‘She expects to see you, madam. What answer shall I give her?’ ‘Tell her I am sick in bed: tell her I am dying, and must not be disturbed: tell her I am gone out: tell her any thing!’
At that moment up came her woman. ‘How do you do, Mrs Pamela?’ said she; and stared; I suppose to see me dressed. ‘My lady desires to speak with you.’ Now, thought I, I must go. She won’t beat me, I hope. Oh, that my dear protector were at home!
I followed her woman down; my gloves on, and my fan in my hand, that I might be ready to step into the chariot, when I could get away. I had hoped, that the occasion for all my tremblings had been over; but I trembled sadly; yet resolved to put on as easy an air as possible: and entering the parlour, and making a very low curt’sy, ‘Your servant, my good lady,’ said I. ‘And your servant, again,’ said she, ‘my lady; for I think you are dressed out like one.’
‘A charming girl though!’ said her rakish nephew, and swore a great oath: ‘dear madam, forgive me, but I must kiss her.’ And came up to me.
‘Forbear, uncivil gentleman,’ said I; ‘I won’t be used with freedom.’
‘Jackey,’ said my lady, ‘sit down, and don’t touch the creature: she’s proud enough already. There’s a great difference in her air, as well as in her dress, I assure you, since I saw her last.
‘Well, child,’ said she, sneeringly, ‘how dost find thyself? Thou’rt mightily come on of late! I hear strange reports about thee! Thou’rt got into fool’s paradise,296 I doubt; but wilt find thyself terribly mistaken, in a little while, if thou thinkest my brother will disgrace his family for the sake of thy baby-face!’
‘I see,’ said I, sadly vexed, (her woman and nephew smiling by) ‘your ladyship has no particular commands for me, and I beg leave to withdraw.’
‘Worden,’297 said she to her woman, ‘shut the door; my young lady and I must not part so soon.
‘Where’s your well-mannered deceiver gone, child?’ said she.
‘When your ladyship is pleased to speak intelligibly,’ replied I, ‘I shall know how to answer.’
‘Well, but my dear child,’ said she in drollery, ‘don’t be too pert neither. Thou wilt not find thy master’s sister half so ready as thy mannerly master is, to bear with thy freedoms. A little more of that modesty and humility, therefore, which my mother’s waiting-wench used to shew, will become thee better than the airs thou givest thyself.’
‘I would beg,’ said I, ‘one favour of your ladyship, that if you would have me keep my distance, you will not forget your own degree.’
‘Why, suppose, Miss Pert, I should forget my degree, wouldst thou not keep thy distance?’
‘If you, madam,’ said I, ‘lessen the distance yourself, you will descend nearer to the level you are pleased to consider me in, than I hope Lady Davers, for her own honour, will deign to do.’
‘Do you hear? do you hear, Jackey? Did I not tell you, that I should know how to form a notion of her situation, either by her pertness, or her reverence! Ah, girl! girl!’
Her nephew, who swears like a fine gentleman at every word, rapped out an oath, and said, drolling,298 ‘I think, Mrs Pamela, if I may be so bold as to say so, you should know you are speaking to Lady Davers!’ ‘I hope, sir,’ replied I (vexed at what my lady said, and at his sneering) ‘that as there was no need of your information, you don’t expect my thanks for it; and I am sorry you seem to think it wants an oath.’
He looked more foolish than I, if possible, not expecting such a reprimand. At last, ‘Why, Mrs Pamela,’ said he, ‘you put me half out of countenance with your witty reproof.’
‘Sir,’ said I, ‘you seem quite a fine gentleman. I hope, however, that you can be out of countenance.’
‘How now, Pert-one,’ said my lady, ‘do you know to whom you talk?’
‘I beg pardon, madam! But lest I should still further forget myself–’
And then I made a low curtsey, and was going. But she arose, and gave me a push, and pulled the chair, and setting the back against the door, sat down in it.
‘Well,’ said I, ‘I can bear any thing at your ladyship’s hands.’
Yet I was ready to cry. And I went and sat down, and fanned myself, at the other end of the room.
Her woman, who stood all the time, said softly, ‘Mrs Pamela, you should not sit in my lady’s presence.’ My lady, though she did not hear her, said, ‘You shall sit down, child, in the room where I am, when I give you leave.’
I stood up, and said, ‘When your ladyship will hardly permit me to stand, I might be allowed to sit.’
‘But I asked you,’ said she, ‘whither your master is gone?’
‘To one Mr Carlton’s, madam, about sixteen miles off, who is very ill.’
‘And when does he come home?’
‘This evening, madam.’
‘And whither are you going?’
‘To a gentleman’s house in the town, madam.’
‘And how were you to go?’
‘In the chariot, madam.’
‘Why, you must be a lady in time, to be sure! I believe you’d become a chariot mighty well, child! Were you ever out in it, with your master?’
‘I beseech you, madam,’ said I, very much nettled, ‘to ask half a dozen such questions together; because one answer may do for all!’
‘Why, Bold-face,’ said she, ‘you’ll forget your distance, and bring me to your level before my time.’
I could no longer refrain tears, but said, ‘Pray your ladyship, let me ask, What I have done to be thus severely treated? If you think I am deceived, as you were pleased to hint, ought I not rather to be entitled to your pity, than your anger?’
She came to me, and taking my hand, led me to her chair, and then sat down, still holding my hand.
‘Poor wench!’ said she, ‘I did indeed pity you, while I thought you innocent; and when my brother brought you down hither, without your consent, I was concerned for you. I was still more concerned for you, and loved you, when I heard of your virtue and resistance, and your laudable efforts to get away from him. But when, as I fear, you have suffered yourself to be prevailed upon, and have lost your innocence, and added another to the number of the fools he has ruined’ [This shocked me a little] ‘I cannot help shewing you my displeasure.’
‘Madam,’ replied I, ‘I must beg a less hasty judgment; I have not lost my innocence.’
‘Take care, take care, Pamela: don’t lose your veracity, as well as your virtue. Why are you here, when you are at full liberty to go whither you please? I will make one proposal to you, and if you are innocent, I am sure you’ll accept of it. Will you go and live with me? I will instantly set out with you in my chariot, and not stay half an hour longer in this house, if you will go with me. Now, if you are innocent, and willing to keep so, deny me, if you can.’
‘I am innocent, madam,’ replied I, ‘and willing to keep so; and yet I cannot consent to this.’
‘Then, very flatly, thou liest, child,’ said she; ‘and I give thee up’: rising, and walking about the room in great wrath. Her nephew and her woman said, ‘Your ladyship is very good.’
’ ‘Tis a plain case; a very plain case,’ said her nephew.
I would have moved the chair, to have gone out, but her nephew came and sat in it. This provoked me; for I thought I should be unworthy of the honour I was raised to, though I was afraid to own it, if I did not shew some spirit, and I said, ‘What, sir, is your privilege in this house? And what is your pretence to detain me against my will?’
‘Because,’ said he, ‘I like it.’
‘Do you so, sir?’ replied I: ‘if that is the answer of a gentleman to me, a woman, it would not, I dare say, be your answer to a gentleman.’
‘My lady! my lady’ said he, ‘a challenge, a challenge, by Gad!’
‘No, sir,’ said I, ‘I am of a sex that gives no challenges; and you think so too, or you would not have thought of the word.’
‘Don’t be surprised, nephew,’ said my lady; ‘the wench c
ould not talk thus, if she had not been her master’s bedfellow. Pamela, Pamela,’ tapping my shoulder, two or three times, in anger, ‘thou hast lost thy innocence, girl; and thou hast got some of thy master’s assurance, and art fit to go any where.’
‘Then, an please your ladyship,’ said I, ‘I am unworthy of your presence, and desire I may withdraw.’
‘No,’ replied she, ‘I will know first, what reason you can give for not accepting my proposal, if you are innocent ?’
‘I can give,’ said I, ‘a very good one: but I beg to be excused.’
‘I will hear it,’ said she.
‘Why then,’ answered I, ‘I should perhaps have less reason to like this gentleman, at your ladyship’s house, than my abode where lam.’
‘Well then,’ said she, ‘I’ll put you to another trial. I’ll set out this moment with you to your father and mother, and see you with them in safety. What do you say to that?’
‘Ay, Mrs Pamela,’ said her nephew, ‘now what does your innocence say to that? ‘Fore Gad, madam, you have puzzled her now.’
‘Be pleased, madam,’ said I, ‘to relieve me from the questionings of this fine gentleman. Your kindness in these proposals makes me think you would not have me insulted.’
‘Insulted, madam! Insulted!’ returned he. ‘Fine ladies will give themselves fine airs! May she not as well call me, insolent, madam? Who, Mrs Pamela, do you talk to ?’
‘Jackey, be quiet,’ said my lady. ‘You only give her a pretence to evade my questions. Answer me, Pamela.’
‘I will, madam, and it is thus: I have no occasion to be obliged to your ladyship for this honour; for I am to set out on Wednesday on the way to my parents.’
‘Now, again, thou liest, wench.’
‘I am not of quality,’ said I, curtseying, ‘to answer such language.’
‘Let me again caution thee, wench, not to provoke me by thy pertness to do something by thee, unworthy of myself.’
That, thought I, you have done already; but I ventured not to say so.
‘But who is to carry you,’ said she, ‘to your father and mother ?’
‘Who my master pleases, madam.’
‘Ay,’ said she, ‘I doubt not thou wilt do every thing he pleases, if thou hast not already. Why now, tell me, Pamela, from thy heart, Hast thou not been in bed with thy master? Hay, wench! ‘repeated she.
I was quite shocked. ‘I have not,’ said I, ‘deserved such usage: I am sure your ladyship can expect no answer to such a question. My sex, and my youth, might have exempted me from such treatment, from a person of your ladyship’s birth and quality; were it only for your own sake, madam.’
‘Thou art a confident wench,’ said she, ‘I see!’
‘Pray, madam, let me beg you to permit me to go. I am waited for in the town to dinner.’
‘I can’t spare you,’ replied she; ‘and whomsoever you are to go to, will excuse you, when they are told ’tis I that command you not to go; and you may excuse it too, young Lady Would-be,299 if you recollect, that ‘tis the unexpected arrival of your late lady’s daughter, and your master’s sister, that requires your attendance on her.’
I pleaded, foolishly enough, as I might have expected she would ridicule me for it, pre-engagement.
‘My stars!’ said she, ‘what will this world come to! Waiting-wenches plead pre-engagements in bar of300 their duty! O Pamela, Pamela! I am sorry thou givest thyself such airs, and triest to ape thy betters: I see thou art quite spoiled: of a modest, innocent girl, that thou wert, and humble too, thou now art fit for nothing in the world, but what, I fear, thou art.’
‘Why, madam,’ said her kinsman, ‘what signifies all your lady-ship can say? The matter’s over with her, no doubt; and she likes it; and she is in a fairy-dream, and ‘tis pity to awaken her before her dream’s out.’
‘Bad as you take me to be, madam,’ said I, ‘I am not used to such language or reflections as this gentleman bestows upon me; and I won’t bear it.’
‘Won’t bear it; wench! Well, but, Jackey, be silent’; and, shaking her head, ‘Poor girl! what a sweet innocence is here destroyed! A thousand pities! I could weep over her! But she is quite lost, quite undone; and has assumed airs upon it, that all those creatures are distinguished by!’
I wept for vexation. ‘Say what you please, madam: if I can help it, I will not answer another word.’
Mrs Jewkes came in, and asked, If her ladyship was ready for dinner? ‘Let it be served,’ said she. I would have gone out with Mrs Jewkes; but my lady, taking my hand, repeated, that she could not spare me. ‘And, miss,’ proceeded she, ‘you may pull off your gloves, and lay your fan by; you shall not stir from my presence. If you behave better, you shall wait upon me at dinner, and then I shall have a little further talk with you.’
Mrs Jewkes stopping at the door, ‘Madam,’ said she to me, ‘may I speak one word with you?’
‘I can’t tell, Mrs Jewkes,’ returned I. ‘My lady holds my hand, and you see I am a kind of prisoner.’
‘Madam, dost thou call her, woman? And I suppose thou art called madam301 too. But what thou hast to say, thou may’st speak before me.’
Mrs Jewkes went out, and seemed vexed for me. She says, my face looked like the very scarlet.
The cloth was laid in another parlour, and for three persons, and she led me in: ‘Come, my little dear,’ said she, with a sneer, ‘I’ll hand you in, and I would have you think as highly of the honour, as if it was done you by my brother.’
How dreadful, thought I, would be my lot, were I as wicked as this haughty lady thinks me!
‘Jackey,’ said my lady, ‘come, let us go to dinner. Do you, Worden,’ (to her woman) ‘assist the girl in waiting on us. We will have no men-fellows. Come, my young lady, shall I help you off with your white gloves?’
‘I have not, madam, deserved this at your ladyship’s hands.’
Mrs Jewkes coming in with the first dish, she said, ‘Do you expect any body else, Mrs Jewkes, that the cloth is laid for three?’
‘I hoped your ladyship and madam,’ replied Mrs Jewkes, ‘would have been so well reconciled, that she would have sat down too.’
‘What means the clownish302 woman?’ said my lady, in great disdain: ‘could you think the creature should sit down with me?’
‘She does, and please your ladyship, with my master.’
‘I doubt it not, woman,’ said she, ‘and lies with him too, does she not? Answer me, Fat-face!’
How these women of quality are privileged! thought I.
‘If she does, madam,’ said she, ‘there may be a reason for it, perhaps!’ And went out.
‘So!’ said she, ‘the wench has got thee over! Come, my little dear, pull off thy gloves, I say’; and off she pulled my left glove herself, and spied my ring. ‘O my dear God!’ said she, ‘if the wench has not got a ring! Well! this is a pretty piece of foolery, indeed! Dost know, my friend, that thou art miserably tricked? And so, poor Innocent! thou hast made a fine exchange, hast thou not? Thy honesty for this bauble! And, I’ll warrant, my little dear has topped her part, and paraded it like any real wife; and so mimicks still the condition! Why,’ said she, and turned me round, ‘thou art as mincing as any bride! No wonder thou art thus tricked out, and talkest of thy pre-engagements! Pr’ythee, child, walk before me to that glass: survey thyself, and come back to me, that I may see how finely thou canst act the theatrical part given thee.’
I was then resolved to try to be silent; although exceedingly vexed. I went to the window, and sat down in it, and she took her place at the table; and her saucy nephew, fleering at me most provokingly, sat down by her.
‘Shall not the bride sit down by us, madam? ‘said he.
‘Ay, well thought of,’ answered my lady. ‘Pray Mrs Bride, your pardon for sitting down in your place!’ How poor was this for a great lady! I said nothing.
With a still poorer pun, ‘Thou hast some modesty, however, child! For thou canst not stand it, so must sit, though in my p
resence!’
I kept my seat, and was still silent. It is a sad thing, thought I, to be thus barbarously treated, and hindered, besides, from going where I should be so welcome.
Her ladyship eat some soup, as did her kinsman; and then, as she was cutting up a chicken, said, with as little decency as goodness, ‘If thou longest, my little dear, I will help thee to a pinion, or breast.’
‘But, perhaps, child,’ said her Jackey, ‘thou likest the merry-thought: 303 shall I bring it thee?’ And then laughed like an idiot, for all he is a lord’s son, and may be a lord himself; being eldest son of Lord H. His mother was Lord Davers’s sister; who, dying some years ago, he has received what education he has, from Lord Davers’s direction. Poor wretch! for all his greatness! If I could then have gone up, I would have given you his picture. But for one of twenty-five, or twenty-six years of age, much about the age of my dear Mr B. he is a silly creature.
‘Pamela,’ said my lady, ‘help me to a glass of wine. No, Worden, you shan’t’; for she was offering to do it. ‘I will have my Lady Bride confer that honour upon me; and then I shall see if she can stand up.’ I was silent, and stirred not.
‘Dost hear, Chastity ?’ said she: ‘wilt thou help me to a glass of wine, when I bid thee? What! not stir! Then I’ll come and help thee to one.’
Still I moved not; but, fanning myself, continued silent.
‘When I have asked thee, Meek-one, half a dozen questions together,’ said she, ‘I suppose thou wilt answer them all at once. Canst thou not find one word for me? Canst thou not find thy feet?’
I was so vexed, I bit out a piece of my fan, not knowing what I did; but still I said nothing, only fluttering it, and fanning myself.
‘I believe,’ said she, ‘my next question will make up half a dozen; and then, Modest-one, I shall be entitled to an answer.’
Her nephew arose, and brought the bottle and glass. ‘Come,’ said he, ‘Mrs Bride, be pleased to help her ladyship, and I will be your deputy.’
‘Sir,’ replied I, ‘’tis in a good hand; help my lady yourself.’
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