The Adventures of Roderick Random

Nocturnal Miseries

The lady describes her nocturnal miseries at length: she has often sauntered between Ludgate Hill and Charing Cross for a whole winter night, exposed not only to the inclemency of the weather but also to the rage of hunger and thirst, without being so happy as to meet a single dupe, then crept up to her garret in a deplorable, draggled condition, sneaked to bed, and tried to bury her appetite and sorrows in sleep. When she happens upon a rake or tradesman reeling home drunk, she frequently suffers the most brutal treatment, in spite of which she is obliged to affect gaiety and good humour, though her soul is stung with resentment and disdain and her heart is loaded with grief and affliction.

Infection and Rescue

In the course of these nocturnal adventures, the lady is infected with a venereal disease that, in a short time, renders her the object of her own abhorrence and drives her to the retreat where the narrator’s benevolence rescues her from the jaws of death.

Reflections on Her Misery

So much candour and good sense appear in the lady’s narration that the narrator makes no scruple of believing every syllable of what she says, and expresses his astonishment at the variety of miseries she has undergone in so little time—all her misfortunes having happened within the compass of two years. Comparing her situation with his own, he finds hers a thousand times more wretched. He reflects that, although he too has endured hardships, his whole life has been a series of them, and when he looks forward the prospect is not much bettered, yet they have become habitual, so he can bear them with less difficulty: if one scheme of life fails, he can have recourse to another, veering about to a thousand different shifts without forfeiting the dignity of his character beyond recovery. She, by contrast, has known and relished the sweets of prosperity, having been brought up under the wings of an indulgent parent in all the delicacies her sex and rank entitled her to, and—without any extravagance of hope—had entertained herself with the view of uninterrupted happiness through the whole scene of life. Her reverse of fortune, therefore, not only robs her of external comforts and plunges her into all the miseries of want, but also murders her peace of mind and entails upon her the curse of eternal infamy. Of all professions, he pronounces that of a courtesan the most deplorable, and her of all courtesans the most unhappy.