Pamela

by Samuel Richardson

  ‘When you consider, sir,’ replied I, ‘that my utmost presumption could not make me hope for the honour you are now so good as to design me; that I was very hardly used; and had no prospect before me but dishonour; you will allow, that I should have seemed very little in earnest in my professions of honesty, if I had not endeavoured to get away: but yet I resolved not to think of marriage; for I never saw the man I could love, till your goodness, I am not ashamed to say, emboldened me to look up to you.’

  ‘I should, my dear Pamela,’ returned he, ‘make a very ill compliment to my vanity, if I did not believe you.’

  I was glad to hear this account of the interview between Mr Williams and himself: I hope the good man will, in time, be reinstated in his favour.

  He was so good as to tell me, he had given orders for the chapel to be cleared. With what inward joy, yet with fear and trembling, do I look forward!

  FRIDAY

  About twelve o’clock came Sir Simon, Lady Darnford, their two daughters, Mrs Jones,238 a sister-in-law of her’s, and Mr Peters, and his spouse, and niece. Mrs Jewkes, who is more and more obliging, was much concerned I was not dressed in some of my best clothes, and made me many compliments.

  My master, conducting them into the garden, led them into the largest alcove, and stepped himself to me. ‘Come, my Pamela,’ said he, ‘the ladies are impatient to see you.’ I was in some confusion. ‘The young ladies,’ said he, ‘are dressed out in their best attire; but they make not such an appearance as my charming girl in this humble garb. They are all in the great alcove.’ ‘Shan’t I follow you thither, sir?’ said I. ‘I can’t bear you should do me so much honour as to accompany me.’ ‘I’ll go before you,’ replied he, ‘and do you bid Mrs Jewkes bring a bottle or two of Canary, and some cake.’ So he left me, and went to attend his guests.

  This alcove fronts the longest gravel-walk in the garden, so that they saw me all the way I came, for a good way: there was no by-path, as I wished there were, and would have chosen it if there had, could I have done it without appearing affected.239 My master, with pleasure, told me, afterwards, all they said of me.

  Will you forgive your vain daughter, if she tells you all he was pleased to tell me? Vain you will think me, and I cannot but say I am proud to be so distinguished by him. Then these agreeable circumstances are so new to me! When I am more used to these honours, I hope all my pride will be lost in my gratitude to God, and to him. I know, moreover, that my now happy tale rejoices your worthy hearts; and you will not think I can be too particular on these occasions. So, my dear father and mother, you must have some pride to answer for, as well as your daughter.

  He said, ’spying me first, ‘Look there, ladies, comes my pretty rustic!’ They all, I saw, (which dashed me) stood at the opened windows of the alcove, and in the door-way, looking full at me. Was that pretty in them?

  My master told me, that Mrs Jones said, ‘She is a charming creature! I see that at this distance.’ And Sir Simon, it seems, who has been a sad rake in his younger days, swore he never saw so easy an air, so fine a shape, and so graceful a motion. Lady Darn-ford said, I was a sweet girl. And Mrs Peters said very handsome things. Even Mr Peters said, I should be the pride of the county. The young ladies, he was pleased to add, blushed, and envied me! But that could not be so! To his partial favour for me, I owed this compliment.

  When I came near, he saw me in a little confusion, and was so kind as to meet me, ‘Give me your hand,’ said he, ‘my good girl; you walk too fast’ (for indeed I wanted to be out of their gazing). I did so, with a curt’sy, and he led me up the steps of the alcove, and in a most gracious manner presented me to the ladies. They all saluted me, and said, They hoped to be better acquainted with me: and Lady Darnford was pleased to say I should be the flower of the neighbourhood. Sir Simon said, ‘Good neighbour, by your leave’; and, saluting me, added, ‘Now will I say, that I have kissed the loveliest maiden in England.’

  But for all this, methought I owed him a grudge for a tell-tale, though all is likely to turn out so happily.

  Mr Peters very gravely followed his example, and said, like a bishop, ‘God bless you, fair excellence!’ ‘Pray, dear madam, sit down by me,’ said Mrs Jones. And they all sat down.

  I hesitated, as if looking for a place near the door. ‘Sit down, my good girl,’ said my master: ‘these ladies, my neighbours, will indulge you for my sake, at present; and when they are acquainted with you, for your own.’

  ‘sir,’ said I, but hesitatingly, ‘I shall be proud to deserve their indulgence.’

  They all so gazed at me, that I could not look up; for I think it is one of the distinctions of persons of condition, and the well-bred, to put bashful ones out of countenance. ‘Well, Sir Simon,’ said my master, ‘what say you now to my pretty rustic!’ He swore a great oath, that he should better know what to say to me, if he was as young as himself. Lady Darnford said, ‘You will never leave,240 Sir Simon.’

  ‘You have walked too fast, my Pamela,’ said my master. ‘Recover yourself. You may the sooner, for I have told all my kind neighbours here, a good deal of your story, and your excellence.’ ‘Yes,’ said Lady Darnford, ‘my dear neighbour, as I will call you; we that are here present have heard your uncommon story.’ ‘Then, madam,’ replied I, ‘you have heard what must make your kind allowance for me very necessary.’ ‘No,’ said Mrs Peters, ‘we have heard what will always make you valued as an honour to our sex, and as a pattern for all the young ladies in the county.’ I could only curt’sy to this high compliment

  Mrs Jewkes came in with the Canary, brought by Nan, to the alcove, and some cake on a salver; and I said, ‘Mrs Jewkes, let me be your assistant; I will serve the ladies with the cake.’ So I took the salver, and went round to the company with it, ending with my master. Mrs Jones said, she was not used to be served with such a grace; and they all praised me. Sir Simon particularly said, when I served him, that I should have a better office; and seeming to expect that I should make some answer,241 ‘I hope my good master’s favour,’ said I, ‘will never make me forget, that it is my duty to wait upon his friends.’ ‘Master! Sweet-one,’ said Sir Simon, ‘I hope you won’t always call Mr B. master, for fear our ladies should make the word a fashionable one to their husbands through the county.’

  The elder Miss Darnford stood up when I served her, and addressed me thus: ‘I beg your pardon, my dear madam, but I had heard how sweetly this garb became you, and was told the history of it; and I begged it as a favour, that you might oblige us with your appearance in it’ ‘I am much obliged to you, madam,’ said I, ‘that your kind prescription was so agreeable to my choice.’ ‘Was it your choice?’ said she. ‘I am glad of that: and yet the moment I beheld you, I excused myself, to myself; for I saw that your person gave, and could not take ornament from any dress.’ I blushed, and curtsied;242 but was unable to return an answer.

  Lady Darnford told my master, that she hoped they should have my company at table. He said, very kindly, ‘It is her time now, and I will leave it to her choice.’ ‘If the good ladies, then, will forgive me, sir,’ said I, ‘I had rather be excused.’ They all said I must not. I begged I might. ‘Your reason for it, my Pamela?’ said my master: ‘since the ladies request it, I wish you would dine with us.’ ‘Sir,’ replied I, ‘your goodness will make me, every day, more and more deserving of the honour the ladies do me; but at present I have too great a sense of my unworthiness to be easy under such a distinction.’

  My master generously said, ‘Well then, ladies, we will not urge this matter further: we must not make my good girl uneasy with herself.’

  ‘And must we excuse you, my amiable friend?’ most sweetly said Miss Darnford. ‘Accept me as such,’ said she. ‘Allow me to love you as my sister.’

  How encouraging to your girl, my dear parents, was the condescension of so fine a young lady. My master seemed delighted with the honour done me, by every one.

  Lady Darnford was pleased to say, ‘We will not oppress you, m
y sweet neighbour: but if we excuse you at dinner, we must insist upon your company at tea, and at the card-table; for’ (turning to my master) ‘we intend to pass the whole day with you, sir, as we told you.’ ‘What say you to Lady Darnford’s kind expectation, my Pamela? ’said my master. ‘Sir,’ replied I, ‘whatever is your pleasure, and the ladies, I shall think it my duty to comply with.’ They said, I was very obliging. But Sir Simon, rapping out an oath, said, That they might dine together, if they would; but he would dine with me, and with nobody else.

  The young ladies each offered herself to take a turn about the garden with me. And we three, and Mrs Jones’s sister-in-law, and Mr Peters’s niece, walked together.

  They were very affable, kind, and obliging; and we soon entered into a good deal of familiarity; and Miss Darnford every moment rose higher in my opinion. Her sister was a little more on the reserve; and I afterwards heard, that, about a year before, she would fain have had my master make his addresses to her; but though Sir Simon is reckoned rich, she was not thought a sufficient fortune for him. And, now, to have him look down so low as me, must be a sort of mortification to a poor young lady! And I pitied her. Indeed I did! I wish all young persons of my sex could be as happy as I am likely to be.

  My master told me afterwards, that I left the other ladies, and Sir Simon and Mr Peters, so full of admiration, was his word, both of my person and behaviour; that they could hardly talk of any other subject. The dear gentleman, God bless him! told me this with a pleasure that doubly delighted me.

  We walked in, and dinner not being ready, the young ladies desired me to give them one tune upon the harpsichord. They knew, Miss Darnford was pleased to say, that I could oblige them to advantage, both with my finger and my voice.

  They would not be denied, and I obeyed.

  The ladies were so kind as to approve my performance: and Miss Darnford complimented me highly upon it; and said, she wished Mr B. could be prevailed upon to give a ball on an approaching happy occasion. But I can’t say I do; though I did not say so; for these occasions, I think, are too solemn for principals of our sex to take part in, especially if they have the same thoughts of the solemnity that I have: for, though I have before me a prospect of happiness that may be envied by women of high rank; yet I have something very awful upon my mind, when I think of the matter, and shall more and more, as it draws nearer.

  About Four o’clock

  My master just now came up to me, and said, ‘If you should see Mr Williams below, do you think, Pamela, you should not be surprized?’ ‘No, sir,’ said I, ‘I hope not. Why should I?’ ‘Expect,’ said he, ‘a stranger, then, when you come down to us in the parlour; for the ladies are preparing for the card-table, and they insist upon your company.’ ‘O sir,’ said I, ‘you seem disposed to try all my courage.’ ‘Does it want courage, Pamela, to see Mr Williams?’ ‘No, sir, were not so many of your neighbours present, some of whom refused me protection, when I thought myself in danger. They, perhaps, will be affected, and will affect me, on recollecting what passed on that occasion; Sir Simon Darnford particularly, will perhaps take notice of the application made to his lady; Mr Peters–’ ‘Well,’ interrupted he, ‘I would have you guard your heart against surprizes, though you should see a man you have very little expectation to see, and whom you perhaps dearly love.’

  This speech equally surprizes and concerns me. What will become of me, if he should be jealous? He looked very gravely when he said this. If any turn should now happen! My heart aches. But I will assume as chearful an air as I possibly can, that nothing will be imputed to me. Yet I wish Mr Williams had not come now, that there is so much company: otherwise I should have been glad to see the poor gentleman; for indeed I think him a good man, and he has suffered for my sake.

  I am now sent for down to cards. I’ll go; but wish for the continuance of their good opinion of me: for I shall be very aukward. My master, by his serious question, and caution to guard my heart against surprizes, has quite alarmed me. I hope he loves me! But whether he does or not, I am in for it now, over head and ears, I doubt, and can’t help loving him; ‘tis a folly to deny it.

  Now, my dear mother, must I write to you. Well might my master speak so mysteriously as he did, about guarding my heart against surprizes. I never was so surprized in my life; and never could see a man I love so dearly! O my mother, it was my dear, dear father (and not Mr Williams) that was below, ready to receive and to bless your daughter; and both my master and my father enjoined me to write how the whole matter was, and what my thoughts were on this joyful occasion.

  I will take the matter from the beginning, that Providence directed his feet to this house, as I have had it from Mrs Jewkes, from my master, my father, the ladies, and from my own heart and behaviour, as far as I know of both.

  It seems then, that my father and you were so uneasy to know the truth of the story which Thomas had told you, that, fearing I was betrayed, and absolutely ruined, he set out the day after Thomas was there; and on Friday morning got to the neighbouring town; and there he heard, that the gentry in the neighbourhood were at my master’s, at a great entertainment. He put on fresh linen (which he had brought in his pocket) at an alehouse there, and got shaved; and then set out for my master’s house, with a heavy heart, dreading for me, and in much fear of being himself brow-beaten. He had, it seems, asked at the alehouse, what family the ’squire had down here, in hopes to hear something of me; and they said, ‘A housekeeper, two maids, and, at present, two coachmen, and two grooms, a footman, and a helper.’ Was there no more of the family down? he asked. They told him, but said it must not come from them, that there was a young creature there, who had been his mother’s waiting-maid; but was supposed to be his mistress. This, he said, grieved his heart, and confirmed his fears.

  About three o’clock in the afternoon, he reached the iron gate; and ringing there, Sir Simon’s coachman, who was nearest at hand, went to him. And my father asked for the housekeeper; though from what I had written, he could not in his heart abide her. Mrs Jewkes sent for him in, little thinking who he was, and asked him, in the little hall, what was his business with her? ‘Only, madam,’ said he, ‘whether I cannot speak one word with the ’squire?’ ‘No, friend,’ said she, ‘he is engaged with several gentlemen and ladies.’ ‘I have business with his honour,’ said my father, ‘of greater consequence to me than either life or death.’ And tears stood in his eyes.

  At these words she went into the great parlour, where my master was talking very pleasantly with the ladies; and said, ‘Sir, here is a good tight243 old man, who wants to see you on business of life and death, he says, and is very earnest.’ ‘Ay,’ said he, ‘Who can he be? Shew him into the little hall. I’ll go to him presently.’ At my master’s going out, Sir Simon, in his free manner, said, ‘No more nor less, my good friend, I dare say, than a bastard child. If it is, bring it in to us.’ ‘I will,’ said my master.

  Mrs Jewkes tells me my master was much surprised, when he saw my father; and she much more, when my father said, ‘Good God! give me patience! but, sir, as great as you are, I must ask for my child!’ and burst out into tears. [O my dear mother! what trouble have I given you both!] My master said, taking him by the hand, ‘Don’t be uneasy, Goodman Andrews, your daughter is in the way to be happy!’

  This alarmed my father, and he said, ‘What! then, is she dying?’ And trembled so, he could hardly stand. My master made him sit down, and sat down by him, and said, ‘No, God be praised! she is very well; and pray be comforted: she has written a letter to assure you, that she has reason to be well satisfied and happy.’

  ‘Ah! sir,’ said he, ‘you told me once she was in London, waiting on a bishop’s lady, when all the time she was a close prisoner here.’

  ‘Well, that’s all over now, Goodman Andrews,’ said my master: ‘times are altered; for now the sweet girl has taken me prisoner; and, in a few days, I shall put on the most agreeable fetters that ever man wore.’

  ‘O sir,’ said h
e, ‘you are too pleasant for my griefs. My heart is almost broken. But may I not see my poor child?’ ‘You shall presently,’ replied my master, ‘for she is coming down to us; and I hope you will believe her, though you seem to doubt me.’

  ‘I will ask you, sir,’ said he, ‘but one question till then, that I may know how to look upon her when I see her? Is she honest? Is she virtuous?’ ‘As the new-born babe, Mr Andrews,’ said my master; ‘and in twelve days time, I hope, will be my wife!’

  ‘O flatter me not, good your honour,’ said my father, with folded hands: ‘it cannot be! I fear you have deluded her with strange hopes; and would make me believe impossibilities!’ ‘Mrs Jewkes,’ said my master, ‘do you tell my Pamela’s father all you know concerning me, and your mistress that is to be. Meantime, set out what you have, and make him drink a glass of what he likes best. If this be wine,’ added he, ‘fill me a bumper.’244

  She did so; and he took my father by the hand, and said, ‘Believe me, good man, and be easy; for I can’t bear to see you tortured in this cruel suspense: your daughter is the beloved of my soul. I am glad you are come: you will find us all in the same story. And here’s your dame’s health; and God bless you both, for being the happy means of procuring for me so great a blessing!’ And so he drank this most obliging toast.

  ‘What do I hear! it cannot surely be!’ said my father. ‘And your honour cannot, I hope, mock a poor old man! This ugly story, sir, of the bishop runs in my head! But you say I shall see my child! And I shall see her honest! If not, poor as I am, I would not own her!’

  My master bid Mrs Jewkes not let me Know yet, that my father was come; and went to the company, and said, ‘I have been agreeably surprized. Here is honest Mr Andrews come, full of grief, to see his daughter; for he fears she is seduced; and tells me, worthy man, that, poor as he is, he will not own her, if she be not virtuous.’