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Amelia by Henry Fielding
Amelia by Henry Fielding
The first persons whom they passed by were three men in fetters, who were enjoying themselves very merrily over a bottle of wine and a pipe of tobacco. These, Mr. Robinson informed his friend, were three street-robbers, and were all certain of being hanged the ensuing sessions. So inconsiderable an object, said he, is misery to light minds, when it is at any distance.
A little farther they beheld a man prostrate on the ground, whose heavy groans and frantic actions plainly indicated the highest disorder of mind. This person was, it seems, committed for a small felony; and his wife, who then lay-in, upon hearing the news, had thrown herself from a window two pair of stairs high, by which means he had, in all probability, lost both her and his child.
A very pretty girl then advanced towards them, whose beauty Mr. Booth could not help admiring the moment he saw her; declaring, at the same time, he thought she had great innocence in her countenance. Robinson said she was committed thither as an idle and disorderly person, and a common street-walker. As she past by Mr. Booth, she damned his eyes, and discharged a volley of words, every one of which was too indecent to be repeated.
They now beheld a little creature sitting by herself in a corner, and crying bitterly. This girl, Mr. Robinson said, was committed because her father-in-law, who was in the grenadier guards, had sworn that he was afraid of his life, or of some bodily harm which she would do him, and she could get no sureties for keeping the peace; for which reason justice Thrasher had committed her to prison.
A great noise now arose, occasioned by the prisoners all flocking to see a fellow whipt for petty larceny, to which he was condemned by the court of quarter-sessions; but this soon ended in the disappointment of the spectators; for the fellow, after being stript, having advanced another sixpence, was discharged untouched.
This was immediately followed by another bustle; Blear-eyed Moll, and several of her companions, having got possession of a man who was committed for certain odious unmanlike practices, not fit to be named, were giving him various kinds of discipline, and would probably have put an end to him, had he not been rescued out of their hands by authority.
When this bustle was a little allayed, Mr. Booth took notice of a young woman in rags sitting on the ground, and supporting the head of an old man in her lap, who appeared to be giving up the ghost. These, Mr. Robinson informed him, were father and daughter; that the latter was committed for stealing a loaf, in order to support the former, and the former for receiving it, knowing it to be stolen.
A well-drest man then walked surlily by them, whom Mr. Robinson reported to have been committed on an indictment found against him for a most horrid perjury; but, says he, we expect him to be bailed today. "Good Heaven!" cries Booth, "can such villains find bail, and is no person charitable enough to bail that poor father and daughter?" "Oh! sir," answered Robinson, "the offence of the daughter, being felony, is held not to be bailable in law; whereas perjury is a misdemeanor only; and therefore persons who are even indicted for it are, nevertheless, capable of being bailed. Nay, of all perjuries, that of which this man is indicted is the worst; for it was with an intention of taking away the life of an innocent person by form of law. As to perjuries in civil matters, they are not so very criminal." "They are not," said Booth; "and yet even these are a most flagitious offence, and worthy the highest punishment." "Surely they ought to be distinguished," answered Robinson, "from the others: for what is taking away a little property from a man, compared to taking away his life and his reputation, and ruining his family into the bargain?-I hope there can be no comparison in the crimes, and I think there ought to be none in the punishment. However, at present, the punishment of all perjury is only pillory and transportation for seven years; and, as it is a traversable and bailable offence, methods are found to escape any punishment at all."{Footnote: By removing the indictment by certiorari into the King's Bench, the trial is so long postponed, and the costs are so highly encreased, that prosecutors are often tired out, and some incapacitated from pursuing. Verbum sapienti.}
Booth exprest great astonishment at this, when his attention was suddenly diverted by the most miserable object that he had yet seen. This was a wretch almost naked, and who bore in his countenance, joined to an appearance of honesty, the marks of poverty, hunger, and disease. He had, moreover, a wooden leg, and two or three scars on his forehead. "The case of this poor man is, indeed, unhappy enough," said Robinson. "He hath served his country, lost his limb, and received several wounds at the siege of Gibraltar. When he was discharged from the hospital abroad he came over to get into that of Chelsea, but could not immediately, as none of his officers were then in England. In the mean time, he was one day apprehended and committed hither on suspicion of stealing three herrings from a fishmonger. He was tried several months ago for this offence, and acquitted; indeed, his innocence manifestly appeared at the trial; but he was brought back again for his fees, and here he hath lain ever since."
Booth exprest great horror at this account, and declared, if he had only so much money in his pocket, he would pay his fees for him; but added that he was not possessed of a single farthing in the world.
Robinson hesitated a moment, and then said, with a smile, "I am going to make you, sir, a very odd proposal after your last declaration; but what say you to a game at cards? it will serve to pass a tedious hour, and may divert your thoughts from more unpleasant speculations."
I do not imagine Booth would have agreed to this; for, though some love of gaming had been formerly amongst his faults, yet he was not so egregiously addicted to that vice as to be tempted by the shabby plight of Robinson, who had, if I may so express myself, no charms for a gamester. If he had, however, any such inclinations, he had no opportunity to follow them, for, before he could make any answer to Robinson's proposal, a strapping wench came up to Booth, and, taking hold of his arm, asked him to walk aside with her; saying, "What a pox, are you such a fresh cull that you do not know this fellow? why, he is a gambler, and committed for cheating at play. There is not such a pickpocket in the whole quad."{Footnote: A cant word for a prison.}
A scene of altercation now ensued between Robinson and the lady, which ended in a bout at fisticuffs, in which the lady was greatly superior to the philosopher.
While the two combatants were engaged, a grave-looking man, rather better drest than the majority of the company, came up to Mr. Booth, and, taking him aside, said, "I am sorry, sir, to see a gentleman, as you appear to be, in such intimacy with that rascal, who makes no scruple of disowning all revealed religion. As for crimes, they are human errors, and signify but little; nay, perhaps the worse a man is by nature, the more room there is for grace. The spirit is active, and loves best to inhabit those minds where it may meet with the most work. Whatever your crime be, therefore I would not have you despair, but rather rejoice at it; for perhaps it may be the means of your being called." He ran on for a considerable time with this cant, without waiting for an answer, and ended in declaring himself a methodist.
Just as the methodist had finished his discourse, a beautiful young woman was ushered into the gaol. She was genteel and well drest, and did not in the least resemble those females whom Mr. Booth had hitherto seen. The constable had no sooner delivered her at the gate than she asked with a commanding voice for the keeper; and, when he arrived, she said to him, "Well, sir, whither am I to be conducted? I hope I am not to take up my lodging with these creatures." The keeper answered, with a kind of surly respect, "Madam, we have rooms for those who can afford to pay for them." At these words she pulled a handsome purse from her pocket, in which many guineas chinked, saying, with an air of indignation, "That she was not come thither on account of poverty." The keeper no sooner viewed the purse than his features became all softened in an instant; and, with all the courtesy of which he was master, he desired the lady to walk with him, assuring her that she should have the best apartment in his house.
Mr. Booth was now left alone; for the methodist had forsaken him, having, as the phrase of the sect is, searched him to the bottom. In fact, he had thoroughly examined every one of Mr. Booth's pockets; from which he had conveyed away a penknife and an iron snuff-box, these being all the moveables which were to be found.
Booth was standing near the gate of the prison when the young lady above mentioned was introduced into the yard. He viewed her features very attentively, and was persuaded that he knew her. She was indeed so remarkably handsome, that it was hardly possible for any who had ever seen her to forget her. He enquired of one of the underkeepers if the name of the prisoner lately arrived was not Matthews; to which he was answered that her name was not Matthews but Vincent, and that she was committed for murder.
The latter part of this information made Mr. Booth suspect his memory more than the former; for it was very possible that she might have changed her name; but he hardly thought she could so far have changed her nature as to be guilty of a crime so very incongruous with her former gentle manners: for Miss Matthews had both the birth and education of a gentlewoman. He concluded, therefore, that he was certainly mistaken, and rested satisfied without any further enquiry.
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This comprehensive eBook presents the complete fictional works of Henry Fielding, with numerous illustrations, informative introductions and the usual Delphi bonus material. (Version 1)Beautifully illustrated with images relating to Fielding's life and worksConcise introductions to the novels and other textsALL the novels, with individual contents tablesImages of how the books were first printed, giving your eReader a taste of the original textsThe complete 26 extant plays, for the first time in digital publishing historyExcellent formatting of the textsFamous works such as TOM JONES are illustrated with their original artworkSpecial chronological and alphabetical contents tables for the poetryIncludes a thorough selection of Fielding's non-fictionFeatures two biographies, including Sir Walter's Scott's scarce study of the author's life - explore Fielding's literary worldScholarly ordering of texts into chronological order and literary genresPlease visit delphiclassics.com to browse through our range of exciting titlesContents:The NovelsAn Apology for the Life of Mrs Shamela AndrewsThe History of the Adventures of Joseph AndrewsThe Life of Mr Jonathan Wild the Great.The History of Tom Jones, a FoundlingThe History of AmeliaThe PlaysLove in Several MasquesThe Temple BeauThe Author's Farce; And the Pleasures of the TownTom Thumb: A TragedyRape Upon RapeThe Letter-WritersThe Grub Street OperaThe LotteryThe Modern HusbandThe Covent-Garden TragedyThe Old DebaucheesThe Mock DoctorThe MiserThe Intriguing ChambermaidDon Quixote in EnglandAn Old Man Taught WisdomThe Universal Gallant, or the Different HusbandsPasquin, a Dramatick Satire on the TimesTumble-down DickEurydice, a FarceThe Historical Register for the Year 1736Eurydice Hiss'dMiss Lucy in TownPlutus, the God of RichesThe Wedding-DayThe Fathers, or the Good-Natur'd ManThe PoemsList of Poems in Chronological OrderList of Poems in Alphabetical OrderThe Non-FictionThe Journal of a Voyage to LisbonA Journey from This World to the NextAn Essay on Conversation.An Essay on the Knowledge of the Characters of MenAn Essay on NothingThe Opposition: A VisionThe True PatriotA Selection from the Covent-Garden JournalThe Female HusbandFamiliar Letters.The BiographiesThe Life of Henry Fielding by Sir Walter ScottFielding by Austin DobsonPlease visit delphiclassics.com to browse through our range of exciting titles
Jonathan Wild, born about 1682 and executed at Tyburn in 1725, was one of the most notorious criminals of his age. His resemblance to the hero in Fielding's satire of the same name is general rather than particular. The real Jonathan (whose legitimate business was that of a buckle-maker) like Fielding's, won his fame, not as a robber himself, but as an informer, and a receiver of stolen goods. His method was to restore these to the owners on receipt of a commission, which was generally pretty large, pretending that he had paid the whole of it to the thieves, whom for disinterested motives he had traced.
"Please believe me. I didn't do anything!" Thalassa Thompson cried helplessly. "Take her away." Kris Miller, her husband, said coldly. He didn't care as she was humiliated for the whole world to see. What would you if the love of your life and the woman you considered your best friend betrayed you in the worse way possible? For Thalassa, the answer was only one; she's going to come back stronger and better and bring everyone who made her suffer to their knees. Let the games begin! ***** "I hate you." Kris gritted out, glaring into her eyes. Thalassa laughed. "Mr Miller, if you hate me so much, then why is your dick so hard?"
Evelina, a mute girl, married Andreas believing he alone would shield her from a world of misery. Three years later, she carried invisible bruises: a miscarried child, a smirking mistress who shamed her in public, and a husband who treated her as a pawn. Love no longer tempted her, nor did she crave another chance. Andreas thought Evelina would never leave him, but when she walked out without a backward glance, panic set in. "Andreas, face the truth. It's over," Evelina declared firmly. He blinked back tears as he stated, "I can't let go." For the first time, she chose herself-and let her heart lead the way.
Sunlit hours found their affection glimmering, while moonlit nights ignited reckless desire. But when Brandon learned his beloved might last only half a year, he coolly handed Millie divorce papers, murmuring, "This is all for appearances; we'll get married again once she's calmed down." Millie, spine straight and cheeks dry, felt her pulse go hollow. The sham split grew permanent; she quietly ended their unborn child and stepped into a new beginning. Brandon unraveled, his car tearing down the street, unwilling to let go of the woman he'd discarded, pleading for her to look back just once.
I was four months pregnant, a photographer excited for our future, attending a sophisticated baby brunch. Then I saw him, my husband Michael, with another woman, and a newborn introduced as "his son." My world shattered as a torrent of betrayal washed over me, magnified by Michael's dismissive claim I was "just being emotional." His mistress, Serena, taunted me, revealing Michael had discussed my pregnancy complications with her, then slapped me, causing a terrifying cramp. Michael sided with her, publicly shaming me, demanding I leave "their" party, as a society blog already paraded them as a "picture-perfect family." He fully expected me to return, to accept his double life, telling his friends I was "dramatic" but would "always come back." The audacity, the calculated cruelty of his deception, and Serena's chilling malice, fueled a cold, hard rage I barely recognized. How could I have been so blind, so trusting of the man who gaslighted me for months while building a second family? But on the plush carpet of that lawyer's office, as he turned his back on me, a new, unbreakable resolve solidified. They thought I was broken, disposable, easily manipulated – a "reasonable" wife who would accept a sham separation. They had no idea my calm acceptance was not surrender; it was strategy, a quiet promise to dismantle everything he held dear. I would not be handled; I would not understand; I would end this, and make sure their perfect family charade crumbled into dust.
Dayna had worshiped her husband, only to watch him strip her late mother's estate and lavish devotion on another woman. After three miserable years, he discarded her, and she lay broken-until Kristopher, the man she once betrayed, dragged her from the wreckage. He now sat in a wheelchair, eyes like tempered steel. She offered a pact: she would mend his legs if he helped crush her ex. He scoffed, yet signed on. As their ruthless alliance caught fire, he uncovered her other lives-healer, hacker, pianist-and her numb heart stirred. But her groveling ex crawled back. "Dayna, you were my wife! How could you marry someone else? Come back!"
"Ms. Crawford, it’s time for you to divorce Mr. Larsen and come home. You're the only heiress the Master's waiting for.” ~•~ For the sake of love, Amara accepted the arranged marriage with Tobias William Larsen. She did everything to gain her husband’s heart but when his old love returned, she realized that all her effort was all for naught. Tobias demanded a divorce on the night of their wedding anniversary, even at the price of threatening her. Heartbroken, she finally dropped all her illusions about him and returned home to be the heiress. The next time she met Tobias, they were no longer couples but opponents. "Mr. Larsen, should I remind you again? We've divorced." "Amara, that's the stupidest mistake I've ever made. Please come back to me."
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