CHAPTER IV.
The Adventure of a Beggar-man.
Just as Partridge had uttered that good and pious Doctrine, with which the last Chapter concluded, they arrived at another Crossway, when a lame Fellow in Rags asked them for Alms; upon which Partridge gave him a severe Rebuke, saying, ‘Every Parish ought to keep their own Poor.’ Jones then fell a laughing, and asked Partridge, if he was not ashamed, with so much Charity in his Mouth, to have no Charity in his Heart. ‘Your Religion,’ says he, ‘serves you only for an Excuse for your Faults, but is no Incentive to your Virtue. Can any Man who is really a Christian abstain from relieving one of his Brethren in such a miserable Condition?’ And at the same time putting his Hand in his Pocket, he gave the poor Object a Shilling.
‘Master,’ cries the Fellow, after thanking him, ‘I have a curious Thing here in my Pocket, which I found about two miles off, if your Worship will please to buy it. I should not venture to pull it out to every one; but as you are so good a Gentleman, and so kind to the Poor, you won’t suspect a Man of being a Thief only because he is poor.’ He then pulled out a little gilt Pocket-Book, and delivered it into the Hands of Jones.
Jones presently opened it, and (guess, Reader, what he felt,) saw in the first Page the Words Sophia Western, written by her own fair Hand. He no sooner read the Name, than he prest it close to his Lips; nor could he avoid falling into some very frantic Raptures, notwithstanding his Company; but, perhaps, these very Raptures made him forget he was not alone.
While Jones was kissing and mumbling the Book, as if he had an excellent brown butter’d Crust in his Mouth, or as if he had really been a Bookworm, or an Author, who had nothing to eat but his own Works, a Piece of Paper fell from its Leaves to the Ground, which Partridge took up, and delivered to Jones, who presently perceived it to be a Bank-Bill. It was, indeed, the very Bill which Western had given his Daughter, the Night before her Departure; and a Jew would have jumped to purchase it at five Shillings less than 100l.
The Eyes of Partridge sparkled at this News, which Jones now proclaimed aloud; and so did (tho’ with somewhat a different Aspect) those of the poor Fellow who had found the Book; and who (I hope from a Principle of Honesty) had never opened it: But we should not deal honestly by the Reader, if we omitted to inform him of a Circumstance, which may be here a little material, viz. That the Fellow could not read.
Jones, who had felt nothing but pure Joy and Transport from the finding the Book, was affected with a Mixture of Concern at this new Discovery: For his Imagination instantly suggested to him, that the Owner of the Bill might possibly want it, before he should be able to convey it to her. He then acquainted the Finder, that he knew the Lady to whom the Book belonged, and would endeavour to find her out as soon as possible, and return it her.
The Pocket-Book was a late Present from Mrs. Western to her Niece: It had cost five and twenty Shillings, having been bought of a celebrated Toyman; but the real Value of the Silver, which it contained in its Clasp, was about 18d. and that Price the said Toyman, as it was altogether as good as when it first issued from his Shop, would now have given for it. A prudent Person would, however, have taken proper Advantage of the Ignorance of this Fellow, and would not have offered more than a Shilling, or perhaps Sixpence for it; nay, some perhaps would have given nothing, and left the Fellow to his Action of Trover,1 which some learned Serjeants may doubt whether he could, under these Circumstances, have maintained.
Jones, on the contrary, whose Character was on the Outside of Generosity, and may perhaps not very unjustly have been suspected of Extravagance, without any Hesitation, gave a Guinea in Exchange for the Book. The poor Man, who had not for a long Time before been possessed of so much Treasure, gave Mr. Jones a thousand Thanks, and discovered little less of Transport in his Muscles, than Jones had before shewn, when he had first read the Name of Sophia Western.
The Fellow very readily agreed to attend our Travellers to the Place where he had found the Pocket-Book. Together, therefore, they proceeded directly thither; but not so fast as Mr. Jones desired; for his Guide unfortunately happened to be lame, and could not possibly travel faster than a Mile an Hour. As this Place, therefore, was at above three Miles Distance, though the Fellow had said otherwise, the Reader need not be acquainted how long they were in walking it.
Jones opened the Book a hundred Times during their Walk, kissed it as often, talked much to himself, and very little to his Companions. At all which the Guide exprest some Signs of Astonishment to Partridge; who more than once shook his Head, and cry’d, ‘poor Gentleman! orandum est ut sit mens sana in corpore sano.’
At length they arrived at the very Spot where Sophia unhappily dropt the Pocket-Book, and where the Fellow had as happily found it. Here Jones offered to take Leave of his Guide, and to improve his Pace; but the Fellow, in whom that violent Surprize and Joy which the first Receipt of the Guinea had occasioned, was now considerably abated, and who had now had sufficient Time to recollect himself, put on a discontented Look, and, scratching his Head, said, ‘He hoped his Worship would give him something more. Your Worship,’ said he, ‘will, I hope, take it into your Consideration, that if I had not been honest I might have kept the Whole.’ And, indeed, this the Reader must confess to have been true. ‘If the Paper there,’ said he, ‘be worth 100l. I am sure the finding it deserves more than a Guinea. Besides, suppose your Worship should never see the Lady, nor give it her—and though your Worship looks and talks very much like a Gentleman, yet I have only your Worship’s bare Word: And, certainly, if the right Owner ben’t to be found, it all belongs to the first Finder. I hope your Worship will consider all these Matters. I am but a poor Man, and therefore don’t desire to have all; but it is but reasonable I should have my Share. Your Worship looks like a good Man, and, I hope, will consider my Honesty: For I might have kept every Farthing, and nobody ever the wiser.’ ‘I promise thee, upon my Honour,’ cries Jones, ‘that I know the right Owner, and will restore it her.’ ‘Nay, your Worship,’ answered the Fellow, ‘may do as you please as to that: if you will but give me my Share, that is one Half of the Money; your Honour may keep the rest yourself if you please;’ and concluded with swearing by a very vehement Oath, ‘that he would never mention a Syllable of it to any Man living.’
‘Lookee, Friend,’ cries Jones, ‘the right Owner shall certainly have again all that she lost; and as for any further Gratuity, I really cannot give it you at present; but let me know your Name, and where you live, and it is more than possible, you may hereafter have further Reason to rejoice at this Morning’s Adventure.’
‘I don’t know what you mean by Venture,’ cries the Fellow; ‘it seems, I must venture whether you will return the Lady her Money or no: But I hope your Worship will consider—’ ‘Come, come,’ said Partridge, ‘tell his Honour your Name, and where you may be found; I warrant you will never repent having put the Money into his Hands.’ The Fellow seeing no Hopes of recovering the Possession of the Pocket-Book, at last complied in giving in his Name and Place of Abode, which Jones writ upon a Piece of Paper with the Pencil of Sophia; and then placing the Paper in the same Page where she had writ her Name, he cried out, ‘There, Friend, you are the happiest Man alive; I have joined your Name to that of an Angel.’ ‘I don’t know any thing about Angels,’ answered the Fellow; ‘but I wish you would give me a little more Money, or else return me the Pocket-Book.’ Partridge now waxed wroth: He called the poor Cripple by several vile and opprobrious Names, and was absolutely proceeding to beat him, but Jones would not suffer any such Thing: And now telling the Fellow he would certainly find some Opportunity of serving him, Mr. Jones departed as fast as his Heels would carry him; and Partridge, into whom the Thoughts of the hundred Pound had infused new Spirits, followed his Leader; while the Man who was obliged to stay behind, fell to cursing them both, as well as his Parents; ‘For had they,’ says he, ‘sent me to Charity-School to learn to write and read and cast Accounts, I should have known the Value of these Matters as well
as other People.’
CHAPTER V.
Containing more Adventures which Mr. Jones and his
Companion met on the Road.
Our Travellers now walked so fast, that they had very little Time or Breath for Conversation; Jones meditating all the Way on Sophia, and Partridge on the Bank-Bill, which, though it gave him some Pleasure, caused him at the same Time to repine at Fortune, which, in all his Walks, had never given him such an Opportunity of shewing his Honesty. They had proceeded above three Miles, when Partridge, being unable any longer to keep up with Jones, called to him, and begged him a little to slacken his Pace: With this he was the more ready to comply, as he had for some Time lost the Footsteps of the Horses, which the Thaw had enabled him to trace for several Miles, and he was now upon a wide Common where were several Roads.
He here therefore stopt to consider which of these Roads he should pursue, when on a sudden they heard the Noise of a Drum that seemed at no great Distance. This Sound presently alarmed the Fears of Partridge, and he cried out, ‘Lord have Mercy upon us all; they are certainly a coming!’ ‘Who is coming?’ cried Jones; for Fear had long since given Place to softer Ideas in his Mind; and since his Adventure with the lame Man, he had been totally intent on pursuing Sophia, without entertaining one Thought of an Enemy. ‘Who!’ cries Partridge, ‘why the Rebels: But why should I call them Rebels? they may be very honest Gentlemen, for any thing I know to the contrary. The Devil take him that affronts them, I say. I am sure, if they have nothing to say to me, I will have nothing to say to them, but in a civil Way. For Heaven’s Sake, Sir, don’t affront them if they should come, and perhaps they may do us no Harm; but would it not be the wiser Way to creep into some of yonder Bushes till they are gone by? What can two unarmed Men do perhaps against Fifty thousand? Certainly nobody but a Madman; I hope your Honour is not offended; but certainly no Man who hath Mens sana in Corpore sano’—Here Jones interrupted this Torrent of Eloquence, which Fear had inspired, saying, ‘That by the Drum he perceived they were near some Town.’ He then made directly towards the Place whence the Noise proceeded, bidding Partridge ‘take Courage, for that he would lead him into no Danger;’ and adding, ‘it was impossible the Rebels should be so near.’
Partridge was a little comforted with this last Assurance; and tho’ he would more gladly have gone the contrary Way, he followed his Leader, his Heart beating Time, but not after the Manner of Heroes, to the Music of the Drum, which ceased not till they had traversed the Common, and were come into a narrow Lane.
And now Partridge, who kept even Pace with Jones, discovered something painted flying in the Air, a very few Yards before him, which fancying to be the Colours of the Enemy, he fell a bellowing, ‘O Lord, Sir, here they are; there is the Crown and Coffin.1 Oh Lord! I never saw any thing so terrible; and we are within Gunshot of them already.’
Jones no sooner looked up than he plainly perceived what it was which Partridge had thus mistaken. ‘Partridge,’ says he, ‘I fancy you will be able to engage this whole Army yourself; for by the Colours I guess what the Drum was which we heard before, and which beats up for Recruits to a Puppet-show.’
‘A Puppet-show!’ answered Partridge, with most eager Transport. ‘And is it really no more than that? I love a Puppet-show of all the Pastimes upon Earth. Do, good Sir, let us tarry and see it. Besides I am quite famish’d to Death; for it is now almost dark, and I have not eat a Morsel since Three o’Clock in the Morning.’
They now arrived at an Inn, or indeed an Alehouse, where Jones was prevailed upon to stop, the rather as he had no longer any Assurance of being in the Road he desired. They walked both directly into the Kitchin, where Jones began to enquire if no Ladies had passed that Way in the Morning, and Partridge as eagerly examined into the State of their Provisions; and indeed his Enquiry met with the better Success; for Jones could not hear News of Sophia; but Partridge, to his great Satisfaction, found good Reason to expect very shortly the agreeable Sight of an excellent smoaking Dish of Eggs and Bacon.
In strong and healthy Constitutions Love hath a very different Effect from what it causes in the puny Part of the Species. In the latter it generally destroys all that Appetite which tends towards the Conservation of the Individual; but in the former, tho’ it often induces Forgetfulness, and a Neglect of Food, as well as of every thing else; yet place a good Piece of well-powdered Buttock before a hungry Lover, and he seldom fails very handsomely to play his Part. Thus it happened in the present Case; for tho’ Jones perhaps wanted a Prompter, and might have travelled much farther, had he been alone, with an empty Stomach; yet no sooner did he sit down to the Bacon and Eggs, than he fell to as heartily and voraciously as Partridge himself.
Before our Travellers had finished their Dinner, Night came on, and as the Moon was now past the Full, it was extremely dark. Partridge therefore prevailed on Jones to stay and see the Puppet-show, which was just going to begin, and to which they were very eagerly invited by the Master of the said Show, who declared that his Figures were the finest which the World had ever produced, and that they had given great Satisfaction to all the Quality in every Town in England.
The Puppet-show was performed with great Regularity and Decency. It was called the fine and serious Part of the Provoked Husband,2 and it was indeed a very grave and solemn Entertainment, without any low Wit or Humour, or Jests; or, to do it no more than Justice, without any thing which could provoke a Laugh. The Audience were all highly pleased. A grave Matron told the Master she would bring her two Daughters the next Night, as he did not shew any Stuff; and an Attorney’s Clerk, and an Exciseman, both declared, that the Characters of Lord and Lady Townley were well preserved, and highly in Nature. Partridge likewise concurred with this Opinion.
The Master was so highly elated with these Encomiums, that he could not refrain from adding some more of his own. He said, ‘The present Age was not improved in any Thing so much as in their Puppet-shows; which, by throwing out Punch and his Wife Joan, and such idle Trumpery, were at last brought to be a rational Entertainment.3 I remember,’ said he, ‘when I first took to the Business, there was a great deal of low Stuff that did very well to make Folks laugh; but was never calculated to improve the Morals of young People, which certainly ought to be principally aimed at in every Puppet-show: For why may not good and instructive Lessons be conveyed this Way, as well as any other? My Figures are as big as the Life, and they represent the Life in every Particular; and I question not but People rise from my little Drama as much improved as they do from the great.’ ‘I would by no means degrade the Ingenuity of your Profession,’ answered Jones; ‘but I should have been glad to have seen my old Acquaintance Master Punch, for all that; and so far from improving, I think, by leaving out him and his merry Wife Joan, you have spoiled your Puppet-show.’
The Dancer of Wires conceived an immediate and high Contempt for Jones, from these Words. And with much Disdain in his Countenance, he replied, ‘Very probably, Sir, that may be your Opinion; but I have the Satisfaction to know the best Judges differ from you, and it is impossible to please every Taste. I confess, indeed, some of the Quality at Bath, two or three Years ago, wanted mightily to bring Punch again upon the Stage. I believe I lost some Money for not agreeing to it; but let others do as they will; a little Matter shall never bribe me to degrade my own Profession, nor will I ever willingly consent to the spoiling the Decency and Regularity of my Stage, by introducting any such low Stuff upon it.’
‘Right, Friend,’ cries the Clerk, ‘you are very right. Always avoid what is low. There are several of my Acquaintance in London, who are resolved to drive every thing which is low from the Stage.’ ‘Nothing can be more proper,’ cries the Exciseman, pulling his Pipe from his Mouth. ‘I remember,’ added he, ‘(for I then lived with my Lord) I was in the Footman’s Gallery, the Night when this Play of the Provoked Husband was acted first. There was a great deal of low Stuff in it about a Country Gentleman come up to Town to stand for Parliament-man; and there they brought
a Parcel of his Servants upon the Stage, his Coachman I remember particularly; but the Gentlemen in our Gallery could not bear any thing so low, and they damned it. I observe, Friend, you have left all that Matter out, and you are to be commended for it.’
‘Nay, Gentlemen,’ cries Jones, ‘I can never maintain my Opinion against so many; indeed if the Generality of his Audience dislike him, the learned Gentleman who conducts the Show, may have done very right in dismissing Punch from his Service.’
The Master of the Show then began a second Harangue, and said much of the great Force of Example, and how much the inferior Part of Mankind would be deterred from Vice, by observing how odious it was in their Superiors; when he was unluckily interrupted by an Incident, which, though perhaps we might have omitted it at another Time, we cannot help relating at present, but not in this Chapter.
CHAPTER VI.
From which it may be inferred, that the best Things
are liable to be misunderstood and misinterpreted.
The History of Tom Jones (Penguin Classics) Page 72
