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Richardson, Samuel, 1689-1761

"Pamela, or Virtue Rewarded"

--I blame him less than I do her; for who could
expect such artifice in so young a sorceress?
I went to the farther part of the room, and held my face against the
wainscot; and in spite of all I could do to refrain crying, sobbed as if
my heart would break. He said, I am surprised, Mrs. Jewkes, at the
mistake of the letters you tell me of! But, you see, I am not afraid any
body should read what I write. I don't carry on private correspondences,
and reveal every secret that comes to my knowledge, and then corrupt
people to carry my letters against their duty, and all good conscience.
Come hither, hussy! said he: You and I have a dreadful reckoning to make.
Why don't you come, when I bid you?--Fie upon it, Mrs. Pamela, said she.
What! not stir, when his honour commands you to come to him!--Who knows
but his goodness will forgive you?
He came to me, (for I had no power to stir,) and put his arms about my
neck, and would kiss me; and said, Well, Mrs. Jewkes, if it were not for
the thought of this cursed parson, I believe in my heart, so great is my
weakness, that I could not forgive this intriguing little slut, and take
her to my bosom.
O, said the sycophant, you are very good, sir, very forgiving, indeed!--
But come, added the profligate wretch, I hope you will be so good, as to
take her to your bosom; and that, by to-morrow morning, you'll bring her
to a better sense of her duty!
Could any thing in womanhood be so vile? I had no patience: but yet
grief and indignation choaked up the passage of my words; and I could
only stammer out a passionate exclamation to Heaven, to protect my
innocence.


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