 25 Thursday, near three o'clock. I thought I should have found no time nor heart to write again this day, but here are three gentlemen come, unexpectedly, to dine with my master, and so I shall not appear. He has done all he could, civilly, to send them away, but they will stay, though I believe he had rather they would not, and so I have nothing to do but to write till I go to dinner myself with Mrs. Jukes, for my master was not prepared for this company, and it will be a little ladish to-day, so I will begin with my happy story where I left off. When I came down to breakfast Mr. Peters and Mr. Williams were both there, and as soon as my master heard me coming down he met me at the door and led me in with great tenderness. He had kindly spoken to them, as he told me afterwards, to mention no more of the matter to me than needs must. I paid my respects to them, I believe a little awkwardly, and was almost out of breath, but said I had come down a little too fast. When Abraham came in to wait, my master said that the servants should not mistrust. "'Tis well, gentlemen, you came as you did, for my good girl and I were going to take an airing till dinner time. I hope you'll stay and dine with me." "'Sir,' said Mr. Peters, we won't hinder your airing. I only came, having a little time upon my hands, to see your chapel, but must be at home at dinner, and Mr. Williams will dine with me." "'Well, then,' said my master, we will pursue our intention, and ride out for an hour or two, as soon as I have shown Mr. Peters my little chapel. Will you, Pamela, after breakfast walk with us to it? If, if,' said I, and had liked to have stammered, foolish that I was, if you please, sir, I could look none of them in the face. Abraham, looking at me, why, child, said my master, you have hardly recovered your fright yet. How came your foot to slip?' "'Tis well you did not hurt yourself,' said Mr. Peters, improving the hint. "'You ain't sprained your ankle, madam, I hope.' "'No, sir,' said I, I believe not, but tis a little painful to me. And so it was, for I meant my foolishness.' "'Abraham,' said my master, bid Robin, put the horses to the coach, instead of the chariot. And if these gentlemen will go, we can set them down. "'No matter, sir,' said Mr. Peters. I had as leave walk, if Mr. Williams chooses it. "'Well, then,' said my master, let it be the chariot, as I told him. I could eat nothing, though I attempted it, and my hand shook so I spilled some of my chocolate, and so put it down again. And they were all very good, and looked another way. My master said, when Abraham was out, I have a quite plain ring here, Mr. Peters, and I hope the ceremony will dignify the ring, and that I shall give my girl reason to think it, for that cause, the most valuable one that can be presented her. Mr. Peters said, he was sure I should value it more than the richest diamond in the world. I had bid Mrs. Jukes not to dress herself, lest she should give cause of mistrust, and she took my advice. When breakfast was over, my master said, before Abraham, "'Well, gentlemen, we will step into the chapel, and you must give me your advice, as to the alterations I design. I am in the more haste, because the survey you are going to take of it, for the alterations will take up a little time, and we shall have but a small space between that and dinner, for the little tour I designed to make. Hamela, you'll give us your opinion, won't you?' "'Yes, sir,' said I. "'I'll come after you.' So they went out, and I sat down in the chair again, and fanned myself. "'I am sick at heart,' said I, I think, Mrs. Jukes,' said she. "'Shall I fetch you a little cordial?' "'No,' said I, "'I am a sad fool.' "'I want spirits, that's all.' She took her smelling-bottle, and would have given it me, but I said, keep it in your hand. Maybe I shall want it, but I hope not. She gave me very good words, and begged me to go. And I got up, but my knees beat so against one another. I was forced to sit down again. But, at last, I held by her arm, and passing by Abraham I said, this ugly slip coming downstairs has made me limp, though. So I must hold by you, Mrs. Jukes.' "'Do you know what alterations there are to be in the chapel that we must all give our opinions of them?' Nan,' she told me, was led into the secret, and she had ordered her to stay at the chapel door to see that nobody came in. My dear master came to me at entering the chapel and took my hand, and led me up to the altar. "'Remember, my dear girl,' whispered he, "'and be careful.' "'I am, I will, sir,' said I. But I hardly knew what I said, and so you may believe when I said to Mrs. Jukes, don't leave me, pray, Mrs. Jukes, don't leave me, as if I had all confidence in her and none where it was most due.' So she kept close to me. God forgive me! But I never was so absent in my life, as at first, even till Mr. Williams had gone on in the service so far as to the awful words about requiring us, as we should answer at the dreadful day of judgment. And then the solemn words, and my master's whispering, "'Mind this, my dear,' made me start, said he, still whispering, "'Know you any impediment?' I blushed, and said softly, "'None, sir,' put my grate on worthiness.' Then followed the sweet words. "'Wilt thou have this woman to thy wedded wife, et cetera?' And I began to take heart a little, when my dearest master answered audibly to this question. I will. But I could only make a curtsy, when they asked me, though I am sure my heart was reddier than my speech, and answered to every article of obey, serve, love, and honor. Mr. Peters gave me away, and I said, after Mr. Williams, as well as I could, as my dear master did with a much better grace, the words of betrothment, and the ceremony of the ring passing next. I received the dear favor at his worthy hands with a most grateful heart, and he was pleased to say afterwards in the chariot that when he had done sane, with this ring I thee did, et cetera, I made a curtsy, and said, "'Thank you, sir.' Maybe I did, for I am sure it was a most grateful part of the service, and my heart was overwhelmed with his goodness, and the tender grace wherewith he performed it. I was very glad that the next part was the prayer and kneeling, for I trembled so, I could hardly stand, betwixt fear and joy. The joining of our hands afterwards, the declaration of our being married to the few witnesses present, for, reckoning Nan whose curiosity would not let her stay at the door, there were but Mr. Peters, Mrs. Jukes, and she. The blessing, the psalm, and the subsequent prayers, and the concluding exhortation were so many beautiful welcome and lovely parts of this divine office, that my heart began to be delighted with them, and my spirits to be a little freer. And thus, my dearest, dear parents, is your happy, happy, thrice happy Pamela, at last married, and to whom? Why, to her beloved, gracious master, the Lord of her wishes. And thus the dear, once-naughty assailor of her innocence, by a blessed turn of providence, is become the kind, the generous protector and rewarder of it. That be evermore blessed and praised, and make me not wholly unworthy of such a transcendent honour. And bless and reward the dear, dear, good gentleman, who has thus exalted his unworthy servant, and given her a place, which the greatest ladies would think themselves happy in. My master saluted me most ardently, and said, God give you my dear love as much joy on this occasion as I have. And he presented me to Mr. Peters, who saluted me, and said, You may excuse me, dear madam, for I gave you away, and you are my daughter, and Mr. Williams modestly withdrawing a little way. Mr. Williams said my master, Pray accept my thanks, and wish your sister joy. So he saluted me too, and said, Most heartily, Madam, I do. And I will say that to see so much innocence and virtue so eminently rewarded is one of the greatest pleasures I have ever known. This my master took very kindly. Mrs. Jukes would have kissed my hand at the chapel door, but I put my arms about her neck, for I had got a new recruit of spirits just then, and kissed her, and said, Thank you, Mrs. Jukes, 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 parlor, 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. Jukes, of her own accord, came in with a large silver tumbler, filled with sack, and a toast, and nutmeg and sugar. My master said, That's well thought of, Mrs. Jukes, 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 except of this towards it, and so he gave him, as he told me afterwards it was, a bank note of fifty pounds. So did this generous good gentleman bless us all, and me in particular, for whose sake he was as bountious as if he had married one of the noblest fortunes. So he took his leave of the gentleman, recommending secrecy again, for a few days, and they left him, and none of the servants suspected anything, as Mrs. Jukes 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 appetats, that swell my grateful heart beyond the power of utterance. He afterwards led me to the chariot, and we took a delightful tour around the neighboring villages, and he did all he could to dissipate those still perverse anxieties that dwell upon my mind, and, do what I could, 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 barbarious intrusion now, and he wished they had been told he would not be at home at dinner. And aside, 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. Kant found 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 courtyard echo again, and smacking their whips in concert. So I went up to my chamber, and saw, what made my heart throb, Mrs. Duke'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 an 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 soared 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? Oh, 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, oh, 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 Davors 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. Jukes asked me to walk down to dinner in the little parlour. I went down, and she was so complacent 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. Jukes. 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. Jukes, 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 pie and a little custard, but that was all. My good master came in again, and said, Well, thank my stars. His 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. Five, Pamela, said he, Why this ceremony now? Sit still, Mrs. Jukes. Nay, sir, said she. I was loath to sit down, but my lady would have me. She is very right, Mrs. Jukes, 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. Jukes, 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. Jukes, interrupted I, no more of your story, I beseech you, I don't like the beginning of it. Go on, Mrs. Jukes, 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. Jukes. 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. Jukes, after they were gone, and having walked awhile I said I should be glad of her company down the Elm Walk, to meet the chariot, for, oh, 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 everything 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 has become my palace, and no wonder everything wears another face. We sat down upon the broad style, leading towards the road, and Mrs. Jukes 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. Jukes 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 I, 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 requests 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 requests 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 spirit 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. Where, then, my dearest, is the obligation, if not on my side to you. But to avoid these comparisons, let us talk of nothing henceforth but equality, although if the riches of your mind and your unblemished virtue be said against my fortune. Which is but an accidental good, as I may call it, and all I have to boast of. The condescension will be yours. And I shall not think I can possibly deserve you, till after your sweet example my future life shall become nearly as blameless as yours. Oh, sir, said I, what comfort do you give me, that instead of my being in danger of being ensnared by the high condition to which your goodness has exalted me, you make me hope that I shall be confirmed and approved by you, and that we may have a prospect of perpetuating each other's happiness, till time shall be no more. But, sir, I will not, as you once cautioned me, be too serious. I will resolve with these sweet encouragements to be and everything what you would have me be. And I hope I shall, more and more, show you that I have no will but yours. He kissed me very tenderly and thanked me for this kind assurance, as he called it. And so we entered the house together, eight o'clock at night. Now these sweet assurances my dear father and mother, you will say, must be very consolatory to me, and being voluntary on his side, were all that could be wished for on mine, and I was resolved, if possible, to subdue my idle fears and apprehensions, ten o'clock at night. As we sat at supper, he was generously kind to me, as well as in his actions as expressions. He took notice in the most delicate manner of my endeavour to conquer my foibles, and said, I see with pleasure my dear girl strives to comport herself in a manner suitable to my wishes. I see, even through the sweet tender struggles of your overnice modesty, how much I owe to your intentions of obliging me. As I have once told you that I am the conquest more of your virtue than your beauty, so not one alarming word or look shall my beloved Pamela hear or see to give her reason to suspect the truth of what I ever. You may the rather believe me, continued he, as you may see the pain I have to behold anything that concerns you, even though your concern be causeless, and yet I will indulge my dear girl's bashful weakness so far as to own that so pure a mind may suffer from apprehension on so important a change as this, and I can therefore be only displeased with such part of your conduct as may make your sufferings greater than my own, when I am resolved, through every stage of my future life, in all events, to study to make them less. After supper, of which with all his sweet persuasions I could hardly taste, he made me drink two glasses of champagne, and afterwards a glass of sac, which he kindly forced upon me, by naming your hells, and as the time of retiring drew on, he took notice, but in a very delicate manner, how my color went and came, and how foolishly I trembled, nobody surely in such delightful circumstances ever behaved so silly. And he said, My dearest girl, I fear you have had too much of my company for so many hours together, and would better recollect yourself, if you retired for half an hour to your closet. I wished for this, but thirst not say so much, vest he should be angry, for as the hours grew on I found my apprehensions increase, and my silly heart was the unquieter, every time I could lift up my eyes to his dear face, so sweetly terrible did he appear to my apprehensions. I said, You are all goodness, dear sir, and I boldly kissed his dear hand, and pressed it to my lips with both mine, and saluting me very fervently he gave me his hand, seeing me hardly able to stand, and led me to my chamber door, and then most generously withdrew. I went to my closet, and the first thing I did, on my knees, and thanked God for the blessing of the day, and they sought his divine goodness to conduct my future life in such a manner as should make me a happy instrument of his glory. After this, being now left to my own recollection, I grew a little more assured and lightsome, and the pen and paper being before me, I amused myself with writing thus far. 11 o'clock Thursday night Mrs. Jukes, being come up with a message desiring to know whether her master may attend upon me in my closet, and hinting to me that, however she believed he did not expect to find me there, I have sent word that I beg he would indulge me one quarter of an hour, so committing myself to the mercies of the Almighty, who has led me through so many strange scenes of terror and affrightment, to this happy yet awful moment, I will wish you my dear parents a good night, and though you will not see this in time, yet I know I have your hourly prayers, and therefore cannot fail of them now, so good night, good night, God bless you, and God bless me. Amen. If it be his blessed will, subscribe, your ever-dutiful daughter. Friday evening. Oh, how this dear excellent man indulges me in everything! Every hour he makes me happier, by his sweet condescension than the former. He pities my weakness of mind, allows for all my little foibles, endeavors to dissipate my fears. His words are so pure, his ideas so chaste, and his whole behavior so sweetly decent, that never surely was so happy a creature as your Pamela. I never could have hoped such a husband could have fallen to my lot, and much less that a gentleman who had allowed himself in attempts, that now I will endeavor to forget forever, should have behaved with so very delicate and unexceptionable a demeanor. No light frothy jest dropped from his lips. No alarming rallories. No offensive expressions, nor insulting airs, reproach, or wound the ears of your happy, thrice-happy daughter. In short he says everything that may emboldened me to look up, with pleasure upon the generous author of my happiness. At breakfast, when I knew not how to see him, he emboldened me by talking of you, my dear parents, a subject he generously knew I could talk of, and gave me assurances that he would make you both happy. He said, he would have me send you a letter to acquaint you with my nuptials, and, as he could make business that way, Thomas should carry it purposely as to-morrow. Or will I, said he, my dear Pamela, desire to see your writings, because I told you I would not. For now I will, in everything, religiously keep my word with my dear spouse. O the dear, delightful word, and you may send all your papers to them, from those they have, down to this happy moment. Only let me beg they will preserve them, and let me have them when they have read them. Because also those I have not seen, which, however, I desire not to see till then, but then shall take it for a favour, if you will grant it. It will be my pleasure, as well as my duty, sir, said I, to obey you in everything, and I will write up to the conclusion of this day that they may see how happy you have made me. I know you will both join with me to bless God for his wonderful mercies and goodness to you, as well as to me, for he was pleased to ask me particularly after your circumstances, and said he had taken notice that I had hinted in some of my first letters that you owed money in the world, and he gave me fifty guineas and bid me send them to you in my packet, to pay your debts, as far as they would go, and that you would quit your present business and put yourself, and my dear mother, into a credible appearance, and he would find a better place of a bid for you than that you had, when he returned to Bedfordshire. Oh! how shall I bear all these exceeding great and generous favours? I send them wrapped up five guineas in a parcel, in double papers. To me he gave no less than one hundred guineas more, and said, I would have you, my dear, give Mrs. Jukes, when you go away from hints, what you think fit out of these, as from yourself. Nay, good dear sir, said I, let that be what you please. Give her, then, said he, twenty guineas, as a compliment on your nuptials. Give Colbrand ten guineas, give the two coachmen five guineas each, to the two maids at this house five guineas each, give Abraham five guineas, give Thomas five guineas, and give the gardeners, grooms, and helpers twenty guineas among them. And when, said he, I return with you to the other house, I will make you a suitable present, to buy such ornaments as are fit for my beloved wife to appear in, for now, my Pamela, continued he, you are not to mind, as you once proposed, what other ladies will say, but to appear as my wife ought to do, else it would look as if what you thought of, as a means to avoid the envy of others of your sex, was a willful slight in me, which, I hope, I never shall be guilty of. And I will show the world that I value you as I ought, and as if I had married the first fortune in the kingdom. And why should it not be so, when I know none of the first quality that matches you in excellence? He saw I was at a loss for words, and said, I see my dearest bride, my spouse, my wife, my Pamela, your grateful confusion, and kissing me as I was going to speak, I will stop your dear mouth, said he, you shall not so much as thank me, for when I have done ten times more than this, I shall but poorly express my love for so much beauty of mine and loveliness of person, which thus, said he, and clasped me to his generous bosom. I can proudly now call my own. O how my dear parents, can I think of anything but redoubled love, joy, and gratitude! And thus generously did he banish from my mind those painful reflections and bashful apprehensions that made me dread to see him for the first time this day. When I was called to attend him at breakfast, and made me all ease, composure, and tranquility, he then, thinking I seemed somewhat thoughtful, proposed a little turn in the chariot till dinner time. And this was another sweet relief to me, and he diverted me with twenty agreeable relations of what observations he had made in his travels, and gave me the characters of the ladies and gentlemen in his other neighborhood, telling me whose acquaintance he would have me most cultivate. And when I mentioned Lady Davors with apprehension, he said, To be sure I love my sister dearly, notwithstanding her violent spirit, and I know she loves me, and I can allow a little for her pride, because I know what my own so lately was, and because she knows not my Pamela and her Excellencies as I do. But you must not, my dear, forget what belongs to your character, as my wife, nor meanly stoop to her, though I know you will choose by softness to try to move her to a proper behavior, but it shall be my part to see that you do not yield too much, however continued he. As I would not publicly declare my marriage here, I hope she won't come near us till we are in bed for sure. And then, when she knows we are married, she will keep away, if she is not willing to be reconciled, for she dares not, surely, come to quarrel with me, when she knows it is done, for that would have a hateful and wicked appearance as if she would try to make differences between man and wife. But we will have no more of this subject, nor talk of anything, added he, that shall give concern to my dearest. And so he changed the talk to a more pleasing subject, and said the kindest and most soothing things in the world. When we came home, which was about dinner time, he was the same obliging kind gentleman, and, in short, is studious to show on every occasion his generous affection to me. And after dinner he told me he had already written to his draper in town to provide him new liveries and to his late mother's Mercer to send him down patterns of the most fashionable silks for my choice. I told him I was unable to express my gratitude for his favors and generosity. And as he knew best what befitted his own rank and condition, I would wholly remit myself to his good pleasure, but, by all his repeated bounties to me, of so extraordinary a nature, I could not but look forward with all upon the condition to which he had exalted me, and now I feared I should hardly be able to act up to it in such a manner as should justify the choice he had condescended to make. But that, I hoped, I should have not only his generous allowance for my imperfections, which I could only assure him should not be willful ones, but his kind instructions, and that as often as he observed any part of my conduct such as he could not entirely approve, he would let me know it. And I would think his reproofs of beginning thoughts the kindest and most affectionate things in the world because they would keep me from committing greater, and be a means to continue to me the blessing of his good opinion. He answered me in the kindest manner and assured me that nothing should ever lie upon his mind which he would not reveal, and give me an opportunity either of convincing him or being convinced myself. He then asked me, when I should be willing to go to the Bedfisher house. I said, whenever he pleased, we will come down hither again before the winter, said he, if you please, in order to cultivate the acquaintance you have begun with Lady Jones and Sir Simon's family. And if it pleased God to spare us to one another, in the winter I will give you, as I promised, for two or three months the diversions of London, and I think, added he, if my dear pleases, we will set out next week, about Tuesday, for Tother House. I can have no objection, sir, said I, to anything you propose. But how will you avoid Miss Darnford's solicitation for an evening to dance? Why, said he, we can make Monday evening do for that purpose, if they won't excuse us. But if you please, said he, I will invite Lady Jones, Mr. Peters and his family, and Sir Simon and his family, to my little chapel, on Sunday morning, and to stay dinner with me. And then I will declare my marriage to them, because my dear life shall not leave this country with the least reason for a possibility of anybody's doubting that it is so. Oh how good was this! But indeed his conduct is all of a peace, noble, kind and considerate. What a happy creature am I! And then, maybe, said he, they will excuse us till we return into this country again, as to the ball. Is there anything, added he, that my beloved Pamela has still to wish? If you have, freely speak. Hither too, my dearest Sir, replied I, you have not only prevented my wishes, but my hopes and even my thoughts. And yet I must own, since your kind command of speaking my mind seems to show, that you expect from me I should say something, that I have only one or two things to wish more, and then I shall be too happy. Say, said he, what they are. Sir, proceeded I, I am indeed ashamed to ask anything lest it should not be agreeable to you, and lest it should look as if I was taking advantage of your kind condescensions to me, and knew not when to be satisfied. I will only tell you, Pamela, said he, that you are not to imagine that these things which I have done in hopes of obliging you are the sudden impulses of a new passion for you. But if I can answer for my own mind, they proceed from a regular and uniform desire of obliging you, which I hope will last as long as your merit lasts, and that, I make no doubt, will be as long as I live, and I can, the rather, answer for this, because I really find so much delight in myself, in my present way of thinking and acting, as infinitely overpays me, and which, for that reason, I am likely to continue for both our sakes. My beloved wife, therefore, said he, for me thinks I am grown fond of a name I once despised, may venture to speak her mind, and I will promise that so far as it is agreeable to me, and I cheerfully can, I will comply, and you will not insist upon it, if that should not be the case. To be sure, sir, said I, I ought not, neither will I, and now you emboldened me to become a humble petitioner, and that, as I ought, upon my knees, for the reinstating such of your servants, as I have been the unhappy occasion of their disobliging you. He raised me up, and said, My beloved Pamela has too often been in this suppliant posture to me, to permit it any more. Rise, my fairest, and let me know whom, in particular, you would reinstate, and he kindly held me in his arms, impressed me to his beloved bosom. Mrs. Jervis, sir, said I, in the first place, for she is a good woman, and the misfortunes she has had in the world must make your displeasure most heavy to her. Well, said he, who next? Mr. Longman, sir, said I, and I am sure, kind as they have been to me, yet would I not ask it, if I could not vouch for their integrity, and if I did not think it was my dear master's interest to have such good servants. Have you anything further? Said he. Sir, said I, your good old butler, who has so long been in your family before the day of your happy birth. I would, if I might, become an advocate for. Well, said he, I have only to say, that had not Mr. Longman and Mrs. Jervis, and Jonathan too, joined in a body, in a bold appeal to Lady Davvers, which has given her the insolent handle she has taken to inter-metal in my affairs, I could easily have forgiven all the rest of their conduct, though they have given their tongues no little license about me. But I could have forgiven them, because I desire everybody should admire you. And it is with pride that I observe not only their opinion and love, but that of everybody else that knows you, justify my own. But yet I will forgive even this, because my Pamela desires it, and I will send a letter myself to tell Longman what he owes to your interposition, if the estate he has made in my family does not set him above the acceptance of it. And as to Mrs. Jervis, do you, my dear, write a letter to her, and give her your commands, instantly, on the receipt of it, to go and take possession of her former charge. For now, my dearest girl, she will be more immediately your servant, and I know you love her so well that you'll go tither with the more pleasure to find her there. But don't think, added he, that all this compliance is to be for nothing. Ah, sir, said I, tell me but what I can do, poor as I am in power, but rich in will, and I will not hesitate one moment. Why then, said he, of your own accord reward me for my cheerful compliance with one sweet kiss. I instantly said, thus then, dear sir, will I obey, and oh, you have the sweetest and most generous way in the world to make that a condition which gives me double honour and adds to my obligations. And so I clasped my arms about his neck, and was not ashamed to kiss him once, and twice, and three times, once for every forgiven person. Now, my dearest Pamela, said he, what other things have you to ask? Mr. Williams is already taken care of, and I hope will be happy. Have you nothing to say for John Arnold? Why, dear sir, said I, you have seen the poor fellow's penitence in my letters. Yes, my dear, so I have, but that is his penitence for his having served me against you, and I think, when he would have betrayed me afterwards, he deserves nothing to be said or done for him by either. But, dear sir, said I, this is a day of jubilee, and the less he deserves, poor fellow, the more will be your goodness. And let me add one word, that as he was divided in his inclinations between his duty to you and good wishes to me, and knew not how to distinguish between the one and the other. When he finds us so happily united by your great goodness to me, he will have no more puzzles in his duty, for he has not failed in any other part of it, but, I hope, will serve you faithfully for the future. Well, then, suppose I put Mrs. Jukes in a good way of business, in some inn, and give her John for a husband, and then your gypsy story will be made out, that she will have a husband younger than herself. You are all goodness, sir, said I. I can freely forgive poor Mrs. Jukes, and wish her happy. But permit me, sir, to ask, would not this look like a very heavy punishment to poor John? And as if you could not forgive him, when you are so generous to everybody else? He smiled and said, O my Pamela, this, for a forgiving spirit, is very severe upon poor Jukes. But I shall never, by the grace of God, have any more such trying services, to put him or the rest upon. And if you can forgive him, I think I may, and so John shall be at your disposal. And now let me know what my Pamela has further to wish. O my dearest sir, said I, not a single wish more has your grateful Pamela. My heart is overwhelmed with your goodness. Forgive these tears of joy, added I. You have left me nothing to pray for, but that God will bless you with life, and health, and honor, and continue to me the blessing of your esteem, and I shall then be the happiest creature in the world. He clasped me in his arms and said, You can not, my dear life, be so happy in me, as I am in you. O how heartily I despise all my former pursuits, and headstrong appetites. What joys, what true joys, flow from virtuous love, joys which the narrow soul of the libertine cannot take in, nor his thoughts conceive, and which I myself, whilst a libertine, had not the least notion of. But, said he, I expected my dear spouse, my Pamela, had something to ask for herself. But since all her own good is absorbed in the delight her generous heart takes in promoting that of others, it shall be my study to prevent her wishes, and to make her care for herself unnecessary, by my anticipating kindness. In this manner my dear parents is your happy daughter blessed and a husband. O how my exalting heart leaps at the dear, dear word, and I have nothing to do but to be humble, and to look up with gratitude to the all-gracious dispenser of these blessings. So with a thousand thanks I afterwards retired to my closet to write you thus far, and having completed what I purpose for this packet, and put up the kind of lodging present, I have nothing more to say, but that I hope soon to see you both, and receive your blessings on this happy, thrice-happy occasion, and so hoping for your prayers that I may preserve and humble and upright mind to my gracious God, a dutiful gratitude to my dear master and husband, that I may long rejoice in the continuance of these blessings and favors, and that I may preserve, at the same time, an obliging deportment to everyone else, I conclude myself, your ever-dutiful and most happy daughter, Pamela B. O think it not my pride, my dear parents, that sets me on glorifying in my change of name, yours will be always dear to me, and what I shall never be ashamed of, I'm sure. But yet, for such a husband, what shall I say, since words are too faint to express my gratitude and my joy? I have taken copies of my master's letter to Mr. Longman, and mine to Mrs. Jervis, which I will send with the further occurrences, when I go to the other dear house, or give you when I see you, as I now hope soon to do. To be given or to volunteer, please visit LibriVox.org. Pamela or Virtue Rewarded by Samuel Richardson, section 26A. Monday, the Fifth Day I have had very little of my dear friend's company this day, for he only stayed breakfast with me, and wrote out to see a sick gentleman about eighteen miles off, who begged, by a man and horse on purpose, to speak with him, believing he should not recover, and upon part of whose estate my master has a mortgage. He said, My dearest, I shall be very uneasy if I am obliged to tarry all night from you, but, lest you should be alarmed, if I don't come home by ten, don't expect me. For poor Mr. Carleton and I have pretty large concerns together, and if he should be very ill, and would be comforted by my presence, as I know he loves me and his family will be more in my power if he dies than I wish for, charity will not let me refuse. It is now ten o'clock at night, and I fear he will not return. I fear for the sake of his poor sick friend, who I doubt is worse. Though I know not the gentleman, I am sorry for his own sake, for his family's sake, and for my dear master's sake, who by his kind expression I find loves him, and me thinks I should be sorry any grief should touch his generous heart. Though yet there is no living in this world without too many occasions for concern, even in the most prosperous state. And it is fit it should be so, or else, poor wretches as we are, we should look no farther, but be like sensual travelers on a journey homeward, who, meeting with good entertainment at some inn on the way, put up their rest there, and never think of pursuing their journey to their proper home. This I remember was often a reflection of my good ladies to whom I owe it. 11 o'clock Mrs. Jukes has been with me, and asked if I will have her for a bed-fellow in want of a bedder. I thanked her, but I said I would see how it was to be by myself one night. I might have mentioned that I made Mrs. Jukes dine and sup with me, and she was much pleased with it and my behavior to her, and I could see by her manner that she was a little struck inwardly at some of her former conduct to me. But poor wretch, it is much I fear because I am what I am, for she has otherwise very little remorse I doubt. Her talk and actions are entirely different from what they used to be, quite circumspect and decent, and I should have thought her virtuous and even pious had I never known her in another light. By this we may see, my dear father and mother, of what force example is, and what is in the power of the heads of families to do, and this shows that evil examples in superiors are doubly pernicious and doubly culpable because such persons are bad themselves and not only do no good but much harm to others, and the condemnation of such must, to be sure, be so much the greater. And how much the greater still must my condemnation be, who have had such a religious education under you, and been so well nurtured by my good lady, if I should forget, with all these mercies heaped upon me, what belongs to the station I am preferred to? Oh, how I long to be doing some good! For all that is past yet, is my dear, dear masters, God bless him, and return him safe to my wishes. For me thinks already, tis a week since I saw him. If my love would not be troublesome and impertinent, I should be nothing else. For I have a true grateful spirit, and I had need to have such a one, for I am poor in everything but will. Tuesday morning, eleven o'clock. My dear, dear, master, I am sure I should still say, but I will learn to rise to a softer epithet now and then, is not yet calm. I hope he is safe and well. So Mrs. Jukes and I went to breakfast, but I can do nothing but talk and think of him, and all his kindness to me, and to you, which is still me, more intimately. I have just received a letter from him which he wrote overnight, as I find by it, and sent early this morning. This is a copy of it. To Mrs. Andrews, my dearest Pamela, Monday night. I hope my not coming home this night will not frighten you. You may believe I can't help it. My poor friend is so very ill, that I doubt he can't recover. His desires to have me stay with him are so strong, that I shall sit up all night with him, as it is now near one o'clock in the morning, for he can't bear me out of his sight. And I have made him and his distressed wife and children so easy, in the kindest assurances I could give him, of my consideration for him and them, that I am looked upon, as the poor disconsolate widow, as she, I doubt, will soon be, tells me, as their good angel. I could have wished we had not engaged to the good neighborhood at Sir Simon's for tomorrow night, but I am so desirous to set out on Wednesday for the other house, that, as well as in return for the civilities of so many good friends, who will be there on purpose, I would not put it off. What I beg of you, therefore, my dear, is, that you would go in the chariot to Sir Simon's the sooner in the day the better, because you will be diverted with the company, who also much admire you. And I hope to join you there by your tea-time in the afternoon, which will be better than going home and returning with you, as it will be six miles difference to me. And I know the good company will excuse my dress on the occasion. I count every hour of this little absence for a day, for I am with the utmost sincerity, my dearest love for ever yours, etc. If you could go to dine with them, it will be a freedom that would be very pleasing to them, and the more as they don't expect it. I begin to have a little concern lest his fatigue should be too great, and for the poor sick gentleman and family, but told Mrs. Jukes that the least intimation of his choice should be a command to me, and so I would go to dinner there, and order the chariot to be got ready to carry me. When a messenger came up, just as I was dressed, to tell her she must come down immediately, I see at the window that visitors are come, for there is a chariot and six horses, the company gone out of it, and three footmen on horseback. And I think the chariot has coronets. Who can it be, I wonder? But here I will stop, for I suppose I shall soon know. Good sirs, how unlucky this is! What shall I do? Here is Lady Davar's come, her own self, and my kind protector, a great, great many miles off. Mrs. Jukes, out of breath, comes and tells me this, and says she is inquiring from my master and me. She asked her, it seemed, naughty lady as she is, if I was horrid yet. There is a word for a lady's mouth. Mrs. Jukes says she knew not what to answer, and my lady said, she is not married, I hope, and said she, I said, no, because you have not owned it yet publicly. My lady said, that is well enough. Said I, I will run away, Mrs. Jukes, and let the chariot go to the bottom of the elm walk, and I will steal out of the door unperceived. But she is inquiring for you, madame, replied she, and I said you was within but going out. And she said, she would see you presently, as soon as she could have patience. What did she call me? Said I. The creature, madame, I will see the creature, said she, as soon as I can have patience. I, but, said I, the creature won't let her if she can help it. Pray, Mrs. Jukes, favor my escape for this once, for I am sadly frighted. Said she, I'll bid the chariot go down as you order, and wait till you come. I'll step down and shut the hall door, that you may pass unobserved, for she sits cooling herself in the parlour over against the staircase. That's a good, Mrs. Jukes, said I, but who has she with her? Her woman answered she, and her nephew, but he came on horse back, and is going into the stables, and they have three footmen. And I wish, said I, they were all three hundred miles off. What shall I do? So I wrote thus far, and wait impatiently to hear the coast is clear. Mrs. Jukes tells me I must come down, or she will come up. What does she call me now? Said I. Wench, madame, bid the wench come down to me, and her nephew and her woman are with her. Said I. I can't go, and that's enough. You might contrive it that I might get out if you would. Indeed, madame, said she, I cannot, for I went to shut the door, and she bid me let it stand open, and there she sits over against the staircase. Then, said I, I'll get out of the window, I think, and fanned myself, for I am sadly frightened. Lad, madame, said she, I wonder you so much disturb yourself. You're on the right side of the hedge, I'm sure, and I would not be so discomposed for anybody. I, said I, but who can help Constitution? I dare say you would no more be so discomposed that I can help it. Said she, indeed, madame, if it was to me, I would put on an air as mistress of the house, as you are, and go salute her ladyship and bid her welcome. I, I, replied I, fine talking, but how unlucky this is, your good master is not at home. What answer shall I give her? said she, to her desiring to see you. Tell her, said I, I am sick of bed, I am dying and must not be disturbed, I'm gone out, or anything. But her woman came up to me just as I had uttered this and said, how do you do, Mrs. Pamela, my lady desires to speak to you? So I must go, sure she won't beat me, oh, that my dear protector was at home. Well, now I will tell you all that happened in this frightful interview, and very bad it was. I went down, dressed as I was, and my gloves on, and my fan in my hand, to be just ready to step into the chariot when I could get away. And I thought all my trembling bits had been over now, but I was mistaken, for I trembled sadly, yet resolved to put on as good an air as I could. So I went to the parlor and said, making a very low curtsy, your servant, my good lady, and your servant again, said she, my lady, for I think you are dressed out like one. A charming girl, though, said her rakeish nephew, and swore a great oath. Dear Aunt, forgive me, but I must kiss her, and was coming to me. And I said, for bear uncivil gentleman, I won't be used freely. Jackie, said my lady, sit down and don't touch the creature, she's proud enough already. There's a great difference in her air, I'll assure you, since I saw her last. Well, child, said she sneeringly, how dost find thyself? Thou art mightily come on of late. I hear strange reports about thee. Thou art almost got into fools' paradise, I doubt. And wilt find thyself terribly mistaken in a little while, if thou thinkest my brother will disgrace his family to humor thy baby face. I see, said I, sadly vexed, her woman and nephew smiling by. Your ladyship has no very important commands for me, and I must beg leave to withdraw. Beck, said she to her woman, shut the door, my young lady, and I must not have done so soon. Where's your well-mannered deceiver gone, child? says she. Said I, when your ladyship is pleased to speak intelligibly, I shall know how to answer. Well, but my dear child, said she, in drollery, don't be too hurt, neither. I beseech thee, thou wilt not find thy master's sister half so ready to take thy freedoms as thy mannerly master is. So a little of that modesty and humility that my mother's waiting-maid used to show will become thee better than the heirs thou givest thyself, since my mother's son has taught thee to forget thyself. I would beg, said I, one favor 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, then? If you, madame, said I, lessen the distance yourself, you will descend to my level and make an equality which I don't presume to think of, for I can't descend lower than I am, at least in your ladyship's esteem. Did I not tell you, Jackie, said she, that I should have a whip to talk to? He who swears like a fine gentleman at every word wrapped out in oath and said, drolling, I think, Mrs. Pamela, if I may be so bold as to say so, you should know you are speaking to Lady Davors. Sir, said I, I hope there was no need of your information, and so I can't thank you for it, and am sorry you seem to think it wants an oath to convince me of the truth of it. He looked more foolish than I at this, if possible, not expecting such a reprimand, and said at last, why, Miss Pamela, you put me half out of countenance with your witty reproof. Sir, said I, you seem quite a fine gentleman, and it will not be easily done, I dare say. How now, Pert one, said my lady, do you know whom you talk to? I think I do not, madame, replied I, and for fear I should forget myself more, I'll withdraw. Your Ladyship's servant, said I, and was going, but she rose and gave me a push, and pulled a chair, and, setting the back against the door, sat down in it. Well, said I, I can bear anything at your Ladyship's hands, but I was ready to cry, though, 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, Miss Pamela, you should not sit in my lady's presence. And 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. So I stood up and said, when your Ladyship will hardly permit me to stand, one might be indulged to sit down. But I ask you, said she, whether your master is gone, to one Mr. Carlton, madame, about 18 miles off, who is very sick. And when does he come home? This evening, madame. And where are you going? To a gentleman's house in the town, madame. And how was you to go? In the chariot, madame. Why, you must be a lady in time, to be sure. I believe you'd become a chariot mighty well, child. Was you ever out in it with your master? Pray, your ladyship, said I, a little too pertly, perhaps. Be pleased to ask half a dozen such questions together, because one answer may do for all. Why bold face, said she. Will 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. I never did your ladyship any harm. And if you think I am deceived, as you was pleased to hint, I should be more entitled to your pity than your anger. She rose and took me by the hand, and led me to her chair, and then sat down. And still, holding my hand, said, Why, Pamela, I did indeed pity you while I thought you innocent. And when my brother seized you and brought you down hither without your consent, I was concerned for you. And 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 fools he has ruined, this shocked me a little. I cannot help showing my displeasure to you. Madame, replied I, I must beg no hasty judgment. I have not lost my innocence. Take care, take care, Pamela, said she, Don't lose your veracity as well as your honor. Why are you here when you are at full liberty to go wither you please? I will make one proposal to you, and if you are innocent, I am sure you'll accept 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'll go with me. Now if you are innocent and willing to keep so, deny me if you can. I am innocent, Madame, replied I, and willing to keep so, and yet I cannot consent to this. Then, said she, very mannerly, Thou liest child, that's all, and I give thee up. And so she arose and walked about the Roman Great Wrath. Her nephew and her woman said, Your ladyship's very good, tis a plain case, a very plain case. End of section 26A.