agreeable part of the world. I was not averse to a
tradesman, but then I would have a tradesman, forsooth, that was
something of a gentleman too; that when my husband had a mind to carry
me to the court, or to the play, he might become a sword, and look as
like a gentleman as another man; and not be one that had the mark of
his apron-strings upon his coat, or the mark of his hat upon his
periwig; that should look as if he was set on to his sword, when his
sword was put on to him, and that carried his trade in his countenance.

Well, at last I found this amphibious creature, this land-water thing
called a gentleman-tradesman; and as a just plague upon my folly, I was
catched in the very snare which, as I might say, I laid for myself. I
said for myself, for I was not trepanned, I confess, but I betrayed
myself.

This was a draper, too, for though my comrade would have brought me to
a bargain with her brother, yet when it came to the point, it was, it
seems, for a mistress, not a wife; and I kept true to this notion, that
a woman should never be kept for a mistress that had money to keep
herself.

Thus my pride, not my principle, my money, not my virtue, kept me
honest; though, as it proved, I found I had much better have been sold
by my she-comrade to her brother, than have sold myself as I did to a
tradesman that was rake, gentleman, shopkeeper, and beggar, all
together.

But I was hurried on (by my fancy to a gentleman) to ruin myself in the
grossest manner that every woman did; for my new husband coming to a
lump of money at once, fell into such a profusion of expense, that all
I had, and all he had before, if he had anything worth mentioning,
would not have held it out above one year.

He was very fond of me for about a quarter of a year, and what I got by
that was, that I had the pleasure of seeing a great deal of my money
spent upon myself, and, as I may say, had some of the spending it too.
'Come, my dear,' says he to me one day, 'shall we go and take a turn
into the country for about a week?' 'Ay, my dear,' says I, 'whither
would you go?' 'I care not whither,' says he, 'but I have a mind to
look like quality for a week. We'll go to Oxford,' says he. 'How,'
says I, 'shall we go? I am no horsewoman, and 'tis too far for a
coach.' 'Too far!' says he; 'no place is too far for a coach-and-six.
If I carry you out, you shall travel like a duchess.' 'Hum,' says I,
'my dear, 'tis a frolic; but if you have a min