as wicked as myself, I brought him to lie
with her again several times after that, till at last, as the poor girl
said, so it happened, and she was really with child.

She was terribly concerned at it, and so was he too. "Come, my dear,"
says I, "when Rachel put her handmaid to bed to Jacob, she took the
children as her own. Don't be uneasy; I'll take the child as my own. Had
not I a hand in the frolic of putting her to bed to you? It was my fault
as much as yours." So I called Amy, and encouraged her too, and told her
that I would take care of the child and her too, and added the same
argument to her. "For," says I, "Amy, it was all my fault. Did not I
drag your clothes off your back, and put you to bed to him?" Thus I,
that had, indeed, been the cause of all the wickedness between them,
encouraged them both, when they had any remorse about it, and rather
prompted them to go on with it than to repent it.

When Amy grew big she went to a place I had provided for her, and the
neighbours knew nothing but that Amy and I was parted. She had a fine
child indeed, a daughter, and we had it nursed; and Amy came again in
about half a year to live with her old mistress; but neither my
gentleman, or Amy either, cared for playing that game over again; for,
as he said, the jade might bring him a houseful of children to keep.

We lived as merrily and as happily after this as could be expected,
considering our circumstances; I mean as to the pretended marriage, &c.;
and as to that, my gentleman had not the least concern about him for it.
But as much as I was hardened, and that was as much as I believe ever
any wicked creature was, yet I could not help it, there was and would be
hours of intervals and of dark reflections which came involuntarily in,
and thrust in sighs into the middle of all my songs; and there would be
sometimes a heaviness of heart which intermingled itself with all my
joy, and which would often fetch a tear from my eye. And let others
pretend what they will, I believe it impossible to be otherwise with
anybody. There can be no substantial satisfaction in a life of known
wickedness; conscience will, and does often, break in upon them at
particular times, let them do what they can to prevent it.

But I am not to preach, but to relate; and whatever loose reflections
were, and how often soever those dark intervals came on, I did my utmost
to conceal them from him; ay, and to suppress and smother them too in
myself;