Pamela by Samuel Richardson (the false prince series TXT) 📖

My lady said, Thou’rt a good-natured foolish fellow; thou might’st have saved this nonsensical parade, till I had given thee leave. Why, aunt, said he, if they are actually married, there’s no help for it; and we must not make mischief between man and wife.

But brother, said she, do you think I’ll sit at table with the creature? No contemptuous names, I beseech you, Lady Davers! I tell you she is really my wife; and I must be a villain to suffer her to be ill used. She has no protector but me; and, if you will permit her, she will always love and honour you.—Indeed, indeed I will, madam, said I.

I cannot, I won’t sit down at table with her, said she: Pamela, I hope thou dost not think I will?—Indeed, madam, said I, if your good brother will permit it, I will attend your chair all the time you dine, to shew my veneration for your ladyship, as the sister of my kind protector. See, said he, her condition has not altered her; but I cannot permit in her a conduct unworthy of my wife; and I hope my sister will not expect it neither.

Let her leave the room, replied she, if I must stay. Indeed you are out of the way, aunt, said her kinsman; that is not right, as things stand. Said my master, No, madam, that must not be; but, if it must be so, we’ll have two tables; you and your nephew shall sit at one, and my wife and I at the other: and then see what a figure your unreasonable punctilio will make you cut.—She seemed irresolute, and he placed her at the table; the first course, which was fish, being brought in. Where, said she to me, would’st thou presume to sit? Would’st have me give place to thee too, wench?—Come, come, said my master, I’ll put that out of dispute; and so set himself down by her ladyship, at the upper end of the table, and placed me at his left hand. Excuse me, my dear, said he; this once excuse me!—Oh! your cursed complaisance, said she, to such a–-. Hush, sister! hush! said he: I will not bear to hear her spoken slightly of! ‘Tis enough, that, to oblige your violent and indecent caprice, you make me compromise with you thus.

Come, sir, added he, pray take your place next your gentle aunt!—Beck, said she, do you sit down by Pamela there, since it must be so; we’ll be hail fellow all! With all my heart, replied my master; I have so much honour for all the sex, that I would not have the meanest person of it stand, while I sit, had I been to have made the custom. Mrs. Worden, pray sit down. Sir, said she, I hope I shall know my place better.

My lady sat considering; and then, lifting up her hands, said, Lord! what will this world come to?—To nothing but what’s very good, replied my master, if such spirits as Lady Davers’s do but take the rule of it. Shall I help you, sister, to some of the carp? Help your beloved! said she. That’s kind! said he.—Now, that’s my good Lady Davers! Here, my love, let me help you, since my sister desires it.—Mighty well, returned she, mighty well!—But sat on one side, turning from me, as it were.

Dear aunt, said her kinsman, let’s see you buss and be friends: since ‘tis so, what signifies it? Hold thy fool’s tongue! said she: Is thy tone so soon turned since yesterday? said my master, I hope nothing affronting was offered yesterday to my wife, in her own house. She hit him a good smart slap on the shoulder: Take that, impudent brother said she. I’ll wife you, and in her own house! She seemed half afraid: but he, in very good humour, kissed her, and said, I thank you, sister, I thank you. But I have not had a blow from you before for some time!

‘Fore gad, said her kinsman, ‘tis very kind of you to take it so well. Her ladyship is as good a woman as ever lived; but I’ve had many a cuff from her myself.

I won’t put it up neither, said my master, except you’ll assure me you have seen her serve her lord so.

I pressed my foot to his, and said, softly, Don’t, dear sir!—What! said she, is the creature begging me off from insult? If his manners won’t keep him from outraging me, I won’t owe his forebearance to thee, wench.

Said my master, and put some fish on my lady’s plate, Well does Lady Davers use the word insult!—But, come, let me see you eat one mouthful, and I’ll forgive you; and he put the knife in one of her hands, and the fork in the other. As I hope to live, said he, I cannot bear this silly childishness, for nothing at all! I am quite ashamed of it.

She put a little bit to her mouth, but laid it down in her plate again: I cannot eat, said she; I cannot swallow, I’m sure. It will certainly choak me. He had forbid his menservants to come in, that they might not behold the scene he expected; and rose from table himself, and filled a glass of wine, her woman offering, and her kinsman rising, to do it. Meantime, his seat between us being vacant, she turned to me: How now, confidence, said she, darest thou sit next me? Why dost thou not rise, and take the glass from thy property?

Sit still, my dear, said he; I’ll help you both. But I arose; for I was afraid of a good cuff; and said, Pray, sir, let me help my lady. So you shall, replied he, when she’s in a humour to receive it as she ought. Sister, said he, with a glass in his hand, pray drink; you’ll perhaps eat a little bit of something then. Is this to insult me? said she.—No, really, returned he: but to incite you to eat; for you’ll be sick for want of it.

She took the glass, and said, God forgive you, wicked wretch, for your usage of me this day!—This is a little as it used to be!—I once had your love;—and now it is changed; and for whom? that vexes me! And wept so, she was forced to set down the glass.

You don’t do well, said he. You neither treat me like your brother nor a gentleman; and if you would suffer me, I would love you as well as ever. —But for a woman of sense and understanding, and a fine-bred woman, as I once thought my sister, you act quite a childish part. Come, added he, and held the glass to her lips, let your brother, that you once loved, prevail on you to drink this glass of wine.—She then drank it. He kissed her, and said, Oh! how passion deforms the noblest minds! You have lost a good deal of that loveliness that used to adorn my sister. And let me persuade you to compose yourself, and be my sister again!—For Lady Davers is, indeed, a fine woman; and has a presence as majestic for a lady, as her dear brother has for a gentleman.

He then sat down between us again, and said, when the second course came in, Let Abraham come in and wait. I touched his toe again; but he minded it not; and I saw he was right; for her ladyship began to recollect herself, and did not behave half so ill before the servants, as she had done; and helped herself with some little freedom; but she could not forbear a strong sigh and a sob now and then. She called for a glass of the same wine she had drank before. Said he, Shall I help you again, Lady Davers?—and rose, at the same time, and went to the sideboard, and filled her a glass. Indeed, said she, I love to be soothed by my brother!—Your health, sir!

Said my master to me, with great sweetness, My dear, now I’m up, I’ll fill for you!—I must serve both sisters alike! She looked at the servant, as if he were a little check upon her, and said to my master, How now, sir!—Not that you know of. He whispered her, Don’t shew any contempt before my servants to one I have so deservedly made their mistress. Consider, ‘tis done.—Ay, said she, that’s the thing that kills me.

He gave me a glass: My good lady’s health, sir, said I.—That won’t do, said she, leaning towards me, softly: and was going to say wench, or creature, or some such word. And my master, seeing Abraham look towards her, her eyes being red and swelled, said, Indeed, sister, I would not vex myself about it, if I was you. About what? said she. Why, replied he, about your lord’s not coming down, as he had promised. He sat down, and she tapped him on the shoulder: Ah! wicked one, said she, nor will that do neither!—Why, to be sure, added he, it would vex a lady of your sense and merit to be slighted, if it was so; but I am sure my lord loves you, as well as you love him; and you know not what may have happened.

She shook her head, and said, That’s like your art!—This makes one amazed you should be so caught!—Who, my lord caught! said he: No, no! he’ll have more wit than so! But I never heard you were jealous before. Nor, said he, have you any reason to think so now!—Honest friend, you need not wait, said she; my woman will help us to what we want. Yes, let him, replied he. Abraham, fill me a glass. Come, said my master, Lord Davers to you, madam: I hope he’ll take care he is not found out!—You’re very provoking, brother, said she. I wish you were as good as Lord Davers.—But don’t carry your jest too far. Well, said he, ‘tis a tender point, I own. I’ve done.

By these kind managements the dinner passed over better than I expected. And when the servants were withdrawn, my master said, still keeping his place between us, I have a question to ask you, Lady Davers, and that is, If you’ll bear me company to Bedfordshire? I was intending to set out thither tomorrow, but I’ll tarry your pleasure, if you’ll go with me.

Is thy wife, as thou callest her, to go along with thee, friend? said she. Yes, to be sure, answered he, my dear Quaker sister; and took her hand, and smiled. And would’st have me parade it with her on the road?— Hey?—And make one to grace her retinue?—Hey? Tell me how thoud’st chalk it out, if I would do as thou would’st have me, honest friend?

He clasped his arms about her, and kissed her: You are a dear saucy sister, said he; but I must love you!—Why, I’ll tell you how I’d have it. Here shall you, and my Pamela—Leave out my, I desire you, if you’d have me sit patiently. No, replied he, I can’t do that. Here shall you, and my Pamela, go together in your chariot, if you please; and she will then appear as one of your retinue; and your nephew and I will sometimes ride, and sometimes go into my chariot, to your woman.

Should’st thou like this, creature? said she to me.—If your ladyship think it not too great an honour for me, madam, said I. Yes, replied she, but my ladyship does think it would be too great an honour.

Now I think of it, said he, this must not be neither; for, without you’d give her the hand in your own chariot,