young creature, which was about a year and a half
old when I kidnapped it. We kept her (for she
was a girl) above two years in our company, when I
sold her myself, for three guineas, to Sir Thomas Booby,
in Somersetshire. Now, you know whether there
are any more of that name in this county.”
“Yes,” says Adams, “there are several
Boobys who are squires, but I believe no baronet now
alive; besides, it answers so exactly in every point,
there is no room for doubt; but you have forgot to
tell us the parents from whom the child was stolen.”
“Their name,” answered the pedlar, “was
Andrews. They lived about thirty miles from the
squire; and she told me that I might be sure to find
them out by one circumstance; for that they had a
daughter of a very strange name, Pamela, or Pam_e_la;
some pronounced it one way, and some the other.”
Fanny, who had changed colour at the first mention
of the name, now fainted away; Joseph turned pale,
and poor Dicky began to roar; the parson fell on his
knees, and ejaculated many thanksgivings that this
discovery had been made before the dreadful sin of
incest was committed; and the pedlar was struck with
amazement, not being able to account for all this
confusion; the cause of which was presently opened
by the parson’s daughter, who was the only unconcerned
person (for the mother was chafing Fanny’s temples,
and taking the utmost care of her): and, indeed,
Fanny was the only creature whom the daughter would
not have pitied in her situation; wherein, though
we compassionate her ourselves, we shall leave her
for a little while, and pay a short visit to Lady
Booby.
CHAPTER XIII.
The history, returning to the Lady Booby, gives
some account of the terrible conflict in her breast
between love and pride; with what happened on the
present discovery.
The lady sat down with her company to dinner, but
eat nothing. As soon as her cloth was removed
she whispered Pamela that she was taken a little ill,
and desired her to entertain her husband and beau Didapper.
She then went up into her chamber, sent for Slipslop,
threw herself on the bed in the agonies of love, rage,
and despair; nor could she conceal these boiling passions
longer without bursting. Slipslop now approached
her bed, and asked how her ladyship did; but, instead
of revealing her disorder, as she intended, she entered
into a long encomium on the beauty and virtues of
Joseph Andrews; ending, at last, with expressing her
concern that so much tenderness should be thrown away
on so despicable an object as Fanny. Slipslop,
well knowing how to humour her mistress’s frenzy,
proceeded to repeat, with exaggeration, if possible,
all her mistress had said, and concluded with a wish
that Joseph had been a gentleman, and that she could
see her lady in the arms of such a husband. The
lady then started from the bed, and, taking a turn
or two across the room, cryed out, with a deep sigh,
“Sure he would make any woman happy!”—“Your
