‘As I wish God to bless me, sir, and to preserve my innocence, I have not.’ ‘I will believe you, Pamela,’ said he. ‘In time, perhaps, I may better bear that man’s name. If I am convinced that you are not prepossessed, my vanity makes me assured, that I need not to fear a place in your regard, in preference to any other man. But yet it piques my pride, to think that you were so easily, and at such a short acquaintance, brought to run away with that college novice!’
‘May I, sir, be heard one word? Let me not incur your indignation and I will tell you, perhaps, the unnecessary and imprudent, but yet, the whole truth.
‘My honesty (I am poor and lowly, and am not intitled to call it honour) was in danger. I saw no means of securing myself from your avowed attempts. You had shewed you would not stick at little matters; and what, sir, could any body have thought of my sincerity, when I declared that I preferred my virtue to all other considerations, if I had not escaped from these dangers, if I could have found any way to do it? I am not going to say any thing for him; but indeed, sir, it was I that put him upon assisting my escape. I got him to enquire, if there were any gentry in the neighbourhood, who would protect me; and prevailed upon him – Don’t frown at me, good sir, for I must tell you the whole truth! – to apply to a lady named Jones; and to Lady Darnford; and he was so good as to apply to Mr Peters the minister: but they all refused me; and then it was he let me know, that there was no honourable way to avoid the dangers I apprehended but marriage. I declined his experient; and he agreed to assist me for God’s sake.’
‘Now,’ said he, ‘you are going–’ Interrupting him, ‘Pray, sir,’ said I, ‘don’t be angry; I have just done. I would only say, that rather than have staid to be ruined, I would have thrown myself upon the poorest beggar that ever the world saw, if I had thought him honest. And I hope, when you duly weigh all matters, you will forgive me, and not think me so bold and so forward a creature as you have been pleased to call me.’
‘Well,’ said he, ‘even in this your last speech, which, let me tell you, shews more your integrity of heart, than your prudence, you have not over-much pleased me. But I must love you; and it vexes me not a little that I must. But tell me, Pamela; for now the former question recurs; since you so much prize your virtue; since all attempts against that, are so odious to you; and since I have avowedly made several of these attempts, do you think it is possible for you to love me preferably to any other man?’
‘Ah! sir,’ said I, ‘and here my doubt recurs, that you may thus graciously treat me, to take advantage of my credulity.’
‘Still perverse and doubting! Cannot you take me as I am at present? I have told you that I am now sincere and undesigning, whatever I may be hereafter.’
‘Ah! sir, what can I say? I have already said too much, if – But do not bid me say how well.’ And then, my face glowing as the fire, I, all abashed, leaned upon his shoulder, to hide my confusion.
He clasped me to him with ardour, and said, ‘Hide your dear face in my bosom, my beloved Pamela; your innocent freedoms charm me! But then say – How well – what?’
‘If you will be good,’ said I, ‘to your poor servant, and spare her, she cannot say too much! But if not, she is doubly undone! Undone indeed!’
‘I hope my present temper will hold,’ replied he; ‘for I tell you frankly, that I have known, in this agreeable hour, more sincere pleasure than I ever experienced in the guilty tumults, that my desiring soul drove me into, in the hopes of possessing you on my own terms. And, Pamela, you must pray for the continuance of this temper; and I hope your prayers will get the better of my temptations.’
His goodness overpowered all my reserves. I threw myself at his feet, and embraced his knees. ‘What pleasure, sir, you give me, at these gracious words, is not lent your poor servant to express! I shall be too much rewarded for all my sufferings, if this goodness hold! God grant it may, for your own soul’s sake, as well as for mine! And oh! how happy should I be, if–’
He stopped me, and said, ‘But, my dear girl, what must we do about the world, and the world’s censure? Indeed, I cannot marry!’
Now was I again struck all of a heap. However, soon recollecting myself, ‘Sir,’ said I, ‘I have not the presumption to hope for such an honour. If I may be permitted to return in peace and safety to my poor parents, to pray for you there; it is all I at present request. This, sir, after all my apprehensions and dangers, will be a great pleasure to me. And, if I know my own heart, I shall wish you happy in a lady of suitable degree; and rejoice most sincerely in every circumstance that shall make for the happiness of my late good lady’s beloved son.’
‘Well,’ said he, ‘this conversation, Pamela, is gone farther than I intended it. You need not be afraid, at this rate, of trusting yourself with me: But it is I, that ought to be doubtful of myself, when I am with you. But before I say any thing further on this subject, I will take my proud heart to task; and, till then, let every thing be as if this conversation had never passed. Only, let me tell you, that the more confidence you place in me, the more you will oblige me; and that your doubts will only beget cause of doubts.’ And with this ambiguous saying, he saluted194 me in a more formal manner, if I may so say, than before, and lent me his hand; and we walked towards the house, side-by-side, he seeming very thoughtful and pensive, as if he had already repented him of his goodness.
What shall I do, what steps take, if all this be designing! To be sure, if he be false, as I may call it, I have gone too far, much too far! I am ready, on the apprehension of this, to bite my forward tongue, for what I said, or rather to beat my more forward heart, that dictated to that poor tongue. But sure, at least, he must be sincere at the time! He could not be such a practised dissembler. If he could, O how desperately wicked is the heart of man! And where could he learn all these barbarous arts? If so, it must be native surely to the sex! But, silent be my rash censurings! Be hushed, ye stormy tumults of my disturbed mind! For have I not a father who is a man! A man who knows no guile, who would do no wrong; who would not deceive or oppress, to gain a kingdom: how then can I mink it is native to the sex? And I must also hope my good lady’s son cannot be the worst of men! If he be, hard was the lot of the excellent woman that bore him! But much harder the hap of your poor Pamela, who has fallen into the power of such a man. But yet I will trust in God, and hope the best; and lay down my tired pen for this time.
THURSDAY Morning
Somebody rapped at our chamber-door this morning as soon as it was light: Mrs Jewkes asked who it was? My master said, ‘Open the door, Mrs Jewkes!’ ‘O,’ said I, ‘for Heaven’s sake, Mrs Jewkes, don’t!’ ‘Indeed,’ said she, ‘but I must.’ ‘Then,’ said I, and clung about her, ‘let me slip on my clothes first.’ But he rapped again, and she broke from me; and I, in terror, folded myself in the bedclothes. He entered, full dressed, and very richly,195 and said, ‘So fearful, Pamela, after what passed yesterday between us!’ ‘O sir, sir!’ said I, ‘I fear my prayers have wanted their wished effect. I beseech you, sir – ’ He interrupted me, ‘No need of your foolish fears. I shall say but a word or two, and go away.’
‘After you went up-stairs,’ said he, (sitting down by the bedside) ‘I had an invitation to a ball, which is to be this night at Stamford, on occasion of a wedding; and I am going to call on Sir Simon, and his lady and daughters; for the bride is a relation of theirs: so I shall not be at home till Saturday. I come therefore to caution you, Mrs Jewkes, before Pamela, (that she may not wonder at being more closely confined, than for these three or four days past) that nobody sees her, or delivers any letter to her in that space; for a person has been observed lurking about, and inquiring after her; and I have been well informed, that either Mrs Jervis, or Mr Longman, has written a letter, with a design of having it conveyed to her: and,’ said he, ‘you must know, Pamela, that I have ordered Mr Longman to make up his accounts, and have dismissed Jonathan, and Mrs Jervis, since I have been here; for their behaviour has been intolerable, and they have mad
e such a breach between my sister Davers and me, as we shall never, perhaps, make up. Now, Pamela, I shall take it kindly, if you will confine yourself to your chamber pretty much for the time I am absent, and not give Mrs Jewkes cause of trouble or uneasiness; and the rather, as you know she acts by my orders.’
‘Alas! sir,’ said I, ‘I fear all these good people have suffered on my account!’ ‘They have,’ said he, ‘for their impertinence in your favour. Never was there a girl of your station and degree, who set a large family in such a ferment, as you have done mine, by their cares for you. But let that pass. You know both of you my pleasure; and, in part, the reason of it. I shall only say, that I have had such a letter from my sister, as I could not have expected; and Pamela,’ said he, ‘neither you nor I have reason to thank her, as you shall know, perhaps, at my return. Let all the gates be fastened; nor let any body go to the gate, without you, Mrs Jewkes.’ ‘I’ll be sure,’ said she, ‘to obey your honour.’ ‘I will give Mrs Jewkes no trouble, sir,’ said I, ‘and will keep pretty much in my chamber, and not stir so much as into the garden without her; to shew you I will obey in every thing I can. But I begin to fear–’ ‘Ay,’ said he, ‘more plots and contrivances, don’t you? But I’ll assure you, you never had less reason; and I tell you the truth; for I am really going to Stamford this time; and upon the occasion I tell you. And so, Pamela, give me your hand, and one kiss, and then I am gone.’
I durst not refuse.
He and Mrs Jewkes had a little talk without the door; and I heard her say, ‘You may depend, sir, upon my care and vigilance.’
He went in his coach, very richly dressed, as I mentioned, which looks as if what he said was true: but I have been used to so many tricks, and plots, and surprizes, that I know not what to think. But I mourn for poor Mrs Jervis.
So here is Mr Williams; here is poor wicked John; here is good Mrs Jervis, and Mr Longman, and Mr Jonathan, turned away for me! Mr Longman is rich indeed, and so need the less matter it; but I know it will grieve him: and for poor Mr Jonathan, I am sure it will cut that good old servant to the heart. Alas for me! What mischiefs am I the occasion of? Or, rather, my master, whose actions towards me, have made so many of my kind friends forfeit his favour!
I am very sad about these things: if he really loved me, methinks he should not be so angry that his servants loved me too. I know not what to think.
FRIDAY Night
I have removed my papers from under the rose-bush; for I saw the gardener begin to dig near that spot; and I was afraid he would find them.
Mrs Jewkes and I were this morning looking through the iron gate that fronts the elms, and a gypsey-like woman made up to us, and said, ‘If, madam, you will give me some broken victuals, I will tell you both your fortunes.’ I said, ‘Let us hear our fortunes, Mrs Jewkes.’ ‘I don’t like these sort of people,’ said she; ‘but we will hear what she will say to us, however. I shan’t fetch you any victuals, woman; but I will give you some pence.’ But Nan coming out, she said, ‘Fetch some bread, and some of the cold meat, and you shall have your fortune told, Nan.’
This, you’ll think, like some of my other matters, a very trifling thing to write about. But, mark the discovery of a dreadful plot, which I have made by it. What can I think of this wicked, this very wicked man! Now will I hate him most heartily. Thus it was:
Mrs Jewkes had no suspicion of the woman, the iron gate being locked, and she on the outside, and we on the inside; and so put her hand through, to be told her fortune. The woman, muttering over a parcel of cramp196 words, said, ‘Why, madam, you will marry soon, I can tell you.’ Mrs Jewkes seemed pleased, and said, ‘I am glad to hear that’; and shook her fat sides with laughing. The woman looked most earnestly at me all the time, as if she had meaning. Then it came into my head, from my master’s caution, that possibly this woman might be employed to try to get a letter into my hands; and I was resolved to watch all her motions. ‘What sort of a man shall I have, pray?’ said Mrs Jewkes. ‘A man younger than yourself,’ answered the woman, ‘and a very good husband he’ll prove.’ ‘I am glad of that,’ said she, and laughed again. ‘Come, Mrs Pamela, let us hear your fortune.’
The woman came to me, and took my hand. ‘O!’ said she, ‘I can’t tell your fortune: your hand is so white and fine, I cannot see the lines: but,’ said she, and, stooping, pulled up a little tuft of grass, ‘I have a way for that’; and so rubbed my hand with the mould part of the tuft. ‘Now,’ I said she, ‘I can see the lines.’
Mrs Jewkes was very watchful of all her ways, and took the tuft, and looked upon it, lest any thing should be in that. And then the woman said, ‘Here is the line of Jupiter crossing the line of life; and Mars – Odd, my pretty mistress,’ said she, ‘you had best take care of yourself; for you are hard beset, I’ll assure you. You will never be married, I can see; and will the of your first child.’ ‘Out upon thee, woman!’ said I; ‘better thou hadst never come hither!’
‘I don’t like this,’ said Mrs Jewkes, whispering. ‘It looks like a cheat: pray, Mrs Pamela, go in this moment.’ ‘So I will,’ said I; ‘for I have enough of fortune-telling.’
The woman was very desirous to tell me more; which added to Mrs Jewkes’s suspicions. She threatened her: and away went the woman, having told Nan her fortune, that she would be drowned.
This thing ran strongly in all our heads; and we went, an hour after, to see if the woman was lurking about, and took Monsieur Colbrand for our guard. Looking through the iron gate, he ’spied a man sauntering about the middle of the walk; which filled Mrs Jewkes with still stronger suspicions: and she said, ‘Mr Colbrand, you and I will walk towards this fellow, and enquire what he saunters there for; and, Nan, do you and Mrs Pamela stay at the gate.’
Then opening the iron gate, they walked down towards the man; and I, guessing that the woman, if employed, must mean something by the tuft of grass, cast my eyes towards the spot whence she pulled it, and saw more grass pulled up, and in a little heap: then I doubted not something was there for me; so I walked to it, and standing between that and Nan, ‘The wild flower,’ said I, ‘that grows yonder near that elm, the fifth from us on the left, is a very pretty one; pray pluck it for me.’ ‘It is a common weed,’ answered she. ‘No matter,’ replied I; ‘pray fetch it for me: there are beautiful colours in some weeds.’
She went from me to fetch it, and the moment she turned her back, I stooped, and pulled up a good handful of the grass, and in it a bit of paper, which I put instantly into my bosom, dropping the grass, my heart fluttering at the odd adventure! I then would have gone in; but the maid desired me to stay till Mrs Jewkes returned.
I was all impatience to read this paper. And when Colbrand and she came back, ‘Certainly,’ said she, ‘there is some reason for my master’s caution: I can make nothing of this sauntering fellow; but, to be sure, there was some roguery in the gypsey.’ ‘Well,’ said I, ‘if there was, she lost her aim, you see!’ ‘Ay, very true,’ said she; ‘but that was owing to my watchfulness; and you was very good to go away when I spoke to you.’
When we came in, I hasted up stairs to my closet, and found the billet to contain, in a hand that seemed disguised, and the spelling bad, the following words:
‘Twenty contrivances have been thought of to let you know your danger; but all have proved in vain. Your friends hope it is not yet too late to give you this caution, if this paper reaches your hands. Mr B. is absolutely determined upon your ruin: and because he despairs of effecting it any other way, he will pretend great love and kindness to you, and that he will marry you. You may expect a parson for this purpose in a few days, or rather a man in a parson’s habit; but who is indeed a sly, artful fellow, a broken197 attorney, whom he has hired to personate a minister. The man has a broad face, pitted much with the small-pox. So take care of yourself. Doubt not this advice. Perhaps you’ll have had but too much reason already to confirm you in the truth of it. From your zealous well-wisher,
SOMEBODY.’
Now, m
y dear father and mother, what shall we say of this truly diabolical master! How shall I find words to express my griefs! And here too, I have as good as confessed that I love him! But I will break this forward heart of mine, if it will not be taught to hate him! What a plot is here laid to ruin me, and by my own consent too! No wonder he did not improve his wicked opportunities, when he had such a project as this in reserve! How dreadful must have been my condition, when I had found myself a guilty harlot, instead of a lawful wife! This is indeed too much, too much for your poor Pamela! And as I hoped all the worst was over, and that I had the pleasure of beholding a reclaimed gentleman, and not an abandoned libertine. What now must your poor daughter do! O the wretched, wretched Pamela!
SATURDAY Noon, One o’ Clock
My master is come home, and to be sure, has been where he said. So once he has told truth; and this matter seems to be gone off without a plot: no doubt he depends upon this sham-marriage! He has brought a gentleman with him to dinner; and so I have not seen him yet.
Two o’ Clock
I am very sorrowful, and have a new reason to be so; for just now, as I was in my closet, busied in opening the parcel I had hid under the rose-bush, to see if it was damaged by lying so long, who but Mrs Jewkes should come upon me by surprize! She immediately laid her hands upon it: for she had been looking through the keyhole, it seems.
I know not what I shall do! For now he will see all my private thoughts of him, and all the secrets of my heart. What a careless creature am I!
You know I had the good luck, by Mr Williams’s means, to send you all my papers down to Sunday night, the 17th day of my imprisonment. But now these papers contain all my matters, from that rime, to Wednesday the 27th day of my distress: as you may now, perhaps, never see them, I will briefly mention their contents.