Pamela by Samuel Richardson (classic romance novels .TXT) 📕

Mrs. Jewkes soon after rapped at the door. Who’s there? said I. Only I, madam. So I opened the door. ‘Tis a sad thing, madam, said she, you should be so much afraid in your own house. She brought me some chocolate and toast; and I asked her about my lady’s behaviour. She said, she would not suffer any body to attend but her woman, because she would not be heard what she had to say; but she believed, she said, her master was very angry with the young lord, as she called her kinsman; for, as she passed by the door, she heard him say, in a high tone, I hope, sir, you did not forget what belongs to the character you assume; or to that effect.

About one o’clock my master came up again, and he said, Will you come down to dinner, Pamela, when I send for you? Whatever you command, sir, I must do. But my lady won’t desire to see me. No matter whether she will or no. But I will not suffer, that she shall prescribe her insolent will to my wife, and in your own house too.—I will, by my tenderness to you, mortify her pride; and it cannot be done so well as to her face.

Dearest sir, said I, pray indulge me, and let me dine here by myself. It will make my lady but more inveterate.—Said he, I have told her we are married. She is out of all patience about it, and yet pretends not to believe it. Upon that I tell her, Then she shall have it her own way, and that I am not. And what has she to do with it either way? She has scolded and begged, commanded and prayed, blessed me, and cursed me, by turns, twenty times in these few hours. And I have sometimes soothed her, sometimes raged; and at last left her, and took a turn in the garden for an hour to compose myself, because you should not see how the foolish woman has ruffled me; and just now I came out, seeing her coming in.

Just as he had said so, I cried, Oh! my lady, my lady! for I heard her voice in the chamber, saying, Brother, brother, one word with you— stopping in sight of the closet where I was. He stepped out, and she went up to the window that looks towards the garden, and said, Mean fool that I am, to follow you up and down the house in this manner, though I am shunned and avoided by you! You a brother!—You a barbarian! Is it possible we could be born of one mother?

Why, said he, do you charge me with a conduct to you, that you bring upon yourself?—Is it not surprising that you should take the liberty with me, that the dear mother you have named never gave you an example for to any of her relations?—Was it not sufficient, that I was insolently taken to task by you in your letters, but my retirements must be invaded? My house insulted? And, if I have one person dearer to me than another, that that person must be singled out for an object of your violence?

Ay, said she, that one person is the thing!—But though I came with a resolution to be temperate, and to expostulate with you on your avoiding me so unkindly, yet cannot I have patience to look upon that bed in which I was born, and to be made the guilty scene of your wickedness with such a–-

Hush! said he, I charge you! call not the dear girl by any name unworthy of her. You know not, as I told you, her excellence; and I desire you’ll not repeat the freedoms you have taken below.

She stamped with her foot, and said, God give me patience! So much contempt to a sister that loves you so well; and so much tenderness to a vile–-

He put his hand before her mouth: Be silent, said he, once more, I charge you! You know not the innocence you abuse so freely. I ought not, neither will I bear it.

She sat down and fanned herself, and burst into tears, and such sobs of grief, or rather passion, that grieved me to hear; and I sat and trembled sadly.

He walked about the room in great anger; and at last said, Let me ask you, Lady Davers, why I am thus insolently to be called to account by you? Am I not independent? Am I not of age? Am I not at liberty to please myself?—Would to God, that, instead of a woman, and my sister, any man breathing had dared, whatever were his relation under that of a father, to give himself half the airs you have done!—Why did you not send on this accursed errand your lord, who could write me such a letter as no gentleman should write, nor any gentleman tamely receive? He should have seen the difference.

We all know, said she, that, since your Italian duel, you have commenced a bravo; and all your airs breathe as strongly of the manslayer as of the libertine. This, said he, I will bear; for I have no reason to be ashamed of that duel, nor the cause of it; since it was to save a friend, and because it is levelled at myself only: but suffer not your tongue to take too great a liberty with my Pamela.

She interrupted him in a violent burst of passion. If I bear this, said she, I can bear any thing!—O the little strumpet!—He interrupted her then, and said wrathfully, Begone, rageful woman! begone this moment from my presence! Leave my house this instant!—I renounce you, and all relation to you! and never more let me see your face, or call me brother! And took her by the hand to lead her out. She laid hold of the curtains of the window, and said, I will not go! You shall not force me from you thus ignominiously in the wretch’s hearing, and suffer her to triumph over me in your barbarous treatment of me.

Not considering any thing, I ran out of the closet, and threw myself at my dear master’s feet, as he held her hand, in order to lead her out; and I said, Dearest sir, let me beg, that no act of unkindness, for my sake, pass between so worthy and so near relations. Dear, dear madam, said I, and clasped her knees, pardon and excuse the unhappy cause of all this evil; on my knees I beg your ladyship to receive me to your grace and favour, and you shall find me incapable of any triumph but in your ladyship’s goodness to me.

Creature, said she, art thou to beg an excuse for me?—Art thou to implore my forgiveness? Is it to thee I am to owe the favour, that I am not cast headlong from my brother’s presence? Begone to thy corner, wench! begone, I say, lest thy paramour kill me for trampling thee under my foot!

Rise, my dear Pamela, said my master; rise, dear life of my life; and expose not so much worthiness to the ungrateful scorn of so violent a spirit. And so he led me to my closet again, and there I sat and wept.

Her woman came up, just as he had led me to my closet, and was returning to her lady; and she very humbly said, Excuse my intrusion, good sir!—I hope I may come to my lady. Yes, Mrs. Worden, said he, you may come in; and pray take your lady down stairs with you, for fear I should too much forget what belongs either to my sister or myself!

I began to think (seeing her ladyship so outrageous with her brother) what a happy escape I had had the day before, though hardly enough used in conscience too, as I thought.

Her woman begged her ladyship to walk down; and she said, Beck, seest thou that bed? That was the bed that I was born in; and yet that was the bed thou sawest, as well as I, the wicked Pamela in, this morning, and this brother of mine just risen from her!

True, said he; you both saw it, and it is my pride that you could see it. ‘Tis my bridal bed; and ‘tis abominable that the happiness I knew before you came hither, should be so barbarously interrupted.

Swear to me but, thou bold wretch! said she, swear to me, that Pamela Andrews is really and truly thy lawful wife, without sham, without deceit, without double-meaning; and I know what I have to say!

I’ll humour you for once, said he; and then swore a solemn oath that I was. And, said he, did I not tell you so at first?

I cannot yet believe you, said she; because, in this particular, I had rather have called you knave than fool.—Provoke me not too much, said he; for, if I should as much forget myself as you have done, you’d have no more of a brother in me, than I have a sister in you.

Who married you? said she: tell me that! Was it not a broken attorney in a parson’s habit? Tell me truly, in the wench’s hearing. When she’s undeceived, she’ll know how to behave herself better! Thank God, thought I, it is not so.

No, said he; and I’ll tell you, that I bless God, I abhorred that project, before it was brought to bear: and Mr. Williams married us.—Nay then, said she—but answer me another question or two, I beseech you: Who gave her away? Parson Peters, said he. Where was the ceremony performed? In my little chapel, which you may see, as it was put in order on purpose.

Now, said she, I begin to fear there is something in it! But who was present? said she. Methinks, replied he, I look like a fine puppy, to suffer myself to be thus interrogated by an insolent sister: but, if you must know, Mrs. Jewkes was present. O the procuress! said she: But nobody else? Yes, said he, all my heart and soul!

Wretch! said she; and what would thy father and mother have said, had they lived to this day? Their consents, replied he, I should have thought it my duty to ask; but not yours, madam.

Suppose, said she, I had married my father’s groom! what would you have said to that?—I could not have behaved worse, replied he, than you have done. And would you not have thought, said she, I had deserved it.

Said he, Does your pride let you see no difference in the case you put? None at all, said she. Where can the difference be between a beggar’s son married by a lady, or a beggar’s daughter made a gentleman’s wife?

Then I’ll tell you, replied he; the difference is, a man ennobles the woman he takes, be she who she will; and adopts her into his own rank, be it what it will: but a woman, though ever so nobly born, debases herself by a mean marriage, and descends from her own rank to his she stoops to.

When the royal family of Stuart allied itself into the low family of Hyde, (comparatively low, I mean,) did any body scruple to call the lady, Royal Highness, and Duchess of York? And did any body think her daughters, the late Queen Mary and Queen Anne, less royal for that?

When the broken-fortuned peer goes into the city to marry a rich tradesman’s daughter, be he duke or earl, does not his consort immediately become ennobled by his choice? and who scruples to call her lady, duchess, or countess?

But when a duchess or countess dowager descends to mingle with a person