Pamela, or Virtue Rewarded

Let me write, and bewail my miserable hard fate, though I have no hope how what I write can be conveyed to your hands!—I have now nothing to do, but write and weep, and fear and...

This is one of the good-natured hints that might shock your sweetness, on reflecting that you are yoked with a murderer. The other—Nay, brother, said she, say no more. ’Tis your...

I will continue my writing still, because, may be, I shall like to read it, when I am with you, to see what dangers I have been enabled to escape; and though I bring it along wi...

I must write on, though I shall come so soon; for now I have hardly any thing else to do. I have finished all that lay upon me, and only wait the good time of setting out. Mrs....

I shall write on, as long as I stay, though I should have nothing but silliness to write; for I know you divert yourselves on nights with what I write, because it is mine. John...

O let me take up my complaint, and say, Never was poor creature so unhappy, and so barbarously used, as poor Pamela! Indeed, my dear father and mother, my heart’s just broke! I...

Well, you may believe how uneasily I passed the time, till his appointed hour came. Every minute, as it grew nearer, my terrors increased; and sometimes I had great courage, and...

John says you wept when you read my last letter, that he carried. I am sorry you let him see that; for they all mistrust already how matters are, and as it is no credit that I h...

I write again, though, may be, I shall bring it to you in my pocket: for I shall have no writing, nor writing-time, I hope, when I come to you. This is Wednesday morning, and I...

I am glad I desired you not to meet me, and John says you won’t; for he told you he is sure I shall get a passage well enough, either behind some one of my fellow-servants on ho...

I broke off abruptly my last letter; for I feared he was coming; and so it happened. I put the letter in my bosom, and took up my work, which lay by me; but I had so little of t...

Our John having an opportunity to go your way, I write again, and send both letters at once. I can’t say, yet, when I shall get away, nor how I shall come, because Mrs. Jervis s...

We had a great many neighbouring gentlemen, and their ladies, this day, at dinner; and my master made a fine entertainment for them: and Isaac, and Mr. Jonathan, and Benjamin, w...

All my fellow-servants have now some notion that I am to go away; but can’t imagine for what. Mrs. Jervis tells them, that my father and mother, growing in years, cannot live wi...

I did not rise till ten o’clock, and I had all the concerns and wishes of the family, and multitudes of inquiries about me. My wicked master went out early to hunt; but left wor...

Well, I will now proceed with my sad story. And so, after I had dried my eyes, I went in, and began to ruminate with myself what I had best to do. Sometimes I thought I would le...

I did not send my last letters so soon as I hoped, because John (whether my master mistrusts or no, I can’t say) had been sent to Lady Davers’s instead of Isaac, who used to go;...

I thank you a thousand tines for your goodness to me, expressed in your last letter. I now long to get my business done, and come to my new old lot again, as I may call it. I ha...

Well, I can’t find my letter, and so I’ll try to recollect it all, and be as brief as I can. All went well enough in the main for some time after my letter but one. At last, I s...

I have great trouble, and some comfort, to acquaint you with. The trouble is, that my good lady died of the illness I mentioned to you, and left us all much grieved for the loss...

Mrs. Jervis and I have lived very comfortably together for this fortnight past; for my master was all that time at his Lincolnshire estate, and at his sister’s, the Lady Davers....

Your letter was indeed a great trouble, and some comfort, to me and your poor mother. We are troubled, to be sure, for your good lady’s death, who took such care of you, and gav...

I was forced to break off: for I feared my master was coming: but it proved to be only Mrs. Jervis. She said, I can’t endure you should be so much by yourself, Pamela. And I, sa...

John being to go your way, I am willing to write, because he is so willing to carry any thing for me. He says it does him good at his heart to see you both, and to hear you talk...

Since my last, my master gave me more fine things. He called me up to my late lady’s closet, and, pulling out her drawers, he gave me two suits of fine Flanders laced head-cloth...

For the last was to my father, in answer to his letter; and so I will now write to you; though I have nothing to say, but what will make me look more like a vain hussy, than any...

My master has been very kind since my last; for he has given me a suit of my late lady’s clothes, and half a dozen of her shifts, and six fine handkerchiefs, and three of her ca...

You and my good father may wonder you have not had a letter from me in so many weeks; but a sad, sad scene, has been the occasion of it. For to be sure, now it is too plain, tha...

I cannot but renew my cautions on your master’s kindness, and his free expression to you about the stockings. Yet there may not be, and I hope there is not, any thing in it. But...

Our hearts bleed for your distress, and the temptations you are exposed to. You have our hourly prayers; and we would have you flee this evil great house and man, if you find he...

I must needs say, your letter has filled me with trouble, for it has made my heart, which was overflowing with gratitude for my master’s goodness, suspicious and fearful: and ye...

Samuel Richardson, the first, in order of time, of the great English novelists, was born in 1689 and died at London in 1761. He was a printer by trade, and rose to be master of...

I am sorry to write you word, that the hopes I had of going to wait on Lady Davers, are quite over. My lady would have had me; but my master, as I heard by the by, would not con...