Complete Fictional Works of Henry Fielding

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by Henry Fielding


  Madam,

  I Received the Favour of your Letter, and I find you have not forgot your usual Poluteness, which you learned when you was in keeping with a Lord.

  I am very much obliged to you for your Care of my Daughter, am glad to hear she hath taken such good Resolutions, and hope she will have sufficient Grace to maintain them.

  All Friends are well, and remember to you. You will excuse the Shortness of this Scroll; for I have Sprained my right Hand, with boxing three new made Officers. — Tho’ to my Comfort, I beat them all. I rest,

  Your Friend and Servant,

  Henrietta, &c.

  LETTER IX. Shamela Andrews to Henrietta Maria Honora Andrews.

  Dear Mamma,

  I Suppose Mrs. Jervis acquainted you with what past ‘till I left Bedfordshire; whence I am after a very pleasant Journey arrived in Lincolnshire, with your old Acquaintance Mrs. Jewkes, who formerly helped Parson Williams to me; and now designs I see, to sell me to my Master; thank her for that; she will find two Words go to that Bargain.

  The Day after my Arrival here, I received a Letter from Mr. Williams, and as you have often desired to see one from him, I have inclosed it to you; it is, I think, the finest I ever received from that charming Man, and full of a great deal of Learning.

  O! What a brave Thing it is to be a Schollard, and to be able to talk Latin.

  Parson Williams to Pamela Andrews.

  Mrs. Pamela,

  Having learnt by means of my Clerk, who Yesternight visited the Revd. Mr. Peters with my Commands, that you are returned into this County, I purposed to have saluted your fair Hands this Day towards Even: But am obliged to sojourn this Night at a neighbouring Clergyman’s; where we are to pierce a Virgin Barrel of Ale, in a Cup of which I shall not be unmindful to celebrate your Health.

  I hope you have remembered your Promise, to bring me a leaden Canister of Tobacco (the Saffron Cut) for in Troth, this Country at present affords nothing worthy the replenishing a Tube with. —— Some I tasted, the other Day at an Alehouse, gave me the Heart-Burn, tho’ I filled no oftner than five times.

  I was greatly concerned to learn, that your late Lady left you nothing, tho’ I cannot say the Tidings much surprized me: For I am too intimately acquainted with the Family; (myself, Father, and Grandfather having been successive Incumbents on the same Cure, which you know is in their Gift) I say, I am too well acquainted with them to expect much from their Generosity. They are in Verity, as worthless a Family as any other whatever. The young Gentleman I am informed, is a perfect Reprobate that he hath an Ingenium Versatile to every Species of Vice, which, indeed, no one can much wonder at, who animadverts on that want of Respect to the Clergy, which was observable in him when a Child, I remember when he was at the Age of Eleven only, he met my Father without either pulling off his Hat, or riding out of the way. Indeed, a Contempt of the Clergy is the fashionable Vice of the Times; but let such Wretches know, they cannot hate, detest, and despise us, half so much as we do them.

  However, I have prevailed on myself to write a civil Letter to your Master, as there is a Probability of his being shortly in a Capacity of rendring me a Piece of Service; my good Friend and Neighbour the Revd. Mr. Squeeze-Tithe being, as I am informed by one whom I have employed to attend for that Purpose, very near his Dissolution.

  You see, sweet Mrs. Pamela, the Confidence with which I dictate these Things to you; whom after those Endearments which have passed between us, I must in some Respects estimate as my Wife: For tho’ the Omission of the Service was a Sin; yet, as I have told you, it was a venial One, of which I have truly repented, as I hope you have; and also that you have continued the wholsome Office of reading good Books, and are improved in your Psalmody, of which I shall have a speedy Trial: For I purpose to give you a Sermon next Sunday, and shall spend the Evening with you, in Pleasures, which tho’ not strictly innocent, are however to be purged away by frequent and sincere Repentance. I am,

  Sweet Mrs. Pamela,

  Your faithful Servant,

  Arthur Williams.

  You find, Mamma, what a charming way he hath of Writing, and yet I assure you, that is not the most charming thing belonging to him: For, tho’ he doth not put any Dears, and Sweets, and Loves into his Letters, yet he says a thousand of them: For he can be as fond of a Woman, as any Man living.

  Sure Women are great Fools, when they prefer a laced Coat to the Clergy, whom it is our Duty to honour and respect.

  Well, on Sunday Parson Williams came, according to his Promise, and an excellent Sermon he preached; his Text was, Be not Righteous over much; and, indeed, he handled it in a very fine way; he shewed us that the Bible doth not require too much Goodness of us, and that People very often call things Goodness that are not so. That to go to Church, and to pray, and to sing Psalms, and to honour the Clergy, and to repent, is true Religion; and ‘tis not doing good to one another, for that is one of the greatest Sins we can commit, when we don’t do it for the sake of Religion. That those People who talk of Vartue and Morality, are the wickedest of all Persons. That ‘tis not what we do, but what we believe, that must save us, and a great many other good Things; I wish I could remember them all.

  As soon as Church was over, he came to the Squire’s House, and drank Tea with Mrs. Jewkes and me; after which Mrs. Jewkes went out and left us together for an Hour and half — Oh! he is a charming Man.

  After Supper he went Home, and then Mrs. Jewkes began to catechize me, about my Familiarity with him. I see she wants him herself. Then she proceeded to tell me what an Honour my Master did me in liking me, and that it was both an inexcusable Folly and Pride in me, to pretend to refuse him any Favour. Pray, Madam, says I, consider I am a poor Girl, and have nothing but my Modesty to trust to. If I part with that, what will become of me. Methinks, says she, you are not so mighty modest when you are with Parson Williams; I have observed you gloat at one another, in a Manner that hath made me blush. I assure you, I shall let the Squire know what sort of Man he is; you may do your Will, says I, as long as he hath a Vote for Pallamant-Men, the Squire dares do nothing to offend him; and you will only shew that you are jealous of him, and that’s all. How now, Mynx, says she; Mynx! No more Mynx than yourself, says I; with that she hit me a Slap on the Shoulder; and I flew at her and scratched her Face, i’cod, ‘till she went crying out of the Room; so no more at present, from

  Your Dutiful Daughter,

  Shamela.

  LETTER X. Shamela Andrews to Henrietta Maria Honora Andrews.

  O Mamma! Rare News! As soon as I was up this Morning, a Letter was brought me from the Squire, of which I send you a Copy.

  Squire Booby to Pamela.

  Dear Creature,

  I hope you are not angry with me for the Deceit put upon you, in conveying you to Lincolnshire, when you imagined yourself going to London. Indeed, my dear Pamela, I cannot live without you; and will very shortly come down and convince you, that my Designs are better than you imagine, and such as you may with Honour comply with. I am,

  My Dear Creature,

  Your doating Lover,

  Booby.

  * * *

  Now, Mamma, what think you? —— For my own Part, I am convinced he will marry me, and faith so he shall. O! Bless me! I shall be Mrs. Booby and be Mistress of a great Estate, and have a dozen Coaches and Six, and a fine House at London, and another at Bath, and Servants, and Jewels, and Plate, and go to Plays, and Opera’s, and Court; and do what I will, and spend what I will. But, poor Parson Williams! Well; and can’t I see Parson Williams, as well after Marriage as before: For I shall never care a Farthing for my Husband. No, I hate and despise him of all Things.

  Well, as soon as I had read my Letter, in came Mrs. Jewkes. You see, Madam, says she, I carry the Marks of your Passion about me; but I have received order from my Master to be civil to you, and I must obey him: For he is the best Man in the World, notwithstanding your Treatment of him. My Treatment of him, Madam, says I? Yes, says she, your Insensibility to the Hon
our he intends you, of making you his Mistress. I would have you to know, Madam, I would not be Mistress to the greatest King, no nor Lord in the Universe. I value my Vartue more than I do any thing my Master can give me; and so we talked a full Hour and a half, about my Vartue; and I was afraid at first, she had heard something about the Bantling, but I find she hath not; tho’ she is as jealous, and suspicious, as old Scratch.

  In the Afternoon, I stole into the Garden to meet Mr. Williams; I found him at the Place of his Appointment, and we staid in a kind of Arbour, till it was quite dark. He was very angry when I told him what Mrs. Jewkes had threatned —— Let him refuse me the Living, says he, if he dares, I will vote for the other Party; and not only so, but will expose him all over the Country. I owe him 150l. indeed, but I don’t care for that; by that time the Election is past, I shall be able to plead the Statue of Lamentations.

  I could have stayed with the dear Man forever, but when it grew dark, he told me, he was to meet the neighbouring Clergy, to finish the Barrel of Ale they had tapped the other Day, and believed they should not part till three or four in the Morning —— So he left me, and I promised to be penitent, and go on with my reading in good Books.

  As soon as he was gone, I bethought myself, what Excuse I should make to Mrs. Jewkes, and it came into my Head to pretend as how I intended to drown myself; so I stript off one of my Petticoats, and threw it into the Canal; and then I went and hid myself in the Coal-hole, where I lay all Night; and comforted myself with repeating over some Psalms, and other good things, which I had got by heart.

  In the Morning Mrs. Jewkes and all the Servants were frighted out of their Wits, thinking I had run away; and not devising how they should answer it to their Master. They searched all the likeliest Places they could think of for me, and at last saw my Petticoat floating in the Pond. Then they got a Drag-Net, imagining I was drowned, and intending to drag me out; but at last Moll Cook coming for some Coals, discovered me lying all along in no very good Pickle. Bless me! Mrs. Pamela, says she, what can be the Meaning of this? I don’t know, says I, help me up, and I will go in to Breakfast, for indeed I am very hungry. Mrs. Jewkes came in immediately, and was so rejoyced to find me alive, that she asked with great Good-Humour, where I had been? and how my Petticoat came into the Pond. I answered, I believed the Devil had put it into my Head to drown my self; but it was a Fib; for I never saw the Devil in my Life, nor I don’t believe he hath any thing to do with me.

  So much for this Matter. As soon as I had breakfasted, a Coach and Six came to the Door, and who should be in it but my Master.

  I immediately run up into my Room, and stript, and washed, and drest my self as well as I could, and put on my prettiest round-ear’d Cap, and pulled down my Stays, to shew as much as I could of my Bosom, (for Parson Williams says that is the most beautiful part of a Woman) and then I practised over all my Airs before the Glass, and then I sat down and read a Chapter in the Whole Duty of Man.

  Then Mrs. Jewkes came to me and told me, my Master wanted me below, and says she, Don’t behave like a Fool; No, thinks I to my self, I believe I shall find Wit enough for my Master and you too.

  So down goes me I into the Parlour to him. Pamela, says he, the Moment I came in, you see I cannot stay long from you, which I think is a sufficient Proof of the Violence of my Passion. Yes, Sir, says I, I see your Honour intends to ruin me, that nothing but the Destruction of my Vartue will content you.

  O what a charming Word that is, rest his Soul who first invented it.

  How can you say I would ruin you, answered the Squire, when you shall not ask any thing which I will not grant you. If that be true, says I, good your Honour let me go home to my poor but honest Parents; that is all I have to ask, and do not ruin a poor Maiden, who is resolved to carry her Vartue to the Grave with her.

  Hussy, says he, don’t provoke me, don’t provoke me, I say. You are absolutely in my power, and if you won’t let me lie with you by fair Means, I will by Force. O la, Sir, says I, I don’t understand your paw Words. —— Very pretty Treatment indeed, says he, to say I use paw Words; Hussy, Gipsie, Hypocrite, Saucebox, Boldface, get out of my Sight, or I will lend you such a Kick in the —— I don’t care to repeat the Word, but he meant my hinder part. I was offering to go away, for I was half afraid, when he called me back, and took me round the Neck and kissed me, and then bid me go about my Business.

  I went directly into my Room, where Mrs. Jewkes came to me soon afterwards. So Madam, says she, you have left my Master below in a fine Pet, he hath threshed two or three of his Men already: It is might pretty that all his Servants are to be punished for your Impertinence.

  Harkee, Madam, says I, don’t you affront me, for if you do, d — n me (I am sure I have repented for using such a Word) if I am not revenged.

  How sweet is Revenge: Sure the Sermon Book is in the Right, in calling it the sweetest Morsel the Devil ever dropped into the Mouth of a Sinner.

  Mrs. Jewkes remembered the Smart of my Nails too well to go farther, and so we sat down and talked about my Vartue till Dinner-time, and then I was sent for to wait on my Master. I took care to be often caught looking at him, and then I always turn’d away my Eyes, and pretended to be ashamed. As soon as the Cloth was removed, he put a Bumper of Champagne into my Hand, and bid me drink —— O la I can’t name the Health. Parson Williams may well say he is a wicked Man.

  Mrs. Jewkes took a Glass and drank the dear Monysyllable; I don’t understand that Word, but I believe it is baudy. I then drank towards his Honour’s good Pleasure. Ay, Hussy, says he, you can give me Pleasure if you will; Sir, says I, I shall be always glad to do what is in my power, and so I pretended not to know what he meant. Then he took me into his Lap. — O Mamma, I could tell you something if I would — and he kissed me —— and I said I won’t be slobber’d about so, so I won’t; and he bid me get out of the Room for a saucy Baggage, and said he had a good mind to spit in my Face.

  Sure no Man over took such a Method to gain a Woman’s Heart.

  I had not been long in my Chamber before Mrs. Jewkes came to me, and told me, my Master would not see me any more that Evening, that is, if he can help it; for, added she, I easily perceive the great Ascendant you have over him, and to confess the Truth, I don’t doubt but you will shortly be my Mistress.

  What says I, dear Mrs. Jewkes, what do you say? Don’t flatter a poor Girl, it is impossible his Honour can have any honourable Design upon me. And so we talked of honourable Designs till Supper-time. And Mrs. Jewkes and I supped together upon a hot buttered Apple-Pie; and about ten o’Clock we went to Bed.

  We had not been a Bed half an Hour, when my Master came pit a pat into the Room in his Shirt as before. I pretended not to hear him, and Mrs. Jewkes laid hold of one Arm, and he pulled down the Bed cloaths and came into Bed on the other Side, and took my other Arm and laid it under him, and fell a kissing one of my Breasts as if he would have devoured it; I was then forced to awake, and began to struggle with him, Mrs. Jewkes crying why don’t you do it? I have one Arm secure, if you can’t deal with the rest I am sorry for you. He was as rude as possible to me; but I remembered, Mamma, the Instructions you gave me to avoid being ravished, and followed them, which soon brought him to Terms, and he promised me, on quitting my hold, that he would leave the Bed.

  O Parson Williams, how little are all the Men in the World compared to thee.

  My Master was as good as his Word; upon which Mrs. Jewkes said, O Sir, I see you know very little of our Sect, by parting so easily from the Blessing when you was so near it. No, Mrs. Jewkes, answered he, I am very glad no more hath happened, I would not have injured Pamela for the World. And to-morrow Morning perhaps she may hear of something to her Advantage. This she may be certain of, that I will never take her by Force, and then he left the Room.

  What think you now, Mrs. Pamela, says Mrs. Jewkes, are you not yet persuaded my Master hath honourable Designs? I think he hath given no great Proof of them to-night, said I. Your Experience I find is not gr
eat, says she, but I am convinced you will shortly be my Mistress, and then what will become of poor me.

  With such sort of Discourse we both fell asleep. Next Morning early my Master sent for me, and after kissing me, gave a Paper into my Hand which he bid me read; I did so, and found it to be a Proposal for settling 250l. a Year on me, besides several other advantagious Offers, as Presents of Money and other things. Well, Pamela, said he, what Answer do you make me to this. Sir, said I, I value my Vartue more than all the World, and I had rather be the poorest Man’s Wife, than the richest Man’s Whore. You are a Simpleton, said he; That may be, and yet I may have as much Wit as some Folks, cry’d I; meaning me, I suppose, said he, every Man knows himself best, says I. Hussy, says he, get out of the Room, and let me see your saucy Face no more, for I find I am in more Danger than you are, and therefore it shall be my Business to avoid you as much as I can; and it shall be mine, thinks I, at every turn to throw my self in your way. So I went out, and as I parted, I heard him sigh and say he was bewitched.

  Mrs. Jewkes hath been with me since, and she assures me she is convinced I shall shortly be Mistress of the Family, and she really behaves to me, as if she already thought me so. I am resolved now to aim at it. I thought once of making a little Fortune by my Person. I now intend to make a great one by my Vartue. So asking Pardon for this long Scroll, I am,

  Your dutiful Daughter,

  Shamela.

  LETTER XI. Henrietta Maria Honora Andrews to Shamela Andrews.

  Dear Sham,

  I Received your last Letter with infinite Pleasure, and am convinced it will be your own Fault if you are not married to your Master, and I would advise you now to take no less Terms. But, my dear Child, I am afraid of one Rock only, That Parson Williams, I wish he was out of the Way. A Woman never commits Folly but with such Sort of Men, as by many Hints in the Letters I collect him to be: but, consider my dear Child, you will hereafter have Opportunities sufficient to indulge yourself with Parson Williams, or any other you like. My Advice therefore to you is, that you would avoid seeing him any more till the Knot is tied. Remember the first Lesson I taught you, that a married Woman injures only her Husband, but a single Woman herself. I am in hopes of seeing you a great Lady,

 

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