The Fortunes and Misfortunes of the Famous Moll Flanders

I sunk down when they brought me news of it, and after I came to myself

again, I thought I should have died with the weight of it. My

governess acted a true mother to me; she pitied me, she cried with me,

and for me, but she could not help me; and to add to the terror of it,

'twas the discourse all over the house that I should die for it. I

could hear them talk it among themselves very often, and see them shake

their heads and say they were sorry for it, and the like, as is usual

in the place. But still nobody came to tell me their thoughts, till at

last one of the keepers came to me privately, and said with a sigh,

'Well, Mrs. Flanders, you will be tried on Friday' (this was but a

Wednesday); 'what do you intend to do?' I turned as white as a clout,

and said, 'God knows what I shall do; for my part, I know not what to

do.' 'Why,' says he, 'I won't flatter you, I would have you prepare

for death, for I doubt you will be cast; and as they say you are an old

offender, I doubt you will find but little mercy. They say,' added he,

'your case is very plain, and that the witnesses swear so home against

you, there will be no standing it.' This was a stab into the very vitals of one under such a burthen as I

was oppressed with before, and I could not speak to him a word, good or

bad, for a great while; but at last I burst out into tears, and said to

him, 'Lord! Mr. ----, what must I do?' 'Do!' says he, 'send for the

ordinary; send for a minister and talk with him; for, indeed, Mrs.

Flanders, unless you have very good friends, you are no woman for this

world.' This was plain dealing indeed, but it was very harsh to me, at least I

thought it so. He left me in the greatest confusion imaginable, and

all that night I lay awake. And now I began to say my prayers, which I

had scarce done before since my last husband's death, or from a little

while after. And truly I may well call it saying my prayers, for I was

in such a confusion, and had such horror upon my mind, that though I

cried, and repeated several times the ordinary expression of 'Lord,

have mercy upon me!' I never brought myself to any sense of my being a

miserable sinner, as indeed I was, and of confessing my sins to God,

and begging pardon for the sake of Jesus Christ. I was overwhelmed

with the sense of my condition, being tried for my life, and being sure

to be condemned, and then I was as sure to be executed, and on this

account I cried out all night, 'Lord, what will become of me? Lord!

what shall I do? Lord! I shall be hanged! Lord, have mercy upon me!'

and the like.