# The Adventures of David Simple (1904)/Chapter 5

CHAPTER V
in which is contained a most curious dialogue between a young woman and her confidante
Just as Mr. David and his mistress were on the point of being married, there came one day a rich Jew to Mr. Johnson's house, in order to deal with ​him for some jewels. As he had been a long time an acquaintance of his, he invited him to dinner. It happened the Jew was as much taken with the elder daughter, as Mr. David was with the younger, which occasioned his making frequent visits. The father soon perceived the reason of it, and was greatly rejoiced at it; on which account he delayed the other's match for a little while, hoping to see them both well disposed of at the same time. But the Jew did not presently declare himself, on the consideration that she was a Christian. He considered whether it might not be possible to obtain her on any other terms than matrimony. He knew her father was very covetous, which gave him hopes, that for a sum of money he himself would sell her. He resolved therefore to try that method first; but if that did not succeed, as he found he liked her so much, that he was uneasy without the possession of her, he could but marry her afterwards. He was charmed with her person, and thought women's souls were of no great consequence, nor did it signify much what they profess. He took the first opportunity of making his proposal to the father, and offered him such a sum of money as his heart leaped at the mention of; but he endeavoured to conceal the effect it had on him as much as possible, and only said, he would consider of it till the next morning, and then he should have an answer.
As soon as Mr. Johnson was alone he sat down to think seriously on what he should determine. He was sure, by the sum the Jew had offered for his daughter, that if he did not comply with his scheme, be would marry her, rather than go without her. But then he was dubious which he should get most by. He was a good while deliberating which way his interest would be best promoted. At last concluded, if ha could get rid of his daughter, ​out giving her any fortune, and make an alliance with so rich a man, it would in the end prove more conducive to his interest than taking the money.
When the Jew therefore came at the appointed time to know his determination, he began by telling him, he was very sorry after so long an acquaintance, in all which time he had dealt fairly with him (as indeed he had never attempted to impose on the Jew, knowing it to be impossible) that he should form a scheme to dishonour his family, and have so ill an opinion of him, to think he would be an instrument in it; but as it might be owing to the great passion he had for his daughter, he was very unwilling to fall out with him; if his love was great enough to marry her he would give her to him with all his heart. Perhaps he might object to her being a Christian; but he had always used her implicitly to obey him; and therefore he did not fear her conforming to whatever he pleased. This stumbling-block once got over, everything else was soon agreed between them; for the Jew consented to take her on her father's own terms: and there remained nothing now to do but to acquaint Miss Johnson with it.
She was at first startled at the thoughts of changing her religion; but as she had no more understanding than was just necessary to set off her own charms by knowing which dress and which posture became her best; and had never been taught anything more than to go to church of a Sunday, when she was not wanted to stay at home to overlook the dinner, without knowing any other reason for it than custom; the rich presents the Jew made her; and his promises of keeping her great soon overcame all her scruples, and she consented to have him.
He now took the privilege of a son-in-law, being so soon to be married, and had always one dish ​dressed in his own way. He one day brought iMr. Nokes, an acquaintance of his, to dinner with him; and though he was immensely rich, he was not afraid he would steal away his mistress, he being too old and ugly to admit a suspicion of any woman's liking him. But unluckily this old fellow cast his eyes upon David's mistress, and took so great a fancy to her, that he was resolved to have her: he was not afraid of being refused, for he had money enough to have bought a lady of much higher rank; nor did he give himself any trouble I about gaining a woman's affections, not thinking them worth having; but took it for granted, that every virtuous woman, when she was married, must love her husband well enough to make a good wife, and comply with his humour. He went therefore directly to the father, and offered to make any settlement he should think proper, if he would give him his daughter; who was overjoyed at the proposal and made no scruple of promising her to him, without ever reflecting on the base trick he was playing David.
As soon as Mr. Nokes was gone, Johnson sent for his daughter, and told her what had passed; he said, as she had hitherto been a very obedient girl, he hoped she would still continue so. He owned he had ordered her to encourage Mr. Simple's addresses, because at that time he appeared to be a very advantageous match for her; but now, when a better offered, she would, he said, be certainly in the right to take the man she could get most by; otherwise she must walk on foot, while her sister rode in her coach. He allowed her a week's time to consider it; well knowing women are most apt to pursue their interests, when they have had time enough to paint to their own imaginations, how much riches will conduce to the satisfaction of their vanity. She made him no answer, but went ​immediately to her chamber, where she had left a young woman, her chief confidante, and from whom she concealed nothing. As soon as she entered the room, she threw herself on the bed, and fell into a violent passion of crying. Her companion was amazed, and thinking some dreadful accident had happened to her, begged to know what was the matter. Miss Johnson then told her what her father had been saying, with all the agonies of a person in the highest distress. Upon which ensued the following dialogue; which I shall set down word for word; everybody's own words giving the most lively representations of their meaning.
A Dialogue between Miss Nancy Johnson and Miss Betty Trusty.
Miss Betty.—Well! and I see nothing in all this to make you so miserable. You are very sure your lover will take you without a farthing, and will think himself happy to have such a proof of your affection; and for my part, if it was my case, I should think it no manner of sin to disobey a father who imposed such unreasonable commands on me.
Miss Nanny.—Oh! my dear, you quite mistake my case; I am not troubling my head either about the sin or my father, but the height of my distress lies in not knowing my own mind; if I could once find that out I should be easy enough. I am so divided by the desire of riches on the one hand and by my honour and the man I like on the other, that there is such a struggle in my mind, I am almost distracted.
Miss Betty. — O fie! child, I thought you had ​been more constant in your nature, and that when you had given your affection to a man it had not been in the power of money to have altered you. I am sure if it was my case I should make no question of preferring a young man I liked to an old decrepid ugly monster, though he was ever so rich, I cannot help laughing at the idea of his figure whenever it comes in ray head: in him nature seems perfectly reversed; the calves of his legs are placed before, and his feet turned inward as it were in spite of nature: one side of his back is high enough to carry the load of riches he possesses, and the other is shrunk in such a manner, that one would imagine his two sides were made only to form a ridiculous contrast. Undoubtedly you will be much envied the possession of so lovely a creature!
Miss Nanny.—At what a rate you run on; it is easy to talk, but if you was in my place you can't tell what you would feel. Oh, that this good offer had but come before I knew the other, or at my first acquaintance with him I for then I only received him because my father bid me, and I thought to gain by such a match: but now when I have conversed long enough with him, to find it is in his power to give me pleasure; I must either forsake him, or abandon all thoughts of being a great woman. It is true, my lover can indeed keep me very well, I shall not want for anything he can procure me; for I am sure he loves me sincerely, and will do all in his power to oblige me; and I like him very well, and shall have no reason to envy another woman the possession of any man whatever: but then, he can't afford to buy me fine jewels, to keep me an equipage; and I must see my sister ride in her coach and six, while I take up with a hack, or at best with a coach and pair. Oh! I can never bear that thought, that is certain I my heart is ready to burst. Sure never woman's misfortune equalled mine!
​[Here she fell into such a violent passion of crying, it was some time before she could speak; but when she was a little recovered, she went on in the following words.]
Pray, my dear friend, advise me; do not be silent while I am thus perplexed, but tell me which will give me the greatest pleasure, the satisfaction of my love or of my vanity?
Miss Betty.—Was ever woman so unreasonable? How is it possible for me to tell which will give you most pleasure? You certainly must know that best yourself. I have already told you, if it was my case I should not hesitate a moment, but take the young fellow, and let the old wretch purchase what nurse he pleased; he may meet with women enow who have no engagements, and there is no fear that any such would refuse him.
Miss Nanny.—You say true; I wish that had been my situation; but if I should neglect this opportunity of making my fortune, every woman whom I see supported in grandeur, will make me mad to think I had it once in my power to have been as great as her. Well, I find it is impossible I should ever come to any determination; I shall never find out what I have most mind to do, so I must even leave it to chance. I will go tell Mr. David what has happened, and if he presses me very much to run away with him, I shall never be able to resist him; but perhaps he may be afraid to make me unhappy, and then I may marry the other without any obstruction: but then no doubt he will marry somebody else, and I cannot bear that neither! I find it is in vain for me to think; I am in a labyrinth, and the farther I go the more I am puzzled: if I could but contrive some way to have my lover, and yet not give up the money, I should be happy; but as that is impossible, I must be miserable, for I shall always regret the loss of either. I will do the best I can, I ​will have the riches, that is positive; if I can possibly command myself enough to resist my lover's importunities, in case he should persist in my going away with him.
Thus ended this dialogue; in which vanity seemed to have had a fair chance of gaining the victory over love; or, in other words, where a young lady seemed to promise herself more pleasure from the purse than the person of her lover. And I hope to be excused by those gentlemen who are quite sure they have found one woman, who is a perfect angel, and that all the rest are perfect devils, for drawing the character of a woman who was neither; for Miss Nanny Johnson was very good-humoured, had a great deal of softness, and had no alloy to these good qualities, but a great share of vanity, with some small spices of envy, which must always accompany it. And I make no matter of doubt, but if she had not met with this temptation, she would have made a very affectionate wife to the man who loved her: ha would have thought himself extremely happy, with a perfect assurance that nothing could have tempted her to abandon him. And when she had had the experience, what it was to be constantly beloved by a man of Mr. Simple's goodness of heart, she would have exulted in her own happiness, and been the first to have blamed any other woman for giving up the pleasure of having the man she loved for any advantage of fortune; and would have thought it utterly impossible for her ever to have been tempted to such an action; which then might possibly have appeared in the most dishonourable light: for to talk of a temptation at a distance, and to feel it present, are two such very different things, that everybody can resist the one, and very few people the other. But it is now time to think of poor David, who has been all this time in a great deal of misery; the reason of which the next chapter will disclose.