When I came near the house, I said, sitting down upon a settle-bench, Well, I will not go in, till you say you forgive me, Mrs. Jewkes.—If you will forgive my calling you that name, I will forgive your beating me.—She sat down by me, and seemed in a great pucker2, and said, Well, come, I will forgive you for this time: and so kissed me, as a mark of reconciliation3.—But pray, said I, tell me where I am to walk and go, and give me what liberty you can; and when I know the most you can favour me with, you shall see I will be as content as I can, and not ask you for more.
Ay, said she, this is something like: I wish I could give you all the liberty you desire; for you must think it is no pleasure to me to tie you to my petticoat, as it were, and not let you stir without me.—But people that will do their duties, must have some trouble: and what I do, is to serve as good a master, to be sure, as lives.—Yes, said I, to every body but me! He loves you too well, to be sure, returned she; and that's the reason: so you ought to bear it. I say, love! replied I. Come, said she, don't let the wench see you have been crying, nor tell her any tales: for you won't tell them fairly, I am sure: and I'll send her, and you shall take another walk in the garden, if you will: May be it will get you a stomach to your dinner: for you don't eat enough to keep life and soul together. You are beauty to the bone, added the strange wretch4, or you could not look so well as you do, with so little stomach, so little rest, and so much pining and whining5 for nothing at all. Well, thought I, say what thou wilt6, so I can be rid of thy bad tongue and company: and I hope to find some opportunity now to come at my sunflower. But I walked the other way, to take that in my return, to avoid suspicion.
I forced my discourse7 to the maid; but it was all upon general things; for I find she is asked after every thing I say and do. When I came near the place, as I had been devising, I said, Pray step to the gardener, and ask him to gather a sallad for me to dinner. She called out, Jacob! said I, He can't hear you so far off; and pray tell him, I should like a cucumber too, if he has one. When she had stept about a bow-shot from me, I popt down, and whipt my fingers under the upper tile, and pulled out a letter without direction, and thrust it in my bosom8, trembling for joy. She was with me, before I could well secure it; and I was in such a taking that I feared I should discover myself. You seem frightened, madam, said she; Why, said I, with a lucky thought, (alas9! your poor daughter will make an intriguer10 by and by; but I hope an innocent one!) I stooped to smell at the sunflower, and a great nasty worm ran into the ground, that startled me; for I can't abide11 worms. Said she, Sunflowers don't smell. So I find, replied I. And then we walked in; and Mrs. Jewkes said; Well, you have made haste now.—You shall go another time.
I went up to my closet, locked myself in, and opening my letter, found in it these words:
'I am infinitely12 concerned for your distress13. I most heartily14 wish it may be in my power to serve and save so much innocence15, beauty, and merit. My whole dependance is upon Mr. B——, and I have a near view of being provided for by his favour to me. But yet I would sooner forfeit16 all my hopes in him, (trusting in God for the rest,) than not assist you, if possible. I never looked upon Mr. B—— in the light he now appears in to me, in your case. To be sure, he is no professed17 debauchee. But I am entirely18 of opinion, you should, if possible, get out of his hands; and especially as you are in very bad ones in Mrs. Jewkes's.
'We have here the widow Lady Jones, mistress of a good fortune; and a woman of virtue20, I believe. We have also old Sir Simon Darnford, and his lady, who is a good woman; and they have two daughters, virtuous21 young ladies. All the rest are but middling people, and traders, at best. I will try, if you please, either Lady Jones, or Lady Darnford, if they'll permit you to take refuge with them. I see no probability of keeping myself concealed22 in this matter; but will, as I said, risk all things to serve you; for I never saw a sweetness and innocence like yours; and your hard case has attached me entirely to you; for I know, as you so happily express, if I can serve you in this case, I shall thereby23 perform all the acts of religion in one.
'As to Lady Davers, I will convey a letter, if you please, to her; but it must not be from our post-house, I give you caution; for the man owes all his bread to Mr. B——, and his place too; and I believe, by something that dropt from him, over a can of ale, has his instructions. You don't know how you are surrounded; all which confirms me in your opinion, that no honour is meant you, let what will be professed; and I am glad you want no caution on that head.
'Give me leave to say, that I had heard much in your praise; but, I think, greatly short of what you deserve, both as to person and mind: My eyes convince me of the one, your letter of the other. For fear of losing the present lucky opportunity, I am longer than otherwise I should be. But I will not enlarge, any further than to assure you that I am, to the best of my power,
'Your faithful friend and servant,
'ARTHUR WILLIAMS.'
'I will come once every morning, and once every evening, after school-time, to look for your letters. I'll come in, and return without going into the house, if I see the coast clear: Otherwise, to avoid suspicion, I'll come in.'
I instantly, in answer to this pleasing letter, wrote as follows:
'REVEREND SIR,
'O how suited to your function, and your character, is your kind letter! God bless you for it! I now think I am beginning to be happy. I should be sorry to have you suffer on my account: but I hope it will be made up to you an hundred-fold, by that God whom you so faithfully serve. I should be too happy, could I ever have it in my power to contribute in the least to it. But, alas! to serve me, must be for God's sake only; for I am poor and lowly in fortune; though in mind, I hope, too high to do a mean or unworthy deed to gain a kingdom. But I lose time.——
'Any way you think best, I should be pleased with; for I know not the persons, nor in what manner it is best to apply to them. I am glad of the hint you so kindly24 give me of the man at the post-house. I was thinking of opening a way for myself by letter, when I could have opportunity; but I see more and more that I am, indeed, strangely surrounded with dangers; and that there is no dependance to be made on my master's honour.
'I should think, sir, if either of those ladies would give leave, I might some way get out by favour of your key: and as it is impossible, watched as I am, to know when it can be, suppose, sir, you get one made by it, and put it, the next opportunity, under the sunflower?—I am sure no time is to be lost, because it is rather my wonder, that she is not thoughtful about this key, than otherwise; for she forgets not the minutest thing. But, sir, if I had this key, I could, if these ladies would not shelter me, run away any where: and if I was once out of the house, they could have no pretence25 to force me again; for I have done no harm, and hope to make my story good to any compassionate26 body; and by this way you need not to be known. Torture should not wring27 it from me, I assure you.
'One thing more, good sir. Have you no correspondence with my master's Bedfordshire family? By that means, may be, I could be informed of his intention of coming hither, and when I enclose you a letter of a deceitful wretch; for I can trust you with any thing; poor John Arnold. Its contents will tell why I enclose it. Perhaps by his means, something may be discovered; for he seems willing to atone28 for his treachery to me, by the intimation of future service. I leave the hint to you to improve upon, and am,
'Reverend Sir,
'Your for ever obliged, and thankful servant.'
'I hope, sir, by your favour, I could send a little packet, now and then, some how, to my poor father and mother. I have a little stock of money, about five or six guineas: Shall I put half in your hands, to defray the charge of a man and horse, or any other incidents?'
I had but just time to transcribe29 this, before I was called to dinner; and I put that for Mr. Williams, with a wafer in it, in my bosom, to get an opportunity to lay it in the dear place.
O good sirs, of all the flowers in the garden, the sunflower, sure, is the loveliest!—It is a propitious30 one to me! How nobly my plot succeeds! But I begin to be afraid my writings may be discovered; for they grow large: I stitch them hitherto in my under-coat, next my linen31. But if this brute32 should search me—I must try to please her, and then she won't.
Well, I am but just come off from a walk in the garden, and have deposited my letter by a simple wile33. I got some horse-beans; and we took a turn in the garden, to angle, as Mrs. Jewkes had promised me. She baited the hook, and I held it, and soon hooked a lovely carp. Play it, play it, said she: I did, and brought it to the bank. A sad thought just then came into my head; and I took it, and threw it in again; and O the pleasure it seemed to have, to flounce in, when at liberty!—Why this? says she. O Mrs. Jewkes! said I, I was thinking this poor carp was the unhappy Pamela. I was likening you and myself to my naughty master. As we hooked and deceived the poor carp, so was I betrayed by false baits; and when you said, Play it, play it, it went to my heart, to think I should sport with the destruction of the poor fish I had betrayed; and I could not but fling it in again: and did you not see the joy with which the happy carp flounced from us? O! said I, may some good merciful body procure34 me my liberty in the same manner; for to be sure, I think my danger equal!
Lord bless thee! said she, what a thought is there!—Well, I can angle no more, added I. I'll try my fortune, said she, and took the rod. Do, answered I; and I will plant life, if I can, while you are destroying it. I have some horse-beans here, and will go and stick them in one of the borders, to see how long they will be coming up; and I will call them my garden.
So you see, dear father and mother, (I hope now you will soon see; for, may be, if I can't get away so soon myself, I may send my papers some how; I say you will see,) that this furnishes me with a good excuse to look after my garden another time; and if the mould should look a little freshish, it won't be so much suspected. She mistrusted nothing of this; and I went and stuck in here and there my beans, for about the length of five ells, of each side of the sunflower; and easily deposited my letter. And not a little proud am I of this contrivance. Sure something will do at last!
Friday, Saturday.
I have just now told you a trick of mine; now I'll tell you a trick of this wicked woman's. She comes up to me: Says she, I have a bill I cannot change till to-morrow; and a tradesman wants his money most sadly: and I don't love to turn poor trades-folks away without their money: Have you any about you? I have a little, replied I: How much will do? Oh! said she, I want eight pounds. Alack! said I, I have but between five and six. Lend me that, said she, till to-morrow. I did so; and she went down stairs: and when she came up, she laughed, and said, Well, I have paid the tradesman. Said I, I hope you'll give it me again to-morrow. At that, the assurance, laughing loud, said, Why, what occasion have you for money? To tell you the truth, lambkin, I didn't want it. I only feared you might make a bad use of it; and now I can trust Nan with you a little oftener, especially as I have got the key of your portmanteau; so that you can neither corrupt35 her with money, nor fine things. Never did any body look more silly than I.—O how I fretted36, to be so foolishly outwitted!—And the more, as I had hinted to Mr. Williams, that I would put some in his hands to defray the charges of my sending to you. I cried for vexation.—And now I have not five shillings left to support me, if I can get away.—Was ever such a fool as I! I must be priding myself in my contrivances, indeed! said I. Was this your instructions, wolfkin? (for she called me lambkin). Jezebel, you mean, child! said she.—Well, I now forgive you heartily; let's buss and be friends.—Out upon you said I; I cannot bear you!—But I durst not call her names again; for I dread37 her huge paw most sadly. The more I think of this thing, the more do I regret it, and blame myself.
This night the man from the post-house brought a letter for Mrs. Jewkes, in which was one enclosed for me: She brought it me up. Said she, Well, my good master don't forget us. He has sent you a letter: and see what he writes to me. So she read, That he hoped her fair charge was well, happy, and contented38. Ay, to be sure, said I, I can't choose—That he did not doubt her care and kindness to me: that I was very dear to him, and she could not use me too well; and the like. There's a master for you! said she: sure you will love and pray for him. I desired her to read the rest. No, no, said she, but I won't. Said I, Are there any orders for taking my shoes away, and for beating me? No, said she, nor about Jezebel neither. Well, returned I, I cry truce39; for I have no mind to be beat again. I thought, said she, we had forgiven one another.
My letter is as follows:
'MY DEAR PAMELA,
'I begin to repent40 already, that I have bound myself, by promise, not to see you till you give me leave; for I think the time very tedious. Can you place so much confidence in me, as to invite me down? Assure yourself, that your generosity41 shall not be thrown away upon me. I the rather would press this, as I am uneasy for your uneasiness; for Mrs. Jewkes acquaints me, that you take your restraint very heavily; and neither eat, drink, nor rest well; and I have too great interest in your health, not to wish to shorten the time of this trial; which will be the consequence of my coming down to you. John, too, has intimated to me your concern, with a grief that hardly gave him leave for utterance42; a grief that a little alarmed my tenderness for you. Not that I fear any thing, but that your disregard to me, which yet my proud heart will hardly permit me to own, may throw you upon some rashness, that might encourage a daring hope: But how poorly do I descend43, to be anxious about such a menial as he!—I will only say one thing, that if you will give me leave to attend you at the Hall, (consider who it is that requests this from you as a favour,) I solemnly declare, that you shall have cause to be pleased with this obliging mark of your confidence in me, and consideration for me; and if I find Mrs. Jewkes has not behaved to you with the respect due to one I so dearly love, I will put it entirely into your power to discharge her the house, if you think proper; and Mrs. Jervis, or who else you please, shall attend you in her place. This I say on a hint John gave me, as if you resented something from that quarter. Dearest Pamela, answer favourably44 this earnest request of one that cannot live without you, and on whose honour to you, you may absolutely depend; and so much the more, as you place a confidence in it. I am, and assuredly ever will be,
'Your faithful and affectionate, etc.'
'You will be glad, I know, to hear your father and mother are well, and easy upon your last letter. That gave me a pleasure that I am resolved you shall not repent. Mrs. Jewkes will convey to me your answer.'
I but slightly read this letter for the present, to give way to one I had hopes of finding by this time from Mr. Williams. I took an evening turn, as I called it, in Mrs. Jewkes's company: and walking by the place, I said, Do you think, Mrs. Jewkes, any of my beans can have struck since yesterday? She laughed, and said, You are a poor gardener: but I love to see you divert yourself. She passing on, I found my good friend had provided for me; and, slipping it in my bosom, (for her back was towards me,) Here, said I, (having a bean in my hand,) is one of them; but it has not stirred. No, to be sure, said she, and turned upon me a most wicked jest, unbecoming the mouth of a woman, about planting, etc. When I came in, I hied to my closet, and read as follows:
'I am sorry to tell you that I have had a repulse45 from Lady Jones. She is concerned at your case, she says, but don't care to make herself enemies. I applied46 to Lady Darnford, and told her in the most pathetic manner I could, your sad story, and shewed her your more pathetic letter. I found her well disposed, but she would advise with Sir Simon, who by the by is not a man of an extraordinary character for virtue; but he said to his lady in my presence, 'Why, what is all this, my dear, but that our neighbour has a mind to his mother's waiting-maid! And if he takes care she wants for nothing, I don't see any great injury will be done her. He hurts no family by this:' (So, my dear father and mother, it seems that poor people's honesty is to go for nothing) 'And I think, Mr. Williams, you, of all men, should not engage in this affair, against your friend and patron.' He spoke47 this in so determined48 a manner, that the lady had done; and I had only to beg no notice should be taken of the matter as from me.
'I have hinted your case to Mr. Peters, the minister of this parish; but I am concerned to say, that he imputed49 selfish views to me, as if I would make an interest in your affections by my zeal51. And when I represented the duties of our function, and the like, and protested my disinterestedness52, he coldly said, I was very good; but was a young man, and knew little of the world. And though it was a thing to be lamented53, yet when he and I should set about to reform mankind in this respect, we should have enough upon our hands; for, he said, it was too common and fashionable a case to be withstood by a private clergyman or two: and then he uttered some reflections upon the conduct of the present fathers of the church, in regard to the first personages of the realm, as a justification55 of his coldness on this score.
'I represented the different circumstances of your affair; that other women lived evilly by their own consent, but to serve you, was to save an innocence that had but few examples; and then I shewed him your letter.
'He said it was prettily56 written: and he was sorry for you; and that your good intentions ought to be encouraged: But what, said he, would you have me do, Mr. Williams? Why suppose, sir, said I, you give her shelter in your house, with your spouse57 and niece, till she can get to her friends.—What! and embroil58 myself with a man of Mr. B——'s power and fortune! No, not I, I'll assure you!—And I would have you consider what you are about. Besides, she owns, continued he, that he promises to do honourably59 by her; and her shyness will procure her good terns enough; for he is no covetous60 nor wicked gentleman, except in this case; and 'tis what all young gentlemen will do.
'I am greatly concerned for him, I assure you: but I am not discouraged by this ill success, let what will come of it, if I can serve you.
'I don't hear, as yet, that Mr. B—— is coming. I am glad of your hint as to that unhappy fellow John Arnold. Something, perhaps, will strike out from that, which may be useful. As to your packets, if you seal them up, and lay them in the usual place, if you find it not suspected, I will watch an opportunity to convey them; but if they are large, you had best be very cautious. This evil woman, I find, mistrusts me much.
'I just hear, that the gentleman is dying, whose living Mr. B—— has promised me. I have almost a scruple61 to take it, as I am acting62 so contrary to his desires: but I hope he will one day thank me for it. As to money, don't think of it at present. Be assured you may command all in my power to do for you without reserve.
'I believe, when we hear he is coming, it will be best to make use of the key, which I shall soon procure you; and I can borrow a horse for you, I believe, to wait within half a mile of the back-door, over the pasture; and will contrive63, by myself, or somebody, to have you conducted some miles distant, to one of the villages thereabouts; so don't be discomforted, I beseech64 you. I am, excellent Mrs. Pamela,
'Your faithful friend, etc.'
I made a thousand sad reflections upon the former part of this honest gentleman's kind letter; and but for the hope he gave me at last, should have given up my case as quite desperate. I then wrote to thank him most gratefully for his kind endeavours; to lament54 the little concern the gentry65 had for my deplorable case; the wickedness of the world, first to give way to such iniquitous66 fashions, and then plead the frequency of them, against the attempt to amend67 them; and how unaffected people were with the distresses68 of others. I recalled my former hint as to writing to Lady Davers, which I feared, I said, would only serve to apprise69 her brother, that she knew his wicked scheme, and more harden him in it, and make him come down the sooner, and to be the more determined on my ruin; besides that it might make Mr. Williams guessed at, as a means of conveying my letter: And being very fearful, that if that good lady would interest herself in my behalf, (which was a doubt, because she both loved and feared her brother,) it would have no effect upon him; and that therefore I would wait the happy event I might hope for from his kind assistance in the key, and the horse. I intimated my master's letter, begging to be permitted to come down: was fearful it might be sudden; and that I was of opinion no time was to be lost; for we might let slip all our opportunities; telling him the money trick of this vile70 woman, etc.
I had not time to take a copy of this letter, I was so watched. And when I had it ready in my bosom, I was easy. And so I went to seek out Mrs. Jewkes, and told her, I would have her advice upon the letter I had received from my master; which point of confidence in her pleased her not a little. Ay, said she, now this is something like: and we'll take a turn in the garden, or where you please. I pretended it was indifferent to me; and so we walked into the garden. I began to talk to her of the letter; but was far from acquainting her with all the contents; only that he wanted my consent to come down, and hoped she used me kindly, and the like. And I said, Now, Mrs. Jewkes, let me have your advice as to this. Why then, said she, I will give it you freely; E'en send to him to come down. It will highly oblige him, and I dare say you'll fare the better for it. How the better? said I.—I dare say, you think yourself, that he intends my ruin. I hate, said she, that foolish word, your ruin!—Why, ne'er a lady in the land may live happier than you if you will, or be more honourably used.
Well, Mrs. Jewkes, said I, I shall not, at this time, dispute with you about the words ruin and honourable71: for I find we have quite different notions of both: But now I will speak plainer than ever I did. Do you think he intends to make proposals to me as to a kept mistress, or kept slave rather, or do you not?—Why, lambkin, said she, what dost thou think thyself?—I fear, said I, he does. Well, said she, but if he does, (for I know nothing of the matter, I assure you,) you may have your own terms—I see that; for you may do any thing with him.
I could not bear this to be spoken, though it was all I feared of a long time; and began to exclaim most sadly. Nay72, said she, he may marry you, as far as I know.—No, no, said I, that cannot be.—I neither desire nor expect it. His condition don't permit me to have such a thought; and that, and the whole series of his conduct, convinces me of the contrary; and you would have me invite him to come down, would you? Is not this to invite my ruin?
'Tis what I would do, said she, in your place; and if it was to be as you think, I should rather be out of my pain, than live in continual frights and apprehensions73, as you do. No, replied I, an hour of innocence is worth an age of guilt75; and were my life to be made ever so miserable76 by it, I should never forgive myself, if I were not to lengthen77 out to the longest minute my happy time of honesty. Who knows what Providence78 may do for me!
Why, may be, said she, as he loves you so well, you may prevail upon him by your prayers and tears; and for that reason, I should think, you'd better let him come down. Well, said I, I will write him a letter, because he expects an answer, or may be he will make a pretence to come down. How can it go?
I'll take care of that, said she; it is in my instructions.—Ay, thought I, so I doubt, by the hint Mr. Williams gave me about the post-house.
The gardener coming by, I said, Mr. Jacob, I have planted a few beans, and I call the place my garden. It is just by the door out yonder: I'll shew it you; pray don't dig them up. So I went on with him; and when we had turned the alley79, out of her sight and were near the place said I, Pray step to Mrs. Jewkes, and ask her if she has any more beans for me to plant? He smiled, I suppose at my foolishness; and I popped the letter under the mould, and stepped back, as if waiting for his return; which, being near, was immediate80; and she followed him. What should I do with beans? said she,—and sadly scared me; for she whispered me, I am afraid of some fetch! You don't use to send on such simple errands.—What fetch? said I: It is hard I can neither stir, nor speak, but I must be suspected.—Why, said she, my master writes, that I must have all my eyes about me; for though you are as innocent as a dove, yet you are as cunning as a serpent. But I'll forgive you, if you cheat me.
Then I thought of my money, and could have called her names, had I dared: And I said, Pray Mrs. Jewkes, now you talk of forgiving me, if I cheat you, be so kind as to pay me my money; for though I have no occasion for it, yet I know you was but in jest, and intended to give it me again. You shall have it in a proper time, said she; but, indeed, I was in earnest to get it out of your hands, for fear you should make an ill use of it. And so we cavilled81 upon this subject as we walked in, and I went up to write my letter to my master; and, as I intended to shew it her, I resolved to write accordingly as to her part of it; for I made little account of his offer of Mrs. Jervis to me, instead of this wicked woman, (though the most agreeable thing that could have befallen me, except my escape from hence,) nor indeed any thing he said. For to be honourable, in the just sense of the word, he need not have caused me to be run away with, and confined as I am. I wrote as follows:
'HONOURED SIR,
'When I consider how easily you might make me happy, since all I desire is to be permitted to go to my poor father and mother; when I reflect upon your former proposal to me in relation to a certain person, not one word of which is now mentioned; and upon my being in that strange manner run away with, and still kept here a miserable prisoner; do you think, sir, (pardon your poor servant's freedom; my fears make me bold; do you think, I say,) that your general assurances of honour to me, can have the effect upon me, that, were it not for these things, all your words ought to have?—O, good sir! I too much apprehend82 that your notions of honour and mine are very different from one another: and I have no other hopes but in your continued absence. If you have any proposals to make me, that are consistent with your honourable professions, in my humble83 sense of the word, a few lines will communicate them to me, and I will return such an answer as befits me. But, oh! What proposals can one in your high station have to make to one in my low one! I know what belongs to your degree too well, to imagine, that any thing can be expected but sad temptations, and utter distress, if you come down; and you know not, sir, when I am made desperate, what the wretched Pamela dares to do!
'Whatever rashness you may impute50 to me, I cannot help it; but I wish I may not be forced upon any, that otherwise would never enter into my thoughts. Forgive me, sir, my plainness; I should be loath84 to behave to my master unbecomingly; but I must needs say, sir, my innocence is so dear to me, that all other considerations are, and, I hope, shall ever be, treated by me as niceties, that ought, for that, to be dispensed85 with. If you mean honourably, why, sir, should you not let me know it plainly? Why is it necessary to imprison86 me, to convince me of it? And why must I be close watched, and attended, hindered from stirring out, from speaking to any body, from going so much as to church to pray for you, who have been, till of late, so generous a benefactor87 to me? Why, sir, I humbly88 ask, why all this, if you mean honourably?—It is not for me to expostulate so freely, but in a case so near to me, with you, sir, so greatly my superior. Pardon me, I hope you will; but as to seeing you, I cannot bear the dreadful apprehension74. Whatever you have to propose, whatever you intend by me, let my assent89 be that of a free person, mean as I am, and not of a sordid90 slave, who is to be threatened and frightened into a compliance91 with measures, which your conduct to her seems to imply would be otherwise abhorred92 by her.—My restraint is indeed hard upon me: I am very uneasy under it. Shorten it, I beseech you, or—but I will not dare to say more, than that I am
'Your greatly oppressed unhappy servant.'
After I had taken a copy of this, I folded it up; and Mrs. Jewkes, coming just as I had done, sat down by me; and said, when she saw me direct it, I wish you would tell me if you have taken my advice, and consented to my master's coming down. If it will oblige you, said I, I will read it to you. That's good, said she; then I'll love you dearly.—Said I, Then you must not offer to alter one word. I won't, replied she. So I read it to her, and she praised me much for my wording it; but said she thought I pushed the matter very close; and it would better bear talking of, than writing about. She wanted an explanation or two, as about the proposal to a certain person; but I said, she must take it as she heard it. Well, well, said she, I make no doubt you understand one another, and will do so more and more. I sealed up the letter, and she undertook to convey it.
Sunday.
For my part, I knew it in vain to expect to have leave to go to church now, and so I did not ask; and I was the more indifferent, because, if I might have had permission, the sight of the neighbouring gentry, who had despised my sufferings, would have given me great regret and sorrow; and it was impossible I should have edified93 under any doctrine94 preached by Mr. Peters: So I applied myself to my private devotions.
Mr. Williams came yesterday, and this day, as usual, and took my letter; but, having no good opportunity, we avoided one another's conversation, and kept at a distance: But I was concerned I had not the key; for I would not have lost a moment in that case, had I been he, and he I. When I was at my devotion, Mrs. Jewkes came up, and wanted me sadly to sing her a psalm95, as she had often on common days importuned96 me for a song upon the spinnet: but I declined it, because my spirits were so low I could hardly speak, nor cared to be spoken to; but when she was gone, I remembering the cxxxviith psalm to be a little touching97, turned to it, and took the liberty to alter it, somewhat nearer to my case. I hope I did not sin in it; but thus I turned it:
I.
When sad I sat in B——n Hall,
All guarded round about,
And thought of ev'ry absent friend,
The tears for grief burst out.
II.
My joys and hopes all overthrown98,
My heart-strings almost broke,
Unfit my mind for melody,
Much more to bear a joke.
III.
Then she to whom I pris'ner was,
Said to me, tauntingly99,
Now cheer your heart, and sing a song
IV.
Alas! said I, how can I frame
My heavy heart to sing,
Or tune my mind, while thus enthrall'd
By such a wicked thing!
V.
But yet, if from my innocence
I, ev'n in thought, should slide,
Then let my fingers quite forget
The sweet spinnet to guide.
VI.
And let my tongue within my mouth
Be lock'd for ever fast,
If I rejoice, before I see
My full deliv'rance past.
VII.
The evils I endure,
From those who seek my sad disgrace,
So causeless, to procure.
VIII.
Remember, Lord, this Mrs. Jewkes,
She cries, Down with her chastity,
Down to the very ground!
IX.
Ev'n so shalt thou, O wicked one!
At length to shame be brought,
And happy shall all those be call'd
X.
Yea, blessed shall the man be called
That shames thee of thy evil,
And saves me from thy vile attempts,
And thee, too, from the D—-l.
Monday, Tuesday, Wednesday.
点击
收听单词发音
收听单词发音 |
1
coaxing
|
|
| v.哄，用好话劝说( coax的现在分词 )；巧言骗取；哄劝，劝诱；“锻炼”效应 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
2
pucker
|
|
| v.撅起，使起皱；n.（衣服上的）皱纹，褶子 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
3
reconciliation
|
|
| n.和解，和谐，一致 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
4
wretch
|
|
| n.可怜的人，不幸的人；卑鄙的人 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
5
whining
|
|
| n. 抱怨，牢骚 v. 哭诉，发牢骚 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
6
wilt
|
|
| v.(使)植物凋谢或枯萎；(指人)疲倦，衰弱 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
7
discourse
|
|
| n.论文，演说；谈话；话语；vi.讲述，著述 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
8
bosom
|
|
| n.胸，胸部；胸怀；内心；adj.亲密的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
9
alas
|
|
| int.唉(表示悲伤、忧愁、恐惧等) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
10
intriguer
|
|
| 密谋者 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
|
11
abide
|
|
| vi.遵守；坚持；vt.忍受 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
12
infinitely
|
|
| adv.无限地，无穷地 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
13
distress
|
|
| n.苦恼，痛苦，不舒适；不幸；vt.使悲痛 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
14
heartily
|
|
| adv.衷心地，诚恳地，十分，很 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
15
innocence
|
|
| n.无罪；天真；无害 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
16
forfeit
|
|
| vt.丧失；n.罚金，罚款，没收物 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
17
professed
|
|
| 公开声称的，伪称的，已立誓信教的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
18
entirely
|
|
| ad.全部地，完整地；完全地，彻底地 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
19
tune
|
|
| n.调子；和谐，协调；v.调音，调节，调整 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
20
virtue
|
|
| n.德行，美德；贞操；优点；功效，效力 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
21
virtuous
|
|
| adj.有品德的，善良的，贞洁的，有效力的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
22
concealed
|
|
| a.隐藏的，隐蔽的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
23
thereby
|
|
| adv.因此，从而 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
24
kindly
|
|
| adj.和蔼的，温和的，爽快的；adv.温和地，亲切地 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
25
pretence
|
|
| n.假装，作假；借口，口实；虚伪；虚饰 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
26
compassionate
|
|
| adj.有同情心的，表示同情的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
27
wring
|
|
| n.扭绞；v.拧，绞出，扭 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
28
atone
|
|
| v.赎罪，补偿 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
29
transcribe
|
|
| v.抄写，誉写；改编(乐曲)；复制，转录 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
30
propitious
|
|
| adj.吉利的；顺利的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
31
linen
|
|
| n.亚麻布，亚麻线，亚麻制品；adj.亚麻布制的，亚麻的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
32
brute
|
|
| n.野兽，兽性 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
33
wile
|
|
| v.诡计，引诱；n.欺骗，欺诈 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
34
procure
|
|
| vt.获得，取得，促成；vi.拉皮条 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
35
corrupt
|
|
| v.贿赂，收买；adj.腐败的，贪污的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
36
fretted
|
|
| 焦躁的，附有弦马的，腐蚀的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
37
dread
|
|
| vt.担忧，忧虑；惧怕，不敢；n.担忧，畏惧 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
38
contented
|
|
| adj.满意的，安心的，知足的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
39
truce
|
|
| n.休战，(争执，烦恼等的)缓和；v.以停战结束 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
40
repent
|
|
| v.悔悟，悔改，忏悔，后悔 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
41
generosity
|
|
| n.大度，慷慨，慷慨的行为 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
42
utterance
|
|
| n.用言语表达，话语，言语 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
43
descend
|
|
| vt./vi.传下来，下来，下降 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
44
favourably
|
|
| adv. 善意地，赞成地 =favorably | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
45
repulse
|
|
| n.击退，拒绝；vt.逐退，击退，拒绝 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
46
applied
|
|
| adj.应用的；v.应用，适用 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
47
spoke
|
|
| n.（车轮的）辐条；轮辐；破坏某人的计划；阻挠某人的行动 v.讲，谈（speak的过去式）；说；演说；从某种观点来说 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
48
determined
|
|
| adj.坚定的；有决心的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
49
imputed
|
|
| v.把（错误等）归咎于( impute的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
50
impute
|
|
| v.归咎于 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
51
zeal
|
|
| n.热心，热情，热忱 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
52
disinterestedness
|
|
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
53
lamented
|
|
| adj.被哀悼的，令人遗憾的v.（为…）哀悼，痛哭，悲伤( lament的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
54
lament
|
|
| n.悲叹，悔恨，恸哭；v.哀悼，悔恨，悲叹 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
55
justification
|
|
| n.正当的理由；辩解的理由 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
56
prettily
|
|
| adv.优美地；可爱地 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
57
spouse
|
|
| n.配偶(指夫或妻) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
58
embroil
|
|
| vt.拖累；牵连；使复杂 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
59
honourably
|
|
| adv.可尊敬地，光荣地，体面地 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
60
covetous
|
|
| adj.贪婪的，贪心的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
61
scruple
|
|
| n./v.顾忌，迟疑 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
62
acting
|
|
| n.演戏，行为，假装；adj.代理的，临时的，演出用的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
63
contrive
|
|
| vt.谋划，策划；设法做到；设计，想出 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
64
beseech
|
|
| v.祈求，恳求 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
65
gentry
|
|
| n.绅士阶级，上层阶级 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
66
iniquitous
|
|
| adj.不公正的；邪恶的；高得出奇的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
67
amend
|
|
| vt.修改，修订，改进；n.[pl.]赔罪，赔偿 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
68
distresses
|
|
| n.悲痛( distress的名词复数 )；痛苦；贫困；危险 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
69
apprise
|
|
| vt.通知，告知 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
70
vile
|
|
| adj.卑鄙的，可耻的，邪恶的；坏透的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
71
honourable
|
|
| adj.可敬的；荣誉的，光荣的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
72
nay
|
|
| adv.不；n.反对票，投反对票者 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
73
apprehensions
|
|
| 疑惧 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
74
apprehension
|
|
| n.理解，领悟；逮捕，拘捕；忧虑 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
75
guilt
|
|
| n.犯罪；内疚；过失，罪责 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
76
miserable
|
|
| adj.悲惨的，痛苦的；可怜的，糟糕的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
77
lengthen
|
|
| vt.使伸长，延长 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
78
providence
|
|
| n.深谋远虑，天道，天意；远见；节约；上帝 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
79
alley
|
|
| n.小巷，胡同；小径，小路 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
80
immediate
|
|
| adj.立即的；直接的，最接近的；紧靠的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
81
cavilled
|
|
| v.挑剔，吹毛求疵( cavil的过去式 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
82
apprehend
|
|
| vt.理解，领悟，逮捕，拘捕，忧虑 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
83
humble
|
|
| adj.谦卑的，恭顺的；地位低下的；v.降低，贬低 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
84
loath
|
|
| adj.不愿意的；勉强的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
85
dispensed
|
|
| v.分配( dispense的过去式和过去分词 )；施与；配（药） | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
86
imprison
|
|
| vt.监禁，关押，限制，束缚 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
87
benefactor
|
|
| n. 恩人，行善的人，捐助人 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
88
humbly
|
|
| adv. 恭顺地，谦卑地 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
89
assent
|
|
| v.批准，认可；n.批准，认可 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
90
sordid
|
|
| adj.肮脏的，不干净的，卑鄙的，暗淡的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
91
compliance
|
|
| n.顺从；服从；附和；屈从 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
92
abhorred
|
|
| v.憎恶( abhor的过去式和过去分词 )；（厌恶地）回避；拒绝；淘汰 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
93
edified
|
|
| v.开导，启发( edify的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
94
doctrine
|
|
| n.教义；主义；学说 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
95
psalm
|
|
| n.赞美诗，圣诗 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
96
importuned
|
|
| v.纠缠，向（某人）不断要求( importune的过去式和过去分词 )；（妓女）拉（客） | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
97
touching
|
|
| adj.动人的，使人感伤的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
98
overthrown
|
|
| adj. 打翻的，推倒的，倾覆的 动词overthrow的过去分词 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
99
tauntingly
|
|
| 嘲笑地，辱骂地； 嘲骂地 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
|
100
almighty
|
|
| adj.全能的，万能的；很大的，很强的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
101
mighty
|
|
| adj.强有力的；巨大的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
102
wrought
|
|
| v.引起；以…原料制作；运转；adj.制造的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
| 欢迎访问英文小说网 |