Pamela, said my lady, help me to a glass of wine. No, Beck, said she, you shan’t; for she was offering to do it. I will have my lady bride confer that honour upon me; and then I shall see if she can stand up. I was silent, and never stirred.
Dost hear, chastity? said she, help me to a glass of wine, when I bid thee.—What! not stir? Then I’ll come and help thee to one. Still I stirred not, and, fanning myself, continued silent. Said she, When I have asked thee, meek-one, half a dozen questions together, I suppose thou wilt answer them all at once! Pretty creature, is not that it?
I was so vexed, I bit a piece of my fan out, not knowing what I did; but still I said nothing, and did nothing but flutter it, and fan myself.
I believe, said she, my next question will make up half a dozen; and then, modest one, I shall be entitled to an answer.
He rose and brought the bottle and glass; Come, said he, Mrs. Bride, be pleased to help my lady, and I will be your deputy. Sir, replied I, it is in a good hand; help my lady yourself.—Why, creature, said she, dost thou think thyself above it?—And then flew into a passion:—Insolence! continued she, this moment, when I bid you, know your duty, and give me a glass of wine; or—
So I took a little spirit then—Thought I, I can but be beat.—If, said I, to attend your ladyship at table, or even kneel at your feet, was required of me, I would most gladly do it, were I only the person you think me; but, if it be to triumph over one who has received honours, that she thinks require her to act another part, not to be utterly unworthy of them, I must say, I cannot do it.
She seemed quite surprised, and looked now upon her kinsman, and then upon her woman—I’m astonished—quite astonished!—Well, then, I suppose you would have me conclude you my brother’s wife; could you not?
Your ladyship, said I, compels me to say this!—Well, returned she, but dost thou thyself think thou art so?—Silence, said her kinsman, gives consent. ’Tis plain enough she does. Shall I rise, madam, and pay my duty to my new aunt?
Tell me, said my lady, what, in the name of impudence, possesses thee to dare to look upon thyself as my sister?—Madam, replied I, that is a question will better become your most worthy brother to answer, than me.
She was rising in great wrath: but her woman said, Good your ladyship, you’ll do yourself more harm than her; and if the poor girl has been deluded so, as you have heard, with the sham marriage, she’ll be more deserving of your ladyship’s pity than anger. True, Beck, very true, said my lady; but there’s no bearing the impudence of the creature in the mean time.