Prey”! “A Combination of two Strategies”! “Terms borrow’d from the Playhouse”! Was it not enough that I was ruin’d, that my first, fine Belief in the Pow’r of Love had been betray’d? But must I also be held up to Ridicule in the Eyes of Lord Bellars’ London Mistress—no doubt a Woman of Fashion to whom my Ruin was a mere Toy to pass away an Afternoon, or a lewd Playlet, a sort of Afterpiece, to heat the Blood of Jaded Lovers?
O Belinda, ne’er was a Wench so wretched as myself! I thought to take my own Life (’twas worth nothing to me then) but could not, both for fear of bodily Torment and Torment of my Soul in the World to come! But how should I survive this Humiliation? I could not face Lord Bellars or my Step-Mother again. I could not sit at Table across from the Poet, Lady Bellars, Mary, Daniel, the villainous Lord Bellars himself, and all our other intended Guests, without showing my Distress. What could I do but flee?
Fortunately, I had the Guineas the Poet had press’d upon me, and I had, besides, some good Clothes and Jewels that might be pawn’d, a silver Snuff-Box, a gold Watch, and sev’ral gold Rings.
I ran back to my Chamber to gather all my Worldly Possessions (including my tentative first Verses) and to plan my Flight from Lymeworth.
I was consid’ring how I might escape to London, without falling Prey to Highwaymen and Robbers, when I recall’d the Custom of certain Famous Actresses in London of dressing up in Men’s Clothes to play “Breeches Parts,” and I form’d the Idea of stealing Daniel’s Riding Clothes and Riding Wig and making my Way to London en Homme. Fortunately, I was then, as now, an excellent Horsewoman, but whether I should be able to fetch my own Chestnut Arabian Stallion, Lustre, without incurring Suspicion from the Groom and Stable-Boys, I did not know, and whether I should be able to reach London unharm’d was also doubtful. But what other Choyce did I have? I dried my Tears and set about preparing for my Journey.
CHAPTER VIII
Containing the sundry Adventures of our Heroine in preparing her Escape, as well as many edifying Digressions upon Doweries, upon Love, upon the Beauties of the English Countryside, upon the Wisdom of Horses, upon the Necessity for Disguises, and, finally, upon the Preferability at all Times, of being a Man rather than a Woman.
D ANIEL SLEPT LIKE A Pig, or still worse, like an old Country Squire, wheezing, sputt’ring, and farting. For all his Pretensions to the Manners of a Man of Pleasure whilst awake, asleep ’twas clear he was more to be pitied than fear’d. From Time to Time, he stirr’d in his Sleep to mutter unintelligible Syllables. ’Twas not much Trouble to take what I wanted without awak’ning him—tho’ I did not fail to recall that mere Girls had been hang’d for less than I was stealing now, and that, after my Usage of him Yesterday Ev’ning, Daniel’s Revenge might be a terrible one.
The enormous Full-bottom’d Periwigs of my younger Years were just then fading from Fashion (tho’, i’faith, some older Folk still wore ’em) and Young Gentlemen of Fashion now wore smaller Wigs, especially for Riding. I snatch’d one of these, a fine black Riding Wig that must have cost a Pocketful of Shillings, and took as well a Pair of Jack-Boots, brown leather Riding Breeches, Stockings, a fine Silver-hiked Sword, a green Redingote, clean Linen, a Cravat, a black Beaver Hat, and a heavy scarlet Cloak against the Rain.
I was too full of Fear about awak’ning Daniel to wonder about the Fit of these Clothes or what sort of Figure I should cut as a Beau. E’en as I left his Chamber, Daniel heav’d and mutter’d, “Fanny, Fannikins, Fan …” and for a Moment I fear’d I was lost. But ’twas only a Dream; the scurvy Fellow would pollute me in Sleep e’en as he would awake.
I hasten’d to my Chamber to compose a Farewell Letter to Lady Bellars and to attire myself properly in these stolen Clothes before
O Belinda, ne’er was a Wench so wretched as myself! I thought to take my own Life (’twas worth nothing to me then) but could not, both for fear of bodily Torment and Torment of my Soul in the World to come! But how should I survive this Humiliation? I could not face Lord Bellars or my Step-Mother again. I could not sit at Table across from the Poet, Lady Bellars, Mary, Daniel, the villainous Lord Bellars himself, and all our other intended Guests, without showing my Distress. What could I do but flee?
Fortunately, I had the Guineas the Poet had press’d upon me, and I had, besides, some good Clothes and Jewels that might be pawn’d, a silver Snuff-Box, a gold Watch, and sev’ral gold Rings.
I ran back to my Chamber to gather all my Worldly Possessions (including my tentative first Verses) and to plan my Flight from Lymeworth.
I was consid’ring how I might escape to London, without falling Prey to Highwaymen and Robbers, when I recall’d the Custom of certain Famous Actresses in London of dressing up in Men’s Clothes to play “Breeches Parts,” and I form’d the Idea of stealing Daniel’s Riding Clothes and Riding Wig and making my Way to London en Homme. Fortunately, I was then, as now, an excellent Horsewoman, but whether I should be able to fetch my own Chestnut Arabian Stallion, Lustre, without incurring Suspicion from the Groom and Stable-Boys, I did not know, and whether I should be able to reach London unharm’d was also doubtful. But what other Choyce did I have? I dried my Tears and set about preparing for my Journey.
CHAPTER VIII
Containing the sundry Adventures of our Heroine in preparing her Escape, as well as many edifying Digressions upon Doweries, upon Love, upon the Beauties of the English Countryside, upon the Wisdom of Horses, upon the Necessity for Disguises, and, finally, upon the Preferability at all Times, of being a Man rather than a Woman.
D ANIEL SLEPT LIKE A Pig, or still worse, like an old Country Squire, wheezing, sputt’ring, and farting. For all his Pretensions to the Manners of a Man of Pleasure whilst awake, asleep ’twas clear he was more to be pitied than fear’d. From Time to Time, he stirr’d in his Sleep to mutter unintelligible Syllables. ’Twas not much Trouble to take what I wanted without awak’ning him—tho’ I did not fail to recall that mere Girls had been hang’d for less than I was stealing now, and that, after my Usage of him Yesterday Ev’ning, Daniel’s Revenge might be a terrible one.
The enormous Full-bottom’d Periwigs of my younger Years were just then fading from Fashion (tho’, i’faith, some older Folk still wore ’em) and Young Gentlemen of Fashion now wore smaller Wigs, especially for Riding. I snatch’d one of these, a fine black Riding Wig that must have cost a Pocketful of Shillings, and took as well a Pair of Jack-Boots, brown leather Riding Breeches, Stockings, a fine Silver-hiked Sword, a green Redingote, clean Linen, a Cravat, a black Beaver Hat, and a heavy scarlet Cloak against the Rain.
I was too full of Fear about awak’ning Daniel to wonder about the Fit of these Clothes or what sort of Figure I should cut as a Beau. E’en as I left his Chamber, Daniel heav’d and mutter’d, “Fanny, Fannikins, Fan …” and for a Moment I fear’d I was lost. But ’twas only a Dream; the scurvy Fellow would pollute me in Sleep e’en as he would awake.
I hasten’d to my Chamber to compose a Farewell Letter to Lady Bellars and to attire myself properly in these stolen Clothes before
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