My dear Lady,
I will be preparing to write to you, as I have opportunity,
not doubting but this must be a long letter; and having some
apprehensions, that, as things may fall out, I may want either head
or heart to write to your ladyship, were I to defer it till the
catastrophe of this cruel suspense.
O what a happiness am I sunk from!--And in so few days too! O the
wicked masquerades!
The following letter, in a woman's hand, and signed, as you'll see, by
a woman's name, and spelt as I spell it, will account to your ladyship
for my beginning so heavily. It came by the penny-post.
"Madame,
"I ame unknowne to yowe; but yowe are not so altogathar to mee, becaus
I haue bene edefy'd by yowre pius behafiorr att church, whir I see
yowe with playsir everie Sabbaoth day. I ame welle acquaintid with the
famely of the Coumptesse of---; and yowe maie passiblie haue hard what
you wished not to haue hard concerninge hir. Butt this verie
morninge, I can assur yowe, hir ladishippe is gon with yowre spowse to
Tonbrigge; and theire they are to take lodgings, or a hous; and Mr. B.
is after to come to town, and settel matters to go downe to hir, where
they are to liue as man and wiffe. Make what use yowe pleas of thiss
informasion: and belieue me to haue no other motife, than to serue
yowe, becavs of yowre vartues, whiche make yowe deserue a better
retorne, I am, thof I shall not set my trewe name, _yowre grete
admirer and seruant_,
"THOMASINE FULLER.
"Wednesday morninge,
"9 o'clock."
Just above I called my state, a state of _cruel suspense_. But I
recall the words: for now it is no longer suspense; since, if this
letter says truth, I know the worst: and there is too much appearance
that it does, let the writer be who he will, or his or her motive what
it will: for, after all, I am apt to fancy this a contrivance of Mr.
Turner's, though, for fear of ill consequences, I will not say so.
And now, Madam, I am endeavouring, by the help of religion, and cool
reflection, to bring my mind to bear this heavy evil, and to recollect
what I _was_, and how much more honourable an estate I _am in_, than
I could ever have expected to be in; that my virtue and good name are
secured; and I can return innocent to my dear parents: and these were
once the only pride of my heart.
In addition to what I was then (and yet I pleased myself with my
prospects, poor as they were), I have honest parents, bountifully
provided for, thank God and your ever-dear brother for this
blessing!--and not only provided for--but made useful to him, to the
amount of their provision, well-nigh! There is a pride, my lady!
Then I shall have better conditions from his generosity to support
myself, than I can wish for, or make use of.
Then I have my dear Billy-O be contented, too charming, and too happy
rival, with my husband; and tear not from me my dearest baby, the
pledge, the beloved pledge, of our happier affections, and the dear
remembrance of what I once was!--A thousand pleasing prospects, that
had begun to dawn on my mind, I can bear to have dissipated! But I
cannot, indeed I cannot! permit my dear Mr. B.'s son and heir to be
torn from me.
But I am running on in a strain that shews my impatience, rather than
my resignation; yet some struggles must be allowed me: I could not
have loved, as I love, if I could easily part with my interest in so
beloved a husband.--For my interest I _will_ part with, and sooner
die, than live with a gentleman who has another wife, though I was
the first. Let countesses, if they can, and ladies of birth, choose to
humble themselves to this baseness. The low-born Pamela cannot stoop
to it. Pardon me; you know I only write this with a view to this poor
lady's answer to her noble uncle, of which you wrote me word.