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Richardson, Samuel, 1689-1761

"Pamela, or Virtue Rewarded"


And distress indeed! For here I am still; and every thing has been worse
and worse! Oh! the poor unhappy Pamela!--Without any hope left, and
ruined in all my contrivances. But, oh! my dear parents, rejoice with
me, even in this low plunge of my distress; for your poor Pamela has
escaped from an enemy worse than any she ever met with; an enemy she
never thought of before, and was hardly able to stand against: I mean,
the weakness and presumption, both in one, of her own mind; which had
well nigh, had not the divine grace interposed, sunk her into the lowest,
last abyss of misery and perdition!
I will proceed, as I have opportunity, with my sad relation: for my pen
and ink (in my now doubly-secured closet) are all I have to employ myself
with: and indeed I have been so weak, that, till yesterday evening, I
have not been able to hold a pen.
I took with me but one shift, besides what I had on, and two
handkerchiefs, and two caps, which my pocket held, (for it was not for me
to encumber myself,) and all my stock of money, which was but five or six
shillings, to set out for I knew not where; and got out of the window,
not without some difficulty, sticking a little at my shoulders and hips;
but I was resolved to get out, if possible.


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