'That villin Willim has forsaken a poor young woman, after robbin hur of hur virginity, and gettin hur with child, which she is now lying in off, and all for love of his mistress.
'If you watch them in the morning at breakfast, you will find them out to a sartainty.
'So no more at present, from your Honor's humble servant,
'Some one in the Secret.'
Nothing could possibly exceed the surprise excited by this extraordinary epistle. The slightest suspicion of his wife's incontinency had never once entered the mind of Mr. Ayrtoun, but the reverse, he conceived her to be as chaste as Diana, yet, in one moment the assiduities of William rushed upon him with ineffable sensibility, and the green-eyed monster with all his poisons and daggers stood aghast before him. In the next, the letter appeared to be the invention of malice, and his wife's exquisite little form arrayed in the pure robes of exquisite innocence, stood all chaste and justified before him.
Again he indulged a thousand fleeting terrors. He contemplated the probable superior prowess of his rainbow rival, the opportunities which his own absence afforded a libidinous woman. He now began to suspect his own abilities, and to condemn himself for a venture of so disproportionate a nature. But after a variety of thoughts and suggestions, the whole were consolidated into curiosity, and he resolved to make assurance double sure, by being an eye-witness, if possible, to his wife's strict propriety of conduct.
For this purpose he returned to Bath that very day, and was received as usual by our modest matron, with apparent affection, to whom he paid connubial adoration, and for whose person he more than ever panted. But our heroine, as usual, declined the amorous conflict, alleging her ill health, and enforced a respite by the promise of future obedience. Having spent the day in mutual tenderness, the fond couple now retired, 'each to their downy couch,' but not before the husband declared his intention of going the next morning again to his country residence, where he said he had engaged to meet some of his tenants upon special business.
The house which this fond couple occupied in Bath was at the corner of a street, and had two doors, besides a third which led through a stable. Of this door Mr. Ayrtoun always kept a key, as he very frequently rode out and in and put up his horse without trouble. It was a whim, not to be sure very common among men of large fortune, but as such it pleased him, and he indulged his humour.
In the morning early, and after a night of very indifferent rest, he arose, took his horse as usual, and rode about a mile towards his country seat, when pretending some occasion to return he stopped at a small inn, and leaving his palfrey there, walked back without observation. It was still little more than the gray dawn, when letting himself in at the second door, of which he had also secured the key, he ascended softly by a back staircase to the door of his wife's apartment, which, through a delicate apprehension of fire, was never more than shut by the common slip bolt. He listened attentively, and finding all profoundly silent stole gently under the bed, and there became a stationary of little more than curiosity. Had he been discovered, the plan was to affect an amorous impatience, and to force his gentle wife into a compliance with his wishes; but having escaped detection, he lay perdu as a post, and waited the event with as much patience as his philosophy could afford him.
Two tedious hours elapsed before our heroine expressed any symptoms of awaking, but at length a gentle tremulous sigh announced returning animation. The bell was rung, and Deborah, who slept in a small ante-chamber, soon attended the summons.
'Dear Deborah,' cried our heroine, 'I am very thirsty, pray let me have breakfast as soon as possible, I don't think I shall rise for some time, but order the tea immediately.'
'Yes, Madam,' responded Deborah, who fidgeted out of the room with all possible dispatch.
In about ten minutes after William, with tea urn and lamp, made his appearance. And now the spirit of curiosity ascended to the regions of solicitude! And now William having disposed of the urn approached the bed! And now solicitude was transformed to distraction. The curtains were rudely drawn, and William throwing his lusty body over that of his little gentle mistress, proceeded to such a volley of well-timed smacks, as penetrated the very soul and vitals of our enraged and astonished cornuto.
William having made his preparatory discourse, arose, and began to prepare for the work itself. But our heroine, having now some real respect to modesty, begged he would refrain until he returned with the tea things, and had seen that Deborah was about her business in the laundry. This after a few more hearty kisses was complied with, and an horrible interval of at least ten minutes more succeeded.
During this period our heroine started from the bed with all the agility of sound health and spirits, performed a certain morning ceremony, which she probably thought would add to her expectant joys, and having adjusted her head-dress at the glass sprang into bed again with the same sprightliness and vigour with which she quitted it.
William now returned, and after locking the door for fear, as he said, of accident, proceeded to uncommode himself of every atom that might impede the fullness of his joys. In short, he stood like a naked gladiator, furnished with such weapons as were sufficient to terrify even the sister or the wife of Caesar.
Thus prepared for action, he next proceeded to throw off all the bedclothes, and then assuming the seat of bliss gave such wonderful proofs of manhood, as began already to plead in some degree for female infirmity.
Poor Ayrtoun could now no longer resist a strong temptation to behold the combat, and, therefore, raising himself up at the bottom of the bedstead, took a full view of what was passing, heard all the 'sighings' and 'oh's!' the 'dyings' and 'ah's!' and in short, was witness to such a scene as gave him but a melancholy picture of his own claims upon womanhood.
It may appear a little extraordinary, but certain it is, that, having attended the finale of this rencontre, our mortified husband shrunk into his shell once more, and remained there until his powerful and puissant rival retired from his panting matron, and until she arose and left the apartment; when watching a proper opportunity he again stole from the house, and in the afternoon returned agreeable to promise.
To most men this systematic forbearance will seem improbable, yet, certain it is, that Ayrtoun went through the whole probation with the fortitude described, and actually dined and drank wine with his wife before he disclosed his discovery, which, however, he at length did in such a complete manner as to leave her no room of doubting her detection.
Upon being thus discovered and upbraided, instead of whining and begging forgiveness, our little heroine, with a degree of candour not usually met with in the sex, honestly confessed her frailty, which she avowed was irresistible. She declared above board that Ayrtoun never did much more than raise passions which he could not sufficiently gratify, and that, however the world might condemn or censure her upon the matter being disclosed, he only was to blame, for that if he had been what he ought to be, she would have remained virtuous.
If this declaration was vexatious, it was at the same time, as before observed, honest. Ayrtoun from demonstration could not deny the charge; and, therefore, making allowances for all things, he agreed to let the matter not only remain a secret, but to indulge his wife in a continuance of her amour, upon two conditions — first, that she would allow him to be a constant witness to her pleasures; and, second, that in succession to her more favourite lover she would as constantly consent to his less vigorous caresses. And the fact is, that to this day the scene, unknown to any but the three performers, is carried on without intermission.
Deborah fortunately took her flight to Kingdom-come, and the young woman in the 'straw,' who from jealousy wrote the anonymous letter, has gone into Scotland, of which country she was a native, and where for her own sake she will be silent upon a subject which she could only have known from an intimacy that involved her own shame, namely, from William, him who at that time boasted from vanity what he now from interest conceals.
THE HOBGOBLIN
A young man lately in our town,
He went to bed one night,
He had no sooner laid him down,
But was troubled with a sprite;
So vigorously the spirit stood,
Let him do what he can,
Sure then, he said,
It must be laid,
