“It's a general maxim among the knowing part of mankind, that a Yoman without virtue, like a man without honour or honesty, is capable of any action, tho' never so vile; and yet what pains will they not take, what arts not use, to seduce us from our innocence, and make us contemptible and wicked, even in their own opinions!”
Sarah is dispensing advice to her servant, Lucy. The advice is basically thus: men are pigs. And, furthermore, since they are pigs it is only deserving that they get in kind exactly what they shell out. Herein lies the plot of the play. Sarah, a much-acted upon woman whose innocence has been taken by men sets out to find a man upon whom she can enact her feminine wiles. There is just one obvious problem here, of course. Since all men are pigs who prey upon the innocence of women, how can a woman so preyed upon expect to return in kind?
“But guilt makes them suspicious, and keeps them on their guard; therefore we can take advantage only of the young and innocent part of the sex, who, having never injured women, apprehend no injury from them.”
And here is the answer. Sarah Millwood, no babe in the woods, learns what those who have prey always learn supposing they survive the assault. One never goes after the leader of the pact, but instead addresses their bloodlust upon the weakest link. The young male who has not yet had time to learn all and put into practice all the injurious means of assault perpetrated upon unsuspecting females. Ah, but who in particular? That remains the question.
“What have I done! Were my resolutions founded on reason and sincerely made; why then has heaven suffer'd me to fall? I sought not the occasion; and, if my heart deceives me not, compassion and generosity were my motives. Is virtue inconsistent with itself, or are virtue and vice only empty names? Or do they depend on accidents beyond our power to produce or prevent – wherein we have no part, and yet must be determin'd by the event? But why should I attempt to reason? All is confusion, horror, and remorse. I find I am lost, cast down from all my late erected hopes, and plunged again in guilt, yet scarce know how or why.”
The word “love” occurs about sixty times over the course of the play. Interestingly, the word “guilt” shows up almost exactly half as often. The two are never far from each other, however, and they most collide within the figure of George Barnwell. Barnwell is, needless to say, the target of Sarah Millwood’s seduction. The really interesting thing, however, is that though George’s name is listed in the full title of the play, he is not the “London merchant.” That honor goes to the man to whom Barnwell is apprenticed. He is rich; Barnwell is not. But when one has the seductive qualities of Sarah, one need not even target the man who has the money when the man who is trusted by the man who has the money is so close at hand and youthfully innocent of the ways of the world.
