Pamela, or Virtue Rewarded. Сэмюэл Ричардсон

down for all my wretched life! Black-hearted wretch! how I hate him!—For, at first, as you’ll see by what I have written, he would have made me believe other things; and this of Mr. Williams, I suppose, came into his head after he walked out from his closet, to give himself time to think how to delude me better: but the covering was now too thin, and easy to be seen through.

      I went to my chamber, and the first thing I did was to write to him; for I thought it was best not to see him again, if I could help it; and I put it under his parlour door, after I had copied it, as follows:

      ‘HONOURED SIR,

      ‘Your last proposal to me convinces me, that I ought not to stay, but to go to my father, if it were but to ask his advice about Mr. Williams. And I am so set upon it, that I am not to be persuaded. So, honoured sir, with a thousand thanks for all favours, I will set out to-morrow early; and the honour you designed me, as Mrs. Jervis tells me, of your chariot, there will be no occasion for: because I can hire, I believe, farmer Brady’s chaise. So, begging you will not take it amiss, I shall ever be ‘Your dutiful Servant.’

      ‘As to the purse, sir, my poor father, to be sure, won’t forgive me, if I take it, till he can know how to deserve it which is impossible.’

      So he has just now sent Mrs. Jervis to tell me, that since I am resolved to go, go I may, and the travelling chariot shall be ready; but it shall be worse for me; for that he will never trouble himself about me as long as he lives. Well, so I get out of the house, I care not; only I should have been glad I could, with innocence, have made you, my dear parents, happy.

      I cannot imagine the reason of it, but John, who I thought was gone with my last, is but now going; and he sends to know if I have any thing else to carry. So I break off to send you this with the former.

      I am now preparing for my journey, and about taking leave of my good fellow-servants: and if I have not time to write, I must tell you the rest, when I am so happy as to be with you.

      One word more: I slip in a paper of verses, on my going: sad poor stuff! but as they come from me, you’ll not dislike them, may be. I shewed them to Mrs. Jervis, and she liked them, and took a copy; and made one sing them to her, and in the green-room too; but I looked into the closet first. I will only add, that I am Your dutiful DAUGHTER.

      Let me just say, That he has this moment sent me five guineas by Mrs. Jervis, as a present for my pocket: So I shall be very rich; for as she brought them, I thought I might take them. He says he won’t see me: and I may go when I will in the morning; and Lincolnshire Robin shall drive me: but he is so angry, he orders that nobody shall go out at the door with me, not so much as into the coach-yard. Well! I can’t help it, not I! But does not this expose himself more than me?

      But John waits, and I would have brought this and the other myself; but he says, he has put it up among other things, and so can take both as well as one.

      John is very good, and very honest; I am under great obligations to him. I’d give him a guinea, now I’m so rich, if I thought he’d take it. I hear nothing of my lady’s clothes, and those my master gave me: for I told Mrs. Jervis, I would not take them; but I fancy, by a word or two that was dropped, they will be sent after me. Dear sirs! what a rich Pamela you’ll have if they should! But as I can’t wear them if they do, I don’t desire them; and if I have them, will turn them into money, as I can have opportunity. Well, no more—I’m in a fearful hurry!

VERSES ON MY GOING AWAYI

        My fellow-servants dear, attend

        To these few lines, which I have penn’d:

        I’m sure they’re from your honest friend,

        And wisher-well, poor PAMELA.

II

        I, from a state of low degree,

        Was plac’d in this good family:

        Too high a fate for humble me,

        The helpless, hopeless PAMELA.

III

        Yet though my happy lot was so,

        Joyful, I homeward from it go,

        No less content, when poor and low,

        Than here you find your PAMELA.

IV

        For what indeed is happiness,

        But conscience innocence and peace?

        And that’s a treasure I possess;

        Thank Heaven that gave it PAMELA.

V

        My future lot I cannot know

        But this I’m sure, where’er I go,

        Whate’er I am, whate’er I do,

        I’ll be the grateful PAMELA.

VI

        No sad regrets my heart annoy,

        I’ll pray for all your peace and joy,

        From master high, to scullion boy,

        For all your loves to PAMELA.

VII

        One thing or two I’ve more to say;

        God’s holy will, be sure, obey;

        And for our master always pray,

        As ever shall poor PAMELA.

VIII

        For, oh! we pity should the great,

        Instead of envying their estate;

        Temptations always on ‘em wait,

        Exempt from which are such as we.

IX

        Their riches, gay deceitful snares,

        Enlarge their fears, increase their cares

        Their servants’ joy surpasses theirs;

        At least so judges PAMELA.

X

        Your parents and relations love

        Let them your duty ever prove;

        And you’ll be bless’d by Heav’n above,

        As will, I hope, poor PAMELA.

XI

        For if asham’d I e’er could be

        Of my dear parents’ low degree,

        What lot had been too mean for me,

        Unbless’d, unvirtuous PAMELA.

XII

        Thrice happy may you ever be,

        Each one in his and her degree;

        And, sirs, whene’er you think of me,

        Pray for content to PAMELA.

XIII

        Pray for her wish’d content and peace;

        And rest assur’d she’ll never cease,

        To pray for all your joys increase,

        While life is lent to PAMELA.

XIV

        On God all future good depends:

        Serve him.  And so my sonnet ends,

        With, thank ye, thank ye, honest friends,

        For all your loves to PAMELA,

      Here it is necessary the reader should know, that the fair Pamela’s trials were not yet over; but the worst were to come, at a time when she thought them at an end, and that she was returning to her father: for when her master found her virtue was not to be subdued, and he had in vain tried to conquer his passion for her, being a gentleman of pleasure and intrigue, he had ordered his Lincolnshire coachman to bring his travelling chariot from thence, not caring to trust his Bedfordshire coachman,