Pause here a little, Pamela, on what thou art about, before thou takest the dreadful leap; and consider whether there be no way yet left, no hope, if not to escape from this wicked house, yet from the mischiefs7 threatened thee in it.
I then considered; and, after I had cast about in my mind every thing that could make me hope, and saw no probability; a wicked woman, devoid8 of all compassion9! a horrid10 helper, just arrived, in this dreadful Colbrand! an angry and resenting master, who now hated me, and threatened the most afflicting11 evils! and that I should, in all probability, be deprived even of the opportunity, I now had before me, to free myself from all their persecutions!—What hast thou to do, distressed13 creature, said I to myself, but throw thyself upon a merciful God, (who knows how innocently I suffer,) to avoid the merciless wickedness of those who are determined14 on my ruin?
And then, thought I, (and oh! that thought was surely of the devil's instigation; for it was very soothing15, and powerful with me,) these wicked wretches16, who now have no remorse17, no pity on me, will then be moved to lament18 their misdoings; and when they see the dead corpse19 of the unhappy Pamela dragged out to these dewy banks, and lying breathless at their feet, they will find that remorse to soften21 their obdurate22 heart, which, now, has no place there!—And my master, my angry master, will then forget his resentments23, and say, O, this is the unhappy Pamela! that I have so causelessly persecuted25 and destroyed! Now do I see she preferred her honesty to her life, will he say, and is no hypocrite, nor deceiver; but really was the innocent creature she pretended to be! Then, thought I, will he, perhaps, shed a few tears over the poor corpse of his persecuted servant; and though he may give out, it was love and disappointment; and that, perhaps, (in order to hide his own guilt26,) for the unfortunate Mr. Williams, yet will he be inwardly grieved, and order me a decent funeral, and save me, or rather this part of me, from the dreadful stake, and the highway interment; and the young men and maidens29 all around my dear father's will pity poor Pamela! But, O! I hope I shall not be the subject of their ballads30 and elegies31; but that my memory, for the sake of my dear father and mother, may quickly slide into oblivion.
I was once rising, so indulgent was I to this sad way of thinking, to throw myself in: But, again, my bruises32 made me slow; and I thought, What art thou about to do, wretched Pamela? How knowest thou, though the prospect33 be all dark to thy short-sighted eye, what God may do for thee, even when all human means fail? God Almighty34 would not lay me under these sore afflictions, if he had not given me strength to grapple with them, if I will exert it as I ought: And who knows, but that the very presence I so much dread2 of my angry and designing master, (for he has had me in his power before, and yet I have escaped;) may be better for me, than these persecuting36 emissaries of his, who, for his money, are true to their wicked trust, and are hardened by that, and a long habit of wickedness, against compunction of heart? God can touch his heart in an instant; and if this should not be done, I can then but put an end to my life by some other means, if I am so resolved.
But how do I know, thought I, that even these bruises and maims that I have gotten, while I pursued only the laudable escape I had meditated37, may not kindly38 have furnished me with the opportunity I am now tempted40 with to precipitate41 myself, and of surrendering up my life, spotless and unguilty, to that merciful Being who gave it!
Then, thought I, who gave thee, presumptuous42 as thou art, a power over thy life? Who authorised thee to put an end to it, when the weakness of thy mind suggests not to thee a way to preserve it with honour? How knowest thou what purposes God may have to serve, by the trials with which thou art now exercised? Art thou to put a bound to the divine will, and to say, Thus much will I bear, and no more? And wilt43 thou dare to say, That if the trial be augmented45 and continued, thou wilt sooner die than bear it?
This act of despondency, thought I, is a sin, that, if I pursue it, admits of no repentance47, and can therefore hope no forgiveness.—And wilt thou, to shorten thy transitory griefs, heavy as they are, and weak as thou fanciest thyself, plunge48 both body and soul into everlasting49 misery50! Hitherto, Pamela, thought I, thou art the innocent, the suffering Pamela; and wilt thou, to avoid thy sufferings, be the guilty aggressor? And, because wicked men persecute24 thee, wilt thou fly in the face of the Almighty, and distrust his grace and goodness, who can still turn all these sufferings to benefits? And how do I know, but that God, who sees all the lurking51 vileness52 of my heart, may have permitted these sufferings on that very score, and to make me rely solely54 on his grace and assistance, who, perhaps, have too much prided myself in a vain dependence55 on my own foolish contrivances?
Then, again, thought I, wilt thou suffer in one moment all the good lessons of thy poor honest parents, and the benefit of their example, (who have persisted in doing their duty with resignation to the divine will, amidst the extreme degrees of disappointment, poverty, and distress12, and the persecutions of an ungrateful world, and merciless creditors,) to be thrown away upon thee: and bring down, as in all probability this thy rashness will, their grey hairs with sorrow to the grave, when they shall understand, that their beloved daughter, slighting the tenders of divine grace, despairing of the mercies of a protecting God, has blemished56, in this last act, a whole life, which they had hitherto approved and delighted in?
What then, presumptuous Pamela, dost thou here? thought I: Quit with speed these perilous58 banks, and fly from these curling waters, that seem, in their meaning murmurs59, this still night, to reproach thy rashness! Tempt39 not God's goodness on the mossy banks, that have been witnesses of thy guilty purpose: and while thou hast power left thee, avoid the tempting60 evil, lest thy grand enemy, now repulsed61 by divine grace, and due reflection, return to the assault with a force that thy weakness may not be able to resist! and let one rash moment destroy all the convictions, which now have awed62 thy rebellious63 mind into duty and resignation to the divine will!
And so saying, I arose; but was so stiff with my hurts, so cold with the moist dew of the night, and the wet grass on which I had sat, as also with the damps arising from so large a piece of water, that with great pain I got from this pond, which now I think of with terror; and bending my limping steps towards the house, took refuge in the corner of an outhouse, where wood and coals are laid up for family use, till I should be found by my cruel keepers, and consigned64 to a more wretched confinement65, and worse usage than I had hitherto experienced; and there behind a pile of firewood I crept, and lay down, as you may imagine, with a mind just broken, and a heart sensible to nothing but the extremest woe66 and dejection.
This, my dear father and mother, is the issue of your poor Pamela's fruitless enterprise; and who knows, if I had got out at the back-door, whether I had been at all in a better case, moneyless, friendless, as I am, and in a strange place!—But blame not your poor daughter too much: Nay67, if ever you see this miserable68 scribble69, all bathed and blotted70 with my tears, let your pity get the better of your reprehension71! But I know it will—And I must leave off for the present.—For, oh! my strength and my will are at this time very far unequal to one another.—But yet I will add, that though I should have praised God for my deliverance, had I been freed from my wicked keepers, and my designing master; yet I have more abundant reason to praise him, that I have been delivered from a worse enemy,—myself!
I will conclude my sad relation.
It seems Mrs. Jewkes awaked not till day-break; and not finding me in bed, she called me; and, no answer being returned, she relates, that she got out of bed, and ran to my closet; and, missing me, searched under the bed, and in another closet, finding the chamber72-door as she had left it, quite fast, and the key, as usual, about her wrist. For if I could have got out of the chamber-door, there were two or three passages, and doors to them all, double-locked and barred, to go through into the great garden; so that, to escape, there was no way, but out of the window; and of that window, because of the summer-parlour under it: for the other windows are a great way from the ground.
She says she was excessively frightened; and instantly raised the Swiss, and the two maids, who lay not far off; and finding every door fast, she said, I must be carried away, as St. Peter was out of prison, by some angel. It is a wonder she had not a worse thought!
She says, she wept, and wrung73 her hands, and took on sadly, running about like a mad woman, little thinking I could have got out of the closet window, between the iron bars; and, indeed, I don't know whether I could do so again. But at last finding that casement74 open, they concluded it must be so; and ran out into the garden, and found my footsteps in the mould of the bed which I dropt down upon from the leads: And so speeded away all of them; that is to say, Mrs. Jewkes, Colbrand, and Nan, towards the back-door, to see if that was fast; while the cook was sent to the out-offices to raise the men, and make them get horses ready, to take each a several way to pursue me.
But, it seems, finding that door double-locked and padlocked, and the heel of my shoe, and the broken bricks, they verily concluded I was got away by some means over the wall; and then, they say, Mrs. Jewkes seemed like a distracted woman: Till, at last, Nan had the thought to go towards the pond: and there seeing my coat, and cap, and handkerchief, in the water, cast almost to the banks by the agitation76 of the waves, she thought it was me; and, screaming out, ran to Mrs. Jewkes, and said, O, madam, madam! here's a piteous thing!—Mrs. Pamela lies drowned in the pond. Thither77 they all ran; and finding my clothes, doubted not I was at the bottom; and they all, Swiss among the rest, beat their breasts, and made most dismal78 lamentations; and Mrs. Jewkes sent Nan to the men, to bid them get the drag-net ready, and leave the horses, and come to try to find the poor innocent! as she, it seems, then called me, beating her breast, and lamenting79 my hard hap20; but most what would become of them, and what account they should give to my master.
While every one was thus differently employed, some weeping and wailing80, some running here and there, Nan came into the wood-house; and there lay poor I; so weak, so low, and dejected, and withal so stiff with my bruises, that I could not stir, nor help myself to get upon my feet. And I said, with a low voice, (for I could hardly speak,) Mrs. Ann! Mrs. Ann!—The creature was sadly frightened, but was taking up a billet to knock me on the head, believing I was some thief, as she said; but I cried out, O Mrs. Ann, Mrs. Ann, help me, for pity's sake, to Mrs. Jewkes! for I cannot get up!—Bless me, said she, what! you, madam!—Why, our hearts are almost broken, and we were going to drag the pond for you, believing you had drowned yourself. Now, said she, you'll make us all alive again!
And, without helping81 me, she ran away to the pond, and brought all the crew to the wood-house.—The wicked woman, as she entered, said, Where is she?—Plague of her spells, and her witchcrafts! She shall dearly repent46 of this trick, if my name be Jewkes; and, coming to me, took hold of my arm so roughly, and gave me such a pull, as made me squeal83 out, (my shoulder being bruised84 on that side,) and drew me on my face. O cruel creature! said I, if you knew what I have suffered, it would move you to pity me!
Even Colbrand seemed to be concerned, and said, Fie, madam, fie! you see she is almost dead! You must not be so rough with her. The coachman Robin85 seemed to be sorry for me too, and said, with sobs86, What a scene is here! Don't you see she is all bloody87 in her head, and cannot stir?—Curse of her contrivance! said the horrid creature; she has frightened me out of my wits, I'm sure. How the d—-l came you here?—Oh! said I, ask me now no questions, but let the maids carry me up to my prison; and there let me die decently, and in peace! For, indeed, I thought I could not live two hours.
The still more inhuman88 tigress said, I suppose you want Mr. Williams to pray by you, don't you? Well, I'll send for my master this minute: let him come and watch you himself, for me; for there's no such thing as holding you, I'm sure.
So the maids took me up between them, and carried me to my chamber; and when the wretch5 saw how bad I was, she began a little to relent—while every one wondered (at which I had neither strength nor inclination89 to tell them) how all this came to pass, which they imputed90 to sorcery and witchcraft82.
I was so weak, when I had got up stairs, that I fainted away, with dejection, pain, and fatigue91; and they undressed me, and got me to bed; and Mrs. Jewkes ordered Nan to bathe my shoulder, and arm, and ancle, with some old rum warmed; and they cut the hair a little from the back part of my head, and washed that; for it was clotted92 with blood, from a pretty long, but not a deep gash93; and put a family plaister upon it; for, if this woman has any good quality, it is, it seems, in a readiness and skill to manage in cases, where sudden misfortunes happen in a family.
After this, I fell into a pretty sound and refreshing94 sleep, and lay till twelve o'clock, tolerably easy, considering I was very feverish95, and aguishly inclined; and she took a deal of care to fit me to undergo more trials, which I had hoped would have been happily ended: but Providence96 did not see fit.
She would make me rise about twelve: but I was so weak, I could only sit up till the bed was made, and went into it again; and was, as they said, delirious97 some part of the afternoon. But having a tolerable night on Thursday, I was a good deal better on Friday, and on Saturday got up, and ate a little spoon-meat, and my feverishness98 seemed to be gone; and I was so mended by evening, that I begged her indulgence in my closet, to be left to myself; which she consented to, it being double-barred the day before, and I assuring her, that all my contrivances, as she called them, were at an end. But first she made me tell the whole story of my enterprise; which I did very faithfully, knowing now that nothing could stand me in any stead, or contribute to my safety and escape: And she seemed full of wonder at my resolution; but told me frankly99, that I should have found it a hard matter to get quite off; for that she was provided with a warrant from my master (who is a justice of peace in this county as well as in the other) to get me apprehended100, if I had got away, on suspicion of wronging him, let me have been where I would.
O how deep-laid are the mischiefs designed to fall on my devoted102 head!—Surely, surely, I cannot be worthy103 of all this contrivance! This too well shews me the truth of what was hinted to me formerly104 at the other house, that my master swore he would have me! O preserve me, Heaven! from being his, in his own wicked sense of the adjuration105!
I must add, that now the woman sees me pick up so fast, she uses me worse, and has abridged106 me of paper, all but one sheet, which I am to shew her, written or unwritten, on demand: and has reduced me to one pen: yet my hidden stores stand me in stead. But she is more and more snappish and cross; and tauntingly108 calls me Mrs. Williams, and any thing she thinks will vex109 me.
Sunday afternoon.
Mrs. Jewkes has thought fit to give me an airing, for three or four hours, this afternoon; and I am a good deal better and should be much more so, if I knew for what I am reserved. But health is a blessing110 hardly to be coveted111 in my circumstances, since that but exposes me to the calamity112 I am in continual apprehensions114 of; whereas a weak and sickly state might possibly move compassion for me. O how I dread the coming of this angry and incensed115 master; though I am sure I have done him no harm!
Just now we heard, that he had like to have been drowned in crossing the stream, a few days ago, in pursuing his game. What is the matter, that with all his ill usage of me, I cannot hate him? To be sure, I am not like other people! He has certainly done enough to make me hate him; but yet, when I heard his danger, which was very great, I could not in my heart forbear rejoicing for his safety; though his death would have ended my afflictions. Ungenerous master! if you knew this, you surely would not be so much my persecutor116! But, for my late good lady's sake, I must wish him well; and O what an angel would he be in my eyes yet, if he would cease his attempts, and reform!
Well, I hear by Mrs. Jewkes, that John Arnold is turned away, being detected in writing to Mr. Williams; and that Mr. Longman, and Mr. Jonathan the butler, have incurred117 his displeasure, for offering to speak in my behalf. Mrs. Jervis too is in danger; for all these three, probably, went together to beg in my favour; for now it is known where I am.
Mrs. Jewkes has, with the news about my master, received a letter: but she says the contents are too bad for me to know. They must be bad indeed, if they be worse than what I have already known.
Just now the horrid creature tells me, as a secret, that she has reason to think he has found out a way to satisfy my scruples118: It is, by marrying me to this dreadful Colbrand, and buying me of him on the wedding day, for a sum of money!—Was ever the like heard?—She says it will be my duty to obey my husband; and that Mr. Williams will be forced, as a punishment, to marry us; and that, when my master has paid for me, and I am surrendered up, the Swiss is to go home again, with the money, to his former wife and children; for, she says, it is the custom of those people to have a wife in every nation.
But this, to be sure, is horrid romancing! Yet, abominable119 as it is, it may possibly serve to introduce some plot now hatching!—With what strange perplexities is my poor mind agitated120! Perchance, some sham-marriage may be designed, on purpose to ruin me; But can a husband sell his wife against her own consent?—And will such a bargain stand good in law?
Monday, Tuesday, Wednesday, the 32d, 33d, and 34th days of my imprisonment121.
Nothing offers these days but squabblings between Mrs. Jewkes and me. She grows worse and worse to me. I vexed122 her yesterday, because she talked nastily; and told her she talked more like a vile53 London prostitute, than a gentleman's housekeeper123; and she thinks she cannot use me bad enough for it. Bless me! she curses and storms at me like a trooper, and can hardly keep her hands off me. You may believe she must talk sadly, to make me say such harsh words: indeed it cannot be repeated; as she is a disgrace to her sex. And then she ridicules125 me, and laughs at my notions of honesty; and tells me, impudent126 creature as she is! what a fine bed-fellow I shall make for my master (and such-like), with such whimsical notions about me!—Do you think this is to be borne? And yet she talks worse than this, if possible! quite filthily127! O what vile hands am I put into!
Thursday.
I have now all the reason that can be, to apprehend101 my master will be here soon; for the servants are busy in setting the house to rights; and a stable and coach-house are cleaning out, that have not been used some time. I asked Mrs. Jewkes; but she tells me nothing, nor will hardly answer me when I ask her a question. Sometimes I think she puts on these strange wicked airs to me, purposely to make me wish for, what I dread most of all things, my master's coming down. He talk of love!—If he had any the least notion of regard for me, to be sure he would not give this naughty body such power over me:—And if he does come, where is his promise of not seeing me without I consent to it? But, it seems, his honour owes me nothing! So he tells me in his letter. And why? Because I am willing to keep mine. But, indeed, he says, he hates me perfectly128: But it is plain he does, or I should not be left to the mercy of this woman: and, what is worse, to my woful apprehensions.
Friday, the 36th day of my imprisonment.
I took the liberty yesterday afternoon, finding the gates open, to walk out before the house; and, ere I was aware, had got to the bottom of the long row of elms; and there I sat myself down upon the steps of a sort of broad stile, which leads into the road, and goes towards the town. And as I sat musing129 upon what always busies my mind, I saw a whole body of folks running towards me from the house, men and women, as in a fright. At first I wondered what was the matter, till they came nearer; and I found they were all alarmed, thinking I had attempted to get off. There was first the horrible Colbrand, running with his long legs, well nigh two yards at a stride; then there was one of the grooms130, poor Mr. Williams's robber; then I spied Nan, half out of breath, and the cook-maid after her! and lastly, came waddling131, as fast as she could, Mrs. Jewkes, exclaiming most bitterly, as I found, against me. Colbrand said, O how have you frighted us all!—And went behind me, lest I should run away, as I suppose.
I sat still, to let them see I had no view to get away; for, besides the improbability of succeeding, my last sad attempt has cured me of enterprising again. And when Mrs. Jewkes came within hearing, I found her terribly incensed, and raving132 about my contrivances. Why, said I, should you be so concerned? Here I have sat a few minutes, and had not the least thought of getting away, or going farther; but to return as soon as it was duskish. She would not believe me; and the barbarous creature struck at me with her horrid fist, and, I believe, would have felled me, had not Colbrand interposed, and said, He saw me sitting still, looking about me, and not seeming to have the least inclination to stir. But this would not serve: She ordered the two maids to take me each by an arm, and lead me back into the house, and up stairs; and there have I been locked up ever since, without shoes. In vain have I pleaded, that I had no design, as indeed I had not the least; and last night I was forced to be between her and Nan; and I find she is resolved to make a handle of this against me, and in her own behalf.—Indeed, what with her usage, and my own apprehensions of still worse, I am quite weary of my life.
Just now she has been with me, and given me my shoes, and has laid her imperious commands upon me, to dress myself in a suit of clothes out of the portmanteau, which I have not seen lately, against three or four o'clock; for she says, she is to have a visit from Lady Darnford's two daughters, who come purposely to see me; and so she gave me the key of the portmanteau. But I will not obey her; and I told her, I would not be made a show of, nor see the ladies. She left me, saying, it would be worse for me, if I did not. But how can that be?
Five o'clock is come,
And no young ladies!—So that I fancy—But hold! I hear their coach, I believe. I'll step to the window.—I won't go down to them, I am resolved—
Good sirs! good sirs! What will become of me! Here is my master come in his fine chariot!—Indeed he is! What shall I do? Where shall I hide myself?—O! What shall I do? Pray for me! But oh! you'll not see this!—Now, good God of heaven, preserve me; if it be thy blessed will!
Seven o'clock.
Though I dread to see him, yet do I wonder I have not. To be sure something is resolved against me, and he stays to hear all her stories. I can hardly write; yet, as I can do nothing else, I know not how to forbear!—Yet I cannot hold my pen—How crooked133 and trembling the lines!—I must leave off, till I can get quieter fingers!—Why should the guiltless tremble so, when the guilty can possess their minds in peace?
Saturday morning.
Now let me give you an account of what passed last night: for I had no power to write, nor yet opportunity till now.
This vile woman held my master till half an hour after seven; and he came hither about five in the afternoon. And then I heard his voice on the stairs, as he was coming up to me. It was about his supper; for he said, I shall choose a boiled chicken with butter and parsley.—And up he came!
He put on a stern and majestic134 air; and he can look very majestic when he pleases. Well, perverse135 Pamela, ungrateful runaway136, said he, for my first salutation!—You do well, don't you, to give me all this trouble and vexation! I could not speak; but throwing myself on the floor, hid my face, and was ready to die with grief and apprehension113.—He said, Well may you hide your face! well may you be ashamed to see me, vile forward one, as you are!—I sobbed137 and wept, but could not speak. And he let me lie, and went to the door, and called Mrs. Jewkes.—There, said he, take up that fallen angel!—Once I thought her as innocent as an angel of light but I have now no patience with her. The little hypocrite prostrates138 herself thus, in hopes to move my weakness in her favour, and that I'll raise her from the floor myself. But I shall not touch her: No, said he, cruel gentleman as he was! let such fellows as Williams be taken in by her artful wiles139! I know her now, and see she is for any fool's turn, that will be caught by her.
I sighed, as if my heart would break!—And Mrs. Jewkes lifted me up upon my knees; for I trembled so, I could not stand. Come, said she, Mrs. Pamela, learn to know your best friend; confess your unworthy behaviour, and beg his honour's forgiveness of all your faults. I was ready to faint: And he said, She is mistress of arts, I'll assure you; and will mimic140 a fit, ten to one, in a minute.
I was struck to the heart at this; but could not speak presently; only lifted up my eyes to heaven!—And at last made shift to say—God forgive you, sir!—He seemed in a great passion, and walked up and down the room, casting sometimes an eye upon me, and seeming as if he would have spoken, but checked himself—And at last he said, When she has acted this her first part over, perhaps I will see her again, and she shall soon know what she has to trust to.
And so he went out of the room: And I was quite sick at heart!—Surely, said I, I am the wickedest creature that ever breathed! Well, said the impertinent, not so wicked as that neither; but I am glad you begin to see your faults. Nothing like being humble141!—Come, I'll stand your friend, and plead for you, if you'll promise to be more dutiful for the future: Come, come, added the wretch, this may be all made up by to-morrow morning, if you are not a fool.—Begone, hideous142 woman! said I, and let not my affliction be added to by thy inexorable cruelty, and unwomanly wickedness.
She gave me a push, and went away in a violent passion: And it seems, she made a story of this; and said, I had such a spirit, there was no bearing it.
I laid me down on the floor, and had no power to stir, till the clock struck nine: and then the wicked woman came up again. You must come down stairs, said she, to my master; that is, if you please, spirit!—Said I, I believe I cannot stand. Then, said she, I'll send Mons. Colbrand to carry you down.
I got up as well as I could, and trembled all the way down stairs: And she went before me into the parlour; and a new servant that he had waiting on him, instead of John, withdrew as soon as I came in: And, by the way, he had a new coachman too, which looked as if Bedfordshire Robin was turned away.
I thought, said he, when I came down, you should have sat at table with me, when I had not company; but when I find you cannot forget your original, but must prefer my menials to me, I call you down to wait on me while I sup, that I may have some talk with you, and throw away as little time as possible upon you.
Sir, said I, you do me honour to wait upon you:—And I never shall, I hope, forget my original. But I was forced to stand behind his chair, that I might hold by it. Fill me, said he, a glass of that Burgundy. I went to do it, but my hand shook so, that I could not hold the plate with the glass in it, and spilt some of the wine. So Mrs. Jewkes poured it for me, and I carried it as well as I could; and made a low courtesy. He took it, and said, Stand behind me, out of my sight!
Why, Mrs. Jewkes, said he, you tell me she remains143 very sullen144 still, and eats nothing. No, said she, not so much as will keep life and soul together.—And is always crying, you say, too? Yes, sir, answered she, I think she is, for one thing or another. Ay, said he, your young wenches will feed upon their tears; and their obstinacy145 will serve them for meat and drink. I think I never saw her look better though, in my life!—But, I suppose, she lives upon love. This sweet Mr. Williams, and her little villanous plots together, have kept her alive and well, to be sure: For mischief6, love, and contradiction, are the natural aliments of a woman.
Poor I was forced to hear all this, and be silent; and indeed my heart was too full to speak.
And so you say, said he, that she had another project, but yesterday, to get away? She denies it herself, said she; but it had all the appearance of one. I'm sure she made me in a fearful pucker146 about it: And I am glad your honour is come, with all my heart; and I hope, whatever be your honour's intention concerning her, you will not be long about it; for you'll find her as slippery as an eel75, I'll assure you.
Sir, said I, and clasped his knees with my arms, not knowing what I did, and falling on my knees, Have mercy on me, and hear me, concerning that wicked woman's usage of me—
He cruelly interrupted me, and said, I am satisfied she has done her duty: it signifies nothing what you say against Mrs. Jewkes. That you are here, little hypocrite as you are, pleading your cause before me, is owing to her care of you; else you had been with the parson.—Wicked girl! said he, to tempt a man to undo147 himself, as you have done him, at a time I was on the point of making him happy for his life!
I arose; but said with a deep sigh, I have done, sir!—I have done!—I have a strange tribunal to plead before. The poor sheep in the fable148 had such an one; when it was tried before the vulture, on the accusation149 of the wolf!
So, Mrs. Jewkes, said he, you are the wolf, I the vulture, and this the poor innocent lamb on her trial before us.—Oh! you don't know how well this innocent is read in reflection. She has wit at will, when she has a mind to display her own romantic innocence150, at the price of other people's characters.
Well, said the aggravated151 creature, this is nothing to what she has called me: I have been a Jezebel, a London prostitute, and what not?—But I am contented152 with her ill names, now I see it is her fashion, and she can call your honour a vulture.
Said I, I had no thought of comparing my master—and was going to say on: but he said, Don't prate153, girl!—No, said she, it don't become you, I am sure.
Well, said I, since I must not speak, I will hold my peace; but there is a righteous Judge, who knows the secrets of all hearts; and to him I appeal.
See there! said he: now this meek154, good creature is praying for fire from heaven upon us! O she can curse most heartily155, in the spirit of Christian156 meekness157, I'll assure you!—Come, saucy-face, give me another glass of wine.
So I did, as well as I could; but wept so, that he said, I suppose I shall have some of your tears in my wine!
When he had supped, he stood up, and said, O how happy for you it is, that you can, at will, thus make your speaking eyes overflow158 in this manner, without losing any of their brilliancy! You have been told, I suppose, that you are most beautiful in your tears!—Did you ever, said he to her, (who all this while was standing159 in one corner of the parlour,) see a more charming creature than this? Is it to be wondered at, that I demean myself thus to take notice of her?—See, said he, and took the glass with one hand, and turned me round with the other, what a shape! what a neck! what a hand! and what a bloom on that lovely face!—But who can describe the tricks and artifices161, that lie lurking in her little, plotting, guileful162 heart! 'Tis no wonder the poor parson was infatuated with her.—I blame him less than I do her; for who could expect such artifice160 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 corrupt163 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 intriguing164 little slut, and take her to my bosom165.
O, said the sycophant166, you are very good, sir, very forgiving, indeed!—But come, added the profligate167 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 stammer168 out a passionate169 exclamation170 to Heaven, to protect my innocence. But the word was the subject of their ridicule124. Was ever poor creature worse beset171!
He said, as if he had been considering whether he could forgive me or not, No, I cannot yet forgive her neither.—She has given me great disturbance172, has brought great discredit173 upon me, both abroad and at home: has corrupted174 all my servants at the other house; has despised my honourable175 views and intentions to her, and sought to run away with this ungrateful parson.—And surely I ought not to forgive all this!—Yet, with all this wretched grimace176, he kissed me again, and would have put his hand into my bosom; but I struggled, and said, I would die before I would be used thus.—Consider, Pamela, said he, in a threatening tone, consider where you are! and don't play the fool: If you do, a more dreadful fate awaits you than you expect. But take her up stairs, Mrs. Jewkes, and I'll send a few lines to her to consider of; and let me have your answer, Pamela, in the morning. 'Till then you have to resolve: and after that your doom177 is fixed178.—So I went up stairs, and gave myself up to grief, and expectation of what he would send: but yet I was glad of this night's reprieve179!
He sent me, however, nothing at all. And about twelve o'clock, Mrs. Jewkes and Nan came up, as the night before, to be my bed-fellows: and I would go to bed with some of my clothes on: which they muttered at sadly; and Mrs. Jewkes railed at me particularly. Indeed I would have sat up all night, for fear, if she would have let me. For I had but very little rest that night, apprehending180 this woman would let my master in. She did nothing but praise him, and blame me: but I answered her as little as I could.
He has Sir Simon Tell-tale, alias181 Darnford, to dine with him to-day, whose family sent to welcome him into the country; and it seems the old knight182 wants to see me; so I suppose I shall be sent for, as Samson was, to make sport for him.—Here I am, and must bear it all!
Twelve o'clock, Saturday noon.
Just now he has sent me up, by Mrs. Jewkes, the following proposals. So here are the honourable intentions all at once laid open. They are, my dear parents, to make me a vile kept mistress: which, I hope, I shall always detest183 the thoughts of. But you'll see how they are accommodated to what I should have most desired, could I have honestly promoted it, your welfare and happiness. I have answered them, as I am sure you'll approve; and I am prepared for the worst: For though I fear there will be nothing omitted to ruin me, and though my poor strength will not be able to defend me, yet I will be innocent of crime in my intention, and in the sight of God; and to him leave the avenging184 of all my wrongs, time and manner. I shall write to you my answer against his articles; and hope the best, though I fear the worst. But if I should come home to you ruined and undone185, and may not be able to look you in the face; yet pity and inspirit the poor Pamela, to make her little remnant of life easy; for long I shall not survive my disgrace: and you may be assured it shall not be my fault, if it be my misfortune.
'To MRS. PAMELA ANDREWS.
'The following ARTICLES are proposed to your serious consideration; and let me have an answer, in writing, to them, that I may take my resolutions accordingly. Only remember, that I will not be trifled with; and what you give for answer will absolutely decide your fate, without expostulation, or farther trouble.
This is my ANSWER.
Forgive, sir, the spirit your poor servant is about to show in
her answer to your ARTICLES. Not to be warm, and in earnest,
on such an occasion as the present, would shew a degree of guilt,
act like a person doubtful of her own mind; for it wants not one
moment's consideration with me; and I therefore return the ANSWER
following, let what will be the consequence.
'I. If you can convince me that the hated parson has had no encouragement from you in his addresses; and that you have no inclination for him in preference to me; then I will offer the following proposals to you, which I will punctually make good.
I. As to the first article, sir, it may behove me (that I may
not deserve, in your opinion, the opprobrious187 terms of forward
and artful, and such like) to declare solemnly, that Mr. Williams
never had the least encouragement from me, as to what you hint;
function, quite contrary to his apparent interest, to assist a
person he thought in distress. You may, sir, the rather believe
me, when I declare, that I know not the man breathing I would wish
to marry; and that the only one I could honour more than another,
'II. I will directly make you a present of 500 guineas, for your own use, which you may dispose of to any purpose you please: and will give it absolutely into the hands of any person you shall appoint to receive it; and expect no favour in return, till you are satisfied in the possession of it.
II. As to your second proposal, let the consequence be what it
will, I reject it with all my soul. Money, sir, is not my chief
good: May God Almighty desert me, whenever it is! and whenever,
for the sake of that, I can give up my title to that blessed hope
which will stand me in stead, at a time when millions of gold will
not purchase one happy moment of reflection on a past misspent life!
'III. I will likewise directly make over to you a purchase I lately made in Kent, which brings in 250l. per annum, clear of all deductions190. This shall be made over to you in full property for your life, and for the lives of any children to perpetuity, that you may happen to have: And your father shall be immediately put into possession of it in trust for these purposes: and the management of it will yield a comfortable subsistence to him, and your mother, for life; and I will make up any deficiencies, if such should happen, to that clear sum, and allow him 50l. per annum, besides, for his life, and that of your mother, for his care and management of this your estate.
III. Your third proposal, sir, I reject for the same reason;
and am sorry you could think my poor honest parents would enter
into their part of it, and be concerned for the management of
an estate, which would be owing to the prostitution of their
poor daughter. Forgive, sir, my warmth on this occasion; but
you know not the poor man, and the poor woman, my ever-dear
father and mother, if you think, that they would not much rather
I dare not say all that my full mind suggests to me on this
grievous occasion—But, indeed, sir, you know them not; nor
through God's assisting grace, ever make me act unworthy of
such poor honest parents!
'IV. I will, moreover, extend my favour to any other of your relations, that you may think worthy of it, or that are valued by you.
IV. Your fourth proposal, I take upon me, sir, to answer as the
third. If I have any friends that want the favour of the great,
may they ever want it, if they are capable of desiring it on
unworthy terms!
'V. I will, besides, order patterns to be sent you for choosing four complete suits of rich clothes, that you may appear with reputation, as if you were my wife. And will give you the two diamond rings, and two pair of ear-rings, and diamond necklace, that were bought by my mother, to present to Miss Tomlins, if the match that was proposed between her and me had been brought to effect: and I will confer upon you still other gratuities195, as I shall find myself obliged, by your good behaviour and affection.
V. Fine clothes, sir, become not me; nor have I any ambition
to wear them. I have greater pride in my poverty and meanness,
than I should have in dress and finery. Believe me, sir, I think
such things less become the humble-born Pamela, than the rags
your good mother raised me from. Your rings, sir, your necklace,
and your ear-rings, will better befit ladies of degree, than me:
by those you propose to give me. What should I think, when I
looked upon my finger, or saw in the glass those diamonds on my
neck, and in my ears, but that they were the price of my honesty;
and that I wore those jewels outwardly, because I had none inwardly.
'VI. Now, Pamela, will you see by this, what a value I set upon the free-will of a person already in my power; and who, if these proposals are not accepted, shall find, that I have not taken all these pains, and risked my reputation, as I have done, without resolving to gratify my passion for you, at all adventures; and if you refuse, without making any terms at all.
VI. I know, sir, by woful experience, that I am in your power:
I know all the resistance I can make will be poor and weak, and,
perhaps, stand me in little stead: I dread your will to ruin me
is as great as your power: yet, sir, will I dare to tell you,
that I will make no free-will offering of my virtue. All that
I can do, poor as it is, I will do, to convince you, that your
offers shall have no part in my choice; and if I cannot escape
the violence of man, I hope, by God's grace, I shall have nothing
to reproach myself, for not doing all in my power to avoid my
disgrace; and then I can safely appeal to the great God, my only
refuge and protector, with this consolation197, That my will bore no
'VII. You shall be mistress of my person and fortune, as much as if the foolish ceremony had passed. All my servants shall be yours; and you shall choose any two persons to attend yourself, either male or female, without any control of mine: and if your conduct be such, that I have reason to be satisfied with it, I know not (but will not engage for this) that I may, after a twelvemonth's cohabitation, marry you; for, if my love increases for you, as it has done for many months past, it will be impossible for me to deny you any thing.
'And now, Pamela, consider well, it is in your power to oblige me on such terms, as will make yourself, and all your friends, happy: but this will be over this very day, irrevocably over; and you shall find all you would be thought to fear, without the least benefit arising from it to yourself.
'And I beg you'll well weigh the matter, and comply with my proposals; and I will instantly set about securing to you the full effect of them: And let me, if you value yourself, experience a grateful return on this occasion, and I'll forgive all that's past.'
VII. I have not once dared to look so high, as to such a
proposal as your seventh article contains. Hence have proceeded
you have put me in; although you promised to be honourable to me.
Your honour, well I know, would not let you stoop to so mean and
so unworthy a slave, as the poor Pamela: All I desire is, to be
permitted to return to my native meanness unviolated. What have
I done, sir, to deserve it should be otherwise? For the obtaining
of this, though I would not have married your chaplain, yet would
I have run away with your meanest servant, if I had thought I could
have got safe to my beloved poverty. I heard you once say, sir,
That a certain great commander, who could live upon lentils, might
can contentedly201 live at the meanest rate, and think not myself
above the lowest condition, that I am also above making an exchange
of my honesty for all the riches of the Indies. When I come to be
hope will never be) may I rest my principal good in such vain
Give me leave to say, sir, in answer to what you hint, That you may in a twelvemonth's time marry me, on the continuance of my good behaviour; that this weighs less with me, if possible, than any thing else you have said: for, in the first place, there is an end of all merit, and all good behaviour, on my side, if I have now any, the moment I consent to your proposals: And I should be so far from expecting such an honour, that I will pronounce, that I should be most unworthy of it. What, sir, would the world say, were you to marry your harlot? That a gentleman of your rank in life should stoop, not only to the base-born Pamela, but to a base-born prostitute?—Little, sir, as I know of the world, I am not to be caught by a bait so poorly covered as this!
Yet, after all, dreadful is the thought, that I, a poor, weak, friendless, unhappy creature, am too full in your power! But permit me, sir, to pray, as I now write on my bended knees, That before you resolve upon my ruin, you will weigh well the matter. Hitherto, sir, though you have taken large strides to this crying sin, yet are you on this side the commission of it.—When once it is done, nothing can recall it! And where will be your triumph?—What glory will the spoils of such a weak enemy yield you? Let me but enjoy my poverty with honesty, is all my prayer, and I will bless you, and pray for you, every moment of my life! Think, O think! before it is yet too late! what stings, what remorse will attend your dying hour, when you come to reflect, that you have ruined, perhaps soul and body, a wretched creature, whose only pride was her virtue! And how pleased you will be, on the contrary, if in that tremendous moment you shall be able to acquit205 yourself of this foul206 crime, and to plead in your own behalf, that you suffered the earnest supplications of an unhappy wretch to prevail with you to be innocent yourself, and let her remain so!—May God Almighty, whose mercy so lately saved you from the peril57 of perishing in deep waters, (on which, I hope, you will give me cause to congratulate you!) touch your heart in my favour, and save you from this sin, and me from this ruin!—And to him do I commit my cause; and to him will I give the glory, and night and day pray for you, if I may be permitted to escape this great evil!——
Your poor oppressed, broken spirited servant.
I took a copy of this for your perusal207, my dear parents, if I shall ever be so happy to see you again; (for I hope my conduct will be approved of by you;) and at night, when Sir Simon was gone, he sent for me down. Well, said he, have you considered my proposals? Yes, sir, said I, I have: and there is my answer: But pray let me not see you read it. Is it your bashfulness, said he, or your obstinacy, that makes you not choose I should read it before you?
I offered to go away; and he said, Don't run from me; I won't read it till you are gone. But, said he, tell me, Pamela, whether you comply with my proposals, or not? Sir, said I, you will see presently; pray don't hold me; for he took my hand. Said he, Did you well consider before you answered?—I did, sir, said I. If it be not what you think will please me, said he, dear girl, take it back again, and reconsider it; for if I have this as your absolute answer, and I don't like it, you are undone; for I will not sue meanly, where I can command. I fear, said he, it is not what I like, by your manner: and let me tell you, that I cannot bear denial. If the terms I have offered are not sufficient, I will augment44 them to two-thirds of my estate; for, said he, and swore a dreadful oath, I cannot live without you: and, since the thing is gone so far, I will not! And so he clasped me in his arms in such a manner as quite frightened me; and kissed me two or three times.
I got from him, and run up stairs, and went to the closet, and was quite uneasy and fearful.
In an hour's time he called Mrs. Jewkes down to him! And I heard him very high in passion: and all about me! And I heard her say, It was his own fault; there would be an end of all my complaining and perverseness208, if he was once resolved; and other most impudent aggravations. I am resolved not to go to bed this night, if I can help it!—Lie still, lie still, my poor fluttering heart!—What will become of me!
Almost twelve o'clock, Saturday night.
He sent Mrs. Jewkes, about ten o'clock, to tell me to come to him. Where? said I. I'll shew you, said she. I went down three or four steps, and saw her making to his chamber, the door of which was open: So I said, I cannot go there!—Don't be foolish, said she; but come; no harm will be done to you!—Well, said I, if I die, I cannot go there. I heard him say, Let her come, or it shall be worse for her. I can't bear, said he, to speak to her myself!—Well, said I, I cannot come, indeed I cannot; and so I went up again into my closet, expecting to be fetched by force.
But she came up soon after, and bid me make haste to bed: Said I, I will not go to bed this night, that's certain!—Then, said she, you shall be made to come to bed; and Nan and I will undress you. I knew neither prayers nor tears would move this wicked woman: So I said, I am sure you will let master in, and I shall be undone! Mighty35 piece of undone! she said: but he was too much exasperated209 against me, to be so familiar with me, she would assure me!—Ay, said she, you'll be disposed of another way soon, I can tell you for your comfort: and I hope your husband will have your obedience210, though nobody else can have it. No husband in the world, said I, shall make me do an unjust or base thing.—She said, That would be soon tried; and Nan coming in, What! said I, am I to have two bed-fellows again, these warm nights? Yes, said she, slippery-one, you are, till you can have one good one instead of us. Said I, Mrs. Jewkes, don't talk nastily to me: I see you are beginning again; and I shall affront211 you, may be; for next to bad actions, are bad words; for they could not be spoken, if they were not in the heart.—Come to bed, purity! said she. You are a nonsuch, I suppose. Indeed, said I, I can't come to bed; and it will do you no harm to let me stay all night in the great chair. Nan, said she, undress my young lady. If she won't let you, I'll help you; and, if neither of us can do it quietly, we'll call my master to do it for us; though, said she, I think it an office worthier212 of Monsieur Colbrand!—You are very wicked, said I. I know it, said she; I am a Jezebel, and a London prostitute, you know. You did great feats213, said I, to tell my master all this poor stuff; but you did not tell him how you beat me. No, lambkin, said she, (a word I had not heard a good while,) that I left for you to tell and you was going to do it if the vulture had not taken the wolf's part, and bid the poor innocent lamb be silent!—Ay, said I, no matter for your fleers, Mrs. Jewkes; though I can have neither justice nor mercy here, and cannot be heard in my defence, yet a time will come, may be, when I shall be heard, and when your own guilt will strike you dumb.—Ay! spirit, said she; and the vulture too! Must we both be dumb? Why that, lambkin, will be pretty!—Then, said the wicked one, you'll have all the talk to yourself!—Then how will the tongue of the pretty lambkin bleat214 out innocence, and virtue, and honesty, till the whole trial be at an end!—You're a wicked woman, that's certain, said I; and if you thought any thing of another world, could not talk thus. But no wonder!—It shews what hands I'm got into!—Ay, so it does, said she; but I beg you'll undress, and come to bed, or I believe your innocence won't keep you from still worse hands. I will come to bed, said I, if you will let me have the keys in my own hand; not else, if I can help it. Yes, said she, and then, hey for another contrivance, another escape!—No, no, said I, all my contrivances are over, I'll assure you! Pray let me have the keys, and I will come to bed. She came to me, and took me in her huge arms, as if I was a feather: Said she, I do this to shew you what a poor resistance you can make against me, if I please to exert myself; and so, lambkin, don't say to your wolf, I won't come to bed!—And set me down, and tapped me on the neck: Ah! said she, thou art a pretty creature, 'tis true; but so obstinate215! so full of spirit! if thy strength was but answerable to that, thou would'st run away with us all, and this great house too on thy back!—But, undress, undress, I tell you.
Well, said I, I see my misfortunes make you very merry, and very witty216 too: but I will love you, if you will humour me with the keys of the chamber-doors.—Are you sure you will love me? said she: Now speak your conscience!—Why, said I, you must not put it so close; neither would you, if you thought you had not given reason to doubt it!—But I will love you as well as I can!—I would not tell a wilful217 lie: and if I did, you would not believe me, after your hard usage of me. Well, said she, that's all fair, I own!—But Nan, pray pull off my young lady's shoes and stockings.—No, pray don't, said I; I will come to bed presently, since I must.
And so I went to the closet, and scribbled218 a little about this idle chit-chat. And she being importunate219, I was forced to go to bed; but with some of my clothes on, as the former night; and she let me hold the two keys; for there are two locks, there being a double door; and so I got a little sleep that night, having had none for two or three nights before.
I can't imagine what she means; but Nan offered to talk a little once or twice; and she snubbed her, and said, I charge you, wench, don't open your lips before me; and if you are asked any questions by Mrs. Pamela, don't answer her one word, while I am here!—But she is a lordly woman to the maid-servants; and that has always been her character: O how unlike good Mrs. Jervis in every thing.
Sunday morning.
A thought came into my head; I meant no harm; but it was a little bold. For, seeing my master dressing220 to go to church; and his chariot getting ready, I went to my closet, and I writ107,
The prayers of this congregation are earnestly desired for a
gentleman of great worth and honour, who labours under a temptation
to exert his great power to ruin a poor, distressed, worthless
And also,
The prayers of this congregation are earnestly desired by a poor
distressed creature, for the preservation221 of her virtue and
innocence.
Mrs. Jewkes came up: Always writing! said she; and would see it: And strait, all that ever I could say, carried it down to my master.—He looked upon it, and said, Tell her, she shall soon see how her prayers are answered; she is very bold: but as she has rejected all my favours, her reckoning for all is not far off. I looked after him out of the window; and he was charmingly dressed: To be sure he is a handsome fine gentleman!—What pity his heart is not as good as his appearance! Why can't I hate him?—But don't be uneasy, if you should see this; for it is impossible I should love him; for his vices222 all ugly him over, as I may say.
My master sends word, that he shall not come home to dinner: I suppose he dines with this Sir Simon Darnford. I am much concerned for poor Mr. Williams. Mrs. Jewkes says, he is confined still, and takes on much. All his trouble is brought upon him for my sake: This grieves me much. My master, it seems, will have his money from him. This is very hard; for it is three fifty pounds, he gave him, as he thought, as a salary for three years that he has been with him: but there was no agreement between them; and he absolutely depended on my master's favour. To be sure, it was the more generous of him to run these risks for the sake of oppressed innocence: and I hope he will meet with his reward in due time. Alas223 for me! I dare not plead for him; that would raise my oppressor's jealousy224 more. And I have not interest to save myself!
Sunday evening.
Mrs. Jewkes has received a line from my master: I wonder what it is, for his chariot is come home without him. But she will tell me nothing; so it is in vain to ask her. I am so fearful of plots and tricks, I know not what to do!—Every thing I suspect; for, now my disgrace is avowed225, what can I think!—To be sure, the worst will be attempted! I can only pour out my soul in prayer to God, for his blessed protection. But, if I must suffer, let me not be long a mournful survivor226!—Only let me not shorten my own time sinfully!——
This woman left upon the table, in the chamber, this letter of my master's to her; and I bolted myself in, till I had transcribed227 it. You'll see how tremblingly, by the lines. I wish poor Mr. Williams's release at any rate; but this letter makes my heart ache. Yet I have another day's reprieve, thank God!
'MRS. JEWKES,
'I have been so pressed on Williams's affair, that I shall set out this afternoon, in Sir Simon's chariot, and with Parson Peters, who is his intercessor, for Stamford; and shall not be back till to-morrow evening, if then. As to your ward27, I am thoroughly228 incensed against her: She has withstood her time; and now, would she sign and seal to my articles, it is too late. I shall discover something, perhaps, by him; and will, on my return, let her know, that all her ensnaring loveliness shall not save her from the fate that awaits her. But let her know nothing of this, lest it put her fruitful mind upon plots and artifices. Be sure trust her not without another with you at night, lest she venture the window in her foolish rashness: for I shall require her at your hands.
'Yours, etc.'
I had but just finished taking a copy of this, and laid the letter where I had it, and unbolted the door, when she came up in a great fright, for fear I should have seen it; but I being in my closet, and that lying as she left it, she did not mistrust. O, said she, I was afraid you had seen my master's letter here, which I carelessly left on the table. I wish, said I, I had known that. Why sure, said she, if you had, you would not have offered to read my letters! Indeed, said I, I should, at this time, if it had been in my way:—Do let me see it.—Well, said she, I wish poor Mr. Williams well off: I understand my master is gone to make up matters with him; which is very good. To be sure, added she, he is a very good gentleman, and very forgiving!—Why, said I, as if I had known nothing of the matter, how can he make up matters with him? Is not Mr. Williams at Stamford? Yes, said she, I believe so; but Parson Peters pleads for him, and he is gone with him to Stamford, and will not be back to-night: so we have nothing to do, but to eat our suppers betimes, and go to bed. Ay, that's pure, said I; and I shall have good rest this night, I hope. So, said she, you might every night, but for your own idle fears. You are afraid of your friends, when none are near you. Ay, that's true, said I; for I have not one near me.
So I have one more good honest night before me: What the next may be I know not, and so I'll try to take in a good deal of sleep, while I can be a little easy. Therefore, here I say, Good night, my dear parents; for I have no more to write about this night: and though his letter shocks me, yet I will be as brisk as I can, that she mayn't suspect I have seen it.
Tuesday night.
For the future, I will always mistrust most when appearances look fairest. O your poor daughter! what has she not suffered since what I wrote on Sunday night!—My worst trial, and my fearfullest danger! O how I shudder229 to write you an account of this wicked interval230 of time! For, my dear parents, will you not be too much frightened and affected231 with my distress, when I tell you, that his journey to Stamford was all abominable pretence232! for he came home privately233, and had well nigh effected all his vile purposes, and the ruin of your poor daughter! and that by such a plot as I was not in the least apprehensive234 of: And, oh! you'll hear what a vile and unwomanly part that wicked wretch, Mrs. Jewkes, acted in it!
I left off with letting you know how much I was pleased that I had one night's reprieve added to my honesty. But I had less occasion to rejoice than ever, as you will judge by what I have said already. Take, then, the dreadful story, as well as I can relate it.
The maid Nan is a little apt to drink, if she can get at liquor; and Mrs. Jewkes happened, or designed, as is too probable, to leave a bottle of cherry-brandy in her way, and the wench drank some of it more than she should; and when she came in to lay the cloth, Mrs. Jewkes perceived it, and fell a rating at her most sadly; for she has too many faults of her own, to suffer any of the like sort in any body else, if she can help it; and she bid her get out of her sight, when we had supped, and go to bed, to sleep off her liquor, before we came to bed. And so the poor maid went muttering up stairs.
About two hours after, which was near eleven o'clock, Mrs. Jewkes and I went up to go to bed; I pleasing myself with what a charming night I should have. We locked both doors, and saw poor Nan, as I thought, (but, oh! 'twas my abominable master, as you shall hear by and by,) sitting fast asleep, in an elbow-chair, in a dark corner of the room, with her apron235 thrown over her head and neck. And Mrs. Jewkes said, There is that beast of a wench fast asleep, instead of being a-bed! I knew, said she, she had taken a fine dose. I'll wake her, said I. No, don't, said she; let her sleep on; we shall he better without her. Ay, said I, so we shall; but won't she get cold?
点击收听单词发音
1 abated | |
减少( abate的过去式和过去分词 ); 减去; 降价; 撤消(诉讼) | |
参考例句: |
|
|
2 dread | |
vt.担忧,忧虑;惧怕,不敢;n.担忧,畏惧 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
3 dart | |
v.猛冲,投掷;n.飞镖,猛冲 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
4 benighted | |
adj.蒙昧的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
5 wretch | |
n.可怜的人,不幸的人;卑鄙的人 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
6 mischief | |
n.损害,伤害,危害;恶作剧,捣蛋,胡闹 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
7 mischiefs | |
损害( mischief的名词复数 ); 危害; 胡闹; 调皮捣蛋的人 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
8 devoid | |
adj.全无的,缺乏的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
9 compassion | |
n.同情,怜悯 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
10 horrid | |
adj.可怕的;令人惊恐的;恐怖的;极讨厌的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
11 afflicting | |
痛苦的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
12 distress | |
n.苦恼,痛苦,不舒适;不幸;vt.使悲痛 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
13 distressed | |
痛苦的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
14 determined | |
adj.坚定的;有决心的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
15 soothing | |
adj.慰藉的;使人宽心的;镇静的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
16 wretches | |
n.不幸的人( wretch的名词复数 );可怜的人;恶棍;坏蛋 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
17 remorse | |
n.痛恨,悔恨,自责 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
18 lament | |
n.悲叹,悔恨,恸哭;v.哀悼,悔恨,悲叹 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
19 corpse | |
n.尸体,死尸 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
20 hap | |
n.运气;v.偶然发生 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
21 soften | |
v.(使)变柔软;(使)变柔和 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
22 obdurate | |
adj.固执的,顽固的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
23 resentments | |
(因受虐待而)愤恨,不满,怨恨( resentment的名词复数 ) | |
参考例句: |
|
|
24 persecute | |
vt.迫害,虐待;纠缠,骚扰 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
25 persecuted | |
(尤指宗教或政治信仰的)迫害(~sb. for sth.)( persecute的过去式和过去分词 ); 烦扰,困扰或骚扰某人 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
26 guilt | |
n.犯罪;内疚;过失,罪责 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
27 ward | |
n.守卫,监护,病房,行政区,由监护人或法院保护的人(尤指儿童);vt.守护,躲开 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
28 maiden | |
n.少女,处女;adj.未婚的,纯洁的,无经验的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
29 maidens | |
处女( maiden的名词复数 ); 少女; 未婚女子; (板球运动)未得分的一轮投球 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
30 ballads | |
民歌,民谣,特别指叙述故事的歌( ballad的名词复数 ); 讴 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
31 elegies | |
n.哀歌,挽歌( elegy的名词复数 ) | |
参考例句: |
|
|
32 bruises | |
n.瘀伤,伤痕,擦伤( bruise的名词复数 ) | |
参考例句: |
|
|
33 prospect | |
n.前景,前途;景色,视野 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
34 almighty | |
adj.全能的,万能的;很大的,很强的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
35 mighty | |
adj.强有力的;巨大的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
36 persecuting | |
(尤指宗教或政治信仰的)迫害(~sb. for sth.)( persecute的现在分词 ); 烦扰,困扰或骚扰某人 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
37 meditated | |
深思,沉思,冥想( meditate的过去式和过去分词 ); 内心策划,考虑 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
38 kindly | |
adj.和蔼的,温和的,爽快的;adv.温和地,亲切地 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
39 tempt | |
vt.引诱,勾引,吸引,引起…的兴趣 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
40 tempted | |
v.怂恿(某人)干不正当的事;冒…的险(tempt的过去分词) | |
参考例句: |
|
|
41 precipitate | |
adj.突如其来的;vt.使突然发生;n.沉淀物 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
42 presumptuous | |
adj.胆大妄为的,放肆的,冒昧的,冒失的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
43 wilt | |
v.(使)植物凋谢或枯萎;(指人)疲倦,衰弱 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
44 augment | |
vt.(使)增大,增加,增长,扩张 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
45 Augmented | |
adj.增音的 动词augment的过去式和过去分词形式 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
46 repent | |
v.悔悟,悔改,忏悔,后悔 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
47 repentance | |
n.懊悔 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
48 plunge | |
v.跳入,(使)投入,(使)陷入;猛冲 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
49 everlasting | |
adj.永恒的,持久的,无止境的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
50 misery | |
n.痛苦,苦恼,苦难;悲惨的境遇,贫苦 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
51 lurking | |
潜在 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
52 vileness | |
n.讨厌,卑劣 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
53 vile | |
adj.卑鄙的,可耻的,邪恶的;坏透的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
54 solely | |
adv.仅仅,唯一地 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
55 dependence | |
n.依靠,依赖;信任,信赖;隶属 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
56 blemished | |
v.有损…的完美,玷污( blemish的过去式 ) | |
参考例句: |
|
|
57 peril | |
n.(严重的)危险;危险的事物 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
58 perilous | |
adj.危险的,冒险的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
59 murmurs | |
n.低沉、连续而不清的声音( murmur的名词复数 );低语声;怨言;嘀咕 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
60 tempting | |
a.诱人的, 吸引人的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
61 repulsed | |
v.击退( repulse的过去式和过去分词 );驳斥;拒绝 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
62 awed | |
adj.充满敬畏的,表示敬畏的v.使敬畏,使惊惧( awe的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
参考例句: |
|
|
63 rebellious | |
adj.造反的,反抗的,难控制的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
64 consigned | |
v.把…置于(令人不快的境地)( consign的过去式和过去分词 );把…托付给;把…托人代售;丟弃 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
65 confinement | |
n.幽禁,拘留,监禁;分娩;限制,局限 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
66 woe | |
n.悲哀,苦痛,不幸,困难;int.用来表达悲伤或惊慌 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
67 nay | |
adv.不;n.反对票,投反对票者 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
68 miserable | |
adj.悲惨的,痛苦的;可怜的,糟糕的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
69 scribble | |
v.潦草地书写,乱写,滥写;n.潦草的写法,潦草写成的东西,杂文 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
70 blotted | |
涂污( blot的过去式和过去分词 ); (用吸墨纸)吸干 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
71 reprehension | |
n.非难,指责 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
72 chamber | |
n.房间,寝室;会议厅;议院;会所 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
73 wrung | |
绞( wring的过去式和过去分词 ); 握紧(尤指别人的手); 把(湿衣服)拧干; 绞掉(水) | |
参考例句: |
|
|
74 casement | |
n.竖铰链窗;窗扉 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
75 eel | |
n.鳗鲡 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
76 agitation | |
n.搅动;搅拌;鼓动,煽动 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
77 thither | |
adv.向那里;adj.在那边的,对岸的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
78 dismal | |
adj.阴沉的,凄凉的,令人忧郁的,差劲的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
79 lamenting | |
adj.悲伤的,悲哀的v.(为…)哀悼,痛哭,悲伤( lament的现在分词 ) | |
参考例句: |
|
|
80 wailing | |
v.哭叫,哀号( wail的现在分词 );沱 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
81 helping | |
n.食物的一份&adj.帮助人的,辅助的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
82 witchcraft | |
n.魔法,巫术 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
83 squeal | |
v.发出长而尖的声音;n.长而尖的声音 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
84 bruised | |
[医]青肿的,瘀紫的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
85 robin | |
n.知更鸟,红襟鸟 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
86 sobs | |
啜泣(声),呜咽(声)( sob的名词复数 ) | |
参考例句: |
|
|
87 bloody | |
adj.非常的的;流血的;残忍的;adv.很;vt.血染 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
88 inhuman | |
adj.残忍的,不人道的,无人性的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
89 inclination | |
n.倾斜;点头;弯腰;斜坡;倾度;倾向;爱好 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
90 imputed | |
v.把(错误等)归咎于( impute的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
参考例句: |
|
|
91 fatigue | |
n.疲劳,劳累 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
92 clotted | |
adj.凝结的v.凝固( clot的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
参考例句: |
|
|
93 gash | |
v.深切,划开;n.(深长的)切(伤)口;裂缝 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
94 refreshing | |
adj.使精神振作的,使人清爽的,使人喜欢的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
95 feverish | |
adj.发烧的,狂热的,兴奋的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
96 providence | |
n.深谋远虑,天道,天意;远见;节约;上帝 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
97 delirious | |
adj.不省人事的,神智昏迷的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
98 feverishness | |
参考例句: |
|
|
99 frankly | |
adv.坦白地,直率地;坦率地说 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
100 apprehended | |
逮捕,拘押( apprehend的过去式和过去分词 ); 理解 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
101 apprehend | |
vt.理解,领悟,逮捕,拘捕,忧虑 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
102 devoted | |
adj.忠诚的,忠实的,热心的,献身于...的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
103 worthy | |
adj.(of)值得的,配得上的;有价值的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
104 formerly | |
adv.从前,以前 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
105 adjuration | |
n.祈求,命令 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
106 abridged | |
削减的,删节的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
107 writ | |
n.命令状,书面命令 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
108 tauntingly | |
嘲笑地,辱骂地; 嘲骂地 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
109 vex | |
vt.使烦恼,使苦恼 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
110 blessing | |
n.祈神赐福;祷告;祝福,祝愿 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
111 coveted | |
adj.令人垂涎的;垂涎的,梦寐以求的v.贪求,觊觎(covet的过去分词);垂涎;贪图 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
112 calamity | |
n.灾害,祸患,不幸事件 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
113 apprehension | |
n.理解,领悟;逮捕,拘捕;忧虑 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
114 apprehensions | |
疑惧 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
115 incensed | |
盛怒的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
116 persecutor | |
n. 迫害者 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
117 incurred | |
[医]招致的,遭受的; incur的过去式 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
118 scruples | |
n.良心上的不安( scruple的名词复数 );顾虑,顾忌v.感到于心不安,有顾忌( scruple的第三人称单数 ) | |
参考例句: |
|
|
119 abominable | |
adj.可厌的,令人憎恶的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
120 agitated | |
adj.被鼓动的,不安的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
121 imprisonment | |
n.关押,监禁,坐牢 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
122 vexed | |
adj.争论不休的;(指问题等)棘手的;争论不休的问题;烦恼的v.使烦恼( vex的过去式和过去分词 );使苦恼;使生气;详细讨论 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
123 housekeeper | |
n.管理家务的主妇,女管家 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
124 ridicule | |
v.讥讽,挖苦;n.嘲弄 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
125 ridicules | |
n.嘲笑( ridicule的名词复数 );奚落;嘲弄;戏弄v.嘲笑,嘲弄,奚落( ridicule的第三人称单数 ) | |
参考例句: |
|
|
126 impudent | |
adj.鲁莽的,卑鄙的,厚颜无耻的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
127 filthily | |
adv.污秽地,丑恶地,不洁地 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
128 perfectly | |
adv.完美地,无可非议地,彻底地 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
129 musing | |
n. 沉思,冥想 adj. 沉思的, 冥想的 动词muse的现在分词形式 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
130 grooms | |
n.新郎( groom的名词复数 );马夫v.照料或梳洗(马等)( groom的第三人称单数 );使做好准备;训练;(给动物)擦洗 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
131 waddling | |
v.(像鸭子一样)摇摇摆摆地走( waddle的现在分词 ) | |
参考例句: |
|
|
132 raving | |
adj.说胡话的;疯狂的,怒吼的;非常漂亮的;令人醉心[痴心]的v.胡言乱语(rave的现在分词)n.胡话;疯话adv.胡言乱语地;疯狂地 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
133 crooked | |
adj.弯曲的;不诚实的,狡猾的,不正当的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
134 majestic | |
adj.雄伟的,壮丽的,庄严的,威严的,崇高的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
135 perverse | |
adj.刚愎的;坚持错误的,行为反常的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
136 runaway | |
n.逃走的人,逃亡,亡命者;adj.逃亡的,逃走的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
137 sobbed | |
哭泣,啜泣( sob的过去式和过去分词 ); 哭诉,呜咽地说 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
138 prostrates | |
v.使俯伏,使拜倒( prostrate的第三人称单数 );(指疾病、天气等)使某人无能为力 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
139 wiles | |
n.(旨在欺骗或吸引人的)诡计,花招;欺骗,欺诈( wile的名词复数 ) | |
参考例句: |
|
|
140 mimic | |
v.模仿,戏弄;n.模仿他人言行的人 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
141 humble | |
adj.谦卑的,恭顺的;地位低下的;v.降低,贬低 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
142 hideous | |
adj.丑陋的,可憎的,可怕的,恐怖的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
143 remains | |
n.剩余物,残留物;遗体,遗迹 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
144 sullen | |
adj.愠怒的,闷闷不乐的,(天气等)阴沉的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
145 obstinacy | |
n.顽固;(病痛等)难治 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
146 pucker | |
v.撅起,使起皱;n.(衣服上的)皱纹,褶子 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
147 undo | |
vt.解开,松开;取消,撤销 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
148 fable | |
n.寓言;童话;神话 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
149 accusation | |
n.控告,指责,谴责 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
150 innocence | |
n.无罪;天真;无害 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
151 aggravated | |
使恶化( aggravate的过去式和过去分词 ); 使更严重; 激怒; 使恼火 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
152 contented | |
adj.满意的,安心的,知足的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
153 prate | |
v.瞎扯,胡说 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
154 meek | |
adj.温顺的,逆来顺受的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
155 heartily | |
adv.衷心地,诚恳地,十分,很 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
156 Christian | |
adj.基督教徒的;n.基督教徒 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
157 meekness | |
n.温顺,柔和 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
158 overflow | |
v.(使)外溢,(使)溢出;溢出,流出,漫出 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
159 standing | |
n.持续,地位;adj.永久的,不动的,直立的,不流动的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
160 artifice | |
n.妙计,高明的手段;狡诈,诡计 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
161 artifices | |
n.灵巧( artifice的名词复数 );诡计;巧妙办法;虚伪行为 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
162 guileful | |
adj.狡诈的,诡计多端的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
163 corrupt | |
v.贿赂,收买;adj.腐败的,贪污的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
164 intriguing | |
adj.有趣的;迷人的v.搞阴谋诡计(intrigue的现在分词);激起…的好奇心 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
165 bosom | |
n.胸,胸部;胸怀;内心;adj.亲密的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
166 sycophant | |
n.马屁精 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
167 profligate | |
adj.行为不检的;n.放荡的人,浪子,肆意挥霍者 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
168 stammer | |
n.结巴,口吃;v.结结巴巴地说 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
169 passionate | |
adj.热情的,热烈的,激昂的,易动情的,易怒的,性情暴躁的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
170 exclamation | |
n.感叹号,惊呼,惊叹词 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
171 beset | |
v.镶嵌;困扰,包围 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
172 disturbance | |
n.动乱,骚动;打扰,干扰;(身心)失调 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
173 discredit | |
vt.使不可置信;n.丧失信义;不信,怀疑 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
174 corrupted | |
(使)败坏( corrupt的过去式和过去分词 ); (使)腐化; 引起(计算机文件等的)错误; 破坏 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
175 honourable | |
adj.可敬的;荣誉的,光荣的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
176 grimace | |
v.做鬼脸,面部歪扭 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
177 doom | |
n.厄运,劫数;v.注定,命定 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
178 fixed | |
adj.固定的,不变的,准备好的;(计算机)固定的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
179 reprieve | |
n.暂缓执行(死刑);v.缓期执行;给…带来缓解 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
180 apprehending | |
逮捕,拘押( apprehend的现在分词 ); 理解 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
181 alias | |
n.化名;别名;adv.又名 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
182 knight | |
n.骑士,武士;爵士 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
183 detest | |
vt.痛恨,憎恶 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
184 avenging | |
adj.报仇的,复仇的v.为…复仇,报…之仇( avenge的现在分词 );为…报复 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
185 undone | |
a.未做完的,未完成的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
186 abhors | |
v.憎恶( abhor的第三人称单数 );(厌恶地)回避;拒绝;淘汰 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
187 opprobrious | |
adj.可耻的,辱骂的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
188 motive | |
n.动机,目的;adv.发动的,运动的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
189 dishonour | |
n./vt.拒付(支票、汇票、票据等);vt.凌辱,使丢脸;n.不名誉,耻辱,不光彩 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
190 deductions | |
扣除( deduction的名词复数 ); 结论; 扣除的量; 推演 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
191 noisome | |
adj.有害的,可厌的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
192 dungeon | |
n.地牢,土牢 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
193 monarch | |
n.帝王,君主,最高统治者 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
194 frightful | |
adj.可怕的;讨厌的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
195 gratuities | |
n.报酬( gratuity的名词复数 );小账;小费;养老金 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
196 virtue | |
n.德行,美德;贞操;优点;功效,效力 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
197 consolation | |
n.安慰,慰问 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
198 violation | |
n.违反(行为),违背(行为),侵犯 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
199 abortive | |
adj.不成功的,发育不全的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
200 bribes | |
n.贿赂( bribe的名词复数 );向(某人)行贿,贿赂v.贿赂( bribe的第三人称单数 );向(某人)行贿,贿赂 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
201 contentedly | |
adv.心满意足地 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
202 gaudy | |
adj.华而不实的;俗丽的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
203 ornaments | |
n.装饰( ornament的名词复数 );点缀;装饰品;首饰v.装饰,点缀,美化( ornament的第三人称单数 ) | |
参考例句: |
|
|
204 inviolate | |
adj.未亵渎的,未受侵犯的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
205 acquit | |
vt.宣判无罪;(oneself)使(自己)表现出 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
206 foul | |
adj.污秽的;邪恶的;v.弄脏;妨害;犯规;n.犯规 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
207 perusal | |
n.细读,熟读;目测 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
208 perverseness | |
n. 乖张, 倔强, 顽固 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
209 exasperated | |
adj.恼怒的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
210 obedience | |
n.服从,顺从 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
211 affront | |
n./v.侮辱,触怒 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
212 worthier | |
应得某事物( worthy的比较级 ); 值得做某事; 可尊敬的; 有(某人或事物)的典型特征 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
213 feats | |
功绩,伟业,技艺( feat的名词复数 ) | |
参考例句: |
|
|
214 bleat | |
v.咩咩叫,(讲)废话,哭诉;n.咩咩叫,废话,哭诉 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
215 obstinate | |
adj.顽固的,倔强的,不易屈服的,较难治愈的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
216 witty | |
adj.机智的,风趣的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
217 wilful | |
adj.任性的,故意的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
218 scribbled | |
v.潦草的书写( scribble的过去式和过去分词 );乱画;草草地写;匆匆记下 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
219 importunate | |
adj.强求的;纠缠不休的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
220 dressing | |
n.(食物)调料;包扎伤口的用品,敷料 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
221 preservation | |
n.保护,维护,保存,保留,保持 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
222 vices | |
缺陷( vice的名词复数 ); 恶习; 不道德行为; 台钳 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
223 alas | |
int.唉(表示悲伤、忧愁、恐惧等) | |
参考例句: |
|
|
224 jealousy | |
n.妒忌,嫉妒,猜忌 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
225 avowed | |
adj.公开声明的,承认的v.公开声明,承认( avow的过去式和过去分词) | |
参考例句: |
|
|
226 survivor | |
n.生存者,残存者,幸存者 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
227 transcribed | |
(用不同的录音手段)转录( transcribe的过去式和过去分词 ); 改编(乐曲)(以适应他种乐器或声部); 抄写; 用音标标出(声音) | |
参考例句: |
|
|
228 thoroughly | |
adv.完全地,彻底地,十足地 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
229 shudder | |
v.战粟,震动,剧烈地摇晃;n.战粟,抖动 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
230 interval | |
n.间隔,间距;幕间休息,中场休息 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
231 affected | |
adj.不自然的,假装的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
232 pretence | |
n.假装,作假;借口,口实;虚伪;虚饰 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
233 privately | |
adv.以私人的身份,悄悄地,私下地 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
234 apprehensive | |
adj.担心的,恐惧的,善于领会的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
235 apron | |
n.围裙;工作裙 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
欢迎访问英文小说网 |