Pamela

by Samuel Richardson

  Well, he is kinder and kinder, and, thank God, purely recovered! How charmingly he looks, to what he did yesterday!

  He arose as I entered the room, and, taking my hand, would make me sit down by him. ‘My charming girl,’ said he, ‘seemed going to speak: what would she say?’ ‘Sir,’ said I, (a little dashed226 at his distinguishing favour) ‘is it not too great an honour for me to attend you in the chariot?’ ‘No, my dear Pamela,’ said he; ‘your company will give me greater pleasure, than mine can give you honour; so say no more on that head.’

  ‘But, sir,’ said I, ‘as to my appearance’; and I looked on my dress. ‘I find no fault with your appearance, as you call it: and you look so pretty, that if you shall not catch cold, in that round-eared cap, you shall go just as you are.’ ‘Then, sir, you’ll be pleased to go a by-way, that it mayn’t be seen you do so much honour.’ ‘O my good girl,’ interrupted he, ‘I doubt you are more afraid of your own reputation, than of mine! But I intend by degrees to take off the world’s wonder, and to teach them to expect what is to follow, as a due to my Pamela.’

  O my dear father and mother! Did I not do well now to come back! And, now, could I get rid of my fears of this sham-marriage (for all this is not yet inconsistent with that frightful scheme) I should be too happy.

  I withdrew (blushing, pleased, transported,) to fetch my gloves; and now do I wait his kind commands.

  Dear, dear good sir! for God’s sake, let me have no reverses, no more trials! for such, I verily think, I could not now bear!

  O my dear father, I fear you will be apprehensive for the head, or at least for the humility, of your girl, when you shall read what I have to relate to you of what passed in this charming airing.

  He handed me into the chariot before all the servants, as if I had been a lady! And I had the pleasure to hear one of the servants say to another, ‘They are a charming pair! ’Tis pity they should be parted!’

  He ordered dinner to be ready by two; and Abraham, who succeeds John, went behind the chariot. He bid Robin drive gently, and told me he wanted to talk to me about his sister Davers, and other matters. Indeed, at first setting out, he kissed me a little too often, that he did; and I was afraid of Robin’s looking back, through the fore glass,227 and of people seeing us as they passed; but he was exceedingly kind to me, in his words, as well. At last, he said, ‘You have, I doubt not, read over and over, my sister’s letter. You see she intimates in it, that some people had been with her; and who should they be but Mrs Jervis, and Mr Longman, and Jonathan! The knowledge of this, their bold officiousness, has laid me under the necessity of dismissing them from my service. I see,’ said he, ‘you are going to speak in their favour; but your time is not come to do that, if ever I shall permit it.

  ‘As to Lady Davers, who threatens to renounce me, I have been beforehand with her; for I have renounced her. I have been a kind brother to her. When I entered upon my estate, I gave up pretensions to a considerable value, contrary to her own and to her lord’s expectations, by way of present to her. She was surely beside herself when she wrote me such a letter; for well she knew that I would not bear it. But you must know, Pamela, that she is much incensed, that I will not give ear to a proposal of hers, of a daughter of a certain noble lord, who indeed wants not merit; and who probably might have attracted my regards, had I not had a dislike to marriage, and a girl in my view; with whom I hoped to live upon my own terms. Don’t tell me, Pamela, by your blushes, that you know who the girl is. Be satisfied with this assurance’ (for I was going to speak) ‘that I have at present views quite different from those, which this girl had once reason to be apprehensive of. And yet, to be sincere, I must own, that the certainty there will be, that I shall incur the censures of the world, if I act up to my present intentions, still, at times, gives me thoughts not altogether favourable to those intentions. For it will be said by every one, that Mr B. a man not destitute of pride, a man of family, and ample fortunes, has been drawn in by the eye, to marry his mother’s waiting-maid. Not considering, and not knowing, perhaps, that to her mind, to her virtue, as well as to the beauties of her person, she owes her well-deserved conquest: and that (as I firmly trust will be the case) there is not a lady in the kingdom who will better support the condition to which she will be raised, if I should marry her. And,’ generously added he, putting his arm round me, ‘I pity my dear girl too, for her part in this censure; for here will she have to combat the pride and slights of the neighbouring gentry all around us. Lady Davers, you see, will never be reconciled to you. The other ladies will not visit you; and you will, with a merit superior to them all, be treated as if unworthy their notice. Should I now marry my Pamela, how will my girl relish all this? Will not these be cutting things to my fair one, to whom the condition you will then be raised to, will have given some pride? And some pride I would have it give you: you have now, my Pamela, a dignity that seems natural to your person. As to myself, sensible as I am beforehand, of what the world will say, I shall have nothing to do, when it is done, but to brazen out the matter, of my former pleasantry on this subject, with my companions; stand their rude jests for once or twice, and my fortune will create me always respect enough. But, I say, what will my poor girl do, as to her part? For the ladies will shun your acquaintance. What says my girl to this?’

  You may well guess, my dear father and mother, how transporting to me these generous and condescending expressions were! ‘O sir,’ said I, ‘how inexpressibly kind and good is all this! Your poor servant has a much greater difficulty than this to overcome.’

  ‘What is that?’ said he, a little impatiently: ‘I will not forgive your doubts now.’ ‘No, sir,’ said I, ‘I cannot doubt; but it is, how I shall support, how I shall deserve, YOUR goodness to me!’ ‘Dear girl!’ said he, and pressed me to his bosom, ‘I was afraid you would again have given me reason to think you had doubts of my honour. And this, at a time when I was pouring out my whole soul to you with a true and affectionate ardour, I could not so easily have forgiven: and yet I have been so much obliged by your chearful return to a house you had reason to detest, that I should have been very sorry to have had cause given me to be angry with you, whatever you had said.’

  ‘But, good sir,’ said I, ‘my greatest concern will be for the rude jests you will have yourself to encounter with, for thus stooping beneath yourself. For as to me, considering my low birth, and little merit, even the slights and reflections of the ladies will be an honour to me: and I shall have the pride to place more than half their ill-will to their envying my happiness. And if I can, by my chearful duty, and grateful behaviour, render myself worthy of the continuance of your affection, I shall think myself but too happy, let the world say what it will.’

  ‘You are very good, my dearest girl,’ said he. ‘But how will you bestow your time, when you will have no visits to receive or pay? No parties of pleasure to join in? No card-tables to employ your winter evenings, and even, as the taste is, half the day, summer and winter?

  ‘My mother, I know, in order to amuse herself, instructed you how to take part in those diversions, as well as in others: and I assure my girl, that I shall not desire you to live without such amusements as my wife might expect, had you been a woman of the first quality.’

  ‘How, sir, shall I bear your goodness! But do you think, in such a family as yours, a person whom you shall honour with the rank of mistress of it, will not find useful employments for her time, without looking abroad for any others?

  ‘In the first place, sir, if you will give me leave, I will myself look into all such parts of the family management, as may befit the mistress of it to inspect: and this I shall hope to do in such a manner, as not to incur the ill-will of any honest servant.

  ‘Then, sir, I will ease you of as much of your family accounts, as I possibly can: you know, sir, my late good lady made me her treasurer, her almoner, and everything; and I will apply myself to learn what I may be defective in, to enable me to be a little useful to you, sir, in this
particular.

  ‘Then, sir, if I must needs be visiting or visited, and the ladies will not honour me so much, or even if they would now-and-then, I will visit, if your goodness will allow me so to do, the unhappy poor in the neighbourhood around you; and administer to their wants and necessities, in such small matters as may not be hurtful to your estate, but comforting to them; and entail upon you their blessings, and their prayers for your health and welfare.

  ‘Then I will assist your housekeeper, as I used to do, in the making jellies, comfits,228 sweetmeats, marmalades, cordials; and to pot, and candy, and preserve, for the uses of the family; and to make myself all the fine linen of it, for yourself and me.

  ‘Then, sir, if you will indulge me with your company, I will take an airing in your chariot now-and-then: and when you return from your diversions, I shall have the pleasure of receiving you with chearful duty; as I shall have counted the moments of your absence. And I have no doubt of so behaving, as to engage you frequently to fill up some part of my time (the sweetest by far that will be) in your instructive conversation.’

  ‘Proceed, my dear girl,’ said he, ‘I love to hear you talk.’229’The breakfasting-time, sir, the preparation for dinner, and some times to entertain your chosen friends, and the company you shall bring home with you, gentlemen, if not ladies, and the supperings, will fill up a great part of the day, in a very necessary manner.

  ‘Possibly, sir, a good-humoured lady will now-and-then drop in; and if so, I hope to behave myself in such a manner, as not to add to the disgrace you will have brought upon yourself: for indeed, I will be very circumspect, and try to be as discreet as I can; and as humble too, as shall be consistent with your honour.’

  Generously pleased with my prattle, he again bid me talk on.230

  ‘Cards, ’tis true, I can play at, in all the games that our sex usually delight in: but they are a diversion that I am not fond of; nor shall I ever desire to play, unless to induce such ladies, as you may wish to see, not to shun your house, for want of an amusement they are accustomed to.

  ‘Music, which my good lady also had me instructed in, will fill up some intervals, if I should have any.

  ‘Then, sir, you know, I love reading and scribbling; and though most of the latter will be employed in the family accounts, yet reading, at proper times, and in proper books, will be a pleasure to me, which I shall be unwilling to give up for the best company in the world, when I cannot have yours. Besides, sir, will not books help to polish my mind, and make me worthier of your company and conversation? And when I am at a loss to understand any thing I read, what a delightful instructor shall I have, if you will permit me to have recourse to you? And till you have time or inclination to instruct me, I can put down in a pocket-book the words and things I shall not know the meaning of.

  ‘But one thing, sir, I ought not to forget, because it is the chief: my duty to God, and my prayers for you and for myself, will always employ some good portion of my time: for myself particularly, that I may be enabled to discharge my duty to you, and be found grateful for all the blessings I shall receive at the hands of Providence, by means of your generosity and condescension.

  ‘With all this, sir, can you think I shall be at a loss to pass my time? But, as I know that every slight to me, if I come to be so happy, will be, in part, a slight to you, I will beg of you, sir, not to let me go very fine in dress; but appear only so, as that I may not be a disgrace to you, after the honour you shall have done me, in giving me a title to be called by your worthy name: for, sir, I humbly apprehend, that nothing so much excites the envy of my own sex, as seeing a person set above them in appearance. And if this plainness in apparel be known to be in compliance to my own choice and wishes, it will be a credit, sir, to your condescension, and save me many mortifications. If I am not gorgeous in my dress, this I promise you, sir, I will be always neat, and fit to be seen by you; and if by you, by any body you shall bring home with you. And I have heard my lady say, that gentlemen of taste are more pleased with intrinsic neatness, than with outward ornament.’

  Here I stopped; for I had prattled a great deal; and he said, clasping me to him, ‘Why stops my Pamela? Why does she not proceed? I could dwell upon your words all the day long. You shall be the directress of your own pleasures, and of your own time, so sweetly do you chuse to employ it: and then shall I find some of my own bad actions atoned for by your exemplary goodness, and God will bless me for your sake.’

  I could not speak for joy; and he was pleased to proceed, ‘What delight do you give me, my beloved Pamela, in this sweet foretaste of my happiness! I will now defy the saucy, busy censures of the world; and bid them know your excellence, and my happiness, before they, with unhallowed lips, presume to judge of my actions, and your merit! And let me tell you, my dearest girl, that I can add to your agreeable enumeration my hopes of a still more pleasing amusement for you, though it is what your bashfulness would not permit you to hint at; and which I will now no further touch upon (lest it should seem, to your nicety, to detract from the present purity of my good intentions) than to say – I hope you will have, superadded to all these, such an employment, as will give me a view of perpetuating my happy prospects, and my family at the same time; of which I am almost the only one, in a direct line.’

  If I did blush, it was impossible so much as to look displeased, such was the charming manner with which he insinuated this distant hope.

  Imagine, my dear parents, how my heart was affected with all these things!

  He was pleased to add another charming sentiment, which shewed me the noble sincerity of his kind professions. ‘I do own to you, my Pamela,’ said he, ‘that I love you with a purer flame than ever I knew in my whole life! A flame, to which I was a stranger, and which commenced for you in the garden; though you, unkindly, by your unseasonable doubts, nipped the opening bud, while it was too tender to bear the cold blasts of slight or negligence. And this I declare to you, that I have known, in this sweet hour’s conversation, a higher and sincerer joy than it is possible I could have known, had I succeeded in my views upon you.’

  ‘O sir!’ said I, ‘expect not words from your poor servant, equal to these generous professions. Both the means, and the will, are given to you, to lay me under an everlasting obligation. How happy shall I be, if, though I cannot be worthy of all this goodness and condescension, I can prove myself not entirely unworthy of it! But I can only answer for a grateful heart; and if ever I give you cause wilfully (and you will generously allow for involuntary imperfections) to be displeased with me, may I be an outcast from your house and favour, as much as if the law had divorced me from you!’

  ‘Gratitude, my beloved girl,’ said the generous man, ‘is, must be, a part of your nature, or you could not, on this occasion, express yourself in a style so raised. But you were going to say something else. Speak on, my Pamela! say all that is in your heart to say. Speak on, my Pamela.’231

  ‘I am so desirous, sir, to stand well in your opinion, that I was going to try to clear myself in relation to my behaviour in the garden, which you were pleased to think so unseasonable. Had you then been pleased to hear what I had to say, you would, I flatter myself, have forgiven me, and owned, that I had some cause to fear, and to wish to be with my father and mother; and this I the rather say to you now, that you should not think me ever capable of returning insolence for goodness; or appearing foolishly ungrateful to you, when you was so kind to me.’

  ‘Indeed, Pamela,’ said he, ‘you gave me great uneasiness; for I love you too well not to be jealous of the least appearance of your indifference to me, or preference of any other person, not excepting your parents themselves. This made me resolve not to hear you; for I had not got over my reluctance to marriage; and a little weight, you know, turns the scale, when it hangs in an equal balance. But yet, you see, that though I could part with you, while my anger held, yet the regard I had then newly professed for your virtue, made me resolve not to offer to violate it; and you have seen likew
ise, that the painful struggle I underwent when I began to reflect, and to read your moving journal, between my desire to recall you, and my doubt whether you would return, (though yet I resolved not to force you to it) had like to have cost me a severe illness: but your kind and chearful return has dispelled all my fears, and given me hope (advantages of fortune out of the question) that you have not an indifference to me; and you see how your presence has chased away my illness.’

  ‘I bless God for your recovery, sir,’ said I; ‘but since you are so good as to encourage me, and will not despise my weakness, I will acknowledge, that I suffered more than I could have imagined, in being forbidden your presence in so much anger; and I was still the more affected, when you answered the wicked Mrs Jewkes so generously in my favour, at my leaving your house: for this, sir, awakened all my reverence for you; and you saw I could not forbear, not knowing what I did, to break in upon you, and acknowledge your goodness on my knees.’

  ‘’Tis true, my dear Pamela,’ said he, ‘we have sufficiently tortured each other: but we shall soon, I hope, be able to sit down together, secured in each other’s good opinion, and take pleasure in reflecting upon all our past difficulties. Meantime, let me hear what my dear girl would have said in her justification, (could I have trusted myself with her) as to her fears, and the reason of her wishing herself from me, at a time that I had begun to shew my fondness for her in a manner that I thought would have been agreeable to her and virtue.’

  I pulled out of my pocket the gypsey letter; but, before I gave it to him, ‘I have this letter, sir,’ said I, ‘to shew you, as what, I believe, you will allow, must have given me the greatest disturbance: but first, as I know not who is the writer, and it seems to be in a disguised hand, I would beg it as a favour, that if you guess whose it is, which I cannot, it may not turn to the person’s prejudice.’

  He took it and read it. And it being signed Somebody, he said, ‘Yes, this is indeed from Somebody; and, disguised as the hand is, I know the writer: don’t you see by the setness of some of these letters, and a little secretary232 cut here and there, especially in that c, and that r, that it is the hand of a person bred in the law-way? Why, Pamela, ’tis old Longman’s hand: an officious –’ and there he stopt. ‘But I have done with him,’ resumed he, angrily.