“Her want of respect increased, as I had not spirit to assert it. My
work was now rather imposed than offered, and I became a drudge for the
bread I eat: but my dependence and servility grew in proportion, and I
was now in a situation which could not make any extraordinary exertions
to disengage itself from either—I found myself with child.
“At last the wretch, who had thus trained me to destruction, hinted the
purpose for which those means had been used. I discovered her to be an
artful procuress for the pleasures of those who are men of decency to the
world in the midst of debauchery.
“I roused every spark of courage within me at the horrid proposal. She
treated my passion at first somewhat mildly, but when I continued to
exert it she resented it with insult, and told me plainly that if I did
not soon comply with her desires I should pay her every farthing I owed,
or rot in a jail for life. I trembled at the thought; still, however, I
resisted her importunities, and she put her threats in execution. I was
conveyed to prison, weak from my condition, weaker from that struggle of
grief and misery which for some time I had suffered. A miscarriage was
the consequence.
“Amidst all the horrors of such a state, surrounded with wretches totally
callous, lost alike to humanity and to shame, think, Mr. Harley, think
what I endured; nor wonder that I at last yielded to the solicitations of
that miscreant I had seen at her house, and sunk to the prostitution
which he tempted. But that was happiness compared to what I have
suffered since. He soon abandoned me to the common use of the town, and
I was cast among those miserable beings in whose society I have since
remained.
“Oh! did the daughters of virtue know our sufferings; did they see our
hearts torn with anguish amidst the affectation of gaiety which our faces
are obliged to assume! our bodies tortured by disease, our minds with
that consciousness which they cannot lose! Did they know, did they think
of this, Mr. Harley! Their censures are just, but their pity perhaps
might spare the wretches whom their justice should condemn.
“Last night, but for an exertion of benevolence which the infection of
our infamy prevents even in the humane, had I been thrust out from this
miserable place which misfortune has yet left me; exposed to the brutal
insults of drunkenness, or dragged by that justice which I could not
bribe, to the punishment which may correct, but, alas! can never amend
the abandoned objects of its terrors. From that, Mr. Harley, your
goodness has relieved me.”
He beckoned with his hand: he would have stopped the mention of his
favours; but he could not speak, had it been to beg a diadem.
She saw his tears; her fortitude began to fail at the sight, when the
voice of some stranger on the stairs awakened her attention. She
listened for a moment, then starting up, exclaimed, “Merciful God! my
father’s voice!”
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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