I offered to go out, and Mrs. Jewkes took my hand to lead me out: But
her kinsman set his back against the door, and put his hand to his
sword, and said, I should not go, till his aunt permitted it. He drew it
half-way, and I was so terrified, that I cried out, Oh, the sword!
the sword! and, not knowing what I did, I ran to my lady herself, and
clasped my arms about her, forgetting, just then, how much she was my
enemy, and said, sinking on my knees, Defend me, good your ladyship! the
sword! the sword!--Mrs. Jewkes said, Oh! my lady will fall into fits!
But Lady Davers was herself so startled at the matter being carried so
far, that she did not mind her words, and said, Jackey, don't draw your
sword!--You see, as great as her spirit is, she can't bear that.
Come, said she, be comforted; he shan't frighten you!--I'll try to
overcome my anger, and will pity you. So, wench, rise up, and don't be
foolish. Mrs. Jewkes held her salts to my nose, and I did not faint. And
my lady said, Mrs. Jewkes, if you would be forgiven, leave Pamela and me
by ourselves; and, Jackey, do you withdraw; only you,
Beck, stay. So I sat down in the window, all in a sad fluster; for, to be sure, I
was sadly frightened.--Said her woman, You should not sit in my lady's
presence, Mrs. Pamela. Yes, let her sit till she is a little recovered
of her fright, said my lady, and do you set my chair by her. And so she
sat over-against me, and said, To be sure, Pamela, you have been very
provoking with your tongue, to be sure you have, as well upon my nephew,
(who is a man of quality too,) as me. And palliating her cruel usage,
and beginning, I suppose, to think herself she had carried it further
than she could answer it to her brother, she wanted to lay the fault
upon me. Own, said she, you have been very saucy; and beg my pardon,
and beg Jackey's pardon, and I will try to pity you. For you are a sweet
girl, after all; if you had but held out, and been honest.
'Tis injurious to me, madam, said I, to imagine I am not honest!--Said
she, Have you not been a-bed with my brother? tell me that. Your
ladyship, replied I, asks your questions in a strange way, and in
strange words. O! your delicacy is wounded, I suppose, by my plain questions!--This
niceness will soon leave you, wench: It will, indeed. But answer me
directly. Then your ladyship's next question, said I, will be, Am I
married? And you won't bear my answer to that--and will beat me again.