Pamela, Or Virtue Rewarded

Mrs. Jervis began to excuse me, and to beg he would pity a poor maiden,

that had such a value for her reputation. He said, I speak it to her

face, I think her very pretty, and I thought her humble, and one that

would not grow upon my favours, or the notice I took of her; but I abhor

the thoughts of forcing her to any thing. I know myself better, said he,

and what belongs to me: And to be sure I have enough demeaned myself to

take notice of such a one as she; but I was bewitched by her, I think,

to be freer than became me; though I had no intention to carry the jest

farther. What poor stuff was all this, my dear mother, from a man of his sense!

But see how a bad cause and bad actions confound the greatest wits!--It

gave me a little more courage then; for innocence, I find, in a low

fortune, and weak mind, has many advantages over guilt, with all its

riches and wisdom. So I said, Your honour may call this jest or sport, or what you please;

but indeed, sir, it is not a jest that becomes the distance between a

master and a servant. Do you hear, Mrs. Jervis? said he: do you hear the

pertness of the creature? I had a good deal of this sort before in the

summer-house, and yesterday too, which made me rougher with her than

perhaps I had otherwise been.

Says Mrs. Jervis, Pamela, don't be so pert to his honour: you should

know your distance; you see his honour was only in jest.--O dear Mrs.

Jervis, said I, don't you blame me too. It is very difficult to

keep one's distance to the greatest of men, when they won't keep it

themselves to their meanest servants.

See again! said he; could you believe this of the young baggage, if you

had not heard it? Good your honour, said the well-meaning gentlewoman,

pity and forgive the poor girl; she is but a girl, and her virtue is

very dear to her; and I will pawn my life for her, she will never be

pert to your honour, if you'll be so good as to molest her no more, nor

frighten her again. You saw, sir, by her fit, she was in terror; she

could not help it; and though your honour intended her no harm, yet the

apprehension was almost death to her: and I had much ado to bring her to

herself again. O the little hypocrite! said he; she has all the arts of

her sex; they were born with her; and I told you awhile ago you did

not know her. But this was not the reason principally of my calling you

before me together. I find I am likely to suffer in my reputation by the

perverseness and folly of this girl. She has told you all, and perhaps

more than all; nay, I make no doubt of it; and she has written letters

(for I find she is a mighty letter-writer!) to her father and mother,

and others, as far as I know, in which representing herself as an

angel of light, she makes her kind master and benefactor, a devil

incarnate--(O how people will sometimes, thought I, call themselves by

their right names!)--And all this, added he, I won't hear; and so I am

resolved she shall return to the distresses and poverty she was taken

from; and let her be careful how she uses my name with freedom, when she

is gone from me.