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Richardson, Samuel, 1689-1761

"Pamela, or Virtue Rewarded"

I said, I have no clothes, sir, I ought to call my own, but
these: and it is no matter what such an one as I wears. Said he, Why you
look very serious, Pamela. I see you can bear malice.--Yes, so I can,
sir, said I, according to the occasion! Why, said he, your eyes always
look red, I think. Are you not a fool to take my last freedom so much to
heart? I am sure you, and that fool Mrs. Jervis, frightened me, by your
hideous squalling, as much as I could frighten you. That is all we had
for it, said I; and if you could be so afraid of your own servants
knowing of your attempts upon a poor unworthy creature, that is under
your protection while I stay, surely your honour ought to be more afraid
of God Almighty, in whose presence we all stand, in every action of our
lives, and to whom the greatest, as well as the least, must be
accountable, let them think what they list.
He took my hand, in a kind of good-humoured mockery, and said, Well
urged, my pretty preacher! When my Lincolnshire chaplain dies, I'll put
thee on a gown and cassock, and thou'lt make a good figure in his place.
--I wish, said I, a little vexed at his jeer, your honour's conscience
would be your preacher, and then you would need no other chaplain. Well,
well, Pamela, said he, no more of this unfashionable jargon.


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