The Fortunate Mistress (Parts 1 and 2)

by Daniel Defoe

account. "Well," says she, "my poor mistress has had the loss,though she knows nothing of it. Oh dear! how happy it would have been!To be sure, sir, you would have helped her all you could." "Ay," sayshe, "Amy, so I would with all my heart; and even as I am, I would sendher some relief, if I thought she wanted it, only that then letting herknow I was alive might do her some prejudice, in case of her settling,or marrying anybody."

  "Alas," says Amy, "marry! Who will marry her in the poor condition sheis in?" And so their discourse ended for that time.

  All this was mere talk on both sides, and words of course; for onfarther inquiry, Amy found that he had no such offer of a lieutenant'scommission, or anything like it; and that he rambled in his discoursefrom one thing to another; but of that in its place.

  You may be sure that this discourse, as Amy at first related it, wasmoving to the last degree upon me, and I was once going to have sent himthe eight thousand livres to purchase the commission he had spoken of;but as I knew his character better than anybody, I was willing to searcha little farther into it, and so I set Amy to inquire of some other ofthe troop, to see what character he had, and whether there was anythingin the story of a lieutenant's commission or no.

  But Amy soon came to a better understanding of him, for she presentlylearnt that he had a most scoundrel character; that there was nothing ofweight in anything he said; but that he was, in short, a mere sharper,one that would stick at nothing to get money, and that there was nodepending on anything he said; and that more especially about thelieutenant's commission, she understood that there was nothing at all init, but they told her how he had often made use of that sham to borrowmoney, and move gentlemen to pity him and lend him money, in hopes toget him preferment; that he had reported that he had a wife and fivechildren in England, who he maintained out of his pay, and by theseshifts had run into debt in several places; and upon several complaintsfor such things, he had been threatened to be turned out of the _gensd'armes_; and that, in short, he was not to be believed in anything hesaid, or trusted on any account.

  Upon this information, Amy began to cool in her farther meddling withhim, and told me it was not safe for me to attempt doing him any good,unless I resolved to put him upon suspicions and inquiries which mightbe to my ruin, in the condition I was now in.

  I was soon confirmed in this part of his character, for the next timethat Amy came to talk with him, he discovered himself more effectually;for, while she had put him in hopes of procuring one to advance themoney for the lieutenant's commission for him upon easy conditions, heby degrees dropped the discourse, then pretended it was too late, andthat he could not get it, and then descended to ask poor Amy to lend himfive hundred pistoles.

  Amy pretended poverty, that her circumstances were but mean, and thatshe could not raise such a sum; and this she did to try him to theutmost. He descended to three hundred, then to one hundred, then tofifty, and then to a pistole, which she lent him, and he, neverintending to pay it, played out of her sight as much as he could. Andthus being satisfied that he was the same worthless thing he had everbeen, I threw off all thoughts of him; whereas, had he been a man of anysense and of any principle of honour, I had it in my thoughts to retireto England again, send for him over, and have lived honestly with him.But as a fool is the worst of husbands to do a woman good, so a fool isthe worst husband a woman can do good to. I would willingly have donehim good, but he was not qualified to receive it or make the best use ofit. Had I sent him ten thousand crowns instead of eight thousand livres,and sent it with express condition that he should immediately havebought himself the commission he talked of with part of the money, andhave sent some of it to relieve the necessities of his poor miserablewife at London, and to prevent his children to be kept by the parish, itwas evident he would have been still but a private trooper, and his wifeand children should still have starved at London, or been kept of merecharity, as, for aught he knew, they then were.

  Seeing, therefore, no remedy, I was obliged to withdraw my hand fromhim, that had been my first destroyer, and reserve the assistance that Iintended to have given him for another more desirable opportunity. Allthat I had now to do was to keep myself out of his sight, which was notvery difficult for me to do, considering in what station he lived.

  Amy and I had several consultations then upon the main question,namely, how to be sure never to chop upon him again by chance, and to besurprised into a discovery, which would have been a fatal discoveryindeed. Amy proposed that we should always take care to know where the_gens d'armes_ were quartered, and thereby effectually avoid them; andthis was one way.

  But this was not so as to be fully to my satisfaction; no ordinary wayof inquiring where the _gens d'armes_ were quartered was sufficient tome; but I found out a fellow who was completely qualified for the workof a spy (for France has plenty of such people). This man I employed tobe a constant and particular attendant upon his person and motions; andhe was especially employed and ordered to haunt him as a ghost, that heshould scarce let him be ever out of his sight. He performed this to anicety, and failed not to give me a perfect journal of all his motionsfrom day to day, and, whether for his pleasure or his business, wasalways at his heels.

  This was somewhat expensive, and such a fellow merited to be well paid,but he did his business so exquisitely punctual that this poor manscarce went out of the house without my knowing the way he went, thecompany he kept, when he went abroad, and when he stayed at home.

  By this extraordinary conduct I made myself safe, and so went out inpublic or stayed at home as I found he was or was not in a possibilityof being at Paris, at Versailles, or any place I had occasion to be at.This, though it was very chargeable, yet as I found it absolutelynecessary, so I took no thought about the expense of it, for I knew Icould not purchase my safety too dear.

  By this management I found an opportunity to see what a mostinsignificant, unthinking life the poor, indolent wretch, who, by hisunactive temper, had at first been my ruin, now lived; how he only rosein the morning to go to bed at night; that, saving the necessary motionof the troops, which he was obliged to attend, he was a mere motionlessanimal, of no consequence in the world; that he seemed to be one who,though he was indeed alive, had no manner of business in life but tostay to be called out of it. He neither kept any company, minded anysport, played at any game, or indeed did anything of moment; but, inshort, sauntered about like one that it was not two livres value whetherhe was dead or alive; that when he was gone, would leave no remembrancebehind him that ever he was here; that if ever he did anything in theworld to be talked of, it was only to get five beggars and starve hiswife. The journal of his life, which I had constantly sent me everyweek, was the least significant of anything of its kind that was everseen, as it had really nothing of earnest in it, so it would make nojest to relate it. It was not important enough so much as to make thereader merry withal, and for that reason I omit it.

  Yet this nothing-doing wretch was I obliged to watch and guard against,as against the only thing that was capable of doing me hurt in theworld. I was to shun him as we would shun a spectre, or even the devil,if he was actually in our way; and it cost me after the rate of ahundred and fifty livres a month, and very cheap too, to have thiscreature constantly kept in view. That is to say, my spy undertook neverto let him be out of his sight an hour, but so as that he could give anaccount of him, which was much the easier for to be done considering hisway of living; for he was sure that, for whole weeks together, he wouldbe ten hours of the day half asleep on a bench at the tavern-door wherehe quartered, or drunk within the house. Though this wicked life he ledsometimes moved me to pity him, and to wonder how so well-bred,gentlemanly a man as he once was could degenerate into such a uselessthing as he now appeared, yet at the same time it gave me mostcontemptible thoughts of him, and made me often say I was a warning forall the ladies of Europe against marrying of fools. A man of sense fallsin the world and gets up again, and a woman has some chance for herself;but with a fool, once fall, and ever undone;
once in the ditch, and diein the ditch; once poor, and sure to starve.

  But it is time to have done with him. Once I had nothing to hope for butto see him again; now my only felicity was, if possible, never to seehim, and, above all, to keep him from seeing me, which, as above, I tookeffectual care of.

  I was now returned to Paris. My little son of honour, as I called him,was left at ----, where my last country-seat then was, and I came toParis at the prince's request. Thither he came to me as soon as Iarrived, and told me he came to give me joy of my return, and to makehis acknowledgments for that I had given him a son. I thought, indeed,he had been going to give me a present, and so he did the next day, butin what he said then he only jested with me. He gave me his company allthe evening, supped with me about midnight, and did me the honour, as Ithen called it, to lodge me in his arms all the night, telling me, injest, that the best thanks for