But, begone! said he,
taking my hand, and tossing it from him, and learn another conduct and
more wit; and I will lay aside my foolish regard for you, and assert
myself. Begone! said he, again, with a haughty air.
Indeed, sir, said I, I cannot go, till you pardon me, which I beg on my
bended knees. I am truly sorry for my boldness.--But I see how you go
on: you creep by little and little upon me; and now soothe me, and now
threaten me; and if I should forbear to shew my resentment, when you
offer incivilities to me, would not that be to be lost by degrees? Would
it not shew, that I could bear any thing from you, if I did not express
all the indignation I could express, at the first approaches you make to
what I dread? And have you not as good as avowed my ruin?--And have you
once made me hope you will quit your purposes against me? How then, sir,
can I act, but by shewing my abhorrence of every step that makes towards
my undoing? And what is left me but words?--And can these words be other
than such strong ones, as shall shew the detestation which, from the
bottom of my heart, I have for every attempt upon my virtue? Judge for
me, sir, and pardon me.
Pardon you! said he, What! when you don't repent?--When you have the
boldness to justify yourself in your fault? Why don't you say, you never
will again offend me? I will endeavour, sir, said I, always to preserve
that decency towards you which becomes me.
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