Gracelove by this Time had entertain’d the sincerest Affections and noblest Passion that Man can be capable of, for Philadelphia; of which he had made her sensible, who had at that Time comply’d with his honourable Demands, had she not entreated him to expect a kind Turn of Providence, which might, (happily) e’re long, put her in Possession of her Right; without which, she told him, she could not consent to marry him, who had so plentiful a Fortune, and she nothing but her Person and Innocence. How, Madam! (cry’d he) have you no Love in Store for me! Yes, Sir, (return’d she) as much as you can wish I have in Store for you, and so I beg it may be kept ’till a better Opportunity. Well, Madam, (said he) I must leave you for some Months, perhaps for a whole Year; I have receiv’d Letters of Advice that urge the Necessity of my going to Turkey; I have not a Week’s Time to endeavour so dreaded a Separation as I must suffer; therefore, thou beautiful, thou dear, thou virtuous Creature, let me begin now! Here, thou tenderest Part of my Soul! (continu’d he, giving her a rich Diamond Ring) wear this ’till my Return! I hope the Sight of it may sometimes re-call the dying Memory of Gracelove to your better-busy’d Thoughts. Ah, Gracelove! (said she) nothing can so well, nothing I am sure can better employ my Thoughts, than thy dear self: Heaven only excepted. They enlarg’d a great deal more on this Subject at that Time; but the Night before his Departure was entirely spent in Sighs, Vows, and Tears, on both Sides. In the Morning, after he had again entreated his Cousin’s, and the Lady’s, and her Daughter’s Care and Kindness to Philadelphia, the remaining and best Part of his Soul, with one hearty Kiss, accompany’d with Tears, he took a long Farewel of his dear Mistress, who pursu’d him with her Eyes, ’till they could give her no farther Intelligence of him; and they help’d her Kindness to him, and eas’d her Grief for his Absence in weeping for above a Week together, when in private. He never omitted writing to her and his Cousin by every Opportunity, for near nine Months, as he touch’d at any Port; but afterwards they could not hear from him for above half a Year; when, by Accident, the Counsellor met a Gentleman of Gracelove’s Acquaintance at a Coffee-House, who gave him an Account, that the Ship and he were both cast away, near five Months since; that most if not all of the Ship’s Company perish’d; of which, ’twas fear’d, Gracelove was one, having never since been heard of. That his Loss in that Ship amounted to above twelve thousand Pounds: With this dreadful and amazing News the good old Gentleman returns Home, afflicts his poor sorrowful Lady and Daughter, and almost kills unhappy Philadelphia; who the next Day, by mere Chance, and from a Stranger, who came on Business to the Counsellor, heard, that one Sir William Wilding, an extravagant, mad, young Spark of such a County, who lately went by the borrow’d Name and Title of ’Squire Sportman, had mortgag’d all his Estate, which was near four thousand a Year, and carry’d the Money over with him into France on Saturday last. This, added to the former News, put so great a Check on her Spirits, that she immediately dropp’d down in a Swoon; whence she only recover’d, to fall into what was of a much more dangerous Consequence, a violent Feaver, which held her for near six Weeks, e’re she could get Strength enough to go down Stairs: In all which Time, Madam Fairlaw and Eugenia, her Daughter, attended her as carefully and constantly, as if they had been her own Mother and Sister: The good old Counsellor still commending and encouraging their Care. The Roses and Lillies at last took their Places again; but the Clouds of her Sorrow were still but too visible. Two Years more past, without one Word of Advice from Gracelove or any Account of him from any one else; insomuch, that they all concluded he was certainly dead: And, ’twas true, indeed, that his Ship and he were cast away, much about that Time that the Gentleman gave Fairlaw a Relation: That ’twas certain he had lost above 12000l. and had like to have lost his Life; but being very expert in Swimming, he got to Shoar upon the Coast of Barbary, the Wreck happening not to be above three Leagues thence; he was in almost as bad a Condition as if he had been drown’d, for here he was made a Prisoner to one of the Natives; in which miserable Circumstance he lanquish’d for above six Years, for Want of a Ransom; which he had often endeavour’d to raise by Letters, that he sent hither to his Friends (in England;) amongst which Counsellor Fairlaw was one of his most particular and assur’d. But however Providence or Accident, if you please, order’d it, not a Line came to the Hands of any of his Friends; so that had not Heaven had yet a future Blessing in Store for him, he had certainly have better perish’d in the Sea, than to have fall’n into the Power of a People less merciful than Seas, Winds, or hungry wild Beasts in Pursuit of their Prey. But this could not be learn’d (it seems) from any Man but himself, upon his Return, after his Redemption.
Two Years more pass’d on; towards the latter of which the old Lady Fairlaw took her Bed, desperately sick, insomuch that she was given over by all her Physicians; she continu’d in great Misery for near two Months; in all which Time Philadelphia was constantly with her all the Day, or all the Night; much about that Time she dy’d; and, dying, told her Husband, that she had observ’d he had a particular Esteem or Kindness for Philadelphia; which was now a great Satisfaction to her; since she was assur’d, that if he marry’d her, she would prove an excellent Nurse to him, and prolong his Life by some Years. As for Eugenia, (added she) you need not be concern’d; I’m sure she will consent to any Thing that you shall propose, having already so plentifully provided for her. The good old Gentleman answer’d, that he would fulfil her Will as far as lay in his Power: And not long after, she departed this Life. Her Burial was very handsome and honourable. Half a Year was now expir’d since her Interment, when the old Counsellor began to plead his own Cause to young Philadelphia, reminding her that now the Death of Gracelove was out of Question; and that therefore she was as much at her Liberty to make her own Choice of an Husband as he was of a Wife; not forgetting, at the same Time, to let her know, that his Widow, (whoever had the good Fortune to be so) would be worth above thirty thousand Pounds in ready Money, besides a thousand a Year. But, above all, he urg’d his dying Lady’s last Advice to him, that he would marry her; and hop’d she would see the Will of the Dead satisfy’d. The young Lady being broken in Sorrows, and having mortify’d all her Appetites to the Enjoyments of this World, and not knowing where to meet with so fair an Overture, tho’ at first, in Modesty, she seem’d to refuse it as too great an Honour, yet yielded to less than a Quarter of an Hour’s Courtship. And the next Sunday marry’d they were, with the Consent, and to the perfect Satisfaction of, his Daughter, Madam Eugenia; who lov’d Philadelphia sincerely. They kept their Wedding very nobly for a Month, at their own House in Great Lincolns-Inn-Fields; but the Memory of the old Lady was still so fresh with the young Lady Fairlaw, that she prevail’d with him to remove to another, more convenient as she fancy’d, in Covent-Garden. They had dwelt there not much more than four Months, e’re the good old Gentleman fell sick and dy’d. Whether it were the Change of an old House for a new, or an old Wife for a young, is yet uncertain, tho’ his Physicians said, and are still of Opinion, that, doubtless, it was the last. ’Tis past all Doubt, that she did really mourn for and lament his Death; for she lov’d him perfectly, and pay’d him all the dutiful respect of a virtuous Wife, while she liv’d within that State with him; which he rewarded as I have said before. His Funeral was very sumptuous and honourable indeed! and as soon as it was over, Eugenia desir’d her young beautiful Mother-in-Law to retreat a little with her into the Country, to a pleasant House she had, not twenty Miles distant from Town; urging, That she could by no Means enjoy her self under that Roof, where her dear Father dy’d. The obliging Step-mother, who might more properly have been call’d her Sister, being exactly of the same Age with her, readily comply’d, and she pass’d away all that Summer with Eugenia, at their Country-Seat, and most Part of the Winter too; for Eugenia could by no Means be prevail’d on to lie one Night in her Mother’s House; ’twas with some Reluctancy that she consented to dine there sometimes. At length the whole Year of Philadelphia’s Widowhood was expir’d; during which, you can’t but imagine that she was solicited and address’d to by as many Lovers, or pretended Lovers, as our dear King Charles, whom God grant long to reign, was lately by the Presbyterians, Independants, Anabaptists, and all those canting whiggish Brethren! But she had never lik’d any Man so well as to make him her Husband, by Inclination, unless it was Gracelove, devour’d by the greedy Inhabitants of the Sea.
Whilst her Fortune began to mend thus, her Brother’s grew worse; but that was indeed the Effect of his Extravagancy: In less than two Years Time, he had spent eight thousand Pounds in France, whence he return’d to England, and pursuing his old profuse Manner of Living, contracted above 100l. Debts here, in less than four Months Time; which not being able to satisfy, he was arrested, and thrown into a Goal, whence he remov’d himself into the King’s Bench, on that very Day that old Fairlaw dy’d. There, at first, for about a Month, he was entertain’d like a Gentleman; but finding no Money coming, nor having a Prospect of any, the Marshal and his Instruments turn’d him to the Common Side, where he learnt the Art of Peg-making, a Mystery to which he had been a Stranger all his Life long ’till then. ’Twas then he wish’d he might see his Sister, hoping that she was in a Condition to relieve him; which he was apt to believe, from the Discourse he had with Gracelove some Years past. Often he wish’d to see her, but in vain; however, the next Easter after the old Counsellor’s Death, Philadelphia, according to his Custom, sent her Steward to relieve all the poor Prisoners about Town; among the rest he visited those in the common Side of the King’s Bench, where he heard ’em call Sir William Wilding to partake of his Lady’s Charity. The poor Prodigal was then feeding on the Relief of the Basket, not being yet able to get his Bread at his new Trade: To him the Steward gave a Crown, whereas the other had but Half a Crown apiece. Then he enquir’d of some of the unhappy Gentlemen, Sir William’s Fellow-Collegians, of what Country Sir William was? How long he had been there? And how much his Debts were? All of which he receiv’d a satisfactory Account. Upon his Return to his Lady, he repeated the dismal News of her Brother’s Misfortunes to her; who immediately dispatch’d him back again to the Prison, with Orders to give him twenty Shillings more at present, and to get him remov’d to the Master’s Side, into a convenient Chamber, for the Rent of which the Steward engag’d to pay; and promis’d him, as she had commanded, twenty Shillings a Week, as long as he stay’d there, on Condition that he would give the Names of all his Creditors, and of all those to whom he had engag’d any Part of his Estate; which the poor Gentleman did most readily and faithfully: After which, the Steward enquir’d for a Taylor, who came and took Measure of Philadelphia’s unkind Brother, and was order’d to provide him Linnen, a Hat, Shoes, Stockings, and all such Necessaries, not so much as omitting a Sword: With all which he acquainted his Lady at his Return; who was very much griev’d at her Brother’s unhappy Circumstances, and at the same Time extremely well pleas’d to find her self in a Condition to relieve him. The Steward went constantly once a Week to pay him his Money; and Sir William was continually very curious to know to whom he was oblig’d for so many and great Favours; But he was answer’d, That they came from a Lady who desir’d to have her Name conceal’d. In less than a Year, Philadelphia had paid 25000l. and taken off the Mortgages on 2500l. per Annum of her Brother’s Estate; and coming to Town from Eugenia’s Country-House one Day, to make the last Payment of two thousand Pounds, looking out of her Coach on the Road, near Dartford, she saw a Traveller on Foot, who seem’d to be tir’d with his Journey, whose Face, she thought, she had formerly known: This Thought invited her to look on him so long, that she, at last, perswaded her self it was Gracelove, or his Ghost: For, to say Truth, he was very pale and thin, his Complexion swarthy, and his Cloaths (perhaps) as rotten as if he had been bury’d in ’em. However, unpleasant as it was, she could not forbear gazing after this miserable Spectacle; and the more she beheld it, the more she was confirmed it was Gracelove, or something that had usurp’d his Figure. In short, she could not rest ’till she call’d to one of her Servants, who rode by the Coach, whom she strictly charg’d to go to that poor Traveller, and mount him on his Horse, ’till they came to Dartford; where she order’d him to take him to the same Inn where she baited, and refresh him with any Thing that he would eat or drink; and after that, to hire a Horse for him, to come to Town with them: That then he should be brought Home to her own House, and be carefully look’d after, ’till farther Orders from her. All which was most duly and punctually perform’d.
The next Morning early she sent for the Steward, whom she order’d to take the Stranger to a Sale-shop, and fit him with a Suit of good Cloaths, to buy him Shirts, and other Linnen, and all Necessaries, as he had provided for her Brother; and gave him Charge to use him as her particular Friend, during his Stay there, bidding him, withal, learn his Name and Circumstances, if possible, and to supply him with Money for his Pocket Expences: All which he most faithfully and discreetly perform’d, and brought his Lady an Account of his Sufferings by Sea, and Slavery among the Turks, as I have before related; adding, that his Name was Gracelove. This was the greatest Happiness, certainly, that ever yet the dear beautiful Creature was sensible of. On t’other Side, Gracelove could not but admire and praise his good Fortune, that had so miraculously and bountifully reliev’d him; and one Day having some private Discourse with the Steward, he could not forbear expressing the Sense he had of it; declaring, That he could not have expected such kind Treatment from any Body breathing, but from his Cousin, Counsellor Fairlaw, his Lady, or another young Lady, whom he plac’d and left with his Cousins. Counsellor Fairlaw! (cry’d the Steward) why, Sir, my Lady is the old Counsellor’s Widow; she is very beautiful and young too. What was her Name, Sir, before she marry’d the Counsellor? (ask’d Gracelove) That I know not, (reply’d t’other) for the old Steward dy’d presently after the old Lady, which is not a Year and a Half since; in whose Place I succeed; and I have never been so curious or inquisitive, as to pry into former Passages of the Family. Do you know, Sir, (said Gracelove) whereabouts in Town they liv’d before? Yes, Sir, (return’d the Steward, who was taught how to answer) in Great Lincolns-Inn-Fields, I think, Alas! (cry’d Gracelove) ’twas the same Gentleman to whom I design’d to apply my self when I came to England. You need not despair now, Sir, (said t’other) I dare say my Lady will supply your Wants. O wonderful Goodness of a Stranger! (cry’d Gracelove) uncommon and rare amongst Relations and Friends! How have I, or how can I ever merit this? Upon the End of their Conference, the Steward went to Philadelphia, and repeated it almost verbatim to her; who order’d Gracelove should be taken Measure of by the best Taylor in Covent-Garden; that he should have three of the most modish rich Suits made, that might become a private Gentleman of a Thousand Pounds a Year, and Hats, Perukes, Linnen, Swords, and all Things suitable to ’em, all to be got ready in less than a Month; in which Time, she took all the Opportunity she could either find or make to see him, and not to be seen by him: She oblig’d her Steward to invite him to a Play, whither she follow’d ’em, and sate next to Gracelove, and talk’d with him; but all the while masq’d. In this Month’s Time she was daily pester’d with the Visits of her Addressors; several there were of ’em; but the chief were only a Lord of a very small Estate, tho’ of a pretty great Age; a young blustering Knight, who had a Place of 500l. a Year at Court; and a County Gentleman, of a very plentiful Estate, a Widower, and of a middle Age. These three only of her Lovers she invited to Dinner, on the first Day of the next Month: In the mean while she sent a rich Suit, and Equipage proportionable, to her Brother, with an Invitation to dine with her on the same Day. Then she writ to Eugenia to come and stay in Town, if not in the same House with her, for two or three Days before; which her affectionate Daughter obey’d; to whom Philadelphia related all her Brother’s past Extravagancies and what she had done for him in redeeming most Part of his Estate; begging of her, that if she could fancy his Person, she would take him into her Mercy and marry him. Being assur’d, that such a virtuous Wife as she would prove, must necessarily reclaim him, if yet he were not perfectly convinc’d of his Follies; which, she doubted not, his late long Sufferings had done. Eugenia return’d, That she would wholly be directed and advis’d by her in all Things; and that certainly she could not but like the Brother, since she lov’d the Sister so perfectly and truly.
The Day came, and just at Twelve, Gracelove, meeting the Steward on the Stairs coming from his Lady, Gracelove then told him, that he believ’d he might take the Opportunity of that Afternoon to go over to Putney, and take a Game or two at Bowls. The Steward return’d, Very well, Sir, I shall let my Lady know it, if she enquires for you. Philadelphia, who overheard what they said, call’d the Steward in Haste, and bid him call Gracelove back, and tell him, she expected his Company at her Table to Day, and that she desir’d he would appear like himself. The Steward soon overtook him at the Door, just going out as Eugenia came in, who look’d back on Gracelove: The poor Gentleman was strangely surpriz’d at the Sight of her, as she was at his; but the Steward’s Message did more amaze and confound him. He went directly to his Chamber, to dress himself in one of those rich Suits lately made for him; but, the Distraction he was in, made him mistake his Coat for his Wastcoat, and put the Coat on first; but, recalling his straggling Thoughts, he made Shift to get ready time enough to make his Appearance without a second Summons. Philadelphia was as pleasant at Dinner, as ever she had been all her Life; she look’d very obligingly on all the Sparks, and drank to every one of ’em particularly, beginning to the Lord – and ending to the Stranger, who durst hardly lift up his Eyes a second Time to her’s, to confirm him that he knew her. Her Brother was so confounded, that he bow’d and continu’d his Head down ’till she had done drinking, not daring to encounter her Eyes, that would then have reproach’d him with his Villany to her.
After Dinner the Cloth was taken away; She began thus to her Lovers: My Lord! Sir Thomas! and Mr. Fat-acres! I doubt not, that it will be of some Satisfaction to you, to know whom I have made Choice for my next Husband; which now I am resolv’d no longer to defer.
The Person to whom I shall next drink, must be the Man who shall ever command me and my Fortune, were it ten times greater than it is; which I wish only for his Sake, since he deserves much more. – Here, (said she to one that waited) put Wine into two Glasses: Then she took the Diamond Ring from her Finger, and put it into one of ’em. My dear Gracelove, (cry’d she) I drank to thee; and send thee back thy own Ring, with Philadelphia’s Heart. He startl’d, blush’d, and looked wildly; whilst all the Company stared on him. Nay, pledge me, (persu’d she) and return me the Ring: for it shall make us both one the next Morning. He bow’d, kiss’d, and return’d it, after he had taken off his Wine. The defeated Lovers knew not how to resent it? The Lord and Knight were for going, but the Country Gentleman oppos’d it, and told ’em, ’twas the greatest Argument of Folly, to be disturb’d at the Caprice of a Woman’s Humour. They sate down again therefore, and she invited ’em to her Wedding on the Morrow.
And now, Brother, (said she) I have not quite forgotten you, tho’ you have not been pleas’d to take Notice of me: I have a Dish in Reserve for you, which will be more grateful to your Fancy than all you have tasted to Day. Here! (cry’d she to the Steward) Mr. Rightman, do you serve up that Dish your self. Rightman then set a cover’d Dish on the Table. What! more Tricks yet? (cry’d my Lord and Sir Thomas) Come, Sir William! (said his Sister) uncover it! he did so; and cry’d out, O matchless Goodness of a virtuous Sister! here are the Mortgages of the best Part of my Estate! O! what a Villain! what a Monster have I been! no more, dear Brother; (said she, with Tears in her Eyes) I have yet a greater Happiness in Store for you: This Lady, this beautiful virtuous Lady, with twenty thousand Pounds, will make you happy in her Love. Saying this, she join’d their Hands; Sir William eagerly kiss’d Eugenia’s, who blush’d, and said, Thus, Madam, I hope to shew how much I love and honour you. My Cousin Eugenia! (cry’d Gracelove!) The same, my dear lost dead Cousin Gracelove! (reply’d she) O! (said he in a Transport) my present Joys are greater than all my past Miseries! my Mistress and my Friend are found, and still are mine. Nay, (faith, said my Lord) this is pleasant enough to me, tho’ I have been defeated of the Enjoyment of the Lady. The whole Company in general went away very well that Night, who return’d the next Morning, and saw the two happy Pair firmly united.
FINIS
Notes: Critical and Explanatory:
The Unfortunate Happy Lady
p. 43 Ros Solis. A potent and well-liked tipple.
We abandon all ale
And beer that is stale
Rosa-solis and damnable hum,
But we will rack
In the praise of sack
’Gainst Omne quod exit in um.
– Witts Recreation (1654).
The Accomplished Female Instructor gives the following recipe: ‘Rossa Solis; Take of clean spirits, not too strong, two quarts and a quart of spring-water; let them seethe gently over a soft fire till about a pint is evaporated; then put in four spoonfuls of orange-flower-water, and as much of very good cinnamon-water; crush 3 eggs in pieces, and throw them in shell and all; stir it well, and when it boiles up a little take it off.’ This drink was so great a favourite with Louis XIV that a particular sort was named Rossolis du Roi.
p. 51 The Cheats, Mother, the Cheats. John Wilson’s excellent comedy, The Cheats, which was written and produced in 1662, attained great popularity. It ran into four editions (‘imprimatur, 5 November, 1663’); 4to, 1664; 1671; 1684; 1693. Caustically satirizing the Puritans, it became a stock piece, and was acted as late as May, 1721, when Griffin, Harper, Diggs, and Mrs. Gifford sustained the parts which had been created by Lacy, Mohun, Hart, and Mrs. Corey.