Pamela

by Samuel Richardson

  ‘O,’ said they all, with one voice almost, ‘Dear sir! shall we not see the good old man you have so much praised for his plain good sense and honest heart; and for his love to his daughter, as well as his daughter for her duty to him?’ ‘I intend,’ said my master, ‘to surprize her. She shall not know her father is come till she sees him.’ ‘Dear, dear Mr B.’ said Miss Darnford (and they all joined in the same request) ‘let us be present at their first interview!’ But was not this very cruel, my dear mother? For well might they think I should not support myself under such an agreeable surprize.

  He said, kindly, ‘I have but one fear; that the dear girl may be too much affected.’ ‘O,’ said Lady Darnford, ‘we’ll all help to keep up her spirits.’ ‘I’ll go up,’ said he, ‘and prepare her a little.’

  Accordingly, he came up, and amused me, as I have told you, about Mr Williams.

  My master went from me to my father, and asked if he had eaten any thing. ‘No,’ said Mrs Jewkes; ‘the good man’s heart’s so full he cannot eat, nor take comfort, till he has seen his daughter.’ ‘That shall soon be,’ said my master. ‘I will have you come in with me; for she is going to sit down with my guests to quadrille,245 and I will hasten her down.’ ‘O sir,’ said my father, ‘don’t, don’t let me; I am not fit to appear before your guests; let me see my daughter by myself, I beseech you.’ ‘All my guests know your honest character, Goodman Andrews,’ said my master; ‘and long to see you for Pamela’s sake.’

  He then took my father by the hand, and led him in, against his will, to the company. ‘My good neighbours,’ said my master, ‘I present to you one of the honestest men in England; my Pamela’s father.’ Mr Peters went to him, and took him by the hand, and said, ‘We are all glad to see you, sir; you are the happiest man in the world in a daughter, whom we never saw before to-day; but cannot enough admire her.’

  ‘This gentleman, Mr Andrews,’ said my master, ‘is the minister of the parish; but is not young enough to be Mr Williams.’ This airy expression, my poor father said, made him, for a moment, fear that all was a jest Sir Simon also took him by the hand, and said, ‘Ay, you have a sweet daughter, honestly; we are all in love with her.’ And the ladies came, and said very fine things: Lady Darnford particularly, That he might think himself the happiest man in England, in such a daughter. ‘If, and please you, madam,’ said he, ‘she be but virtuous, ’tis all in all: the rest is but accident. But, I doubt, his honour has been too much upon the jest with me.’ ‘No,’ said Mrs Peters, ‘we are all witnesses, that he intends very honourably by her.’ ‘It is some comfort,’ said he, and wiped his eyes, ‘that such good ladies say so! But I wish I could see her.’

  They would have had him sit down by them, but he chose to sit in the corner of the room, behind the door; so that he could not be seen as one came in; because the door opened against him, as I may say. The ladies all sat down. My master sent for me. And down I came.

  Miss Darnford, in order to engage me from looking at my father, as I put to the door after me, welcomed me down. I saw not, therefore, my father presently: and his heart was so full that he could not speak to me: but he got up and sat down three or four times successively, in silence, and was quite unable to come to me. The ladies all had their eyes upon him; but I would not look that way, supposing Mr Williams was there: and they made me sit down between Lady Darnford and Mrs Jones; and asked me what we should play at. I referred myself to their choice, and wondered to see them smile, and look now upon me, and then to that part of the room; but still, as Mr Williams had not been presented to me, I looked not that way, though my face was to the door, and the table before me.

  ‘Did you send your letter to the post-house, my good girl,’ said my master, ‘for your father?’ ‘To be sure, sir,’ answered I; ‘I did not forget that. Mr Thomas carried it.’ ‘What,’ said he, ‘I wonder, will the good old couple say to it?’ ‘O sir,’ replied I, ‘the news of your great goodness will be a cordial to their worthy hearts!’

  At that, my father, not able to contain himself, nor yet to stir from the place, gushed out into a flood of tears, and cried out, ‘O my child!’

  I knew the voice, and lifting my eyes, and seeing my father, gave a spring, overturned the table, without regard to the company, and threw myself at his feet. ‘O my father! my father!’ said I, ‘can it be! Is it you? Yes, it is! it is! O bless your happy –’ daughter! I would have said, and down I sunk.

  My master was concerned. ‘I feared,’ said he, ‘that the surprize would be too much for her spirits.’ All the ladies ran to me, and made me drink a glass of water; and recovering, I found myself in the arms of my dearest father. ‘O tell me,’ said I, ‘every thing! How long have you been here? When did you come? How does my mother?’ And half a dozen questions more I asked, before he could answer one.

  They permitted me to retire, with my father; and then I poured forth all my vows and thanksgivings to God for this additional blessing; and confirmed all my master’s goodness to me, to his joyful amazement. And after I had resolved all his doubts, and answered all his questions, we kneeled together, blessing God, and each other, and you also, my dear mother, for several ecstatic minutes; and my master coming in soon after, my dear father said, ‘O sir, what a change is this! May God reward and bless you, in this world and the next!’

  ‘How does my sweet girl? ‘said my kind master. ‘I have been in pain for you! I am sorry I did not apprise you beforehand –’

  ‘O sir,’ said I, ‘it was you! and all you do must be right. But this was a blessing so unexpected!’

  ‘Well,’ said he, ‘you have given painful delight to all the company. They will be glad to see you, when you can return. Mr Andrews, do you make this house your own; and the longer you stay, the more welcome you will be. After you have a little composed yourself, my dear girl, come to us again. I am glad to see you so well already.’ And he left us.

  ‘See you, my dear father,’ said I, ‘what goodness there is in this once naughty master! O pray for him, and pray, that I may deserve it!’

  ‘How long is it since this happy change has been wrought, my dear child?’ ‘O,’ said I, ‘several happy days! I have written down every thing; and you will see, from the depth of despair, what God has done for your daughter!’

  ‘Blessed be his name!’ said he. ‘But can it be, that such a great gentleman will make a lady of the child of such a poor man as I? O the Divine Goodness! How will your mother be able to support these happy tidings? I will set out to-morrow, to acquaint her with them: for I am but half happy, till the dear good woman shares my joy! To be sure, my dear child, we ought to go into some far country to hide ourselves, that we may not disgrace you by our poverty!’

  ‘Now, my dear father,’ said I, ‘you are unkind for the first time. Your poverty has been my glory; your honesty and integrity have been my riches. Do I not owe all I am, and am likely to be, to your and my dear mother’s good lessons and example? And shall I be ashamed of my parentage? See you not already that this great and rich gentleman respects you for your goodness? And what is greatness to goodness?’

  In this manner, my dear mother, did we pass the happy moments, till Miss Darnford came in, and enquiring kindly after my health, took my father’s hand and mine, and, with the most engaging sweetness, led us both into the great parlour to the company; who all arose to congratulate us. My master took my father’s hand, in the kindest manner, and obliged him to sit down by him, and pledge him in a glass of wine. Sir Simon, after his facetious manner, put his hands on my shoulders. ‘Let me see, let me see,’ said he, ‘where do your wings grow? for I never saw any body fly like you. ‘Why,’ said he, ‘you have broken Mrs Jones’s shins with the table. Shew her, madam, the hurt she has done you.’

  They were so kind as to excuse me at cards; and my master made me sit between the two dearest men in the world to me, each holding one of my hands! my father, every now and then, with tears, lifting up his eyes, and saying, ‘Could I ever have hoped thi
s!’

  I asked him, if he had been so good as to bring the papers with him. He said he had, and looked at me, as if he asked, Must I give them to you now? I said, ‘Be pleased to let me have them.’ He gave them to me; and I stood up, and curt’sying, put them into my master’s hands. ‘Thank you, Pamela,’ said he. ‘Your father shall take all your papers with him, that he may see how faulty I have been, as well as be enabled to account for this happy alteration. But I must have them all returned me. I shall keep them for the writer’s sake.’

  My master was very urgent with them to stay supper; and, at last, they complied, on condition that I would grace the table, as they were pleased to call it. I begged to be excused. My master said, ‘Don’t be excused, Pamela, since the ladies desire it. And besides, we won’t part with your father; and so you may as well stay with us.’

  I was in hopes my father and I might sup by ourselves, or only with Mrs Jewkes.

  When supper was brought in, Lady Darnford took me by the hand, and said to my master, ‘Sir, by your leave’; and would have placed me at the upper-end of the table. ‘Pray, pray, madam,’ said I, ‘excuse me; I cannot sit there, indeed I cannot.’ ‘Pamela,’ said my master, to the great delight of my good father, as I could see by his looks, ‘oblige Lady Darnford, since she desires it. It is but a little before your time.’

  ‘Dear, good sir,’ said I, ‘pray don’t command it! Let me sit by my father.’ ‘Here’s ado indeed,’ said Sir Simon; ‘sit down at the upper-end, as you should do! and your father shall sit by you there.’

  This put my father upon difficulties. And my master said, ‘Come, I’ll place you all’: and so put Lady Darnford at the upper-end, Mrs Jones at her right hand, and Mrs Peters on the left, placing me between the two young ladies; but very genteelly put Miss Darnford below her younger sister; saying, ‘Come, madam, I’ll put you here, because you shall hedge in this pretty cuckow.’

  This seemed to please both sisters; for had the younger been put there, it might have piqued her, as matters had been formerly, to be placed below me; whereas Miss Darnford, giving place to her younger sister, made it less particular she should to me.

  My master kindly said, ‘Come, Mr Andrews, you and I will sit togemer.’ And took his place at the bottom of the table, and set my father on his right hand; and Sir Simon would sit on his left. ‘For, parson,’ said Sir Simon to Mr Peters, ‘I think the petticoats246 should sit together; do you, therefore, sit down by that lady’ (his sister). They had heard, that I had been used, by my late lady’s goodness, to carve at her table, when she had any of her select friends to dine with her; and they would put me upon that office; and were pleased with my performance; all kindly desirous to keep your poor girl in countenance. And Miss Darnford took occasion to praise my voice and my performance on the harpsichord. ‘Foolish Polly,’ said Sir Simon, ‘who, that hears her speak, knows not that she has a voice? And who, that sees her fingers, believes not, that they were made to touch any key?’ He laughed out, and, ‘O parson!’ added he, ‘tis well you are by, or I would have provoked a blush from the ladies.’ ‘I hope not, Sir Simon,’ said Mrs Jones; ‘a man of your politeness would not say any thing that would make ladies blush.’ ‘No, not for the world,’ replied he; ‘but if I had, it would have been, as the poet says,

  They blush, because they understand.’247

  When the company went away, Lady Darnford, Mrs Jones, and Mrs Peters, severally, in a very pressing manner, invited my master to return their visit, and not to fail to bring me with him. And they said to me, ‘We hope, when the happy knot is tied, you will induce Mr B. to reside more among us,’ ‘We were always glad,’ said Lady Darnford, ‘when Mr B. was here; but now shall have double reason.’ What grateful things were these to the ears of my good father!

  When the company was gone, my master made us both sit down by him; and said, ‘I have been telling this sweet girl, that, in fourteen days (and two of them are gone) she must fix on one to make me happy; and have left it to her, to chuse either one of the first or last seven.’ My father held up his hands and eyes. ‘God bless your honour,’ said he, ‘is all I can say!’ ‘Now, Pamela,’ said my master, taking my hand, ‘don’t let a little wrong-timed bashfulness take place; because I should be glad to return to my Bedfordshire house, as soon as possible; and I would not go thither, till I carry my servants there a mistress, who should assist me to repair the mischiefs she has made in my family.’

  I could not look up for joyful confusion. And my father said, ‘My dear child, I need not, I am sure, prompt your obedience in whatever will most oblige so good a gentleman.’ ‘What says my Pamela?’ said my master: ‘she does not use to be at a loss for expression.’ ‘Sir,’ said I, ‘were I too sudden, it would look as if I doubted whether you would hold in your mind, and was not willing to give you time for reflection. But otherwise, I have no doubt to say, that I ought to resign myself implicitly to your will.’

  ‘I want not time for reflection,’ replied he. ‘I once would have been glad to have called you mine upon other terms: but now I wish not for you but upon your own; and the sooner the ceremony is performed, the better. What say you, Mr Andrews?’ ‘Sir,’ said my father, ‘there is so much goodness on your side, and, blessed be God! so much prudence on my daughter’s, that I must be quite silent. But when it is done, I and my poor wife shall have nothing to do, but to pray for you both, and to look back, with wonder and joy, on the ways of Providence.’

  ‘This,’ said my master, ‘is Friday night; and suppose, my girl, it be next Monday – Tuesday – Wednesday – Thursday morning? Say, my Pamela.’

  ‘Will you, sir,’ replied I, ‘excuse me till to-morrow for an answer?’ ‘I will,’ said he. And touched the bell, for Mrs Jewkes. And when she came in, ‘Where,’ said my master, ‘does Mr Andrews sleep to-night? You’ll take care of the good man. He will bring a blessing upon every house, in which he sets his foot.’

  My father wept for joy; and I could not refrain keeping him company. My master saluting me, bid us good-night, and retired; and I waited upon my father to his chamber, and was full of prattle, of my master’s goodness, and my future prospects.

  SATURDAY

  I arose early in the morning; but found my father was up before me, and was gone to walk in the garden. I went to him; enquiring after his rest. ‘O my dearest child,’ said he, ‘I have had a blessed night. I ruminated on all the wonderful things that have passed till I fell asleep: and then I dreamt of nothing but of Jacob’s ladder,248 and angels descending to bless me, and my beloved daughter!’

  We both joined to bless God and each other: and as we walked on in the garden, with what delight, with what thankfulness, did we go over every scene of it, that had before been so dreadful to me! The fish-pond, the back-door, and every place.

  About seven o’clock my master joined us, in his gown and slippers; and looking a little heavy, I said, ‘Sir, I fear you had not good rest last night.’ ‘That is your fault, Pamela,’ said he: ‘after I went from you, I could not forbear looking into your papers, and they held me till after three.’ ‘I wish, sir,’ said I, ‘you had had better entertainment.’ ‘The worst part of it,’ answered he, ‘was what I had brought upon myself; and you have not spared me. But I forgive you. You had too much reason for it. Yet I find, plainly enough, that if you had got away, you would soon have been Williams’s wife. Indeed I can’t see how it could have been otherwise.’ ‘I do assure you, sir,’ said I, ‘I had no notion of being his wife, or any body’s.’ ‘I believe so,’ said he; ‘but it must have come on as of course; and I see your father was for it.’ ‘Sir,’ said my father, ‘it was impossible for me to think of the joyful prospect before me. I thought my child’s virtue would be secured by her marriage with an honest man; and that Mr Williams, as a good clergy-man, would be a greater match for her than we could hope for: but when I found my daughter was averse to it, I resolved not to urge her; but leave all to her own prudence.’

  ‘I see,’ said my master, ‘
that all was sincere, honest, and open; and I am quite satisfied. But, Pamela, I am sorry to find, in some parts of your journal, that Mrs Jewkes carried her orders too far. I the rather take notice of it, because you have not complained to me of her behaviour, as she might have expected for some parts of it: she had the insolence to strike my girl! I find.’ ‘Sir,’ said I, ‘I was a little provoking, I believe; but as we forgave each other, I was the less entitled to complain.’

  ‘Well,’ said he, ‘you are very good; but if you should not know how to forget her insolence, I will so far indulge your resentment, as to order that she shall hereafter have nothing to do where you are.’ ‘Sir,’ said I, ‘your kindness makes all past evils as nothing to me; and when I reflect, that I owe my happiness to my grievances, it would be wrong if I could not, for the sake of the event, forgive the means.’ ‘That,’ said he, and kissed me, ‘is sweetly considered! and it shall be my part to make you amends for what you have suffered.’

  My father’s heart was full; and he said, with his hands folded and lifted up, ‘Pray, sir, let me go, let me go, to my wife, and tell her all these blessed things, while my heart holds! for it is ready to burst with joy!’ ‘Good man!’ said my master, ‘I love to hear that honest heart of your’s speaking at your lips. I enjoin you, Pamela, to continue your narrative, as you have opportunity; and though your father be here, write to your mother, that your story may be perfect, and that we, your friends, may read and admire you more and more.’ ‘Ay, pray do, my child,’ said my father.

  And this, my dear mother, is the reason that I write on, when I thought it needless so to do, because my father could tell you all that passed while he was here.

  My master would make us both breakfast with him; and he said, (Abraham at his command withdrawing) ‘I would have you, Pamela, begin to dress as you used to do; for now, at least, you may call your two other bundles your own; and for whatever you may want against the approaching occasion, (private as I design it, for particular reasons respecting Lady Davers) I’ll send to Lincoln for it, by a special messenger.’ My good lady’s bounty, and his own, I said, had set me much above my degree, and I had very good things of all sorts; and I did not desire any other, because I would not excite the censure of the ladies. At present, he was pleased to say, if I was satisfied, he would be so; and would defer dress and appearance till he publicly owned his nuptials.