CHAPTER V.
_The death of Sir Thomas Booby, with the affectionate and mournfulbehaviour of his widow, and the great purity of Joseph Andrews._
At this time an accident happened which put a stop to those agreeablewalks, which probably would have soon puffed up the cheeks of Fame, andcaused her to blow her brazen trumpet through the town; and this was noother than the death of Sir Thomas Booby, who, departing this life, lefthis disconsolate lady confined to her house, as closely as if sheherself had been attacked by some violent disease. During the first sixdays the poor lady admitted none but Mrs. Slipslop, and three femalefriends, who made a party at cards: but on the seventh she ordered Joey,whom, for a good reason, we shall hereafter call JOSEPH, to bring up hertea-kettle. The lady being in bed, called Joseph to her, bade him sitdown, and, having accidentally laid her hand on his, she asked him if hehad ever been in love. Joseph answered, with some confusion, it was timeenough for one so young as himself to think on such things. "As young asyou are," replied the lady, "I am convinced you are no stranger to thatpassion. Come, Joey," says she, "tell me truly, who is the happy girlwhose eyes have made a conquest of you?" Joseph returned, that all thewomen he had ever seen were equally indifferent to him. "Oh then," saidthe lady, "you are a general lover. Indeed, you handsome fellows, likehandsome women, are very long and difficult in fixing; but yet youshall never persuade me that your heart is so insusceptible ofaffection; I rather impute what you say to your secrecy, a verycommendable quality, and what I am far from being angry with you for.Nothing can be more unworthy in a young man, than to betray anyintimacies with the ladies." "Ladies! madam," said Joseph, "I am sure Inever had the impudence to think of any that deserve that name." "Don'tpretend to too much modesty," said she, "for that sometimes may beimpertinent: but pray answer me this question. Suppose a lady shouldhappen to like you; suppose she should prefer you to all your sex, andadmit you to the same familiarities as you might have hoped for if youhad been born her equal, are you certain that no vanity could tempt youto discover her? Answer me honestly, Joseph; have you so much more senseand so much more virtue than you handsome young fellows generally have,who make no scruple of sacrificing our dear reputation to your pride,without considering the great obligation we lay on you by ourcondescension and confidence? Can you keep a secret, my Joey?" "Madam,"says he, "I hope your ladyship can't tax me with ever betraying thesecrets of the family; and I hope, if you was to turn me away, I mighthave that character of you." "I don't intend to turn you away, Joey,"said she, and sighed; "I am afraid it is not in my power." She thenraised herself a little in her bed, and discovered one of the whitestnecks that ever was seen; at which Joseph blushed. "La!" says she, in anaffected surprize, "what am I doing? I have trusted myself with a manalone, naked in bed; suppose you should have any wicked intentions uponmy honour, how should I defend myself?" Joseph protested that he neverhad the least evil design against her. "No," says she, "perhaps you maynot call your designs wicked; and perhaps they are not so."--He sworethey were not. "You misunderstand me," says she; "I mean if they wereagainst my honour, they may not be wicked; but the world calls them so.But then, say you, the world will never know anything of the matter; yetwould not that be trusting to your secrecy? Must not my reputation bethen in your power? Would you not then be my master?" Joseph begged herladyship to be comforted; for that he would never imagine the leastwicked thing against her, and that he had rather die a thousand deathsthan give her any reason to suspect him. "Yes," said she, "I must havereason to suspect you. Are you not a man? and, without vanity, I maypretend to some charms. But perhaps you may fear I should prosecute you;indeed I hope you do; and yet Heaven knows I should never have theconfidence to appear before a court of justice; and you know, Joey, I amof a forgiving temper. Tell me, Joey, don't you think I should forgiveyou?"--"Indeed, madam," says Joseph, "I will never do anything todisoblige your ladyship."--"How," says she, "do you think it would notdisoblige me then? Do you think I would willingly suffer you?"--"I don'tunderstand you, madam," says Joseph.--"Don't you?" said she, "then youare either a fool, or pretend to be so; I find I was mistaken in you. Soget you downstairs, and never let me see your face again; your pretendedinnocence cannot impose on me."--"Madam," said Joseph, "I would not haveyour ladyship think any evil of me. I have always endeavoured to be adutiful servant both to you and my master."--"O thou villain!" answeredmy lady; "why didst thou mention the name of that dear man, unless totorment me, to bring his precious memory to my mind?" (and then sheburst into a fit of tears.) "Get thee from my sight! I shall neverendure thee more." At which words she turned away from him; and Josephretreated from the room in a most disconsolate condition, and writ thatletter which the reader will find in the next chapter.
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