Pamela, or Virtue Rewarded
arms about her neck, for I had got a new recruit of spirits just then;
and kissed her, and said, Thank you, Mrs. Jewkes, for accompanying me.
I have behaved sadly. No, madam, said she, pretty well, pretty well!
Mr. Peters walked out with me; and Mr. Williams and my master came out
after us, talking together.
Mr. Peters, when we came into the parlour, said, I once more, madam,
must wish you joy on this happy occasion. I wish every day may add to
your comforts; and may you very long rejoice in one another! for you
are the loveliest couple I ever saw joined. I told him, I was highly
obliged to his kind opinion, and good wishes; and hoped my future
conduct would not make me unworthy of them.
My good benefactor came in with Mr. Williams: So, my dear life, said
he, how do you do? A little more composed, I hope. Well, you see this
is not so dreadful an affair as you apprehended.
Sir, said Mr. Peters, very kindly, it is a very solemn circumstance;
and I love to see it so reverently and awfully entered upon. It is a
most excellent sign; for the most thoughtful beginnings make the most
prudent proceedings.
Mrs. Jewkes, of her own accord, came in with a large silver tumbler,
filled with sack, and a toast, and nutmeg, and sugar; and my master
said, That’s well thought of, Mrs. Jewkes; for we have made but sorry
breakfasting. And he would make me, take some of the toast; as they all
did, and drank pretty heartily: and I drank a little, and it cheered my
heart, I thought, for an hour after.
My master took a fine diamond ring from his finger, and presented it to
Mr. Peters, who received it very kindly. And to Mr. Williams he said,
My old acquaintance, I have reserved for you, against a variety of
solicitations, the living I always designed for you; and I beg you’ll
prepare to take possession of it; and as the doing it may be attended
with some expense, pray accept of this towards it; and so he gave him
(as he told me afterwards it was) a bank note of 50l.
So did this generous good gentleman bless us all, and me in particular;
for whose sake he was as bounteous as if he had married one of the
noblest fortunes.
So he took his leave of the gentlemen, recommending secrecy again, for
a few days, and they left him; and none of the servants suspected any
thing, as Mrs. Jewkes believes. And then I threw myself at his feet,
blessed God, and blessed him for his goodness; and he overwhelmed me
with kindness, calling me his sweet bride, and twenty lovely epithets,
that swell my grateful heart beyond the power of utterance.
He afterwards led me to the chariot; and we took a delightful tour
round the neighbouring villages; and he did all he could to dissipate
those still perverse anxieties that dwell upon my mind, and, do what I
can, spread too thoughtful an air, as he tells me, over my countenance.
We came home again by half an hour after one; and he was pleasing
himself with thinking, not to be an hour out of my company this blessed
day, that (as he was so good as to say) he might inspire me with a
familiarity that should improve my confidence in him, when he was told,
that a footman of Sir Charles Hargrave had been here, to let him know,
that his master, and two other gentlemen, were on the road to take a
dinner with him, in their way to Nottingham.
He was heartily vexed at this, and said to me, He should have been glad
of their companies at any other time; but that it was a barbarous
intrusion now; and he wished they had been told he would not be at home
at dinner: And besides, said he, they are horrid drinkers; and I shan’t
be able to get them away to-night, perhaps; for they have nothing to
do, but to travel round the country, and beat up their friends’
quarters all the way; and it is all one to them, whether they stay a
night or a month at a place. But, added he, I’ll find some way, if I
can, to turn them off, after dinner.—Confound them, said he, in a
violent pet, that they should come this day, of all the days in the
year!
We had hardly alighted, and got in, before they came: Three mad rakes
they seemed to be, as I looked through the window, setting up a hunting
note, as soon as they came to the gate, that made the court-yard echo
again; and smacking their whips in concert.
So I went up to my chamber, and saw (what made my heart throb) Mrs.
Jewkes’s officious pains to put the room in order for a guest, that,
however welcome, as now my duty teaches me to say, is yet dreadful to
me to think of. So I took refuge in my closet, and had recourse to pen
and ink, for my amusement, and to divert my anxiety of mind.—If one’s
heart is so sad, and one’s apprehension so great, where one so
extremely loves, and is so extremely obliged; what must be the case of
those poor maidens, who are forced, for sordid views, by their
tyrannical parents or guardians, to marry the man they almost hate,
and, perhaps, to the loss of the man they most love! O that is a sad
thing, indeed!—And what have not such cruel parents to answer for! And
what do not such poor innocent victims suffer!—But, blessed be God,
this lot is far from being mine!
My good master (for I cannot yet have the presumption to call him by a
more tender name) came up to me, and said, Well, I just come to ask my
dear bride (O the charming, charming word!) how she does? I see you are
writing, my dear, said he. These confounded rakes are half mad, I
think, and will make me so! However, said he, I have ordered my chariot
to be got ready, as if I was under an engagement five miles off, and
will set them out of the house, if possible; and then ride round, and
come back, as soon as I can get rid of them. I find, said he, Lady
Davers is full of our affairs. She has taken great freedoms with me
before Sir Charles; and they have all been at me, without mercy; and I
was forced to be very serious with them, or else they would have come
up to have seen you, since I would not call you down.—He kissed me, and
said, I shall quarrel with them, if I can’t get them away; for I have
lost two or three precious hours with my soul’s delight: And so he went
down.
Mrs. Jewkes asked me to walk down to dinner in the little parlour. I
went down, and she was so complaisant as to offer to wait upon me at
table; and would not be persuaded, without difficulty, to sit down with
me. But I insisted she should: For, said I, it would be very
extraordinary, if one should so soon go into such distance, Mrs.
Jewkes.—Whatever my new station may require of me, added I, I hope I
shall always conduct myself in such a manner, that pride and insolence
shall bear no part in my character.
You are very good, madam, said she; but I will always know my duty to
my master’s lady.—Why then, replied I, if I must take state upon me so
early, Mrs. Jewkes, let me exact from you what you call your duty; and
sit down with me when I desire you.
This prevailed upon her; and I made shift to get down a bit of
apple-pye, and a little custard; but that was all.
My good master came in again, and said, Well, thank my stars! these
rakes are going now; but I must set out with them, and I choose my
chariot; for if I took horse, I should have difficulty to part with
them; for they are like a snowball, and intend to gather company as
they go, to make a merry tour of it for some days together.
We both got up, when he came in: Fie, Pamela! said he; why this
ceremony now?—Sit still, Mrs. Jewkes.—Nay, sir, said she, I was loath
to sit down; but my lady would have me.—She is very right, Mrs. Jewkes,
said my master, and tapped me on the cheek; for we are but yet half
married; and so she is not above half your lady yet!—Don’t look so
down, don’t be so silent, my dearest, said he; why, you hardly spoke
twenty words to me all the time we were out together. Something I will
allow for your bashful sweetness; but not too much.—Mrs. Jewkes, have
you no pleasant tales to tell my Pamela, to make her smile, till I
return?—Yes, sir, said she, I could tell twenty pleasant stories; but
my lady is too nice to hear them; and yet, I hope, I should not be
shocking neither. Ah! poor woman! thought I; thy chastest stories will
make a modest person blush, if I know thee! and I desire to hear none
of them.
My master said, Tell her one of the shortest you have, in my hearing.
Why, sir, said she, I knew a bashful young lady, as madam may be,
married to—Dear Mrs. Jewkes, interrupted I, no more of your story, I
beseech you; I don’t like the beginning of it. Go on, Mrs. Jewkes, said
my master. No, pray, sir, don’t require it, said I, pray don’t. Well,
said he, then we’ll have it another time, Mrs. Jewkes.
Abraham coming in to tell him the gentlemen were going, and that his
chariot was ready; I am glad of that, said he; and went to them, and
set out with them.
I took a turn in the garden with Mrs. Jewkes, after they were gone: And
having walked a while, I said, I should be glad of her company down the
elm-walk, to meet the chariot: For, O! I know not how to look up at
him, when he is with me; nor how to bear his absence, when I have
reason to expect him: What a strange contradiction there is in this
unaccountable passion.
What a different aspect every thing in and about this house bears now,
to my thinking, to what it once had! The garden, the pond, the alcove,
the elm-walk. But, oh! my prison is become my palace; and no wonder
every thing wears another face!
We sat down upon the broad stile, leading towards the road; and Mrs.
Jewkes was quite another person to me, to what she was the last time I
sat there.
At last my best beloved returned, and alighted there. What, my Pamela!
(and Mrs. Jewkes then left me,) What (said he, and kissed me) brings
you this way? I hope to meet me.—Yes, sir, said I. That’s kind, indeed,
said he; but why that averted eye?—that downcast countenance, as if you
was afraid of me? You must not think so, sir, said I. Revive my heart
then, said he, with a more cheerful aspect; and let that over-anxious
solicitude, which appears in the most charming face in the world, be
chased from it.—Have you, my dear girl any fears that I can dissipate;
any doubts that I can obviate; any hopes that I can encourage; any
request that I can gratify?—Speak, my dear Pamela; and if I have power,
but speak, and to purchase one smile, it shall be done!
I cannot, sir, said I, have any fears, any doubts, but that I shall
never be able to deserve all your goodness. I have no hopes, but that
my future conduct may be agreeable to you, and my determined duty well
accepted. Nor have I any request to make, but that you will forgive all
my imperfections and, among the rest, this foolish weakness, that makes
me seem to you, after all the generous things that have passed, to want
this further condescension, and these kind assurances. But indeed, sir,
I am oppressed by your bounty; my spirits sink under the weight of it;
and the oppression is still the greater, as I see not how, possibly, in
my whole future life, by all I can do, to merit the least of your
favours.
I know your grateful heart, said he; but remember, my dear, what the
lawyers tell us, That marriage is the highest consideration which the
law knows. And this, my sweet bride, has made you mine, and me yours;
and you have the best claim in the world to share my fortune with me.
But, set that consideration aside, what is the obligation you have to
me? Your mind is pure as that of an angel, and as much transcends mine.
Your wit, and your judgment, to make you no compliment, are more than
equal to mine: You have all the graces that education can give a woman,
improved by a genius which makes those graces natural to you. You have
a sweetness of temper, and a noble sincerity, beyond all comparison;
and in the beauty of your person, you excel all the ladies I ever saw.