72, 273, 274. 'So I looked
into the Closets, and kneeled down, as I used to do, to say my Prayers,
and this _with my under Cloaths, all undrest_; and passed by the poor
sleeping Wench, as I thought, in my Return. But, Oh! little did I think,
it was my wicked, wicked Master in a Gown and Petticoat of hers, and her
Apron over his Face and Shoulders. Mrs. _Jewkes_ by this Time, was got
to-bed, on the further Side, as she used to be; and, to make room for
the Maid, when she should awake, I got into Bed, and lay close to her.
And I said, Where are the Keys? tho', said I, I am not so much afraid
to-Night. Here, said the wicked Woman, put your Arm under mine, and you
shall find them about my Wrist, as they used to be. So I did, and the
abominable Designer _held my Hand with her Right Hand_, as my Right Arm
was under her Left. In less than a quarter of an Hour, I said, There's
poor _Nan_ awake; I hear her stir. Let us go to sleep, said she, and
not mind her; She'll come to bed, when she's quite awake. Poor Soul!
said I, I'll warrant she'll have the Head-ach finely to-morrow for it!
Be silent said she, and go to sleep; you keep me awake; and I never
found you in so talkative a Humour in my Life. Don't chide me, said I; I
will say but one Thing more: Do you think _Nan_ could hear me talk of my
Master's Offers? No, no, said she; she was dead asleep. I'm glad of
that, said I; because I would not expose my Master to his common
Servants, and I knew _you_ were no Stranger to his _fine_ Articles. Said
she, I think they were fine Articles, and you were bewitch'd you did not
close in with them: But let us go to sleep. So I was silent; and the
pretended _Nan_ (O wicked base villainous Designer! What a Plot, what an
unexpected Plot, was this!) seem'd to be awaking; and Mrs. _Jewkes_,
abhorred Creature! said, Come, _Nan_!--What, are you awake at last?
Prithee come to-bed; for Mrs. _Pamela_ is in a talking Fit, and wont go
to sleep one while. At that the pretended She came to the Bed-side; and
sitting down in a Chair, where the Curtain hid her, began to undress.
Said I, poor Mrs. _Ann_, I warrant your Head aches most sadly! How do
you do?--She answered not one Word. Said the superlatively wicked Woman,
You know I have order'd her not to answer you. And this Plot, to be
sure, was laid when she gave her these Orders, the Night before. I heard
her, as I thought, _breathe all quick and short_: Indeed, said I, Mrs.
_Jewkes_, the poor Maid is not we