'All this, I believe, is very true,' cries Amelia; 'but yet you know, doctor, the opinion of the world.'
'You talk simply, child,' cries the doctor. 'What is the opinion of the world opposed to religion and virtue? but you are in the wrong. It is not the opinion of the world; it is the opinion of the idle, ignorant, and profligate. It is impossible it should be the opinion of one man of sense, who is in earnest in his belief of our religion. Chiefly, indeed, it hath been upheld by the nonsense of women, who, either from their extreme cowardice and desire of protection, or, as Mr. Bayle thinks, from their excessive vanity, have been always forward to countenance a set of hectors and bravoes, and to despise all men of modesty and sobriety; though these are often, at the bottom, not only the better but the braver men.'
'You know, doctor,' cries Amelia, 'I have never presumed to argue with you; your opinion is to me always instruction, and your word a law.'
'Indeed, child,' cries the doctor, 'I know you are a good woman; and yet I must observe to you, that this very desire of feeding the passion of female vanity with the heroism of her man, old Homer seems to make the characteristic of a bad and loose woman. He introduces Helen upbraiding her gallant with having quitted the fight, and left the victory to Menelaus, and seeming to be sorry that she had left her husband only because he was the better duellist of the two: but in how different a light doth he represent the tender and chaste love of Andromache to her worthy Hector! she dissuades him from exposing himself to danger, even in a just cause. This is indeed a weakness, but it is an amiable one, and becoming the true feminine character; but a woman who, out of heroic vanity (for so it is), would hazard not only the life but the soul too of her husband in a duel, is a monster, and ought to be painted in no other character but that of a Fury.'
'I assure you, doctor,' cries Amelia, 'I never saw this matter in the odious light in which you have truly represented it, before. I am ashamed to recollect what I have formerly said on this subject. And yet, whilst the opinion of the world is as it is, one would wish to comply as far as possible, especially as my husband is an officer of the army. If it can be done, therefore, with safety to his honour--'
'Again honour!' cries the doctor; 'indeed I will not suffer that noble word to be so basely and barbarously prostituted. I have known some of these men of honour, as they call themselves, to be the most arrant rascals in the universe.'
'Well, I ask your pardon,' said she; 'reputation then, if you please, or any other word you like better; you know my meaning very well.'
'I do know your meaning,' cries the doctor, 'and Virgil knew it a great while ago. The next time you see your friend Mrs. Atkinson, ask her what it was made Dido fall in love with AEneas?'
'Nay, dear sir,' said Amelia, 'do not rally me so unmercifully; think where my poor husband is now.'
'He is,' answered the doctor, 'where I will presently be with him. In the mean time, do you pack up everything in order for your journey to- morrow; for if you are wise, you will not trust your husband a day longer in this town--therefore to packing.'
Amelia promised she would, though indeed she wanted not any warning for her journey on this account; for when she packed up herself in the coach, she packed up her all. However, she did not think proper to mention this to the doctor; for, as he was now in pretty good humour, she did not care to venture again discomposing his temper.
The doctor then set out for Gray's-inn-lane, and, as soon as he was gone, Amelia began to consider of her incapacity to take a journey in her present situation without even a clean shift. At last she resolved, as she was possessed of seven guineas and a half, to go to her friend and redeem some of her own and her husband's linen out of captivity; indeed just so much as would render it barely possible for them to go out of town with any kind of decency. And this resolution she immediately executed.
As soon as she had finished her business with the pawnbroker (if a man who lends under thirty per cent. deserves that name), he said to her, 'Pray, madam, did you know that man who was here yesterday when you brought the picture?' Amelia answered in the negative. 'Indeed, madam,' said the broker, 'he knows you, though he did not recollect you while you was here, as your hood was drawn over your face; but the moment you was gone he begged to look at the picture, which I, thinking no harm, permitted. He had scarce looked upon it when he cried out, 'By heaven and earth it is her picture!' He then asked me if I knew you.' 'Indeed,' says I, 'I never saw the lady before.'
