A Maggot

by John Fowles

  Q. Another assignation was made?

  A. Yes.

  Q. And he gave you money?

  A. He threw some guineas on my bed, as he left.

  Q. Now, I desire to know this: in asking you of yourself, and paying you compliments, was he out of the normal custom of such libidinous encounters?

  A. No.

  Q. Was it not more usual for a gentleman to come, to take his pleasure of you, then away?

  A. There were some such; yet more, for pleasure of our company. I heard many say, Claiborne's had the best conversation in London. She would take none of us who could not speak as well for ourselves out of bed as in it.

  Q. You have known others speak and confide in you in this manner?

  A. In their different fashions. They might say to us what they durst not say to their wives, God forgive them.

  Q. Very well. He came again?

  A. He came.

  Q. And what passed?

  A. The same as before, he would have none of me. But now declared he would watch his servant do with me what he could not, tho' he knew it was difficult to encompass, and he feared I might refuse such an unnatural request. Yet he would pay me well, and gladly.

  Q. Did he not propose this at that first meeting?

  A. No. I am sure. For that second time he made me go to my window, that looked down upon the street, to see Dick that stood there opposite, and waited.

  Q. What said you?

  A. At first that I would not, he might buy me for himself, not for his man; that mistress Claiborne was strict to our uses, she would never allow such a thing. At which he appeared much set down, and disappointed of his hopes. On which we fell to talking, and he told me he was advised to it by a learned doctor, and other things, which I did truly believe to be only his excuses for what he asked. Yet I doubted not he was in some distress, and had pity for him, and would have him lie beside me; tho' he would not, and fell to pressing me again, and told me of Dick, how they were like to twins, even born upon the same day, whatever so different in their station and outward.

  Q. Was this not strange?

  A. Yea, yet I believed him more there than in this talk of doctors. And I will tell thee now, not half so strange as what I later learnt of them; which was that they were two men as far apart in most matters as any in this world, yet of one soul. What one lacked, the other had, as it is with man and woman, tho' both were men. As twin brothers, tho' they were none.

  Q. On that I shall ask more, in good time. In short, he won thee to his wish?

  A. Not then, another time, he came yet again. I will tell thee now what I said not to Jones. Whether thee believe me or not, I do not care, 'tis truth. Thee may'st take me for a notorious harlot, I will not deny it. So it was, may the Lord Jesus forgive me, and a great sinner, my soul harder than flint. Yet it was not dead, not quite dead, for my conscience told me I sinned and should not be forgiven. Most of my sisters in that house were blind, they knew not what they did; yet I was not in their case, I knew I was on the path to hell and with no excuse save my own obstinacy in sin, that is none. There is a badder case than they who sin for their own selfish pleasure, it is we who sin in hatred of the sin itself. Not because we would, but somehow must, as a slave must do his master's will, tho' he hates both it and him. I tell thee this because I was in that snare when first his Lordship came. I sinned the more brazenly because at heart I would sin no more. The more modest I would be, the more impudently I did. And I pray thee remember we women are brought up to do men's will in this world. I know men will say it is Eve who tempts them into the stews. But 'tis Adam who keeps them there.

  Q. And Adam also who keeps most of'em pure. Be done with this prating.

  A. I take heart thee won't look me in my eyes, 'tis sign thee knows I speak truth. It had become strong upon me that I must change my life, now saw I his Lordship was my prison's key. For when he came out with his scheme to take me away to the West where I was born, I felt a great flutter come to flee where I was.

  Q. You say, whatever might befall you meant not to return to Claiborne's?

  A. I do.

  Q. And would mend your ways?

  A. I will tell thee what I fain would not. To my everlasting shame I had use, to please the more wicked, to play the virtuous maid, that they might take the more pleasure in their conquests. And for that I was given a Holy Bible, that I might pretend the better; and that these men I served might show they believed not in God, and did mock His Word. For at the end I would hold it as if to forbid them; which they must tear aside to gain their will. What little conscience that still sprang in me knew I did do in that a most wicked abomination, tho' l could not stand against Claiborne, her willing that I acted thus. Yet I began then, when I was alone, to learn the letter of the Book that I so misused.

  Q. What mean you by that?

  A. Its letter, that I might read it; which did come the more easy, that of some parts I had memory, that once I had heard read or spoken. God pardon me, for years 'twas not so. And Jesus's mercy was even then kind, for the more I read, the more the light came upon me: that what I did was great sin, and I crucified Him again in what I did. Still could I not bring myself to do what in my growing harlotry I came the more to see I must. I stayed too fond of worldly things; and would ever put away until the morrow. And thee must know that this pressed ever more upon me, like a great boil or sore place within my conscience, that must be lanced, or I should die of

  Q. Did you tell his Lordship of this great boil upon thy ever-open thighs?

  A. No.

  Q. Very well. Enough of thy tender soul. What pretexts advanced he for this journey?

  A. First, that which he had already proposed, concerning Dick, and the greater commodity to it if we were removed from the bagnio. Then that he wished to take new waters supposed good for his condition, and so try two remedies for it at the

  same time.

  Q. Did he name these waters?

  A. No. Then told that his family and father thought the worst of him for having so far refused to marry, and spied upon him, and he greatly feared we should be followed if we did not hit upon some disguise for the journey. Which he said he had thought upon and found an answer to.

  Q. To wit?

  A. A scheme of a false elopement, where I should play lady's maid brought to serve his false intended.

  Q. This was not told Claiborne?

  A. No, for her 'twas said that his Lordship was upon a folly in Oxfordshire, to which he should bring me. All who attended were to bring one such as I.

  Q. For which he fee'd her handsomely, did he not? And to thee did he promise more?

  A. He did promise I should not regret the deceiving, that I took to mean I should not be the poorer for it. Heaven knows I was not, I mistook then the fee he intended.

  Q. You thought he spake of money?

  A. Yes.

  Q. Of what did he speak in truth?

  A. What I now am.

  Q. Am I to understand this - that you are now what you are because of his Lordship?

  A. I will tell.

  Q. Very well. First let us be clear - he made no promise of a fixed reward for your pains?

  A. No.

  Q. Did you not press for such?

  A. No, for by him I hoped to escape, that was more than reward enough, and I did not care for the wages of sin.

  Q. Were you not suspicious of so much deception?

  A. I might have been, had I thought hard upon it. All I did see then was my own advantage. And e'en the same later, despite I must do as I was bid, and was mistreated, as I thought: that it was the price I must pay, to change my condition, and purge my fouled soul.

  Q. Had you any suspicion, before you came to Amesbury, that his Lordship deceived you also as to the real purpose of this journey?

  A. No, not none.

  Q. Was he pressing that you should resolve yourself to this western journey? In all this did he rather solicit, or did he dragoon?

  A. He pressed, but
did not force. I told him the time of my courses was near. He accepted it must pass first, as happened.

  Q. You say, the time of your going depended no more than upon the season of your menison?

  A. Yes.

  Q. It was not so appointed, that you should be in Devon on the first of May?

  A. Not that I know.

  Q. Now this, mistress. Is it not most often the case with such as you, that tops the licentious town in her trade, that her hope lies in leaving the stews and becoming kept woman of some nobleman, who may establish her for his use alone?

  A. It was proposed me. I would have none of it.

  Q. Why?

  A. Such we called the militia, not trained soldiers like us. We might never desert, Claiborne would never allow.

  Q. Were none that proposed this to you great enough to protect?

  A. Thee were never in that world of Antichrist. She said she should find us in Hell, should we run off; and so she would, the devil.

  Q. But she let you go with his Lordship?

  A. Gold will melt iron.

  Q. He offered more than she might refuse?

  A. I doubt not more than she told me.

  Q. What was that?

  A Two hundred guineas.

  Q. Had you in your house, to Claiborne or some fellow-whore, made mention whatsoever of his Lordship's fault?

  A. No, not a word.

  Q. And where were you taken, when first you left the stews?

  A. To St Giles i' the Fields, to Monmouth Street, that I might buy clothes at the second-hand, suited to a country maid. Which I did.

  Q. His Lordship fetched you to this?

  A. No, Dick his servant, with a closed carriage, as was arranged. It bore no arms, 'twas hired. Then out of the town to Chiswick, where his Lordship waited, within a cottage.

  Q. At what time of day was this?

  A. 'Twas all after dinner. Past six of the clock, when we came.

  Q. What made you of Dick, now you had met?

  A. Nothing. He did not ride with me, but with the coachman.

  Q. How were you welcomed at Chiswick?

  A. His Lordship seemed pleased I was come. A supper was prepared.

  Q. Was any other person there?

  A. An old woman, who served us. She spake not, I think left when we were served. I did not see her again, in the morning when we set forth.

  Q. And what else passed, that evening?

  A. What was agreed, with Dick.

  Q. His Lordship was present?

  A. Yes.

  Q. Throughout all?

  A. Yes.

  Q. Where was this?

  A. In a chamber above.

  Q. Did it have the hoped-for effect upon him?

  A. I know not.

  Q. Did he not speak?

  A. No. Not a word. And left us so soon it was done.

  Q. He was not aroused by it?

  A. I have told thee. I do not know.

  Q. Saw you no sign?

  A. No.

  Q. Had you done such an act before spectators before?

  A. On occasion, may I be forgiven. Q. What then?

  A. 'Tis not thy business.

  Q. I insist. Was there no lechery in his Lordship's conduct on this occasion?

  A. No.

  Q. Very well. And Dick?

  A. What of Dick?

  Q. Come, Mistress Lee. You are no innocent in this. Did he play his part sufficient well? Why answer you not?

  A. He played his part.

  Q. Sufficient well?

  A. I doubt he had lain with woman before.

  Q. Did not his Lordship complain on a later occasion - that you had failed to rein him back?

  A. Yes.

  Q. What answered you?

  A. That he was green as a radish. No sooner in than out, if thee'd hear more bagnio wit.

  Q. Yet later you chose to lie with him for pleasure, was it not so?

  A. I felt pity of him.

  Q. Those who were with you say more.

  A. They may say what they list. It shames me not that I was kind to him, who suffered so by lack of natural parts. Given for my sins I was harlot still.

  Q. He knew what you were?

  A. He did not treat me so.

  Q. Then how?

  A. Why, not as a body bought for his lust, as I was used to feel, far more as one he loved, his sweetheart.

  Q. How knew you this, since he could neither speak nor hear?

  A. There are more ways of speaking than with words. He would not brook me speaking with Jones, he would watch me with that in his eyes no woman mistakes, he would do all in his power to serve me.

  Q. And served you also in his Lordship's presence, is it not so? Saw you no resentment there? Do not true sweethearts abhor such a base value put upon the act of love?

  A. I say he was not as other men, more one that knew so little of this world he might have lived in the moon, and must take his Lordship as his guide in all down here below. If his Lordship bade him, he must follow. I told thee, there was such closeness between them they needed no words, they were as one person, tho' two in body. I might almost believe his Lordship did enjoy me, though he would not bear my touch, yet through Dick's enjoying.

  Q. Now, had you warning that morning you set forth from Chiswick that you had other companions on your journey?

  A. His Lordship told me that evening previous we should meet them, and they would come with us, Mr Brown and his man. And told me who he should pretend to be, a City merchant, tho' in truth he was the doctor he had spoke of; yet I must pretend I did not know such a thing, and take him for what he seemed. Which I did, yet so it happened I had seen him before, two months before in a playhouse where I was, though I could not mind me his name, notwithstanding his person and voice well enough. And that day as we rode Jones came up, and I knew by some gross hints he made that he likewise suspected I was not what I seemed, and I was much afraid. And when next I had opportunity, I told his Lordship I feared I was recognized.

  Q. What answered he?

  A. That I was to keep mum, and brave it out.

  Q. Seemed he set back, alarmed, I know not?

  A. No, not one whit. And he said that none of us were what we seemed. That I was to tell him if Jones was importunate I again.

  Q. Did you not likewise tell him you knew Mr Brown for what he really was?

  A. No, for I must tell thee every step we took from London still lightened my heart. 'Twas to me as if I left the City of the Plains and Bristol was my Sion. And I thought, if his Lordship deceives me, I may the easier deceive him, when my time comes, and so it is better now to keep my counsel.

  Q. Very well. Now let us come to Basingstoke. His Lordship demanded what you had done before?

  A. Yes.

  Q. And where was it done?

  A. Within his chamber.

  Q. He watched?

  A. He found it too quick done, and he blamed me, after.

  Q. Was Dick present, when this was spoken?

  A. No, he was sent away.

  Q. His Lordship was angry?

  A. More as one who thought himself cheated.

  Q. He was disdainful of your supposed skills?

  A. Like one a practised rake, for all he could not be.

  Q. Did you remonstrate?

  A. No, beyond what I said. That Dick was too green to be managed.

  Q. What said his Lordship to that?

  A. That I was his now, and I should find he was worse than Claiborne if he did not get his money's worth.

  Q. You are certain - he spake thus?

  A. Certain.

  Q. What answered you?

  A. Why, nothing, I looked meek. Yet I did not feel it, and felt him much changed, and not just, for he had seen how Dick came to it, like a poor beast with only one thought, and I could not stop him. I tell thee as I then thought. I know now he would be my good friend, but I saw it not.

  Q How your good friend?

  A, I will tell in its place. />
  Q. I will know now.

  A. Not by my mouth. 'Tis like the Book. We say, One threshing will not yield its grain. Thee must wait till thee's heard all, and as it was set down.

  Q. Came Dick to you privily in the night there?

  A. Yes.

  Q. And you allowed it?

  A. Yes.

  Q. Although he was no better than a poor beast?

  A. Because he was. And had enough wit to know he had no right to ask. Shall I tell thee how many lords and dukes I have served, master Ayscough? Why, even a royal prince beside. I'll tell thee not one of them who came to my bed, yet knelt there as he did, like a child with his head pressed down on the coverlet, and waited to know my will, not force his own upon me. Thee'll say for the first I was bought, I had no will, no liberty, no harlot has.

  Q. I'll say thou art a most damned doctoress.

  A. No, I am not. Thee hast thy alphabet, and I mine, that is all. And I must speak mine. I tell thee why I took pity for Dick. 'Twas neither love nor lechery.

  Q. You lay together all that night?

  A. Till we slept. And when I woke, he was gone.

  Q. And every night the same?

  A. Not the next. After, yes.

  Q. I would hear of that next night, at Amesbury. Had you warning of what would take place there?

  A. Not until we were arrived, no, more late still, we had supped, it was eight or more of the clock, and I waited in my chamber, when Dick came to fetch me to his Lordship's, and I must bring my riding-cloak. Which did alarm me, I could not think why that should be. And there his Lordship said we must ride out later, in great secret, which alarmed me the more, for when I asked why, he would not say, and told me sharp I was hired to do as he commanded, as the night before.