion
Join the discussion
Sign in to leave a comment or review.
Sign InorCreate an account