and your ever dear brother for this blessing!-and not only provided for but made useful to him, to the amount of their provision, well nigh! There is a pride, my lady! Then I shall have better conditions from his generosity to support myself, than I can wish for, or make use of. Then I have my dear, charming Billy-oh, be contented, too charming, and too happy rivaless, with my husband; and tear not from me my dearest baby, the pledge, the beloved pledge of our happier affections, and the dear remembrance of what I once was!-But if, my dear Mr. B——, you doubt the education I can give him, fit for the heir to your great fortune (for such he must be, despised or abandoned as his poor mother may be), and will remove him from me, and grief kill me not before that sad hour, let me have some office, not incompatible with that of his tutor, to instil virtue into his ductile mind; for tutors, although they may make youth learned, do not always make them virtuous; and let me watch over his steps; and wherever he goes, let me go: I shall value no dangers nor risks; the most distant climes shall be native to me, wherever my Billy is; so that I may be a guard, under God, to his morals, that he make no virgin's heart sigh, nor mother's bleed, as mine has done in both states. But how I rave! will your ladyship be apt to say.This is no good symptom, you'll think, that I have reaped at present that consolation from religious considerations which, to a right turn of mind, they will afford in the heaviest misfortunes. But this was only in fear they should take my Billy from me. A thousand pleasing prospects, that had begun to dawn on my mind, I can bear to have dissipated; but I cannot, indeed I cannot permit my dear Mr. B's son and heir to be torn from me. Yet I hope they will not be so cruel; for I will give them no provocation to do it, if I can help it. No lawsuits, no complainings, no asperities of expression, much less bitter reflections, shall they ever have from me. I will be no conscience to them: they will be punished too much, greatly too much, in their own, for what I wish: and they shall always be followed by my prayers. I shall have leisure for that exercise, and shall be happy and serene, when, I doubt, I doubt, they will not be so! But still I am running on in a strain that shows my impatience, rather than my resignation. Yet some struggles must be allowed me: I could not have loved, as I love, if I could easily part with my interest in so beloved a husband-for, madam, my interest I will part with, and will sooner die than live with a gentleman who has another wife, though I was the first.-Let countesses, if they can, and ladies of birth, choose to humble themselves to this baseness-the low-born Pamela cannot stoop to it. Pardon me, madam; you know I only write this with a view to this poor lady's answer to her noble uncle, of which you wrote me word. Friday Is now concluding. I hope I am calmer a great deal: For, being disappointed, in all likelihood, in twenty agreeable schemes and projects, I am now forming new ones, with as much pleasure to myself as I may. For, my lady, 'tis one's duty, you know, to suit one's mind to one's condition; and I hope I shall be enabled to do good in Kent, if I cannot in London, and Bedfordshire, and Lincolnshire. God everywhere provides us with objects on which to exercise one's gratitude and beneficence. I am thinking to try to get good Mrs. Jervis with me. Come, madam, you must not be too much concerned for me. After a while, I shall be no unhappy person; for though I was thankful for my splendid fortunes, and should have been glad, to be sure I should, of continuing in them, with so dear a gentleman; yet a high estate had never such dazzling charms with me, as it has with some: if it had, I could not have resisted so many temptations, possibly, as God enabled me to resist. Saturday night Is now come. 'Tis nine, and no Mr. B. Oh why, as Deborah makes the mother of Sisera say, is his chariot so long in coming? Why tarry the wheels of his chariot? I have this note now at eleven o'clock: 'MY DEAREST PAMELA,—I despatch this messenger, lest expecting me this night, you should be uneasy. I shall not be with you till Monday, when I hope to dine with 'my dearest life. 'Ever affectionately yours.' So I'll go up and pray for him, and then to bed. Yet 'tis a sad thing!-I have had but poor rest for a great while; nor shall have any till my fate is decided.-Hardhearted man, he knows under what uneasiness he left me! Monday, eleven. If God Almighty hears my yesterday's, and indeed my hourly prayers, the dear man will be good still: but my aching heart, every time I think what company he is in (for I find the countess is certainly one of the party), bodes me little satisfaction. He's come! he's come! now, just now, come! I will have my trial over before this night be past, if possible. I'll go down and meet him with love unfeigned, and a duty equal to my love, although he may forget his to me. If I conquer myself on this occasion, I conquer nature, as your ladyship says; and then, by God's grace, I can conquer everything. They have taken their house, I suppose-but what need they, when they'll have one in Bedfordshire, and one in Lincolnshire? But they know best. God bless him, and reform her! That's all the harm I wish them, or will wish them! B My dear Mr. B― has received me with great affection and tenderness. Sure he cannot be so bad!-Sure he cannot ! I know, my dear, said he, I left you in great anxiety; but 'tis an anxiety you have brought upon yourself; and I have not been easy ever since I parted from you. I am sorry for it, sir. Why, my dear love, there is still a melancholy air in your countenance: indeed it seems mingled with a kind of joy; I hope at my return to you. But 'tis easy to see which of the two is the most natural. You should see nothing, sir, that you would not wish to see, if I could help it. I am sorry you cannot. But I am come home to hear all your grievances, and to redress them, if in my power. When, sir, am I to come upon my trial? I have a great deal to say to you. I will tell you everything I think. And as it may be the last grievances, as you are pleased to call them, I may ever trouble you with, you must promise to answer me not one word till I have said all I have to say. For, if it does but hold, I have great courage: I have indeed! You don't know half the sauciness that is in your girl yet; but when I come upon my trial, you'll wonder at my boldness. What means my dearest? taking me into his arms. alarm me exceedingly by this moving sedateness. You Don't let it alarm you, sir! I mean nothing but good! -But I have been preparing myself to tell you all my mind. And as an instance of what you may expect from me, sometimes, sir, I will be your judge, and put home questions to you; and sometimes you shall be mine, and at last pronounce sentence upon me; or, if you won't, I will upon myself; a severe one to me, it shall be, but an agreeable one perhaps to you!-When comes on the trial, sir? He looked steadily upon me, but was silent. And I said, But don't be afraid, sir, that I will invade your province; for though I shall count myself your judge in some cases, you shall be judge paramount still. Dear charmer of my heart! said he, and clasped me to his bosom, what a new PAMELA have I in my arms! A mysterious charmer! Let us instantly go to my closet, or yours, and come upon our mutual trial; for you have fired my soul with impatience! No, sir, if you please we will dine first. I have hardly eaten anything these four days; and your company will give me an appetite perhaps. I shall be pleased to sit down at table with you, sir, taking his hand, and trying to smile upon him; for the moments I shall have of your company may be, some time hence, very precious to my remembrance. I was forced then to turn my head, to hide from him my eyes, brimful as they were of tears. He took me again into his arms:-My dearest Pamela, if you love me, distract not my soul thus, by your dark and mysterious speeches. You are displeased with me; and I thought I had reason, of late, to take something amiss in your conduct; but instead of your suffering by my anger, you have words and an air that penetrate my very soul. Oh, sir! sir! treat me not thus kindly! Put on an angrier brow, or how shall I retain my purpose? How shall I? Dear, dear creature! make not use of all your power to melt me! Half of it is enough. For there is eloquence. in your eyes I cannot resist: but in your present solemn air, and affecting sentences, you mould me to every purpose of your heart; so that I am a mere machine, a passive instrument, to be played upon at your pleasure. Dear, kind sir! how you revive my heart by your goodness! Perhaps I have only been in a frightful dream, and am but just now awakened!-But we will not anticipate our trial. Only, sir, give orders that you are not to be spoken with by anybody, when we have dined; for I must have you all to myself, without interruption. Just as I had said this, a gentleman called on him, and I retired to my chamber, and wrote to this place. VOL. III. N |